#chatzy: jasmine

[corpse--diem]

Haunted Hallways | Jasmine & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @halequeenjas & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Jasmine shows Erin around a new apartment when they’re interrupted by an old friend.

It was interesting how time could keep moving and stand still all at the same time. Weeks had gone by since her world had all but gone up in flames but the world kept going. Still pushed forward. So Erin had to keep moving with it, and by the time the opportunity came to look for a new apartment, it made all the sense in the world to jump on it. Nic and Skylar had been more than gracious allowing her to stay with them as long as they had but she needed her space. Always had. Especially now, given that some lunatic felt comfortable just waltzing in and burning down buildings she frequently inhabited. The door was already open when she approached the apartment building her new realtor, a Ms. Jasmine Hale, had picked out. From the outside, the place seemed nice enough. Seemed like a place she could exist, at first glance, even if only temporarily. “Hello?” She called out, knocking on the open door before she saw the other woman. Greeting her with a smile, Erin reached out her hand. “Jasmine?” She asked tentatively. “Erin Nichols. It’s nice to meet you, finally! Sorry, I hope I’m not too late. The fog out there is extra wicked today. I had to take my time getting here,” she apologized with a crinkle of her nose.

As Jasmine had rushed up to the apartment she was showing her new client, she was grateful Erin had yet to arrive. One of the stupid floating fish had been circling her Jag and she wasn’t about to become some fish’s dinner. Being late was never a good look for a professional and she wasn’t in the business of wasting people’s time. Just as she was about to head up and place some wards around and scope out the scene, she heard her name. Crap. She threw on her megawatt smile anyway and extended her hand to shake. “Yes, it’s me. Good to meet you in person, Erin.” This fog did really put a damper on the whole driving thing and the fish were weird. With a laugh, she responded, “Oh yeah, the fog is a doozy. Really uncharacteristic for it to be this thick, but better to drive safely.” She kept her face bright and smile winning to not give way to the nerves that were boiling underneath. Larry Bob was likely to show his pathetic, scraggly face to blow this rental for her. She had to hide the horrified look on her face as she opened the door and saw the stripes. She could spin this. “As you can see, this place is really into modern decor, but I think the floor plan and price here is what the real winner is.”

Jasmine was as chirpy and bright as Erin expected any good realtor to be. Not unpleasantly, though, like how an overzealous salesperson could drown you in big grins and enthusiasm. Jasmine was teeming with all of that stuff too, that much was obvious, but Erin could still breathe. She appreciated that. “Good to meet you too--” Erin started, the smile she returned drooping into a slacked jaw she couldn’t stop. Black and white stripes. Everywhere. “Christ,” she mumbled under her breath, the unexpected bold lines making her squint. There was something innately familiar about this scene she couldn’t put her finger on. Probably saw something like it in a magazine at one point. “Modern decor is…” she started, shrugging when nothing positive came to mind immediately. “Well, it’s something, alright. Definitely not my area of expertise.” Didn’t find a lot of that in a funeral home, that was for sure. With a chuckle, she raised an eyebrow in Jasmine’s direction but slowed her movements until she came to a complete stop, gesturing towards the stripes that felt like they were swallowing them whole the farther they went. “I’ve got to be honest, if the apartment looks anything like this hallway, I’m going to save you the trouble and stop the tour right now. This is…” she grimaced, shaking her head. “Like, a lot.”

Modern decor was one of her personal areas of expertise, but this definitely wasn’t it. Still, Jasmine could spin this. They’d both driven all the way out here in the crazy fog and from the video tour, the apartment itself looked darling. “I’ll admit, the exterior is a little loud for my tastes, but that’s not where most people spend a lot of their time… well, unless you like hanging in hallways but that seems weird so,” she explained with a shrug as she led them to the unit in question. Internally, she pleaded that they hadn’t decided to redecorate the interior of the unit as well. As she opened the door to the apartment, she let out a breath of relief. Totally normal just as she had planned. “See, definitely different from the hallway. I think too many buildings are trying to be trendy nowadays, but the floorplan here is amazing. You’ve got all this open space, but let’s take a look around. I always like to end with the kitchen-- if it turns out they didn’t clean something right, you don’t wanna deal with the smell the whole time you’re perusing the place.”

Oh, thank God. This whole set-up was a temporary solution--somewhere to stay while Erin waited for the insurance to kick in and the (hopeful) rebuilding to start. But even temporarily staring at an apartment that looked like the hallway was absolutely out of the question. “Oh, no, you’re so right. This is great,” she exclaimed with genuine surprise and relief. Way better than the other apartments she’d found looking on her own, anyway. “I honestly don’t need anything too fancy. If everything goes to plan, this should be temporary. I should mention that, shouldn’t I? And it’s just me and my cat, anyway. Well, and sometimes my boyfriend, but I’m usually at his place. Indoor pool guy--need I say more?” She raised a playful brow, grinning. “Pets are okay too, right?” She asked, though her attention drifted to the windows in the living room. Not a great view she determined, but not bad either. Decent enough for temporary. What felt like a small gust of wind moved past her--barely detectable if it wasn’t for the temperature. Like someone had opened a freezer right in her face. “Oh, is it always this cold? How’s the heating?” she asked, turning to Jasmine again, following closely behind as she did her thing.

