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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Vicker's Beach SUMMARY: Night 1 of the Wicked's Rest Bondfire is here! Mischief was afoot...or a-nose as some would say. With talk of a murder and the astomi wandering free some people surely had some fun, right? NOTE: Please be sure to reblog this thread if your character is in it, and we will count it as a thread for the next Activity Check.

HARRIET didn’t have the heart to harm the little sniffy guys who got into her flower shop. But every time they got in, every plant in her store lost its beautiful fragrance, and her customers simply left and bought their flowers someplace else. Yes, she needed to do something with the little sniffy guys. Harriet had managed to shepherd at least a dozen of their small, fleshy bodies into the back of her van. She’d purchased the Toyota only a couple months ago and had been enjoying that new-leather-smell, but now her nose picked up only its absence.

“Alright,” she said, pulling up to the beach. “You all ready? This’ll be your home now. Not my flower shop.” One sniffled. “Do you all understand me? Right here; you’ll stay here.” She looked over her shoulder and saw all the little sniffy guys shuffling about in the trunk, the tips of their noses pressed against the glass. A few vibrated with anticipation. Harriet realized she didn’t smell that pungent, rotten eggs algae the state always had to scrape off the rocks each summer. Maybe these creatures belonged here after all. She slid out of the car and opened the trunk. One by one, each little sniffy guy rolled out and tottered across the beach, nostrils flaring. She watched them trip and sniff up sand and disappear from view.

Her eyes weren't the sharpest, but from a distance, she could see a growing gathering of people, and what looked like a firepit, craft tables, food, and... there went her little sniffy guys. Oh dear, wasn’t that bonfire happening soon?

[Little sniffy guys here: https://wickedsrest-rp.tumblr.com/post/793319132889235456/astomi ]

REGAN felt like she passed some unspoken test. Several people had asked what she planned to bring to the bonfire this year. Presumably, because the pile of festering fish she so carefully curated last year was a great success. She remembered how everyone had looked upon it, commented on it. She couldn’t help but be a little stressed about this year, though, which was quite human of her, really—how could anything she brought this time possibly be better? For weeks, she’d been asking Jade for thoughts. But Jade ranked all of her ideas highly, which didn’t leave Regan with much feedback. She could ask others, but humans enjoyed surprises, she’d learned. Or she could ask Dr. Rickers, except she refused and needed cite no reason.

The answer came to her at 3am, as Jade’s arm draped over her. Arm. Arm! It was so obvious. Plus, it wasn’t a leg—Regan didn’t wish to traumatize anyone (humans were possessed of great trauma; she, of course, was effortlessly stable and couldn’t conceive of being so afflicted, because of the effortless stability that was so effortless and stable). It took a few tries to find an arm, and unfortunately, the distinction of forelimbs and hindlimbs wasn’t significant to the lay human. Mooses had four legs, they thought. To Regan, the bleeding limb she cradled could just as well be called an arm. Shredded strips of the extensor carpi radialis stretched past the edge of the fur, swaddling broken bone. Yellow-red marrow plugged up the center like the congealed top of a creme brulee. Who could look at that and call it a leg? No, she had nothing to be concerned about. The smell would be appreciated if nothing else.

Before LIL had left for six months she really had never thought about events like this in Wicked’s Rest as anything special. After all, they were pretty normal and she had skipped many of them, but after coming back and especially with not knowing where most of the Ballard’s were, it seemed almost necessary for her to be at events. After all, she didn’t want to be a ghost haunting the town and part of her felt obligated to roam.

As she got to the bonfire Lil relaxed stretching as she brought marshmallows and other stuff to share. She wasn’t at all cook, but she was patient enough to not burn the marshmallows to a full roasted outside. “Hey - if you want one I’ve got plenty of supplies,” Lil said to the others around, hoping to at least not make them as paranoid as they could be. “Even got the good chocolate and the stick things.”

ZACK was excited when he saw the flyers for the Bondfire around Downtown. It seemed like it would be the perfect opportunity to reconnect with the town and its citizens, and maybe make some new friends along the way. Upon arriving, he quickly loaded up with a complimentary can of Sharp Claws (apparently blood orange flavor, though there was a typo on the can, declaring it as "Blood. Orange!") and mingled through the crowd, trying to keep a friendly smile on his face. Zippo was riding on his shoulder, but kept swiveling his little head toward the firepit, black glossy eyes reflecting the flames.

"Do you like s'mores?" Zack murmured to his familiar, grin widening. He made off toward the firepit, scoping out the assembly line of chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows. He grinned as Lil, a familiar face from his first stint at Wicked's Rest, announced that there were plenty to go around. "Hey, thanks!" he greeted, spearing two marshmallows (one for his s'mores, one for Zippo) onto a skewer and holding it toward the bonfire. "I'll never say no to a sweet treat, but this is the perfect day for s'mores."

A private smile crossed his face as he considered his own abilities in spellcasting. He had never tried, but Zack was confident that he could make s'mores anywhere, anytime with his magic. And if the marshmallows he had on his skewer didn't roast precisely how he liked, he might even try the trick right then and there -- assuming he could do so sneakily. "I'm a charred on the outside, molten on the inside guy myself. How do you like your 'mallows?" he posed to Lil, and any of the others around the fire as well.

MADISON had decided that she needed to 'get out and about' more. It would help her find people who were like her, and it was also recommended by not only Marielle, but Brooklyn too. Her other siblings had agreed, and she wasn't going to not do something they thought she should do, even though she'd texted Salem separately to say how much she wished that she could be there too, especially. Salem was starting college this year, but Salem was back home in North Carolina.

She hoped that maybe she'd run into someone who she knew here, but if not she could just vibe and eat good food.

JADE had to take it upon herself to find a winter coat to sacrifice to the bonfire. It was just… You know, way harder to convince Regan to buy one for the occasion. Once Jade saw that bright* 'I have an idea'* look on her partner’s face at the concept of arm all bets were off. (It was a powerful look, one that made it hard to ever contradict Regan) (The life of a simp wasn’t easy, but it was totally fulfilling). Besides, that didn’t mean she was letting go of Baz’s brilliant idea to commemorate the event at last. Nuh uh! Nope, she could celebrate it by herself. After all, she was the person who won the most out of the last coat exploding into a billion pieces. The reasons why this coat burning ceremony was so important were irrelevant right now, she knew it would be confusing to explain, what with the wings and the pixies and the cabins in the forest, but it was a year in the making, and that was all anyone should know.

She carried the coat in her arms, with a lot less care and love than Regan did her arm (even though it looked like a leg) (the arm, not the coat. The coat looked like a coat). Mostly cause she didn’t wanna get attached to the soft fabric and the puffiness. This was a coat meant to burn. Not one to comfort. She strolled toward the gathering, memories of last year’s making her heart soggy with fondness (she’d even worn the ‘societal menace’ bracelet Vic had so nicely made for her). This was gonna be just as great. Even better, probably. Cause a coat would become dust.

DREW wasn’t a fan of social gatherings but she’d agreed to participate more so for the sake of monitoring the amount of trash and debris that failed to find its way to the proper disposal sites than to actually have fun or interact with anyone. As she approached the growing crowd of residents she slid her usual scowl into place to discourage anyone from approaching her and began to slowly make her rounds, eyeing all of the plastic that was sure to cause some trouble if she didn’t stay on top of it. The company she worked for had suggested sending out a large group of people to help with the efforts to keep the area as safe for the local wildlife as possible but Drew had insisted that she was more than capable of getting the job done on her own. It was hard enough to get the general public to respect what marine conservationists did for a living, she didn’t think that showing up in large numbers and being seen as “party poopers” would really do anything to benefit their cause. So, comfortably alone and concentrated on the task at hand, she began monitoring, listening in on the interesting conversations and rolling her eyes at the awkwardness of others meeting for the first time.

ELIAS hated the idea of showing up to this bonfire, but he also knew that he needed to leave his house before he lost his mind completely. As soon as he rolled up and saw everyone present, he decided to stick to the outskirts of the gathering, idly picking at his nails as others began conversing with one another. Maybe if he stuck to the shadows, no one would see him. He's... admittedly had worse ideas. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted two familiar figures. Oh, that wasn't good. Best keep his head down. Nothing to see here, folks.

THEA was confident in the powers of Lumpy Dog. Was being the operative word here. Once Lumpy Dog was completed and she spun around, looking down the beach at the other sandcastles, she realized that what she had was a nothing more than a pile of sand with a carrot in it. It was a very cute pile of sand though, wasn’t it? She certainly hoped someone thought so.

Thea stared out at the water like a forlorn sailor. She turned, contemplating walking away, when she saw them: astomi waddling. Well, just the one; he looked a little lost. Thea couldn’t exactly tell if his beady eyes were filling with tears at this distance, but it gave that impression. Thea only bent to grab her bag but when she looked up, the astomi was gone. This, if anything, was a job for a Scribe! It would be catastrophic if the astomi sniffed up all the smells… or so Thea assumed.

She marched down the beach, toward the main gathering, her eyes peeled for noses. Her nose peeled for smells that she actually couldn’t smell, so, really, she had her mouth peeled open to ask everyone about smells.

At the question LIL shrugged as she carefully turned her marshmallow in the fire keeping an eye on the sugary confection with a rapt attention the woman usually didn't have “I kinda like them fully roasted you know the nice brown. At least the first few before I just want to eat them quickly.” She eyed the creature but decided to let it be. After all, everyone was allowed to go to a bonfire in Lil’s humble opinion and Zack hadn't ever caused her problems. It wasn’t quite cool in the air yet, but Lil was already in the mood for fall.

MOLLY, who'd been trying to get out and about more in Wicked's Rest lately heard a few students in one of her classes talking about the upcoming bonfire. Molly asked one of them about it on their way out and immediately knew it might be another good excuse to get her out of the house and meeting new people. For someone who had been living in Wicked's Rest for an entire year, she hadn't met too many others, at least not outside of a simple catch up and a few interactions online.

