Evil Ghost Note

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

The warehouse door squeaked open with a tired metallic sound before shutting behind Isabelle. She wore a cropped rust-colored knit top, high-waisted dark jeans, and a light denim jacket, paired with scuffed black platform Converse that suited a crowded warehouse party. Minimal gold jewelry—a thin chain necklace, small hoops, and a simple ring-added just enough detail to make the outfit look deliberate without attracting too much attention. She hesitated inside the doorway. The noise hit her; as did the heat, the bass, the scent of sweat and cheap liquor mixed with old brick and dust.

Lights flickered irregularly across the walls. Someone shouted near the speakers, followed by brief laughter. Isabelle didn’t move right away. She carefully assessed her surroundings, noting the exits, windows, gaps in the crowd, and loose extension cords on the floor. Her gaze fixed on the center, where a familiar figure moved through the chaos naturally—Claire O’Sullivan. Even from afar, Isabelle could tell she was in charge, commanding subtly rather than loudly.

Host. Useful.

She stepped forward but paused, her body already in motion. She blinked, brow tightening as if she’d forgotten something. A fleeting, strange sensation like catching up to herself momentarily lingered, then vanished. “Huh.” She didn’t dwell on it.

Instead, she slipped smoothly into the crowd, navigating the shifting gaps without pushing or shoving. People instinctively moved around her. Reaching a pillar near the center of the floor, she stopped, resting her hand on the cool concrete, feeling the bass vibrate softly through it. She observed the scene: a couple arguing by the wall, someone spilling a drink near the dance area, the makeshift bar gathering a crowd.

Her reflection sparkled briefly in a dusty window across the room—then, for an instant, it seemed she was already watching herself. The thought disappeared before settling. Isabelle exhaled quietly, leaning against the pillar.

“Alright,” she whispered, “let’s see what this turns into.”

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

Lupe watched Ella slam half the drink in one go and let out a sharp laugh.

“Damn, Sailor Moon, okay!” she said, clearly impressed. “Most people test it first. But not yooou. You clearly built dofferent, mami.”

She tapped the side of one of the bottles on the table.

“Recipe’s simple, mami, mix booze, taste it. If it burns like gasoline, adjust. If it tastes like fruit punch that might ruin your life a little?” She shrugged. “Success.”

Beside her, Kari took a smaller sip, studying the drink like she was evaluating a science experiment.

“... Mildly drinkable,” she decided with a roll of her eyes

When Ella asked about pink drinks, Kari glanced sideways at Lupe with a faintly mischievous smile.

“Oh, she has one,” Kari said lightly. “It’s just... historically...” She trailed off with a shrug, “... a little catastrophic.”

Lupe grinned at that, not even denying it.

Then Ella offered to carry them home.

Lupe snorted, bumping Kari lightly with her elbow.

“Can you believe her? The AUDACITY.”

Kari lifted her cup slightly toward Ella, eyes bright with quiet amusement.

“Yeah,” she added. “We might be the ones carrying you in about twenty minutes.”

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

@FernStone

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Her mix of Purple and Black Lux is inherently unstable. Purple aims to restore what a body once was, while Black declares it dead. Forcing both onto the same corpse creates tension within the spell. The longer an undead remains active, the more unpredictable it becomes—movements may lag, instincts slip, and control can lapse. Her undead are also linked to her through Black Lux. When one is violently destroyed, the backlash travels through the bond, causing nausea, dizziness, or lapses in focus. Her telekinesis is powerful but rough; it operates in explosive bursts, causing force to rebound off surfaces, which makes enclosed spaces risky as debris or shockwaves can return toward her. Teleporting through her undead isn’t perfectly smooth— the sudden shift causes brief disorientation upon arrival, usually just a second, but enough for someone nearby to seize an opportunity quickly.

Accepted.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

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Kari barely registered the incoming collision before Ella’s arms encircled her tightly. For a moment, she instinctively stiffened-her mind racing to identify who was there, where they were, and the impact's origin—before she heard the voice.

"Kaaaa-rrriiiii!" recognition suddenly clicked.

"Oh!" The sound escaped her as she half-laughed, Ella's grip squeezing the air from her lungs. "Hi, Ella,” Kari managed, her voice soft against her friend's shoulder.

Her arms instinctively responded with a hug, even if she couldn’t move much else.

“I missed you too. I can't feel my ribs, but I missed you." Then Nora joined the hug. Kari’s eyes widened briefly as a second pair of arms wrapped around her.

"Oh my god—" she exclaimed breathlessly and surprised as the group hug intensified. "Okay-okay, the ambush worked," she said, trying and failing to wiggle free.

“You two really nailed the surprise." The bass vibrated through the floor and her shoes as she tilted her head to look between Ella and Nora.

"Also, hi, Nora,” she added, smiling warmly now that the shock eased. Her eyes briefly darted to Ella when the topic of drinks came up, a decision seemingly promising future trouble. Kari opened her mouth to reply, but Lupe moved first.

---

Lupe watched the entire ambush unfold like someone witnessing a natural disaster that happened to also be extremely entertaining.