There was a bright smile on her face as she saw Erin look around seemingly happy. Jasmine knew this would be a perfect spot. Nice open floor plan, decent storage space, a nice view from the window-- and for a fair price? Who wouldn’t love this place? If she wasn’t already living in her perfect waterfront home on Harris Island, she’d have snagged this place up. “I do try to make it a habit of being right,” she joked although if she was being honest, she actually meant that statement. “I think this might be the spot for you then. Not overly fancy, but still very comfortable and a practical price. And wait… isn’t indoor pool guy the one who eats water with his cereal?” Men really needed to be stopped sometimes. Water in cereal when milk wasn’t even expensive. It was definitely gross and she definitely judged him a little for it. Still, she recovered with a laugh and said, “But indoor pool. Sure it makes staying there more fun.” She’d looked over the details carefully before showing this place even if she did somehow miss the striped hallway. “Yep, cats are totally welcome! They don’t even charge pet rent,” she answered as she felt a familiar cold sensation. Oh no. She swore she would throw Larry Bob out of existence as she cursed under her breath. She clutched the bag of salt in her purse and looked around carefully only to be shocked to find a ghost that was surprisingly not Larry Bob. “Oh my god, I totally have to show you the bathtub. It’s right over there,” she gestured and quickly threw a dash of salt at the tacky ghost in the Hawaiian shirt. Who dodged her. Of freaking course!

It’d been a few years since Erin had lived in an apartment on her own, and while the circumstances that had brought her here weren’t ideal, it was a little exciting. Something of her own again. Something that wasn’t passed down and filled with ghosts of a family that no longer lived there. This could be hers, for as little or as long as she had, and the thought was a welcome one. Jasmine’s upbeat attitude had a refreshing grounding nature to it. She liked her already. “Ah. You remember that, huh?” she laughed quietly, shaking her head. “The one and the same. Bit of a dumbass--I think the water cereal speaks for itself on that. But he’s a good one,” she said, a teasing fondness in her tone. Good. Betty could live peacefully here too no problem. At this point, she had little doubt about whether or not she would be taking the place. She could picture her curled up at the large window, Nic frying up eggs in the kitchen--oh, she wanted to see the kitchen next. God, it was freezing in here though. Holding her arms against herself, she followed Jasmine, turning her head sharply at the exclamation about the bathtub. “Oh, yeah. Sure,” she nodded, narrowing her eyes.

“Missed me, bitch.”

Was someone else here? A squatter, maybe? The familiar voice, that deep-throated chuckle shook her immediately. She knew that voice somehow. Her mind jumped to Roy and his goons. Was he seriously watching her this intently? How? “Jasmine?” She called out, slowly reaching for the knife in her purse. “Everything alright in--” She saw the bowl of fruit flying straight at them as she turned the corner to the kitchen. An apple smacking her shoulder when she turned and cowered away and that hearty laugh echoed through the apartment.

“Oh hell yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” the voice boomed. Erin saw the loud Hawaiian shirt first, covered with dry blood that had soaked down from the side of his head. There was still a gash from the baseball bat she had nailed hi No, no, no. This--this wasn’t happening. Dale was dead. Dale was not standing there in her soon to be new kitchen. “...Dale?” His eyes turned dark when they fell on hers. “Miss me, sweetheart?” His grin was as sharp and vile as she remembered, and without missing a beat, he sent one of the pans hanging for show beside the stove hurtling their way.

If it wasn’t Larry Bob, apparently it was some other jackass in a Hawaiian shirt trying to crash her showings. Seriously? Jasmine was fuming now and wanted to smack this ghost into whatever ether it was supposed to be in. She had been pretty sure Erin went to go check out the bathroom, so she was surprised when he asked if she missed him. “I don’t even know you, you absolute creep,” she retorted with a glare on her face as she quickly reached into her bag for her iron rod. The familiar chill had never been comforting to her, but she wouldn’t lose her resolve to a ghost in a tacky shirt.

She saw him ready to throw and apple and her head whipped back to follow it. It clearly wasn’t aimed at her and she gasped when she saw Erin there. Shit. How was she supposed to explain this? “I’m so,” she started but quickly had to dodge a pan. There was a loud crash as it fell to the floor after colliding into the wall. “Oh hell no,” she grumbled, standing taller this time and charging toward the ghost. “You were not invited to this and I don’t know who the hell you think you are. I’d get out of here before I exorcise you out of existence. I know it must be hard to move on stuck in that awful shirt, but trust me, it’s better than what I’ll do to you.” She raced forward ready to whack him with the iron rod, but he dodged out the way, causing her to stumble forward.