So when the day of the bonfire came she slipped into one of her favorite pairs of ripped jeans and wrapped herself in one of a red and black flannel that seemed appropriate for a beach bonfire. After she arrived at the beach, she rolled up the cuffs of her jeans and headed straight for the water, standing out to admire the horizon just where the waves could barely reach her bare feet. She was startled for a moment by the sounds of tiny splashes beneath her but her gaze wasn't fast enough to catch a good glimpse at the little creatures that scurried away down the beach.

Looking ahead at the group, REGAN'S throat swelled. She never liked things like this. And she saw more people than she’d been around in… possibly since the previous year, actually. Then, she had managed not to scream or do anything that drew undue attention. Since then, Regan had only improved, hadn’t she? But the clams… no, no, focus. Her fingers tightened around the bag’s handles, moose limb safe within. Her other hand found Jade’s and squeezed just as hard. She could feel the heat coming off her bone partner—Jade was likely excited, but Regan suspected she might be nervous about running into certain… people. Or she was just really looking forward to setting that winter coat alight. It wasn't even one Regan had worn before, but its meaning was obvious. “Here we go. Maybe I’ll stick by you. If people think we’re literally stuck together, they may neglect other questions.”

"Who are we trying to avoid?" Regan said, perhaps a little too loud (if there was such a thing) as they neared the fire. "Siobhan... Elias." The name scorched her stomach and burned up her throat. "He wouldn't be here, would he? No, no, probably back in California again. I'll walk into the ocean if he shows up. Clams. You know how... passionate I have become for them. And... Emilio? Where are you with--" Regan tripped over someone's sandcastle.

EVE would never say no to a party (except for all the times when she did). She'd even brought food to add to the potluck table not far from the bonfire. A chateau Marcel even sounded fancy and French (Henri better be impressed), but it was actually incredibly easy to make taste good. Presentation, on the other hand? She'd made finer work. It looked a little like a mud pie. Her back began to burn, but considering how many town's people there were, that wasn't so surprising. Anyway, tonight wasn't hunter night... or at least, not until she spotted the young woman who had been weird about Rangers online. She walked over, offering a slice of cake. "Can I bribe you? I need people to think I'm not serving them something I dug out of The Pines. It's just chocolate, I swear!"

As much as she tried, there was nothing that could keep DREW away from the water for long, even when she was supposed to be working. She slipped off her shoes and went to stand a little ways away from Molly, close enough to strike up a conversation but far enough away so that it didn’t feel intimate. She’d also heard the tiny splashes and looked around for the source but couldn’t find anything, so she decided that it was just some of her fish friends coming to say hello.

“Did you enter the sandcastle competition?” She asked Molly, her eyes glued to the water. She wasn't good at small talk but she’d give it an honest try. If it didn't work out all she had to do was walk away, now that was something she was good at.

Raul was thriving in the sunshine. Sure he was technically here to check if the telluric currents between the new island and the mainland shore matched. However, after some half-hearted surveys and some substantial pre-gaming, Raul had decided a break would obviously help the research along, definitely.

So it was that Raul had spent most of the morning surfing, with of course the occasional thought about the research he was going to get to any moment now after the next wave. Yet, hours had slipped by and on coasting onto the shore Raul had noticed the gathering and remembered those community posters he’d seen around town. Original purpose forgotten again, Raul jogged lazily towards the bonfire, surfboard under an arm.

Someone came over to her and MADISON briefly startled, before recognizing the lady online who seemed to know something about rangers. Or maybe Rangers. Madison wasn't entirely sure. Either way, she was talking to her now and offering her cake and her eyebrows knit together. "I mean, sure? But I've been told not to take food from strangers... but I guess this also is a potluck a little bit too, so I probably can have it?" She shrugged. "It doesn't have nuts or whatever in it, right?"

Even though his last attempt at a large social-ish event hadn't gone so well, GUILLERMO felt determined to try again. If he gave up after every bad experience, how many good ones could he actually have? Anyway, he'd gotten here early to avoid tripping over anyone, and was plopped in the part of the beach designated for sandcastle building, still working on his masterpiece. Which was mostly just some mounds in the shape of what hinted at a building, with a bunch of sticks jutting out of the edges. You know! How building are decorated! (He didn't know what a building looked like, to be fair. The sticks just felt right.) His hands brushed over sand, poking holes here and adding foliage there, hoping that it might come out looking half-decent. If he didn't win, that was okay. He'd gotten a little more used to not winning things that were easy for people who could see.

When MOLLY heard Drew's voice over the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, she looked over at her. "Oh? No, I didn't enter." She replied, shaking her head before looking out at the water once more. "I'm afraid I'm not too creative when it comes to building with sand." She couldn't help but chuckle, "Though I could probably offer some pretty good decorations to one that's already up if I had some fun shells to add. What about you?"

If there was a social gathering in town, then MONICA was going to be there. Nothing thrilled her more than getting to bond with the humans - and maybe even some fellow fae! Though as she arrived at the beach, she scanned around for any familiar faces to no avail. She was far from a shy person, but the thought of having to infiltrate one of these existing friend groups made her a tiny bit nervous. She kicked some sand around as she tried to decide her first move, finally deciding that the actual bonfire itself would be a good place to start. "This is so nice!" She exclaimed rather loudly to no one in particular as she sauntered up to the main group.

TEAGAN found herself struggling to strike up any conversation. The last time she'd attended that bonfire, Felix was there, having a hard time because someone hated them. Then she quickly discovered someone detested her presence too.

That year was different though. People were gone, and people were pushed away. Teagan was alone, struggling to make some sort of effort to speak to literally anyone. She grumbled some Welsh obscenities to herself, plopping down on the sand to at least enjoy the sun quietly while a few others enjoyed the water.

DREW shook her head. She was admittedly very good at building sandcastles as it was something she’d done her entire life, but she was there to work not engage in childish activities. “No, I didn’t. I think some people teamed up though, you probably could’ve joined with someone and decorated after they’d actually built it. Maybe you can do that next time.” She glanced over at Molly, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to continue the conversation or go on her own way. In the end she decided that it couldn't have hurt too much for her to continue talking until she actually got bored. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Drew.”

"That's fair," ZACK said, nodding to Lil's marshmallow choice. The top marshmallow was only starting to get crisp on the outside and soft, hardly taking on any color, but Zack withdrew his skewer from the fire. Even though Zippo was a fire salamander, he still didn't want to give him something too hot to eat. "Here, bud." He swiveled the skewer up and around so his familiar could munch on the confection. Zippo gripped onto the marshmallow though, toasting it a little further and drawing a laugh from Zack.

He looked up at the excited shout from the girl who just drew up to the fire and gave her an enthusiastic nod back, hoping to match her energy. As he looked up, his eyes were drawn to the surfer jogging up the shore. No, he wasn't moving in slow motion. It was just that Zack had perhaps watched a bit too much Baywatch at a formative age. His eyes lingered before he deliberately set his attention back to the fire.

THEA watched in horror as Lumpy Dog became more lumpy, a woman with a bloody bag (literally bloody, not in the British way) tumbled into it. His carrot nose fell down. Were Thea capable of crying, she might’ve.

“Murderer!” Thea called out. “Murderer on the beach!” It did not occur to her that this was a bad thing to yell on a beach full of people. “And she has a leg! Contraband leg!” This was such a lawless Bondfire! Who was keeping the sandcastles safe? Or all the smells? The astomi were going to sniff everything up and this woman was going to destroy all the hard, lumpy work of the good people.

“Quite a - pet you got there,” LIL said fascinated by the creature on Zach’s shoulder but not enough to say much more. Lil turned slightly to the new person and nodded, “Yeah the bonfire this time isn’t too small at all. Do you want to make a Smore? They’ll be pretty tasty this time of day.” She asked offering Monica one of the long sticks she had pilfered from her families garage and cleaned before coming down.

EVE shrugged, barely mollified. "I mean, there's a full pot luck over there, which is all food from strangers." She shook her head. "No. It's just eggs, butter, chocolate, sugar." Her eyes flicked over to some movement on the far end of the beach, where noses were starting to move around. Even Eve recognised them: Astomi. Shit. She shifted her weight, so the woman she was chatting with ould have to turn away from them. "Have you been to one of these before?"

“Yeah it’s deec” Raul replied to Monica’s general address with a sun-flushed grin . “We’ll need to build it bigger though, start jumping over it and whatnot. If someone’s gonna call fire hazard or whatever we’ve got to make it worth it first, thems the rules”

There were tons of beautiful, familiar faces gathering around. (There was Lil in the s’mores station, and oh! Eve looking gorg, and wait… was that Elias trying to hide his practically 7 feet tall frame from them?). JADE was itching to go say hi to literally everybody, but she knew that everybody would still be there in five minutes, so pacing herself wasn’t so bad. Plus, she felt the tight squeeze of Regan’s hand, and she immediately knew her partner had to be feeling a little overwhelmed by the number of people and whatever her banshee senses might be picking up on. “I can definitely be your social lube, baby. Before you know it, you’ll slip right into every convo,” she pressed a kiss to Regan’s cheek and continued to pull forward. Who did they have to avoid? Considering last time she’d gotten to hang out with literal nemesis Vic and Metzli, she figured everybody was aware that this was supposed to be like a conflict free zone. So she had no intention of avoiding anyone.

“I think Elias is trying to avoid us,” she mumbled, looking at his head peak from above the crowd despite his best efforts. She got it, she knew she had to give everybody time. Maybe they could approach once the vibes were confirmed to be awesome. She was gonna comment on the fact that Emilio hadn’t answered her text asking if he was coming to the bonfire, but before she could, Regan was gone. Literally gone. She’d become one with the sand. And sure, she knew her partner loved the beach, but not like this. She crouched to check up on her, “is the leg— I mean, the arm okay? Your arm…not, you get it” she craned her neck, wondering if the owner of the messed up castle was around. She didn't have to wonder too long, cause someone started screaming murder. "Um, she fell! It was an accident."

