FernStone

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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Interactions: Britney @Punished GN, Ken @AtomicEmperor
Kari Wilson’s Basement

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The recollection was… interesting. Anya took a moment to think about it, ignoring the commotion that was the rest of the coven. She did catch Linqian going into Sloane out of the corner of her eye, and Sloane’s subsequent defending of her. Which Anya appreciated, only so she didn’t have to deal with Linqian.

8th Street's mention in the recollection could be disregarded. Anya already knew that they had been trying to recruit Kari thanks to Sloane. But who had Kari joined to protect her from them? Was there a connection to Father Wolf? It seemed likely. Kari had the means to aid someone in killing them.

As they headed towards the basement, Anya briefly turned her attention to Clancy. A child that survived being shot. How intriguing. After they first met, Anya had tried to enter his dreams, with no success. Night after night she tried, but there were no dreams to get into. Almost everyone dreamed, even drunkards like Evelynn on the rare occasion. But not him.

It was curious, and clearly pointed towards him not being human.

The basement was cluttered but Ken had a clear goal for where he was taking them. Anya watched with a raised eyebrow and some amount of awe. It had been a while since they talked, and longer still since Anya had truly seen him use his magic. While the two of them weren’t particularly close, what he showed only confirmed to Anya that he was someone she should become friendlier too.

Because he would be useful. One of the few useful members of the coven, in fact, outside of the large burst of emotion he showed.

Anya inclined her head at Sloane as she rolled her eyes and left - an action that would offend most, but Anya could read the meaning behind it.

”She’ll come around,” Anya said softly to Britney, gaze moving over to the stairs Sloane had disappeared up to make it clear who she was talking to. Of course, she didn’t really believe it. Sloane was unlikely to ever forgive Britney for what she’d done. It was a shame.

She then turned towards Ken, crouching down to get on an eye level with him. She didn’t make a move to physically comfort him - she couldn’t do that, and didn’t want to. Others already had. Britney had gone on about staying positive and hopeful. Anya, on the other hand, was going to take a more logical approach.

”You said that the seals weren’t broken, right, Ken?” Anya started, with a gentle smile. ”Isn’t it more likely that Kari herself took the notes out? Maybe she was adding to them, or reorganising. We can’t immediately jump to the conclusion that they were taken. It would require very strong, subtle magic to get in without you being able to tell. As far as I’m aware, 8th Street doesn’t have anyone with that kind of magic. It doesn’t discount others but… I agree with Britney. Let’s look around the rest of the house.”

She straightened back up and gestured towards the stairs, indicating for him to lead them back up. ”Where’s the most likely place that Kari would leave the notebooks, if not in there? We can start our search there.”

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Interactions: Aryin @NoriWasHere, Clancy @Zombiedude101
Kari's House

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"She won't say anything, again- about your brother."

Clancy

”Heh, I won’t let her say that shit again,” Linqian snorted, lips pulling into a thin smile. She was inclined to treat Clancy like the kid he appeared as, joking and thanking him like she did when Henri talked about protecting her as a young boy, but there was an otherness and maturity that stopped her. He looked young, but he didn’t act it. Whether it was due to circumstances or something else, she wasn’t sure. ”But if she says anything while I’m not around, make her regret it.”

She then turned to Aryin, who’d probably overheard it - not that she was bothered by that - and slapped a hand on her friends shoulder.

”Well I haven’t been shot or teargassed yet, so this ones going pretty well,” Linqian replied drily. Every meeting had been a shit show, at least this was a shitshow where they were probably making progress. They had a goal. That was a lot better than just turning up to a stripclub on a hunch, or not even making it out of their new ‘lair’.

They made their way down to the basement and Linqian kept an eye on Clancy - because even if he was a paranormal kid, he was still a kid. Someone had to be the responsible adult here! And it sure wasn’t going to be half the people here.

Layla was high off her tits. Fucking hell. She was not babysitting her again. There was no motivation for that. No expectant little brother or high paying, drug inducing boss.

Her attention turned to Ken’s feat of magical genius. She recognised some of the Kanji, thanks to the similarities to traditional Chinese. Some kind of repeating phrase… she only recognised the words “must” and “pay” from all of them. Honestly, the speed they were going at and the full visual effect hurt her head. She looked away, grimacing. This was Jinhai’s area of expertise. She always left the things that required brains up to him. He’d tried to explain different dimensions and shit like this to her, and she’d zoned the fuck out everytime.

It wasn’t like she could do it, so why bother learning about it? She had way more important shit to deal with. Like work-

And definitely not Ken having a full on breakdown over some notebooks being missing. Holy shit. She understood that it was hard to lose someone. She really fucking did. But this wasn’t the time or place. She looked away, fists clenching at her side. There was a toxic jealousy roiling in her chest at the ease with which Ken could show his grief. How openly he could just cry and wail about it. She would love to be able to do that. Had she even properly cried over Jinhai’s death yet?

No. She didn’t have the time. She discovered his body, and had to deal with all that came with it. Then she had to be there for Henri, she had to move, she had to work to keep them afloat- she didn’t have time to cry or grieve. So she’d put up a cover of emotional numbness to stop herself from processing it at all.

Linqian was jerked out of her thoughts by another fist to her shoulder, tilting her head towards Aryin with a questioning eyebrow raise. She followed her over the wall.

”Fuck if I know,” Linqian frowned. She hadn’t known Kari well at all, but she’d seemed nice. She was part of that weirdo magical girl group filled with nerds proclaiming to fight darkness or some shit. They didn’t seem the murderous type (apart from maybe the edgy one).

But maybe that was all fake. There was no way Linqian would see through that. But Jinhai hadn’t suspected her either. Then again, Jinhai didn’t know about the murders… this was making her head hurt. She wasn’t cut out for figuring shit out. That had never been her role. She was the get pissed at people and punch them person.

”Yeah, I got a bad feeling about this too. Shit’s too weird. Like, the dead Kari being another Kari? Can’t wrap my head around it but that’s a massive red flag… Fuck, what you’re saying makes sense. I can’t think of why, or what the fuck that vision was trying to warn us about, but yeah. Something isn’t right.” She shook her head. ”Let’s stay down here and look, maybe we’ll find something. Wait-”

She turned back towards the main group, speaking louder so they could hear her. ”We’re going to look down here. There’s plenty of places a book could’ve been left, maybe Kari was just using them or some shit. Maybe someone else can help?”

Linqian gestured towards Clancy and Britney - the two she’d be alright with sticking around. Britney she trusted, and Clancy didn’t have any proper connection with living coven members (or Kari). After saying that, she pulled a hair tie out of her coat and pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail.

”Let’s get searching,” she said to Aryin with a wry grin. She started rummaging through one of the shelves, looking for anything that looked like… notebooks. Fuck. There were loads of notes around here. ”Not that I know what we’re fucking looking for! I don’t understand half this shit.”

Understatement, she didn’t understand any of this shit.

She then lowered her voice back to a whisper so only Aryin could hear her, pretending to look so nobody got suspicious.

”You’re definitely right that coming here is probably fucking dangerous,” Linqian whispered, gesturing towards her back where the pistol she’d brought was hidden. ”I came prepared. I’m fucking getting shot again. It’s magic too, or some shit. Dunno, Greyson said something about orange lux infused. Sometimes this shit is more effective than getting up close and personal.”

She shrugged, picking up a book and skimming through it. Stuff she didn’t understand, probably not the notebooks they were looking for.

”I’m not taking any fucking risks.”

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Interactions: Clancy, Jacqueline Reed (text) @Punished GN
Kari’s House, Patio

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It was difficult for Luca not to feel guilty when Lila talked about how glad she was that Luca wasn’t with 8th Street anymore. Of course he wasn’t with them anymore, he refused to hurt anyone. But he’d joined a group that Emily was in charge of in the first place. And if the direction and leadership changed… He’d probably rejoin. Though he wouldn’t be abandoning these three friends, even if he did.

He turned his head to Clancy when he asked about the book.

”The book’s still with an 8th Street member, one of Emily’s sisters,” Luca replied to Clancy. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. He didn’t want to put Jacqueline in any sort of danger. ”She’s really reasonable, so I’m sure she’d talk to us if we asked- and help. I think I still have her number.”

Luca still had the numbers of a lot of 8th Street members - saved on his computer for if he ever needed them. There were a few he added to each new phone: Carol’s, Greta’s and the twins’. Just in case. He never actually contacted them.

But he’d message her about it when he got a moment.

”I’ll stay up here!” Luca waved to Ken’s retreating back. Almost everyone had gone into the basement… apart from Drake and Stormy who’d gone into the woods. After Tayla’s stalker? Luca decided not to think about that much - it wasn’t his place.

He didn’t want to disturb Jasper while drawing and honestly, a moment of peace was nice. Luca was still recovering from the festival, and with that came a lot of pain and exhaustion. He grimaced as he moved over to a large rock, sitting down. His knees creaked slightly as he bent them, but the relief at being sat was near immediate.

Now seemed like a good opportunity to text Jacqueline. He pulled out his phone, concentrating to make sure he didn’t destroy it. Typing was an arduous task - his fingers ached and were incredibly stiff, and his phone was a cheap, shit type that only had the numeral keypad. After quite a bit of time spent typing,

To Jacqueline: Hi, its Luca, can we meet to talk sometime?

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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Interactions: Sloane @Atrophy, Britney @Punished GN, Ken @AtomicEmperor, Aryin @NoriWasHere
Kari's House

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Linqian's dark eyes moved from Sloane's tight grip on her wrist, to Britney's hand on her shoulder. Did they really think she was going to jump right to violence over this? Fucking hell, she had a short fuse, but she wasn't that bad.

Maybe she was. The way that Sloane was talking, that patronising tone, grated against her. She was fucking treating them like children, as if she’d gotten anywhere. If she was so great she could just go and do it her fucking self. But she was here, with all of them, because she couldn’t. That thought was enough to get herself to calm down again, and ignore it.

She loosened her grip on Sloane's collar, taking a step back.

”Fine. Whatever, nothing happened, it was just Vashti being Vashti. Let's search the basement,” Linqian rolled her eyes. Her voice lowered so only Sloane and Britney could hear her. ”Because I do realise how fucking serious this is. I want to find the bastard that killed Jinhai but I also don’t want my younger brother to lose the only family he has left. I’m not as fucking stupid as you think I am. I’ll work my fucking ass off to figure this shit out.”

She could put aside her dislike for Sloane to get this done, just like she could to accept her money for Jinhai’s funeral. It didn’t mean she liked her or would tolerate any bullshit from her, but she could be in the same space. Fucking work together, even, if it meant finding Father Wolf. She wasn’t stupid enough to fuck that over… when in the right state of mind.

Even if she really didn’t think she was being all that unreasonable for questioning Sloane… whatever. She didn’t care enough to press when they clearly didn’t think Vashti’s words were credible. You saw how crazy she is. Crazy hot more like. Huh. Was she really that desperate right now?

She tilted her head to look back over her shoulder at Britney, still speaking quietly. ”I was just asking. I only hurt people when they say shit like Lynn did… but if you’re concerned it’ll happen, come with us to the basement.”

Linqian then shrugged, turning her whole body more towards the group, and raised her voice.

”Oy, Ken!” Linqian waved to him with a half grin which didn’t reach her eyes. ”Take us to the basement so we can get shit started… Don’t want to keep hanging around till we get fucking arrested- I, for one, can’t afford that. You can get us in without needing to break anything, right?”

She then caught Aryin’s eyes, and gestured for her to come with them. She couldn’t be bothered with words or explanations, Aryin would get it… or she’d come over and punch her. Whichever was fine.

With a forced smile, Linqian turned back to Sloane. ”Let’s go.”

Iron and Honey: A Love Story [FernStone & AtomicEmperor]

Temple Holy Ground

Trisha stifled laughter at Casey’s comment with her free hand, squeezing his back. She could feel it shaking, so she didn’t comment when he squeezed hers hard enough that it was uncomfortable. She tilted her head up towards him with a reassuring smile.
“Do you have to walk up this hill every time you visit? And I thought all the stairs at dad’s manor were a pain… Alright, let’s do it.”

She squinted up at the two women at the top of it, taking a deep breath. While there was something intimidating in those eyes, she wasn’t going to let it get to her. The bees in her coat softly buzzed, catching onto the tension she felt, until she subtly let out soothing pheromones to calm them down. With them now quiet, and holding Casey’s hand, it was easy to walk up the hill with faux confidence. It wasn’t that she was especially nervous, it was just the normal nerves from meeting her boyfriend of a day’s cult leading mother.

“Hello,” Trisha said as they reached the top, still holding onto Casey’s hand. She wasn’t planning to let it go anytime soon, but she smiled pleasantly at Lynette. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Richoux. I’m Trisha Vanburen, Casey’s girlfriend.”

She jumped right into it, figuring that it was best to get an introduction out of the way. She wasn’t actually fond of emphasising her family name, generally preferring to be looked at for herself rather than her family, but here she needed it for some kind of equal footing. It was best to get it out of the way. She glanced at the younger woman next to Lynette, then back at Lynette herself. They were both wearing robes.
“Oh, is there some kind of uniform? I would’ve pulled out my old robes from the Sycamore days if I’d known they were required.”

Lynette’s cool face split open with a smile instantly. She was a tall woman, close to six feet herself, and she leaned in a little bit to look at Trisha. A laugh escaped from her lungs.
”Oh, would you? Y’know, Leon’s is inside!”
Her eyes turned up to her son, a hand lashing out and stroking his angular chin.
”Casey, you little bastard… What does go on in that mind of yours?”

She squeezed his cheek, and he made the look a cat does when it gets displeased. His eyes squeezed shut and he pulled his head back. He made a gagging noise as he did so.
”Back, beast woman.” he croaked, letting go of Trisha’s hand and bending to hug her properly. She did so back, then opened her arms to Trisha.
”We hug, sweetheart. Come here.”

The other girl was silent, coldly staring out into the distance as she waited for something. Anything.

Trisha didn’t want to hug Lynette. To her, familial hugs were strange. Really, any outside of a partner. It had taken a long war between her and one especially huggy friend before she got comfortable with it with any friends. Up until that point they’d all teased her about how incredibly tactile she was with partners, while being physically cold with everyone else. Unfortunately she didn’t really have a choice here. Just about managing to school her expression, Trisha stepped into Lynette’s arms and very loosely hugged her.

She escaped as soon as she could, right back to Casey’s side. She then looked at the other woman again, tilting her head. Was she just there for attempted intimidation? Silent, sullen, attempted intimidation?
“And who are you?” she asked, very bluntly.

Casey and Lynette both gave the same skeptical and cynical chortle. It was a typical moment between them, their wretched and half baked sense of humor a shared trait. The woman didn’t respond at first, and Lynette’s head slowly spun like a stone statue rotating on a plinth.
”Don’t be cunty about it, there’s other options.”
The girl gave a huff of air, sticking out her hand to shake.
”Alena Zöller. Crone Maven of the Temple of-”
”Yes yes, she fucking knows already Lena, now go and get the teeeeeea!”

Lena gagged, not even sticking around for the handshake. Lynette waved it off, grinning at Trisha somewhat wickedly.
”We’ll spare you the foreplay, Trisha. Our favorite little rat will probably spill all of our beans to you in due time, so I see no reason to not give you the chance to be comfortable. How’s that for an introduction?” she asked Trisha very directly.

From when Lynette told the girl, Lena, that there were other options, Trisha knew who she was. The temple minion that was obsessed with Casey. She grew slightly more guarded at that, stepping closer to him so that she was practically slotted in against his side. She didn’t move away even when Lena was sent off.

“It was fine,” Trisha shrugged, though she didn’t entirely get what Lynette meant. Sending Lena away? Stopping her from going on and on about things Trisha didn’t care about? She looked up at Casey, then back over at Lynette.
“To help me feel comfortable, then, and before we… have tea, I guess, I do have something to say. I’m not going to join the Temple just because I’m dating your son. I’m also not going to break up with him if someone tells me to because I didn’t join. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Lynette laughed, but the feeling of Casey being close was made closer when his hand squeezed hers again. He had to make sure she knew he was there with her.
”I think that you’re a very strong girl. I get that about you. Of course you are, you fought the Stygian Snake. It’s why you’re already a member, and you’re free to do as you wish, since you never asked for the membership. Come on, you two. I have some yelling and shouting to do.”

Casey’s nostrils flared.
”Not at me, and certainly not in front of company.”
”But you know I’m upset? You’ve been told?”
He scoffed as she turned her back, and they walked into the pew-lined chapel with the banners of orange and white and gold hanging. There were strange hanging plants that seemed to grow from blast marks in the walls and ceilings.
”Yes Ma, and I know what happened. Leon already filled me in.”
”Did you fucking thank him? That he, once again, has taken the blame for your shortcomings? Do you feel no shame about this pattern in your life?”

Casey grunted like he took mental damage directly. His eyes closed and he slumped his head slightly forward.
”Oh my God Ma, what? What? How the fuck could I have known that something was happening or was going to happen? We didn’t preemptively strike everything in the military, we’re not a bunch of robots.”

Lynette’s hand came up over her shoulder as she walked, waving it off.
”Trisha, Trisha… So, Casey? He is a cutie, he looks the most like his Dad.” she pivoted hard, swapping into a different topic as they hooked a left and headed down the stairs into the long hall of false walls. ”But he’s damaged goods! A nice Vanburen heiress like you can’t find someone else?”

There was a soft buzzing in the air. Trisha couldn’t hold back her agitation, polite smile dropping from her lips as they pressed together. It was just like with her own mom. Blame, harsh words, accusations of being a failure. Always the one in the wrong, no matter which house she was in. It must have been you, Patricia, you’re always causing problems. Don’t try to blame your brother. She gritted her teeth, grip on Casey’s hand tightening.

“Oh, I didn’t know that perfection was required in a partner,” Trisha said, tone flat. One bee had crawled out from her jacket to her neck, the ones in her hair moving to its surface. “Don’t you know how many of us there are? I’m at least tenth in line. I’ll probably get nothing when my brother dies. I’m not looking for someone else. Casey’s nice, and funny, and he treats me well. Don’t make it sound like I’m lowering myself or some other shit.”

A nice Vanburen heiress, sure. She was certainly one of those things. But she wasn’t exactly undamaged herself. It wasn’t something she was willing to lay out in Casey’s defence, but she’d seen and been through enough. She may not have been in a war, but she’d fought the Stygian Snake at only fourteen.
“I don’t care if he’s ‘damaged goods’, whatever that means. I still like him.”

As they made their way down the hall, a wall was already open and they were able to step through the square gap that was the width of two doors. Inside was a dark room with some of the bright white and gold banners strung up across the wall where it meets the ceiling. There was a tea pot and a few cups set up for them, and some of the pastries were already at the table along with a jar of the honey.

Lynette was quiet at first, and she took her seat in one of the warm leather chairs. The little orbiting spheres clanked against the metal of the chair’s bottom, falling silent as they came to resting positions. She opened one of the boxes and immediately went for a chocolate filled croissant… Casey was almost too frustrated to watch her eat his favorite treat on him.

”That was real sweet of you, Babe… Thank you for your words.”
Lynette nodded as she chewed away at the croissant. Lena was already filling little asian style teacups up with amber liquid. Casey purposefully pulled his Channeler out and slipped the glove onto his free hand. There was a pen on the table, and he took it in the gloved hand before he dipped it into the tea that had been given to them. As he did, Lynette smiled.

”You’re sweet, Casey. Checking the tea for poisons… We raised you right, didn’t we?”
He stared daggers back at Lynette, whose smug sarcastic grin ate her face.
”You’re a good one, Trisha. That’s nice. I’m glad you’re not a shallow little rich girl like I assumed. You and my little late bloomer… So, one night? It was cute, I expected to open my eyes in that corner and see him sleeping, but not with you there. Certainly not clothed either. Taking things slow huh?”

Casey grimaced, pulling the Lux infused pen out of the tea and reading the clear signal. He slid the cup to Trisha, confident in its safety before taking his own.
”You’re so rotten sometimes. Leon says you want to make up for things, but you always treat us like this.”
Lynette frowned mockingly.
”I asked Trisha a question, Bubba… Let her answer it, please.”

“I wasn’t in a rush to answer.” Trisha looked at Lynette over the top of her cup, taking a sip. She grimaced, reaching for the jar of honey and putting about three spoonfuls in her tea. Honestly, she didn’t really like tea. At the smell of honey, a couple of bees flew from her hair onto the edge of the cup.
“If not sleeping together on the first night is taking it slow then yes, we are. Especially if someone could be watching us at any time.”

She tried to stay and act calm, even though Lynette’s question did rile her up a bit. For Trisha it was unusual, because her normal order was all messed up. She did normally sleep with someone on the first night, and it was the only thing she felt she had to keep any partners. But here she was… She should be confident about it. Ignore the worries. Ignore the obsessive girl still in the room who also liked her boyfriend. But she couldn’t keep down her irritation, tone turning slightly harsher.
“It shouldn’t matter to anyone but us. I’m not in a rush, there’s more to dating than that- why do you care, anyway? Worried it might last longer than one night?”

”How could I be worried? My little Autumn Flower deserves the best, and that best is sitting in front of us right now!”
Lynettes hand gestured to Trisha, sweeping and taking her teacup to her lips. She didn’t blink; her eyes barely shifted at all, and they were so blue. Like staring up at the sky after the clouds part ways, they were intense and encompassing and devoid of expression. This woman had the ultimate kind of poker face, her entire facial structure a relaxed and unknowable blank canvas that one could apply any kind of projection to.

”I really think you both have the wrong impression here. Of me, and us, and how we function! But, I know my son… Don’t I, Casey?”
”Yep, pretty easy to do when the therapist you send him to has mindreading powers and sees his relationship with you as something far more important than any kind of confidentiality clause that his medical degree made him swear to uphold.”
Casey’s own face was flat. The expression screamed “Stop fucking with me” in a very loud and vocal way, his brow slightly wrinkled and lips pursed together in a wide, flat expression.

Lynette laughed aloud, her smile opening again.
”That’s not what I meant, Casey.”
”Really? How the fuck else can you mean a statement like that, because it sure as shit doesn’t mean you were some kind of doting and attentive mother. You hold the sugar cube out to people and then blast them with the taser you keep hidden in your other hand if they eat it in a way you don’t like.”

The woman scoffed, leaning back hard in her chair and letting her arms dangle like a teenager being admonished for doing something they didn’t think was bad.
”See? That! Its your attitude, Ma! You think your shit doesn’t stink, like you’re fucking right about everything!”
Lynette looked very blase, sighing in a mocking fashion.
”Trisha… Listen. Since Casey’s feelings are so tumultuous, I’m gonna need your help in a really big way. We don’t know one another at all, so I can’t expect you to be on my side about this, but… Can I ask a favor of you?”

She finally fixed her posture in the seat, leaning forward with both her hands clasped together.
”Being the outsider you are… Can you find it in your heart to trust me? To give me, a woman who has done a great deal of things the wrong way and is willing to admit to it, a chance to prove that things can be better?” she asked in an incredibly sincere tone.
It was such a different tone, jam packed with baseline sincerity and lacking in any kind of persona or bravado that would otherwise be present. She wasn’t a new person, but it certainly seemed like either something had possessed her until now, or that now she was being possessed.

There was a bit of a tell, however. Lena, still standing just behind her Mistress, scrunched her face into a confused scowl.

Trisha took another, long drink of tea to cover up a laugh. Trust. Right. Who did Trisha truly, entirely trust? Herself, her bees. To a small extent members of her family and now Casey. But certainly not someone when they just asked for it. When they changed their attitude and tone just like that. She'd experienced it herself - the difference in someone when in public, and behind closed doors. Normally they didn't switch like this.

Her eyes, appearing dark brown with little light to reflect, moved from Lynette to Casey. His expression was easy to read, a direct contrast to how he'd been when it was just the two of them. She ignored the hint of joy she felt at that. Then, she glanced at Lena. Clearly the second tone was the outside one… the attempt to win Trisha over. Perhaps. Not that Trisha trusted any of it. Harsh words were much easier to trust than kind ones, though.
“I don't know why you're asking me," Trisha tilted her head towards Casey, shuffling along slightly so one of her legs tapped against his. “Asking for trust isn't really a favour. But sure, I'll give you a chance… If Casey would like me to. I'm not the one that needs proof 'that things can be better', really."

She turned her head to fully look at Casey, smiling warmly at him, before returning to a more neutral - perhaps somewhat sullen - expression towards Lynette.
“I'm not the kind of girl that wants a relationship with my partner's mom outside of him. So you should fix that first without my help."

Lynette’s expression turned downward into a frown, and she took a deep breath as her eyes slowly rotated to Casey.
”I… Am well aware of my shortcomings. Can you explain?” she gave a real and actual frown to Casey. He knew that expression.

Clearing his throat, Casey spoke up.
”You breach that kind of trust with every interaction, Ma. I never would’ve joined the Reserve if that whole shit hadn’t happened when I got home, and you know that.”
”And I apologized up and down…”
”But the point is that you couldn’t be sorry. Because every time I come home you do it again. You try to be subtle, you try and hold back, but you make these little comments and expressions on your face. You do it because you’re manipulative, and you know that I’ll read into them. Nowadays, you just have the balls to not be subtle about it, as if I’m supposed to trust you like that.”

Lynette’s hand came up to her face and formed a lip over her eyes like she was trying to block out the sun. Deflection of scrutiny.
”And y’know it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t treat me like I was stupid. Like I’m some sort of freak for not wanting Doctor Rhodes to give me a brain massage so that I can forget the last decade of my life…”

The lid lifted from Lynette’s face. Little tears were forming.
”I don’t think it’s wrong to want you comfortable.”
”Its wrong because you’re his boss. Not Doctor Adlebranch, not the Board of Health for the State… You. You say jump he jumps. You say manipulate my son’s brain so he’s more compliant? He asks how much.”

That’s when he turned to Trisha, a frown on his face as well.
”She asked you because she knows there’s no chance in Hell I’ll ever trust her without someone special vouching for her. Because there’s too much history, too many precedents, too much baggage for me to fully buy anything she has to say. She knows I won’t give her the time of day.”

The tears in Lynette’s eyes were falling in a stream now, her frame hanging in the chair with her legs pulled tight to her chest beneath the billowing robes.
”How can I expect my Baby to believe me when I’ve hurt him? Let him be hurt? And the fucking Military turned him from a sweet little boy into a robot. He wouldn’t even hug me after he came home from his first tour.”

Casey leaned back in his chair.
”Can you not embarrass us in front of Trisha? Believe it or not, we did come here with something like an olive branch.”
Lynette’s teary face looked at Trisha, then back to Casey.
”W-what do you mean?”

“It's more of a honey branch," Trisha side-eyed Casey, completely unbothered by Lynette's crying. She had a sister that could do that - the hysterical crocodile tears when things didn't go her way. At a push, Trisha could cry on command too. She definitely didn't use it like this, though. Everything his mother said was a deflection - the military had turned him into a robot? Trisha hadn't known him before that, but he was the complete opposite with her now. You tended to not want to hug people that hurt you…

“Here," Trisha stretched out, hand curling around the jar of honey on the table and pushing it towards Lynette. With it being a simple, completely unlabelled jar it was obvious it hadn't come from any kind of shop.
“It's a peace offering. I made it myself- well, my bees made it, I extracted it. Magical bee honey that you won't find anywhere else."

She glanced at Casey, corner of her lips twitching up into a smile as if to say, 'see, I'm up selling it with magic like you suggested.' One of her bees meandered out of her sleeve, coming to rest on one of her outstretched fingers, seeming to be watching Lynette.
“We even brought a whole box of it. So, we really didn't come here for a fight." Though, they'd certainly been expecting it to turn into something like this, it was an easy lie to tell. “Try some, it's not poisoned."

While her tears didn’t end, she did unfurl herself from her weak fetal position in order to rejoin the conversation.
”This… Is where I have problems. What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to pretend like Kane and Abel didn’t tell me about the bees? Or about how I know you can’t control them, but you want to ask for help feeding them? Am I supposed to just let the two of you go on about a plan that I already like and want to help with?”

Casey nodded his head.
”Yeah, Ma. You don’t tell other members of the congregation that you’re spying on them.”
”But isn’t that dishonest to you? And to her?”
”There’s a really easy solution, Mama…”

Casey’s hand reached out across the table. Lynette’s hand instinctively took it without thinking. Their eyes locked.
”Stop. Fucking. Spying. On. Me.”
The woman looked dejected. Entirely deflated, like she lost everything.
”How can I… Make sure you’re okay?”
Casey grinned, turning his head to Trisha, then back to Lynette.
”You asked Trisha to trust you earlier, right? Well, why can’t you trust me to stay safe?”
”You signed up to fight in a World War. You told me you felt safer in a crater than you did at home.”

Casey nodded. His thumb instinctively rubbed Lynette’s hand, the son in him still wanting to comfort his mother despite all the trepidation in his body tell him not to comfort her because she didn’t deserve it.
But she was his Mom, and he loved her in the terrible way one loves their blood. The way where he was desperate to give her the trust she craved. But how could he ever think it wasn’t a trick?
”I did. And I told you I’d kill myself before I ever called you my Mother again, but here we are, right? I still call you Mama, just like I did as a kid. I still come around, even though I shake and quake with anxiety whenever I do because I know that inevitably we’ll be here again. Here in this situation, where I’m reassuring you again that I don’t hate you. So, maybe you can do me a favor and give us some trust. Some trust, and some space? You and Dad raised us in this faith: I haven’t ever strayed from that, and I know you understand why that’s been difficult for me to deal with.”

There was an incredibly strange aspect to this whole relationship that, until now, hadn’t reared its head. Religion. It was easy to forget, with all the hedonism and lack of any clear religious structure, that there was some sort of faith to be had here.
Never mind what the faith was centered around…

Lynette forcefully wiped the tears from her eyes and jumped to her feet, rounding the table and pulling Casey into an embrace. It must’ve been sincere somehow, since she didn’t take the free time to glare or anything. She held him tightly, rubbing his shoulder.
”Of course my children would be my most loyal… And most worthy of my trust. Why else would you come to me?”
One of Casey’s hands reached back, looking for Trisha and finding purchase on her leg. He patted her gently, letting his hand rest there as he dealt with the situation at hand.

”Y-you… You bless me with your understanding, Voice of Grace. Now, maybe we can talk about real things?”

She pulled away, clearing her throat. Her gaze immediately went up to Trisha with a certain amount of concern.
”Of… Of course, absolutely.”
”And we’ll take it from the top? Like you don’t know what’s going on?”
Lynette nodded her head and took a deep breath before making her way back to her seat. However, she went around the opposite way, stepping behind Trisha’s seat and hugging her for a moment from behind.
”First impressions are hard, aren’t they?” she asked with an absentminded tone, sitting back down and taking the jar of honey.

She rolled it in her hands, a weak smile coming over her face. As she unscrewed it and took a scoop out with her finger, she let her eyes trail up to Trisha.
”We do love our magic products around here… And this solves a bit of- Fuck… I’m sorry. I- We-...”
Lynette paused for a moment, trying to consider what to say that didn’t have to do with what she already knew. Or, at least how to word it without wording it. The phrase “fuck it” flashed across her mind, and she simply tucked the knob of honey into her mouth.

Trisha silently watched and listened, putting a hand over Casey's when it came to rest on her leg. Her shadowed eyes didn't give away much, but there was a tight frown on her lips that she couldn't get rid of. The religious stuff… she didn't understand it at all. While her mom was technically Catholic, she hadn't spent enough time with her to be raised that way. It made her uncomfortable. The spying made her uncomfortable. But it was all something she'd known going into this, she could get past it, just…

She was jealous. Fuck, she hated that she was. But the ugly feeling began when Lynette asked about making sure Casey was okay with her spying, and continued when she hugged him. Trisha didn't trust her- certainly not any of the niceties thrown her way- but it was clear that Lynette cared for Casey. Trisha was smart enough to recognise it. She'd seen it in some of her siblings mothers, a controlling sort of love. Her cousins' too. Hers hadn't had any of the care in it. Just constant check ups to make sure she was studying, that she was getting the best grades, and trying to prevent her from being the big fuck up she'd ended up being. When had her mom last checked up on her? One… no, maybe two years ago? Trisha could be dead, and she wouldn't care. When had she last hugged her? She couldn't remember. Maybe never. Her mother probably didn't think she deserved it.

Trisha flinched slightly when Lynette hugged her from behind, fingers digging into Casey's, though she tried to play it off with a half smile and hum of agreement to her question. It was obvious something was off with her - at least, she appeared more closed off than she had before.
“I don't think it actually has any magical properties," Trisha intoned, pausing. Ah, fuck, that wasn't what she was supposed to say. Well, she'd said it now. “The bees are magical but they produce honey through normal means… just more of it, since they don't need to breed to replenish lost numbers. Firstly, I want to know if it actually tastes nice. I like it more than normal honey, but I'm biased. And yeah, along with offering the honey I'm hoping for some help with the bees."

She reached up with her free hand to lightly stroke one that had appeared on her cheek, rubbing its fuzzy little body against her. “Which I can control, I just have difficulties with larger numbers. I need to work on that before getting more bees, and more honey, if it's worth it. At least, it'd be nice to talk to some other adjoined."

Lynette mulled the honey about in her mouth, a pleasant emotion washing over her sullen face. She turned it in her hands a bit more, clearing her throat.
”Lena, a light please?”
She waved her hand, and the quiet sullen woman turned to a cabinet against the wall and pulled a small hand flashlight out, handing it to her mistress. Lynette held the light under the jar, and the overhead light switched off as she stared into the glowing golden liquid.

For a long while, she stared at it. Calculating eyes rotated with the jar, narrowing and opening in the dull golden light. It was her face and the jar, like two hovering lights in the midst of oblivion.
”Your own pheromones affect the composition. However you were feeling during this particular batch gave it a hint of astringency that isn’t found in a normal honey.”