Was Jasmine trying to apologize for the big ass bald ghost in the kitchen? Dale. Fucking Dale. Erin didn’t understand the how or why but there he was, and she’d be a liar if the word zombie didn’t cross her mind again. Because here he was, live and in color. She was still trying to wrap her head around it when Jasmine went on the attack. “Jasmine, don’t--” Erin started, but she was insulting the clothes on his back and charging at him anyway. Exorcise? Did she just say exorcise? Sounded like some Blanche-flavored ghost bullshit she wanted nothing to do with. “Don’t worry lady, you’ll have your turn,” he growled, giving Jasmine a good kick from behind after she stumbled forward.

Erin ran forward out of instinct after her, stopping in her tracks when Dale turned around only feet from her now. His smile wicked, verging into a sneer. “Been a while, huh?” He asked, reaching for anything close. Both of their eyes widened for different reasons when he managed to get a hold of a display knife out of it’s holding block. Erin stepped back with every step forward, shaking her head. “No, no, no--you’re dead,” was all she could manage. She was sure of it - she’d burned his body and that ugly blood stained shirt herself. This wasn’t possible. There shouldn’t have been a body to come back, even if this was some sort of zombie situation. But here he was anyway, swinging the blade at her. She stumbled on the pan that he’d tossed earlier, falling back when another swing of his arm narrowly missed. Grabbing it, she used it as a shield when the blade came down, leaving a dent. Fuck. Yep. Didn’t matter how at this point. He was very much real. “Jasmine!” Erin hollered for help, clambering backwards.

The kick in the back she got from this ghosty asshole as she moved forward hurt, but Jasmine wasn’t about to let this rando spirit ruin this showing. She quickly recovered and tightened her grip on the iron rod. A horrified look crossed her face as she realized Erin was charging toward the ghost who was clearly still stuck in a mid life crisis without any salt or iron. “Don’t,” she called out, but it was too late. She was already in range of the Danny Devito knock off and now he was picking up a knife. She swore she’d banish him from existence right now if he used that knife on Erin. That was a $400 chef’s knife and he’d ruin it. Or worse, it’d be stuck in evidence forever. “Hey, asshole, over here,” she called out as she reached out for the salt on the counter. “Maybe next time you choose to haunt a place, stay out of the kitchen you absolute buffoon of a ghost!” She threw a dash of salt at him, which had to sting, but he was still with them. Ugh. She tossed the salt to Erin and raised her iron rod, daring this jackass to take her on.

Salt? What the fuck was she supposed to do with this? Erin racked her brain, trying to remember something Blanche had mentioned about it -- but it seemed to work. His physical form wavered just enough for him to drop the knife and let out a hiss. “God, you fucking b--” He hollered, turning his head to Jasmine, the dried blood on the side of his head the most glaring thing. Erin kicked the knife down the hallway, scrambling to sit up before taking Jasmine’s lead. His fist missed Jasmine when another handful of salt burned his corporeal form and he flickered again, like someone trying to blow out a candle. “You both want to die today? That’s fine by me, chickadee. I’ve got all the time in the fucking world,” he practically snarled, grabbing for Jasmine once he got a hold of himself again.  

It seemed Erin didn’t hesitate too long on the salt. Small miracles were still miracles, but anger rose in Jasmine the moment he grabbed hold of her again. “Oh, hell no. Get your ugly ghost hands off my blouse,” she yelled as she kept her grip solid on the iron rod in her left hand and stabbed it through him. There was something nausea-inducing in the feeling of an iron rod going through his very much solid form, but she could feel that he was a ghost. Plus, the salt had worked on him. The iron did, too, and soon enough after some choice words he faded away. She let out the breath she had been holding before straightening her jacket and blouse and turning to Erin. “Okay, excuse my French here, but what the fuck,” she exclaimed. “It’s clear you know Mr. Wannabe Tommy Bahama over here, so what’s the deal?”

Ghost. Erin definitely heard the word ghost come out of Jasmine’s mouth. Fuck that. Fuck ghosts. Fuck Dale. Thankfully Jasmine shared the same sentiments. With wide-eyes, she watched as he practically dissolved before her eyes, gone as quickly and violently as he’d come. Something told her he wasn’t gone-gone though. The room was still as cold as it had been before, like a slightly wind chill nipping at her skin. Erin shifted uncomfortably, straightening her clothes as she tried to think of an adequate explanation. “He, uh--” Erin cleared her throat, shaking her head. “He was an old co-worker. It didn’t… you know. End well,” she nodded. That was all she needed to know, right? Her eyes narrowed at Jasmine. “How did you know he was a ghost? He was--” she held out a hand, tapping her forearm with her pointer finger. “Tangible. He could hold stuff. I thought they weren’t supposed to do that.”

