Atrophy

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” grunted Ezra, hands still up in surrender.

“I hope your wrist feels better,” said Nisha in response to Arabelle’s take care, already forgetting that it was Arabelle’s shoulder that was injured now that her mark was here.

Fortunately, her words were muffled as she pressed herself into Ezra’s chest, so it was likely that they didn’t even understand what she’d uttered. The door to the ambulance closed, the sirens whined, and the vehicle drove off. Nisha felt Ezra’s hands slowly shift down to wedge her away from him, but she only tightened her grip. Was she coming out seeming a bit too desperate and clingy? Sure, probably, but pride be damned, it typically worked with men, although typically she wasn’t pretending to be related to them. Nisha dialed it back and let go of Ezra.

“S-sorry,” Ooooh, forced stutter? Now that was a smooth move. Keep it up, Nisha! It almost sounded natural, too. She brushed a stray bit of hair behind her ears and extended her hand. “I got a little too excited. I’m Nisha. Pleased to meet you.”

“Ezra Vanburen. It’s good to meet you,” he said, taking her hand. It was a solid shake, but the flatness of his tone made it impossible to tell if he was being sincere. She locked eyes with him and found herself looking away. It wasn’t to be cutesy, either. She had been trying to get a read on the guy, but he looked like he was seeing right through her—like he had already called her on her own bullshit the second he’d touched her hand. She didn’t want to give away more than he had already taken. Hell, looking away probably had given him all he needed. She dragged her teeth against her lower lip. She could feel his eyes still on her. This was getting uncomfortable. Why wasn’t he saying anything else?

“Nice wea—”

“Let’s talk in the car,” said Ezra as he walked past her.

Alarm bells rang in Nisha’s head as she realized she was about to get in a vehicle with a total stranger. How many murder mysteries began with a beautiful young woman trusting an older white man? Of course, how many victims were inhabited by a water hag and capable of projecting spectral arms out from their body? Nisha figured the crossover was zilch. She ignored what little common sense she possessed and jumped into the car, taken aback by Ezra’s lame ride. Maybe the Vanburens weren’t so rich after all. He fired up the vehicle and drove away.

“So, James Vanburen is your father?” asked Ezra, the doors locking with the question.

“Well, I never knew my father. I really hope so, but—”

“It’s a simple yes or no,” interrupted Ezra.

“I was told he was,” said Nisha, glancing over at Ezra. He was keeping his eyes on the road.

“By whom?”

“My mother,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh. She was about to spin a fairytale story about how her mother always told her that her father was some rich and powerful man and how she never had believed her, but Ezra was already onto the next question. There was no chance to even build a narrative into what was quickly turning into an interview.

“And her name is?”

“Amara Reddy.” Shit! She’d used her mom’s real name. “Why all—”

“You’re accent...you’re from Liverpool?”

Nisha’s eyes brightened and she answered before she could even think to lie. “Wow, impressive. Close enough, yeah. Have you—”

“You’re, what, twenty-five?”

“Wow again,” said Nisha, accidentally revealing the truth. “Yeah, turned it a few months ago.”

“When exactly?”

“September twenty-ninth,” said Nisha, furrowing her brow.

“And has your mother ever been to Ara—”

“Hey, what the fuck! What’s with all the questions? You gonna ask my blood type next, see if you can harvest my organs? ” shouted Nisha, glaring at Ezra. It was the first time he glanced over at her, and then back to the road. “I might be your fucking sister, and you’re interoggating me like I committed a crime. What is your fucking deal?”

Brakes screeched as the car swerved over to the side of the road and came to a stop. Nisha held her breath and watched as Ezra shifted the gear into park and killed the engine, his eyes focused dead ahead as the corner of his lip twitched. Crap, he was going to throw her out of the car. She had blown it. She had really blown it. She glanced outside. They were away from the crowds, away from the shops. She felt a tingle in the back of her skull. She gritted her teeth. No, she hadn’t pressed all her options yet. Maybe she could—

“I’m sorry, Miss Nisha. If you honestly believe that James Vanburen was your father then I realize that the prospect of meeting his family and being accepted in is truly exciting, but for me this has become rote. I should’ve begun with this explanation, but I had a really trying morning and I have seemed to have forgotten myself,” Ezra said as he sighed and looked over at her. It no longer looked like he was trying to analyze her, but it was difficult for her to tell if he looked remorseful or if he was just distracted.

“Let me explain—you are not the first stranger to show up to Araminta claiming that my father is your father. You’re not even the first one this year. Since I can remember, people have been showing up saying that they’re a Vanburen or that their kid is a Vanburen. Sometimes, it’s true, but my father was a very magnanimous man—and a very, um, active man—and people tended to take advantage of that fact. It’s not that we don’t want more members of the family, it’s just that we cannot afford to be one hundred percent trustworthy. So he developed a system when a stranger shows up claiming to be kin. It has proven to take care of most claims almost instantly, as most of them are false. It’s only one question,” said Ezra, who unbuckled his seatbelt and turned so he didn’t have to crane his neck. “Do you actually think you are family, or do you just want something?”