The moment Ella barreled through the crowd, yelling Kari’s name, Lupe’s grin widened into something wickedly delighted.

“AYYY—!” she barked out a laugh as Kari disappeared into a wall of enthusiastic affection. “Look at this! The cavalry arrived!”

When Ella pulled her into the hug too, Lupe didn’t even resist — she just leaned into it, one arm hooking around Ella’s shoulders while the other ruffled Kari’s hair with exaggerated affection.

“Damn, mami, you’ve got a whole fan club tonight,” she teased, eyes sparkling as she rocked slightly with the music. “You bring these two everywhere, or is this a special event package?”

When the group hug finally loosened enough for breathing to become optional again, Lupe stepped back half a pace — though she kept one arm casually slung around Kari’s shoulders like she’d claimed her spot.

Her gaze bounced between Nora and Ella with immediate approval.

“First of all,” she said, pointing between them, “Ten outta ten entrance, mami. No notes. Very dramatic. I respect it.”

She gestured broadly around the warehouse.

“And second of all, you picked the right night to show up. The whole place has been going off since like ten.”

At the mention of drinks, Lupe’s grin sharpened.

"Oh, what's a party without drinks, mami,” she declared, already removing her arm from Kari’s shoulders and gesturing toward the folding-table bar. "Come on, rookies. Field trip." She didn’t really wait to see if anyone followed, just pivoted and weaved her way through the crowd with the same effortless confidence she had earlier. A few people greeted her as she passed—someone bumping her shoulder, another trying to hand her a half-empty cup.

Lupe ignored all of them.

“Nah, nah,” she chuckled, waving them off. “Professional at work.”

The makeshift bar looked exactly like it sounded: a folding table, two coolers, a plastic bin filled with ice, and a chaotic assortment of bottles that seemed to have been donated by someone’s older sibling with questionable taste.

Lupe hopped onto the edge of the table as if it were her own.

“Alright,” she announced, grabbing a stack of red cups and quickly setting them down with practiced ease. “Y’all are in luck.”

She opened the cooler, grabbing a bottle, then another, and finally a neon one that glowed oddly under the strobe lights.

“I make a 'special' mix, Mami," she said, voice suddenly conspiratorial. “House recipe.”

She poured without measuring.

Vodka.

Something fruity.

Something intensely blue.

Then a splash from a bottle that looked like it had been repurposed multiple times.

Lupe shot a sly glance at Nora and Ella.

“Don’t worry,” she said sweetly. “Only about... twenty percent dangerous, mami.”

She then shrugged before she slid two cups across the table toward them.

Then she poured another, offering it to Kari.

Kari watched the process quietly, head tilted, eyes tracking each bottle as if solving a chemistry puzzle that really shouldn’t be solved.

When Lupe slid the cup toward her, Kari raised an eyebrow.

“Only "twenty" percent?” she echoed, tilting her head.

She took the drink, swirling it to see the colors blend.

“That seems cautious for you.” Kari rolled her eyes.

Her mouth curved into a slight smile as she looked toward Nora and Ella, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” she added softly. “Lupe’s experiments are usually... survivable.”

A brief pause.

Then Kari raised her cup slightly toward them.

"Usually," she said.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

Before the crack. Before the shift, before anyone looked down, Cornell is quiet. Not peaceful — just paused. Something lies beneath it.

Not sleeping.

Waiting.

---

September 7th. Labor Day. 10:02 PM. The day of the tear.

---

“... Try not to be in your head the whole time for once?”

Elsa grins, bumping Kari’s shoulder, teasing her like she’s pulling her out of a book she isn’t even holding.

Kari exhales through her nose, pretending to be offended, while she rolls her eyes.

“I’m always present.”

“Uh-huh,” Elsa responds. “Sure you are.”

Gravel crunches under their shoes as they step off the cracked road toward the warehouse. The old rail lines run beside them like exposed bones, half-swallowed by weeds and dirt. Ahead, the brick building stands heavy and square against the night sky, its windows glowing warm gold under the moon. Music spills out in all directions, bass thick enough to feel in the ribs. Laughter rises and breaks like waves against concrete.

Kari adjusts the strap of her crossbody bag and touches the woven bracelet on her wrist absentmindedly. She tells herself this is normal - just a party. Just noise. Just high school pretending to be invincible. As they approach, the building seems alive. A single light hums faintly over the steel door, moths circling in frantic loops.

Someone stumbles out laughing, and heat hits them - sweat, perfume, cheap liquor, summer air charged with adrenaline.

Inside, the warehouse transforms.

Extension cords snake across the floor, powering mismatched lights that flash red and violet against brick walls layered with graffiti. A speaker stack rattles near a column wrapped in caution tape. Someone is hyping up a dance circle from a folding table. The bass vibrates through exposed beams and into bone.

Elsa grabs Kari’s hand and pulls her into the crowd.

Bodies everywhere - motion, noise, energy. Kari slips into it carefully, dodging elbows, sidestepping spilled drinks, smiling automatically at familiar faces. She reads them instinctively who’s nervous, who’s trying too hard, who’s pretending they don’t care.