MADISON grinned. "In that case, how can I say no? The best thing about being in college is I can do whatever I want and eat whatever I want! Not that my parents ever put a stop to that back home, but eating cake just because feels so wild I could burst! Not literally, because then I'd be dead and that's not what I am or what I want to be, so yeah!" She turned toward the other woman. "I have not! I-d-k if there was one last year, but I've only been here that long so yep! This is new for me."

A wave of uncomfortable needles spread up TEAGAN'S back at the loud mention of a murderer on the beach. The nix whirled her head around a bit frantically, not seeing any faces she could recognize as murder-y. She continued to look, unsure of what the screaming was about, and when she landed on Zack, she stiffened. If he was there, perhaps Arden would make an appearance too. She stood up and shuffled her way around, seeing Jade and Reagan as couple-y as can be. She sighed, wiggling her way into a conversation with strangers. "Eggs, butter, chocolate, sugar...what about flour?"

To be honest, MOLLY hadn't considered joining anyone on a sandcastle build. She hadn't considered joining anyone because she really only knew a handful of people around here and this was one of her first big events she'd really paid any mind to since moving. "Yeah, you're right." She agreed, "I guess I'm just still new so I wasn't sure who to reach out to yet." She offered a shrug of her shoulder, the one that wasn't sore from her encounter earlier this week. And when Drew introduced herself, Molly looked at her again. "It's nice to meet you, Drew. I'm Molly," She said with a smile. "I've lived here for about a year but I don't get out much, until now. Or, rather I'm trying to get out more now."

At the outcry of someone being called a murderer, ELIAS couldn't help but look up. Sure enough, there was Regan, tripped over a sandcastle. Ah, so it wasn't real murder. Just sand-related murder. He took a step over toward Jade and Regan, overhearing his name. His heart sank. Of course that's how he was being painted in their eyes. He had to get over himself.

"I think murder is a crazy word to jump to," Elias finally spoke, looking over toward Thea with a bemused expression. Hiz gaze flickered over to Jade and Regan crouched in the sand, then gave a single nod of his head. Hopefully that would be enough for now.

ZACK grinned at Lil's comment, casting his eyes to the side, watching the little guy happily devour his marshmallow. "Isn't he neat? His name is Zippo." Turning back to Lil, he shrugged sheepishly. "I'd offer to let you pet him, but unfortunately he...ah...runs kind of hot, so you might get burnt." Which he knew was something like an insane thing to say, but he didn't want Lil to get hurt. He had gotten scorched a few times, early on after adopting Zippo.

Zack turned at the sound of someone screaming about murder, but that seemed to be more about sandcastles than actual murder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Teagan, heard the lilt of her accent... But he wasn't exactly sure where he stood with the woman, and so he let himself focus on the surfer instead. "You're asking for a visit to the burn unit, with that." He wanted to comment that he could help in growing the flames but, obviously, that would be saying too much. "Unless you're the Jackof 'nimble' and 'quick' fame."

There was some commotion further up the beach that caught DREW’S attention but once it died down she was able to pull herself back to the conversation at hand with Molly. “Sometimes it’s best to stay as far away from the goingson in this town. I’m honestly only here because I’m technically working, but I might grab a s’more later if I’m really feeling crazy.” She joked. She would have much preferred to slip into her pelt and go swimming but she knew that with so many witnesses around that wouldn’t have been a good idea at all. “I’ve been here a couple years but still don’t know that many people and sometimes I think that’s a good thing.” Another splash, closer that time. Drew became a statue as she tried once again to figure out where it had come from. “Were you feeding the fish?” She asked Molly. “Because I think something’s really trying to get our attention.”

REGAN landed on top of at least two sandcastles, the moose limb bag clutched to her chest. Unscathed. And she didn't even scream. At least two positives, right? But then a finger pointed at her, and a child started screaming (unimpressively). Regan bristled. "It's mine. And it's not technically a leg!" Regan climbed to her feet. Addressing these lies was more important than anything else right now. "What was it that you were making anyhow? Not a human being. I'm no murderer." She looked emphatically toward Jade, who always had her back (not literally). "Maybe you're the murderer. You call that art? Perhaps I improved it, now that it's been in the presence of a moose limb. That was missing before. If you had introduced it to some decomposition, maybe I would've noticed it in front of my feet. You killed art." Regan didn't know anything about art.

There were a lot of eyes on her right now, weren't there. "Stop shouting," Regan hissed at the child. First time she'd ever said that. "People are starting to--" Tall, anxiety flying off him, half-trying to duck away even as he spoke. Regan's arms went slack, and she almost dropped the moose limb. "It's... fine," she said to Jade. But her eyes were on Elias. Her voice was quiet. "I should have stayed in the sand. I can make a convincing cadaver when necessary." Too late now.

MONICA wasn't quite sure what she was expecting as a response, but she beamed when someone nodded back at her enthusiastically, then even more so when their companion offered her a stick of her own. "Sure! I love smores! Thank you, nice people. I'm Monica!" She said, plopping down next to Zack and Lil. As she started to skewer some marshmallows, she raised an eyebrow at the surfer who had strolled up beside her. "Well if someone were to call a fire hazard on this, then they'd be a certified party pooper!"

As Monica was about to hold her treats over the fire, her head whipped around at the sound of commotion near the sandcastles. She wasn't quite sure what was happening, but between the people yelling and people on the floor, there was clearly some destruction happening. "Oh shit! Our sandcastle!" She yelped at the thought of her and Estella's sandcastle getting caught in the line of fire. As quickly as she had inserted herself into the bonfire group, she dropped her marshmallow stick onto the sand and bolted off. "Sorry!! You guys are super cool but I need to check on something," she called out to her momentary acquaintances at the fire as she headed towards the sandcastle commotion.

EVE's spine itched as more people walked past. It felt like as soon as one fae had walked a little further out, another fae passed close by. With so many people milling about,it was impossible to parse out who was was, but it was uncomfortable. Someone screamed about murder, and Eve glanced over briefly, but it looked like it was just about a sandcastle. (And it was Thea doing the yelling. No thanks.) No one she recognised as a Ranger either, damn it. She glanced back at Madison and her enthusiastic energy. "I wouldn't want you to burst, but have as much as you like! And oh my god, welcome to town! This is a good time of year to be here!"

Just then, someone else joined. Eve looked over at the stranger with a smile, shifting her weight again to keep the Astomi out of view for both of them. "No flour, so it's totally gluten free! Do you want some?"

LIL chuckled and shook her head, “Nah I don’t want Zippo to feel uncomfortable. And it’s nice to meet you Monica.” She said handing over a stick and the bag of marshmallows. At the idea of jumping over the bonfire she raised and eyebrow but pulled a fire extinguisher slightly out of her bag. She had learned from her older siblings, and well demons that it was pretty good practice to have one when you were going to be around fire. “I mean go ahead I got a - yeah it’s not expired.” Admittedly at the idea of murder Lil looked up and saw that it wasn’t anything that was her business and shrugged instead making her smore. She was sure it would calm down and she saw Jade over there. If they needed help someone would go holler she was sure.

“Nah,” Raul waved with jocular dismissiveness at Zack’s caution, “Besides, that’d just help sterilize the sunburns right? Healthy, hygienic. Wait,” he frowned, “Jack Quick? That you,” the Spaniard asked pointing at Zack. “Oh I see how it is,your the fire jump champ trying to psych me out! I’ll take you up on …” Raul looked over at Monica’s compliment “oh uh thanks! Do you wanna ….oh ok, bye “

With her jeans cuffed around her ankles, Molly was on her way to the water along the outskirts of the bonfire gathering. She figured she'd have plenty of time to mingle but wanted to give herself a slow start as to not overwhelm herself too quickly. A comfortable smile settled across her lips as she spotted Madison arriving too, and Molly couldn't help but feel proud of Madison for getting out and about too. "Hey!" She waved and approached her, "I'm glad to see you decided to come today! I'm proud of both of us for making it out of the house." She added with a laugh.

No flour? TEAGAN almost grimaced, but kept her face free of disgust. It wasn't fair. Some people couldn't handle that delicious gluten. It was actually thoughtful to bring something for dietary restrictions. On top of that, the woman was cute and appeared to try to be the center of attention. Teagan could play along. "Cute." She smiled, "What is your dish exactly?"

He was hearing a few voices he recognized (and many he didn't), but GUILLERMO wasn't sure about getting up and wandering around without an escort at this point. He had his cane, but the warmth and smell of the fire was a bit off-putting, not to mention that people could be sitting literally anywhere and he wouldn't know until he ran into them.

Besides, someone was yelling about murder, and he'd just as soon stay out of that. He was feeling a little peckish, though, and had no idea where the food was. Of course the ocean was a fair bet in that regard, and he could definitely listen and sniff his way there. His stomach grumbled and he decided to give it a go, getting up from where he was sitting and dusting off his shorts. Then he started to wander toward the sound of the waves, moving slowly and carefully so he didn't end up stepping on anyone else's sandcastle. Finally, the sand turned wet and the waves hit his feet, and all at once he felt better. Folding up the cane and tucking it under his arm, the shifter quickly shuffled his way into the water and sat back down where it came up to his chest. He could just... wait for the fish to come to him, right?

There were a lot of people talking to her, and MADISON wondered if this was what it felt like to be popular. She did feel more than a little bit overwhelmed, but she could feel her heart relax. "Hi Professor Hiatt!! How are you?" There was another person too. "This is real nice, I think! I did bring one of my books on Linear Algebra in case I have some time just to hang out. Unless any of you fancy some neat math on the beach?"

Before ZACK could offer a greeting to Monica, she was off, running toward the sandcastle massacre. Secretly, he was grateful for Lil's caution. He was fairly certain he could tackle any fire related problems that might arise, but back-up was always smart to have.

The surfer's optimism about fire and sunburns didn't sound right to Zack, but he didn't know enough about medicine to dispute it. He did laugh as the other man turned it into a challenge. "Oh, you got me. I won the National Fire Jump Championship the last five years. I'm not Jack Quick, though I do rhyme. I'm Zack." He offered a hand to shake, swinging his skewer around with the other hand to get his marshmallow back into the heat.