She flicked the flashlight off and the overhead came back on. She opened it up again and took another glob, then held it up to Lena who reluctantly took a fingertip full. A warm surprise came over her face, and Lynette looked up at her with an eyebrow wag.
Casey gripped at Trisha’s hands, looking over excitedly at her. The Priestess’ head clicked back like she was a clockwork doll.
”Trisha, I can recognize a fellow spirit of Natural Order. You, and the spirit you steward, find yourselves in empathetic company despite the dysfunction you may find yourself thrust into. We’re not animals, and I’m certainly no wolf. My son asks me to trust him, I ask you to trust me, we all roll around in the middle and make a great big puddle of mud like silly pigs. Again, we’re not animals. What was my point…?”

She slid the jar’s lid back on and sucked it into one of her big robed sleeves.
”I… I love the honey. I think we can make a relationship work for everyone here. In a very long term fashion, which I’m sure would appeal to you greatly.”

There was a long pause. Lynette sucked air through her teeth with a grimace on her face, and then cleared her throat.

”Sorry, sorry… The visions. Sometimes they just wash me. Gods, yes! Yes, a place for the bees, a place you two can call your own so we don’t need to deal with my Leon’s quirks or the particularities of his current living situation… Which reminds me!”
She spun in her chair and pointed at Casey. At once he felt tense, and his hand let go of Trisha’s as he straightened up.
”Casey and I need to talk about what happened last night privately. Trisha, can I ask you to go upstairs with Lena while we sort things out? I believe Andrade is somewhere up there, you can give all of the honey you brought to him. We’ll be up once everything is taken care of.”

“Oh," Trisha looked up at Casey, fingers curling into her palm and forming a fist. She didn't realise that her pheromones would affect the honey while she was making it. How had she been feeling to make it taste slightly astringent? It had been a couple of months ago with this batch… Lonely, probably. She didn’t really understand half of what followed, about animals and Natural Order and visions. But the honey was enjoyed, and there was a possibility of something there, at least. A start. She certainly did like the idea of long-term… though how Lynette knew that, she wasn’t sure. Magic. But it was all rapid and constantly changing topics that had her head half spinning. Was Lynette seeing some kind of future for them, or was she offering them a home? She had no idea… Discomfort bubbled in her chest, which she tried to ignore.

She really didn’t want to be left alone with Lena. She’d actually rather anything but that. But Casey had already let go of her hand, a clear indication that he planned to go with his mother to probably be shouted into submission… She bit her lip. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to make sure Lena didn’t get any ideas? If she was as obsessed with Casey as he said, she wouldn’t just back off.
“Sure, I won’t intrude where I don’t belong," Trisha said, pushing back her seat and standing up. She reached out to gently squeeze Casey’s shoulder, before her hand dropped to her side and was stuffed in her coat pockets. She turned to Lena, not even bothering to force a smile. “Lead the way, I have no idea where I’m going."

She did turn her head over her shoulder to give Casey another smile, and a half wave. “I’ll see you up there. Don’t make me wait too long."
”I don’t plan on it… Miss you already.”

And then the four corners of the false wall closed down on themselves, leaving a black space full of nothing behind. Nothing but Lena’s scowl.
”I think probably the way you came from would be a good idea for starters, but if you need a reminder,-” her long, black polish tipped finger pointed down the hall. ”-i’ss over there. So, walk walk, stronger witches will make sure the monsters stay off your back.”
She waggled her fingers, directing Trisha in the direction like one would gesture to some kind of pet.

“Are you telling me to leave?" Trisha folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at Lena. The slight smile she’d had was completely gone, replaced with a scowl as nasty as Lena’s. She turned her head to look down the hall, then back at Lena. The bees buzzed agitatedly, but she told them to quiet down and stay still. She could handle this just fine without magic. She was already feeling uncomfortable, and the way Lena was immediately treating her just pissed her off.
“I’m not stupid, that," Trisha pointed down the hall, “isn’t upstairs. I’m also not part of your little church, so I’m not just going to nod and do what you say. So take me to wherever your leader- my boyfriend’s mother- told us to go."

”If you’re so qualified, why don’t you buzz about where you like? Plenty of dick around that isn’t His Righteousness’. My jaw gapes at the utter ridiculousness of hearing someone whose nickname is ‘Promiscuous Patty’ thinking that she’s anywhere near good enough for the seed of Our King Beyond. You, you Sycamore, disgust me. Now, if you know the way upstairs I suggest that you head that way, you half-witch…”

She gripped her fist tight, and there was a shimmer that bubbled out from the nothingness behind her. Two eyes opened, big golden spheres staring.
”And no, Patrica, this isn’t me trying to intimidate you.”
One of the eyes split off, hovering over Trisha’s shoulder as it slid across the air.
”This is me showing you the way, since someone like me actually has responsibilities to attend to. I can’t be bothered being some unemployed skank’s seeing eye dog. Now, fuck you and have a nice life.”

She spun on her heel and walked in the opposite direction. The golden eyeball hung there, looking at Trisha before hovering just ahead of her in the direction of the stairs.

“You fucking-" Trisha clenched her fists at her side, looking at Lena’s shoulder with cold rage. She wanted to go after her and give her a piece of her mind- but how could she? She knew nothing about her, whereas Lena had far too much information about her. Every word had been like a knife in her chest. Was it Leon? Fuck, who else would share that nickname… Then it would get back to Casey. Did Casey already know? What this just one big fucking joke? No, it couldn’t be. Fuck. Be the bigger person, so Casey didn’t drop her on day two. She turned towards the stairs, then paused.

Fuck, when was she ever the bigger person.

She stopped the pheromones she was using to suppress the bees, stopping them from acting on her anger. It wasn’t a controlled attack, she didn’t tell them to do anything, just about fifty bees flying out from under jacket and buzzing after Lena, attempting to catch up and sting her.
“Oops, sorry, I can’t control it, because I’m just a half-witch. They just go after bitches without me asking them to- should’ve kept you’re fucking mouth shut."

There was no reaction. The bees got caught up on some kind of wall or something, smacking their fuzzy little bodies against nothing. The barricade seemed to roll as Lena continued on down the hall, the bees getting a little further with each step but never getting any closer to her. The golden eye opened, splitting itself in the middle to form a wide mouth with nine perfectly spaced dome shaped teeth that slid together into an awkward smile.
”Bitchrisha, please refrain from acts of violence on Temple grounds.”

”Oh, can it you black haired Nazi cunt. How about not being rude to guests?”
A familiar voice broke the otherwise silent hall. Footsteps descended from the stairs revealed Mia standing on the landing. The gold eye vanished in a huff of smoke at the same time the bees lost track of what they were following.
”Hey, Girl, heyyy… You met Lena and Mom I take it? Who left you all alone with her like that?” she questioned, taking a standing spot next to Trisha.

“Your mom wanted to shout at Casey alone about last night," Trisha said, still glaring down the hall. Her bees came back to her, feeling incredibly confused. It was difficult to calm them down when she was feeling so agitated. She wanted to just leave. She also wanted to punch a wall. She wanted to be alone, but was also pretty relieved that Mia had turned up. What Lena had said got to her far more than she wanted it to. Fuck, she shouldn’t pay any attention to what she’d said. But she couldn’t stop it when it was all true. She hated the nickname, but she couldn’t deny it. She never cheated, but… she did have a lot of relationships. Casey said it was fine, but was it? He must’ve known Lena would say something, had been fine for them to be alone. Was she just saying what he’d been thinking? No, that was ridiculous… but it could be. No.

“She told me to wait upstairs, but that bitch took issue with showing me there, and just-" Trisha threw her hands up in the air, bees sitting on them scattering at the sudden moving and hiding in her hair. She finally stopped looking down the corridor and looked up at Mia, unable to change her sullen expression to anything else.
“It’s fine. Let’s go upstairs- well, if you were heading down, I can find my own way… So long as there isn’t anyone else like her up there. Wonderful first meeting, between her and your mom."

”Y’know, that muff lover will come around. We all think she’s gay, and that she just wants to be up Mom’s ass, but being with Casey was the only thing that was gonna get her close. Hence the attitude, the whole thing. She talks all the time about how she’s wasting time and shit isn’t going her way. God, I’d… I’d squash her little Nazi head like a brick if I could. Fuck she gets me steaming…”

Mia’s long arm reached around and patted Trisha’s shoulder in a very friendly manner.
”Either way, don’t let her intimidate you. She probably just has a crush. C’mon, let’s go back upstairs. I was just looking for Mom, but if she’s busy with Casey I won’t interrupt.”
She turned, nodding back from where she came.
”Did you guys have a nice night?”

“Oh yeah, it was really nice," Trisha nodded, turning around and starting up the stairs. “Haven’t had a night that relaxing in a long time- I mean, we fell asleep on the couch. I don’t normally do that."

She shrugged, forcing a half smile. Pretending really badly that she was perfectly fine and not affected by Lena’s words. She wasn’t letting her intimidate her. It had just pissed her off. That was all.
“But if that bitch is gay, I’d like to hand my queer card in- I think I’d rather she was just going after my boyfriend. Wait," Trisha paused midstep, twisting her head round to look at Mia. “How would Casey get her closest? Don’t you have an older sister? Or Leon, he’s single, right? Just want to know my enemy a little better."

Mia’s face twisted into an expression of true humor like the mask of comedy.
”Ohhhh, shit! The first time I get to do this!? Fucking… So, Elise is still technically married to this guy; they’re not together anymore but he is in charge of one of our branches like the… South West, or something. Arizona? But they’re having a hard time divorcing since he knows that once the ring is gone he’s basically gonna lose everything.”
She paused before the top of the stairs where people were, getting close to Trisha.
”And Leon is betrothed to his Apparition. Lelou. It’s a… Religious thing.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“What?" Trisha completely stopped, spinning around to stare up at Mia. The news was almost enough to shock her out of her morose state, eyes widening. Leon was betrothed to his Apparition? How did that even work- she didn’t want to know. She’d only found out he was adjoined yesterday, now she finds out the apparition is also his… fiance.

“I didn’t think things could get weirder… Well Leon’s lucky I’m not in Sycamore anymore to spread his secret," Trisha half joked, making it up the last steps and out of the stairwell. She looked around the place.
“Any idea where Andrade is up here? Your mom suggested I give him the rest of the honey I brought- not that I have it on me either."

She grinned and nodded her head.
”Oh it was yours? The uh, bees, right? Leon kind of mentioned it; oh, I’m sorry, I did ask about you… And he said he’s hopeful, because Casey kind of, I guess like defended you this morning or something, I guess Leon said something mean and Casey shut him right down. So, hey, brownie points, right?”
Mia pointed her fingers back and forth, almost giving Trisha finger guns like they had some sort of quiet agreement.

She didn’t leave Trisha any time to answer, however.
”Uncle Dre!? Hey!”
Standing at one of the pews with a jar of honey, the long haired and handsome Andrade Salamente was standing next to a few other members of the Temple. One was spinning a small vortex of air, making snow cones and letting the chef layer them slowly with honey.
”It’s the Honey Mama herself. Casey’s new girlfriend! Trisha, this is Andrade! Uncle Dre, Trisha!”

Andrade gave her a sly and handsome smile, holding his free hand out to Trisha.
”Honey Mama? What?”
He laughed kind of awkwardly, looking between them.

Trisha shot a half hearted glare at Mia, before smiling awkwardly at Andrade. She stepped forward and shook his hand, dropping hers pretty quickly.
“It’s just Trisha. The honey’s from me, so I guess that’s where that comes from- Well my bees made it." She held up her hands and a few bees crawled out from her sleeves, crouching on her fingers and fluttering their little wings. They were a bit calmer now, as was she. Hearing that Casey had shut down Leon was… nice. A tiny drop of positivity in the torrent of negativity Lena had hit her with.

“I guess you already got the honey, so I don’t exactly need to give it to you…" she half mumbled, looking over at the weird snow cone production. “What are you making with it?"

Andrade gave Trisha’s bees a warm and friendly reception in Spanish, dipping his finger into the honey and letting them come toward it as they pleased.
”Trisha… You remind me of someone…” his eyes narrowed for a moment, but he shook his head.
”We are making… Snow cones!”
He finished packing the one he was holding with a final drizzle of honey and handed it to her.
”I spent a little time in Canada, and I saw how they would take the fresh maple syrup and drizzle it over the freshly fallen snow. Perfect practice for an aspiring Red Adept.”

Mia nodded and smiled.
”That is super fucking cool Liam. No pun intended.”
The group around, including Andrade, laughed at the pun.

Trisha laughed awkwardly because she felt she had to, taking the snow cone handed to her. A couple of her bees had betrayed her, going to Andrade’s honey coated finger and happily drinking it up with absolutely no care for the fact he was basically a stranger. More swarmed to the snow cone before she even had a chance to get a taste. She rolled her eyes at them.
“Well, it’s popular with the bees," she waved them away so there was at least a gap she could take a lick from. Huh. It was a pretty nice combination, the sweet honey and the cold snow. “It’s nice. I never thought about doing that with my honey- honestly I just have it on bread and the like."

She shrugged, taking another lick before letting her bees snack. They most went for the honey layers and ignored the snow cone section. It was quite funny to watch as the white frost got all over their little legs, like snow pollen.
“And I’m not sure how I’d remind you of him, but you probably met my dad… or one of my half-siblings. There’s some resemblance." She gestured to her face with her free hand. “Who didn’t meet dad, he practically ran this town…"

With a frown, she mentally shooed the bees off the snowcone so she could actually eat it. They reluctantly moved back onto her, some landing on the top of her head and getting specks of white ice all over her hair. She decided to quickly move past that, and just ask more questions.
“What do you think of the honey? Is it much different from normal?"

Andrade nodded happily, a smile coming over his face.
”Yes, yes! It’s got quite the flavor; have you noticed? Ever compare this to regular honey?”
He dipped another finger in, stuffing it into his mouth and smacking his lips to circulate the air around his taste buds. Taking a deep breath, he opened his nasal passage to let the air vent, all the while he let the honey coat his tongue until it was completely dissolved.
”It has an almost coffee-like rear note that really makes me want to make some sort of… Some kind of cake? With rum and the honey… Are you always in season? They’re able to withstand these temperatures and continue producing the honey?” he asked her with wide eyes.

”I’m always looking for natural sweeteners. And it can be used in our Fine Courses as well, so there’d be a heavy premium for it. Do you have more?”

“I’ve never compared it to normal honey, seemed a waste of money," Trisha said, as if she had any money concerns in her life. Well, it wasn’t like she had loads sitting around, she was quite dependent on what her older brother was willing to give her. But it was nice for the honey to get appreciated, and to hear someone thinking about actual uses with it. While in a way it was just a by-product of owning the bees, she harvested it all by herself. It was a labour of love, for her bees, and she’d grown to enjoy it. At least there was one thing she was good at. Maybe something she could build a future on. Maybe. It was a little hard to believe.
“Technically, they can produce honey anytime of the year. But there aren’t so many flowers around for them to collect pollen from and they tend to eat most of what they produce during winter. It means they’re self-sustaining, but not productive."

She turned over her free hand so her palm was flat. A couple of the bees crawled out onto it. She curled her fingers in and tickled them. They were clearly active, unlike most bees during this time of the year that would be in a hive conserving heat to keep their queen alive. Her still quite sullen expression softened slightly as she looked at them.
“They’re not really affected by the weather or old age. But they collect pollen and make it into honey like normal bees, just a bit more efficiently. I do have more, maybe… six or seven more boxes. Some of it is years old, but it’s still good. Would it really be worth that much?"

”Last year, for Our Grace’s birthday, I prepared a spread of sixteen deserts. The most popular among her closest guests was a portion of Lemon and Vanilla Panna Cotta, drizzled with a honey based sauce whose contents come from the mountains of Turkey… The two jars, eight ounces a piece, cost our logistics just over three thousand American dollars to obtain. I would say this honey is as unique in its flavor profile, and equally as uncommon in its production.”
Andrade grabbed another cup and started scooping up the freshly prepared snow. He laughed to himself as he layered the first bit of honey.

”Putting it that way, this whole thing feels a little wasteful, but Goddamn it’s good. The honey doesn’t freeze, but it gets nice and close, and it becomes this honey jelly shit… I’m extremely happy to work with you on this…”
He put the honey down and held his free hand out to shake it again.

“What's wasteful is all the free jars I gave my very rich half-sisters…" Trisha murmured, narrowing her eyes for a moment as she mentally calculated how much she could have gotten out of it. A decent amount, and less digs about depending on Ezra's money. Well, she'd given him at least a jar too… surely that made it even. But it was an unexpected amount of money. She'd expected it to be about the same as normal honey, perhaps slightly better… not near three thousand dollars worth.

But that wasn't particularly important right now. She forced her lips up into a half smile, reaching out with the hand not covered in bees to shake Andrade's.
“Me too - well, it's me and Casey you'd be working with… kind of a joint venture. I wouldn't have even thought about it if he didn't suggest it." She glanced at the jar of honey. To think she'd been sitting on something like that for so long. “How much would you expect to use? I don't cook at all, so I really don't know what honey goes into… I'm realising I maybe should. Uh, more specifically, how long would one jar last?"

Andrade nodded with an impressed look on his face.
”Oh, you should still plan for a business without our boy, Bonita. Whether he’s around or not, making sure you’re taken care of on your own should be a young business woman’s primary concern. I’ve seen too many young women go into business with spouses and significant others as partners, things fall apart and all of a sudden the other half is holding the bag.”
He tapped at his head, close to the temple, as if he was some sort of genius for putting her forward.

”But, I would say out of the five of those kids, Casey’s got the best head on his shoulders. So, good luck with it. As far as your other question; We can go through a few jars in a dinner service. But, there’s six restaurants to think about; and of course menus rotate, but I think you have an audience in boxed product. We’ll talk to Casey about it, but I think we can call my facilities ‘Jumping Off’ points for you. Rich people will hear about your honey, we’ll advertise it in our newsletter, we can circulate it through our underground contacts as magic honey… It’ll be good. We’ll make you rich.” he smiled, patting Trisha’s shoulder.
”Oh, speak of the Devil!”

Casey was ascending the stairs, and Lynette wasn’t far behind him with her robes and their clacking spheres that hit the steps. His eyes quickly found Trisha, and like a puppy gone from its master for too long, he was at her side in a flash, arm clutched tight around her waist. Lynette came around Mia’s side, leaning on her daughter like a support beam. She smiled at Trisha and Andrade.
”So, a verdict?”

Andrade smiled back at her, handing over the snowcone he was making to her. Lynette and Mia clinked their paper cups together, and a horrifying sight blossomed forth in front of Trisha without anyone else seeming to notice or care.

”It’s fantastic, Your Grace. I’ll bet that it has a few beneficial properties.”

Lynette took the whole snow cone, let her mouth wrap around the top, and sucked the entire thing down in what looked like one big lump of ice. She crumpled the cup and deposited it in her gaping sleeves as if she had a million pockets in them.
She nodded as she ate, chewing the half frozen honey.
”So we’re on then?”

Andrade nodded happily.
”We were just talking about what the next steps were as you guys were coming up.”
Casey was beaming ear to ear, and he looked at Trisha with bright and happy eyes.
”Mom and I were talking about what the first steps are. I think we can make it work if you want to do this, Trisha. Actually, I know we can make it work. And, I think everyone here will be a big help if everything stays good… So… Maybe we’ll talk it out over a walk?” he offered her.

Trisha didn't respond immediately. She was staring at Lynette, trying to process what she'd just seen. Who ate a snow cone like that? Or anything? It reminded her of how some of the apparitions they fought against ate… unlucky blinds who they caught, or smaller apparitions. She shuddered slightly, leaning into Casey's side. Really, she should be happy about all of this. Her honey was good, there was a possible future with it, even if it meant working with a near cult like religion to begin with (or forever). Finally a success in her unsuccessful life. But she saw Casey smiling, she saw Lynette eat a snowcone like it was a shot, and she felt a distance. Did she really have a part here? Was it something she could do if things fell apart with Casey, which they undoubtedly would?

What Lena had said about her not being good enough was probably enough, and while she'd put those words to the back of her mind while talking to Andrade they hadn't been forgotten. She was all too good at remembering the bad. Casey and Lynette reappearing had just reminded her. After all, their talk was the reason she'd been left alone in Lena's company- had to hear all of that in the first place.
“I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to do it… I'm sure we can make it work too," Trisha said in a tone that didn't particularly sound like someone who thought it would work. It was the tone of someone who'd gotten stuck inside of her own head again, latching onto a hint of negativity that hadn't even come from the current company and running with it. Flat, cold.

It was fine. Go on a walk, talk things through. Pretend it was fine. But she was awful at pretending she was fine, and she was awful at not immediately closing herself off at the smallest of things. She looked up at Casey with a forced smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“Yeah, a walk sounds good. Can we go outside? I'd rather talk about it outside. Nicer for a walk too."

”You read my mind. We can let the bees roam around for a while too. C’mon, we’ll see what flowers are still awake.”
Lynette tugged on Mia gently, moving them both out of the way for Casey and Trisha to head out.
”We’ll see you again, right?” she asked while looking at Trisha. Casey answered for her.
”That’s definitely the cult question to ask, Ma.”
Mia didn’t speak, but she did gently nod her head in agreement. Lynette’s look turned a bit sour, but it was clear that it had nothing to do with her specifically as her eyes turned to her children. She sighed, clearing her throat.

”I hope to see you again soon, Trisha. But, of course, you’re fully able to make your own decision about it which I wo-”
”Alright Mama, great job. We’ll let you know what’s going on later.”
Casey kept ahold of Trisha, but as they started to walk, he wrapped one arm around his sister and mother, squeezing them both tight before ushering Trisha out the front door.

”Bueno con dias, Lovebirds! Casey, you got my back next time, right?”
”Yes Sir, Uncle Dre!”

But Casey didn’t turn. Trisha would be able to feel his pace picking up as he walked back down the hill with her.
”Jesus fucking Christ… It’s like pulling teeth every time, I swear. I’m sorry about that, Babe, seriously, all the fucking crying and shit… We’re cryers, I guess, but that was the last thing I wanted you to have to deal with. And I knew it was gonna happen, and I should’ve fucking warned you, but I was just… Really fucking hoping it wouldn’t be that way.”

“It's fine. The crying didn't bother me," Trisha said honestly, with a shrug. It really hadn't. She wasn't the kind of person that got affected by a couple of tears. It had just been uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. The words that had come before the tears had bothered her a lot more, but admitting that would mean admitting that it reminded her of her mother, and that would be admitting to her own failure. So she pursed her lips, face scrunching up in displeasure for a moment before settling on a more passive grumpy expression.
“You did warn me, anyway, last night. Your mom thought I was going to be a pushover, didn't she? Like I'd just agree to sway you to her side…"

But Trisha didn't really care so much about what Lynette had thought right now. Her hands clasped in front of her, fingers tangling together. It wasn't something she wanted to ask, or think about, because it could lead to other questions, but she also really needed to fucking know where Lena's information had come from.
“That Lena. Can she read minds or… something like that?"

Casey’s face immediately dropped.
”No, she can’t. She’s Abberant like you are; except she’s fully Adjoined… Why? What’d she say to you out there?”
He knew she couldn’t, but he knew that she heard nearly as much as his Mother did, either through direct monitoring or trickle down directly from his Mother’s mouth. He wasn’t happy now, not at all. Not thinking about what Trisha said about her being a pushover, he was instantly defensive about matters concerning Lena.
”I swear, I’ll… Fucking… Do something, I don’t know. What happened?”

“Nothing," Trisha snapped, closing her eyes for a moment and abruptly stopping walking. Her hands clenched in each other, nails digging into her skin. She knew it wasn't Casey's fault. But the irritation had built up and there was no one else to lash out at. Lena couldn't read her mind, so she'd found out through Leon. Had Casey already heard everything that she'd said? Was that what Leon told him this morning? He'd shut him down then, but what if he really thought about it. She knew she was being unfair, but it couldn't be stopped now, resentful words spilling from her lips.
“She just said some shit. It's fine. You left me alone with her, anyway, when she's clearly pissed about us- what did you expect?"

Casey knew instantly what’d happened. He had hoped that it wasn’t going to be like that, but of course it had to be. And of course he wasn’t going to stand for it.
”You’re right. You’re absolutely right, and I didn’t think she was going to make it a problem, but she did. So let me fix it.”
The ex soldier spun on his heel, turning to look back up at the church. His legs began to carry him back up to the precipice with fury building in his core.

“Wait," Trisha turned around and tried to chase after him - which was difficult with her much shorter legs. She would love to see him fix it, but then what Lena said would come out, and he'd hear it, and anyone else there would hear it, and then everyone would agree with it.
“I said it was fine, it's not a big deal, it's fucking fine!"

Casey halted, spun, and threw up his hand with his index finger extended as long as possible. He didn’t point at her, but he certainly would’ve if he hadn’t had a bit more presence of mind.
”One thing you should learn right now is that I’m a problem solver. I’m not a fucking child, we didn’t do shit that way in the Corps, and whenever I get some jumped up little fucking Staff Sergeant who comes and kicks at my office door with passive aggressive bullshit, I rip them in half. Do you get me? Because as long as we’re together, I’m not going to let us get to that point…”

Pushing forward slightly, he bent his knees to get a bit closer to eye level with her. Despite his words, his body motions and posture were calm and measured with laser-like precision. His arms rushed toward her arms to grab them, only to gently wrap around them without any kind of pressure whatsoever. Only gentle, tender and careful caressing.
”Now… Is there a problem that you’d like me to take care of? No questions asked, I will politely ask my Mother to admonish her follower as is her position, and the status quo will be maintained henceforth. Or we can ignore it for now, until you feel like you can talk about it properly. But, if she thinks she’s going to just get away with doing something to you, I can promise you that she’s very fucking mistaken. Very.”

Hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, Trisha didn't push Casey away but she also didn't react to his touch. Her whole body posture was tense, trembling slightly, and her expression incredibly sour. She wasn't scared or intimidated, but she felt stuck. Most people snapped back or just got frustrated and walked away. She didn't get his reaction. Was he angry at her, at Lena, was he not angry at all? She bit her lip hard, glowering eyes shifting to the side and away from him.
“I don't want to talk about it- I don't want you to hear what she said. You've probably already fucking heard it, cause Leon's probably been spreading it fucking everywhere… I don't. Fuck. I don't know."

She let out an irritated hiss, in sync with the buzzing of bees responding to her agitation. But they were still hidden in her jacket. As if they knew what was rational and irrational anger on her part.
“She just said what everyone else was thinking. That I'm-" Not good enough. Promiscuous. Just in it for another warm body, which wasn't far from the truth- but it was the company she wanted. If Lena knew and Leon had told her, or she'd heard him talk about it, Lynette probably knew too. Everyone probably knew. She gritted her teeth. Her head dropped slightly, and she leaned in towards Casey. “I don't want to repeat it, I don't want it repeated. It's not fair, I was fourteen. They don't even know me. I just- don't talk to your mother about it. It's fine."

A new expression formed on Casey’s face. One, at least, that Trisha had never seen before. It wasn’t happy, it wasn’t friendly, it wasn’t good. It was cold. It was like someone had turned all the lights on the sun out, and left the angry red hatred of its core to produce nothing but a dark heat. His hands gripped at her arms, forever delicate despite the new wriggling feeling. It was like he was fighting every little bit of himself to not clamp down.

Words quietly fell from his mouth.
”That fucking bastard…”

And he turned his back to her. It was like all the air rushed away, all of the sound being taken with it.

”LEON!?”

Casey’s voice boomed across the parking lot, echoing up into the steeple and out across the grounds to the dorms.

People immediately rushed out from the Church at the top, brandishing every kind of magic available, only to see Casey storming his way back up toward them. There was a slight deflation in tension, only for him to raise it again.
”Where the fuck is Leon!?”
Lynette pushed out from behind the group of Adepts.
”Casey!? What!? What’s the matter, what’s going on?!”

He took long strides up the hill, getting right into his mother’s face.
”Where is your cocksucking Herald son? He and I need to have a refresher conversation about respect and decency, and I’m not fucking playing. Get him now.”

Trisha had been left staring at Casey's back for a moment, plummeting towards more and more doubts as her chest started heaving up and down. Anxiety gripped her, fear that this was it, he was turning away from her- but he wasn't, was he? This was the opposite, he was angry on her behalf… fuck. Trisha scurried up the hill as quickly as she could, practically hiding behind Casey in the hope that no one would look at her. She raised a slightly shaking hand, grasping at the back of his hoodie lightly.
“I said it was fine," the words came out as barely more than a whisper, near immediately lost in the clamour.

Lynette held her hands up, placing them on Casey’s chest and giving him a stern look.
”Where…”
”Use other words, Caseau…”
”Leon said something to me this morning.-”
”And what?”
”He has preconceived notions about someone who I intend to be special in my life…”

Lynette’s eyes got wide, and she bit her lip in a grimace of concern. Her lips moved, but noise didn’t come out… But they didn’t need to. What was said was clear, and Casey put his hand up like an axe, a chopping motion coming across Lynette’s body without ever actually touching her.
”Yes, that, and I told him-”
”After he’d been here… After he’d said it to… To Lena and myself. And I’m sorry for that. What happened?”

Casey looked back at Trisha, seeing how embarrassing the situation may be for her, and he shook his head.
”Outside of Gatherings, I don’t want to see her. She’s not allowed near Trisha.”
”Of course, Bubba Cher.-” Lynette cooed, doing her best to catch a glimpse of Trisha herself. ”-We… We don’t worry about those sorts o-”
Casey shot his hand up in front of his mother’s face.
”She’s already said she doesn’t want to talk about it. If you really care, you’ll just do what I ask and forget this happened. We’ll get back to you about everything else later.”
Lynette nodded her head, letting go of her son and stepping back slightly.
”Just, please don’t scare us like that… Not after last night.”

Casey looked back, and people had gathered at the dorm windows and out front as well. He shook his head.
”O-of course… I’m sorry for that, you’re right.”
He spun, arms wrapping back around Trisha.
”Do you still wanna walk? Let’s go, come on, there’s plenty of woodlands around here…”

“Yeah." Trisha briefly leaned in, pressing her head against him and taking a deep breath. The resentment she’d felt slowly slipped away, buried back down with all the unexplored issues. It was slightly lessened, and any she’d felt towards Casey was gone now. She felt embarrassed and still felt upset, but having someone actually… defend her? Get angry on her behalf? It was nice.

And he said she was someone he intended to be special in his life. Those weren’t just words you’d say for the sake of it, to your own mother, right? Right.
“A walk sounds nice now, relaxing. Especially in the woodlands- I’m sure the bees reach those when they go around, but I rarely do." She turned around as well, starting to make her way back down the hill. Softly, she added, “thank you. For doing that, and, uh, not getting mad at me too."

As they started to walk away, out of the lot and across the quad grass, further and further out toward the rolling green and brown expanse of trees, Casey held Trisha tightly. At first he was still shaking, but once they got far enough away, he seemed to ease up.
”I can’t think of a reason I’d be mad at you. But, you’re welcome. There’s just no way I can let shit like that slide, not when he goes and says things like that to people like my Mother, or worse to people like Lena. I don’t know what the fuck he could’ve been thinking besides something malicious…”

He shook his head again, rubbing her shoulder.
”But honestly, fuck it. Fuck it, fuck him, I won’t make puns out of your name anymore; I don’t even want to come close to that, it’s… Not fucking right.”

“That’s not the same," Trisha looked up at him, expression beginning to relax from the sullen frown she’d worn since talking to Lena. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. He’d heard it, he knew the nickname, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Not that she could see. Her lips curved up slightly.
“It’s just the bad ones - the ones with my full name, or the nickname I hate. The first person who called me Patty-" she grimaced. “Was one of my half-sisters. We didn’t- don’t- get on. Then all the people who didn’t like me in the coven, like Leon. I don’t mind when it’s with Trisha, and I haven’t been bothered by anything you called me."

She leaned in against his side for a moment, looking at the trees they were approaching. As she calmed down, so did her bees, crawling out from under her jacket and clinging to the outside. A couple of them crawled up onto Casey, just sitting on his arm.
“Hey, look, they’ve already gotten attached. They know you’re the reason I calmed down so quickly," she laughed softly. “I think I prefer it like this. Just us and the bees."

”Heyyy, my girls!”
Casey put his face toward them, his nose pressing against one and nuzzling it. Looking around the forest, Casey could see the different paths between ritual sites and other more habitual hangouts for the teens trying to get some privacy. He had his own path in his head, and he was taking them out there regardless of how bleak it may be.
”That’s pretty great. They’re like… I don’t know, it's like a third person. The good kind of third wheel, like a pet or a kid. One that slots in, you don’t have to force an opening. It’s nice.”

He still leaned into Trisha, just holding her as they walked.
”So… Besides all that, Mom and I, I think, have come to an agreement on how we can get things started. Do you want to hear about it?”

Trisha giggled at Casey interacting with the bees. It was cute, and it was nice. She could sense their relaxed pheromones, which in turn continued to calm her. A few stayed on Casey, a few stayed on her, and the rest started to buzz around them, exploring the nearby area of the forest.

“Yeah, let’s hear it," Trisha said. She did want to know what the agreement was, and how it fit with what Andrade had talked to her about. She smiled and her tone turned more joking. “So long as I don’t have to see your mom eat another snow cone ever again."

”Hey, that looked pretty good honestly…-”
He thought about it for a second, then furrowed his brow.
”-Oh, the… Yeah. Yep, never really asked any questions about that one. She eats all her food like that for some reason, but she’d always yell at us if we copied her…”

Casey’s thoughts trailed off for a moment as he thought about a million family dinners where his mother simply slid the bowl or plate to her mouth and swallowed the contents whole. He didn’t want to think about it now.
”Anyway, I think it sounds doable. It may ask you being a bit understanding as to my situation overall, since I’d… Well… I agreed to a position in the Temple. An actual seat; my title would be something like Righteous Left Hand, Whose Power Guards All Flocks... Translating, I’d be taking over security from our Uncle Furio, whose been asking for a change of title himself recently. It works out, since the position comes with a… Specific location that would be suited to our needs at the time.”