It dawned on her that she said ghost outloud and Jasmine mentally cursed herself. Thankfully Erin didn’t find the concept to be too far fetched. At the mention of him being an old coworker, she immediately had a kindred feeling. Funny enough, they both had old coworkers as ghosts following them around. “Funny, I’ve got a pain in the ass coworker that’s a ghost, too. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to see yours. I just happened to be ‘blessed’ with the gift of seeing ghosts… and of getting rid of them. Since you’re not totally running for the hills, I’m an exorcist.” At the question of being tangible, she grumbled. She was thoroughly over this whole ghosts being solid thing. “I don’t know what’s going on there, but it’s a thing right now. Ghosts seem to be solid some of the time and I’m not loving it. So no, he’s not supposed to be able to do that and you shouldn’t have been able to see him.” Realizing this ghost had it out for her, she added, “Whatever place you move into, I’m throwing up some wards for you.” Talk about full service realty.

Jasmine’s words did little to comfort Erin, and it was even less of a relief to know that Dale was probably hanging around with her long before this. That cold feeling wasn’t entirely new--just something she’d shrugged off on more than one occasion. Awesome. Her heart was in the process of dropping to her stomach as Jasmine spoke, only perking up at ‘exorcist’. “Right,” she drawled with a hint of unintentional skepticism in her voice. “I hope yours at least shopped at places that weren’t tacky beach gift shops,” she murmured, trying to lighten the tightness suddenly enveloping her chest. Didn’t work as well as she’d hoped. “All I know is that they exist. I’ve never seen one before. Ever,” She said with a sigh, running a frustrated hand through her hair. Is that what Blanche had to endure on a daily basis? She couldn’t blame her for her freakouts if that was the case. “If he’s not supposed to be like that, then how is he like that? And do they always--uh, you know. Look like that?” She gestured towards her head, a reference to the bloody crack in his skull. The one Erin had put there months and months ago. Her heart beat hard again and she started to pick up the dented pan and knife at her feet, wincing at the scuff marks on both. Her eyes filled with fear, jumping back up to Jasmine. “He’s not going to come back, is he?”

It was evident to Jasmine that Erin wasn’t exactly comfortable with this news. Not that she could blame her. It was likely that this tacky ghost had been following her around for longer than she’d known which was far from comforting. “Worse, when he’s off work, he had crocs in 10 different colors,” she joked to keep the mood from getting too heavy. Of course Erin had never seen a ghost before. It wasn’t a gift that most people had and had to be alarming if you weren’t entirely used to it. Hell, even she was alarmed from time to time. “That makes sense, I’m not sure why people can see them now and why they’re solid. Probably some bigger White Crest bullshit like the fog and the mimes. But yeah, they do usually look like that. Well, not that specifically, but any injuries that killed them are still there as a ghost. Not always pretty, but to be fair, I don’t think your guy here was all that pretty to look at when he was alive either.” Jasmine started tidying up a little bit and put the knife back in its rightful spot. Dale had really come in and made a mess of the kitchen. At least no one was hurt. “The iron will have him gone for at least a few hours. Whatever place you pick, I’ll put wards up. Actually, wherever you’re currently staying should have wards, too. It keeps them out.”

Erin tried to laugh at the joke Jasmine volleyed back at her but it came out more like a stunted, heavy breath. “He sounds like the worst kind of person, honestly,” she said a bit distantly, her brow raised in harsh skepticism. Ghosts. Fucking ghosts. Dale’s ghost. It was hard to focus on anything else but those two things right now. How long had he been following her? How the fuck was he solid now suddenly? Skipping town and going into hiding, putting this place behind her just kept looking better and better every day. “Aren’t we just… super lucky to live in a town like this?” She asked, teeth tight against her smile and her fist slightly clenched. God, she was tired. But for all the nonsense they’d just experienced, this apartment fortunately looked just as good as it had before things got weird. “Oh, yeah, please. I’ll take all the wards you can possibly give me. Anything you’ve got. Like, I will personally pay you extra just for the wards,” she said, finally letting out a long breath, trying to think of anything but the sound of her baseball bat crunching skull bone or that toothy grin. He was gone. They were fine. For now. “But that asshole sure as hell isn’t going to stop me from missing out on a great apartment.” She paused a beat, nodding towards Jasmine, a gentler smile finding its way to the surface. “I’ll take it.”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

From the Darkest Night || Morgan, Blanche, Jasmine, Constance, & Agnes

TIMING: Current/the night of the solstice. After Morgan’s and Constance’s choices.

PARTIES: @harlowhaunted @halequeenjas @constancecunningham Agnes Bachman (written by @chloeinbetween )

SUMMARY: Death has been and left its mark with winter’s bleakness, cold and stark. The tides of darkness turn.

Constance must be stopped. Morgan faces the truth.

