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4 yrs ago
Done with uni forever, whoo
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5 yrs ago
Constantly dead from uni and physical health shit
6 yrs ago
I've got the flu, so responses are gonna be slow
6 yrs ago
I actually have some time to roleplay, for once
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7 yrs ago
Exams are happening.

Bio


They/He|UK(GMT)
Character Archive



Mid 20s. Been here a long time, generally only join friend's rps. Constantly tired. Masc nonbinary, preference for they pronouns but he are ok too!

Most Recent Posts



Interactions: The Cold, Hard Ground, Auri @Punished GN, Jasper/Lila @NoriWasHere
Kari’s House, Patio


Luca got a reply from Jacqueline pretty quickly, which he opened immediately.

From Jacqueline: We can talk later. You and Sycamore need to get out of there now! Emily is about to attack you all at Kari’s house.

Shit. Luca’s control slipped and the phone disintegrated in his fingers, blowing away as dark specks in the light breeze. He’d need to transfer his number again, then get her number back on it and text her- No, fuck! That wasn’t important right now! He needed to warn everyone!

Luca shot to his feet, wincing as shooting pains travelled up from his feet all the way to his knees. He stumbled, gritting his teeth and spinning around to shout to Auri and Jasper.

Then he was thrown into another recollection.

He came out of it disoriented. 8th Street had Kari's notes. Whoever destroyed them didn't do it well enough, it was easy for Carol to recover them. But why did 8th Street take them? Why did they need them? Couldn't Jacqueline's book just get them all that information? Shit, the attack-

”We need to go, Emily is-”

Jack appeared out of nowhere, delivering a near identical message. Luca, still reeling from the recollection and physical pain, let out a shocked squeaked. He took a stumbling step forward- and tripped over his own feet, crashing into the ground with a pained cry. He managed to protect his face with his arms, landing not so badly that he broke anything... But there were harsh cuts all over his hands and he could feel the oozing, sticky blood across his arms, legs and torso. It was like his skin had ripped everywhere it touched the ground. Fuck.

”Lynn's vision is right,” he said weakly to the others outside the house, just lying on the ground. He didn't have the strength to get up immediately. ”8th Street are coming.”


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


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.”


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


"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.”


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


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?


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


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.”
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.


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


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?”



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


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.”


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


”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.”



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?”


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.





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.


& 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.”
@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
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