He looked at her expectantly, like he was ready for her to be upset with him about the arrangement.

Trisha bit her lip, face scrunching up and shoulders shaking slightly. This went on for a little while, her expression growing more and more twisted before she couldn’t hold it in. Trisha burst out in laughter, pausing walking to bend over. She couldn’t even process what the job entailed because she was too hung up on the ridiculousness of the title.
“I’m sorry- I just- Righteous Left Hand, haha, it’s so pretentious. Will people have to call you that? I don’t have to, do I? That’ll be incredibly romantic- haha."

She waved a hand, finally stopping laughing and thinking about more about the… rest of it. The actually important stuff. Her lips pursed slightly. She didn’t like the Temple. First impressions weren’t much different from what she’d expected. But she’d started dating him knowing he was with the Temple. As long as she didn’t have to convert or whatever, it was fine.
“What exactly does the job entail? Like sitting in an office watching Temple wide security cams, or breaking the knees of people who go against them?" She asked. She didn’t seem upset, though she also didn’t seem enamoured about the idea. “And what do you mean about the location? Like, you get a field with the job?"

Casey laughed along with her when she mentioned the title. It absolutely was pretentious, but in his mind it was only pretentious because of the age they lived in.
”A thousand years ago, that title would’ve been cool shit. Imagine someone called that showing up to your village and slaying the local dragon? Badass.” he giggled, kicking a rock out of his way as they walked.

”As far as what I’d be doing, well… Yeah. Yeah, there’s a monitoring station, and I’d essentially be in charge of dispatching and coordinating different security protocols. Daily life, events, whatever needs to be watched from a physical standpoint. And, ultimately, I’d need to respond myself if necessary. It’s a hierarchy kind of thing…” he said a little bit more seriously.

In truth, he didn’t want the job. He wanted to get far away, but… It would help Trisha. He could stick it out long enough to help Trisha.
”And where do we live? Well, technically the same place Leon lives. On the roof, there’s an extra living space. It’s the monitoring station, but… Well, Furio and his family live up there right now, but they’ve been sort of ready to move out as long as I can remember. So, we wouldn’t be displacing them or anything. But, more to the point, there’s a greenhouse up there as well. They grow things, and moreso there’s plenty of extra room for boxes and more flowers in the spring and summer.”

Moving in together. On day two. There was a hint of panic in Trisha’s chest at that. Moving in together meant if- when- they broke up she had nowhere to live. It was a commitment based on them staying together. It was- but wait, no. It was in the same city, ten minutes away from where she currently lived. It wasn’t like she needed to fully move out of Sabrina’s. Sabrina didn’t exactly need the space. She could keep that. Thinking of it that way, Trisha was able to completely get rid of the anxiety she felt over the idea.
“The job sounds pretty hard, but if it’s what you want, who am I to disagree? I don’t want to control your life… I mean, you didn’t even need to tell me about it."

Though she did appreciate it, because it meant he would be busier. Not that that would be a problem. She had plenty to do herself… Well, she would, if everything started to work out with the bees.
“That sounds nice. If a whole family lives there, it can’t be too small, right? I’m not going to be able to sleep in a room filled with screens that are constantly on. I’m used to loud buzzing in complete darkness." She grinned, raising a hand to stroke one of the bees still on her. “If there’s a greenhouse, I could grow flowers for the bees during winter too, right? Or maybe it doesn’t work like that… But having more room for them, and a proper place to put flowers for them, would be great. That sounds really nice. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about expanding the hive either. I could get them the biggest box possible and just keep expanding it- heh, it’s technically a penthouse, right?"

Casey nodded, seeing the clearing up ahead. His smile had managed to come back fully, and his expression turned to face her.
”I… Think so? Also, almost certainly built illegally; it breaks the district’s building ordinances, but I think we’re getting away with it because it’s no taller than the water tower on the roof. Oh, that’ll be a good thing; just like downstairs where the water comes up from public lines, the cistern at the top houses water for the upper building floors, and it’s got its own heater, so we get awesome fuckin’ water pressure. No weak showers for us, Babe.” he grinned.

As they continued, they came into a clearing deep in the middle of the woods. There was a stone smack dab in the center, probably the size of a small car. There were carvings all over it, and a lot of dead flowers that had perished in the last couple of frosts.
”Hey Champ! Stopping by to introduce you to someone…”
Casey immediately turned to Trisha.
”Don’t worry, nobody’s actually here. I’m sure Mom has something to listen in or visit the place herself, but… Well, if we live thinking about that forever, we’ll both go insane. Trisha, this is uh, my Dad’s stone. He disappeared a long time ago, and we still… We don’t really know where he is, so… So we come here to talk to him, in case he can hear us somewhere.”

Casey waved his hand across the clearing.
”In the summer, this place is like bee central. So many different flowers growing from here, and from like… Different Universes, I guess. Whatever will grow here, they usually plant it. But, now its too late. Hopefully next summer we’ll be able to see it together. But, Dad… This is Trisha. Trisha, my Dad Max.”
He waved his hand at the stone again, letting it drop to his side with a quiet slap.

“Uh, hi," Trisha said with an awkward wave to the stone. What did she say to a stone memorial for a missing, possibly dead, person? She hardly ever visited her own dad's grave… though they hadn't had much of a relationship to talk about. The whole talking to the dead thing wasn't something she really got. But Casey had brought her here, and it clearly meant a lot to him. She could make the effort.
“I'm Trisha, Casey's girlfriend. Nice to meet you. I'll try and take good care of him."

She smiled softly, shuffling much closer to Casey so that she was right up against him. She wrapped her arms around him and continued to talk in a quieter, softer tone.
“I'd like to see it in the summer. I'll bring all my bees then they can mix with the local ones, maybe they'll make friends. They can all pollinate the fancy other world flowers… I wonder what honey made with that would be like…" she trailed off. “I've met both your parents now, I guess I'll have to introduce you to mine. Dad's easy, since he’s buried in town, but mum's quite busy. She lives on the other side of the country too, so… it might be a while. I'll see what I can do. I'm glad you were comfortable enough to bring me here to see your Dad's stone."

Casey looked vaguely disappointed. He was; wishing that the flowers were still around and that the space was more than just a barren memorial to his maybe-dead father.
”Ah, there’s no rush. There’s a more personal shrine to him inside the Temple, this one is kind of… Just a spot he liked to be at, so we carved into the rock. I… I really just wanted to show you the flowers, but something feels rude about not introducing you properly.”

He made his way to the rock, fingers starting to dig at the soil where he figured one of the weirder plants would be.
”Oh, here! Come, look… This one’s from somewhere else.” he exclaimed, making enough space for her to look at the ground.
Casey’s finger dug around in a small circle, pulling more and more away until there was a small circular bulb in the ground.

”These are cool, they’re like Venus traps. Watch.”
He bumped his finger against the bulb, and it unfurled with grippy little tendrils that all wrapped around Casey’s hand and tried desperately to drag him in.
”I was told they think that if it gets big enough, it could probably get out of the ground and actively hunt. So we cull them when they get about pumpkin sized.”

“Like… A Triffid," Trisha said, crouching down beside him to look at the bulb. She sent out pheromones at the same time to keep her bees away - it couldn't get Casey with those little tendrils, but it could definitely get the bees. At the same time, out of curiosity, she reached forward and tapped one of the tendrils trying to drag Casey in. Her eyebrows raised as some of them wrapped around her fingers. It was pretty fucking strong.
“Oh, that's from an older movie one of my friends made me watch - they're like moving plants that start killing everyone. It's kinda stupid, but I'm glad you're stopping that from becoming a reality."

She laughed slightly at it, because it was still a funny image, of a bulb climbing out of the ground and starting to hunt like it was some kind of predator.
“That is pretty cool… how many other worldly flowers do you have? Does the temple just have a dimension travelling team of seed gatherers?"

”It’s a bit of a hobby for a few Adepts. Well, not really a hobby. A good way of getting people trained and up to speed. We have a couple of Purples who can cross the lines, and one who's particularly good at retracing steps… So we have these curated places that we take people to practice and study.”
Casey poked at the little plant again, nudging it and watching the little thing react with an alien intelligence. He thought about what its life would be like if they just let it grow and roam around, but considering what it became, it was probably too dangerous.

It was brightly colored, blues and greens and oranges striping its bulbous flesh. They said some grew actual eyeballs, but he’d never seen it.
”This one is from one of the common places; its how we know so much about it. Big specimens are sitting there one minute, then disappear the next, they don’t seem to attack Humans at that size, but I honestly think they’re like… Just full of something? Like if they’re big predators, what do they hunt? Definitely not big insects…”

He shrugged his shoulders, giggling as the little thing tried its damn hardest to drag the fully grown man into the dirt. He stuffed the finger against it, pushing down until it let him go, then he buried the poor thing back in the warmer soil.

With a dust of his hands, Casey stood up.
”You know you don’t have to move in with me… I’m happy to give you a place where the bees are comfortable without trapping you and locking you down in something. I promise it’s not a problem…”

Trisha straightened up from her squatting position, still looking at the spot where the little, living bulb had been reburied. Moving in with someone was scary, because what happened when he learned more about her and didn’t like what he saw? But if she moved in with him, he’d always be there. It would be harder to abandon her. She wouldn’t be as lonely… And it would be nice. She’d get to wake up like this morning, with him cuddling her awake. She’d have someone to eat with.

“I want to move in with you." She finally looked up at him again, stepping closer and reaching out to take his hands in hers. “It’s not exactly trapping me. I bet even if I move out Sabrina- she owns the house I live in- will leave my room untouched. It's kind of like my space, and she has a whole floor to herself. My other two sisters have plenty of space too… no one’s fighting for my room. I have a lot of stuff so I’ll probably leave some there anyway…. And I can always go back, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem! So I want to move in. I think it’ll be really nice."

She then grinned, squeezing his hands.
“There’s a few things you should know before I move in with you. First, I’m really clingy in bed. I sleep best when I’m hugging something or being hugged. So you better be prepared to have no space when sleeping. Second, I can be quite grumpy when I wake up. You were lucky this morning… Lastly, I can’t cook. The one time I tried I managed to burn pasta and almost set the apartment I shared with my friends down… they banned me from cooking after that. So knowing all that, do you still want to live with me?"

Casey frowned a bit listening to her qualifiers. It wasn’t that he had a problem with any of it; there were no real problems there. He didn’t expect dinner on the table when he got home, and he was used to catching whatever sleep he could find in the worst possible places. Cramped, hot, musty, didn’t matter. Grumpy either; he’d been trained during the height of the War, there were no “kind and gentle” drill sergeants.

No, Casey simply wasn’t worried about any of that. It was simply what her perception of things was that worried him.
He took a deep breath, eyes trailing downward with a huff.
”It’s… Real sweet you’re worried. But you’re the last thing I’m worried about in this situation… I feel like I need to ask a lot more of you than you need to ask of me.”
His expression was totally apprehensive, and he looked like he was a bit strained thinking about the situation.

”If we’re being honest like that, then… Well, you already kind of saw. You’ve gotten a good sample of what makes my life hard. I… Well, the nightmares to start. I slept sound with you, and maybe that was a fluke, but usually I’m not sleeping. My eyes are closed, I lay there, but when sleep comes so do the bombs and the screams… Sometimes I wake up and I’m screaming, or I’m weeping, so I just… Don’t.”
He shrugged his shoulders, a thousand voices saying “Why don’t you just get it taken care of?”. It was, somehow, shameful despite the nobility he imagined was in it.

Casey felt someone had to carry the pain that others couldn’t, to remind them that War should never be the first option. To teach and to help others understand that there was a reason humans should avoid open warfare. If nothing else, the people involved were testament, and his memories were key to remembering their faces. Their suffering. From the bodies of the young to the grizzled and hateful faces of the old, it was a cycle of hate and pain.
He had to remember it.

”And then there’s… This. This place, this work thing, this thing of my Faith. It’s complex, and not just because it's something I believe in. This… Security position. I think she’s going to make a bigger deal out of it than is necessary: To break my balls. Mother never gives with both hands, as it were; there’s always one hand ready to give, and the other ready to take. I… I don’t necessarily want to put up with it, but… Suffice to say, if God didn’t think all these struggles were necessary, it’s my belief that it wouldn’t have given it’s voice to Lynette Richoux.”

He looked up from his shameful expression, meeting Trisha’s eyes.
”There’s a chance I’ll be gone often. That you’ll be left to your own devices for who knows how long exactly. Like someone travelling for business, except I’d… Well, most likely I wouldn’t be far. Can’t imagine getting further North than Seattle. South? Maybe, but… If we’re going to California, I’d like to take you. Spend time at the beach, maybe get you out on a boat to do some fishing? Go flower shopping?”

Casey got a bit closer to Trisha, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her tight.
”If you think you can deal with all that, then… I’d be honored to live with you.”

“What’s the difference between being alone in a place that's ours or a place that's mine? At least you'd eventually come back to our place," Trisha said softly. She wriggled her arms under his to hug him back, hands resting on his back. She knew that wasn't the whole point. It wasn't even the most important bit. There was the sleeping - she didn't know how to deal with someone who woke up screaming, but she could probably handle the crying. It wasn't like she had a job that required her up and early after an interrupted night. And the faith…

She didn't really get it. She'd never had it, so she couldn't understand some higher power making people suffer for some convoluted reason. Why put up with so much shit for practically nothing? But she kept those thoughts to herself, because it wasn't her place… yet. He'd followed it his whole life, and she'd only known him for a day.
“I can deal with all of it. I don't really understand Faith and what comes with it, but it's fine. And for the sleeping… if you don't sleep at all then you're just getting to cuddle me while I'm sleeping, which is a great privilege, you know. If you do and you wake up crying I'll just hug you till you stop, if you're screaming… I don't know, I'll figure something out. I'm tougher than I look, you know," she smiled warmly at him, after quickly weighing up her options. Maybe this was where she should cut and run - because these were issues she normally wouldn't even bother tolerating. But in such a short period Casey had already tolerated her. It had just been the smaller things, but that was enough to make most people she dated drop her just like that. She didn't want to let that go. “Especially if you take me to California. I've never been fishing, but I bet I'd be alright at it- and I love beaches. Not that I visited many, but there's just something relaxing about them."

She tilted her head up, stretching her neck to lightly kiss the bottom of his chin before smiling again.
“Let’s move in and handle all the challenges together. And if all the shit with your job gets too much? We can go kick down my brother's door and get him to provide our next apartment, since it'd only be fair. Try out what my side of the family would be like to deal with… Probably a bit easier, I've figured out exactly how to get what I want out of Ezra… When his security doesn't stop me."

Casey couldn’t help but let a small tear leak from his eye, which he quickly covered up by bending and pressing himself close, burying his head in the crook of her neck and resting there with slow, gentle breathing.
”Then it’s settled. We’ll… Well, actually, maybe you-”
Isn’t this fast? What did you say last night? That you weren’t just going to jump int-
”-should take care of moving whatever you want. Or, us. You and I. I was going to say that the Temple would be able to provide some movers, but if you had furniture, it’d be a dangerous game letting one of them get anywhere they could hide something… But, then, it’s still her building.”

Casey pulled back from the hug, a half-annoyed and half-glazed look in his eyes. His trauma was struggling with his enthusiasm, the two ethereal titans clashing against one another for dominance as he desperately tried to pull himself out of the fire. A huff of air left his nostrils like the ghost of a laugh haunting the moment.
”This is hard. Because I’m supposed to try and trust her. And I don’t know how to, and exposing you to that makes my skin crawl. Because you’re never going to think what I think, or believe what I believe entirely, you’re always going to have a disconnect when it comes to understanding why… Why I can’t really do anything about this.”
He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head.

”But you’re not backing down. I have to give you that. It’s why I think you’re so fucking cool, Trisha Bee. So, if you really want to go on this ride with me, I’m seriously honored to have you to share the sights with. Because I think I could love you for a long time. Forever, maybe.”

“I do," Trisha managed to say, brain grinding to a halt for a moment as Casey's words played on repeat in her mind. Could love you for a long time… Did that mean he already- no, he said could. He could see himself loving her eventually and it lasting a long time. Even if he did- it should be scary, but it just made her feel happy. He wasn't going to just leave her. It wasn’t enough to make her feel safe, to satiate all her anxieties, but it was a start. What he said had such permanence, warming up her entire body and darkening her cheeks as sparks crackled in her chest. It took a moment, but eventually it stopped playing over and over again in her head, and the warmth in her cheeks receded slightly.
“I really do want to. I really like you, Casey, so I’m willing to deal with it all."

She reached up to cup his face with her hands, thumbs lightly rubbing his cheeks, her smile soft and gentle.
“I’m not going to tell you that you should trust your mother or anything, and I probably won’t understand… But yeah, I won’t back down, and I’ll have your back. I’m really good at getting what I want, just so you know, and since what I want is you, I won’t let anything else get in the way."

It wasn’t quite true - she was good at getting what she wanted materially, but never emotionally. It was easy to demand money from a half-brother she didn’t care for, and who would rather shove cash in her bank than ever talk to her. She got gifts from her mom when they were together because it was easier than actually talking. But this time would be different… hopefully.

“I don’t really have furniture I’m attached to outside of the hive- will the place already be furnished at all, or do we need to bring all that? Only some of the stuff in my room is mine, anyway, and I don’t think Sabrina would be happy if I stole the bed… If we don’t need furniture it’ll be easy. You have a car, I have a car, we can just load them both up with my stuff, it’ll take one or two trips, I bet." She tilted her head, thinking about it. She had a lot of clothes and just stuff in general, and had no idea what kind of space they’d have.
“I’d probably need to see the place before I even thought about packing… I have a lot. I’ll probably leave some of it at Sabrina’s for storage…"

She trailed off, laughing.
“I’ll figure it out, but I don’t think it’ll be hard. I could move in today if I really wanted to."

Casey’s expression grew thoughtful as he considered what sort of work would need to be done to move in.
”I… I think the furniture up there is pretty crappy? Besides their daughter’s room, I hear Furio complaining all the time about the bed and stuff. I could probably dip into my portion of our Dad’s money for some furniture, since I’d need it whether I was moving there or in some different state. I’ll just have to ask my Big Sister to, uh… Authorize it, I guess. I’m not sure how it all works.”
He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. His head turned to the stone with so many different carvings in it. Little pictures, or quotes. Nuggets of inspiration his Father had given the writers throughout the years.

He saw his own carving.
See you soon.

Not soon enough that the government wasn’t willing to consider him dead. So dead that his estate could be broken up among the names in the will: His wife, and a certain portion to each child. All he knew was that his should’ve been untouched. He wasn’t sure whether to thank the old man or to apologize for pillaging.
He spun, holding Trisha’s hand tightly.

”Not to rile you up… But if Leon said the same thing to my Mom and to Lena that he said to me: I really don’t care about shit like that. I can’t stress that enough. You’re you to me, and that’s all, no matter who was around first or what you’ve done with them. So, the next time someone like HitLena the Fuhrer gives you shit and tries to use it against you? I want you to think of my face, and I want you to smile back at them; because you shouldn’t be able to see them past me. I’m what matters, just like you’re what matters to me.”

So Casey already knew. Well… that was fine. For now. He seemed to be fine with it, he said he was fine with it, it was just difficult to believe. Though it wasn't like she'd ever cheated, and it was rarely the reason people broke up with her… it was just one of the many things her mom used against her.
“I’m not sure I could think of your face if it's her," Trisha half laughed, glancing away before looking back with what she hoped passed as a joking smile. “She’s just too ugly! There's no way… it's like trying to imagine a really nice meal while eating dog food."

And if only it was as easy as them being what mattered to each other. How nice it would be to not care about other people's opinions, to be able to just grin and bear it. She couldn't do that. She definitely didn't want to give false promises that she could, because that would just lead to more disappointment when she broke them.
“I’ll try not to let them get to me next time." Next time she'd just punch Lena in the face and be done with it.

“You're not going to rile me up by bringing this stuff up afterwards, it's just in the moment…" she continued. While that wasn't strictly true, when it was brought up like this it was fine. He wasn't repeating what Lena had said, or bringing back any old arguments… She smiled slightly, squeezing his hand.
“It’s fine now, anyway…" time to change the topic back to something easier. “If we're going to replace the furniture, does that mean we can go furniture shopping? I've never actually gone to a shop for something like that… I've hardly chosen my own furniture and it's always online. I'd like to go together and pick everything out- it'll be fun. And we can split some of the costs. I have money from my dad too, and the last job I did. Then I won't feel so guilty when I start demanding a specific type of wood."
She was joking about the last bit, but she did want to help pay for it.

Casey was half tempted to just blurt out something to his mother, assuming there was a listening post nearby enough that she’d be interested: But he was supposed to trust her. The phrase kept echoing in his head for a long while as they started their walk back toward the Temple grounds proper.
”Being honest with you, I'm not terribly attached to one style or another. I guess I’d… Probably want a bigger tank for Traitor. Maybe think about getting some other kinds of friends for him, some kind of big suction fish to help filter things. And, being up there, I can make it… Well, pretty magical? I think I can work some spells out for extra space around the place, since it’s a bit smaller.”
He waved his hand.
”Anyway, my point was asking what sort of like… Look, you had in mind? If you want, I can give Clarissa a call and she can come shopping with us, since she knows the place best and can give us an idea on dimensions. She’s real laid back, definitely the kind of person you want to meet. We call her Auntie Happy.” he smiled.

Trisha had no idea what look she had in mind. She didn’t have a look in mind at all. She’d never actually thought about something like that. She’d decorated her room and gotten more shelving, made it something like a home - but it was just a bedroom, and a lot of the furniture was already there. A whole apartment was more than that. What did she want…
“I’d like it to be cosy," Trisha eventually said. “It’s not really specific, but I want it to feel like… a warm home. Greens and blues and wood colours, maybe? Or reds… Colour doesn’t really matter. Just not like where I grew up, which looked fancy but had no feeling. But I don’t actually have a specific look."

Just being able to choose it herself, with him, would be nice. She’d never had that opportunity, beyond the bedroom in her current place.
“And if Clarissa really lives up to the Aunt Happy name, let’s invite her along. My idea of space is definitely way off, I grew up in a mansion and my mom’s place was pretty big too. Without some guidance I’ll probably choose a bunch of stuff that can barely fit, and then we’ll be squeezed in there with all our furniture. We’d have to do everything standing… it’d be like an indoor assault course."

She laughed at the thought of that.
”Oh, I’ll need somewhere to work too… It can just be a corner of a room, anywhere I can fit my computer. I don’t always have work, so it can be used for other things too- it’s a really good desktop, if you want to use it."

At first he thought she was talking about a place to work with the bees, and he was going to ask a dumb question. But, she started talking about computers, and Casey smiled.
”You work on your computer? Designing stuff? Or like, the codes? Programs and stuff?”
He cleared his throat, thinking about all the times they’d tried their hardest to get him to use a computer in the Reserve. He was used to hitting the Comm to beam something across half a mile on a secure magical channel. Computers were the real magic, and frankly he was intimidated by their complexity. Even looking things up online was generally foreign, his only real experience being with his phone that he had to ask Mia’s help with all the time.

Sometimes the calluses on his fingers made it so the screen couldn’t detect him touching it. He’d learned to almost exclusively use the ring finger, since it’d been “underutilized” during his service.
He thought about the equipment that he’d requested from his Mother to make her special requests a reality. He was security, but he was also arms and armory. The tenth floor was being converted into a smithy, the six different apartments hosting different extremely secure spaces for storing and distributing magically enchanted equipment. Low budget artifacts, whose component costs would be covered by the sale of the easily manufactured and highly effective magical ammunition he’d been in charge of producing for his men.

Casey’s entire effective career in the Army had been based around the application of magic to empower available equipment. He had a list of spells the length of his arm, and had been the man in charge of a team producing thousands of rounds of magical ammunition an hour for several different groups.
He wasn’t educated. He was specialized.
”One of the apartments downstairs… The actual security apartment, the one with the cameras and computers. Not every room is full of stuff, so we can still work closely without being forced into the same room. And I mean, there’s a kitchen and everything. If the machines get too loud you can close the apartment door and your office room door.”

Casey had a thoughtful look still lingering on his face as he shuffled for his phone in his pocket.
”This uh… The… Psych doctor they had me seeing in the Reserve said that it’s not good to have one’s work and life occupy the same space. So, you get a little separation with it too, the whole flight of stairs you need to walk down into the offices. And you can leave your window open for the bees, we can do whatever you want to it. And and,-”

Turning round the path to avoid a hill, the two came face to face with themselves. Casey stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the mirror-like surface.
”-uhhhh?”
It was a teardrop surface standing erect like a tree stump in the middle of the forest… Like some ornamental mirror glass had been hung from the spot. Casey pulled Trisha a little closer.
”This… Isn’t something I’ve heard about.”

”What the fuck," Trisha hissed at suddenly being faced with herself. She’d been trying to figure out how to explain her contracting job in a way that made it not sound lame, though since he called it ‘the codes’ that shouldn’t be too hard, and wasn’t prepared for the sudden stop. Or that. If it was something Casey hadn’t heard about, they didn’t know what they were dealing with, which immediately put her on edge.

She closed her eyes, just in case seeing her own reflection somehow did something. It- well, the Stygian Snake had been good at mind tricks. She didn’t want to risk it.
”I’ll check it," she whispered, not really meaning herself. Her body tensed slightly as she sent just one bee closer to the reflective surface. Maybe it wasn’t dangerous, maybe it was, but it was easier to put one small thing at risk. The bee flew close enough that the beating off its wings could be felt.

Feeling somewhat threatened by its fellow flying insect, the massive butterfly’s wings unfurled in two stages. Tremendous carapace joints snapped into place as it showered a solid ten foot diameter with so much pearlescent dust that it coated them both in a mirror-like bismuthine finish.
The actual beating noises as it began to take off were like truck mud flaps smacking against rocks or something else being thrown up by the moving tires. A stupendous amount of effort seemed to go into getting enough momentum for the gargant to pull itself from the perch of a tree it’d sat on.

If it was in fear, it clearly had no chance in acting on that fear with any reasonable response. After a few flaps spread the silvery rainbow shimmering dust in a wider area, it must’ve been satisfied by the threat response; the creature settled down with newly ruffled pearl white fuzz devoid of the built up film.

It was everywhere else. One big mirror glitter bomb. Casey looked down at his body, then at Trisha, and then he couldn’t do anything but start laughing hysterically.

Trisha was shocked, while being bombarded by panicked bee pheromones that led to more panicked bees all clinging to her. They reacted before she did, beginning to try to shake the shimmering dust off of their little bodies. Trisha was still staring at the massive butterfly like creature. Then, finally, she looked at Casey. Then herself.

”What-" Trisha started, before stopping. She wasn’t laughing like Casey, though she wasn’t exactly annoyed about it either. The whole thing was just strange. How was she meant to react?! ”Was that meant to scare us off? It didn’t- achoo!"

Trisha sneezed loudly as some of the dust got up her nose, wrinkling it uncomfortably. With a light huff, she reached up to take her hair out of its ponytail. Silver specks fell off it as it tumbled onto her shoulders and she then leaned forward, properly shaking it out. Once it seemed mostly free of dust, she tied it back up into a bun so it wouldn’t pick up anymore. Hopefully. Then she straightened back up and shook out all of her limbs. A little bit less covered, she turned to Casey again… and finally started laughing over it.
”You look like a massive disco ball- if you stood right in the sun I bet you could blind someone."

Casey took a bit of a fanciful approach toward ridding himself of the powder, disco dancing his way around until most of it was shaken loose.
”Y’know, I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna get an annoyed text message later about how we use this stuff for something… It just feels too familiar to not have a bad feeling. C’mon, let’s get the hell out of here.” he kept laughing, patches of the dust still clumped in his hair as they made their way out toward the realm of the living again.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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Interactions: Sloane Most Aggresively @Atrophy, Amara @Blizz, Tayla @silvermist1116, Anyone Drinking
Kari's House

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Linqian rolled her eyes as Amara came up, talking some crap about how it was going to be a long day and just being a pretentious ass. She hadn’t even fucking turned up until now! It wasn’t like Linqian had even said that much shit to Sloane. When it came to how she normally talked to Sloane, she’d been pretty fucking polite. Held herself back, even.

”I hardly said shit, Amara, so fuck off with your. Whatever.” Linqian held up her hands, rolling her eyes at Amara again and stepping back. She could hear Layla say something to her in the background, but ignored it, since it didn’t add anything… Plus, she was still butchering Chinese when speaking to her. Fucking hell, this was one of the reasons she didn’t want Henri meeting anyone here.

”Three, didn't you get shot?”

Britney

”Huh, he was the kid that got shot?” Linqian looked between Britney and the kid. She hadn’t been in a position to get a good look at that kid’s face, and honestly stopping herself bleeding to death from two bullet wounds had been a more pressing concern. But he did look a little familiar. She squinted at him, before shrugging. Not her problem. He said he wasn’t living on the streets, he wasn’t her kid, she didn’t have the time or energy to worry anymore about it. Enough of her own shit to handle.

She moved out of the house and back onto the patio. It was difficult to keep up with everything Kenshiro was saying, with his ability to jump around so many topics, but she did hear him suggesting a drink in the memory of everyone they’d lost.

A drink for Jinhai.

She’d had so many of those, alone. A nice bottle of wine meant to celebrate his new job, drank the day after he died along with three more until she passed out on the couch. A shot or two stolen at the end of almost every shift.

A drink with others, for the victims, would be nicer.

”I’ll join that drink,” Linqian said, almost smiling, and moving towards Sully. It was good to see him again, without the whole toga party situation. Ken too. ”For Jinhai and everyone else.”

But when Aislin got out a bong and started lighting it up, Linqian blanched. Fucking seriously? Here, in front of a house they'd just broken into? When talking about their dead? She was getting fucking high?

Linqian shot her a heated glare, lips twisting down into a scowl.

"I'm almost positive we're being watched from those trees by someone. Just a feeling."

Tayla

Linqian hadn’t even realised Tayla was there till she spoke up at being watched. She really wanted to talk to her again and make it clear she wasn’t alright with half the shit Edict had said in the bar that night, and that if he came after Tayla and her son Linqian would be the first to kick his ass, but right now didn’t seem the time. Not when everyone was around.

And at the end of the day, she’d make the same decision. Edict was the one paying her enough to keep her housed, and her brother fed. She was even able to start paying off the interest on her debts for the first time. That couldn’t fucking compare to a little bit of solidarity.

But maybe she should try talk to her, check things were cool since she’d basically been the sort of neutral party. It wasn’t like Tayla knew she was working for Edict… At least, as far as Linqian was aware.

”Hey, Tayla, how-”

Suddenly, she remembered.

---

”The fuck was that?” Linqian grimaced as soon as she came out of the recollection. She quickly glanced around - no Edict, so he wasn’t fucking messing with them. Wasn’t there a word for something like this? Some mind fucky memory shit that happened a few times around the Stygian Snake… Man, the fuck was it called? Whatever. Who fucking cared.

The contents of the vision were what was important. She furrowed her brow as she tried to think about it. She wasn’t good at this shit. It was the kind of stuff Jinhai would always take charge of. He was the one good at figuring things out and deciding what to do. Linqian could make decisions, but they very rarely worked out well without him. Fuck. Just think about what it focused on…

Emily… 8th Street… 8th Street… Linqian narrowed her eyes, something niggling at the back of her mind. She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the kid's question about Emily in favour of a harsh finger pointed at Sloane.

”You know, Sloane, Vashti said the funniest fucking thing at the Halloween Festival,” Linqian said, stepped back towards Sloane. ”She said to tell you to drop round their manor again to talk to Emily. Want to tell us what the fuck you and your worse half,” her finger swapped to Anya, then back to Sloane with a sneer, ”are planning with 8th? Behind our fucking backs?”

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Interactions: Ken @AtomicEmperor, Sully @Atrophy, Clancy @Zombiedude101, Everyone
Kari’s House, Patio

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BANG!

Luca nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around to the source of the loud bang on high alert. After yet another few unpeaceful days thanks to a certain skeleton, he was a little on edge when it came to things like this… even though he felt otherwise pretty chill. Chill enough to handle Britney’s presence, at least! Sloane didn’t appear to have done too much damage, either… At least it was less than he would’ve done just stepping near it.

And people were unnecessarily going at each other again. But there was nothing he could do about it, and there was nothing he could help with in the house. He was just as likely to destroy any clues as he was to find them. He was most useful out here, keeping watch just in case.

”The bar is officially open.”

Sully

”Heyyy, Sully!” Luca waved to Sully with a grin, finally getting an opportunity to actually talk to him. He got a bit closer, but made sure to keep at least an arms length between him and anyone else. It had been ages since they’d talked, since he hadn’t really had the opportunity the last few meetings. It was great to see Sully again in seemingly good form! ”You don’t happen to still have a water gun you could use to shoot me over some of that elixir? I bet your aim’s still as good. We had the technique absolutely down back in the day.”

Stormy asked about the kid, and Luca frowned trying to remember. ”Yeah, he was there. Said something about being Ashley’s cousin. Strange kid, we didn’t hear much before we were teargassed.”

Strange kid indeed.

Luca’s expression wavered for a moment, but he ignored the rot’s voice in his mind. It was often the best way to deal with it. As he ignored it, he caught Ken’s words, then saw the tears running down his face. Shit. He wanted to say something to comfort his friend, but he didn’t have the words. And Ken didn’t dwell on it, so Luca wouldn’t either. Best to just move on and remain positive about things! As others moved in towards Sully, Luca stepped back to avoid catching anyone in his rotting aura.