Nisha was about to answer when Ezra held up his hand to stop her. “I am only looking for honesty here, Nisha. My father wasn’t the only generous man in our family. If you need something—money, shelter, anything—I can provide it for you. Trust me, I am not lacking in resources or in wealth, but like my father I know that the most valuable thing a man can have is connections. If I help you today, one day you might be called upon to help me. Look at me.” Nisha looked at him. It was suspicious how genuine he seemed. “This isn’t a trick. I can provide for you, if you need it. So, do you want to be part of the family, or do you just want something?”

It was tempting, but more than that it was insulting: did he think she was a fucking idiot? If she asked for money he would’ve kicked her out of the car. Besides, she wanted more than just money—the payday was just an added bonus.

“I hope I can be part of the family, but I feel like I’m not wanted,” said Nisha. Cue the sniffling nose, the watering eyes, all made easier by the lingering smell of cigarette smoke messing with her senses. Disgusting little things, but they helped force the acting. She swore she even saw Ezra frown, perhaps upset at himself from making her cry, the thought that he was possibly annoyed not even crossing her mind.

“Your timing was just poor, but that’s not your fault. As long as you aren’t trying anything funny, this will be good for you,” said Ezra, turning the engine back on. Nisha didn’t dare ask what would happen if she was trying anything funny, feeling as if it would be too much of a giveaway. “Whether he is or isn’t your father you’re going to find some closure. I’ll explain how things are going to go while we’re on the way to the hospital. How are you with needles?”

“Needles?” choked Nisha, worried for a moment that Ezra might have been able to probe her mind and dig into his past. His employee had powers; did he as well?

“Well, yeah. How else are they going to draw your blood for the DNA test?” He must’ve seen her face tense, because he laughed and shook his head. “Relax, I’m just kidding.”

“Had me going,” chuckled Nisha, trying to stop her heart from exploding.

“Pretty sure they use the swabs now...” muttered Ezra, merging back into traffic as he headed towards the hospital.

…shit.

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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Ezra drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding a cigarette near the barely cracked window to keep the smoke from soaking into the leather, and a bluetooth headset jammed into his ear. The car itself was nothing fancy, a standard suburban sedan with good gas mileage and a high safety rating. It wasn’t the kind of car that made people think one of the wealthiest men in town was behind the wheel, but that was kind of the point. Ostentatious displays of wealth really wasn’t Ezra’s style. Shoved into the console of the car was a brown paper bag that contained the knife that had been jammed into the chest of one of the Wiccans, still wet with the victim’s blood. Once he checked with Arabelle and picked up Nisha he had an errand to run.

“Hey Anne, it’s Ezra. I’m going to need to call in a favor and use that lab of yours. Preferably without anyone else knowing about it. Ring me back when you can,” he said as he sped through a yellow light as it turned red.

He heard sirens coming from behind him and grimaced. Even though he insisted against it the police typically turned a blind eye when a Vanburen did something outside of the law, but he had definitely gone through the light before it had been red. He pulled over to the side of the road and watched as an ambulance drove by instead, headed the same way he was. Ezra pulled back into the thoroughfare with the intent to follow behind the ambulance the full way to his destination.

Instead, he hit the red light. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel as he flicked the cigarette out the window and watched with narrowed eyes as a battalion of Christmas shoppers marched across the street right as the crosswalk countdown timer started. By the time the little old granny holding up the rearguard was no longer in front of his fender, the light had hit another red. Ezra banged his head against the back of the driver’s seat, lit another cigarette, and gunned it the minute green flashed.

By the time Ezra made it to Café, Oh Yay the lights on the ambulance had been killed, the backdoor was open, and he could see an EMT in a blue uniform grabbing hold of Arabelle’s arm and pushing. He hurriedly chucked the cigarette out of the car, even though it was clear from the expression on Arabelle’s face that she was distracted by the lady popping her shoulder back into place. He pulled past the ambulance and found a place to park next to the curb, leaving the window open to air out the evidence. As he approached the ambulance a young Indian woman in a tracksuit swished up towards him with a look of determination, her mouth opening to speak.

“About time! Oh it is so nice to finally see you in the flesh, brother. Thank you for coming for me, I—”

“Excuse me, miss,” said Ezra without stopping. He didn’t see the woman’s jaw drop as his hand brushed her shoulder to prevent the two of them from colliding as he deftly stepped around her to check in on his employee. He looked from the EMT to Arabelle down to the skull. It looked identical to the weird one dad kept in his study. He pulled his gaze away from the oddity back towards the women. “How is she? Are you okay? Did one…”

“Brother!”

“She dislocated her shoulder from her fall but I was able to secure it back in place,” said the EMT. A look of relief washed over Ezra’s face before it faded back to its usual calm, although it was difficult to tell if he was relieved because Arabelle wasn’t badly harmed or because Arabelle had kept the attack on the mansion underwraps. “While she should be fine and, technically, I am not allowed to force her to go, it’s standard procedure to take her to the hospital just to make sure that there was no last damage to any ligaments.”

“Better to be safe—”“Brother!?”“—don’t you agree, Ms. Matthews? I could meet your at the hospital and pick you up after they run a checkup, but it’s your call. Just—”“EZRA!!”“—what!?”