"You're working?" MOLLY asked, "What kind of work are you doing here? If you don't mind me asking." She asked Drew curiously. "And I've heard that from several people lately, mentions of keeping quiet and not asking questions around here." For Molly it was a struggle because she was innately curious but at the same time tended to avoid awkward situations at any cost. "But a s'more sounds great so if you want company, I'm down for that kind of party." A sweet treat was going to be necessary this evening. Then, Molly heard the splashing again. She noticed Drew go rigid, as if attempting to pinpoint the source. "Uh, no." Molly said. "I don't usually feed things, unless it's ducks at a pond.." There was splashing again. "What'd you say we go and get those s'mores earlier than planned..." She offered, now feeling a little uneasy at the repetetive sound of something lurking around the water.

“You’re only saying that because it wasn’t you who was murdered,” THEA said to the extremely tall man. He must have been, like, a billion feet tall. Of course, Thea was taller unglamoured but the only competition here was for sandcastles. Thea gestured to the leg—it was obviously a leg. Then to Lumpy Dog, obviously deceased. The sand had the imprint of the woman’s face, almost perfectly, like a fossil.

“Sand has feelings! But I don’t expect someone with a contraband leg to understand the nuances of art and life and love and liberty and another L-word. But not like the TV show.” Thea huffed and then sensed something in the air. Something… dare she think it… awkward. Thea was very good at sensing personal history, mostly because she didn’t have any. She looked at the woman who was with the murderer, and the tall man, and then the murderer. She nodded slowly. “I’m sensing unease, at least a five on the THEA UNEASE SCALE(tm),” she said, stepping back. “Maybe even, like, personal regret.”

Daniel showed up later than originally planned, but it wasn’t as if he minded. He preferred moving through the area unnoticed and joining in with the commotion happening all around the beach. He heard someone yelling about murder, but seeing the lack of reactions from everyone else, he decided it probably wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. He glanced around the area, and he spotted a few familiar faces. He thought maybe he could swing by and chat with some folks, but then he saw Eve. He felt more comfortable with her than the others. He saw others were with her, but he assumed he could hop into whatever conversation they were having. He probably wouldn’t have much to say anyway. He moved through the people towards her. “Hey, Eve,” he greeted, always a man of many words.

DREW snorted and shook her head. “No thanks, I wasn’t planning on doing any kind of math tonight as a way to relax. If anything it would make me more stressed than I already am… but thanks for the offer, I guess.” She chuckled again at the odd request that Madison had made. “I promise I'd be of no use to you when it comes to school work."

Suddenly, somebody else was by their side. It wasn’t surprising that Elias came out of his failed hiding once she noticed Regan’s fall. Like, sure things were awks and a lotta stuff had to be discussed between all of them, but he had a heart as soft as hand butts, of course his heartstrings were pulled seeing his bestie in need. JADE nodded at him and left it at that, deciding it was better to join forces against whoever was claiming Regan was a murderer. Three against one felt a little bit like bullying, but who cried murder first? “Right? It’s literally sand. Like, what’s next? Claiming that killing dead people is murder?” She huffed at this person, who also looked vaguely familiar. Maybe they’d talked online before. She had no way of knowing they felt so passionately about sandcastles.

Jade helped Regan get on her feet, predicting the verbal smackdown that was about to ensue when the sorta stranger came for her leg (the one in her hands, not her literal leg). If she felt some type of way about Regan going full Karen, that was neither here nor there. Except it was definitely here. But again, Jade subscribed to the ‘no conflict during bonfires’ policy, so she did look to diffuse the situation. “Okay, guys… nobody killed anybody here, come on,” least of all, herself (obviously). She sensed the vibe shift once Regan realized who had also come to her aid, so now things were extra tense. The stranger, who came with their own personal scale, now spoke some sense. (She was gonna need to hear more about this scale, too.) (Like how was it in comparison to the her scale of bad vibes from 2 to 9?). “Right! Why don’t we all put our hands into rebuilding the castle?

LIL's eyebrow raised at the idea that the two were actually going to jump over the bonfire, but then again it seemed pretty tame with everything else seemingly going on. Munching on the smore she just said, "Might want to wait for later when it's further down." She saw - something scampering and her eyes narrowed to see a ... nose? It looked kind of like a nose with a body and not the other way around. Still, she kept calm letting the little creature scamper on the outskirts of the bonfire. It didn't seem demonic, and it was a ghost. Simply it wasn't her day to deal with it.

ELIAS Took in a breath, then nodded in agreement with Thea. "Yeah, me too." He muttered to the girl before giving a two-fingered salute to Regan and Jade before striding off to where someone sat, looking out toward the ocean. Yeah, that's definitely more his speed than dealing with a THEA UNEASE SCALE (TM) rating.

"What's the plan here?" Elias asked as he waded into the water beside the serene-looking stranger. "Whatever it is, it's better than ninety percent of what's happening over there." He looked over to Guillermo, then took a deep breath. Maybe he shouldn't have come. Maybe he should have stayed indoors.

"I'm doing alright!" MOLLY told Madison, and she found herself shaking her head. "And it's okay if you call me Molly, I don't mind being on a first name basis with students." She encouraged all of her theatre students to call her by her first name. It was how everyone had greeted each other across the professional world of theatre so as long as the respect was there, Molly had no problem encouraging that among her students. And she couldn't help but laugh as Madison mentioned her Algebra book. "I also have a book in my bag, but it's Shakespeare, which is way more my style than math. Unless we're counting shells I'm not sure math on the beach is a task I'm up for." It was never Molly's strongest subject. "Have you tried any of the food yet? I'm starving."

“I’m a marine conservationist, I’m just making sure that the beach is properly cleaned once this whole thing is over with.” DREW was still preoccupied with searching for the source of the splashing but Molly’s comment about feeding ducks instantly grabbed her attention. “What’re you feeding the ducks? You have to be very careful that you’re not harming them, their stomachs can be really sensitive.” She nodded, looking out at the water one more time. “Yeah, sure, let’s go. We can bring your math friend too so long as she doesn’t ask me to solve any equations.”

Madison was distracted by someone else approaching, so EVE turned to the other woman with a smile. "It's a gateau Marcel! My mom taught me the recipe when I was a kid, it's half cake, half mousse." There was an Astomi snuffling around her ankle. "I love your skirt, by the way! I have a dress with that patchwork style in blue, it's so cute." Eve pointed down at the detail, aiming to draw Teagan's eyes away. When she looked back up, oops, that Astomi would be nowhere to be seen. And if it splashed into the ocean next to where a couple people were fishing, hey, that was free bait, right?

GUILLERMO lifted his chin in the general direction of the new voice, brows raised. "Huh? Oh! I'm fishing!" He stuck his arms out in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times underwater, then he laughed. "I... might not be very good at it, though. I was kind of just hoping they'd ccome to me--" He let out a surprised squeak as there was a large splash beside them, then reactively tried to grab for it. "A FISH!" he yelled, catching something... not covered in scales. Ew. What was that texture? He held it up, looking at the stranger standing next to him. "What is it?"

Rushing up to where she and Estella had left their sandcastle entry, MONICA let out a huge sigh of relief to see that it was unharmed. She couldn't say the same for one of the sand creations a few spots down, where several people seemed to be having a particularly tense standoff beside a crushed sand pile. Her intention was to sneak past them as quickly as she had rushed over here, maybe return to the nice people at the fire and brush off the sand from her marshmallows, but the mentions of "murderer" and "contraband" caused her to let out a surprised squeak. "Oh! I'm sorry! Pretend I'm not here," she said to the seemingly grumpy group standing before her, a little bit more weary of what was going on here. However, at the mention of rebuilding a sandcastle, Monica couldn't resist herself. "I can help with that if you want!! I love building sandcastles!!"

"Okay, I'll call you Molly if you're really truly sure about that." MADISON sighed. The other woman didn't want to do math either, which she supposed she should have expected, but that didn't make it any less disappointing. "Okay. I guess no math on the beach right now. Also no, I haven't really had food, but that lady," she gestured at Eve, "was offering me some sort of cake, but I'm starving." She turned the other woman too. "Do you wanna come and get food with us?"

Raul smiled and reached forward to shake Zack’s hand, the motion hopefully not clotheslining some poor sod with the surfboard under his other arm. “Raul, honored to meet the reigning beach gamer here,” he said with an inclination of the head, affecting iron awe at Zack’s status. “So like, if you iguana ruts hot, is it going to sshhlep” Raul made a motion that seemed to suggest Zippo had a chameleon tongue. The wizard knew and was confused by the presence of a salamander here, but had decided to opt for stupidity’s natural camouflage. “And cook some of these mallows with its tongue….can I throw one for him to catch. That’d be sick.”

Ah, so the dish didn't need flour at all. How awful it was for TEAGAN to assume. "Do love a good mousse. How long did it take for you to make?" Sadly, her attendance had been up in the air up until the last moment, Teagan had nothing prepared. "I like to cook and bake myself, but didn't think I was coming so unfortunately you don't get to taste my work."

REGAN was preparing to do... something. She wasn't sure what yet. But her mouth was hanging open, her finger was half-pointed in Elias's direction, but now there was no one there. He just left. How could he do that? Sure, Regan had specifically wished to avoid him--there was too much there--but that... he just left!

Jade was trying to diffuse things, Regan could tell, but if she were to try to build a sandcastle right now (which she wouldn't, because she wasn't a child, unlike the child) her hands would build an Elias-shaped clump of sand. Or maybe his organs. Him, though. "Let's just burn the coat," Regan mumbled. She looked over her shoulder at Elias, then away, then back. He looked like a buoy in the water, but covered in skin. "I'm going to unwrap the limb, let it air out a bit. The smell should be a nice reprieve from all of this." She pressed in to Jade, intertwining their arms. Was Jade at least having an... engaging ti-- fun time here? That mattered more than the insistent prickling of her skin and fog of grief that drifted over her in Elias's place.