”No alcohol for me,” Luca held up his hands and waved them. Beyond the logistical problem of actually getting a shot to him, he really couldn’t risk drinking. Especially not when he’d just barely recovered from the last two days of rot caused illness. He knew Ken would understand… Ken knew more about his state than anyone else here. It was difficult to completely hide from someone who visited randomly and semi-frequently. He didn’t know just how bad it was, at least. ”If I’m going to watch everyone’s backs - because a basement is the worst place for me - I gotta be sober! I’ll take a pretend shot.”

He smiled at Ken, raising his empty hand as if raising a glass.

Until Aislin got out a bong. Luca coughed as the smell, and the light smoke, hit him, turning around and bending over as rasping coughs wracked his still recovering body. ”Hey, Aislin, do you mind doing that elsewhere-”

Suddenly, he was pulled into the recollection.

---

Luca was still reeling when he came out of it, a gloved hand reaching up to press against his forehead. He could feel the start of a pounding headache, the sort that started as a pressure underneath his skin and built until it was a sledgehammer against his skull. Maybe it was just all of the noise.

”Yeah, we saw it,” he said as Clancy asked, glancing down at the dent in the wall that he could just about make out from over here. Had he done that? Well… it should be a surprise. Luca touched a wall and it was destroyed just as easily. No wonder the rot seemed to sense something off about the kid.

He shook his head as he tried to think through the recollection. Tried to place it. Before Kari and Elsa were murdered, obviously. After he’d left 8th Street. Relatively recently? How long ago had he left? He couldn’t remember exactly… But that didn’t matter. Emily had wanted Kari to join. That made sense, she knew a lot. But why now? 8th Street had been together for ten years. As far as he was aware, they hadn’t reached out to Kari when he was part of it.

And there was a hint of guilt bubbling in his chest. She’d mentioned Lisa and Ella… Luca remembered them well, even after such a short friendship. He’d liked them both too, yet he’d joined Emily’s coven. He hadn’t known them as long as Kari, but still…

He shook his head, snapping out of it and looking back over to Clancy when he asked about Emily. Shit. He glanced at Britney, then back at Clancy.

”I’ll explain,” Luca raised his voice, stepping towards Clancy before anyone else could start talking about Emily - whether it was shitting on her, or shitting on Britney for what she did to her. ”I’m Luca, by the way, anyway… Emily was a part of the old coven. And yeah, she is an asshole. She was an asshole then too. But someone here forcefully adjoined her to an apparition, so you could say there’s more bad blood because of that.”

Luca decided not to mention Britney by name, because that seemed to be like unnecessarily airing dirty laundry. He couldn’t stop anyone else from doing it- but they certainly couldn’t have a problem with him not because he was the only person here actively dealing with the aftermath of that shit.

”She started her own coven, the one mentioned in the, uh, vision - 8th Street. At first they were trying to learn about magic and get rid of the abstractions that some of us- them had been given against their will. Then a few years back they started doing other shit… Anyway, she’s part of this because Father Wolf will also be after her, and at least four other 8th Street members who used to be part of our coven.”

He winced, hearing Linqian in the background going in at Sloane for contacting 8th Street. While he didn’t explicitly state it, it would be fairly obvious he knew more about 8th than the casual observer would.

Honestly, aside from Jasper, Lila, Lynn and Ken, 8th Street (Emily and Vashti aside) still felt like more of his coven than Sycamore did.

”They do have a book that can basically tell you anything, so they might know something about Father Wolf. I don’t think Emily is him-” because she would’ve killed Britney first, and years ago, “- but they might know something.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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Interactions: Britney @Punished GN, Sloane @Atrophy, Aryin @NoriWasHere, Clancy @Zombiedude101
Kari's House

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”We've got a lotta catching up to do,” Linqian said quietly to Aryin, swinging out from the hug but keeping on arm slung around her friend's shoulder. ”Come round to mine for a drink after this.”

She smiled slightly when Sully appeared, nodding to everything he said about Lyss. As much as she'd seemingly moved right on from Lyss' death to heckling Aryin, it had affected her. It was just that the effect was increasing the pervasive numbness she felt, and the deep sadness she was keeping hidden beneath it all. For her, grief was something to be buried deep down and covered up with shorter tempers and lies about being perfectly fine. She removed her arm from Aryin, starting to move towards Sully to join the moment, because-

BANG!

”Holy shit-” Linqian jumped before she burst out in shocked laughter, pausing her movement towards Sully and the chalice. She shook her head in disbelief. ”Fucking hell, and she went off at me for being irresponsible.”

The move had taken some balls Linqian didn't think Sloane had. It was an incredibly stupid move that even Linqian would make… at least unless she was pissed. She rolled her eyes at Sloane's muttered comment. Bitch.

”I'm going to make sure Britney doesn't get ganged up on by the dickish duo,” Linqian said, patting Aryin's shoulder.

Linqian then followed Britney into the house, moving past Anya with a sneer. She shoved one hand into a pocket and leaned behind Britney, eyes narrowing at Sloane.

”Fucking hell, Sloane, you wouldn't do this to the house of someone you'd cared about, would you? If this was-” fuck, she couldn't believe she was going to use her brother's name this way, ”- Jinhai's house, would you just kick down the door? No? Show her the same respect. And some of us can't fucking afford to pay off the police when we get arrested for breaking in. It's not like you found this fucking lead anyway, so get down off your high horse."

It probably sounded strange coming from Linqian, but her problems were with living people. She'd gladly burn Sloane's house down while she was alive, but not when she was dead. Perhaps that was twisted. But she'd lost too many herself to be alright with destroying what they left behind. If someone did that to Jinhai's belongings… she'd kill them.

Then there was the kid, popping up out of nowhere. Linqian's eyebrows raised. Ashley's cousin, she vaguely remembered from the last meeting when Sloane had used condolences to him as a slap in the face towards Linqian. Wasn't the kid's fault. In fact, she had naturally good feelings towards children. They reminded her of her little brother when he was younger and cuter. Though this kid wasn't really cute at all.

”He's not wrong,” Linqian couldn't help but laugh, leaning against Britney slightly as she continued to peer around her. Their fighting was a problem, and when she wasn’t pissed off she knew that. Did it stop her getting into fights? No. ”But you are wrong about one thing, kid. We're not all friends. We're a bunch of people forced to work together again, where a few of us are friends, a few of us fucking hate each other. I'm sorry about Ashley, by the way. I lost my brother to the fucker too.”

She then noted his duffle bag, raising an eyebrow. ”You moved into Kari's house or something? Please tell me you aren't living on the streets.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

_{With @Atrophy}

November 1st, 1:03am
Anya’s Apartment -> Ezra’s Dream

---

It was past midnight by the time Anya got home - after a rather chaotic night, and ensuing time ensuring Sloane got home safely and didn’t choke in a puddle of her own vomit. It was late, but that didn’t bother Anya too much. For her, the night was only just starting. There was no point entering dreams too early and risking someone not being asleep yet. The item she’d given Ezra would induce dreams as soon as he was asleep but she couldn’t make assumptions that he was an early sleeper.

Past midnight was a safe bet.

After changing out of her still damp halloween outfit into a more comfortable jade turtleneck and loose, black dress pants, she pulled out her Channeller. The sleek, silver pen was held between delicate fingers and moved through the air to spell out the words: Ezra Vanburen.

It lit up a soft purple, a glow that soon surrounded Anya as she disappeared…

… and stepped out into Ezra’s dream.

Anya would find herself in a city not unlike St. Portwell, the geometry warped in subtle impossibilities, the windows of skyscrapers reflecting an ever shifting landscape. The streets were abandoned, the names on the signposts whirling gibberish that only stopped when stared at. A man in a suit, ill-fitting like that of a boy playing dress up with the sleeves drooping over his hands, walked the lonely roads, passing by corner stores and boutiques. The signs displayed no names, only ever changing numbers, a ticker tape of imaginary gains and losses. Mannequins were displayed not only in the window but behind the counters and perusing the shelves. Their heads turned ever so slightly as the man passed.

The sidewalk extended out beyond the horizon, the cityscape morphing into a marketplace. Tents and tables stretched to infinity. None of them displayed merch, only stacks upon stacks of dollar bills. The man paused to inspect the money as the shadow of a giant fell over the entire area, the shadow retreating as Ezra pulled his hand back from the cash. The bills began to get pulled away up to a swelling storm, drifting further and further out of reach, sweeping back towards the city. Ezra turned, following the trail slowly, the giant shadow just behind him, always upon his heels.

Keeping slightly out of sight, but not particularly concerned when it came to someone blind, Anya rolled her fountain pen between her fingers. It would be best to start with the most visible elements. She only planned to make a few changes - adding obvious objects that would be memorable and slightly out of place, and changing the environment to something distinctive. Those would be the best proof that her ‘dream manipulating box’ really worked.

Of course it didn’t, but her magic was a perfectly good substitute until she could channel it into an object.

She concentrated on their surroundings. Bring down the scale, bring them to a single room location. She manipulated the dream to create a bookcase in front of her first. A precaution when the space was going to be made smaller. Next, walls began to form - slowly from the ground up, shimmering along the top until they solidified. They were a muted teal in colour as they grew around them. To Anya, it was a slow and laborious process. To the blind, it wouldn’t be noticeable at all. But to those with Emotional-Fields? It would be obvious.

Anya was being more reckless than she normally would be. She was confident that Ezra was blind, and after such a tiring night she just wanted to get it over and done with.

Ezra stopped his plodding to and fro as he found himself being boxed in. He looked around as if he were actually perceiving his environment for the first time instead of just absentmindedly drifting through it like a leaf in the breeze. His gaze stopped upon the bookshelf. He approached, picked a book from the shelf, and thumbed through its pages. He set the book back in the case, the sleeves on his suit shrinking to a more proper fit, turned to leave, and paused.

Slowly, he picked the book back up, the suit on his body no longer looking like that of a child wearing their father's but of a man who had spent too much money to have it perfectly tailored to fit his frame. His brow furrowed as he reread the page in front of him, the words unchanged from before and tried to change them with his mind as he focused on them, using an old trick of lucid dreamers to realize when they were lost in a dream or stuck in reality. The words remained the same. His lip twitched at the oddity as he went to put the book back and made direct eye contact with a pair of brown-green eyes observing him from behind the shelf.

Oh dear. Anya's concentration faltered as she met Ezra's gaze, wall formation stopping just before the room was complete. It left them in an empty box of a room - no roof, just teal walls all around them, decorated with various art pieces and certificates. The outer dream was still visible through it, the shadow ever looming.

After years spent walking in dreams, Anya could tell the difference between someone who saw her and someone who really saw her. Ezra was the latter. Like a normal dreamer, he'd gone to leave the unremarkable bookcase. But he came back. Not only that, he picked back up the book. She could feel the subtle shift in the dream as he tried to change her creation. But something magically created couldn't be changed by mundane means. It wasn't a normal object in a dream anymore… which only made it clearer that she'd been caught.

No sense in hiding now.

”Well,” Anya said, lips pulling up into a diplomatic smile. She stepped out from behind the bookshelf, fountain pen carefully gripped in her fingers. While this was an unexpected development, she still had the upper hand. Dreams were her realm. ”I suppose you didn't expect to see me here. I won't pretend I 'programmed' myself into your dream, as that's perhaps stranger than explaining the truth. But first…”

She trailed off, eyes narrowing in concentration. The fountain pen glowed softly and a comfortable, dark blue armchair began to form. After about thirty seconds it was complete, as if it was real and had always been there. Then, she created another identical armchair opposite it. The whole process was incredibly smooth, almost seamless. It seemed to take no effort on her part at all.

”Take a seat,” Anya gestured with a smile, walking around to the further armchair and delicately sitting down on it. She crossed her legs, hands resting on them with her fountain pen lightly held beneath her fingers. Maybe she should have predicted this. If his vapid younger sister, Patricia, had an abstraction, why wouldn't he? But she had always got the impression from Patricia that it wasn't a common Vanburen trait. ”So… you're an adept? Or, perhaps an Aberration?”

“Is that what we’re calling investors these days,” said Ezra, avoiding the question. He took the seat offered to him, running his hand across the fabric first as if to verify that it was tangible. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and studied Anya with a look that hinted more at curiosity than suspicion. His eyes lingered on her fountain pen. “Truth be told, I didn’t expect to see anything here tonight.”

“I checked your dream box after we spoke. I may not look the part, but I have some technological expertise. I was impressed by the circuitry involved. None of it actually did anything but control the LEDs on the outside of the box, but it was nice to see someone put in the effort to make a dud that at the very least looked convincing. I imagine my intelligence would've felt more insulted if that hadn't been the case.”

Ezra had checked for other things: trackers, listening devices, etcetera. By the time he was done there were no secrets left undiscovered inside of that little black box. There was no need to give Anya any additional information now that she had shown herself to be dishonest. Yet she could've tried to play herself off as part of the dream but didn't. It was intriguing. She was acting like she held all the cards. Perhaps she did. He leaned back in his chair as if the prospect of not being the one in control was relaxing to him.

“So, your con is spoiled. Now what?” asked Ezra. He looked around at the sterile environment Anya had created for them. “If you’re trapping me in a dream world the least you could do is provide some drinks and a little entertainment.”

”I'm not trapping you anywhere,” Anya smiled, one slender finger tapping her fountain pen. With a soft glow a dark, oak coffee table appeared between them. ”This is your dream. You can leave anytime you want. All you need to do is wake up. So, tea? Coffee? Or something stronger?”

As she asked, she created an intricately designed pot of tea and two china cups. Another thought, and it was filled with warm liquid. Of course, she could change it to whatever she wanted without having to change the teapot exterior. ”It won't affect you when you wake up, but it tastes like the real thing. If you want anymore changes, just ask. But anything larger will take time, and I'm sure you want to get straight to the point.”

”I wouldn't call this a con. Merely a twisting of the truth. Yes, the circuitry only controls the LEDs. That doesn't mean it's all the box does. The box is just a vessel, in a form best suited to the buyer. For you, it was a technological explanation. Of course, your expertise was an oversight on my part. But for others, it's crystals, or a charm. The explanation I gave you about generating signals to manipulate the brain's electrical impulses is entirely sound, in theory. Sadly, it's not possible with current technology. But, the box didn't do nothing. It ensured you dream tonight, allowing me to do this,” she gestured to the room around them. Of course, it wasn't very impressive yet, but she'd only had a short period of time to work on it. Give her an hour and the dream would look truly impressive. ”One day, it will be able to do that in my place. But you wouldn't find that with your technological expertise, as it's not the circuitry. It's magic.”

She let the word hang in the air for a moment. Her posture was completely relaxed, smile never once leaving her lips. If Ezra didn't see the value in a magic based business, and still viewed her as a fraud, that was fine. She would continue as she had been. And while she knew that he could hurt her in this dream if he truly wanted to, the reverse was true. And it was much easier for her to leave. ”You may view our earlier conversation as dishonesty, but I view it as a way to explain the inexplicable.”

“I see. I presented myself as a skeptic so you appealed to rationality instead of attempting to convince me of something others would consider a fantasy. Sounds like you already know how to target your audience and adjust accordingly,” said Ezra. He hardly reacted to Anya’s assertion that she was using magic, but it was clear that he seemed aware of its existence. He was handling everything too calmly for his reaction to mean anything else. “Well, I am dreaming, and you are manipulating it, so I suppose it was unfair of me to accuse you of being a charlatan. I apologize for that.”

“But anyway, if you’re offering something stronger without the hangover then I’ll take a scotch,” said Ezra, watching for the flick of the pen and the shifting of the drink tray before pouring both himself and Anya a finger of scotch. He handed Anya the glass and sat back in his seat, swirling the brown liquid but refusing to take a drink.

“You’re an oddity. A curiosity. I’d be lying if I said you weren’t the first person who tried to sell me with magic, but you are the first person to drop the smoke and mirrors once I wised up to the act without having to be asked which means you’re smart and not here to waste my time. Your shit works and you’ve found a way to make it appeal to both the whackos who speak with trees and waste their salary on rocks and the regular, everyday people with their mediocre careers and boring children.”

“But is this it? Adjusting the world of the dream and imagining up a drink?” asked Ezra, finally taking a sip of his scotch. His eyes lit up and he took another sip. “...Up a damn fine drink. Macallan 18? Good pick, really good pick. But I digress. One day you’d be able to get the box to do all of this on its own, but right now it’s all you. Typical corporate bullshit would be to say something like ‘I’m not investing in a business, I’m investing in you’, but that actually feels like it is the case this time. So…”

“What else can you do when you’re in here?”

Anya raised her own glass to her lips, carefully taking a sip in a way that would preserve her soft brown lipstick. ”You're correct. The business is nothing without me - no one else can manipulate dreams like me, and certainly can't do that and infuse the same power into an object. I'm confident enough in my magic to have no reason to hide it. It's been honed for many years, and is what my whole business was built around. It only remains hidden because the world of magic isn't one the mundane are privy to.”

”Manipulating dreams is only one aspect of my abilities - and while it can certainly be more impressive than a slight shift in scenery and drink creation, it isn't everything. For a start, I'm physically in this dream.” Anya took another sip of the drink, her smile widening. ”There are a few benefits to this. One, I can directly interact with it. Two, I can directly interact with you- or any other person's dream I'm in. I don't mean like we are right now. If I was to, say, create a knife and then cut you with it, you would expect to wake up without a wound, correct? It takes a certain spell and effort, but it's possible. Beyond this, I can even allow the dream itself to hurt whoever's in it. Quite useful, if not so marketable.”

“Perhaps not to the mainstream, anyway,” offered Ezra with a smirk.

She finished the Scotch in her glass and put it down, while placing her fountain pen on the table beside it. Closer to her than him, but no longer in her hands. ”I won't demonstrate, unless you're desperate for proof. Along with this, and perhaps more interestingly, I can weave subliminal messages into dreams. Perhaps suggestion is more of an apt word. These suggestions are then followed upon waking up. It can be as simple as making them return to my shop or making them wake up feeling more content. With enough time, I can create more intricate suggestions. It's a direct, but subtle and traceless, manipulation of the person whose dream I'm in.”

Ezra finished his own drink and moved to refill both of their glasses. His mind was churning, coming up with all the possibilities someone like her was capable of performing. His entire life he had been surrounded by mediocrity—from siblings who did nothing but disappoint to business partners who could barely stand on their own two feet or even inventions that over-promised and under-delivered. He had spent years cultivating a reputation for himself of carrying on his father’s legacy by pulling the downtrodden out of the muck and giving chances to businesses and people that others turned a blind eye towards. They said everything he touched turned to gold.

And it did.

Only, unlike his father he didn’t do it because of some magnanimity. He didn’t do it because he cared about the local economy or doing the right thing or helping out his fellow man or jerking off his own ego. Ezra only invested in startups and struggling businesses because he couldn’t stand seeing the sight of silver when he knew it could be gold. He had no time for incompetence, and by finding a way to eradicate such a headache it had made the rich man even richer. However, as Anya spoke of the things she could do, of the subtle manipulations or the cerebral assassinations, she had taken on a sort of shine. In a world where some people were bronze or silver but a vast majority of the population were plastic mass produced participation trophies, Anya was 24 karat.

But even that could be polished to a perfection, and that was where someone like Ezra would come in.

“Well, I do hope for the sake of our future business endeavors that you trust in your ability to convince me through conversation instead of manipulation. Being open and honest with your partner is the best way to be successful, be it in business or otherwise. Then again, if what you say is true, how would I ever know?” suggested Ezra with a shrug. It didn’t really matter as long as money was being made, although he made a note to return the dream box the next time they met in the physical world. “All of this has been rather intriguing. It seems I’d be an idiot not to do business with you. Really, from where I’m sitting I only see one problem…”

Ezra took a sip of his scotch and huffed, shaking his head in mild disappointment.

“I don’t do small term investments. Sorry, the box wasn’t the only thing I checked out,” said Ezra. He had made a few phone calls after disassembling and rebuilding the dream box. It was amazing the kind of information one could find out about a person when their resources were essentially unlimited. “Now. Why would a person want someone like you dead?”

”Unfortunately, I don't have a definitive answer to that.”

Anya was clearly unbothered by Ezra digging up information about her. She wasn't surprised about it. She wasn't all that worried, either. Her main 'secret' was the magical foundation of her business, and that had already been discovered. She was, however, surprised he was able to get information about their current killer. If he could get that information, it was likely he could find out about almost anything. It would be best to be honest, as he'd suggested, from here. Of course honesty was just another tool for her. Getting caught in a lie would be much more detrimental when she'd already convinced him of her brilliance. If the only remaining concern was her would be killer, this should be easy. She didn't plan to die. She had clearly already won him over, she just needed to convince him that she wasn't going to drop dead within months.

”I don't know how much information you uncovered about me, so I apologise if you know this already. Ten years ago I was part of a group- a coven- that fought and defeated the Stygian Snake, which caused the disaster in the city. There were at least a hundred of us, with an unfortunate lack of criteria over who could join. Even one of your sisters was involved."

Anya watched him carefully as she dropped this piece of information. Ezra’s eyes scrunched ever so slightly at the mention of one of his sisters. He was able to resist the urge to correct Anya: he didn’t have any sisters, only half-sisters. He began putting together a timeline in his head of who the culprit might be but then pushed it to the side, setting it atop a mental to-do list that towered and wobbled. Anya continued, "Now, after ten years, someone is killing the remaining members. The only definite reason is my part in the coven. We can form conjectures, such as it being a leftover follower of the Stygian Snake or a bitter ex-covenmate, but not conclusions.”

”I'm doing everything I can to ensure my survival, however it's rather difficult when surrounded by incompetence. The coven has reformed to deal with the problem, yet all they do is bicker and cause more issues. The few of us who try to be the voice of reason are already disliked by the less intelligent majority. All that has been suggested is an impractical 'buddy system'. Then, there's the government agent. The PRA- I'm sure you've heard of them.” Anya was unable to school her expression when she mentioned them, grimacing. She finally reached for her refilled glass and took another sip. She needed it just to mention them. But if this worked out, she wouldn't have to talk to them ever again. ”Not only are they incompetent, but they actively abuse their power. They pushed us onto a trainee agent, who doesn’t appear to have a brain, rather than offering proper aid to catch a murderer who killed one of their own.”

She smiled at Ezra over her glass, taking another sip. ”This may sound like complaining, but it is to ensure you have the full picture, in the spirit of being open and honest. There is one key conclusion that can be drawn from the information I have so far. Everyone killed was alone. I'm safe when with someone else, doubly so when it's not a coven member, and when I'm in a dream. Unfortunately I can only rely on fellow coven members for the former - with the only two I can really rely on being just as busy as I am. There is an easy solution. Money can buy many forms of protection, after all.”

“And without it you’re as good as dead. It is the unfortunate reality of this country,” said Ezra, seemingly undisturbed by the idea. Another unfortunate reality was that money left a paper trail. There was always a certain, often manageable risk when getting involved in business with someone, but when that someone was potentially going to show up dead on the eleven o’clock news that risk suddenly became a different kind of migraine. A partnership with her had appealing potential, but Ezra wore too nice of shoes to step from the paved path before him and go traipsing through the woods.

Still…

He smirked and shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You know, I just realized something. You saved this city from disaster, but my family swooped in, gave away less than a percent of a percent, and claimed all of the praise, admiration, and benefits that come from being a quote-unquote hero.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, remembering the teary-eye speech given by the then Mayor of St. Portwell about his father, even though all his dad had done was sign the check. Ezra had dealt with all the annoying frustrations that always turned up when working with the public. Ezra had actively lost brain cells by hosting charity dinners with his half-sister and schmoozing with wealthy pricks. Ezra had to live with the fact that every time he drove past James Vanburen Blvd he had to fight the urge to roll down his window and scream at nobody that they had put the wrong first name on the sign. Still, when he had returned to St. Portwell every door still opened up for him as if Ezra had inherited the key to the city from James when he had passed.

“As tempting as it is, I can’t invest in your business,” said Ezra. It was simple, cold logic. The risk was obviously too high. If Anya died there wasn’t any way to proceed forward with the product; she was the good. He took a sip from his scotch, letting the bad news fester as it lingered in the air. He stood up as if the conversation was over.

And then, “But—”

“But my family does owe you. I can’t give you the money for your business right now. With what’s going on in your world it would simply be an awful idea. However, what I can offer is the opportunity to put yourself into a position where your dream can one day be realized. Money can buy many forms of protection, but magic is the only way to get the best kind. I’ll assign a security team to monitor and protect you. Unless someone threatens your life you won’t even realize they’re there. In turn, all I ask is that while under my protection you don’t sign any contracts with other investors without consulting me first. Once your future has become less mercurial we can get into the nitty gritty, put together a proper contract, and focus fully on expanding your business into an empire.”

“In the meantime, I could use some assistance with finding a way of suggesting to a few bullheaded peers of mine to pull their heads out of their asses. Consider it a trial run for our future partnership. Obviously, you would be greatly compensated for your time. Some of them are quite unbearable,” said Ezra, grimacing before his face softened into a sly smile as he extended a hand down to Anya. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

Anya raised an eyebrow when Ezra said he couldn't invest in her business, but otherwise showed no external negative reaction. Her smile didn't even waver. It was a disappointment, but an understandable decision. Anya was someone who worked off logic herself, and investing in a business that would crumble under a single man's knife wasn't a logical decision. Unfortunate, but understandable. It didn't ruin her plans. She reached out to pick up her fountain pen as Ezra stood, just holding it in one hand. As a sign of no hard feelings, she would at least offer to adjust the dream to-

Oh. Anya's smile widened and turned more genuine, eyes warming a tad with it. It was a very good offer. She was patient, and her current plans didn't involve looking for other investors until she could infuse objects with a stronger form of dream manipulation. Talking to Ezra had been a chance she'd taken because an investment from someone so successful wasn't something she could let slip away. But it turned out to be very beneficial. Her largest problem right now was the threat of death looming over her head. A personal, magical security team would greatly reduce that risk.

”Those are terms that I can easily agree to. A hidden security team will take care of my most pressing concern, so I don't have to consider sidelining my own business and magical development in favour of ensuring my safety. By the time it's safe enough to invest, I'm confident it will- I will- be even more worth it.” Anya shook his hand with a smile of her own, hints of smugness in its depths. ”We have a deal.”

She stood, smoothing out imperceptible creases in her loose trousers. Rolling her fountain pen between her fingers, she took a moment to properly consider the assistance he'd requested now that she'd agreed to it. Temporarily dealing with unbearable people was a small price to pay for no longer needing to deal with the most unbearable person she'd ever met. ”You will need to introduce me to those peers of yours in the real world before I can enter their dreams. An unfortunate limitation, but thankfully one meeting will be enough to gain me unlimited access. Knowing if they have magic or not before I enter their dreams will aid me in avoiding a... situation like this. Otherwise, it's something I can easily assist with.”

“The necessary precautions will be taken to make sure you aren’t caught with your hand in the cookie jar again. Otherwise, I can’t imagine that getting you in the door will be a problem at all,” said Ezra with a nod. “ In the morning I’ll make arrangements with the security team. After that I’ll have my secretary contact you the next time I am scheduled to meet with one of these peers so we can introduce you.”

“Until then, I don’t see why I should keep you around here for the rest of the night. Thank you, Anya. This has been the most productive night of sleep I’ve ever had,” he said. Ezra grabbed the bottle of scotch, poured himself a nearly full glass, and flopped down in his seat. He paused right before he took a sip and added, “Out of curiosity, which of my half-sisters was in your coven?”

Anya smiled, before she dropped the bombshell. ”Ah, unfortunately, it was Patricia."

Abruptly, Ezra Vanburen vanished from his chair and the dream world collapsed. Elsewhere, in a penthouse apartment in the heart of St. Portwell a man shot up in bed, heart racing, chest heaving. He wiped sweat away from his forehead and fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, bright light piercing through the darkness of the room. Well that might’ve been the worst news he had ever heard. The woman laying beside him groaned and shifted in the sheets as Ezra pulled himself out of bed.

“What’s wrong?” she said, barely awake. “You have a nightmare?”

“Yeah I guess you could say that,” said Ezra, tightening a silk robe around his waist. He stared at the black box on his nightstand. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got to make some calls.”

---

Interactions: Auri (& Trevor via blocking) @Punished GN, Everyone Present
Kari Wilson’s House

---

Another night, another dream that wasn’t her own to end it. When Anya woke up she made sure to write down every detail of it. Not because she was worried about forgetting it, but rather than she might mix it up with her own mundane dreams or the ones she visited. Unlikely, but possible.

Aside from the dream and all of its implications, which she’d discuss with Sloane and possibly Jack when she got a chance, Anya was relatively relaxed going into the meeting. It was like there was a weight off her shoulders. There was one thing she didn’t have to worry about again. Something that was draining her, and even pushing her dreams towards nightmares. It was finally sorted.

She’d blocked Trevor.

Thanks to her agreement with Ezra, she had no need for the security (or lack of it) that the PRA provided. There was no reason to suffer through Trevor again. She trusted Ezra’s business sense and that his resources would keep her alive. She was valuable, after all. If Sloane or Jack asked why she’d cut off the contact, she’d just say she couldn’t handle it anymore. Hopefully Trevor would get the hint and not get a new number to contact her on.

Anya arrived just as Auri shared Lyss' death with the group. Unfortunate but not unexpected. The most unfortunate part was how useful her abstraction would be in the current situation. Was Father Wolf killing them in a specific order to prevent them from finding out who he was?

Shaking her head, Anya made her way towards Sloane - who Anya could find no matter how much she tried to blend in with the equally expressionless wood - and the front door of the house. She wasn't sure what Sloane was doing, but it likely wasn't anything stupid… unlike these other morons that formed the coven. A subtle way to get in, perhaps. She would leave her to do it in peace. Anya's gaze shifted to the other members as she turned on the stairs leading up the house, leaning against the bannister.

Three of the four jock squad members had gathered, and Drake had even brought roses. Was he already moving on? With someone here? When he hadn't apologised to Sloane yet? Disgraceful. Luca and his trio of friends were still alive, it seemed, after the part during the Halloween festival. Linqian just had to be the loudest person around, and Anya honestly couldn't care less if she was going to beat someone up as long as it wasn't in their presence.

Though, the person in question turned it into some kind of strange friendship ritual. Aryin. That was someone Anya hadn't expected to come back. There were a few new faces.

Ken was a pleasant surprise. One of the few sensible and useful members of the coven remaining. Perhaps it would help balance things out a little. Unlikely, but possible. Amara… well, it could go either way with her.

Anya just observed, rather than contributing. She no longer felt she had as much skin in the game - after all, she was no longer as much at risk. The only reason she was still attending was to get rid of the threat so she could get that promised investment, and because not coming would be quite difficult to explain to Sloane. She wasn't quite willing to ruin that friendship over a small effort on her part.

But she was already deciding what to say when everyone else quietened down. There were questions to ask Auri, to undermine her leadership. An opinion on the lack of respect in breaking and entering to be aired-

BANG!

Anya flinched, spinning around on her heel to stare at Sloane and the now open door. A delicate hand raised to her forehead while the other let go its vice grip of her channeller. It was an efficient way to get inside, but certainly not a subtle one when Ken had already offered to find the spare key. What was another few minutes? Anya forcefully held back her thoughts and the disapproval she wanted to share. If she and Sloane didn't show a united front, it would be all too easy for the rest of the coven to pick them apart. While Anya didn’t care for their opinions at all, it was irritating to deal with. She just wished Sloane had stopped to think for a moment about the consequences of breaking into a dead coven member's house, in front of people who had clearly cared for her.

Ah well. She would run damage control again.

”I suppose we should get started,” Anya smiled, following close behind Sloane and stepping into the door. However she paused on the threshold, facing the group below. ”I'm sure you all agree we have no time to waste after losing another member. Lyss would want us to use her lead to find her murderer and stop more tragic deaths. Every second we waste is a second Father Wolf is using against us. And these deaths are taking quite the toll on us all.”

Anya's smile grew somewhat sad, and she glanced over her back at Sloane. The implication was clear - Sloane was acting the way she was because she wanted to keep everyone alive, and was upset about losing someone else. She continued to talk as if she was just making suggestions, rather than subtly undermining Auri’s authority. ”We should split into smaller groups to look around, it will be much more efficient that way. What exactly are we looking for, Auri. Any ideas? Perhaps a handy, ordered list of all of Father Wolf’s victims?”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

Andre Makoumbou

Mentions: Henri Han
November 2nd, 11:35am.
Linqian’s House

---

A loud ringing cut through the sound of water splashing in the sink, washing off the remnant bubbles on a pan. Linqian glanced at the clock on the wall with a frown. Ah. It was that time already.

Another piercing ring drilled into Linqian’s head. She scowled, and leaned back to yell, "yeah, yeah, I’m coming, calm down a fucking minute!"

Quickly finishing off the washing, she put the pan to dry at the side.

After the halloween festival, talking to Sloane and then nearly dying, she’d asked Andre to come round. She had stuff she needed to discuss with him… Not that she wanted to, but she had to. He was the only person she could trust with this.

Sighing, Linqian opened the door to let him in.

“Linqian, you brat,” Andre cuffed her over the head immediately, before pushing past her and into the house. “Invite me round then leave me waiting outside. You can’t even use getting dressed as an excuse.”

He hit Linqian with a discerning stare, and she just rolled her eyes. She was in her home clothes - an oversized blue hoodie and black leggings. She wore a pair of thin frame, square glasses. Normally she'd dress up for anyone coming round, at minimum putting in her contacts, but Andre had known her since she was a kid. There was no need to bother for him. He’d seen her when she was a little nightmare traipsing mud all through her parents’ kitchen.

"Hello to you too. I was cleaning up," she said, ushering him into the kitchen. "You know how much of a mess teen boys make."

“I do,” Andre snorted with a half smile. He looked around the otherwise empty kitchen. "Speaking of, where's Henri?"