As he shouted, Ezra turned to see the same lady in the tracksuit rushing towards him. He instinctively seized up as she practically leapt from the sidewalk and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a surprisingly tight hug. He gave Arabelle a look of wild confusion that shifted to discomfort to fear as he realized the lady was not going to let go. He could’ve sworn he heard muffled cries coming from where the stranger had buried her head into his chest as he tried to squirm free from the hug, the stranger’s grip only tightening.

_“What?” was all Ezra was able to eek out. Hopefully, Arabelle knew what the hell was going on and had a trick to getting this psycho out of his personal bubble—a hope that was quickly fading away as the EMT moved to close one of the doors on the back of the EMT.

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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Nisha’s eyebrows jumped as Arabelle mentioned there being a break-in at the Vanburen house. She imagined if one of the richest families in the town got burgled then the whole damn police force would’ve gone to their house, but she didn’t recall hearing any sirens when she had waited. Plus, Ezra had sounded fairly calm for someone who had just been robbed. Was Arabelle pulling her leg? Nisha’s gutcheck was a firm no, but her gut wasn’t always on her side. She gave Arabelle a shrug and helped her with the bathroom door.

“Wow, that’s pretty wild. Hopefully you gave that wannabe thug a little one-two”—Nisha gave the air in front of her a gut shot and an uppercut—“in return. Sorry about your shoulder, though. I had that happen to me once—oh, not get it dislocated by a robber, just dislocated—and it hurt like a mother. Gyah. It was like three or four years ago. Funnily enough, it happened in a bathroom too, see I was...”

Nisha walked beside Arabelle as she led her through the somewhat crowded cafe, oversharing a story that a person normally wouldn’t tell a total stranger unless they were working on their fourth margarita after their third divorce. Midwestern mothers turned their heads as Nisha regaled an unfortunate Arabelle with gratuitous details regarding an on-the-clock bathroom tryst that was cut short when Nisha had slipped and fell on the bathroom floor thanks to the piss that was everywhere from some old drunk. The two woman exited the building and stepped out into the cool winter air to wait for the ambulance as Nisha wrapped up, “And so then what this idiot does is, this idiot picks me up off of the ground, see my dislocated shoulder, and decides to fix it by slamming me into the wall like in that one movie. The crazy thing is, it worked! So there I am with a totally fucked and then unfucked shoulder, almost in a complete blackout, smelling like a month old urinal cake, and he tries to go back in for some more— ”

A dangerous look flashed across Nisha’s face, “You know what? We could just slam your shoulder back into place. Hospitals always ask too many questions and are so judgmental. Make it seem like it's your fault for breaking your ankle when you just barely miss the jump from your friend’s rooftop to their above-ground pool. How ab...”

Thankfully, Nisha’s words were drowned out by the sounds of the ambulance pulling up, giving Arabelle the opportunity to escape from what was quickly becoming a hostage situation as a somewhat disappointed Nisha flagged the EMTs over.

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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Nisha grinned as Arabelle grew annoyed by her antics, a grin that was quickly slapped off of her face when she insisted that she call Ezra. The way Arabelle said it made Nisha feel like she was being called out for having a bogus story, which was worrisome when it was a bogus story. As fast as it went away the smile was back, like it had just orbited her head at rapid speeds, as Nisha thought of a brilliant plan to keep up the lie while avoiding suspicion. The plan was to tell the truth. Part of it, anyway. Nisha pulled her phone out of her pocket and shook it back and forth.

“Sorry, batteries dead. Would have no signal either way.” So there had been a silver lining for her forgetting how cellphones and power outlets worked abroad after all. It was wonderful how these things worked out. However, she was certain that Arabelle would bolt right past her if she didn’t try to help, and she didn’t want to burn anyone associated with the Vanburens yet. “But I can still get in touch with him. Follow me!”

Without waiting for Arabelle to follow, Nisha barged through the door of the bathroom and stormed the front desk of the cafe. Before Cherry could even protest Nisha hopped over the counter, grabbed the phone, and hit the redial.

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By the time Ezra had recovered from being lifted by a tidal wave, phased through Alexander, slammed into Georgie, and washed back towards the dining room he had almost missed seeing the entity outside. All he heard was the sound of distant laughter, a crackle of thunder, Georgie shouting at Oscar, and a nightmarish creation blipping out of existence from the corner of his eyes. He let out a low and ragged breath as he approached the broken windows, cold air biting him as it pierce through his damp clothing, and looked outside. His eyes watered as they were stung by a light breeze, all that remained of the sudden storm. There was nothing else. Terrifying.

As the family and one of the experts filtered back into the dining room and it became clear the nutjobs had fled, Ezra took time to take care of his damp clothes by casting Masterpiece on them. The moment the spell was finished the article of clothing was completely dry, although it did nothing to mend the tears in the fabric or help with the bumps and bruises on his own body. Still, he no longer had to worry about getting a cold from the draft in the dining room. He didn’t bother assisting the others in drying their clothes. They were adults, they could see to it that they didn’t get pneumonia. Moments before everyone was accounted for Ezra excused himself, passing by Tuyen as he disappeared down the secret passage.