They headed toward the fire, and Regan set the bag down and lovingly pulled out the limb. The moose limb and Jade. She wouldn't let anything else get to her-- those were her two loves right there. She'd wrapped it in plastic (the limb, not Jade). Something was wrong though. Like it dried out or... maybe the plastic was effective at keeping the smell contained. Regan gave it a puzzled look as she freed the not-leg.

ZACK nodded at Lil's warning -- not actually intending to do any fire-leaping at all. He hoped Raul was only joking about that as well. He did laugh again as Raul turned his attention to Zippo. "He's a salamander actually. I don't think he has quite the same kinda tongue..." Not as long or accurate as an iguanas, anyway. "But he did already have a marshmallow and he seemed to really like it, so he might still dive bomb for one." Raul didn't know how close he was to guessing Zippo's abilities. "We're probably better off sticking to the bonfire to cook these things."

THEA shook her head as she watched the murderer go—though she felt she did like the murderer’s more sensible, hand-holding friend. She waved but tried to indicate that the wave was only for the nice lady, not the murderer. “Wow, those two are such good friends,” she mumbled.

Then, she turned to her hero: this new, spunky stranger. “Hi! Thanks! Let’s rebuild! I’m thinking lumps and bumps, but cute!” Thea stuck out her hand to this cool, new, amazing, awesome person who would never destroy a sandcastle. “I’m Thea!” Dimly, Thea was aware that she had another mission. Something about… Ass-toe-me? Eh, it probably wasn’t important. Look at this cool new friend that she was totally going to make!

“I’m LIL”, she said as Raul introduced himself ducking slightly as the surfboard got close-ish to her. “I’m not much of a fire jumper. She didn’t jump a whole lot anyway, after all she usually had wheels on. Lil raised an eyebrow as Jade and Regan got closer to the bonfire with a - leg? She had heard sometimes people roasted things on bonfires but she hadn’t seen it here. “Uh what’s up?” She said looking at Regan trying to connect exactly what was going on and if she was going to have to do something.

"Oh, that's neat!" MOLLY replied with a nod, now it made sense. Otherwise Drew seemed to blend in perfectly with the other eventgoers so she wouldn't have realized she was on the clock. "And uhm, my mom would make a mix of corn, oats, and birdseed when we'd go. I got a lecture from her about never feeding them bread or anything else. But I haven't been to feed anything since I was a kid." Molly really didn't get out much. But she also took one more glance towards the water before turning to the bonfire. "Okay, no solving math equations, promise! But she did say that someone else was offering cake and I think cake always sounds better than doing math.."

It almost felt like Elias's presence had been an illusion or something, or maybe he was truly spooked by THEA’S UNEASE SCALE (™) (so that definitely meant this situation was a solid 8 in her scale). But just like he’d come, he peaced out on them. (Honestly, she was sensing a theme) (But at least he wasn’t gone to travel the world; he was like, right there, a few feet away, talking to somebody else near the water. JADE didn’t let her disappointment show, cause at least Elias was out there being social, which was a total plus in her book, and cause they had the matter of the sandcastles to rebuild, if Thea wanted it done.

And she would’ve had so much fun building a castle with THEA (should she scream their name anytime she mentioned it?), but alas, Regan seduced her with the prospect of finally burning the coat. Yup. 13 out of 13, right there. “Let’s go do that, babe,” she said, but glanced at THEA with an apologetic smile on her face. “Super sorry about this accident, though. A total non-murderous accident. Hm? I definitely plan on making it up to you. I’ll build all the castles you want, pinky promise. There’s just the thing I need to get to first. I've been meaning to do it for a year, you understand...” And so she walked away, with Regan by her side and the coat clutched in her hands.

ELIAS made a horrified sound as the Astomi was brought up to his face, causing him to stumble backward and stare at the thing. "It looks like a sentient nose." He exclaimed, shaking his head. He felt wrong, like he should leave. Everything about this place was quickly becoming more than he could handle. He looked over his shoulder, noticing Regan staring at him, but couldn't quite make out her expression. He messed up again, hadn't he? He looked back towards the other, shaking his head. He'd deal with it later, just like everything else.

"I'm definitely sure about it!" MOLLY told Madison with a confident nod. And she glanced at Drew, too. "No math right now," But maybe she'd let Madison impress her with some of her math skills later. She felt a little bad now that no one seemed to take her up on the offer. "But I think cake sounds like an excellent plan!"

EVE smiled at Madison and the woman she was talking to. "Food would be great, let's!" And began to move with them, inviting Teagan along with. Her gait was awkward, the prosthetic leg struggling more with the dry loose sand than she usually did, and the bright sun was warming the black plastic on her thigh and making her warm. A cool drink would certainly help. She answered Teagan's question, "About an hour, with overnight setting. What made you come by last minute?" She looked to the three of them. "I didn't catch your names, by the way! I'm Eve." There were more Astomi by the pot luck table. For fuck sake.

"A... sentient nose?" Well that was a confusing statement. It sort of explained the weird skin, though. Sort of. "So not a fish. Okay." GUILLERMO shoved to his feet, reeled the creature back behind his head with both hands, then threw it as hard and as far as he could out to see. "I don't have anything against noses, but that's just a little too much for me, I think." He turned to face Elias, scrunching his nose. "I know there's food here, um... I'm just worried about getting there on my own. Could you show me the way? I don't think I'm going to catch a fish and I definitely don't want to catch another nose."

MONICA watched the tense crowd disperse one by one until only one other person remained. "Were you the owner of this...this?" She gestured to the crumpled creation. "Don't worry, we'll build it back even better than it was! Lumpy, bumpy, and very cute!" She happily shook the other's hand, grinning at them before kneeling down onto the sand. "I'm Monica! It's very nice to meat you, Thea!" As she gathered a sizeable mound of sand in front of her, she couldn't help but let her curiosity get the better of her. "Erhm, what were you talking about with those other people? Something about murder and legs?"

Raul gave Lil a pleading look, as if concern for potentially charbroiling people was cruel and unusual. “Hey but like, we gotta take up the challenge,” he told Lil as if their real concern was just intimidation at Zack’s hyper hops. “Otherwise Zack’ll just rest on his laurels, get soft, have no character development,” Raul shook his head, wet hair flopping about mournfully. “The worst part of every sports movie.”

“Woah a wild snoot…” The hell was that feyish nostril goblin doing here! What!? “ Ooooooh yeah I forgot …iguana reptile, salamander mammals,” Raul nodded at Zack’s ecological correction, keep his face amiable. “Eh alright,” he commented at Lil’s demurement. “Bet your better then you think though”

ELIAS made a face, then sighed. "Yeah, I don't think I could explain it if I tried," he admitted sheepishly. "It's definitely too much for me too! Let's... go eat things, yeah!" He looked toward Guillermo, then nodded. "Yeah, I can help you. Can I take your arm?" He asked, unsure of what the boundaries were when helping someone who was seeing impaired.

"Alright, then I'll believe you!" Because otherwise her nerves would get the better of her (as it was, this already seemed well on its way to happening). "Food is good. Yes. I hope they have at least something with potatoes. You can't go wrong with potatoes. At least I think." MADISON tried not to let herself be bothered by people's refusal to do mathematics with her. "Let's go eat!"

“Thanks. I like it, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” Completely unsure of how she’d gone from wanting absolutely nothing to do with the gathering to somehow being accompanied by two people on her way to grab some food, DREW exhaled sharply but decided that she was too far gone to turn back. Nodding to both Molly and Madison, she begrudgingly removed her feet from the water and turned to join the rest of the residents further up the beach. She remained quiet, much more comfortable with listening to the other two speak and only paying attention enough to know if and when a question was pointed towards her. By doing that she was able to pick up that Molly was some kind of teacher and Madison was a student. She enjoyed learning things about people, especially if she was going to be able to use it in the future.

REGAN leaned back and breathed deep, expecting to be met with glorious decomposition, but there was nothing. "It's a limb," she said to Lil. "But it's..." She held it up a bit. It dripped fluid onto her lap. "It's in the wet stage now, but I don't smell a thing." In fact, she couldn't smell the fire, either. Or any of the food. Or sweat or perfume or anything. Had she lost her sense of smell? Regan turned to her side and pressed her nose into Jade's hair, but she couldn't scent her shampoo at all. "Nothing..." She swallowed the warning in her throat. It wasn't time to panic yet, but the offense of losing those particular smells cut deep. "Can you smell it?" Regan held the weeping moose limb closer to Lil's face.

GUILLERMO beamed and stuck out his arm when asked, nodding enthusiastically. "Please! Sorry I'm all wet." They made their way carefully back across the sand toward where the tables of food were, and the shifter was surprised at how little of the food he could smell. "Hm... is there anything here that looks seafood-y to you? Seafood is my favorite. If there's shrimps, I'll go apeshit." He chuckled. "I'm kidding. I just learned that word last week and wanted to use it."

MOLLY smiled as Drew mentioned that it was a job she'd always wanted to do. Molly loved when people were able to find something that they enjoyed for work, and Drew's job seemed like it was fulfilling for her. As she walked between Drew and Madison towards the main gathering, she smiled at Madison. "You really can't go wrong with potatoes," She agreed, and noted two others joining on the other side of Madison. She caught that one of them was named Eve. And it wasn't until they got closer to the potluck table that Molly noticed the incredibly odd looking creatures milling about. Was it just a big walking nose? Molly thought. She leaned closer to Drew and nodded her head in the direction of the creatures. "I wonder if those were the source of the splashing we heard..."

LIL raised her eyebrow looking at the fire and then back at Raul. “I’ll let Zack have this one.” When the other came closer with her to the limb, ordinarily Lil might have done something like scream or leave the area, but the genuine confusion and the distress made her lean in to take a sniff. “Uh - no it doesn’t smell like anything - that’s so weird.” She said curiously. She wasn’t a stranger to decay and rot, and she knew what it should smell like. Frowning she saw another one of those nose scuttling around and tilted her head. “Something's afoot - or maybe a nose?”