"Out with some friends he met at the festival, I think. He was a little vague about it... Saved me having to kick him out for an hour."

"Ay, annoying kid wouldn't shut up if he was around," Andre laughed. Linqian smiled slightly at that.

"Have a seat and help yourself," Linqian gestured to the small table. There was a selection of fruit, and a bowl of mikate - Congolese beignets - with a little jar of peanut butter beside them.

"Just what do you want to talk about that you're tryna butter me up with food?" Andre looked at all the snacks with suspicion, then back at her with a raised eyebrow. After a moment of silence he sat down and helped herself.

Linqian stayed standing, busying herself with getting them both a glass of water and making coffee. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn't want to have this talk. It felt vulnerable, and she hated that. But she had to. Just think about the practical side to it.

Eventually, she sat down opposite him, putting down a mug in front of them both.

"So, what is it?" Andre asked gruffly. His expression was more serious than normal, but Linqian had known him long enough to read the concern in his eyes. It just made her more uncomfortable.

"It's about future plans, and Henri." Linqian frowned, fingers finding the wedding rings and beginning to fiddle with them. It was about Henri, but it was also more than that. How did she even begin to explain everything to him? About how there was a very real risk of her dying, and that she wanted something in place for her little brother yet was too stubborn to accept help for them while she was still alive? Fuck. She hated this. "You remember the coven I joined with Jinhai, after our parents died?"

"I do. Sycamore Tree, was it?"

"Yeah, that." Linqian sighed, agitatedly shifting in the uncomfortable seat. The cold bands of metal underneath her fingers was a small comfort in all of this, but the feeling of two just reminded her of everything she'd lost. First it had been a memento of her parents shared with Jinhai, now it was a shared memento of him and them. "There's something- someone- killing us all. It's... He's what- fuck- murdered Jinhai. He got a lot of us. He could get me next."

Andre frowned, brow furrowing. "You're in danger too? Why didn't you tell me before? I could help."

"I'm not looking for help with the killer," Linqian shook her head. "I just want to make sure Henri will be alright if I die. I don't have anyone else to ask."

"You know you can always ask me for anything."

Linqian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I need plans in place for if I die and I know that you'll look after Henri... That's all that matters."

"Of course, but..." Andre narrowed his eyes at her. It was a discerning look he used when he thought someone was lying to him, trying to dig deeper. She'd never broken under it, but she'd watched it work on his sons. Now she felt him trying to pick his way deeper, worry clear behind his searching gaze. "I can't just move past the risk of you dying. You doing anything about it?"

”The coven's back together and we're trying to figure it out.”

"Any progress?"

”No.”

"Then I can't just let it go. You can't be so relaxed about this, Linqian. Your life is at risk. Don't pretend it's nothing, I won't let you. We're going to talk about it."

”There's nothing to talk about, Andre. I understand the danger, I'm not fucking stupid. ”

"Do you really? Or are you just pretending you have everything under control?"

"Look, Andre," Linqian looked away so he wouldn't see the despair in her eyes. It was so deep rooted now, hopelessness filling her every waking hour. She'd lost everything but her younger brother. Without him she wouldn't even be able to continue. She'd accepted that she had no future. She sacrificed it ten years ago to keep her family afloat, with the hope that Jinhai would do the same for her later on down the line. That hope had died with him. Nothing would give that back to her. No amount of money, or revenge would give it back- give him back to her. "I only care about Henri's future. He's the only reason I can keep going. So no, I don't have it under fucking control, but if I die, I die. I don't want him to go through that. I'll do everything so he doesn't have to. But I won't pretend to care beyond him. It's just how it is. It's all for him."

She spoke bluntly, as if she wasn't speaking about her own hypothetical death. For her, the fear of it came from only one thing - the fear of leaving Henri alone in a cruel world he wasn't prepared for. It made her feel very little beyond that. Perhaps death would be a relief. What was there to her life beyond work and stress? The small moments of joy, perhaps, but they were few and far between.

She wanted to be able to live for herself - to move on and meet someone, to start her own family. But was that really possible? Who would be able to tolerate her and all her baggage? Would she even be a good mother? And even if she was able to do that, there'd still be that gaping hole in her life where Jinhai should be.

Sloane's words, and the near death experience with Vashti (whose hands she would honestly, gladly die under), had shown her that she needed a plan in place for him. To make sure he would be taken care of if- no, when- she died.

"Alright." Andre gave her a scrutinising look, but she'd already returned to her normal neutrally grumpy expression. She could see concern written clearly across his face, but thankfully he knew that pressing her would just cause her to shut him out completely. It saved her the hassle of doing that. She'd already said more about herself and how she was feeling than she wanted to. "What do you need me to do?"

"Look after Henri if I die. Help him sell the house and all of my things so that he has some money to survive in. Help him find somewhere else to stay, or let him move in with you for a while. Be there for him when he's grieving. Be the uncle he sees you have, because he won't have anyone else."

And that was what pained her most about her possible death, and why she kept on going through the hopeless slog that was her life. She wanted to give him a future, and just seeing his smile was enough to make it all worth it. She didn't want him to go through the pain of losing someone else when he'd already lost everyone but her.

It was why she’d try to survive, to the best of her abilities. But there was only so much she could do.

"He'll need a lot of support for a long time. I want him to live a good life and to be happy even without me... I've been working this hard so he doesn't have to. If you could support him in finishing his degree as well I'd appreciate it. I've been trying to put money aside for it but..." Linqian frowned. She didn't like talking about her money situation with anyone outside of Jinhai. Some people in the coven had already found out, but that was barely scratching the surface. A job that barely covered the bills, her brother's private student loans for two degrees, credit card debt that she could barely keep up with the interest of and… the loans she’d taken out for someone she still couldn’t think about without struggling to breath. The inheritance she'd leave him would be worse than nothing. "There's a lot of debt. I'm trying my best to pay them off, but it's difficult. Any money I put aside for him will probably be used to pay them off if I die before I pay them off... I might be able to with my other job, but I don't know. It's unreliable. I'll try my hardest so its not a burden on him."

In a short period of time Linqian had earned more from Edict than she normally did in a month of work. But it wasn't stable. Money came with useful information only, and she wasn't naive enough to truly believe Edict would keep her around once she stopped providing that. She'd try her best to make herself invaluable until at least her debts were paid, through any means, but she couldn't rely on it.

"I might try get another job to help with everything. We’ll see." Linqian shrugged. "I just need to know that someone will look after Henri when I'm gone. I don't want him to end up like me, I want him to have a good life even if I'm not there to provide it. I need him to have someone who will be there for him. Can you do that?"

“Of course I can,” Andre nodded, tone gruff. He was trying to hold back his emotions, she could tell. Succeeding, just like she always did, with just a slight crack. "You're both like family to me. If it happens, I'll look after him. I can also see if anyone I know is hiring. Maybe a job more suited to your skills, in a kitchen. There might be someone else who’ll pay you better. I would if I could."

"It's fine," Linqian shrugged. "I was able to move back so easily because of this job. But any help with finding another… would be appreciated."

“I’ll try. There’s other ways I can help, too, right now. I can help a bit with the debts, or if you want to sell the house.”

Linqian gritted her teeth, shaking her head. She just couldn’t accept help like that. She’d taken Sloane’s offer for Jinhai’s funeral, but she accept money from people for anything else. It wouldn’t be right (it would make her a failure). "I'm not accepting anything unless you’re paying me."

“Fine,” Andre sighed. “I heard you're gonna pay for Henri to see a shrink. He seemed to be really considering it. Let me pay for that. Don’t protest, it’s for him, you can at least accept that.”

Linqian had opened her mouth to say no, closing it again with a frown. Then she nodded.

"You should see a therapist too, if you can,” Andre continued. “I can recommend one-"

"I'm not seeing a cult therapist."

"I wasn't going to recommend one from the temple," Andre chuckled. "She's unaffiliated with any group, and knows about the paranormal. "

"I'll think about it," Linqian lied. She wouldn't even consider it. She didn't have the time or money, nor did she want to talk to someone about all the issues she'd buried inside. A therapist couldn't bring Jinhai back. They’d just take more money that she didn’t have for issues that couldn’t be solved.

Silence fell between them. Linqian had said everything she needed to say. Andre had agreed to look after Henri if she died, and in the process of getting that agreement she’d let slip a lot more than she’d planned to.

"You know I'm here for you, Linqian." Andre broke the silence. He shook his head, rueful smile playing on his lips. "Not as your boss, but as your mom's friend. You don't have to see me as an uncle like Henri, but just remember you can rely on me. You and Jinhai were always too independent for your own good. Marie always worried about it, but I promised her I'd watch out for you all. So if there's anything you need, just tell me."

”Mom liked that we were independent,” Linqian laughed lightly, trying to ignore the stab of pain it caused her. Of course she knew her mom had worried about them. She was always busy when they were children, both her and their dad, but she made time for them. Linqian hadn’t appreciated it then. Then, she died before she truly could. It’s only when you lose something that you realise it's worth… “I know. I’m already relying on you. This is for me, not just Henri.”

She knew it wasn’t what Andre meant. That he wanted her to go to him for the things that affected only her, the problems she sheltered her brother from. But her independence was more than something she’d grown up with - it was a survival mechanism to keep her family afloat. The last time she’d truly relied on someone, she’d nearly lost everything. She was still carrying the scars, even if none showed on her body.

Andre wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t as simple as knowing that.

“Fine. You know where to find me, anyway.” Andre stood up, thankfully realising the conversation was over before Linqian had to awkwardly suggest he leave. “Anything else? Want a lift to work?”

”Hours before I need to be in? I’m good,” Linqian rolled her eyes, standing up and rolling her tense shoulders. They felt slightly lighter after the talk. One, tiny rock had been pushed off. It was a start.

There wasn’t anything said between them as she walked with him to the door, simple goodbyes since she’d see him later anyway. Then he was gone.

The door closed behind him, and Linqian was left alone in a painfully quiet house. It hadn't been so noticeable the last week, with Henri making a major effort to fill up the empty space everyone left behind by being incredibly loud and annoying. That only made the silence more palatable now. She'd grown used to someone being around again.

Though Henri alone would never replace what they'd both lost.

Fingers once again finding the wedding bands, Linqian found herself drifting towards the living room. The sofa was covered in blankets and clothes Henri had left everywhere, dirty mugs and plates on the coffee table in front of it. She ignored the mess and moved towards the corner of the room. Numbly, she knelt down on the floor.

---

River, Soen

---

In front of her was a small shrine she'd set up on a cupboard. Nothing fancy, just somewhere she could sit when she wanted to... Remember. They’d had one at their apartment too. At the centre was a family picture. Her parents stood in the centre with a six year old Henri in front of them, wide grin on his lips, and fourteen year old versions of her and Jinhai at each side. To the left of it were pictures of her parents - a faded picture of them on their wedding day, a photo just a few months before they died, individual pictures. Her and Jinhai had found them over the years as they went through old photo albums and belongings. The right side was slightly more sparse. There was a picture of Jinhai during his graduation, looking especially handsome. Another that Linqian had taken of him during the last Lunar New Year, when he'd tried to help her make dumplings. He'd been awful at it and ended up with flour all over his hands and face. She snapped a shot of him laughing, flour coating his nose and cheeks. Before it had been something to tease him with, now it was nothing more than a memory of how good things had been.

Linqian sighed softly, and lit an incense stick. A soft, wooden smell with hints of spices filled the space as it started to burn. She wrinkled her nose.

”I'm going to be able to hold a funeral for you soon,” she started, speaking softly. She spoke in English rather than Chinese, as if that would detach her from the situation - make it as if she wasn't talking to the only person she could ever share everything with, who was no longer there. But as soon as the words came out she wanted to take them back. This was the first time she'd talked to Jinhai since he passed and it... Didn't seem right. She did it occasionally to her parents, but they'd been gone for years. And it had taken years to get to that point.

Yet she was already able to talk to the Jinhai that wasn't there anymore. Had she accepted it already and started to move on? No. Maybe it was because she hadn't accepted it, and hoped he'd respond.

Linqian shook her head.

”I've met with everyone again to try and find the fucker that killed you. If you were here you'd be so pissed at me.” If he was there, she wouldn't be back in this fucking city. ”I'm working for Greyson now. Don't really have a choice. You didn't exactly leave me much and the debts are going away. He’s not so bad. Legit business now. You’d still hate him, but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nobody's really changed. Drake's still reckless enough to punch Sloane, Sloane's still a stuck up bitch- Well. She is paying for your funeral. I suppose I have to give her some credit. It’s something. More than I could do.”

Sometimes, she just wanted to give up. To go somewhere alone and wait for Father Wolf to get her too. But she couldn’t. She had to keep suffering through the coven members she disliked, so that Jinhai would at least be avenged.

”I fought with Evelynn. She said- fuck, I can’t repeat it. It was horrible. Fuck, what I said wasn’t great, but I was pissed and coming down off a Greyson high- yeah, I know, bad fucking decision. I can hear you judging from beyond. But fuck… she went too far. Fucking bitch. I should’ve slapped her again. I will when I see her again. ”

Linqian laughed, a joyless sound. ”But you know, it's not the same without you there. I keep waiting for you to hold me back, or argue with me because I'm hanging out with someone you don't like. You never do. It's fucking weird. The same but really not the same. We haven't made any progress, either, cause everyone keeps fighting. I'm part of the problem, I know, but fuck... it's so hard to hold myself back without you. I just feel so angry all the time. More than before. Like I’m constantly at my breaking point.”

She sighed, glancing over at the picture of Jinhai when he graduated. All she could see was how he'd looked when he died. His lifeless eyes, staring vacantly at the sofa he'd convinced her to get, lips slightly parted in a dying cry. Blood all over his crisp white shirt, staining his limp hands where they tried to staunch the flow. The pained expression that hadn't quite disappeared. The more she looked at the picture the clearer the memory got.

Linqian forcefully tore her gaze away, eyes fluttering closed as she took a deep breath.

”I wish it had been me,” Linqian whispered, forcefully holding back the tears threatening to fall. She knew that if she started she wouldn't stop and she didn't have time for that. ”It should have been. Nobody would miss me like this. I can tell they all think so too...”

She bit her lip, looking up to the ceiling as her eyes heated up. A single tear spilled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, pressing her hands against her eyes before more could escape. A few deep breaths, and she was able to stop herself from crying.

”You would have handled everything so much better. I don't know what to do. I can barely keep us housed, and I don't know how to comfort Yi-er. I'm so tired. I wish I could just stop, but I can't. I don’t have time to stop. But it'll be fine, don't worry. I'll make sure Yi-er's able to make it on his own and then look after myself. I'm even trying to quit smoking! Uh, yeah, I know I'd cut down a lot before, but it's been a lot. I don't need you judging from the grave. It's your fault that I'm even like this, so save it.”

Linqian’s lips curved up into a weak smile, clouded eyes moving back to the pictures of her brother as he’d been in life. Bright, vivid, unfairly smart. He’d had so much ahead of him. So much potential. He deserved so much more. She- she didn’t deserve it nearly as much.

”I-” I miss you. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. That made it feel too real. Just talking to him, she could pretend he was talking back. But not for that. ”I'll talk to you again later. Work calls.”

She reached over, lowering just the temperature of her fingers and covering the burning tip of the incense stick. The sharp sting barely helped her ignore the heaviness in her heart.

It would be fine. Even if it wasn’t, she had no choice but to be fine.

---

---

Interactions: Britney @Punished GN, Ken @AtomicEmperor, Aryin @NoriWasHere
November 3rd.
Kari Wilson’s House

---

Linqian was in a bad fucking mood today.

She had a horrible dream that woke her up hours before she needed to be awake. Then, there was a fucking meeting, so she had to switch her work shifts - thankfully Andre was a lot more willing to work that out for her since their talk yesterday. It was a little better if she thought of this as work too… But Henri had been acting weird that morning too. He asked to talk tomorrow, and wouldn’t spit out whatever was bothering him no matter how much she prodded. So now she was fucking worried about him too.

So she’d driven to the meeting location via a shop, picking up another packet of cigarettes because she needed something to get through this. She smoked one on the rest of the drive, and immediately pulled out another when she found somewhere to park. There was no need to rush… After all, they’d fucked around so long during the last few meetings. She wasn’t enough of a dick to smoke around non-smokers, so she was doing it before she got there.

Cigarette in one hand, she reached behind her back to double check the pistol she’d brought along. It was the same one Edict had give her a few days ago, and she figured she might need it. She’d picked up a belt holster for it, placed at the right back hand side of her waist. Her clothes were picked to work with it - waist high black shorts with a dark belt around them, holster placed at the back. The black, high necked sleeveless top she wore was tucked in at the front but left loose at the back to help cover the gun. Over it all was her usual fleece jacket, left open at the front but long enough at the back to cover everything (slightly longer than her shorts). Her long legs were exposed to the cool air, but she wasn’t particularly bothered. It was easy to warm herself back up if she needed to.

The walk was a bit longer than she’d wanted, enough that she totally could’ve had another cigarette, but being outside was nice. Maybe. It gave Linqian time to sort through her thoughts a bit before having to deal with the group. She turned up just a bit before Auri started talking, spotting Britney and immediately making her way towards her.

”Hey,” Linqian said quietly, squatting down beside her rather than trying to squeeze on the rock, not particularly paying attention to whoever else turned up. She just didn’t have the energy. It was hard enough to keep up with what Auri was saying.

The dead Kari wasn’t their Kari… So like a Kari from a different dimension? That shit had been beyond Linqian ten years ago, and was just as beyond her now. She’d let Jinhai understand it and fill her in on the important shit, and ignored it otherwise. But he’s not here to help anymore. Without him, she had nothing to contribute to the conversation.

"... Lyss was murdered by Father Wolf during the Halloween Festival."

Auri

Shit. Linqian covered her eyes, feeling almost nothing at all. Just an empty numbness that came along with the grief she was already feeling. Lyss had been someone Linqian was alright with, an almost friend, now another victim. Another death added to a list she hadn’t even started to process. So she did what she’d been doing best and embraced the lack of feeling, pushing it deep down.

A voice she recognised easily, but hadn’t heard in years, broke the silence that had fallen over everyone. Linqian’s head snapped up, sharp eyes finding Aryin. Linqian’s expression worsened, mind flashing back to two days ago… When she’d opened the selfie Aryin sent after being thrown across half the city by George. A selfie and message Linqian had replied to.

Then been left on read.

She was momentarily distracted by Ken jumping off the roof, dressed like he’d stepped right back out of ancient Japan- of course. Linqian hadn’t seen him in a long time and while they hadn’t been super tight, they were friendly enough. Along with Jinhai, she’d helped him get over those culture differences all those years ago - somewhat similar to what she’d been through herself six years prior. Jinhai had kept in touch with him, and Linqian somewhat through him.

”Nice outfit, Ken,” Linqian teased lightheartedly, standing up. She stretched out her arms, crossing one over her chest while hooking the other over it, as if getting ready for a fight. ”I really hope chainmail is effective against guns, cause that’s what we keep coming up against.”

With him offering to find the key, whatever method he had for that, there was no need to worry about getting in. That meant Linqian could focus on more important things. Namely, the bone she had to pick.

”Oy, asshole!” Linqian gestured to Aryin, beginning to walk towards her. Her expression was difficult to read - signature scowl on soft pink lips, eyes narrowed in possible anger, but not as explosive as normal. But she was still approaching Aryin with clearly violent intent. ”Who do you think you are, showing you’re fucking face here like its nothing? You send me that fucking picture, show me your whole ass chest - which looked fucking amazing, by the way - then leave me on fucking read for two days? Then you show up here like its fucking nothing, you fucking bitch, I swear to fuck, you. Have not. Fucking. Changed. You fucking hoe.”

Linqian had closed the gap between them now, concentrating on increasing the temperature of just one until it was as hot as boiling water. Then she shot out her right fist, visibly glowing orange strong punch going straight for Aryin’s right breast.

That’ll fucking show her.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

& Bianca Manalo

Interactions: Sloane @Atrophy, Trevor @Punished GN, Jack @Blizz
The Bar that Ruins Hopes and Dreams, The Halloween Festival

---

"Maybe your friend has had enough to drink!"

Trevor

”I agree. That’s enough for you, Sloane,” Anya smiled, taking the pineapple margarita and finishing it so Sloane couldn’t drink anymore.

Thankfully, being stuck in Trevor’s awful company had its benefits. Namely his loose lips. Anya nodded along as he talked, taking it all in and easily remembering the important information shared. Sadly, she had spent more than five minutes with Emily. She’d also sadly spent more than five minutes with Trevor… Ah, she would probably pick him over her. Just about.

Before she had a chance to press for more, Jack appeared in exactly the way he shouldn’t have. She’d asked him to come and get them, yes, but not to appear like some kind of creature from the shadows. Inane as he was, Trevor was still a federal agent.

A hand flew up to Anya’s lips to stifle laughter at Trevor’s scream and fall, which quickly turned into slack jawed horror. What. The. Fuck.

Anya nearly swore out loud for the first time in near ten years. Trevor had just cast a spell so horrendous that she wanted to wipe her memories of the last ten minutes. Perhaps the whole day. She thought that she’d already witnessed the worse of him. How sorry she was to be proven wrong on that count. She hoped that Father Wolf would appear right then to end her misery.

She had no words. Only her clearly horrified expression - lips pursed and twisted downwards, and eyes closed for a moment as if to will away the people around her.

Bianca was on her way back with three drinks and a card with the bartender’s number between her fingers when Jack appeared out of nowhere, and was promptly testicular torsioned and fireblasted at the same time. She nearly dropped the drinks, narrowly saving them by leaning forward and putting them down on the PRA table.

”What the fuck, hahaha, you fucking idiot- Why would you teleport in on a bunch of agents?!” Bianca laughed uncontrollably, bending over and supporting herself with a hand on the table. Fuck, this was too good. Far too fucking good.

Anya had finally managed to school her expression, neutral smile reforming on her lips. Internally, her mind was barely working. She had made it completely blank to save herself. She stood up, reaching out to try gently pull up Sloane with her and support her before she fell.

”That’s Jack, our ride home. It was a… pleasure seeing you again,” Anya lied, smiling at Trevor. Unfortunately, he was still a useful connection to have, as disturbing as he was. She then look at Jack, who… hopefully could teleport them away. ”Let’s go.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Atrophy Hey don't worry about the rp at all just concentrate the family stuff! Hope you're alright, sending loads of support with that

Iron and Honey: A Love Story [FernStone & AtomicEmperor]

Leon’s Apartment

The knobs were typically intricate of these big shower setups, and one group was even labelled as “Sauna”. There were at least twelve nozzles that began to dump water into the shower from all sides.

“Thanks,” Trisha called after him. She didn’t move for a moment, hands falling to her side. They clenched into fists, then unclenched multiple times. An irritating, irrational feeling of rejection started to creep in. It wasn’t that. Though she didn’t know for sure, it was pretty obvious from the two kisses they’d shared that Casey was inexperienced. They were taking things slow. He was respecting her privacy. That was good. It was.

It was just the far too familiar sight of someone’s back turned to her, that was all. A silly irrational thing. Her life was just back after back after back- her exes, the coven, her dad, her mom. But she was being stupid. This wasn’t that. And even if it was, it was day one, right? It wasn’t like there were many feelings there. He was nice, attractive, and treated her pretty well so far… but it had just been one day.

Nothing to get so worked up about. But of course, emotions didn’t exactly follow any logic, and she was awful at controlling hers. A bee worriedly flew past her eyes, landing on her cheek and snapping her out of it.

“Hey, go back to the towel, you can’t get wet,” Trisha murmured, reaching up to tap it. It seemed to rub its fuzzy body against her cheek before following the pheromone command she’d given along with her words. With the bees safely out of the way, she finished taking off her clothes and turned on the shower. It took a moment to figure out the insane amount of knobs. Rich as she was, she hadn’t actually used a shower this massive before. The Vanburen Manor was an older building, and while the current place was fancy her ensuite bathroom certainly didn’t have a shower like this.

The warm, all encompassing shower helped. She closed her eyes as the water was dumped on her, spending more time just standing in it than actually cleaning. She was in there for about ten minutes before she dragged herself out, the thoughts washed away starting to fight against the torrent and crowd her mind again. The bees flew out of the way as she grabbed one towel to wrap around her body, then another for her hair. She started with drying that first, vigorously rubbing it. Once it was dry enough she shook her hair out so it fell in messy waves down her back. It would take a while to fully air dry which… would be annoying. With a soft sigh she crouched down, pulling a hair bobble out of her trouser pocket. She pulled her damp hair back into a bun at the top of her hair. She had the towel wrapped tightly around her, so all she could do was wait for Casey to come back with clothes.

Immediately sensing her idleness, the six bees flew over to her. Two landed in her hair, while the rest landed on her face and shoulders. They started lapping up the water as if they hadn’t drank anything their whole life. Trisha bit her lip to suppress a laugh, because it fucking tickled. “Hey, hey, stop it! I didn’t say you could move- you’re not listening to me now, huh? Fuck, it tickles, stop- Go over to the sink.”

It was a far longer period of time than what could’ve been expected of someone just getting some clothing. Casey finally returned and knocked on the door with some haste.
”Leaving them out here! Taking care of something!” he called through the door.

“Okay,” Trisha said softly - he probably wouldn’t hear if he’d already moved away from the door. She carefully opened it, reaching out and pulling in the clothes. The bees finally listened to her and moved off her, allowing her to get dressed. She pulled back her own underwear, then the promised clothing. It was all too big, but the elasticated waist of the sweatpants meant they shouldn’t fall down… She just bent over to roll up the bottom of them so she wouldn’t trip when walking. "Alright, you can come back."

The bees buzzed back over to her, five settling sensibly on her shoulder and one choosing to sit precariously on her ear. She didn’t bother moving it… They were being really finicky right now. Maybe because she hadn’t been talking to them until now - she didn’t need to, but generally did when alone with them. Not so much around other people. She bit her lip, gnawing at it as she delayed leaving. Why? She couldn’t describe it, just a stupid feeling of dread. It’s seriously fine. Why are you being like this? So annoying.

Trisha took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, making her way through Leon’s BDSM dungeon as quickly as she could and back out into the hallway, then down towards the open room. "Casey?"

As she walked through the room, it was immediately clear that Casey had hung more sheets or some cloth blockers across Leon’s room so Trisha didn’t have to see it again. He’d pulled the curtain from the door itself, giving her a clear shot from the door to the bathroom whenever she needed it.

Coming back out into the kitchen, Casey had put together this fruit ensemble, and had covered the black leather couches in plenty of blankets. There were candles burning, filling the apartment with autumnal scents, and the projector was already running and displaying a warm fireplace.
”I didn’t know what kind of food you would want from this place, so I figured I’d wait to ask you. But, in the meantime I know that the bees are gonna love some of this fruit, and I know you will too.”
He was waiting in something more comfortable; sweatpants of his own and a green Army t-shirt. His hair was pulled back and tied up in a loose bun.
”How was the shower?” he asked, walking closer to her and moving in for a hug.

Seeing all the effort Casey had gone to, Trisha felt conflicted. She should feel happy about it all. She didn't have to see anymore of Leon's creepy sex dungeon, a comforting atmosphere blanketed the darkly decorated place and there was fruit. But she'd already taken one thing as rejection, and that was it. Was it fruit because Casey had taken one look at her and decided she wasn't healthy enough? He was probably right. Were the blankets because she couldn't be trusted on the undoubtedly expensive leather couch? That was ridiculous.
"It was nice," Trisha said woodenly. She didn't move to go in for the hug, but she also didn't make any move to stop him. She just stared at him, nose wrinkling and lips pursed. Her eyes, looking like a more dull brown without any reflected lights, showed her confusion.

The bees felt incredibly conflicted too. They could smell the incredibly tempting aroma of fresh fruit, luring them towards it. But there were also the literal mixed signals coming off Trisha, confusing them. She was annoyed, but she wasn't annoyed, wanted to get close and push away. Safe and not safe. Eventually, the former won out. There were no actual commands and no want to hurt. Five bees flew from her shoulder and onto a plum, immediately beginning to gnaw their way through it. The bee on her ear was less happy. Instead, she buzzed over from Trisha's ear and landed on Casey's cheek, just below his eye. She gave out a 'threatening' buzz to anyone that could sense pheromones… a very normal one to anyone else.

Trisha frowned. "Oy, stop."
She was probably talking to the bee.

But Casey did stop. He stopped mid stride, arms still out.
Was this too fast?
No, she was probably freaked out by the fucking cats… And Leon's nightmare of a sex bedroom. Casey hadn't imagined Trisha being prudish necessarily, but of course she knew Leon better than him, right? It almost certainly wasn't something she wanted to know about her Covenmate.

And obviously the two cats were unsettling. How could he convince her they're friendly and sapient enough to accept and comply with boundaries? They were both over twenty years of age, their unnatural lifespans maintained by the spirit within. They'd watched countless children grow into adults, and grew used to the kind of sibling relationship that existed.

But that probably didn't matter to her.
”Too fast? Sorry, I-”

But the Bees were feasting. All but one that landed on his cheek. It was… Was it defending her? Casey wasn't an educated man, but he had a good sense for things. He knew bees didn't do things for no reason.

It brought him back to that hill. To swatting that bee against the side of the mud hole and feeling it explode under his fingertips. As if on reaction, his hand flicked up and nearly squashed the poor innocent creature against his face.
But he stopped, resting two fingers against his cheek to try and coax the little one off any important areas.

”What's wrong, little one? Did I get some watermelon on my face?”

Trisha flinched as his hand went towards the bee, an automatic reaction to anyone else's getting near them. She'd experienced people squashing her bees. But he wouldn't?
And he didn't. She let out a soft sigh of relief. The strange tension she'd been feeling began to drain away. Internal problems pushed aside without any thought given to them, ignored but not resolved or forgotten.

The bee seemed to look at his fingers. It then turned around and raised its abdomen, string brandished threateningly.

"Heyyyy, no." Trisha closed the gap between them, stepping into Casey's outstretched arms and reaching up. She put her finger between the bee and his two fingers. The bee buzzed and she narrowed her eyes at it, brow furrowing slightly as she told it to fly away or get on her finger. There seemed to be a tug of war between her and the bee, which she ultimately won. It let out a grumpy buzz, ignoring her finger entirely and flying over to join the others on the fruit.

"She, uh…" Trisha lowered her hand, looking up at Casey and trying to smile. Her expression softened slightly. But how did she explain it? She was set off by seeing his back turned to her and got stuck in her head to the point the bees were affected? That she still felt annoyed about it? No way. "She got shaken around a lot while fighting the snake… made her and a bunch of the others way more pessimistic. Very weird. She was just set off by the shower, I think, and then thought you smelled different. Change of clothes probably. She was absolutely bombarding me with pheromones."

She leaned against him, loosely wrapping her arms around him. It was a good enough explanation, right? He hopefully wouldn't figure out that it was her that had freaked out the bees, rather than the other way around.

”It must be real hard when there's a lot more of them… Good thing we're gonna help you train and get better at it. I'd say we can start with the cats, but they really can't process the whole ghost thing with the same precision and skill we can.”

He had taken what she was saying at face value: It was probably just that she didn't want anyone getting hurt. If they did in fact sting and die like normal bees, he was certain it wouldn't be a positive experience for anyone.

”Pretty good you can handle it, though. Thanks for helping me avoid the sting.”

Back to his scheduled program, Casey's arms wrapped around her tighter, until he was almost squeezing. His voice got muffled in her hair, but the gist escaped.
”I've only had a couple girlfriends. Before the Army. I… I tried something with this guy from my platoon, but it turned out we were better friends, since… Well, frankly, neither of us were gay. Just lonely. Amazing what the brain can trick you into with enough emotion.”

If Casey was one thing, it was open and honest. Maybe too much so, but he didn't imagine the consequences of telling a girl he was dating that he'd tried kissing other dudes at any point. He was just happy to have someone there with him. He wanted to cuddle up and disappear: Finish the saga right then and there with her and with happiness.

”My point is, I only know what I've seen. I know it's probably not something you want to deal with, so… If you feel like it's not working, I'm strong. You don't have to hide around me. If you feel like it's not going well? We'll drop it. No harm, no foul. You're too sweet to be stuck in something rotten.”

"So you won't leave me first?" Trisha blurted out before she could stop herself. Too sweet? She'd never been called sweet before… because it wasn't true. She could pretend, she could act, but Trisha knew deep down what she was like. It wasn't her fault, it was just the way she was - the way her parents had forced her to be. But she wasn't sweet. But how could he know that?

"It's okay. I won't hide around you but… you're meant to work through problems, not drop it right away." She said that as if she'd ever worked through a single problem of her own in her life, rather than becoming a growing ball of resentment and pain. She wriggled in his arms a little bit, craning her head back to look up at him. What did he mean by all of that, anyway? Beyond her gut reaction of… happiness that he thought she'd leave first, she didn't understand. Because he'd only had a couple of girlfriends? He was inexperienced? That was fine. Because he'd tried it with a guy? Did he think there was something wrong with that?

"You know, I've dated about fifteen people," she said softly. She didn't like talking about the deep stuff, her feelings or emotions or problems. But that was just a surface level fact. She had dated a lot of people. "The longest was four months- she had an abstraction too, so she got the bees a bit more. But do you know how many I broke up with?"
She paused, biting her lip again. It was just a fact again. On the surface. None of the reasons why. "None. I've never broken up with anyone."

”So you think I'm gonna leave?”
It would've taken a particularly inept individual to not put that addition problem together after she'd said such a thing initially. So you won't leave me first?

Casey's eyes narrowed as the question left his lips. He stared down, eyes filling with a blackness as the dim lights shaded him in like a comic book character. His arms got just a little tighter as he thought of all the corpses that had begged him not to leave. All the dead men who had seen his face as their last sight before they left their mortal coils.