CONTAINS: violence, death, exorcism

The steering wheel cracked on the Subaru as Morgan swerved around the slick, snow-covered streets. She sped past the red-green stream of traffic lights, muttering, “Fucking, fucking, fucking fuck...what are we gonna do about this, how do we fix this, what is my fucking plan, stars a--” Morgan slammed on the brake and turned the wheel violently again. The Subaru jumped the curb and wailed to a stop. In front of her was a stream of anxious cars, all trying to squeeze down the narrow way out of town, toward the highway. From the crest of the road, Morgan could see some of the mess they were escaping: dented street lamps and snapped power lines, dizzy shadows of wounded, disoriented people and gory splashes of siren lights. Whatever Morgan had let Constance get away with, it was big. Morgan revved back and hopped through any street she could to get to the rendezvous point in the outskirts, dodging stunned, frightened holiday-goers. Whatever they warned her about, she didn’t hear. She just needed to get to Jasmine, Blanche, and Agnes. Constance was bound to try her luck on the East End when she was done pitching a fit on this side of the river. And then what? She’d find out that Morgan’s house was still warded up tight and she wasn’t even home and Deirdre had enough salt in the house to prevent any warm-up carnage. And then what? If there was anything good left in the universe, no one would have to find out.

Morgan slowed when she found the group, already working on something. She stepped out of the car. “I’m--I--” This wasn’t the time to be pathetic. This may not even be the time to be sorry. “I’m here now,” she said. “Do we know where Constance is? Or what the plan is? Or--” She couldn’t tell if it was her guilt talking or not, but Morgan had the distinct feeling that no one was impressed by her questions. “Tell me how I can help. I would like to help, please.”

Something akin to anger had been boiling up inside Jasmine as she drove to the abandoned lot in the Outskirts Blanche had directed her to. There should have never been a chance for Constance to wreak havoc on the Common. This should have been done months ago when she had initially tried to make Constance pass on. If her concentration hadn’t been broken, it’d be both Constance and Nancy gone. But no, Constance was still here and a full on poltergeist which was going to make things more difficult now. She had to drive by the damage on the way to the Outskirts and her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. A hint of smoke was still in the air and everything was blown out of place. The number of ambulances on the scene only served to make her more angry. Constance wouldn’t have the chance to do this again. She quickly jumped out of the car when she got to the lot and looked over Blanche a handful of times before she was entirely convinced the girl was in fact okay. Well, relatively speaking at least. She’d directed Blanche to help her set everything up as Morgan arrived. They had to act quickly and Morgan being here meant Constance would be sooner rather than later. Under less rushed circumstances, she would have let her anger towards Morgan out. As it stood, she simply gave her an annoyed look and said, “She had left the Common and will likely be seeking you out seeing as you’re the one she has the whole revenge vendetta crap with… which is at least convenient since you’re here and cooperating now.” There was a bit of a bite to her tone that she couldn’t be bothered to hide. “Well, you’re pretty much bait at the moment, but since you have the benefit being able to see her and be on the more durable side, I’m going to ask that you keep myself or Blanche from getting impaled by something.”

Agnes felt hollow, like the blood spilled on the street had been drained right out of her. She hadn’t expected that, to have her bitterness and fury thrown back in her face with the weight of an anvil. Nothing Constance had thrown at her had done any kind of damage, but when a street light had buckled under the force of Constance’s rage, Agnes moved by instinct, lowering it to the ground so gently it couldn’t crush anyone. It was only when it was set down so carefully that the glass in the bulb hadn’t broken that Agnes cracked, once Constance was gone and she could let herself grieve just another one of her failures. But this one had been Constance’s too. That was what she’d seen, in the second before. Constance had made a choice, as she had when she’d cast her curse, when she had as she’d tried to kill Morgan over and over. Constance was no longer the girl Agnes had loved. She hadn’t been, even before she’d become a poltergeist. So Agnes had let her grief break the light in the downed street post, and had pulled herself together to look for a plan, following her heart back to Morgan, and this terrible, empty space, clinging to the walls as she tried to tuck her grief back inside her perfectly acceptable clothes.

Time wasn’t passing correctly for Blanche as she sped away from the carnage on the common. Moments in time had been plucked from her memory, dissolving into static and cold numbness. She only really came into focus once Morgan showed up, jolted back into reality at the heated anger boiling under her skin. She said nothing, keeping her face blank as she stared at Morgan, hearing the bite in Jasmine’s words. Blanche was pleased that Jasmine seemed to be feeling similarly to her. She looked away from Morgan, busying herself with finally trying to settle her appearance. She looked like -- well, like she had just been thrown into a giant Christmas tree. She pulled her hair back and started picking off pine needles from her newly ruined winter jacket. “We need to get her here,” Blanche said tonelessly. Focus. The voice in her head was now her own, reminding her that the pain in her side or anywhere else didn’t matter. Cracked ribs, exhaustion, and bruises were something she could live with for now. “Constance is on a rampage, and she no longer cares about who she takes out in her quest to kill Morgan,” Blanche said to Jasmine. It was easiest to talk to Jasmine, rather than to the group as a whole. Between Agnes setting off her already overstimulated senses and the building anger when she looked at Morgan, her head was starting to hurt pretty badly. “I don’t know how we want to do this, but we need to get her here before she devastates another highly populated area.” The image of the gazebo going up into flames came to her mind and any color left in her face drained. “Constance needs to know Morgan is here. Or think she’s here.”