Monica was actually the coolest person ever. THEA just casually had to seduce Monica into being a friend. No biggie! That was so easy to do. Thea crouched into the sand and started pushing the lumps and bumps together. “So, uh, you come here often or….” At the mention of the previous interaction, Thea shrugged. “Y’know, it’s like… the haters and stuff y’know, y’know,” she said, trying very hard to sound unaffected. “This lady with a leg—by the way, a full contraband leg—just like, totally murdered Lumpy Dog. See! You can still see her face in the sand!” Thea pointed it out. “Memorize that face, Monica, for it is the face of sand-murder.” Thea continued pushing sand into a general lump shape.

Linking his arm with Guillermo's, ELIAS ignored the sinking pit in his stomach as he guided the shifter towards the tables dedicated to the food people had brought. "Being wet is the least of our worries in place like this," Elias admitted with a deep sigh. As they reached the tables, he looked about. "I see a shrimp cocktail, yeah." He then said, bringing the man to stand in front of it. "Right in front of you, reach straight out and you'll touch it."

TEAGAN felt relieved. "Figure it would be good to get out of the house." And it was. She was meeting all new people and even got invited to continue on to the next stop, happy to see that food would be involved. And apparently some of the more pest-like kin. Since she didn't know who was human and not, Teagan decided to pretend they were simply normal. It was easy considering Eve was enjoyable to look at. "I'm Teagan." She walked side to side with Eve, asking "Do you need something to help with the sand?" Eve seemed fine, but sand was incredibly invasive and difficult even without a prosthetic.

ZACK gave a little bow as Lil decided to let him keep his entirely fictive title. Offering a salute to the two, he made his way back toward the table to assemble his s'more. He kept one eye on the crowd of people, looking for a familiar face, or just someone who looked like they could use a friend (or a flirt).

Sticking his hand out as instructed, GUILLERMO wiggled his fingers around until he touched a shrimp, then grinned and snatched it up. "Yes!" He popped the whole thing into his mouth, tail and all, happily munching away. His hands went out again, this time to grab a fistful of the shrimp, and he detached himself from Elias. "Sorry, you can have your arm back to get yourself some food now too! What kinds do you like?"

To DREW’S great pleasure even more people joined their party and things officially started to feel overcrowded. As a way to keep from turning around and going back to the shadows where she was most comfortable, she busied herself with twirling her necklaces around her finger and keeping her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary which, thanks to Molly, wasn’t hard at all.

Drew frowned as she observed the strange creatures that appeared to just be... noses? “What the hell…?” She wanted to get a closer look but decided that it was probably best to keep some distance. “Yeah see, this is exactly why I keep to myself in this town. Eventually you’ll learn that it’s the best thing to do. The weird shit is kept to a bare minimum whenever I'm safely at home."

Raul solemnly returned Zack’s salute. “And so the champion departs to lands unknown,” he intoned with gravitas broken by a soft chuckle. The surfer promptly plopped on the sand beside the fire. “Yeah asnoot,” he replied to Lil, but kept his peace as it become clear that we were sniff testing stray body …parts? Raul looked at one of the passing little creatures, wondering if one of them had assumed the human form of Regan. Was she their alpha? Was the nose-pack circling for a limb feast? “Huh.. guess the sand-pipers are molting he said,” eye to eye with a passing nose goblin.

MONICA frowned. "Screw the haters! They just hate seeing other people succeed, you know?" She said as she recalled some of her own biggest haters. "Contraband leg? Like a turkey leg for the potluck?" She simply couldn't imagine what other sort of leg Thea could be talking about. As she gazed over to the faint imprint in the sand, Monica squinted hard at it before giving a determined nod. "Right! We shall get justice for Lumpy Dog! We can't just let leg lady get away with this," she said as her eyes darted over to the bonfire where the pair had gone. Seeing the nice fire guy and marshmallow lady and surfer dude from before still there, she momentarily thought about going to warn them, but forced herself to focus on one thing at a time.

"As for your other question, I do come here often! The beach is soooo nice in the summer, don't you think" She said to Thea, packing some more sand onto the back of Thea's lump and poking some indents into it.

"Amen to that. Anyway, it's good to get out and meet the neighbors, right?" EVE agreed. "Community spirit goes a long way in a town like this. And hey, now we get to enjoy your company too." She grinned, noticing Teagan's appreciative looks. She smiled and shook her head at the offer. "I'm fine, just slow. It would be easier if it had rained this morning, but I'm not going to complain about the sunshine while it lasts." They reached the pot luck tables, and eve carefully nudged an Astomi under the table and out of sight.

"Asnoot - That's a lot better," LIL said with a laugh sighing slightly as she stretch letting the fire keep warming her. "In anycase I don't think their hurting anyone." She looked around at other people nodding as Zach disappeared and said, "Still free smore stuff if anyone's interested." Settling into the position Lil felt pretty good that no weird demons would come to the bonfire, and for once the chaos seemed just a little bit more manageable then normal - or at least out of her wheelhouse.

MOLLY's eyes narrowed as she studied the creatures from what was hopefully a safe distance for now. Drew seemed just as surprised and Molly wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. "Have you ever seen those before?" She inquired. "It's just... a nose?" Maybe Drew was right. Up until recently Molly would say that outside of a few hiccups, she'd had a pretty normal experience living in Wicked's Rest so far. Now that she was trying to get herself out there, she was noticing more and more very odd things. "Yeah, I think I'm seeing what you mean by that." Surely these things seemed harmless, though? "It's a shame though because I'm really trying to get back out there and meet people again. Finding a balance of comfort and not wanting to become a meal for something is honestly not something I'd considered would be necessary before I moved here."

Staring blankly at Guillermo, ELIAS shook his head. "Sorry, I... need to leave." He decided instead. "Enjoy your shrimp, I... I'm sorry." And with that, Elias's anxiety finally got the better of him, and his arm slipped away from the stranger's to instead make way to his car. Everything was too much. At least he could escape to his car while he still had the chance.

"Oh! That's okay! Um, have a good rest of your day!" GUILLERMO shouted after him, rocking back onto his heels while he munched on the shrimp, wondering what he was gonna do now. Eat, he supposed. Hopefully people wouldn't mind him putting his fingers all over everything. Salt water was disinfecting, right? Right. He'd totally heard that somewhere before.

THEA pushed everything together and stood up. In the end, her and Monica had… a much more phallic looking Lumpy Dog. Thea followed Monica’s gaze. “We should join them,” she said softly. “Now that we’ve successfully repaired Lumpy Dog.” She nudged Monica, smiling. Her chest—where her heart would be, if she had one—felt warm. “I need a beach expert like you to help me navigate,” she said, trying to wink but it was more like a very slow blink. Maybe the two would raise awareness about the evil leg lady, maybe they would make new friends, maybe they even partake in a s’more. Thea caught sight of Eve and her evil blonde bob and suddenly remembered the astomi. Maybe they would deal with that. The world was their sandcastle and anything was possible with Monica—a girl she literally just met but now was unhealthily emotionally attached to; such was the way of the beach and of Lumpy Dog.

"I suppose you're right. More often than not, I find that the neighbors are awful, but I can't just give up when people like you are around." TEAGAN shrugged, "As long as it's not too much of an obstacle." They got to the table and Teagan picked up a plate to fill it up with fruit and the mousse Eve made. She took a bite with everything combined and her eyes rolled back in satisfaction. "My, this is delicious." Teagan looked over at Molly and the astomi she was referencing. "I wouldn't pay those...kids much mind." She took another delightful bite, calculating her next words. Carefully, she spoke again, picking everything so it wasn't a lie, but still misleading. "You know how elaborate costumes can be around here."

DREW shook her head. “No, never, and I hope that I never see another one after tonight.” She’d run into her fair share of “oddities” around town since her arrival and while each one was disturbing yet fascinating in its own way, she much preferred to stay as far away from the strangeness as possible. She was a little happy to hear that Molly was more or less thinking the same way and she offered a small smile. “At least you’re aware of the fact that there’s things around here that wouldn’t hesitate to turn you into dinner, there’s a lot of very oblivious people around here and they’re almost as dangerous as the things hunting them. Stupidity is a threat to everyone involved.” She glanced at the strange creatures again before deciding that she’d had enough. “Alright, I’m gonna grab something to eat then go around and make sure everyone’s cleaning up after themselves.” This was always the awkward part, thanking someone she hadn’t intended to meet for hanging out with her when she’d planned to be alone. “It was… nice meeting you. See you around?”

Though MONICA had no clue what the original Lumpy Dog had looked like, she was ecstatic at their final creation - and the fact that she made a new friend! She was a little confused why Thea was slowly blinking at her, as if she was sending her some sort of secret message, but she just blinked back with a smile. "I would totally love to be your beach expert," she said with a mock salute, then grabbed Thea's wrist as she dragged them back to the main group. "Now come on!"

Upon her return to the fire, Monica was thrilled to see that her first friends were still there. "Hi! Oh my god, I'm so sorry I rushed off like that. So rude of me! I just had to make sure my sandcastle was okay after some murderer went on a rampage," she said apologetically to the group, then giving a dirty look in the vague direction of wherever the leg lady had gone. Glad to see that her discarded skewer was still on the ground, she brushed off the sand nonchalantly and stuck it in the fire. Though she could've sworn she saw something run at her feet, she was not going to let something else distract her from her tasty treat.

MOLLY couldn't agree more with Drew's sentiment. "Yeah, I'd been a little oblivious at first, and then a little reckless more recently." She still couldn't shake the encounter on her way home from campus a few nights ago. She was sure that stupidity and naiveté got people killed around here and she really didn't want that to happen to her. "But I'm much more aware now than I was before." What on earth had she gotten herself into? But she was happy to run into someone like Drew. In all, she was happy with her decision to venture out to the bonfire. "It was nice meeting you, too! And yeah, definitely!" She nodded, eyeing the aforementioned cake that she was definitely going to swipe a piece from on her way out. "I'm gonna try to get back home safely before it gets too late. Um, good luck with the cleanup!" TEAGAN waved to Eve as she sauntered off, letting her gaze wander a bit. She smiled to herself, looking at Molly and Drew, waving to them too. "Have a good night, everyone!"