He made it back just as Justin and Tuyen began their official investigation. Ezra slicked back his wet hair, coughed, and found his favorite spot on the wall. Thank god it was still standing; he would’ve had a panic attack otherwise. Ezra smiled slightly as Justin asked if the Vanburens had any enemies, a smile that faded as Sabrina suggested it was the Harrisburgs and looked at him. He noted her nervousness. Did she think he’d jump on her for suggesting that the Harrisburgs would love to see the Vanburens ruined just because they were his mother’s family? He knew for a fact they would love for something like this to happen precisely because they were his mother’s family. Only if it was them, they would’ve hired more competent goons—and more likely, they would’ve tried to publicly humiliate them and financially ruin them instead of something as boorish as murder them with giant dogs.

Trisha suggested that maybe it was one of the Vanburens themselves who had cursed all of them. Ezra folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at his half-sister, perhaps in admiration for her bravery to go right out there and say it. Who benefited the most from all of the abroad Vanburens turning to statues but another Vanburen? The less siblings for them the more money they got from inheritance. Only if that was the plan it had then catastrophically failed, for as far as Ezra knew all of his siblings had avoided their ill fate. Thus, the need to escalate by hiring a bunch of whack jobs to rough everyone up under the guise of retrieving their stolen property...or perhaps by actually stealing their property to make them come attack the family.

“I think it’s safe to say Mr. Liao that if any of us had an idea of where the curse originated from then you would not be here,” said Ezra, managing to sound more matter-of-fact than harsh. “The only thing I can say for certain is that before the curse our house wasn’t such a hotbed for weird activity. Besides that attack today, we were robbed a few weeks ago. I don’t know if they were related, or if it would have anything to do with our curse, but to me those outsiders seem like the only thread we can pull on. We track them down, maybe we get some answers. Fortunately, I have a surefire way to find out who is in this cult of yours. See—”

A pained expression crossed Ezra’s face as his phone went off. He had definitely silenced it. The damn thing was haunted. He pulled out the phone, ready to turn it off, but balked when he saw the caller—it was the cafe. He had completely forgotten about his alleged sibling that had arrived in town. He held up his index finger to put Justin on pause and answered his phone, “I’m sorry, things are running long. Could you tell her—who? Are you serious? Get an ambulance; I’ll cover it. I’ll be there in a minute to pick up the girl. Bye.”

Ezra hung up the phone and looked up at his family, “Arabelle’s injured. I’m going to make sure she’s okay. Don’t destroy the house while I’m gone and call me if anything pressing comes up. I shouldn’t be long.”

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On the other end of the line, Nisha had said: “Ezra, it’s me. Your maid is here at the cafe and she’s injured. It looks bad. Call an ambulance? Of course. Yes, I’ll tell her.” Ezra hung up, but she continued talking,. “Of course, brother. Well, the coffee was fantastic but the service...no nevermind, I’ll tell you about it when you get here.” She faked a laugh, caught Cherry’s eyes, and quickly glanced away, “Oh I know, you were totally right about her. Yes, that’d probably be the best call for the store. Of course. I love you too. Can’t wait to see you again. Goodbye.”

Nisha pretended to hang up the already ended phone call and chucked the phone at Cherry, who looked as if she had started to deflate. Instantly, she perked up as Nisha barked, “Are you stupid, woman? Ezra said to call an ambulance.” She clapped her hands together. “Chop chop.”

Cherry jumped to it as Nisha walked around the countertop, deftly snagging two cookies as she heard the woman’s voice behind her speaking to the operator. She scarfed one down as she moved to rejoin Arabelle. In the distance, she swore she could already hear a siren. Nisha pushed open the door to the bathroom, gave the woman a wink, and held out the cookie as a peace offering as she said, “I have taken care of everything. An ambulance is coming with your name on it and my brother is on his way. So…”Arabelle clearly wasn’t in a talking mood, but Nisha couldn’t help herself. “How’d you fuck up your shoulder?”

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

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Vashti was thankful for the sheer terror brought upon by the wendigos that rampaged outside the clothing store she and Emily had hidden in. It forced the two to be absolutely silent, and the adrenaline that shot through her body anytime there was a loud crash negated whatever other tension she would’ve normally felt being stuck in a changing room with a girl who absolutely hated her. Rightfully so, too, at least in Vashti’s mind. She avoided eye contact with Emily and let her scarf hang low over her face. Earlier, as they passed by the mirror, she had seen her own reflection; already, her body was reverting back to the way it was before the Leviathan’s curse. Still, it was difficult to be happy when she could either die from a wendigo or from Emily’s withering stare at any second.

Vashti had almost screamed when the door to the changing room rattled before she recognized Madison’s voice. Madison told them that it was all over, but it didn’t feel that way for Vashti. Sure, her curse was cured and the monster that had been rampaging through all of Florida was no more, but as she watched Emily get scooped up by Madison she could only feel like it was a hollow victory. She allowed Madison to lead her away, and as the adrenaline faded Vashti realized she felt absolutely exhausted. They moved past ransacked buildings and shredded bodies and burning cars. She had thought the Leviathan had been a threat, but compared to this it was nothing.