”I don't think you understand what you've gotten yourself into.” he spoke with a calm, reassuring voice.
”I used to help the Docs with Triage. I wasn't very good at it. I couldn't leave the dying men, and I couldn't bring myself to put them out of their misery.”

Something told him to help her understand. To understand his seriousness. He didn’t want to kill the mood, but he didn't need her worried either. For the first time, he considered that she wasn't just a cute funny girl; that there were problems there that he may not be able to fix ever. Things he'd need to deal with.

But she hadn't slept with him either. She didn't know that he couldn't really. That he was up at all hours of the night, keeping opsec and skulking the halls of the apartment building looking for any sign that things weren't perfectly secure for himself and the other residents.
Or how he obsessively kept his back to walls he felt secure around, or that too much noise and light made him shake uncontrollably.

She didn't know he was a freak yet. But if she stuck around long enough, maybe that number would go from zero to one… He only hoped it would last longer than four months.

Casey let her go slightly, only so he had enough room to kneel down in front of her.
”If the bus’ wheels fall off, I'll stick my fucking feet through the floor like the Flintstone family we saw earlier. I'll fucking drag you kicking and screaming if I have to. But I won't leave you like that. I promise.”

Trisha opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her breath grew shallower and her hands fell to his shoulders, fingers gripping his t-shirt. His words were enough to begin to chip away at the metres thick walls she'd built around herself. Just the tiniest of cracks, dust that had always formed bricks leaking out along with emotions she'd kept trapped. But she didn't believe him. How could she believe him? Her own mother had abandoned her. She talked about her as if their relationship was distant but still there, but it wasn't. She hadn't heard from her mom since she graduated. Every call had been rejected.

Why would a guy she'd just met put in the effort to stick around? How could she believe that? Really she should feel scared, there was an intensity to what he was saying, but she just didn't believe it at all. But there was a tiny bit of her that hoped it was true, and wanted to confirm it. “Everyone leaves. Will you really do that? Will you really stay, even if I’m the one that pulled off the wheels?”

She looked away, gnawing at her lip. Why was she letting herself be so affected? She'd already said it would be fine if he left. Now. Not in a month. Tomorrow, maybe, but not after a few weeks. She looked back away, smiling weakly. “I, uh, I mean I won’t, obviously. I believe you. I've never had someone promise me that so seriously.”

Casey tried to grin up at her. To smile warmly. He thought it worked, but he couldn’t hide the discomfort, nor would he even really know how to explain it. How could he explain that it was all trivial bullshit? That he’d seen death time and time again, and that if she had too, she’d understand the same as him. That they had things hard enough, and that commiseration was necessary for people to survive hard times. Or that he’d been forced into so many uncomfortable situations in his life that he, for the first time, was contextualising how little he’d ever actually run from in his life?

”Fuck the words then. Just let me show you… Girlfriend. Babe. Trisha… You’ll see as life continues for us. I don’t run. I stand and I struggle, because I fucking love when things get hard. It thrills me.”

He rose up to his feet, scooping Trisha as he had when she was wounded at the Festival. That same warm, strong, protective grip as before. His head tilted down to nuzzle their noses together in an eskimo kiss. His eyes stared down at hers, the bright blue of them piercing like a spotlight.
”Now, where were we?” he asked, the half smile turning into a more playful grin. He felt like he shredded the tension off, but kept observing her face for any signs of lingering doubt.
”Oh, right-”

He shuffled the both of them toward the fruit, adjusting one of his arms to take the brunt of her weight while the other slipped out and grabbed a few grapes. Like a man-servant, he brought his hand close, feeding her grapes with a playful look on his face.
”-the Queen needs some sweetness too…”

Trisha wrapped one arm around the back of his neck, the other loosely resting on his shoulder. She rested comfortably in his arms and put her worries to the side. Either he’d stay like he said, or he’d leave like everyone else. She didn’t want to think about it right now- she forced herself to not think about it right now.

She leaned forward and ate the grapes right out of his hand, before smiling sweetly at him. “Mm, they’re good. The bees are enjoying it too.”
She nodded towards the six bees that had merrily eaten half a plum between them, and were now lying on the plate in varying states of fullness. Once they’d processed all of that, she’d probably send them back to the hive and have another group come out. These ones had been with her all day… and it was easier for them to sleep there rather than with her.

“Oh, can we order that chicken you promised me? Grapes are good, but I really need something unhealthy to balance it out.” She grinned, expression much for relaxed as she leaned her head in and rested it against his neck. “I’ll have anything without bones in it.”

Hearing her opinion on the chicken, he nodded happily and sat her up, sliding her onto the countertop next to the fruit.
”Hell yeah! Alright, probably a box or two of boneless, I’ll get Mia her falafel, do you…-” he was patting around for his cellphone, but realised it was still in his uniform pocket.

As he moved away to move to his room, he stopped and turned back to her.
”-I’ll let you look anyway, I think. Because they may have a side dish or something you want. Or dessert. They fry chocolate bars like they do in the UK, with that thick ass batter?”
He waggled his eyebrows, then waved his hand.
”You wanna see my room? Or wait until later?”

“My friends told me about the battered chocolate bar thing, I was never sure if I’d be able to eat it,” Trisha wrinkled her nose, but she then smiled cutely, leaning towards Casey. “Maybe you can get one and I’ll have a bite or two of it?”

It wasn’t that she cared much about not eating junk food - she was blessed with a high metabolism and did actually exercise. But she also really wasn’t sold on the idea of a chocolate bar covered in batter. She liked battered things, and she liked chocolate, but combined? Wasn’t so appealing.

“I want to see your room.” She slipped down off the countertop and smiled teasingly. “I need to make sure it isn’t like Leon’s before I’m stuck here for the night.”

Ever since Leon and Casey had come to terms with their personal relationship, Leon had taken to curating a space for Casey to come that he’d be comfortable in. To that end, it was a far more tame and warm room than many of the others. There was a pleasant draft rolling through the room as the tall, slender windows were opened on the different walls. This was where most of the plant life seemed to be, various spider plants and hearty crawlers that had been given their own little tressels.

The bed was big, fluffy, and low to the ground as the frame swallowed the mattress and the boxspring. A closet was next to the entrance door, and there was a smaller entertainment centre that had a television and a bunch of knick-knacks. Different pictures, small frames, of Casey and their family, or pictures that had a teenage Casey surrounded by his fellow soldiers as they graduated basic. There was an American flag that was folded and pressed into its own little case, and two boxes of medals for various qualifications and awards he’d received.
Interestingly, there was a picture of Casey with the President… He was in uniform, so clearly they’d done something special.

There was also an amazing looking fish tank that was somewhat built into the wall. The whole thing seemed to be built for a turtle, and was a replicated freshwater habitat for the north-western painted turtle. The creature was at the top, sunning itself in the bright light of a warm lamp. Below the water, a myriad of different fishes swept to and fro through the ample space of water.

Casey found himself staring at it as the two of them stood together. He had one hand on his uniform pants, the other stuffed into a pocket and gripping onto his cellphone.
”Sometimes, I can stare at it for hours. I was amazed that Leon had kept Traitor after I left, but… Well, after he told me how much it meant to him too, I understood, but when he first told me the old guy was still around, it was a surprise.”

The tank was tall enough that to get to the top, Casey still needed a stepping stool. He slid it out, climbed up, and scooped the dinner plate-sized turtle out. It’s little webbed feet paddled at the air, and rather than retract, he aimlessly waggled his long neck out at Casey.
”Yet, here he is! I was like, five? We were up north camping. Traitor here was all alone, me and Leon made believe that he was a rogue turtle who betrayed his family. At one point, Leon had made a little band to put around him so he could project his thoughts, but… Well, turns out he has none. Or, that Leon was lying to me since I never would’ve been able to hear anyway.”

He found himself smiling like a kid at the turtle, and held it out for Trisha to touch.

Trisha looked around the room with a feeling of relief - not that she’d expected it to be like Leon’s, but it was his flat… maybe Casey could’ve been stuck with a room like that too. Thankfully he wasn’t. It was nice. She could see herself spending a lot of time in here… just relaxing with him, that was. Well, other things too, eventually. She walked past the pictures, looking at each of them for a moment. She was mostly curious to see teenage Casey - how different he’d been, but also the similarities. Sadly, none of the pictures were too embarrassing.

There was, again, a stab of jealousy as Casey talked about how much the turtle meant to both him and Leon. A shared memory. That must be nice.
“How many surprise pets do you have? At least I was upfront about the bees,” Trisha joked, staring at the turtle, half expecting him to talk too. Seemed to be a normal turtle, though. Thankfully. “He’s… cute but there’s no way Leon made him a thought projection band. No way. He’d have to have some thoughts in there, surely? Even my bees have thoughts.”

She smiled, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch the turtle’s shell. Then she, even more gently, stroked his head. She then dropped her hand. She wasn’t really the animal type, beyond the bees she’d ended up with, so she wasn’t sure what to do now. She ended up looking around the rest of the room again.
“You have a television in your room? Do you know how perfect watching stuff in bed is?” she grinned up at him. “I always wanted one when I was a kid, but my mum said no, and dad actually listened to that… Oh, I suppose you probably didn’t grow up here. I don’t have one in my current place either, since I got so used to not having one.”

Casey shrugged his shoulders, setting the turtle back up on its perch and sliding the footstool back.
”Well, actually… Funny you mention that, I’m pretty sure I was born in the kitchen out there. Mom doesn’t really believe in hospitals unless she owns the doctors.” he mentioned offhandedly.
Looking around the room now, he chuckled to himself.
”Leon and Elise got their own rooms. I had to share. This was his. Now he’s got our parents’ old room, and if you can imagine it, their setup was actually way worse. Like, I’m pretty sure my Mom still has a painting of her and my Dad just getting absolutely freaky with it. And that was hung as a portrait we all got to see every day. Titled Genesis, y’know like us kids were supposed to be proud of our parents’ active sex life or something.”

If it hadn’t already become abundantly clear, Casey was quite the oversharer. Mostly thanks to all the time he’d spent with nobody to talk about what he’d seen and experienced, he’d only recently come into contact with Adepts outside his family during his work with the ARC program.
”I had this tv in my barrack at the base. I brought it with me figuring Leon was gonna be home a lot more, but since I’ve been back and this whole Father Wolf shit is going on, he’s practically our Mom’s slave dog right now. So she knows he’s safe.” Casey finished in a mocking tone, returning to his pants and grabbing his phone.

”Alright, this food… Gonna have to work this and the breakfast tomorrow off really hard. I know a certain drill sergeant who would beat my ass for eating like this, but hey; calories in, calories out. I defended our freedom to eat Nashville hot chicken.” he smiled, his free arm wrapping around Trisha’s waist and gently pulling her close before plopping down on the bed with her to stare at the menu.

”If I could find some pot, would you smoke it?” he asked, glancing a side eye at Trisha with raised eyebrows.

Trisha was getting whiplash from the speed at which Casey changed topics. She was still processing his mum giving birth in the kitchen when he dropped that his parents had a much kinkier sex life than Leon, who seemed to have a pretty fucking kinky one. Trisha wasn't a prude by any means, and she was pretty open to trying anything when it came to that but… she was surprisingly private about it. And she really didn't need to know about other people's. But Casey had to grow up with a picture of his parents doing that?! That was fucked up enough even Trisha could truly feel sympathy.
“My dad's sexual escapades are well known across the city but… at least that's detail free. And hey, that's one benefit of you missing out on being in the coven - a serial killer isn't hunting you and you're not locked up by your mom.”

Trisha grinned at him then swung her legs around to hook over his, leaning into him to look at the menu. Fairly standard chicken affair, that bit was easy. Did she want any sides? She was pretty hungry.
“Ooo, they have curly fries, can we get those? And one of the deep fried chocolate bars… I want to try it.”

She flashed him a bright smile, before glancing down at his chest - not like, checking him out or anything (well maybe a little bit), just with his comment about working the food off…
“You're not in the army anymore, surely you don't have to work out that hard? Unless you eat your bodyweight in chicken you won't lose these.” she reached out and poked the top of his chest. “You're not going to start dragging me to the gym too, are you? Actually, I wouldn't mind if I got to watch you work out.”

With food mostly decided on, she was able to consider the pot question. “Like, for tonight? I'd smoke it, but you'll have to order at least another box of chicken… I've done it once before and I ended up eating like thirty chicken nuggets by myself. I don't really remember that bit but Cass- one of my friends- said I just sat in a corner for thirty minutes just eating. Didn't say anything, didn't respond to anything, just ate. So you'd have to be prepared to deal with possibly silent, constantly eating Trisha.”

Casey giggled when Trisha poked his chest. He was supremely ticklish around his chest and armpits, and he almost flinched. Instead his hand swept up, itching the spot where she poked him.
”Fitness is super important to my family. The Philosophy dictates an Adept's body should be immaculate and healthy. It's thought that a clean bill of health and a hard body gives the Lux a place where it feels more comfortable.”

He bumped his shoulder against her playfully as his head tilted over hers slightly as he loaded the cart.
”Honestly though, I just like it. I train to failure more often than not, so I always need a good spotter. It's not a necessary shared hobby, but love is quite the motivator for one last set, y'know?”

His eyes passed over to her with a gentle wagging of his eyebrows. His large fingers slid across the glassy screen of his phone loading the delivery cart up. He watched the total climb. Fifty, sixty-five, ninety… When Casey saw it was almost a hundred and fifty dollars for two people, his brow furrowed.

• Three Sandwiches
• Three Large Plain Tenders
• One Large Nashville Tenders
• Family Coleslaw
• Family Curly Fry
• Family Mac n Cheese
• Large Felafel
• Two Fried Chocolates

Oh, Mia… Will she want the mousse? No, it’ll be gross by the time she gets to it.
He grinned thinking about stuffing his face with hot chicken. He always imagined getting chubby, or even fat, and after what he'd been through in his childhood, the voice of his Father's “motivation” was always in the back of his head. The truth was that it was ritualistic self-harm. The training, the constant pain and discomfort, the voice always in his head that said he needed to do better and punch harder and run faster…

Like he wasn't ever good enough to be a cheater.

Casey hit order, watching the loading wheel spin for a moment before it was confirmed. He took a deep breath.
”Alright, that's out of the way… Though it's probably gonna take longer than usual because of all the traffic.”

His free arm was still wrapped around Trisha, his hand gently pressed into her side and stomach. He pulled her extra close, then tilted his body to topple them both over. Now laying next to one another, Casey tilted his head.
”I could deal with eighty thousand bees stinging me at once if it meant spending time with you… his voice trailed off, eyes locked onto and lost within her own.

“Well, lucky you… I only have sixty thousand,” Trisha giggled. She rolled over so that she was on her side, snuggling in as close as she could get without actually climbing onto him. She rested one arm loosely over him with the other one curled up against her own body. It was easy for her to hold his gaze, lips tugging up into a gentle smile and eyes crinkling. This close, in the soft light, their actual colour would be more obvious - a unique hazel that looked brown in most unnatural lights. “Earlier was an accident, anyway. They normally don't try to sting people unless I tell them to or they're in danger. It… doesn't kill them like it would normal bees, but it still hurts them. Regrowing the stinger takes a while too.”

She stretched her head forward, lightly kissing his cheek before resting her forehead against the side of his. “If you help look after them, like all the manual shit that comes with having a whole hive of bees, then they’ll be even less likely to sting you. Another shared hobby - I’ll be your spotter, and you can be my beekeeping assistant."

Trisha smiled brightly at the thought of that. It was a lot of work by herself - while magical in their connection to her, their long lives and not dying to sting loss her bees were otherwise normal. They made honey, which needed taken out and processed, and they needed tidied up after. She didn’t mind it, because it was her only hobby really, but it’d be nice to have help.
“Oh, one minute.” She closed her eyes, expression briefly tightening. The bees that had been on the fruit plate next door, lazing around after being fed, eventually flew through and out of the open windows. Her brow furrowed slightly as she called a few more, very carefully… If she messed up the call, then she could end up with thousands of bees flooding in. She really didn’t want to deal with that. Eventually she opened her eyes again. “Sorry, just had to do a little bee rota change. Those guys have been with me all day so they need to rest, and they only sleep in two places - me or the hive. It’s a pain if it's on me, cause then I can’t move much.”

Her face relaxed again, and she smiled at him again. “Sooo.. What are we going to do while waiting for the food? No point in starting a movie…”

Casey laughed, sincerely at a loss. He’d probably just come off as a creep if he said what was on his mind.
”Stare at you… Wonder how I got so lucky?” he grinned, shaking his head.
”Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe fix us both a drink, figure out what movie we actually want to watch. Maybe get something to smoke out before the food gets here so your appetite is ready? Does all of that sound like a plan?”

“Mm, I am pretty great,” Trisha grinned playfully. His words were nice to hear, and it made it easier to project that confidence she wished she fully had. But she did know how attractive she was. That was one thing she was truly confident in.
“Sounds like a plan to me… But we should choose the movie before the drink and smoke. I can’t promise I’ll have good taste after.”

She went to sit up, but then paused with just her head slightly off the bed. A slightly devious, but cute, smile appeared on her soft lips. She wriggled a bit, bending her legs and throwing them both over him while pressing closer so that she was almost on top of him. “But, I’m soooo tired after calling for more bees. I don’t know if I can walk…”

”Oh, Queen Bee… You’re so lucky I come pre-trained.” he grinned at her, taking her and sliding Trisha with great ease back onto the bed.
For a moment he was on top of her, not holding her, but looming. Daring enough to place a kiss on her open neck, it only took an instant for him to slip away. One hand grabbed thigh, the other hooking under her arm and hoisting her over his back in an army carry.

”Like, really trained.” he laughed maniacally, starting to spin around in place with her in his arms. It went on for several seconds, with Casey laughing loudly the entire time.
Once he stopped, Trisha would be able to feel him wobbling around in a daze; but it was mostly to scare her. He was pretty good at being dizzy. He drunkenly stumbled toward the door, then back out into the living room before flopping her down on the big blanket covered couch.

”I figured my Queenie would get cold at some point, so all those blankets are yours to do with as you wish.” he finished, planting a kiss on her forehead and pulling away to head for the liquor cabinet. There was all sorts of fancy mixology shit inside, but he was only really worried about the bottle of tequila and the lemon squeezer. He dropped a couple nice glasses on the crazy table. One in each slot, and they both lit up underneath as a small refrigerating hum starting to chill the glasses before liquid even entered them.

He went off for a lemon from the fridge, split it in half with a knife, and grabbed the honey from the cabinet nearby.
”So you say they make honey? We should make mead with it or something…” he said from across the room.

“Yeahhh, they do.” Trisha rubbed her head, head still spinning slightly. She’d gotten excited for a moment, could still feel a hint of lingering heat on her neck. Or maybe that was just from getting shaken around a whole ton immediately afterwards. She pulled her knees up to her chest and grabbed one of the blankets, wrapping it tightly around herself. She ended up as just a blanket with a head poking out, twisting around to watch Casey. It helped with the lingering dizziness.

“I actually have so much honey I don’t know what to do with it. Most hives have a brood box - where the queen lives and lays eggs. Pollen and honey is used to feed them, but mine don’t have that. Occasionally if too many die they’ll create a temporary queen… but it doesn’t happen often. So it’s all just honey. Harvesting season ended in September, but I’ve barely gotten through it. I never thought about making mead with it... It’s always just been part of looking after the bees for me, since they’ll get unhappy if the whole hive is filled to the brim with honey. There’s the risk of them leaving to find another place too… Don’t know if that would actually happen, and I don’t want to find out.”

She stopped, realising she’d gone on and on about bee information he probably didn’t have any interest in. She wriggled an arm out of her blanket burrito to fiddle with one of the three small gold hoops in her ear lobe. Change the topic to something more interesting, nobody wants to hear that much about bees- “Oh, what movies do you have?”

Casey had been intently listening to the topic of the bees. He was, as it stood, absolutely fascinated by the strange pseudo-physicality of her Abstraction. In his time with the program, he’d been able to work with a lot of different Abberants and Adepts whose abilities varied drastically between the most mundane spells and the most incredible feats of strength he’d ever seen. In all that time, however, he’d only rarely seen a manifestation as she described. He wondered wildly about what the “Voice in her head” was, as he understood almost all Abberants had such a voice: The Apparition within.

Did her’s tell her to change the topic? Were the bees so sacred that she wasn’t allowed to babble about them? Would pushing it be too far?
”Oh, every streaming service known to man, and connection to the Temple’s archive on the other side of town, so if we can’t find it legitimately, we can have it beamed over here. Remotes are in the drawer near your knees.”

The lemon, honey and a tray of ice got brought to the couch, and he placed the ensemble down before he started making them both a drink. Lemon juice, honey, stir; then the tequila and ice, stir again. He picked both drinks up, handed Trisha her chilly glass, and raised his.

”To what I hope is an enriching and long lasting journey for the both of us.” he smiled at her with warmth and, probably, love.

Trisha had wriggled more out of the blankets out of necessity to get out various remotes (because she had no idea what was what), and now to take the glass from him. It was cold to the touch, and she automatically shivered even though she wasn’t cold. She smiled, trying not to read too much into his, and gently tapped her glass against his before taking a sip.
“To that- mm, it’s really nice.” She took another, longer drink. She’d been a bit hesitant when she’d seen there was honey in it - not because she disliked honey, but she was sick of it. She had so much that she ended up putting honey on whatever she could so it didn’t go to waste. But this was really good. The honey was the main flavour but… the other’s really added to it. “You’re making all my drinks from now on… We have a pretty insane collection at my place, I bet we could create all sorts of cocktails. Might have to fight two of my sisters for it though…”

She trailed off, drinking some more. It was really nice. Perhaps too nice, as she drank half the glass in a short period of time. She grabbed one of the remotes she’d pulled out, trying a couple before it turned on something that changed it from the fireplace image to a selection of streaming services. She found the horror genre and started flicking through them.
“Do you have any suggestions? I don’t really watch horror- not cause I can’t, but I don’t tend to watch movies alone and some of my college friends are wimps. My sisters could probably handle it, but whenever we try to watch movies together it just ends up as an argument and we can’t even choose one.”

Trisha was rambling a bit again, partly so she didn’t just continually drink and end up finishing it far faster than she should. She kept flicking through but honestly, they all just looked like… movies to her. Nothing stood out. “Or I can choose randomly?”

”Well, a vibe is a vibe. So I hear anyway. Maybe…” he trailed off, holding his hand out for the remote. Taking it, he began to scroll until he stopped himself, fighting every urge to put on the classic ”The Bees”. The fruit was low: too low, he couldn’t possibly pluck it so close to the ground. It was for the pests. The carrion would feast upon such a joke.

So he moved away from the classic horror section, moving into more contemporary options.
”Horror movies are kind of a joke for people like us…” he commented casually, eyes glazed over slightly as he found it hard to think of a title that really impressed him.
”You fought some fucking thing called the Stygian Snake. It’s like a horror movie in itself. So, maybe something that doesn’t take itself too seriously?”

He wound up on Beetlejuice. He’d never seen it, but he heard it was funny and creepy.
”I always have a rule. Twenty minutes. Unless one of us sees something in the movie that we like, we find something else.”

“The Snake itself was pretty bad, but the apparitions it created…” Trisha shuddered slightly. Nothing would really hold a candle to it. It was hard to find fictional horror scary when you lived in a world full of it. Though she’d mostly managed to avoid that stuff since the Stygian Snake.

“Oh- I’ve heard of this one,” she nodded at his choice. She really wasn’t much of a movie watcher, but she remembered when this movie came out and a couple of her college friends had gone to see it. She’d been too busy studying for an exam to join… but they’d all given it glowing reviews.
“Twenty minutes.” She repeated, as if thinking it over. She took another drink… and realised she’d finished it while Casey was scrolling. “I guess my time isn’t so precious that I can’t waste twenty minutes if it's bad.”

She laughed, leaning forward to put down her empty glass before leaning towards Casey with a wide smile. “Sooo are we going to start now? Twenty minutes is about how long my bees should take to get here… shouldn’t be many, but they’ll probably be a bit annoying for a while. Oh, I guess if we enjoy it enough to continue it won’t work out so well.” She frowned, as if thinking about some large problem. Really, her mind wasn’t doing much of anything, because she’d drank the cocktail so quickly without thinking about how much alcohol was in it. But another problem did cross her mind, slowly.
“If I smoke, I might not be able to control them. I’ve never tried…”

He laughed thinking about a few dozen bees buzzing about while she was high and they were trying to watch a movie at the same time. It was a comedy movie in itself.
”Honestly unless they start trying to kill me in some crazy swarm, I don’t think I’ll bee too worried about it. I’ll pull the rest of the fruit out for them.”

Casey sat for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he wanted to start the movie. She made it sound like just a few of them were going to be a pain in the ass, but he didn’t have any kind of prior experience to know what she meant exactly. It was a tossup. He checked the order for the food on his phone.
Twenty minutes… They’re already on the way? Oh, it’s over there… That makes sense.

Movies weren’t supposed to be this complicated. He hit play on the remote without the chance for another thought, tipping his drink back and letting it slide down his throat. They probably didn’t need to be drinking and smoking; she even sounded a little hesitant about it overall. But it helped his appetite. Despite his love of food, getting it down was hard. Nothing tasted right after the Faim Incident on the Western Front, even after the effects had worn off and things tasted how they should again. Fruits, grains, those were easy enough. But meat… You learned to be nervous about the meat you were eating.

As the movie started, he patted Trisha on the thigh.
”Be right back.”
Long legs picked him up and took him over the back of the couch to stand on the unsunken floor. He made for a small box on the mantle, and brought it back to his seat. Inside was a bunch of baggies and other stuff. He pulled a stubby metal cylinder and a small piece of paper.
He unscrewed the cylinder, the smell finally wafting out of the box and into Trisha’s nose. It was a box full of different strains of marijuana, and Casey absentmindedly rolled a joint. He’d always smoked, since he’d stolen his first cigarette from his Father and realised that the man was never actually sober. Even on the Southern Front in North Africa, when they’d done some door kicking and found a few bundles of Afghani Kush bound for Morocco: Nobody was going to tell the CW3 that he couldn’t indulge.

After a few moments, a tight little joint had been rolled, and Casey put it to flame. The smell was potent, pungent like a skunk’s grave. One puff, and then another, and then he looked at Trisha.
”You don’t have to, by the way. No pressure if you think it’s gonna be too tough to deal with the bees.” he said calmly, holding the smouldering joint in his hand up in offering to Trisha.

“I want to.” Trisha reached out and took the joint from him, fingers lightly brushing his before she pulled away. She put it to her lips and took a small drag, quickly blowing it out before taking another, longer one. She’d only smoked it a few times before, all during college parties where her bees were safely locked in her apartment and she was free to get as high as a kite. But she was sure it’d be fine.
”I only called about ten… Well, it’s not that precise, but a small number.”

She shrugged, handing the joint back to Casey. Then she shuffled closer, ducking down to try and get under his arm so she could lean into his side. Her upper body was completely out of the blankets she’d wrapped herself in, but her legs were still tangled in them, stretched out beside her. She turned her head back towards the movie that was playing with a slight smile.
”I’m going to be honest, I’d hit a dog rather than driving into a river like they did- is that bad?”

He shook his head.
”When I was in the Middle East, they would just roll over people who got in the roads. Can’t stop the convoy, it’s too dangerous.”
Casey’s arm dipped down, holding Trisha tight for a moment before loosening and taking another few drags. It didn’t do much for him. Neither was the movie so far, but it was getting smoothed out by the THC mixing with the ethanol in his bloodstream.

Being crossfaded was, in his opinion, the simultaneous best and worst state to be in. It relied totally upon what kind of drunk you were, since the pot only really made you happy, hungry, sleepy or paranoid. The worst was a paranoid smoker and an angry drunk: Casey was neither. A hungry smoker, and a happy drunk. Neither of which he often partook in, though now it wasn’t going to be so difficult. No more random tests, no more PT. No more structure.

The movie went on a little more, and before the main characters managed to get home, Casey spoke up.
”Y’know a crash like that would’ve killed them…”
They didn’t have reflections. A scene later, they didn’t have reflections. He pointed at the screen.
”Gottem…”

“Hey, maybe they’re vampires,” Trisha giggled, reaching out for the joint again and taking another few smokes from it. She kicked the blankets off her legs and curled them up against her chest. She properly snuggled up against Casey, throwing one arm across him. “Oh wait, they’d still be dead.”

She squinted her eyes when the guy, who’s name she’d completely missed, went outside- before her jaw dropped at the sight of some kind of worm. What? The combination of weed and alcohol, for someone with a low tolerance for both, made the already weird scenario seem kind of insane to her. “I’m seeing that, right? There’s a worm inside a worm- why are they even in a desert? Did I miss something?”

Trisha was actually kind of confused, even though they were hardly into the movie, looking up at Casey and then back at it. They weren’t even in the desert anymore but they were given a handy handbook about dying. “Oh, they are dead. What were the worms about, then?”
She was really fixating on the worms.

Casey was just as lost. He hardly had the words to describe how lost he actually was at the prospect of what was going on. The little world that the titular character lived in, the strangeness of the transitions. Not that he wasn’t entertained; it all seemed to be an interesting aesthetic, but it was just… So strangely composed.

His phone began to ring.
”Warrant Richoux…” he answered it without even looking.
”Oh, just leave it at the security desk, they’ll make sure it gets to me. Thanks.
And then he hung up. Not once did he blink or even stop staring at the screen. He hadn’t actually laughed yet, however, and it was difficult to get a read on whether he was actually enjoying it from an outsider’s perspective.

He took another drag of the joint, then patted Trisha on the arm, holding it up to her.
”You can leave it running if you’re liking it… I gotta get the fruit bowl back out and meet Charlie at the door.”

“Alright,” Trisha smiled warmly at him, taking the joint from him. She was actually quite invested in the movie - not because she had any idea what the fuck was going on, it was just very visually entertaining. There was always something different going on. She did find it funny, but probably not at the moments that were supposed to be funny.

She raised the joint to her lips thoughtfully, as the strange girl on screen was able to see the ghost couple. She looked a little like one of the various edgy girls that had been in the coven- Trisha snorted. What was her name again? Didn’t matter. She was completely relaxed now, mind pleasantly fuzzy. Her bees should be turning up soon, too, and then Casey would be back with the food. It would be pretty perfect.

A quiet buzzing came from Casey’s room, and she could sense the blurry pheromones her bees were giving off. Some of the more sensible ones… Wait. Wait. There were a lot more scents than she expected. Was it because she was high? She was imagining some? But the buzzing was getting louder too. It didn’t sound like just ten bees, or even a hundred-

A whole swarm of bees spilled through the open door to Casey’s bedroom. There were at least a thousand, and Trisha didn’t have the time to figure out the exact number before they flew right over to her. Just like that she wasn’t relaxed. She was fucking panicking! The relaxing effect of the weed had completely reversed with the appearance of a thousand bees, swinging round to increased anxiety.

“Are you fucking with me?!” she yelled as the bees swarmed her. There weren’t enough to completely cover her, but they covered the front of upper body along with a fair amount of them landing in her hair and on her face. “I asked for a dozen of you, not a thousand! Fuck- go home! Go home!”

Along with talking to them she was doing her best to tell them in the language they actually understood, but they just weren’t listening. Instead they clung to her as if their life depended on it. She didn’t want a thousand bees with her! She increased the amount of pheromones she was releasing to tell them to fuck off - a sweet scent that humans would be able to smell leaking out of her, but not one that would have any effect on them. A few bees buzzed off her in confusion, and landed on the television. They followed the humans on it as if trying to ward them off. She waved a hand in annoyance at the bees crawling about her face, resulting in them moving onto her hand instead.
”Get off me at least- Plleeasssseee.”

Casey had been occupied in the side hall where they'd come in. The security guy in charge of the desk at the entrance was peppering him with questions that seemed less friendly and more suspicious. He'd never taken well to being bombarded by questions, and as politely as he could, Casey leaned on his name and the man's employment to remind him that those questions were for strangers, not for his effective Boss.

As he finally came back inside with the massive bag of delivery food, he could hear the buzzing. Lots of it.
There were only supposed to be a few…
He wandered down the hall with cautious anticipation, tantalised by the potential image he'd be privy to.

When the threshold came, Casey stopped and stared. He couldn't guess how many bees were there, nor was he cognizant of his fruit juice and alcohol stained hands and shirt, or how sweet he smelled…
He wasn't thinking about the honey mustard dip in the bag, or the fried chocolates…

He put the bag down on the island and grabbed the bowl of fruit.
She's panicked! I have to help her!
Shaking the bowl, he began to walk toward Trisha and the swarm.
”W-welcome… Welcome home, everyone! Come on, get off Momma while she's high, come eat some fruit! It's dinner time!”

A naive, foolish move.

Trisha didn't quite register Casey's presence until he spoke, and even then, she struggled to figure out what he was saying. But the bees didn't need to figure it out. All they saw was someone, a stranger, approaching their Queen. A threat? She was stressed. Panicked pheromones, but not alert ones. No order to attack. Confusing orders. Nice smell, strange smell.

The bees didn't act immediately, but they all started buzzing threateningly. Trisha noticed this, expression twisting from panic to a grimace to more panic. Shit! Ok, tell the bees to calm down. Calm down. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried to tell them that Casey wasn't a threat, he wasn't a problem, that they could go to the fruit bowl but nowhere else. The scent in the air that she was giving off got stronger, hanging in the air without affecting humans - but he would be able to smell it. The bees on her got more agitated the closer he got. The pheromones she was giving off were confusing and indistinct, not really telling the bees anything.

But she could still sense theirs and their increased irritation as they geared up for a fight. The ones that had been on the television screen began to hover threateningly near Casey. Shit.
”It's fine, they're just being clingy, you should-”

Before Trisha could even tell Casey to step back, the bees made up their mind without orders… though not quite collectively. The majority of the bees flew off Trisha in a massive swarm, buzzing towards Casey - some were aiming for the fruit to eat, others for the stains on his hands and shirt to get a test. But about half had a different objective: attack. They were coming at Casey with killing intention.