#writing #bondfire 2025 #c jade #c elias #c lil #c thea

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kadavernagh · 6 days ago

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TIMING: April 2025 LOCATION: The Common PARTIES: Wyatt (@luckylockjaw) & Regan (@kadavernagh) SUMMARY: A scenario no one but Wyatt could have seen coming throws two strangers into one another's orbit when a rogue pigeon does the unthinkable. Regan has to think quickly to save his life. CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use tw

—

Regan was still picking short, white beard hairs off of her turtleneck. How they managed to get through her PPE was a mystery greater than some of the cases she worked on. She realized after plucking the 18th one off the fabric, grumbling in annoyance, that a walk through the Common might do her some good, even if some of the scraggly hedges reminded her of that uafás white beard. As of late, this was her favorite method of observation – with the living, at least. The dead taught Regan a lot, but being human was not part of the wisdom they offered her.

The humans who came out here in droves the second the weather topped 50 degrees, though? They really knew how to human. Regan was about to find herself a nice bench with a good vantage point when the peace was shattered. Screaming. And it wasn’t her. She did a mental self-check – were her lungs starting to pulse, breaths starting to grow deeper? No, she wasn’t about to scream for anyone. Not yet. So Regan bounded over toward the sound to make sure no one was injured, and she couldn’t make sense of the scene in front of her: a group of people scattering and shouting, looking up at the sky, pointing.

Regan squinted. There was something shooting over them like an arrow. Was that… a pigeon? Its talons gleamed.

A pigeon with a knife.

—

The winters never got easier, and every time the low temperatures started to roll up on him, Wyatt wondered why in the hell he’d moved north instead of just going west. “Could be layin’ on a beach in California right now,” he grumbled to himself as he meandered aimlessly down the sidewalk. It was warm for Maine, yes, but it wasn’t warm enough for him. This time of year in Louisiana, he’d be looking at mid-80s or low-90s, and he’d certainly be basking in a swamp somewhere. The locals seemed content enough with it, though, and Wyatt was trying to at least appreciate the fact that it was no longer below freezing.

Lost in his fantasy of what his life might look like if he was living in California instead, he was jolted back to alertness when someone screamed. Wide eyes quickly scanned the area, eventually following the line of sight of those in the Common toward the sky, where he realized why they were screaming. Well, a couple of them. Most people seemed a little confused or even amused, but Wyatt wasn’t. No, when his gaze fell upon his mortal enemy, a bird, he felt his stomach flip. And this wasn’t just any bird. This bird had a weapon. They were organizing. Or at least… ready to fight back.

The pigeon swooped through the air, diving dangerously close to the people down below. Those who had been laughing at the sight weren’t laughing now, ducking out of the way and yelping, fearing for their lives. As they always should have, Wyatt thought. Birds were straight up evil, and shit like this only continued to prove his point. “I knew it,” he said, mostly to himself. “I knew this day would come.” There was someone near him, someone he didn’t recognize but who he felt compelled to warn all the same. “There’ll be more, just you wait,” he said to her, nodding his head. “A whole damn army of ‘em. Any day now, mark my words. Payback for all the feathered fucks we done killed in town last year.”

—

Most people — most humans — probably would run the other way, seeing a bird attack civilians. And as much as Regan generally wanted to submit to what she knew was human nature, in this regard, she strived to be a cut above the rest. Jade, the exceptional woman she was, would have done the same, and Regan’s heart clenched with both admiration and unease at how contradictory it all felt now. Both of them needed to adjust their moral compasses and find true north again, but two broken compasses spinning next to each other, trying to use each other as their north, would still just be spinning in confused circles. Helping people, though, was unambiguous for both of them, wasn’t it?

More screaming (not especially impressive, but not disappointing). Regan tried to keep an eye on the chaos unfolding as she closed in, attempting to come up with explanations for what she was seeing. Had someone glued a knife to a bird as some kind of prank? Or was this a strange, bird-like drone? Actually, why couldn’t it simply be a bird that picked up a knife and didn’t quite know what to do with it? Yes, that was it. No further study needed on this one. Case closed. She was better at this than Emilio.

Regan stared at the man who came up beside her, her brow furrowing. What was he going on about? Out of all the possibilities, ‘bird uprising’ had not crossed her thoughts. Her eyes darted between the panicked people and the conspiratorial man who she was — for better or worse — too curious not to address. “Do clarify…” Regan said, “Are you saying that you think the birds are… organizing?” Regan’s eyes tracked the pigeon as it divebombed dangerously close to a group of people, a little girl releasing her balloon into the air in fright. It was an opportunity for a better look. The pigeon did seem strangely intent, like it knew exactly what it was doing, but didn’t pigeons always have that unsettling look in their eyes? The live ones, anyway — Regan approved of the dead ones. They hid nothing from her.

As the crowd moved out of the direct line of attack, Regan continued to process the man’s assertion. “Birds don’t… they don’t understand the concept of revenge. That’s a human thing, a human sentiment.” But was it? Regan hadn’t exactly looked at literature on the subject, and now wasn’t the time to start. “And even if they do, their brains are too simple and different from ours to—” Another scream pierced the air (better than the last) as the pigeon made another dive, this time cutting through the denim of someone’s jacket. Regan bolted forward to help, but her hands ended up on her own throat instead, as she felt her larynx vibrating in anticipation. Not for the victim — the scratch was not going to kill him — but for the panic her uncertainty stirred up. “Fócas óinseach.” she muttered, releasing her throat when it stilled. It listened for now, but it was as alive and unpredictable as an armed bird.

She rushed to take a look at the scratched man’s arm. Not serious. She made an impromptu wrap and urged him to leave and get the authorities. “I’m a medical examiner,” she said both for the victim’s benefit, and the man she was actually addressing — this bird ‘expert’. “So you see, I care only about facts. Medicine. Science. Empirical over anecdotal evidence. And this is anecdotal. Have you seen this occur anywhere else? Doubtful. Birds have no reason to attack people outside of disturbances to their nesting sites, and certainly not with knives. So this is no uprising. It’s a one-off. A witless bird with not a clue what it is doing. A pigeon practically identical to every other here.”

But as Regan spoke, the pigeon finally landed, settling on a bench as it preened the blood from its feathers, still raising the knife in one of its feet. And it looked at her, those round, red eyes spearing through her (were their eyes always red? she couldn’t recall right now). Eventually it lowered its knife foot. Regan approached, hoping to scare it off quickly enough that it would discard the weapon. After all, she reminded herself, this was a bird and it didn’t even know what a knife did. A witless animal. Many people would say stupid. This was all an accident. “I’m going to try to get it to fly away without the knife,” Regan said. She didn’t bother to be sneaky. The pigeon was still staring at her, so what was the point? Just a witless animal, a bird like any other, no ridiculous uprising, Regan thought… as the pigeon’s other leg reached beneath its wing and emerged with a gun.

—

“Exactly,” Wyatt hissed with some desperation in his tone, like he’d finally stumbled upon someone who understood. “It’s exactly like that.” But – of course, no, she was just another one of the doubters, immediately telling him why he was wrong. Talking about human sentiments and the differences between their brains, as if that meant anything. Wyatt didn’t have a human brain, he had a lamia brain, and he could see right through their fucking lies. Birds were smart, and they were bastards.

Another scream interrupted them, and the shifter flinched as his attention jumped to find the source. The woman was jumping into action, and Wyatt followed if only to continue their conversation, because now he was feeling argumentative. She looked to be in some kind of shock for a moment, her hands flying to her throat, and he lifted a brow. What was that? Her fear response? Weird. Maybe she’d had her throat partially slit at some point – she was moving again, hurrying over to the person with the injured arm. Wyatt hovered nearby, keeping his eyes on the terrorist bird, not looking at the woman when she spoke again but knowing she was addressing him all the same. The way she spoke felt familiar, somehow, but he was certain he didn’t know her. She had a peculiar look that would be difficult to forget, he surmised, and she wasn’t shy about correcting him, which he’d also remember.

“Lady, where the hell were you at the end of last year?” he growled, still watching the pigeon. “There was birds all over the damn place attackin’ people. Big ones. People-sized. Picked me up right off the damn street n’ tried to take me somewhere. They were harbingers of somethin’, I’m fuckin’ tellin’ ya. It obviously didn’t end with that big bitch underground.” The armed pigeon landed near them while she was talking, and Wyatt could swear it looked right at him. He grimaced, fists clenched at his sides. Fuckin’ thing. “Hey, wait—” he tried to stop her, stepping forward and reaching out a hand in her direction, but the bird was already moving on to the next part of its plan, and Wyatt stopped dead. His eyes widened, spine tingling with the same fear that gripped him the last time he’d had a gun pointed at him, but this time it wasn’t by someone he could maybe, in a loose sort of way, call a friend. This time it was truly the enemy.

The bird rested the weapon beneath its foot, holding it in place just like it was holding the knife, until it let that clatter to the ground. It hopped, and now both feet were on the gun, two toes wrapping around the trigger. Wyatt’s eyes widened and he shouted an incoherent warning, pushing the strange woman roughly out of the way just as the weapon fired. There was a moment of shocked silence before people really started panicking, and Wyatt whipped around to see if the shot had hit anyone behind him. There were no collapsed people in the park, which was a good sign.

His guts felt warm.

He looked down to see red blooming on his white shirt, spreading from a singular point in the left side of his midsection.

“Oh.” He looked up at the woman, a little dumbfounded. Shouldn’t it hurt more than this? The pigeon flapped its wings, trying to take off again with the gun in its talons. He had to stop it. Had to catch that thing and break its stupid neck, he thought as he stumbled toward it, swiping and missing his target. His knees gave out and he pressed a hand to his wound as he dropped to the grass. “Kill it!” he shouted at the woman who was closest besides him. “Don’t let it get away!”

—

A pigeon with a gun. A pigeon with a fecking gun.