She asked Madison to not bring her back to the others, but insisted that she wasn’t abandoning the Coven just because she had been cured. She doubted Madison actually believed her, but she obliged Vashti either way. Vashti had a goal, two of them actually, but she didn’t have a plan for either. The solution to the first was fairly easy: she found a place to stay at a storm shelter. The amount of other people there was alarmingly small, and already wild stories were popping up over what exactly had happened to the city, none of which were as crazy as the truth. Still, she found a place to sleep, but before she went to bed she did something she hadn’t done since being cursed: she called her mom.

The phone rang as Vashti sat on the edge of the cot inside of the basketball stadium and chewed on her lip. Her dad had stopped reaching out to her even before she had started ignoring them, but despite his coldness he still covered her accounts and paid her cards off in full every month. Maybe he just forgot to cancel the autopayments. The phone continued to ring. Her mom had kept trying to reach out to her, although the calls got less and less frequent as time went on. The last time they had spoken Vashti had gone off on her mom about how she hated how controlling they had been as parents, how she wanted to be her own person, and how she didn’t need them. Really, she was just being a self-centered brat, and now she just wanted to let her mom know that she was sorry and that she was alive.

The ringing stopped early and it went to voicemail. The call had been ignored. She tried calling again, but immediately it went to voicemail. Blocked. Vashti chuckled, shook her head, wiped her tears, and set the phone down in her lap. She looked at the reflection of the overhead lights on the waxed floor and then flopped back into the cot to stare at them directly. She didn’t blame her mom. If anything, the treatment was deserved. Forgiveness should be earned. Besides, it got the message out: I’m alive. She continued to stare at the lights until her eyes hurt. Shutting them, she watched the fireworks explode as she drifted off to sleep.

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Vashti didn’t lie to Madison. Three days later, she went to join with the Coven at the top secret DENS base. A part of her felt like it was the stupidest thing she could possibly have done. As the Leviathan, she had not only destroyed government property but had attacked a couple of their agents. Still, if they decided to arrest her then so be it: that was what she deserved. Before, she would’ve said it wasn’t her fault, but really she could’ve done more to prevent the things the Leviathan had done. What if she’d gone to the authorities in the first place? They likely wouldn’t have believed her at first, but it’d be hard to ignore the evidence after the first time she changed.

Still, at the time her mind had been filled with conspiracy theories and hoaxes. She thought the government likely would’ve just experimented on her. Maybe it had been a wild thought at the time, but considering that she was now going to a meeting at a top secret government facility where their team of supernatural hunters operated out of then maybe it hadn’t been such a farfetched idea after all. If anything, it reinforced further asinine ideas and conspiracies. The Man not only knew about magic, but had magic as well. Anything was possible.

Vashti shook the urge to delve throughout the corridors of the facility looking for secrets and exposing them to the world for a few reasons. First, she was a guest. Second, she was thankful that they hadn’t arrested her yet and didn’t want to give them a reason to do so. Third, she wanted to be useful to the Coven, even if she doubted there was anything she could actually do now that she was little more than One-Eyed Opened. Finally, she wanted something out of the DENS and it was difficult to ask for favors if she got caught trying to snap a selfie with ET and Tupac.

Vashti was quiet during the meeting. She was no longer wearing her headscarf or her jacket, her hair tucked behind her ears and her bare arms showing off their complete lack of scales. She watched the faces of Madison, Lyss, and the others as the DENS agent went over the plan to attack the Forgiven. Normally, Vashti would be thrilled to be a fly on the wall as stiffs in black suits discussed setting up what sounded like another Waco, but given the reality of the situation she just felt uncomfortable. She was way out of her element here. If she still had the Leviathan perhaps she could’ve been a (very dangerous, very chaotic, and very awful choice for a) distraction, but now she was just a weirdo with no real skills.

"Any questions?"

“How can I help?” said Vashti, a nervous tremor in her voice. “I feel like I’d be utterly useless going in, but it sounds like you’ll have a lot of indoctrinated victims to take care of once you bag Saul. I could help with the setup of like a...a trauma center or a food line or...I don’t know.”

“We’d have to bag Saul first. How do you plan to sneak in without alarming the whole compound? Dressing up like homeless people or survivors of Annabelle’s attack and seeing if they let us seek refuge?” asked one of Kim’s friends. “Because I’m pretty sure they know what most of us look like and I doubt they’d fall for it again anyway.”

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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Nisha showed mercy on young Aileen and released the hug before it became a smother. She was pleased to hear that the Irish girl had bought the story. And who wouldn’t? It was a brilliantly crafted fib, one that definitely couldn’t easily be shredded apart by a few probing questions and a DNA test. Nisha resisted the urge to pat herself on the back, even if it would be so easy to do with her four extra spectral hands. Nisha’s smile widened at the suggestion of a celebration. Yes, a welcome home party, maybe even a massive gala, why, she couldn’t possibly accept a homecoming parade, but if they insisted who was she to spoil the fun? Yet the future festivities only served to further the drastic drop to disappointment that was highlighted on Nisha’s face as Aileen mentioned that she and Miss Matthews were a bit preoccupied.