Morgan hadn’t expected a warm welcome from anyone, but somehow the sharp, pragmatic snaps were worse than any volley of yelling she’d braced herself for on the way over. “I’m sorry,” she said meekly. “I’m...yes, I’m cooperating. I know I screwed up, and you guys were right, okay? I…” I can’t let anymore people die tonight because of me. Morgan swallowed that particular wish down. She was in enough trouble without explaining Miriam to anyone. “I can try to bait her. Find her. She’s probably headed to my house, right? Maybe I can draw her out here...but, uh…” She would need someone to help run interference if she really wanted to make it home in the morning. But looking between Jasmine and Blanche, that didn’t seem like something she could ask for. They couldn’t take the fall for this.

Morgan’s eyes slid over to Agnes, who had remained silent since her arrival. “Would you help me? Come with me, run interference so we can get her back here for sure?” Her eyes pleaded with her. “I know I screwed everything up, but we can still do something. Not as much as we should’ve, but something.” It wouldn’t be enough, because pain wasn’t something you could measure down to the last milligram and weigh even with carbon and silicon. You couldn’t throw it at someone like an axe and find yourself lighter or trade it like money for happiness in exchange. However you got rid of pain, it wasn’t like that.

“The two of us together will quickly draw her ire,” Agnes agreed listlessly, staring at a point past all of them and right into her past. Into the lie neither of them had truly ever been permitted to heal from, and the crushing weight of her mother’s suspicions for the rest of her life. Constance was gone. Whatever she had hoped to achieve here had failed most spectacularly, hope scorched from the earth like that damned tent. “I will do what I must.”

While they were finally on a united front, Jasmine had never been good at hiding any sort of disdain she felt. She’d never found much point in it either, even in a business setting, her customers seemed to appreciate her never relenting honesty. “Sounds like a plan. Maybe avoid taking the more populated route here,” she said, the edge still more than evident in her tone. Her glance was cast at Morgan though she was still unsure about this Agnes ghost hanging around. Her attention focused back to Blanche who seemed to be in a somewhat catatonic state that left her concerned. As Morgan and Agnes left, she spent a few moments explaining the steps in preparation to Blanche. She wasn’t sure the younger woman would ever like to learn exorcisms, but it still seemed beneficial for her to pick some things up along the way. She closed off the circle of salt and let out a sigh. She broke the quiet and asked, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” It was clear she was taking this badly and Jasmine needed to help her find her strength for these next steps.

Blanche listened to Jasmine, unsure if she was truly absorbing everything Jasmine was telling her. She supposed they would find out if they were ever put into this position again. When Jasmine broke the quiet, she glanced up from one of the symbols she was examining in the ground, staring back at her. “I -” Blanche started, her throat thick with emotion she hadn’t realized appeared upon Morgan and Agnes’ departure. “I did everything right -- She’s the one that chose this.” Blanche wasn’t certain if she was talking about Morgan or Constance anymore. She realized then her anger wasn’t directed completely at Morgan’s choices. It was at both of them. Both of them were wrong, and Blanche had practically broken herself trying to make them see right. What was the point? Was there even a point in trying? There was a broken feeling in her that she couldn’t explain, but it hurt worse than any of the injuries she had put together. Blanche numbly wondered if it was disappointment. “I don’t want to talk about this now,” Blanche said as the pain in her ribs jerked her back to reality again. She wiped her eyes before tears could spill. “I’ll do what we have to, Jas… Everything else…” Her voice cracked. “Everything else can come later, can’t it?”

Jasmine nodded as Blanche spoke and noted how raw the emotion in her voice was. How she seemed so much smaller than her already small size. Broken down in a way that seemed far too dire for someone so young. She placed a reassuring hand on Blanche’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know, you can do everything right sometimes and people can still let you down. I hate to say it, but more often than not that’s the case.” It was evident to Jasmine that somehow Blanche’s sense of self worth was tied into this which she just couldn’t wrap her head around. Morgan had previously been unreasonable and Constance had been a ghost fueled by vengeance for over a century. “None of that says anything about you,” she assured as a chilled gust of wind came through the lot. Thankfully nothing was displaced, but somehow it made the moment feel morose. They had to press forward though. There was no other option. “And we’re not done here yet,” she said to remind Blanche.

“I'll have to get used to disappointment,” Blanche replied, and the pain and anger that swelled in her chest was overtaken by an overwhelming sense of numbness. All her senses dulled, and she relaxed herself into a state of nothing. Her gaze rested on the circle, a sense of finality in the air. “No,” she agreed, glancing at her watch. “But we will be soon.”

Morgan stopped counting how many traffic violations she racked up well before she scraped past the bridge by riding the shoulder and swerving through lanes to get to her street. Constance left a trail of debris big and small in her wake. It was almost funny: when Morgan laid eyes on her up the road, standing in the road outside of Morgan’s house with Christmas lights strobing manically around her, she still looked as small and grubby as she’d ever been. No demonic glow in her pale eyes or costume upgrade like a comic book villain. Just a girl, frail and dangerous.