”Oh shit," was all Trisha managed to get out as she tried to stand up, half falling back on the couch, reaching out as if she could grab the bees. But she couldn't, and her pheromones were doing nothing - the bees swarm was moving in for the kill.

Oh shit was right. At first he didn't flinch, standing there with that fruit bowl… He held fast in the belief of trust. He truly thought they were all headed for the fruit, and that Trisha had things under control. But, she'd said earlier that she needed better training. He should've expected something. Something like this…

The first cluster hit the bowl, diving into the sweetness of cold fruit. A few initial fuzzy-body impacts against his hand made him put the bowl back on the counter, and as Casey did so, his body twisted. By the time his hands came away, he had a set of searing, flaming gloves whose stingers began to drive their needle-like heads into his flesh.

At first he accepted the pain, turned and held up his hands. He was going to ask her what to do next, since he didn't want to hurt them at all. The sweet smell was overpowering now, and despite not physically affecting him, it did make him think of a particularly calm day somewhere in a French field. At least to the point where he could concentrate and focus on a solution.

But turning himself revealed the oncoming swarm. All at once, Casey Richoux was covered in fuzzy little bees that wanted to kill him. Dozens and dozens of stings covered his bare arms, neck, face and hands. He harkened back to a summer spent in Upstate New York, watching Cousin Feddy and Cousin Eligh both fucking with a hornet's nest.

Morons…

Ripping off his shirt was a blessing and a curse. It was only about ten feet to his bedroom, but he was almost certain that there wasn't going to be any help from there.
”No, no! NO!” Casey cried. ”Not the BEES! GIRLS, NO!”
The shirt ripped the majority of them away from his face and neck, and he swung his arms like they were covered in lava, sending angry bees flying in every direction.

He stopped, dropped, rolled, then pulled himself to a foot and sprinted down the hall. His body crashed into the hanging curtains of Leon's room, and he slammed the door shut before making his way to the shower. Every bit of exposed flesh felt like it was ablaze, the stains of accidentally crushed bees and their stingers still jabbing into him as the hot water began to rush down.

He looked at the curtains through painful eyes and hated himself. He could see the stains where he'd been caught and hit the ground, smashing them by accident.
And he was woozy. So woozy.

Every killed bee was a pinprick stabbing into Trisha, the emotional backlash like being stung herself. She curled up on the couch with a wince, gritting her teeth. It wasn’t that many- one was too many to handle- she wasn’t the one who got stung all over. The swarm of bees hovered at the door to Leon’s room, little bodies hitting against it with soft thumps. Trisha’s pheromones flickered between panicked and pained, and the latter eventually had them flying back to her. They landed all over her, small fuzzy bodies pressing against her in what seemed to be an attempt at comforting her.

It didn’t feel very comforting right now.

Trisha sat up, waving them off her hands so she could wipe away tears from the corner of her eyes. The pain from losing the bees had subsided but there was still an emptiness there. She didn’t want to count them. Belatedly realising that she’d been using the wrong pheromones the whole time, she’d stopped them and slowly pushed herself to her feet. The slightly smaller swarm followed after her into Casey’s room and she closed the door, sitting down on his bed.

”I only called for ten of you," she said softly, as if they could understand and it would magically fix everything. She pressed a hand to her forehead, rubbing it as if it would reduce the fuzziness over her mind. At least if she messed up with it here there was no one for them to sting, no perceived threat, and she could just keep trying until they fucking left. ”Go home."

The bees buzzed in confusion, a few flying off her and onto the bed itself. She didn’t feel so panicked anymore, just… empty. It helped not influence the pheromones she carefully put out. The bees calmed down slightly, seeming to think they’d dealt with the threat. That was good enough.

Eventually, after multiple tries and careful thinking, she gave them the right message. All the bees, just under a thousand now, flew out of the open windows. She was tempted to close them behind the swarm, but there was no way she could reach that. She’d ask Casey when he was- Oh.

She probably wasn’t going to be able to ask Casey anything. He’d just been strung by a thousand bees. He’d want nothing to do with her now. It was fine, though. It was totally fine. So fucking fine. As if telling herself that multiple times would make her believe it. She always went and fucked things up, losing control in some way.
Because you’re a failure, Patricia. Maybe her mother was right about that. She couldn’t even stop her bees from stinging someone after smoking a little bit- Someone she actually liked! And now he was going to leave her, and she couldn’t even blame him.

Trisha scrunched her hands up into balls, nails digging into the palm of her hands, and forced herself to stand up. Even if he was going to leave her, or kick her out immediately, she should check that he was alright. Make sure he went to a hospital or a magical doctor or something… she had no idea where medical supplies were kept in here for immediate help, though. She’d just check then.

She slipped out of Casey’s room and to the door of Leon’s, knocking on it with a shaking hand. ”Casey? Are you okay? … of course you aren’t, I, uh, they’re gone now. You should go to a hospital or something…"
She winced. At least if he leaves me, it will be over quickly.

Trisha didn't have a long time to think about feeling sorry over the situation. Casey had cleared any remaining bees and remnant material off himself and had been sitting in his wet underwear on the cold bathroom floor, trying to get the dizziness out as the poison slowly circulated through his body.

But when she knocked, he was right back on his feet wrapping a towel around himself. His soaking wet hair was pulled back fully, out of the way as he ripped the door open and fully embraced Trisha. His skin was cold, he was gently shaking. He felt weak.

The shaking was tears coming up. Ragged breathing as he tried to hold back.
”M-m-my fault…. I… I hurt them… I co-couldn't…”
Casey's head leaned back slightly, eyes moist.
”I didn't think it was gonna hurt so b-bad… I just reacted, and I hurt them, and I'm… I'm so…”

He broke down. He was remembering the bee he killed in that field again: How he'd felt nothing, thought nothing of its consciousness or its life. He snubbed it out. He'd killed it. He'd killed men. Other men with families, and children… He couldn't hold back his regret, and after a moment he was on his knees, clinging to Trisha's legs and weeping.

He was sure he'd ruined the night. He regretted getting her to smoke, he regretted telling her he'd be stung by bees to be with her: Not because he still wouldn't, but because he'd failed in doing so to begin with.

Casey readied himself to be bombarded by anger and fury, and all he could do was repeat the phrase:
”I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…”

”Why are you sorry?!" Trisha wasn’t strong enough to pull him up, so she curled forward, face pressing into his wet hair and hands rubbing his back. It masked her own tears, coming from the pain and fear of getting abandoned again all combined together with the alcohol still in her system. But she didn’t understand why he was so sorry. He’d been attacked by her bees - bees that she was supposed to control.

They wouldn’t be in this situation if she’d been able to. Losing the bees hurt, people killing her bees always hurt and she hated it, but for once she couldn’t actually blame someone else. Because if anyone else was to blame, it would be the bees themselves. ”They were the ones that stung you… I couldn’t. Just. It wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t mean to call so many, I thought it would be fine- I’m sorry."

She shook her head against the top of his before pulling back a bit, loosening his arms around her legs enough so that she could squat down to his level. She leaned forward so that her forehead rested against his, arms wrapping around his shoulders.
”I’m the one that should be sorry… It was…" She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it was her fault out loud. ”I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please…" don’t leave me.

Casey didn’t respond with words. He just held on tighter as she got to his level, and ragged breathing turned into something more calm until he was finally able to piece together what he was trying to say before.
”I’m… I’m sad. I’m not hurt.-” somewhat of a lie: the spots that had been under heavy attack were black and blue from the amount of stings. But physical damage was temporary. ”-I… I just didn’t think it would hurt like that. I told you, I just got done telling you… That I’d be stung by all of them constantly if it meant being with you, and I instantly fail the test. And I kill them, because it hurts and because I can’t control myself, and I-”

They were sitting in the sex room. The gross creepiness of it, surrounded by fallen curtains covered in dead bees. He could’ve beaten himself. He could’ve driven spoons through his own eyes to scoop the worthless brain behind it out. He felt like he should be on trial like he’d always been. Like the scrutiny should’ve killed him. But she was holding him still. Probably because she felt bad that he’d been stung.

”-I’m sorry because I failed, and because I hurt your girls. And… I need to apologise to them too…” he said, finally pulling himself away enough to look Trisha in the eyes and apologise to her.

”I couldn’t control them," Trisha said, voice shaking slightly. When he said he’d take being stung by all of her bees, she’d taken it as a joke… because why would he suffer that? Why would anyone, when she wasn’t even worth it? ”I didn’t… want you to get stung. Didn’t think it would happen."

She just didn’t understand why he thought he’d failed. He’d hurt them, but they’d hurt him first. Wasn’t that how it normally went? If someone hurt you, you just hurt them back, bees or human? She would have done the same. But… he was obviously really upset over it. She wasn’t sure how to tell him it wasn’t his fault. She wasn’t very good at comforting. And there was still that fear clutching her that one he recovered from this he’d want her to leave. He’d realise he was being stupid.

”It’s okay. It’s fine, I forgive you, and they-" she paused. ”They can’t really understand words… I can try. Not now. Not tonight."

She tightened her arms around him and curled in against him so she didn’t have to meet his gaze anymore. It was difficult to. She shouldn’t ask, because it was selfish, and he’d been hurt and he was sad, and she should just tell him it was fine and really there was nothing to forgive and then let him tell her to leave if he wanted to but- ”You aren’t.."

Trisha paused, voice getting quiet. ”You don’t want me to leave?"

Casey’s swollen brow furrowed as his face scrunched with confusion. It wasn’t her fault. He’d walked too close, he didn’t understand. Frankly, he’d been cocky. The fruit bowl, the sugary smells… He hadn’t realised until it was too late. He felt idiotic and useless, and she was worried about if he was going to ask her to leave… When he’d put himself in jeopardy?

”Please don’t leave…”
He pulled away, picking himself up and bringing her with him until they were both standing again. He wiped his eyes and face, took a deep breath, and felt a warm bubble of annoyance wash across him.
Way to be a tough guy. Way to be strong for her. Tears are always the best way to get a girl to like you, Fuckface.”
”You don’t deserve to have your night ruined because some asshole got stung by a few bees… It was my fault. Let me get some new clothes and clean up. You should eat your food while it’s still warm. I’ll clean up, and we can pretend like I’m not an infant.” he offhandedly finished, hugging Trisha properly before adjusting his towel.

He gestured with his head for her to go back.
”You don’t want to hang out in this room anymore than I do.”

”It was at least a thousand bees, not a few," Trisha shook her head. But he didn’t want her to leave… Which meant he didn’t want to break up after less than a day. How did that make sense? But she was glad. She was still worried, she’d always be worried, but she was probably safe for tonight. ”Okay, I’ll go eat… but come back out as soon as you're dressed. I might eat it all otherwise."

Of course, that wasn’t actually the reason. If he took too long alone he might start to have second thoughts or doubts, he decided he actually did want her out- she would be worrying the whole time. She couldn’t say that, because then she’d look weak and needy.

She moved in quickly, pushing up onto her tiptoes to quickly kiss his lips. She lowered herself back down with a slight smile then backed out of Leon’s room. She grabbed the bag of food from the island and took it with her to the couch, putting it on the table there. After rummaging around a while she found the curly fries, and started munching them absentmindedly. It was strange not having any bees around, but… she didn’t want them there right now anyway. She tried just to concentrate on the food, finding some chicken too and just eating.

Before he could think about drying and dressing, he was already picking up the fallen curtains and staring at the fixture he’d broken in his escape. It didn’t look too bad, a few seconds under a spell would have it fixed right up. But, he had to wash the curtains first. They needed it anyway. But he couldn’t run the risk of another tenant being in the laundry area without clothes on, so he piled the curtains by the hallway door and came back down into the kitchen.

There was a brownish green smear where he’d hit the floor and probably crushed a hundred bees. It totally killed his appetite, Recollection colouring his PTSD in vivid shades of red and brown. The limbs never looked real…
He had to close his eyes and tilt his head back.
”T-trisha? I’m… I don’t want to ask you to do this, but I think I need your help…” he intoned from behind her.

”Huh?" Trisha twisted around to look at him, curly fry stuffed in her mouth. She quickly chewed and followed it. What was wrong? Had she done something wrong- no, he needed her help, that wasn’t going to be something bad she’d done, right? She stood up. ”What do you need?"

Casey had a grim look on his face, eyes closed. He was standing over the half-dry, puke green stain.
”I just… Seeing the…-” he gesticulated to the particular spot. ”-God, I’m so fucking worthless… It’s making me- It’s giving me-”

Not the innocent fucking bees…

He unfurled his towel, revealing himself down to the underwear but not entirely caring, and tossed the towel at the stain. His hands flew up in frustration.
”Fuck it! Don’t! I’ll fucking get it, I made the Goddamn-” his door slammed shut. There was a pounding noise that lasted a few seconds as he smashed his fist into the sturdy wall for a few seconds as he tried to stop the searing memory from being Recalled completely.

Oh good, now she’s really going to think you’re a freak. Yeah, where was this one? Mopping up for the Artillery crews in Zanzibar? Remember the screaming? You’re like a bee artillery shell. A shell meant to kill bees… Neat.

Trisha’s wide eyes were fixed on the shut door, and she flinched slightly at the loud noise from inside. Was he that upset about the bees? No, no, it must be something to do with having been in the army… PTSD. She’d heard about it, listened to her friend studying psychology talk about it often enough she remembered something about it (but not enough she knew what to do). She carefully made her way over to the towel covering the stain, putting her foot on it and rubbing it against the floor a few times, before sitting back down.

Casey spent a few more minutes trying to collect himself. He was thankful that the Recollection only ate up a few seconds of his time, no matter how long he felt like he was back there. It was like a waking dream almost, where things were replaced. Elvis’ head was a bee head, the other heads were bee heads. The guns sounded like bees, the screams were bees, the whole thing was fucking bees. He was a bee…

Another new pair of sweatpants and shirt later, and he returned to the door. He figured he could look again, figured he could do it. Opening it, his eyes immediately travelled to the spot again praying that it’d been taken care of. It had clearly been moved, and was fully covering the stain. It was wet, so he figured it would be fine. He just couldn’t look at it again. Not like it was.

He sheepishly made his way to Trisha, leaning down and kissing her on the top of her head. His hands gently came down to rub her shoulders.
”Thank you for doing that… And I’m sorry for giving you a show like that so early. It wasn’t your fault. It’ll never be your fault…” he paused, looking down at her.
”How’s the food?” he asked, trying to move away from the topic altogether.

”It’s okay." Trisha tilted her head up to look at him with a smile. It wasn’t like she did much, she rubbed a towel across the floor with her foot. Though for her cleaning anything up was… well, not a first, she’d been in dorms, but definitely an effort. She raised one hand to his wrist, gently rubbing it. ”Mm, the food’s good. Really good."

She’d grabbed a piece of chicken, munching on it like it was nothing. It was gone in seconds. The weed’s more relaxing effects were… only slowly coming back, but her appetite? It was still in full force after everything. As she ate another piece she patted beside her on the couch, indicating for him to sit down beside her. It was nice having him rubbing her shoulders but she wanted him beside her, where she could see him and he couldn’t suddenly decide to run away.

”Have something to eat, or I’ll have it all and then I’ll need to hit the gym hard tomorrow… nobody wants that," she said, on her third piece of chicken since he’d come back out. She then gestured to the television, where the movie was still playing. ”We missed a lot. I didn’t really understand it anyway."

”It’s all background at the end of the day… But I gotta finish what I started. Otherwise I can’t relax.”
Casey reached over her, rummaging through the bag and putting all the stuff out onto the table. He grabbed the box of Mia’s food and brought it to the centre island. The oven beeped behind Trisha as he carefully transferred the food to an oven-safe container and slid it in to keep it warm for whenever his sister would be home.

Then there was no excuse left. He had to move the towel. He bent down, rubbing it from side to side a bit more deeply, then closed his eyes and furled it into a ball that he pitched down the hall toward the back door.
He’d do the laundry later. For now, he needed to re-relax, the adrenaline having pumped every other intoxicant from his system over the last half an hour. He stepped back over the couch, taking his place next to Trisha.

The half-smoked joint was still sitting in the ashtray, and he went for it before grabbing any kind of food.
”Did you want to restart this and actually watch it? Or does it bother you?” he asked her, flicking the lighter to take another drag before putting his arm around the happily munching woman.

”I’m not bothered, I wasn’t following even from the start." She was more sober now, but she wasn’t sure if that would help. Not her kind of movie, maybe. It was entertaining but she wasn’t hooked. As he said, it was just background. She enjoyed movies socially but she wasn’t the kind of person to sit down and fixate on one the whole time anyway. Unless dragged to the cinema.

Trisha curled her legs up at her side, placing the box of chicken in her lap and snuggling into his side. She kept eating near continuously, with gaps only to pick up another piece, while watching the screen. Not that she was really taking it in. She was trying her best to push down all the insecurities she was suddenly feeling again, pushing it all back down into the depths with each bite. She didn’t speak again until she’d finished all of the chicken in that box. ”This is really good… I think I’m going to be ordering from here a lot. I wonder if they deliver to my house. Then I’d have to fight my sister’s for it… They can be kinda insane with food. And alcohol. Sabrina has to restock the alcohol like every week because of the other two."

She definitely didn’t drink loads either. Absolutely not. It was mostly them.
”Oh, I guess that doesn’t matter since I can just get it to your place. Since you’re not b- bothered by that." She awkwardly changed what she was going to say midway through her sentence, swerving away from mentioning the swift breakup she’d expected. ”I’ll come here every day and eat chicken and steal your bed. That’s what you’ve signed up for, so you can’t say no."

She smiled brightly at him, leaning forward and grabbing another box of chicken.

He felt warm again. Like his flesh didn’t feel gelatinous with bee venom. He leaned back gently, smirking as he wrapped his free arm around her.
”Once it gets warm, and things settle down for you Sycamore Kids… We can look for our own place. Maybe. If we want… You. Want. Or, I can ask Leon if I can get a bee box installed.” he smiled, smoking again before putting it back down and grabbing one of the sandwiches.

He felt safe to eat. Like nothing was going to happen again. Like the night could go on forever. He tucked into it and felt the warm juicy chicken paired with the crispy lettuce. He’d gotten extra pickles, and the acidity cut through the fat and the crisp and made his mouth tingle.
He tried not to think about eating flesh. Don’t think about eating the flesh.

”Sometimes I think about going vegan, like Mia. But I don’t think I’d be able to stay in shape the same way… But there’s no exact fuckin’ science I guess, so there’s nobody I can ask. I try not to live in a world where magic can just fix all my fuckin’ problems. Junior, fuckin’ guy… Dude goes to our Doctor every week, gets Green shaped, has his dick changed. ’I’m trying a new nose this week, what do you think?’” Casey thought aloud.

He had to let himself trail off just to get the energy to have another bite. Focusing on being annoyed was easier than letting himself get caught back up with the meat thing again. He’d had so many years to get over this, yet it kept coming back and back again. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. He just didn’t seem to get it completely.
But he took another bite, and he loved it. He fucking loved the way it tasted. And he would eat all three of those sandwiches, but he would be complaining the whole way.

”I think I should break it for you, give Nedia some more work. I don’t say that to him, because it just makes things worse.-” he spoke in between bites until the first sandwich was gone. Mac and cheese heaven was calling him. He grabbed the family sized bowl and one of the accompanying plastic cutlery sets, and began to dig into the gooey golden bucket of macaroni. ”-So instead I’ve gotta be like ‘Yeah man, looks a little more like Dad’s than the last one, that’s crazy.’ like he hasn’t looked exactly like our Old Man since he was allowed to start freely requesting procedures… But she won’t make him any taller.”
Casey giggled to himself thinking about how he’d never be their Dad, no matter how hard he tried.

Casey moved on before Trisha had time to say anything about his suggestion they get a place together… and she was glad about that. Her knee jerk reaction was to say no way, because it was jumping into things like that which had gotten her mom betrayed. But another part of her was happy and liked the sound of it. Not answering was easiest.

”Wait, wait, go back a minute-" Trisha grabbed a plastic fork, leaning over and stealing some of the macaroni cheese. She quickly ate it before continuing. ”You’ve got a green lux doctor that… basically performs plastic surgery? And dick shape surgery I guess?"

She snorted, finding the whole thing crazy. Maybe because she was brought up mundane and thrown into the world of magic with no preparation, and then went back to living as normally as she could. Getting a magical face lift every week was insane! She stole a bit more mac and cheese, eating it with relish. It was also really good.
”Yeah, I don’t get it. Maybe because I was born this attractive- well not born- but why get magical modification. Or any. I don’t think I even know a green lux doctor! My mom’s sister did try to take her to this spiritual healer when I was younger but she had none of it. She’s a woman of science, you know, kind of why I’m not too reliant on magic either."

Trisha grinned up at him, tone teasing. ”Surely your whole family needs some height removed if anything. Share some with the rest of us."

Casey laughed at the comment with warmth in his voice. It wasn’t a comment he hadn’t heard before. There was always talk among the adults about which of the five was going to reach for the stars like Dead Old Dad. Turned out none of them were good enough for it. He was fine, he came to terms with who he was: The shortest of three boys from a family of Jotunoid freaks.

”I can say for a fact that the Green Doctor and the Pink Therapist aren’t any big help. Well, they are. They’re big helps, and they’re experts regardless of their supernatural abilities, but often I find the people they treat regularly to be more damaged than they were before their help.”

Casey took another bite of the mac and cheese, smiling at Trisha as he held a spoonful out to her.
But the thought and subsequent action were interrupted. There was noise and clamour from behind the wall and door from the kitchen into the other part of the apartment. Voices got a little louder, and a little louder still.

And then the door popped open.
”-nd I just couldn't fucking understand her!”
”Almost as frustrating as listening to you bitch about it for two hours.”
”We can take care of this, yes yes!”

Three young women, accompanied by two creepy giant cats, poured into the kitchen, one carrying a large paper bag with a familiar logo. The very same chicken place Trisha and Casey were eating from…
It took them a couple of seconds to shuffle about before there was acknowledgement of Casey and Trisha. It was surprise that greeted them.

”Oh, shit! Humble Hottie, home with… A woman!?”
”Ohhh, Case! You got Pearla's too!?”

Casey shifted in his seat, a little less comfortable than he was a second ago. He mouthed the words “I'm so sorry” to Trisha, hand gently dropping to put the food down on the table. He stood up.

”Waaaah, waaaah, it hurts! Bees! Nooooo!”
The two cats snickered as Casey came into the kitchen light a bit more.
”Girls, I uh… This-” Casey gestured to Trisha. ”-This is Trisha. My girlfriend.

He gave her a chance to introduce herself, but before she could, Mia was already sliding her way across the floor to wrap her arms around Trisha.
”Dude, oh my fucking God, welcome! Holy shit, and you're a hottie too!? My God!? How long have you two been seeing one another, Casey, are you keeping secrets!?”

Trisha didn’t have a chance to get away, completely caught off guard by Mia’s hug. She really wasn’t used to familial affection, nevermind from her boyfriend’s family… who she’d just met! It must be a Mia thing, because Leon certainly hadn’t come across as the hugging type. Trisha just awkwardly sat there, neither pushing Mia off or reciprocating. She looked at Casey with eyes that screamed ‘please save me.’
”Uh, thanks…" Push through it, Trisha, you’re used to dealing with people like this. She smiled at Mia, though her shoulders were drawn up and tense. ”If I wasn’t this hot do you think I’d even be here? Of course I am."

It was a joke, of course, and an awkwardly made one. She finally removed Mia’s arms from around her and wriggled away, immediately getting up and shooting towards Casey. She slotted right in at his side. Hopefully being right beside him would deter any other surprise hugs, human or cat.
”It’s been less than a day, don’t give him too hard of a time." She tilted her head up towards him, smiling a bit more genuinely again. ”My family has no clue, so if anyone’s keeping a secret it’s me. But it hasn’t been long."

Mia looked a little embarrassed. While it wasn’t clear what the reasoning for her being so cold was, the Richoux woman knew what a cold response was. She backed off out of respect for Trisha as an individual, accepting that she’d either have enough time to get to know this woman, or it’d never matter again anyway. Both options were equally low stress, so she did what she was best at: She simply chilled.

The cats weren’t so chill.

”Ask Casey about the bruises.”
”Oh, Girls… You should have heard him screaming.”
They did pause to look at Casey. In the low ambient lighting situation, it wasn’t so easy to tell how swollen Casey’s face was.
”Oh my God, Casey! What the hell happened!?”
”I got stung by some fucking bees, it’s not a big deal.”

The trio stared at one another incredulously.
”I think we’re old enough to know about kinky sex, dude.”
”They were beeeeeeeees.”
”In fucking October?”

There was enough of a pause for Casey to stop them from pressing further by forcing introductions.
”Trisha… This is our foster-sister Harietta… She prefers Hari..”
The group understood the redirection, and embarrassedly, they held out their hands to Trisha.
”Hi, hi! Sorry, I know we probably interrupted you guys…”
Casey wildly nodded his head.
”This is our cousin from New York; Etiennette… We call her Eddy, it’s easier.”
”If you and Soldierboy break up, look me up…” Eddy said with a wink and a lip bite. Casey gave her a dirty look and shunted his fist forward to punch her in the arm. It seemed playful, and she responded accordingly by rubbing her arm and pouting in a comedic fashion.
”And this rat is my blood sister Mia. Youngest of the brood.”
Mia grinned and shook Trish’s hand.
”Sorry I got too excited… I just don’t think Casey’s had a girlfriend like… Ever…” Mia intoned in response.

Trisha just found the bee conversation funny rather than embarrassing - funny enough that she was still laughing when the introductions started. It was a lot of names to take in, but just three people. That wasn’t too many. Nothing compared to the various functions she was dragged to as a teenager. She awkwardly shook all of their hands - which was really taking her back to meeting various family friends she never wanted to meet.
”I’m Trisha. Just Trisha." She didn’t give out her full name, because she hated it and any other nicknames that would come from it. Her surname was better kept quiet right now, too. ”It’s alright, I’m just not used to… Well, my family isn’t really the hugging sort. I’ll get used to it."

Possibly. She then looked at Eddy, laughing lightly. ”Hey, getting with an ex’s family is not going to happen. My dad did that, and now two of my siblings are also cousins, do you have any idea how much of a mess that is? Even if we break up- which we won’t- I’d move to fresher, non related pastures."

Eddy dramatically gripped at her chest.
”Yo, I’m devastated in the wake of your honour. I only simp harder.”
The entire group laughed, and it did a good job of cutting the tension. Casey smiled at Eddy, knowing that was her strongest suit.

But the cats…

”Patricia Vanburen.”
”You know, the Vanburens? The Vanburens?”

None of them acknowledged the cats. But the information was left in the air, and there was a very noticeable wide-eyed glance that passed between the three girls and landed squarely on Casey.
He cleared his throat.
”She can hear them… She’s magic.”
The tension between them all deflated, and Mia immediately turned to the cats.
”Oh my fucking God, you two! You don’t stop, you don’t fucking stop!”

They both meowed happily, wagging their tails. Hari clapped her hands together to get attention off the creepy fucking cats.
”Yeah, anyway guys, let’s give them their night, huh? Casey, we-”
She reached into the bag of food they brought home, laughing to herself as she pulled out Casey’s usual: Three sandwiches, a small curly fry, and a family sized mac and cheese…
”-we got your usual for you! My treat this time… I’m sorry we didn’t call, I think all our phones are dead.”

Casey waved his hand.
”I didn’t know if anyone was coming home tonight, but I ended up getting the falafel for you two, and coleslaw, and the tenders we both like. In the oven.”
Mia was surprised, and moved to the oven to pull the little pan out of the warmer.
”Oh fuckin’ sweet. Thank you, second favourite!” Mia chimed, leaning over and planting a kiss on Casey’s cheek.

It was uncanny, her incredibly tall frame leaning over the countertop. What skin she showed was pale, pallid, almost fungal. The three of them reeked of marijuana and vague body odour, and the longer they remained the stronger it got. But it wasn’t… It wasn’t real. Trisha’s pheromonal abilities would recognize the similarity to her own subtle scent signals, but these weren’t for bees… They were for people.
It was burned, it was rancid, it was toxic, it was… Plastic? Some kind of industrial chemical smell. Strangeness. But focusing, it all seemed to come from the girl Eddy, whose eyes were always just a little bit glazed over.

”It’s really nice meeting you, Trisha. My best advice if you’re gonna be around here more frequently? Learn to ignore those two. Because they’ll hurt you. Badly.” she intoned, pointing down at the Cats. Her lengthy arm snapped out, grabbing one by the neck. The other was gripped by a phantom presence, and both rose into the air in the exact same position.
”Demon! Wretched beast!”
"UNHAND ME! THIS IS NOT DIGNIFIED!

With the falafel in one hand and the eldritch horror in the other, she bowed her torso slightly, then turned with a sigh.
”Come on babes, we’ve done enough damage.”
Eddy winked and nodded at Trisha, mouthing “Call me.” before she followed behind. Hari, still holding onto the bag of food, grimaced slightly.

”Mimi is right… Honestly, I’d think about inviting him over to your place… Or meeting in public places from now on. Being here isn’t peaceful, it’s just free.”
She gave a stern nod and tried to form a friendly and reassuring smile.
”We’ll deal with them tonight, so you guys can have time to yourselves. I’m really sorry about barging in again.”

And then she left, closing the door behind her. Casey’s muscles were doubly tensed, and he was holding onto Trisha tightly and shaking ever so slightly.

The cats… had known her full name. She hadn’t told them her full name, had she? No, Casey had just introduced her as Trisha. Was she misremembering things? She didn’t think she was. She barely registered the conversation that followed, beyond the acrid scent in the air so similar to her pheromones yet not and the warning to not be around the cats. Maybe… maybe they should consider her place. But as big as her house was, her sisters were unavoidable. What would be worse? She wasn’t sure.

She half waved to the retreating trio (and creepy cats). Mia and her friends hadn’t seemed… too bad, but she was glad to be left alone. It was more peaceful and relaxing, and she always found dealing with any family difficult.

”That was an experience- uh, Casey, are you alright?" Trisha just noticed the slight trembling through the arms tightly wrapped around her, snapping out of the strangeness she’d been feeling after that encounter. She twisted around in his arms to face him, hugging him back nearly as tightly. She continued, slightly jokingly. ”Did you feel threatened by Eddy? Don’t worry, I won’t call her-"

Maybe not the best time to make a joke. Her hands gently rubbed his back, which she hoped would help. ”Did the… was it the weird smell? Or the cats… well they weren’t that bad… uh… don’t worry, it’s fine?"

He shook his head, his brow furrowing as he did.
”Being completely honest with you?-” he started, taking a deep breath. ”-I don’t honestly know… But I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”
His eyes closed for a second, and a deep breath washed the shakes out of his body. He really didn’t know; it wasn’t another attack. It was… It was dread. Fear of the unknown. Or, was it… Nah. Couldn’t be the smell.

”Magical friends are used to certain shit. But the cats? It’s just… They’re like a bridge too fucking far. I missed it as a kid; I didn’t Kindle, so I couldn’t hear them talk. I knew they could, and I knew they were smart like people, but they just… I guess I agree with Hari, even though I think the girls just want the run of the apartment to themselves. For your sake, y’know? My family, their bullshit, it’ll eat us alive.”

Casey had a look of conviction in his eyes. Or, it read as conviction; determination to tell her. To make her see. But it was a creeping sadness, like if things went long enough that he’d lose her, and she’d be scarred to boot.
But she fought the Stygian Snake… Leon did too… So, she’d be able to handle anything.

There’s the conviction.

He took a long and deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly. He opened them looking down at her, warmth hitting him as he saw her pretty face.
”Fucking debbie downer I am, huh? It’s still not our problem for the night, the girls will keep the assholes busy. All this other shit is a road we’ll hit tomorrow, after a nice toasty croissant with creme and a cup of tea. Yeah?”

”Yeah," Trisha smiled softly. It was something to worry about tomorrow - to worry about if he didn’t leave her the moment she stopped being just a fun, cute girl. They’d make it work… Really, she was sure she could handle the cats. They weren’t the only paranormal creature that had read things from her mind. Though, she didn’t really remember much of when the Stygian Snake had been trying to turn them against each other. Surely it must have been worse? She could handle a cult family and their creepy cats, right? Right.

”But it’s alright, we all have our family problems! You have a pair of creepy cats, I have at least twenty half-siblings that could be as bad and I wouldn’t even know." She was fairly certain she knew of all her magical siblings, which were the ones she lived with, but there were some that… didn’t need magic to get under her skin. ”Maybe I’ll just kick down Ezra’s door- my oldest brother, he’s got all the money- and demand he buys me a studio apartment so we don’t even have to worry about any of it."

She laughed lightly at that. She’d certainly done something like that before… It was the reason she still had an allowance at twenty four, constantly turning up at her brother’s workplace and causing a fair few secretaries to quit. That wasn’t information she was going to share with Casey, though. But it was easy to fake confidence about the whole situation.

Trisha glanced back over at the screen, and the movie that seemed to be in its final scenes. She pulled one arm out of the hug to gesture to it.
”Looks like we missed the rest of it… Not that I had any clue what was going on. Do you want to watch another one? Or…" She trailed off, expression growing warmer and gaze moving back up to him rather than on the screen. ”We could just chill. Talk. Finish the food… I’m happy to do anything with you."

He grinned like he had so many times that night. It was warm, devilish and playful. He was going to tell a-
”Anything? Alright, I’ll get my ruck, we can fill it up and see who can lift the most. It’s me, by the way… Well, maybe it’s the bees? But they’d all need to be here… Y’know, that begs the question:-”

He nodded his head back toward the couch, but grabbed the hot mac and cheese the girls had brought rather than eating the cold stuff he had to leave during the whole debacle. The sandwiches were one thing, but he couldn’t deal with the texture of cold cheese sauce sticking to his throat.
Reminded him too much of blood.