“Errands? Are you jo...of course, I mean, yes, errands are very important,” said Nisha that was so sickeningly sweet it threatened to stricken Aileen with cavities. Didn’t these rich jabronis have gofers for them? Nisha pressed an open palm to her heart as she continued to pack the bags to send her newfound “sis” on a guilt trip. “I’d just feel so horrible if I got in the way of someone getting a latte, especially if they were a long lost sister of mine. Like, it would be absolutely selfish of me. So please, by all—”

“I need to get to a doctor. Now,” said Arabelle. Nisha turned her head towards the other woman. For a moment, Nisha gave her a harsh look that said Arabelle was definitely about to need a doctor, and then she noticed the way the woman’s arm was hanging. In a flash the salty look was gone, replaced by a pair of raised, somewhat concerned but more curious eyebrows. Nisha had taken enough bumps in her life to recognize a dislocated shoulder. So, every person who knew magic didn’t also have a mysterious water spirit that heals all of their wounds too? Shame. “It was nice to meet you, Nisha. I hope to see you at the estate one day so that Ezra can properly introduce you to the Vanburen family.”

Now normally Nisha would happily take the opportunity to avoid dealing with a “you problem” that Miss Matthews had handed her, but it was outweighed by an even bigger problem: Nisha had no goddamn clue where the Vanburen Estate was, or really the location of anything in this town. There were other ways to find out for sure, but it’d just be easier to leech herself to these two women and easier was always the best solution bar none.

“Wait, wait, maybe I should come with you,” said Nisha, sliding over to the door. She wasn’t completely blocking it, but was close enough to it that it’d be uncomfortable to try and get by. “Safety in numbers, right? These small American towns are just ripe with weirdos, no offense, and you could get mugged or shot or someone could steal your gun and shoot you,” said Nisha, who assumed that, like all of her fellow countrymen, the American girl was packing heat. Her eyes began to drift as she continued, “Or you could point me in the direction of the house so I could let them know that you’re going to the hospital or…”

“...Okay, uhh, what’s with the skull?” said Nisha, pointing at the ram skull tucked under Arabelle’s arm.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

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Penny didn’t fight Madison sweeping her up in the arms of the Jaws. As much as she wanted to help finish the fight against Annabelle, she was absolutely exhausted and her head felt like it had been right against a speaker at a rock concert. It was painful to admit, but she knew she’d only be in the way. The migraine hit harder as the only sound that entered her ears was a pulsating fwoop. Penny closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Last time she pushed it too far she’d temporarily gone blind, but maybe her abstraction hit all of her senses. Her concerns of losing her hearing was dashed when she heard a voice crack over the loudspeaker of the helicopter that had drowned out any other sound. Next thing she knew, Madison was putting her and the others down.

A bunch of government stiffs in suits armed with rifles poured out of the helicopter, followed by a woman in a wheelchair. The woman introduced herself as Director Alcott, assumingly the one in charge of DENS, and nicely ordered Madison to hand over Meifeng. Penny watched as the wounded agent was loaded onto a stretcher, a hundred if-I-onlys running through her mind as she was whisked away to the helicopter. Penny’s eyes widened as she heard Meifeng’s last name for the first time. Liao? Surely it was a coincidence, but the thought that she’d fought side-by-side with someone from Justin’s family without even realizing it made her smile—one that quickly faded upon realizing that Meifeng was likely in near fatal condition. When she had a chance she’d call Justin just to squash any of her concerns.

Penny dipped back into the conversation. She folded her arms and smirked from behind Lyss as the girl called out the Director of DENS for holding back. How many people lost their lives because Annabelle was able to get to the point where she was now? Penny stepped forward at the mention of Saul. She recalled meeting with the man. She had been hesitant then, nervous that perhaps Saul was holding back the end of the world instead of accelerating it. In hindsight, being cautious had been costly. She sank back at the mention of Kimberly getting hurt and glanced over at Madison as she probed the Director to elaborate.

"She's been shot three times, she's in critical condition," Director Alcott answered. "I'm not sure if she will make it."

“She was in your custody and you let her get shot?” shouted Penny, moving towards the Director. “Are you fu—”

She was cut off by a loud explosion followed by a massive shockwave. Penny’s head whipped around to see the huge mushroom cloud followed by the jubilant glee from the Director as she announced that Annabelle had been defeated. Her shoulders dropped as she stared dumbly at the smoke. She could barely manage to keep herself alive against Annabelle with the help of a few others while Maximillian was able to take her out himself. She should be relieved, but between the feeling of uselessness and the concern over Meifeng and Kimberly the defeat of Annabelle hardly registered. As Maya reunited with her sisters, Penny approached the Director.

“I’m Penny Lawson. I was working with Kimberly Walton to track down Annabelle. If you’re planning to go after Saul I would love to help but…” Penny trailed off, glancing over at the Coven. She swallowed and continued, “Could I see Kim first?”