Threads hum faintly in her awareness — excitement, relief, the desperate need for something beyond school. Beyond tension. Beyond whispers no one wants to name.

“...Kari, mami!”

The voice cuts clean through the bass — bright, sharp, impossible to ignore.

“¡Por fin! You showed up!”

Lupe Sánchez is half-standing on a folding chair near the makeshift bar, with one sneaker on the seat and the other on the table, striking a mid–victory pose. She raises a red plastic cup dramatically in one hand, with a neon-pink bandana tied around her wrist.

She looks vibrant even without trying — her curls bounce, her grin is wide and reckless, and her eyes sparkle as if she swallowed the strobe lights. A few people are already laughing at her theatrics. Someone attempts to steady the chair, but she completely ignores them.

"I want to make this a night to fuckin' remember!" Lupe shouts, "Because I make every night a night to remember!"

Cheers erupt around her.

She hops down without missing a beat — lands light, balanced, already moving to the rhythm like the bass is wired into her spine. Her body finds the tempo instinctively, shoulders rolling once, hips shifting, energy coiling and snapping loose in perfect sync with the song.

Then she spots Kari properly.

Her grin shifts, softer for half a second. Real.

“And there she is,” Lupe says, pushing through the crowd with effortless confidence, “Thought you were gonna ghost us and go journal about the vibes or something.”

Elsa snorts beside Kari, bumping her with her elbow. “See? It’s not just me.” Who merely rolls her eyes again.

Lupe reaches them and hooks an arm loosely around Kari’s shoulders, warm and buzzing with movement.

“You’re late,” she declares, mock stern — then immediately breaks into a laugh. “But I forgive you, mami. I’m in a generous mood.”

Her eyes gleam — mischief, challenge, something sharper buried deep where no one looks too long.

“C’mon,” she says, already tugging Kari toward the dance circle. “Before someone plays a sad song and ruins the vibe, y'know!”

The crowd around them grows larger.

Someone shouts Lupe’s name. Someone else tries to drag her toward the speakers. The bass tempo shifts, and she reacts instantly, weight adjusting, grin widening like she’s daring the night to keep up.

For a moment, it feels like the room is bending around her.

Orbit correcting.

And Kari realizes there’s no slipping through unnoticed now.

The circle parts.

The music builds.

And Lupe is already moving.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

@Rekkuza

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Kersten’s Abstraction relies heavily on preparation and physical interaction, rendering it slow and cumbersome in sudden or chaotic situations. Using the Corn Pipe involves packing the bowl, lighting it, and inhaling a substantial amount of smoke, which takes time and leaves Kersten vulnerable during the process ritual.

Accepted.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

@NoriWasHere

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Zofia’s Abstraction is intricately connected to her own body and blood, making her physically vulnerable in ways that most opponents can exploit. Any damage that reduces her blood immediately weakens her catalogue. Overusing her abilities risks triggering Blood Loss, during which her body regenerates at the expense of her consciousness, leaving her incapacitated for ten minutes and defenseless. Even before reaching this stage, blood depletion causes her to feel dizzy, confused, and weaker.

Accepted.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

@FernStone

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Ella’s magical gay girl Abstraction relies heavily on her Magical Metamorphosis; she cannot activate her spells until her transformation is complete. This process takes about thirty seconds, during which she is vulnerable, bright, and unable to act. Her Prismatic Powers are also limited. While her Super Prism Kick is powerful, it has a short range and leaves her leg exposed, increasing the risk of injury if used repeatedly against hard surfaces or opponents.

Her spells themselves have exploitable fragility. Prism Princess Daylight Blade, though sharp and magical, is inherently delicate; if it strikes a reflective surface, the blade is disrupted, and strong impacts can shatter its rainbow light, rendering it useless. Prismatic Sun Flash is similarly hazardous; its intense beams can backfire, blinding Ella if reflected or misaligned. Close-range combat is particularly risky, as most of her spells require proximity or extended casting sequences, leaving her exposed to counterattacks.

Also, she's weak against Uncles.

Accepted.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

@NoriWasHere

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Tyler’s Abstraction depends entirely on maintaining a precise mental map of his surroundings. In chaotic or crowded settings, the abundance of objects or rapid movements can overwhelm his focus, leading to misidentifications or hesitation. Visual distortions such as mirrors, illusions, smoke, or other effects can subtly skew his perception, making swaps inaccurate or risky. His power also hinges on unwavering confidence; sudden fear, guilt, or strong emotions can disrupt the mental clarity he relies on. An excess of choices can also cause paralysis; when faced with multiple threats, Tyler might struggle to prioritize swaps, freezing while deciding the best move. Moreover, interactions with other magical or psychic forces could cause his Abstraction to malfunction, especially if objects are magical, cursed, or unstable. An opponent aware of his abilities might exploit this, turning his precision into a weakness.

Accepted.

Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

"Let the past die," says Ghost Note who recycles characters from Agents of Death....

@Blizz

Technically Lupe’s recycled from an rp I ran ages ago.