“I’d really like to be able to survive this so I can un-fuck my life afterwards,” Morgan whispered, fear turning her voice shrill. “I don’t know how much you know about zombies, but if she busts my head, I’m finished. So if you could run interference with her projectile playtime, that’d be great. And uh, you have full permission to hitch a ride or take over if you happen to come up with a plan, because I kind of don’t have one besides ‘make her mad and get out of here fast.’”

As she spoke, Constance drifted closer to the house, phasing through the stacks of cars crammed onto the driveway. Deirdre’s plan to get the families into the one house that was warded must have worked, but stars above, that didn’t make the scene look any less terrifying. Morgan shut her eyes and braced herself. Deirdre’s got her side and you’ve got yours. You don’t need to do this together, you just need to do it.

Sparks flew up from a reindeer next door. Rudolph’s lights went out just as his antlers turned into a halo of fire. He slowly came apart into his sharp-edged assembly required pieces and rose, trembling, into the air.

“Hey, Connie!” Morgan shouted, leaning halfway out the car window. “The real party’s right here! Are you gonna throw a tantrum all night or are you gonna kill me?”

Rudolph crashed against Morgan’s kitchen windows and bounced to the floor. Banshee proofing the glass was good for something after all. But that was where the good news ended. Morgan had wanted to get Constance’s attention, and now she had it.

Agnes felt more hollow than she had in decades in Morgan’s vehicle, her hands clasped in her lap. Her gaze distantly ahead of them as they made the same pilgrimage she had weeks ago. She was so still she almost missed Morgan’s fleeting admission. She did not say that Beck women were as prone to ruining their lives as they were prone to falling in love with other women. There was no fix, no un-fuck. There was only a tornado in the breeze of the woman she had loved. “I can do that.”

“I was never one for plans nor bravery,” Agnes replied quietly, still as empty in tone as the air that she inhabited. “Should I see the opportunity, I will take it, although I hope I will not have to.” Agnes was not sure that if she had a body again even for a moment that she would find it easy to let go. She also had little idea what a plan might even look like, other than to channel all of Constance’s rage into one place. There was little time for further hesitation as Morgan stretched out of the window and called for Constance. At the same time, Agnes floated through the roof of the car, letting Constance see her again in invitation. Her eyes met Constance’s for a long moment, perhaps hoping to see anything that she had before here, but there was nothing, more rage than woman. The letterbox was ripped out of the ground, and hurtled at their car with deadly force. Agnes extended her hand, but only pushed it enough sideways to only scrape the paint off the vehicle. There was an implicit challenge in her gaze as she looked back to Constance. Do your worst.

Constance had never imagined what Morgan and Agnes side by side would look like, it was too cruel, too wrong, to consider. Like a mirror cracked and doubled, they turned their heads toward her, eye wide and stupid as deer. She knew what they wanted, and she had half a mind not to give it to them. Perhaps she couldn’t get past the wards around the house, but she could rip everything else to pieces, could she not? But that was another trick in itself. As much as Constance burned to see the defiance stomped out of Morgan Beck’s face, she wanted to see her perish even more. Right before Agnes’ eyes, if she could have it so. Let Agnes see the curse finish before her eyes. Let her break the way Constance broke, let her whither and confront her own cruelty and her crimes.

Constance turned away and charged toward the car.

“Maybe cowardice is genetic,” Morgan shrugged. “But we do what we gotta for the people who--shit!” She had just enough time to pop back in and rev the car in reverse, shooting into someone’s minivan before Constance barreled through the windshield shattering it inward. “Probably should've seen that coming,” she said. Morgan met her eyes and her stomach lurched. She thought she had seen murder in her face before, but this was different. This was beyond desire or rage, this was as close to will and magic as a ghost could get. Morgan looked down the street and at the flicker of passing sirens and traffic lights. She was going to get shredded up and down the interstate if she tried to race Constance, and everyone just trying to drive home for the holidays, going to the grocery store, or trying to get the hell out of here for good.

“We gotta go!” Morgan dove out of the car as Constance vanished into the console, taking control of the wheel. She took off into the nearest yard, crashing through a fence before she coordinated herself enough to vault over another. She landed all wrong, bending the bones in her leg sideways but kept going. Running to the outskirts wasn’t going to be any fun, but maybe it would save a few lives. “Fuck, I hate this! You wouldn’t know how to climb things, would you?”

Agnes froze, understanding the implications of Morgan’s question. There had been games played in trees when she’d been a child, stretching for the highest, ripest apples in the trees. Then there had been the times she had to leverage herself into small nooks and crannies to find herself a moment’s peace from her husband’s incessant demands, and teaching her children how to hide and run from the events of the curse. She wouldn’t have ever described herself as a good climber, but she could do better than this, surely?