Even as the barrel was aimed at her, Regan couldn’t quite process what she was witnessing. If this were an autopsy (which it fortunately wasn’t, no dead bodies) how would she have put pen to paper and explained a pigeon with a gun? A ‘supernatural’ (blegh) explanation it need not be, but somehow it was all the more absurd for that. Regan moved toward the bird instead of away, almost on autopilot, like scrutinizing the pigeon was going to make it make sense instead of pushing her closer to danger. No, it still didn’t make sense. Metal glinted next to fluffy feathers, the barrel aiming more assuredly, those scaly little talons applying pressure to the trigger.

And the gunshot boomed throughout the common. “You’re a bird, you don’t—” And Regan was on the ground, something heavy colliding with her not even a second before the weapon was fired. Her teeth had clamped down on her tongue, which was the worst of the pain. She knew she hadn’t been hit, and if gravel had bitten into her palms, she couldn’t tell. Regan had heard guns firing at close range before. Ballistics training was compulsory. And then she had shared experiences with the dead; those who were wheeled in with beautiful-in-their-own way stellate exit wounds and x-rays full of buckshot often gifted her with their final moments. Then there were the live victims, among the most urgent cases in the ED. The ones that used to make her hands shake before her trained equanimity emerged.

But this? Never like this. A gun was fired and with a heavy thud, someone went down.

The conspiracist fell. No, that wasn’t right, not the whole story. Regan’s mind raced to piece together the kaleidoscope of events that had just occurred within the span of less than a second. He had pushed her. Out of the way. And then the bird shot him. This would not be an autopsy report, but a police one… that was no easier to explain.

Her throat spasmed at the breath she had sucked in, but like before, it was not insistent. He was not yet a body in the morgue, beyond help. So Regan would do everything she could to keep it that way. This man had potentially saved her life, but even if he hadn’t, Regan would never be fleeing from someone’s injuries like the rest of the civilians fleeing the park.

Regan did what she probably shouldn’t have done — she took her eyes off the gun, off the bird, and dropped to her knees beside the man instead, her hands urgently pressing down on the wound. She could not leave a bleeding life behind. Blood soaked through the fabric of his shirt and stained her fingers. “Don’t move,” she ordered, with more spine than she felt she had. Assess. Gunshot wound, left lower quadrant. Bleeding heavy, but he was not yet in the hypovolemic shock that so many of her decedents fell victim to. She needed something else to press against the wound. “Don’t move,” she reminded him again, because she could tell he was a stubborn amadán (one who, again, may have saved her life). Without ceremony, Regan yanked the jacket off a stunned bystander and instructed him to call 911. Several people already had their phone out, but they were snapping photos of the armed and dangerous pigeon instead of doing anything useful.

When she dropped and pressed the jacket to the wound, her throat constricted again. She hissed, forcing the vibration back down her esophagus with practiced — but slipping — effort. How was it that she kept finding herself in these situations? Well, this was the first time it involved a pigeon, but this was the second time in so many months she’d found herself huddled next to someone bleeding out, trying to keep the life inside their body.

“You’re going to be… you won’t die. Right now.” Sweat coated his skin. Realistically, gunshot wound prognoses were guarded, but Regan felt secure in the stirring in her lungs not becoming an uncontrollable swell. “The bleeding is not arterial, and you remain conscious enough to ramble about how I should be going after the bird.” She pressed harder, finally glancing upward. The bird was flapping away, gun dangling clumsily from its talons but not hindering its flight. It was a problem, but not the one Regan was prioritizing.

“Why did you do that? You don’t even know me, but you pushed me out of the way.” It sounded accusatory, and Regan wasn’t even sure if she’d intended it. He had been but a simple conspiracy theorist (who was right in this instance, she would allow). And now he was bleeding in the grass because Regan… should have what? Believed him? Not attempted to investigate and understand what she was seeing? The stab of guilt in her stomach was there even though she couldn’t explain what she had done wrong.

—

“It’s gonna…” His protests as she told him to keep still were weak, the pain catching up to him through the murky waters of shock. It bloomed in his side, made worse by the pressure she was applying. His breaths were short and ragged, the fear creeping in as he became a little more aware of the situation. You won’t die. Right now. But he could die later. From this. God in heaven, why had he done that? Maybe if he hadn’t moved to shove her out of the way, the pigeon wouldn’t have fired the gun. Maybe he startled it into action, scared it enough that its talon hooked around the trigger and pulled as it started to flap wildly to get away. With the weight of the gun, it took a moment for the bird to get airborne, giving the white-haired woman enough time to strip a stranger of their jacket and press it to Wyatt’s side. But then it was gaining altitude, and he groaned loudly. Fuckin’ thing was gonna get away with it.

“I… I don’t know,” he breathed. Would have been better for him if he hadn’t. Like she said, he didn’t know her. They weren’t friends. Why had he felt compelled to throw himself between her and a gun? Was that just his natural, idiotic instinct? He’d done it for Owen, too, but that… well that was different, wasn’t it? “It just…” He fought for a living. Killed for a living. The only thing he understood with perfect clarity was violence. As he thought about it, laying here on the ground, bleeding out and feeling lightheaded, he wondered if he would simply throw himself into whatever dangerous situation arose in his immediate vicinity, regardless of who was involved. Maybe it was a craving for destruction, or purpose. Maybe it was both, or neither. Introspection had never been his strength, and it was even worse now that he was losing all that blood.

One thing that did spring to mind was how this situation was going to resolve itself. He realized, slowly, that she’d told someone to call emergency services. The lamia grimaced, shaking his head and trying to push her away from him. “No hospitals,” he wheezed, trying to wriggle out of her grasp and get himself away from there. “Can’t be there.” He couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t shift without meaning to, and then what would he do?

—

Did everyone in this town reject emergency rooms? At least Regan had an excuse. What was his? “I told you not to move.” Regan pressed down on his chest again, blood squelching between her fingers, and the man’s squirming effort was thwarted. He was well-muscled. Shouldn’t his weakness be sign enough to him that he needed the medical attention? Amadán amadán amadán. “You know hospitals are for medical intervention, yes? Either there or the morgue. You pick.”

Regan regretted her words almost immediately. He might really request the morgue if he had some reason—beyond the norm—to fear hospitals. And she recognized the beginning of one of those damnable spirals. Did some people, some things (like her? No yes no) really need to be treated away from human eyes? Person eyes? Eyeballs. Cíocha cailleach, she didn’t even know what words to use in her thoughts these days. The morgue offer might have been genuine. Better than nothing, Regan decided, and that was why. Sometimes patients needed to be appeased to receive any treatment at all. It wasn’t about secrecy. The man here was completely normal, aside from his mind.

Above their heads, another shot rang. Regan ducked over the man, her heart thrashing slow but heavy. The screaming crowd thinned. It didn’t look or sound like anyone else had been shot, but a couple people abandoned their cell phones and purses. Screens lit up, displaying TikTok and camera interfaces (Regan was pleased she recognized the former, and then quickly became displeased by it). “Someone has to kill that bird,” she muttered. By the time the paramedics got here, there could be more people injured. The scene was hot. “Stay. Still. I didn’t mean you.” This was why Regan preferred dead patients. One of several reasons.

She heard distant sirens, but the pigeon was much closer. Another shot. There was a cracking noise, the bullet lodged in the trunk of a splintering tree. And then the pigeon cooed with interest, cooing close and closer still, and Regan’s every bone was braced for pain. Her scarred palms burned in expectation, the only time her nerves there fired. Something churned in her lungs, but she refused to label it. Just lock it in. Don’t think about it. Like that ever worked.

But the next shot never came. She realized her nails were digging into the injured man, and her muscles eased. Regan lifted her head, eyes finally finding the bird. It was near someone else. An elderly man sitting on a bench, walker idling in front of him, like nothing was amiss. There was a peaceful smile on his lips, and half a loaf of bread in his shaky hands. As Regan watched, the man tore off some of the bread and worked it into tiny pieces between his fingers. He scattered it in a growing pile of crumbs by his feet, where several other pigeons pecked contentedly.

The armed pigeon swooped, and Regan almost did scream then. Warn the old man. But her proximity to the conspiracy theorist would doom his organs. The first syllable shot up her throat. Regan bit her tongue. She killed the scream. Her mouth filled with the taste of her dull, flat blood.

The pigeon didn’t shoot again, though. There was no warning needed for the old man. It landed among the birds, standing taller than all of them from atop the gun. The other pigeons flapped away. Maybe they were smarter than Regan had given them credit for. Slowly, the pigeon became consumed in its pecking, and it hopped off the gun, completely unarmed. The old man tossed more bread crumbs, this time at the firearm.

Regan’s sigh whistled, a sound her grandmother would say isn’t even fit to sting an ear. “You have no idea how close that was.” Though to the conspiracy theorist, it wasn’t over yet, was it? His bleeding had improved, but he needed treatment, fast. The sirens closed in.

—

That or the morgue? Jesus fuckin’ christ, lady. Wyatt was shockingly weak beneath the shove of her hands, though, which was alarming. She was pretty fuckin’ tiny. She really shouldn’t be able to hold him down—

The gun fired again and he sucked in a startled breath, immediately regretting it. “Yeah! That’s what I fuckin’ said!” he agreed, groaning again (and regretting it again) when she reminded him that it was not his problem to take care of any more. He closed his eyes, realizing nervously that he was feeling a little funny in the head, and there was a new pain starting up around the wound – oh, she was – why was she –

“How close what was?” he wheezed, not even sure he wanted to hear the answer. He just felt like he had to keep talking because slipping into an unnatural sleep was the very, very last thing he wanted for a number of reasons. That was bad, right? When you were losing this much blood, if you passed out, that was bad, right? He wasn’t gonna pass out. He was fine.

(He was not fine.)

The sirens were almost upon them, and he resigned himself to his fate. “I’ll go, I’ll go to the fuckin’ hospital,” he muttered, eyelids fluttering as he stared up at the sky. If it ended up being a bad idea, that was something he’d deal with when he got to that fucking bridge. After a brief silence, he said in a much quieter voice, “Just don’t let me die.”

#pigeon impossible #writing #c wyatt #gun use tw

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