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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Ezra didn’t hear the knife hit, but the terrified shriek and the shouts from the other cultists brought a smirk to his face that he quickly tightened and wiped away. He could use his connections to draw information from the local hospital later to see if anyone arrived with a stab wound, then trace who brought them in to find out what kind of idiots decided to rob from him and his family. He poked his head out from the passage; the cultist was on the ground and another was reaching to pull out the knife. He sunk back into his hiding spot with a stern look on his face as he avoided the gaze of the couple of Vanburens that had followed him. A body could still give answers, but it also demanded questions. The only thing keeping him from getting sick was knowing that the states stance on the castle doctrine would unquestionably side with him.

First he felt his phone buzz, then he felt the whole house shake as the sound of heavy wind smacked against the house and the ground trembled. Ezra doubted it was just an anomaly, thinking instead that it was the doing of one of the cultists. He looked back down the hall to see if one of them was channeling anything in retaliation. He saw the cultist who had been pulling the knife out of the other on the ground, likely unable to steady themselves after their realization that their first aid failure had thrown their friend from being on the brink of death to plummeting straight to hell. He also saw the impostor run over to another one as they summoned a torrent of water that was rushing straight his way.

“Go, go, go!” shouted Ezra as he turned and began prodding his siblings to retreat down the passageway. The alarm in his otherwise normally calm-under-pressure voice would’ve likely been enough to get the others to start bolting even if it was accompanied by the sound of a rushing wave. However, even if they hadn’t been bottlenecked there would be no outrunning the water. The wave slammed into Ezra’s back and lifted him off of his feet, threatening to knock him into Alex and sending the pair cascading through the passageway straight back to the dining room.

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In the safety of the stall, hidden from the mob of annoyed coffee drinkers in need of their afternoon brew, Nisha replayed the conversation she just had in her head:

“I’m sorry Ms. Vanburen, he did not answer,” said Cherry, the proprietor of Café, Oh Yay and current victim of Nisha’s abrasiveness.

Nisha had glared down the larger woman, her nails biting through the thin polyester of her light jacket to create tiny indents on her arm, her lip curled at one end. Cherry’s tone seemed overall friendly, but there was something in the way she said Nisha’s phony last name that Nisha didn’t like. Maybe she was just imagining it. With complete disregard to the line behind her, Nisha said, “Then. Call. Him. Again.”

“Your brother knows how to listen to a voicemail.”

“My brother is going to be very angry when he hears about this,” hissed Nisha, already invoking the power of an utter rich stranger because she knew it would set the unhelpful woman straight.

Only she didn’t budge. Cherry said, “Ms. Vanburen, I imagine that, like me, Ezra is busy. Now you can either wait quietly here or I can arrange for Officer Dewey to pick you up again and take you somewhere quiet.”

The two women stared at each other. Nisha only budged when she saw Cherry start to reach for the phone. “Fine, but I want a refill.”

“Anything for a Vanburen,” said Cherry with a smile.

Now that Nisha had time to analyze the event, she began to suspect that the owner didn’t believe her claim about being a Vanburen. Her eyebrow twitched. How dare that lady assume she’s lying just because she is! Nisha had half a thought to go out there and teach the old bitch some manners. She could use the Long Arms of the Slaugh to toss the entire store and that woman even know what’s going on—Nel had told her that the normals couldn’t really detect the arms, on account of them being all stupid. Nisha grinned wolfishly, thinking of how funny it would be to smash a hot coffee pot across Cherry’s smug face. Nisha might not actually be a rich person whose money put them above the law yet, but she could get away with it nevertheless—no cop would buy the story that the girl materialized some ghost arms to assault her.

Nisha heard footfalls coming from outside of her stall, which was odd since there had been no noise of anyone else opening the bathroom door. She pressed her eye up against the gap in the door, holding her breath as she watched two women emerge from the mirror, one pulling the other through. They both had red hair, although one was darker and the other was brighter, and the taller woman’s arm hung in an odd way. Odder still was the skull slung under her arm. Nisha felt her eyes drawn to it. A slow chill ran down her spine as she analyzed the skull, but then there was nothing. The smaller of the two women began speaking, her Irish accent catching Nisha by surprise.

Truth be told, it all was perhaps the third oddest thing she had ever seen happen in a bathroom that she could remember, and she could remember a lot of weird bathroom experiences. Still, the woman who had pulled the other girl through the mirror was the first person besides herself that Nisha had seen use magic. Wait, magic? No, that wasn’t Nel’s word for it, she had called it....something. Whatever. The two women would hear a flush followed moments later by the unlatching of a lock as Nisha emerged from the stall. She imagined they had thought that they were alone. The atmosphere felt heavy. Nisha gave them a once over and nodded at the sink.

“You’re in the way,” she said before stepping between the women to wash her hands. What was the proper etiquette when meeting another magical weirdo? She could’ve used Nel’s advice, but the spirit was always so shy around others. Did she show off her ability like it was some kind of secret handshake? Did they fight? Nisha watched the two in the mirror as she washed her hands.Hopefully it was the former, but if it was the latter they looked pretty soft, one of them was already injured, and she had more fists and although not great with math she knew that meant she could throw more punches than them.