”-How do you get more?” he asked, wondering the logistics of it as he held her hand to let her step over the back of the couch to sit in that sunken square in the floor.

”Uh…" Trisha had been considering the logistics of her bees having a rucksack lifting competition with Casey, trying to figure out if it would even be possible because they’d have to stack, when he hit her with the one question about her abstraction which was uncomfortable to answer. She bit her lip, thinking about how to answer while sitting down again, crossing her legs and getting comfortable again. ”It’s a bit complicated."

She could just give the easy answer, the one that wasn’t incredibly fucked up and that she’d actually used. But… Casey came from a family of adepts and a place that seemed to revere apparitions. He’d probably be able to handle it? Probably. Trisha took a deep breath, looking down at her hands as she finally answered.
”There’s two ways. I don’t know how much you know about actual bees but.. Normally it’s the queen bee that lays eggs. Obviously I can’t do that. All of my bees are female worker bees, because there’s no need for drones- they, uh, mate with the queen. So, if I want to get more I need to… create a temporary queen, basically. In normal bees this is done through the healthiest larvae being selected- again, not possible! So I can make one of my workers a temporary queen. She can then lay eggs, and the hive tends to them like normal. It’s harder to control them when there’s another queen. They listen to me outside, but tend to listen to her in the actual hive… But it’s how I got this many. I started with only ten thousand."

Her eyes had lit up as she explained, hands gesturing about as if to help show the process. As much as her bees and abstraction was something thrust onto her, she’d grown to genuinely love them and the process. It was one of her few interests… But, the other method wasn’t one she liked.
”There’s another way too. I’ve never done it, but it’s what the apparition did. I think she had… nearly a hundred times the amount I did before she was sealed. It’s…" Trisha grimaced, hands lacing together in her lap and nails lightly digging into her skin. ”Not nice. Basically she’d lure in in people using her pheromones, like the ones I used earlier but stronger I think, and then… she’d… directly plant larvae into their bodies. I think some died, some had to carry them while alive- I don’t know. I could do it, she said I could, but I haven’t. It’s just too…"

She trailed off, waving a hand. Just thinking about it made her feel a little sick.

Vulture Bees… Don’t think about the meat jelly…
Casey’s eyes didn’t leave hers, even as they both managed to sit down and he started going to town on the bowl of mac and cheese again.
Too much cheese, don’t think about the meat jelly.
He took a long deep breath.
”Oh, shit… So it’s uh… It’s not picky about living or dead?”
God is funny like that. Don’t think about the meat jelly.
”That’s honestly… Does it have to be human? I mean I get that it’d freak you out, but like… If we could make it sustainable, why not try? They’ll be living their best lives, you’ll have more bees to use and you’ll never have to compete with another Queen.”

If Casey was anything, at least he was solution oriented. He really didn’t want to look at raw meat like that, but he figured with modifications, she’d be able to take care of the majority of it on her own. Like feeding any other pet, except this was feeding and… Housing?
”Not like I mean I’ll take the bee pregnancy, it sounds like a nightmare. But, the Doc could probably make an entire person without the, y’know… No soul, just an empty vessel to fill with bees.”
Macabre didn’t begin to describe the idea of fully recreating the physical anatomy of a human body just so his new girlfriend could make an army of bees. But he also believed that if she really was serious about getting to learn her powers more, she could possibly get into the spirit of it.

”Though, I’m sure there’s a freak out there who wants it. With proper backup, I bet…”

”No way," Trisha cut him off before he could go further with that idea. It wasn’t that she cared about other people enough to not want them to go through that suffering even consensually, but more that the whole process was grim for her.
”It’s not as simple as just putting them in and being done with it… I have to check up on them, I think. Which was easier for her because she’s an apparition. I don’t want to do that."

She’d shuddered slightly at the thought of seeing bee larvae underneath someone’s skin, then having to watch them burst out. She wasn’t generally squeamish but that… was beyond what she was alright with.
”I could maybe do a… empty human vessel. I could pretend it wasn’t easier, I think. But I’ve never actually asked if it has to be human… I never asked. She always used them, so I assumed. Wait."

Trisha closed her eyes, frowning as she tried to speak to the apparition inside of her. They didn’t communicate often, and Trisha rarely started it but… it was the easiest way to find out if she didn’t have to fill an empty human body with bee larvae.
Hey, does it have to be human?
Silence. Trisha’s brow furrowed, lips twisting down into a deeper frown. Seriously? Surely it was an easy question to answer.
Does it have to be human?
Nothing. Trisha scowled, opening her eyes for a moment to glare up at the ceiling before closing them again.
Oy, freeloader in my body, answer the question.

... Patience. Came the response, finally, a smooth, deep feminine voice ringing in Trisha’s mind. I was sleeping.

Fucking hell- Well if you’re awake, answer the question. Do they need to be laid in humans?

It can’t be animals. That would be undignified.

Undignified how? Well, whatever. It was enough of an answer for Trisha to cut off the conversation, eyes opening and expression relaxing. She looked back at Casey with a slight smile.
”She said it can’t be in animals, so I can’t just buy a chicken breast and put them in there- I guess that means only humans. What other kind of flesh is there?"

Casey gave a momentary thoughtful look..
”For certain rituals, we’ve always eaten things that aren’t from this uh… Dimension? Mostly in my life, we’ve had this guy who lived with us. Well, the Chef, Andrade? You ate his food tonight. The cake that healed your pretty face.”
He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.
”Maybe it’d be morbid to her, but there’s this spell that Andrade uses that can make Apparitions vaguely physical. Enough that we can harvest actual meat off of them. I don’t know if she’d be offended or think it’s a better offering, but… We can make it happen I bet. Andrade likes me, he treats me well.”

”Oh, I’ve heard of him- I think we had a family meal at one of his restaurants once? Didn’t know about the apparition meat thing… Wait, does that mean I ate an apparition earlier? Or was it just a magical cake?" Trisha shook her head, that wasn’t what was important right now… and she didn’t really care either way. There were friendly apparitions like the Queen she hosted, but most weren’t. She’d help kill enough ten years ago that the thought of them being used as meat didn’t bother her, at least.
”It doesn’t really matter if she doesn’t like it, as long as it works. Well, I suppose I should check."

She didn’t bother closing her eyes this time. Would apparition meat offend you?
There was no response. Only silence, echoing on and on… Trisha rolled her eyes.
”She’s either ignoring me, or asleep again, so I’m sure it’s fine with her. If it’s possible, I’d prefer it… Something that isn’t human shaped.’"

She gestured with her hands, as if forming a body, then tilted her head back towards Casey with a bright smile.
”Thanks. I didn’t think it’d be possible to grow my hive any further- I’ve had this many since the Snake. Not that I needed to… but now I think I should."

Casey nodded his head, polishing off the last of the family sized bowl. It was like a fucking tub of macaroni and he felt proud of himself that he cleared it while the image of the substance was still in his head.
Stop thinking about the fucking-”
”There’s bees in South America that eat meat. Like, they eat it and make uh… Meat jelly. Which, until I did mop-up for artillery crews, I never knew existed. But one of my buddies whose parents were from down there, when we… When we were cleaning, he mentioned it. Like a joke, trying to make the squeamish guys yuck up. “

Verbalising the image was new and uncomfortable, but he was able to take it mostly in stride. Maybe because it had to do with her. Or not, since he wasn’t able to take the pain of a few bee stings. Failure.
He went back for the sandwich he hadn’t finished. It was kind of cold, but a room temperature chicken sandwich was easier to handle than the sticky cheese sauce. But he was feeling the sense of comfort washing back over him as his body tried to relax in a place it never felt relaxed in.

Not without her. It was new. It was new, and he liked it, and he wanted to be comfortable for her and with her. Life would be good if he just tried. Try and fail, why try? He grimaced, making a funny face to accompany his explanation of meat jelly.
”But, I guess they still go out and get flower pollen like honey bees? They only breed in the flesh?”

Trisha grimaced at the thought of a meat jelly making bee. She knew there were other, stranger types of bees but hadn’t looked into them when researching her own. There weren’t exactly beekeeping guides for meat eating South American bees- who would want that? Though she’d seen and directed her bees to attack people before, and seen them sting and bite them to death. Perhaps it wasn’t so different. The image was a little less disgusting when thought of like that.

”Yeah, mine don’t eat flesh. They’ll kill people if I ask them to- not that I do- but they won’t eat it. Really the, uh, flesh breeding thing is the apparition rather than them…" She glanced at his chicken sandwich, feeling her own appetite come back again, and reached out for the lukewarm curly fries she hadn’t finished earlier. They weren’t too bad. She munched on a few before continuing.
”When I’m not telling them to do anything, they’re just like normal honey bees. They collect pollen, stock up the whole hive with it and make honey. I’m probably single handedly doing more for the flowers in St Portwell than anyone else-"

She grinned, stuffing a few more fries in her mouth. They weren’t as good as they had been hot, but it was alright, she just wanted to eat something. ”It's funny sometimes, because if I call too many during spring or summer half of them will turn up laden with pollen… It gets everywhere. I considered only wearing yellow and brown last spring because they kept landing on me with it. I try not to interrupt them going about their… bee business when I can, but they need frequent contact with me to even do it."

Trisha waved a curly fry in the air. ”Bit of a long winded answer to a simple question, sorry."

Casey was very clearly in the middle of churning out some thoughts.
”No, you’re fine! You’re talking and I’m listening, and… Do you ever think about how when you meet someone new, you get through all the interesting stuff in the first few days? Until secrets are left? Then nobody says anything until it becomes relevant?”
He was chewing as he asked the question, but when he swallowed, he put his hand up and slid it as if to cut her off.

”Wait, no… Save that one. Back to the bees; I hope you aren’t annoyed answering my questions but I’m super fucking interested. So, like, what? She, The Queen, just was like some fuckin’ nature spirit? One of the other Warrants in my special unit used to always say ‘It’s magic my man, don’t think too hard.’ But, he was like Leon; he Kindled early in a family where it was all magic all the time. Me; I always had to hear about it second hand, or see weird secondary results like phantoms throwing furniture or something.”

He shrugged, waving his hand again in a different direction, like he was turning a page in the book.
”But basically, if she does this whole thing about letting them grow in flesh, then why let them keep the whole process just for a backup? I mean, I get it being kind of convenient, but at the same time you’ve gotta ask yourself how long she’s been around. Have you ever just like sat and bothered her with questions like that?”

And then he grinned. The hand he was moving to gesticulate through the conversation began to roll, like he was winding a chord or something.
”So I combine the two points: We’re getting to know one another, and I’m trying not to blitz through my life and dump it all on you. Are you down to the point with The Queen where it’s just secrets? Or have you ever gotten to know one another at all? Or, what are the chances there’s a bunch of stuff she knows about that you don’t? Like, maybe, raising them in meat changes them?”

”I…" Trisha trailed off, actually thinking about it. She felt a bit embarrassed the answer to whether she’d just sat and asked questions was no. They adjoined, the Queen taught her the basics, she helped against the Stygian Snake a year later, then she settled into a routine of tending to the bees she had. She hadn’t thought to talk to her more or find out more about her abstraction. It hadn’t been that important beyond the companionship the bees brought her.

”I don’t really know her at all. She talks to me maybe… every few months? One time we didn’t talk for a year. Normally it’s just something stupid as well, like pointing out that I’m cutting off the honeycomb wrong- or a snide comment." She was quickly realising how little she knew both about her apparition and the abstraction that came with her. There were the bees, there were the pheromones, but was there more? She’d never thought to ask.

”I always just assumed what she told me at the start was all there was to it. She said raising them in humans was faster, but that was it. I don’t… Well, all of my friend’s with magic are adepts. The ex-Sycamore group I’m still friendly with, and one college friend- my ex, actually. The rest are Blind so I spent those four years barely thinking about it." Her eyes widened slightly, something akin to excitement shining in them.
”Do you think I should? Try to get to know her, that is, just like I am with you? Well, not the same, I’m not trying to-" she snorted, covering her mouth. ”Date her."

”It’s more intimate, isn’t it?”
He rolled his head about slightly, thinking about the situation. Leon had described some pretty intense feelings to him, and he understood that it was done in confidence. So he couldn’t really share it.
Rather, he reached out and grabbed the conversation again.
”Well, you’re sharing a body right? A total union. Sometimes… Sometimes, you’re like a prison warden. Some people seem like they’re besties with their ghosts. Some people practically gave birth to their ghosts. Like the trio of slugs in the other room; Eddy’s Apparition was born after they did a ritual together. She treats that ghost like her baby.”

He didn’t like the Heroin Baby. He really didn’t like it. He didn’t believe for a second that they weren’t using it to get high. What was the difference besides not catching diseases from dirty needles? But that wasn’t Trisha’s problem, and Casey wasn’t a detective…
Yet…

”Ohhhh…" Trisha couldn’t imagine treating an apparition like a baby- Well, she sort of did it with her bees sometimes, but it wasn’t quite the same. Nor did she feel like a prison warden, or really a friend of the Queen. What was it for her…
”If I had to describe what it’s like for me… it’s kind of like having a second mom, except she’s in my head. Silent for months before popping up with some unwanted advice or criticism. Doesn’t always respond when I ask, but will answer when she feels like it-"

Trisha froze, realising that gave a little more information about her actual mom than she’d wanted to. Though her mom tended to just come in with criticism rather than advice, while the Queen tended to do the former a bit more. It was kind of sad. A bee ghost she shared a body with was more maternal than her own mother.
”Point is, I don’t really feel close to her or… find it that intimate. She’s just there, and I sometimes forget that the bees aren’t just mine. I never really thought about talking to her, or treating her like a friend or… well, I think she’s at least a thousand, I couldn’t treat her like my child."

Finding her comment on it being like a second Mom to be funny, he thought about his own mother. Lots of nightmares there. Lots of screaming. He’d hate for her to be in his head. If she wasn’t busy doing something, there was a chance she was in the room with them without either of them really knowing. Mia taught him a White spell that the others use to feel her magic’s presence, but it was impossible to identify a source that she’d enchanted.

He didn’t have his glove, however, so he’d have to ignore the paranoia.
Focus on the good stuff, don’t trauma dump about your Mom. Girls hate hearing about their boyfriends’ Moms.

”Well, then it sounds like she’s not really the type to be in your head. Which sounds great, it means she probably doesn’t have any preconceived notions about you. You can make the relationship whatever you want. Lets brainstorm it.-”

He leaned forward for a minute to roll another joint, and remembered there was a couple fried candy bars.
Fuck! Just don’t bother saying anything. The meal is fucking ruined, we’ll do it again soon.
So he simply worked out the immediate problem, licking and sticking the paper roll full of ground up herb into a complete conical cylinder. He lit it, smoked again, and offered it to Trisha.

”My first thought after hearing you is that she’s got pretty high standards. Like, maybe unless we get this whole meat thing worked out, maybe get control of some more bees, she won’t want anything to do with you in the first place?”

Just like my actual mom. Trisha was beginning to find her analogy a bit too accurate, now. Though it was just a guess when it came to the Queen… She took the offered joint, taking a long inhale from it. She slowly exhaled as she thought, handing it back to Casey. After a few seconds she felt it relaxing her again, just slightly.
”You’re probably right. I don’t know much about her, but she doesn’t really care about humans… she only adjoined with me in the first place because she was weakened. She probably only told me anything so the bees were cared for."

She tilted her head, half expecting the apparition to say something about that. Of course, she didn’t say anything at all. Typical.
”That would explain why I can’t do much with the pheromones people can smell- I can only lure people in because she wants me to make more bees, and scare them off to protect the ones I have. Though they’re not even strong enough for that- oh. If they start leaking out again, cause of smoking, just hit me or something. Anyway, she must’ve been able to do more than that."

Casey nodded his head as Trisha spoke, punctuating any particular points she was making, or where he agreed with her logic, with nods or gesticulative pointing toward not much of anything.
”The uh… The Cats are apparently from America. They say they grew up in the swamplands, like down South, and that before it was settled and populated, America was this magical forest where spirits had a bunch of territory to themselves to just do shit. That things were natural because the people believed they were how things were. Leon says Lelou has mentioned similar things.”

He liked to imagine the world like that. Primal and beautiful. But maybe people like him would’ve just spent their time afraid of every tree and creek. They’d be terrified that the ground would just swallow them whole, leave no trace discernable by any other mortal man. The shaman would know, but the soldier would just fucking die. The Blind Soldier. He did identify with them best.

”So, if she’s that old and she’s from here, she’s probably used to just doing things on her own. A free spirit, trapped in a box first, then forced to hitch a ride in a foreign body. If we started honouring her the way that a consciousness that old wants to be honoured, I’m certain we’ll find a whole different kind of spirit than what you’re used to. We find a little land, we put some better hives down, bigger and more robust, we deck them out with some ancient symbols and other shit that she likes, and boom.”
Casey reached for Trisha’s hands with excitement at the prospect of making this work with her.

Trisha let him take her hands, fingers curling around his. That sounded nice. She wasn’t so sure about the whole honouring her thing, but… she’d like more space for the bees. Proper hives built on proper land, rather than one she’d managed to get in her bedroom because it was the only space that was really hers. Funny, when her family undoubtedly had acres of land… But that was all Ezra’s, maybe shared with some of the other oldest.
”So, kind of like filial piety but for a spirit? I never thought about what it would’ve been like for her before… I’ve never heard of anything like that from her, but she must’ve had her own little spot in the world without humans around. The bees probably made their homes in whole trees or some shit like that.”

She tilted her head, smiling warmly at him. ”Even if it doesn’t make her happier, I’d love to have more space for the bees. Even just a little land, somewhere outside, for them… I already mentioned they’re in my room just now. It’s not ideal for anyone. I don’t know… how do you even go about buying land? We’d have to buy it, right?"

Her face scrunched up cutely as she tried to think about how much that would be. She had no idea. She’d never bought property. How much did she have? Not much, she spent most of her monthly allowance on herself and the bees… Ah, she did have a little leftover from a coding job she’d done recently.
”It’d have to be somewhere close- or at least, driveable. If I don’t visit the hive every day or two the bees get grumpy about it. Though maybe they’d be better if they had more space… or if she told me more about how to look after them. Oh, I wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess either."

He thought about her question having to do with the land. She really was a rich girl, and he imagined she didn’t ask many questions overall. At least not about practical things, maybe.
”Well, I do have a choice. There’s a program for Veterans coming back home where if you have a business idea or something, the Feds will grant you out land or property for you to use. If I file the paperwork for a beekeeping and honey business, we get the land granted. We could build on it; things may be rough at first if it’s just a plot of land though, and there’s no guarantee we could zone for residential on it since it’s granted.”

He had looked into the program earlier, when he first considered stepping away from the Army. He wanted to start a Gunsmith, but really he just wanted a free property to have a trailer on where people wouldn’t bother him without a reason. Some quick income he could do with the effort of his magic, or if he cared enough he’d do the work with his hands like an actual craftsman. But bullets and bees would probably net even more cash.

”I uh… This is fast, isn’t it? No, right? Because it’s for the bees really, it’s not about either of us. You deserve to have a good relationship with your ghost, and if you can make money while you make memories, that’s best right?”

”Yeah, it’s for the bees and her, not us," Trisha nodded. That sounded about right. She wasn’t really thinking about all the other things that came along with running a business with someone… Well, she didn’t really know much about running something like that at all. If she did, she might have already started trying to sell her honey.
”But, would you really want to do that? I assume you can only get land granted once… What if it doesn’t work out? There must be so many honey businesses, mine aren’t that special, so-"

She cut herself off before she started vocalising all of her concerns about that, and going down a dark path she didn’t want to. It was for the bees, for improving her abstraction, and for the possibility of a little money with it. That wasn’t the main point, right? And it would be fine if she had to move out of those hives later. Maybe the bees could still live there.

She smiled again, as if all of those concerns were nothing. Really, they weren’t. They weren’t.
”It sounds nice, even if there’s a lot to do at first- I put together my own hive mostly by myself, I’m sure I can do multiple with help. I’m harder working than you’d think."

Though, hard work for her had been hours of studying rather than any kind of manual labour. She then thought about something he’d said in among all of that.
”Why would we… zone for residential? Do you want to build a house as well? Bee hives don’t count as residences, do they?"

”Well, I always imagined living with my business. I guess I like the idea that I’m the one defending it. But, no I’m sure that bee boxes aren’t residential like that. But I bet you we could have staff and stuff. And better, you’ve got magical honey. See, magic is useful for shit like this, we used to talk about this all the time in the dirt.”

He scooted on the couch, arm wrapping around her and holding her close while the other painted a scene in front of them.

”You know people will buy any crock of shit with a clever punchline or some story in it. So we play it up. It's magic honey. But the people who know really will know that it is magic. We use our connections to the people we know, and we pipe it back to them. Special ingredients, or exotic pollens… There’s this guy? Ken? From the Sycamore? And Leon told me he like, travels across dimensions and brings some of you guys like souvenirs. We could go to him and get weird pollen and stuff to use!”

”Ken…" Trisha leaned into Casey while trying to remember. There had been a lot of people in Sycamore, and while she’d interacted with people outside of her clique a little more than the other rich kids… it was a bit difficult to remember them all. Oh! ”Kenshiro? I remember him. We didn’t really talk much- but if he has flowers from other dimensions, I don’t see why not. I bet the bees could use it easily, they’re smart little creatures… I wonder what it would do to the honey. The honey they make is already better, I think, but I’m probably biased. I’ve never heard another opinion about it."

She smiled, just thinking about it… There would definitely be a market for magical honey. There were people with too much money and knowledge of the magical world who’d buy anything.
”I don’t really have any magical connections in that way, but I bet I could sell it to my brother- Ezra just eating it would be enough for tons of other people in the business world too. He doesn’t know anything about magic, but I bet he’d just be happy I’m doing something rather than leech-" she stopped, laughing awkwardly. ”He’d be happy I’m following in dad’s footsteps."

But that was getting a bit ahead of herself. They needed ‘magic honey’ first.
”Oh, we could test the waters a bit to see if it’s even worth it before… building the hives, at least. I have enough from this year to give out, get opinions, I don’t know. Maybe that won’t help."

”Oh, I bet it will. We’ll run it to Andrade, have him use it to whip us up something. So long as I keep my business out of Lynette’s hands-”
He stopped dead, realising what it meant to go on far too long in a direction that wasn’t the right one. He frowned.
”I… Only really know The Temple. The people there would be the ones who could help me most. But, that’s me. I guess I would be worried that you wouldn’t want that in your life. Frankly I don’t either, but… Well-”
Casey’s hand rubbed Trisha’s shoulder gently.
”If I’d want to keep my own Mother out of my business, imagine how much I wouldn’t want her in yours? So, maybe we stay as far away from them as we can. We stick to what we can get, we use flowers from here, and maybe as you and the Queen get more personal, we find out there’s stuff we can do on our own to make things better. And we give her space, give you space, to just fill the area with bees in natural hives that we don’t even take honey from.”

He sat for a second imagining the macabre forest full of human-shaped natural hives built around never-living bodies hung from trees. Bloody Bees.
I’ll have forgiveness.
”I think… If it takes the flesh for things to get better, I think Doctor Nedia can be trusted. She’s always been good to me. Well, they all have, but she was… Special. Like an aunt who you can cry to. Andrade’s friendly, but he’d make one dish with the honey and my Mom would start asking questions. I’m betting that I can get meat under the table without much questioning though.”

”Surely…" She paused. She didn’t know how controlling his mother or the temple was. If her mom found out she’d probably laugh, and say that it would fail.
”You only mean stay far away from them business wise, right? You don’t mean… in everything? I really don’t mind, I don’t want you to just cut everything off for something that might not- Well, don’t do that for me. I can handle it being in my life for you."

Probably. There was some sick, twisted thought deep down that would have liked that. If he cut it all off, then he’d only have her. Then he wouldn’t leave her, would he? But she suppressed that. She was selfish and resentful, but not like that. She… didn’t want to become the truly bad person some thought she was.

”You know who my family is, right? Last time I checked we run the city. I talk to my brother, get his support or whatever, and it’ll be untouchable.” Probably. She didn’t really know if this was just about the business anymore, or their whole life… But she definitely couldn’t move away to a place where it was only them and the bees in some kind of natural paradise.
”We’ll… do what you think is best, though. I don’t know them. But it’ll be really hard to hide from your mom either way, right? We might as well use the resources- Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the questions and intrusions."

She just felt like she was saying words now, not knowing if it got her point across, but hopefully he could see the earnestness in her expression. Like she thought they could make it work.

”Well, untouchable as in you’ve got infinite money to fund lawyers and bankroll politicians to make things difficult for normal people. You can hire a private eye to tail someone, or get a hacker to forward someone’s emails to you so you can snoop. But is your brother Magic? Can he teleport into a locked concrete bunker underneath a hundred and fifteen feet of granite bedrock and blow you to smithereens by screaming something stupid like ‘Get off my lawn’?”

Yes, Staff Sergeant Willaby was always quite a character like that. Casey really only had the trauma of his Mother neglecting him. It was only recently that she’d taken any interest in his life in the first place.

”The cats know who you are. I can’t lie to my Mom, because the cats already know the truth, and I’m sure they’re still listening to us right now, right-”
He held out his finger toward the sliding false wall, at the corner closest to where they were sat.
From the other side, there was some muffled voices. It was absolutely the cats. Two little paws bashed their way underneath, almost waving at them and exactly from the direction that Casey had pointed. For a moment their furry arms wiggled around, then retracted altogether.
”-right fuckin’ there!” he exclaimed in frustration. ”There’s no fucking peace in this place! None!”

His eyes were a little tired looking. He was tired of it, so it was only natural. ”My life’s been a narcissist’s toy for twenty-five years. And when she finds out that your last name is Vanburen, she’s going to bomb you with love like you’re her favourite person. She’ll buy you things and get you comfortable so she can start asking favours, and then when she knows everything she needs to know about you, she’ll try and make your world her world. And once she’s done that, she’ll start demanding things from you. She did it to my Sister’s ex-husband, she did it to Hari in the other room, she’ll do it again and she’ll try and do it to you. I just know it, Trish… Remember when I was talking about secrets? I don’t want us to get there. Where we’re just waiting for the ball to drop.”

That was a lot to take in. From the bunker blowing up, to the cat’s fucking paws sticking through the wall, to… his mom. No wonder he didn’t want her involved. But there was no avoiding it if the cats already knew, and it would then get to his mom. They couldn’t just cut everything off and run… She couldn’t.
”What can she buy me that I don’t already have? I’m not trying to dismiss it but… You know, my dad used to buy us things because he didn’t have time for us. People buying stuff for me has the opposite effect. It doesn’t make me feel loved. That won’t work on me."

She shook her head, twisting around so she was properly facing him and wrapping her arms around his midsection.
”If she’s going to find out anyway… Well, it’ll be fine. I know that you’re just concerned. It’s not the same, but I have experience in… conditional love. The kind of love you get because someone wants you to be something, and they force you to be that way. I don’t-" trust that anyone would actually love me. But she couldn’t say that. She couldn’t say she’d never be comfortable, no matter how much someone bombed her with love. ”I don’t want to get there either, but we won’t. If you don’t want me to meet your mom, if you want me to avoid her completely, I’ll do that. But I wouldn’t let her in."

She spoke confidently, even though she had very little confidence internally that it would even matter… That he would put up with her long enough for it to even become a problem. That they’d be together long enough to reach that point.

Casey looked a little dejected, but he didn’t think it was right to take away an opportunity for her to at least see if she really wanted something like the burden of his family. They were, if anything, close; he figured from what she’d been saying, that maybe it would be something she’d appreciate. For how much he didn’t trust his younger sister, she was ultimately a good, if not self-destructive, soul. Same with Leon, at least he was willing to stand by you when you needed it most. Though maybe she knew a different side of him at the end of the day.

”Honestly, until I came home Kindled, I’m pretty sure Lynette forgot I existed. Even now she still… I guess, I’m kind of afraid that she’s going to all of a sudden have a reason to pay attention to me like she does Leon. I’ve seen what she does to him, saw how she would treat him as a boy. Even if I wanted attention, I mean… Who wants it like that? She treats him like a little kid until he does something wrong, and then it’s fire and brimstone until he ‘makes it right’.”
Casey finally shrugged, leaning into Trisha and resting his head on her shoulder. He hugged her close.

”Who knows. I seriously don’t, the last one of us that had a significant other was Elise, and those two are divorced now. Not that we’re getting married, just… I can’t help but think that she had something to do with it.”

Trisha reached up and rested her hand on Casey's head, gently rubbing his scalp. She twisted around so her legs hooked over his. ”I didn't know it was like that for Leon, maybe I was too harsh on him ten years ago- I always got pissed off when he started trying to be some enforcer, but I see where it came from… well, that doesn't matter just now."

She tilted her head to lean it against his.
”I can see why you're worried, if your sister got divorced. Even if it was your mom, that doesn't mean she'll be able to get between us. I don't want to let her- and you've told me all of this. I'm not going in blind. I promise, I won't let her get to me. But it won't even be a problem- if there was a Vanburen pecking order, I'm right down at the bottom. I don't have much power, so I doubt it'll be that tempting to your mom."

Trisha took his hands, squeezing them and turning her head awkwardly to look at him again with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
”And if it doesn't work out, and what you're worrying about starts to happen, we can just run away and get a little field somewhere with the bees, away from everything."

Casey blinked slowly, looking into Trisha’s eyes softly.
”You’re… You’re great.”
He tucked in a little closer, big hands rubbing her back and cradling her so he could lean back. He turned a little so that she had the back of the couch and him to lay against. It was a warm little nook. She’d be able to feel his feet moving around until his hands slipped a bit and rolled the blanket up over both of them.

”Can we just stay like this? You can’t imagine how lonely some places get…”
He was talking about places like they were in. Home, where if he hadn’t been attacked by the cats daily, the rest of the family probably never would’ve known he was there. Where it was him and his own thoughts echoing again and again about how he was never going to be good enough for anything.

At least he was good enough to kill for his country. He found out you didn’t have to be “good” to be good enough then. There was always the idea that he had to be some sort of noble hero like his Father was. Or like he wanted them to think he was, at least. He caught a lot of shit for being some goodie two-shoed fuck, and he got absolutely blasted by every drill sergeant he met during basic…

Because he thought that’s what Men were supposed to be.
”How’d you get so cool? Born with it?” he asked her quietly, as if they were really all alone.
Casey had a safe space. It was imaginary, of course, but he thought about them being there. No blanket, just the warm air rolling across the island beach in the middle of nothingness in the ocean.

”Who says we can’t just stay like this?" Trisha smiled softly, lying against his check. It was warm and comfortable and… safe. She really did feel like she could stay here forever, in his arms and covered by the blanket. Because, she did know how lonely places could get. Loneliness was studying in her room while her siblings played outside, yet their grades resulted in praise and hers in scolding. It was days left alone at her mom’s house during the only month they had together because she had academic conferences. It was never quite belonging anywhere, and her only proper company being bees.

But she wasn’t going to open up about that. She just smiled warmly and snuggled up against him, happy to be content for once.
”Mm, if I tell you all my secrets, I won’t be able to let you live," Trisha said softly, eyes filling with warm laughter. ”My coolness is all hard work, I definitely wasn’t born with it. I was a loud, annoying baby - the opposite of cool. I became this cool through sheer will."

She grinned, reaching up to tap his nose. ”Maybe it’ll start to rub off on you, and you’ll become as cool as me."

Casey laughed quietly, holding her tighter as he did so.
”Woah, hey… Easy. I’m very fucking cool.” he grinned at her still chuckling.
”And you can test me. I’ll pass the cool test every time. Someone taught me how to.”

Of course it was ol’ Commissar. The Warrant Three he’d been tasked under once he’d made it that far in was a man who didn’t flinch in danger, and didn’t shy away from telling people how he felt about things. But he wasn’t evil, nor was he cruel. Warrant Officer Comstadt was a Father, a Husband, a Leader who you never questioned. It was respect, that he would know what was best because that was his job.

And he was an Abberant. He had an awful, evil, zealous spirit inside him that claimed to be a vengeful angel from God. And it would send him into awful rages and fits that he couldn’t control. But nobody cared, because Comstadt had earned his position. They respected him, and they could separate him as a man and a leader from the spirit inside that made him a killer and a butcher.

To Casey, that’s what cool was. At least, his ideal cool. Trish was a close second though. He really liked her…

”Oh really?" Trisha leaned her head back slightly to give him an assessing look. Her attempt was broken a bit by a soft giggle. She didn’t… actually know what the cool test was, but it sounded ridiculous. Surely if you had to take a test to prove that you were cool, you weren’t really cool anymore?

”What’s-" she yawned before she could get further, surprising herself. She was just a little sleepy, mostly from the warmth of the blanket and being hugged so close. The comfort of it. ”What’s the cool test? You see, I’m so cool I never had to take a test… So show me how it’s done and prove that you're so cool, Case."

Casey grinned widely at her, biting his lip slightly to give a very sassy look at Trisha.
”Alright, cool.”

He jerked his head forward slightly, like he was in a bar acknowledging some other cool guy. Then he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. That was it.

Internally, Casey beamed at himself, his own baited joke echoing in his head. What else did she think he was going to do? What else could one do except be… Cool…

Trisha snorted, laughter escaping her lips at the ridiculousness of his actions. She didn’t entirely get it, wasn’t sure there was anything to get, but she did find it funny. Maybe not cool, but entertaining.

”Yeah, very cool," she giggled, slowly and carefully moving her own head forward. ”Sooo cool, wow, I just can’t hold back."

Then she darted in, pressing her lips against his in what she’d decided was a sneak attack. She let it linger for just a moment, but didn’t push for anything more as she pulled back slightly, smiling teasingly.
”That’s a reward for passing the test."