[hr][hr][center][img]https://s3.postimg.org/50tlljshf/horrors_of_cove.png[/img][hr][img]https://i.giphy.com/VCcPaQcrIo01y.gif[/img][hr][@Nallore][@Witch Cat][@Pundii][@FantasyChic][/center][hr][hr][i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016[/color] - Coventry Horrors, Lobby[/b][/i]

	It's not use. No matter what Emmie tries, Andromeda continues to gasp, blood flowing from her eyes, ears, and mouth. Andromeda collapses on the floor, convulsing as if having a seizure, only able to mutter, [color=9999ff]"brown bag...hex bag..."[/color] over and over again. Her movements then slow, until it appears all of her breathing has ceased, and that death has claimed her. But just as her eyes start to close, Andromeda gasped, sitting straight up. 

	[color=9999ff]"I'm...I'm okay,"[/color] Andromeda assured Emmie, hastily wiping the blood off of herself. [color=9999ff]"That must have been a warning..."[/color] she surmised, slowly rising to her feet. The pain and torture was all gone, but she still felt shaky, taking a moment to catch her breath. Smiling weakly at Emmie, she realized the girl likely didn't have a clue what was going on. 

	[color=9999ff]"That was a hex bag...Witches use them, they activate a spell and it kills their target. The only way to stop them is for the spell to cease or...to burn the bag."[/color] Andromeda then crouched down, reaching underneath the desk, as she felt her hand around. Eventually, she stood up straight, holding a [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/67/ca/ca/67cacabebf37d5af30665440850d8aca.jpg]brown bag[/url] in her hand. [color=9999ff]"Probably best to burn this."[/color] She then stepped towards the candles kept on the desk, all to add to the spooky vibe of the hotel, of course. Picking up one candle, Andromeda carefully set the bag on fire, watching as a blue flame quickly appeared. 

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016[/color] - Coventry Horrors, Seventh Floor[/b][/i]

	Agent Keenan shakes his head a bit, putting his phone away. Seems no one was answering, or it wasn't any use at that point. "Figures--moment I need one of those nut jobs, they ain't answerin'." As to who he's speaking about, it isn't instantly clear. But more importantly, as Seraphina moves to close the wardrobe, the portal increased rapidly. Her grip on the wardrobe doors allowed her to hold on, but...

	[color=00ffcc]"LIAM!!!!"[/color] Aloise cried out, seeing as the Prophet of the Lord, her dearest friend, was sucked into the void. She threw her hand out, attempting to grab him, but it was to not avail. He was gone, and the wardrobe slammed shut definitively. Staring in shock, Aloise rushed to open it up again, but Agent Keenan threw himself in front of her. 

	"It's not safe!" Keenan protested. 

	[color=00ffcc]"Move over!"[/color] Aloise threatened with a glare. This wasn't something she was going to budge on. 

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 2016[/color] - Cirque Anomaly[/b][/i]

	Strong looks a bit weary and apprehensive, and he shakes his head, gripping his hat in his hands. It's obvious that he's unsettled by what has truly sent him to see Lilith, beyond the death sentence placed on Folly's head. He opens his mouth, but words fail him the moment he looks into Lilith's eyes. He shakes his head again, before letting out a sigh. "I can't ask this of ya, Lilith. What the elders want you to do...it'll put a stain on your soul."

	A confused expression then comes over his face. He sniffs a bit, and a moment later, the reasoning is evident. Smoke hangs in the air. Not from Lilith's tent, but from another's. "Do you smell that?" he asks, but there was no need to. Peeking his head outside of Lilith's tent, Strong is taken aback for a moment, stunned by how palpable the heat is. "Valeska was in there....Damnit, Boris." 

	The central tent of the circus is engulfed in flames. 

[i][b][color=9999ff]December 28th, 1929[/color] - Coventry Horrors, Attic[/b][/i]

	Folly gave Eudora a quizzical look again, wondering how thick the witch was. She was born in the twenty-first century. To her, the future was the present. But she supposed it could be the witch going senile--that tended to happen in old age, and witches could live for a terribly long time. Though as to whether or not she wanted revenge...at the moment, Folly felt more concerned with staying alive. 

	"Right now, I'm mostly concerned about avoiding the electric chair," Folly explained. "And I'm [i]not[/i] a murderer either--if you want one of those, just talk to my father." She huffed a bit. Teenage angst, maybe? But as she turned her head, her scarf shifted, revealing a neatly disguised and lengthy scar on her neck, as if someone had attempted to slice it open. Tapping her foot a bit, she seemed to be in the midst of making a decision. 

	"The demon's name is...He calls himself [i]M[/i]," Folly said, though it was clear she was holding back something. "That's all I know, got it?!" 

	Of course, the conversation will be cut short, as a Prophet of the Lord (Liam) falls out of the wardrobe, and onto the floor.