“So that’s a cool little trick you have there,” said Nisha, watching Arabelle in the mirror. Her voice fired off like a machine gun, not letting the others get a word in edgewise. “I bet you can get into a whole lotta trouble with something like that. Outta it, too.” She leaned towards the mirror and placed a wet hand against it: totally normal mirror. A ghostly blue arm slithered out of Nisha’s side, yanked a paper towel from the dispenser, and deposited it in her hands before fading away as she turned around to face the two. “Don’t worry, if there’s a string of burglaries around here I’m not gonna be the one to rat you out to the police.”

“Actually, that gets my brain thinking. Can you do that with any mirror? Like maybe even those security dome ones? Wait, would bank vaults even have one of those guys in”—she pointed at Aileen, whom she recognized from a tabloid story from when she had “researched” the Vanburens—“Hey, I know you! We’re’ sisters!” A mischievous smile radiated from Nisha as she spread her arms out, anticipating a hug from someone who didn’t even know she existed, “Well, half-sisters. Who cares, right?”

“I’m Nisha. Oh my gosh, I was getting worried that Ezra was standing me up too. Phew! He’s such a prankster, you know? Very funny guy. Love him already. I was kind of expecting a limo but I totally get doing something more lowkey like this, way cooler anyway, very slick. How’d you know I was in the bathroom though? Oh whatever. Ahhhh! I’m so excited to finally have a family!” she squealed, peppering in fragments of a convoluted tragic backstory that she was forgetting nearly as quickly as she was making it up. Everybody loved orphans, right? Nisha, no longer capable of waiting for the affection that she felt she was truly deserving of thanks to her performance, launched herself at Aileen to pull her into a big hug, ready to squeeze her “half-sister” as hard as she was about to squeeze the Vanburens for every goddamn red cent they had.

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

If you get Ezra's social link up high enough he buys you a house.

_{Getting Nisha's up to rank 10 gives you the bad end.}

Recollections: Magnanimous (Cancelled)

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"Now that I think of it, I have reason to believe that I'm the one that consumed the stash of narcotics that day... Mmm. Makes perfect sense," said Alexander.

“Just don’t let Shane hear that. He might narc you out,” said Ezra. Or use them all, thought Ezra as his slight smile became pained as he turned away. Unlike Ezra and his cigarettes, Shane barely even bothered to hide his drinking anymore. It wasn’t a big stretch to think that the former supercop turned shut-in was attached to a few more vices.

”Artifacts?” He heard Tuyen say from beside him, bringing his attention away from blitzed beagles and back to the matter-at-hand. “There’s a chance that one of those might be magical, and what they’re looking for. I would appreciate it if you took me there.”

"The Irish girl used the secret passage. It'll behoove us to do the same, since the witches and their dogs went in the direction of the gallery," said Georgie before Ezra had a chance to respond. He gave her a slightly disparaging headshake, although less because she boiled their half-sister Aileen down to just being “the Irish girl” and more because she said the phrase “secret passage”. It was obviously just a service hallway, designed to allow servants to easily move throughout the house to perform their duties without interrupting the family or any of their guests, and was a totally normal thing for people to have in their home. Still, it was the best way to go to avoid any unwanted confrontation.

“Georgie’s right. One moment,” said Ezra as he walked over to where he had embedded the knife in the wall and pulled it out of the singed plaster. He reapproached Tuyen and gestured to the door with his hand, the bracelet hanging from his wrist glowing orange as he started to channel a spell. “After you.”

He had walked only a few feet after Tuyen before he fully considered what Georgie had said. Ezra stopped and turned sharply on his heels, holding out a hand to stop his younger sibling who was surely following them. The knife in his other hand began to glow orange as he warned her, “If you’re going to come with, stay back and stay out of her way.”

Ezra followed Tuyen through the passageway, keeping quiet except to tell her to go straight at the split as he finished transforming the simple kitchen knife into a Masterpiece. As their expert stepped out into the hallway near the study, Ezra remained with his back against the wall of the secret passage, his head turned ever so slightly so he could keep Tuyen in his periphery while staying mostly hidden.

The girl seemed to have a cool confidence to her as she whipped a notebook at a hellhound and called out to the four hooded figures. Ezra had seen her use her shadow to deck one of the doggies earlier, so he knew that she wasn’t all talk, but Tuyen was still heavily outnumbered. Maybe she was more powerful than she had come off as, or maybe she was just cocky. Either way, Ezra felt his stomach sink at the thought of just watching her get piled on by a bunch of meddling home invaders and their stupid dog, too. He touched his chest as a wave of orange travelled through his channeler, up his fingers, and into his chest as he cast Prodigy on himself again and became the perfect knife thrower.

“I’d told them to get out,” he muttered to himself. With one fluid motion he turned out of the secret passage and whipped the knife down the hallway. The blade flew perfectly straight, as if he had been practicing chucking kitchen knives his whole life, and buzzed straight past Tuyen towards the cultist who was distracted with rubbing their head. Unless there some interference, he was certain it would hit them right in the chest. Ezra didn’t wait to see if the strike landed as he slid back into the secret passage and listened for a scream, hoping that an unseen assailant taking one of them out would force the others to reconsider taking on the lone Tuyen—or at least weaken the strength of the pack pitted against her.