[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NjY3NjcuVTJ4dllXNWxJRVpoY21sei4w/bachelorette.regular.webp[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/r7scdkh.png[/img][/center]
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[code]Harrisburg Towers[/code][/right][hr]

Steam rolled against the high ceilings of a spacious, marble bathroom as the shower hissed, the wall-length mirror above the his and hers vanity obscured by fog, an old tarot card resting on the center of a neatly folded black towel. The silhouette of a slender woman could be seen through the frosted glass door of the shower, forearm and head pressed against the wall, wet hair hanging over her face like a funeral shroud. News of Alizée’s death had arrived in the form of a group text left on read. It was difficult for Sloane not to think how if she had gone with the others instead of seeking an escape from the group that things would’ve gone differently. She stared at the water spiraling and disappearing into a dark void down the drain, wrestling with the belief that she had once again failed in her responsibility.

Steam rolled off of a dark gray mug of tea as Sloane sat alone at the head of her dining room table, a newscaster rambling about gang violence at a local strip club from a television in the other room. Antiques decorated the walls of her loft, including a number of ancient weapons, each one marked by one of her hexes should anyone unwanted decide to pay a house visit. Sloane stared out the floor-to-ceiling window and watched from the vantage point of the Harrisburg Towers, the high-rise luxury apartment complex that had been opened during the reconstruction of St. Portwell, as St. Portwell woke, little ants and toy cars clogging the streets while fishing boats returned to the harbor. 

A part of her felt envious of the normal everyday people, their daily lives so routine they never had to question what they should be doing or where they should go. Her inheritance and her successful business had shouldered her with the burden of freetime, and while she burnt most of it serving as the city’s watcher there was still the lingering question of [i]so what next?[/i] Sloane had taken to looking for the answer to her question in the cards, finding some comfort in giving up a bit of control to the largest scapegoat in the world, which was also known as fate. Taking a sip of Earl Grey, Sloane asked the tarot deck a broad question first: [i]what’s in store for me today?[/i] 

She pulled the first card up and flipped it away from her, revealing it to the rest of the empty room first and savoring the moment of anticipation as it completed its revolution and looked up at her from the table. Sloane’s eyes narrowed as she set down her mug, a small huff of annoyed acceptance escaping from her lips. The card showed two figures jumping from a large tower as a bolt of lightning crashed into it and started a fire. Chaos. Destruction. Naturally, it only meant one thing. Sloane flipped her silenced phone over and unlocked it. The text from Auri sitting was there at the top of her notifications. She shook her head and turned her phone back over, reaching for another card.

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[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NjY3NjcuVTJ4dllXNWxJRVpoY21sei4w/bachelorette.regular.webp[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/r7scdkh.png[/img][/center]
 [right][b]Interactions:[/b]  Anya & Linqian[@Fernstone], Layla & Void [@Estylwen], Auri [@Punished GN]
[code]Tranquil Haven Park[/code][/right][hr]

Steam rolled in Sloane’s head as she walked through the park, her long black coat and dark pants a stark contrast against the greens, oranges, and reds of the trees. Her hair was slicked back to prevent any rogue strands from attempting to hide the damage Drake had done to her face, a clean white bandage covering her broken nose and highlighting the unconcealed bruising of a black right eye. She refused to downplay his brutality. If he was going to be a coward enough to suckerpunch her, he’d have to deal with the discomfort of seeing his handiwork. Sloane gave Auri a curt hello and posted up on the rail of the gazebo so that she could observe the entrances of the park. She wanted to watch Drake squirm when he arrived.

But as the gazebo started to fill and Drake was still a no show, Sloane would have to settle for taking pleasure in a different kind of victory. So why was there a nagging feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach?

[color=9966CC]"You look awful,"[/color] said Anya. [color=9966CC]"When you said Drake hit you I didn't expect it to be this bad. I suppose I should have... Ah, but don't worry, his dreams weren't particularly pleasant last night.”[/color]

Sloane’s stare softened as Anya joined her. She was happy to hear that Drake had bad dreams for more than one reason. 

 [color=9966CC] “It's a shame I couldn't be there yesterday. Between us we could have sorted out this rabble much more efficiently than Auri,"[/color] said Anya.

[color=silver]“She does set a rather low bar. I’ve known airheaded socialites that commanded more respect than her,”[/color] said Sloane under her breath, arms crossed. She noticed Jack enter the gazebo and gave him a nod. She spoke louder to Anya as Jack sat on the rail beside her in an attempt to seem like she wasn’t conspiring. [color=silver]“I’m sure you had a valid reason for skipping yesterday. All that matters is that you’re here now.”[/color]

"Hello, everybody! You are all looking wonderful today!"

Sloane met Auri’s eyes and didn’t break her glare even after Auri looked away. Sloane impatiently tapped her foot as Auri stupid, saccharinely sweet voice kept talking. If Auri wanted to chastise them about ruining her already tacky flower shop and then change the meeting place to their old lair—god, saying the word lair nonironically as a twenty-something felt vastly uncool—she could’ve just had them meet there. There was nothing worse in the world than a meeting that could’ve just been an email. 

"... Yesterday, Eksa Thresh, Simone Le Lay, and Finn Reid were found murdered. All of them stabbed to death..."

Okay, so maybe there were worse things in the world. Sloane lowered her head, her impatient foot coming to a rest. Anya, as sharp and brilliant as ever, took the moment to strike, using the tragedy to discreetly undermine Auri’s standing while Sloane was still processing. Luca asked the obvious question—of course it was Father Wolf—as Jack began questioning his methodology.  Linqian cleared up his queries with her first hand knowledge.

[color=CD5C5C]”The only definite was that he was alone,”[/color] she said.

[color=silver]“A shame you weren’t there…”[/color] said Sloane, tossing an unsympathetic look towards Linqian as if she were a beggar taking up too much space on the sidewalk. The others would likely hear Sloane’s words as she had spoken them: as a low effort condolence, a [i]My Sympathies[/i] card with nothing written on the inside of it but a signature. However, Linqian would be able to feel the hidden blade pulled from the sheath of the unspoken words: [i]...instead of him.[/i] In revenge for yesterday’s spit and split that Linqian had pulled on Sloane, Sloane turned towards Layla, telling Linqian that she had no interest in hearing whatever bullshit retort she would likely start throwing Sloane’s way.

[color=silver]“The buddy system? Is that your idea or one from your new friend?”[/color] said Sloane, gesturing to Void. Somebody had to address the elephant in the gazebo, it might as well be her. It wasn’t like her nose could become more broken. She glared at the Apparition, her voice sounding as drained of energy as one of his victims. [color=silver]“Alizée hasn’t even been dead for twenty four hours and you’re already onto the next girl. Layla, you’re young and dumb so I can forgive you for being tricked by this parasite, but he’s not your buddy.”[/color]

[color=silver]“And considering how we’re all living on borrowed time we need to stop wasting it,”[/color] said Sloane, snapping her fingers twice at Auri. [color=silver]“Come on, [i]leader[/i], keep this meeting on track. I take it we’re done chasing around strippers and bikers, yes? What are your leads?”[/color]