It wasn’t really even a question of whether she could. If Morgan could not clear the route back to Jasmine and Blanche, then Agnes might have found even fresher ways to fail her family. Agnes reached out, through Morgan’s hand, her arm, and then right to her heart. It did not beat, but it still hummed with energy. There was a small nook under her aorta. Agnes envisioned herself pouring into that nook like treacle out of a jug, except that there were no space limits at all. Once there, she expanded out, out, out, until she filled Morgan like she had once filled herself. It took her a moment to reorient herself where gravity had an effect, but then she was off, hurling through the outskirts faster than her human body could ever have sustained. Agnes had not felt physical pain in decades, and was less careful because of it, but she was also faster.

There was a moment of biting cold, the first Morgan had felt since she’d died, then a wave of grief, like there were too many sobs stuck in her chest, drowning her from the bottom of her lungs and up to her mouth. “Agnes,” she gasped—then there was quiet and a darkness almost like sleep.

Constance saw the Bachman women collide and disappear into the trees, scrambling like a squirrel from a fox. She seethed and electricity cackled from the power lines above her, but only a flicker. No flames, no splitting wood. Something inside Constance was breaking further, something Iike strength. She held no more illusions of love and hope and wishing, but it burned worse than any flame to see Agnes choose Morgan, help Morgan, save Morgan. Always Morgan and her wretched happiness, her stolen life. “You’re mine!” Constance shrieked.

She followed them, tearing through the dark as the pair, now bound into one body, raced over the bridge and up to the outskirts. The wind roared with each of her screams, topping them over and knocking them into the trees. Windows trembled and bowed in the automobiles she passed. On they went. Constance surged behind her once, too furious to concentrate enough to pull on their hair or throw them into the river. She tried to reach inside, to worm her way in. If she had been more clever, she would have done this from the start and forced Morgan to her doom. But she only phased through and watched helpless as the Morgan-Agnes creature vanished into the woods. She pulled on every thread of energy she hand and sped through. She would snap her neck, she would pick her up and run her through every branch in the forest. Constance reached for the pair again and sneered with satisfaction when they went flying and tumbled into the street. “You did this! You did all of this! You killed me!” She tossed them with the force of her will again. Morgan-Agnes rattled to their feet, like a puppet pulled on all the wrong strings and fell again. “You need to pay for what you did! All of you!” She was so fixated on spending herself making the pair suffer at once, she didn’t see Blanche or the circle set in the ground. Her world had burned down to a single thread of pain and Constance would unravel it down to the last fiber.

If the howling of the wind and the thudding of Morgan’s body being thrown about wasn’t enough indication that Constance was there, the bone chilling sensation that ran under her skin would have. There was no time for Jasmine to ponder the situation. Think the moment over. It was something her aunt had taught her early on; develop an instinct so sharp that you could act swiftly. “This is it,” she told Blanche before clasping the young woman’s hand in her right hand and the gem of her aunt’s necklace in her left. While Blanche couldn’t chant the words with her, her energy could give Jasmine the edge she needed to get them all out of here alive. Constance barreled through like a storm, sights only set on Morgan who judging by the extra nerves firing off inside her was possessed by Agnes. The thunderous rage in her eyes could not make Jasmine back down. This had always been inevitable and she would go about this in the kindest way for the girl Constance once was. The familiar Latin chants poured from her mouth with her voice even and strong. Her focus would not be deterred no matter how much chaos Constance brought in her wake. She kept repeating the part of the ritual that would draw Constance into the salt circle. Once. Twice. Three times. As many times as it took.

Agnes felt the ice filling her - Morgan’s - brain, as Constance tried to squeeze inside too, to rip them both from the inside out. Unsure of what else to do, Agnes just ran through her, wincing as the place their hearts might have been touched in ways they hadn’t been permitted in life. Far too late now. She could hardly remember the route that Morgan had driven, unfamiliar with this terrain, but she could feel the medium Constance had been with before like Blanche was a flame and she was but a moth. Perhaps it was that Blanche had already summoned her once, perhaps it was the second light that was the exorcist beside her. She found her way to them, only to lose sight of Constance. Agnes barely responded as Morgan’s skin was scraped by their landing, the burning bending of her bones. She could barely get the body upright before Constance threw them again. The words stung more than the jerking of this body, but Agnes was careful to protect the head. “You did this, Constance.” She replied eventually, in a voice as much her own as Morgan’s. “You made your choices too.” Agnes hardly believed her words, but she needed to keep Constance’s attention on them, not on Jasmine or Blanche.

Blanche’s grip on Jasmine’s hand was so tight, she was sure Jasmine was going to yell at her for it, but as the icy feeling spread through her body as Constance and Agnes (via Morgan) approached had her holding on for dear life. This was the one moment she wished she could help, that she knew the right words and the right power to end this now. She didn't want to watch Constance become nothing while the memory of her twirling under the Christmas lights still hung close to her mind. It was a happy memory tainted with anger and murder, and Blanche trembled as she focused on pushing every last ounce of energy she had into Jasmine. She wanted to close her eyes to spare herself of watching Constance unravel, but things were bound to fly and it wouldn't be safe for anyone, especially Jasmine, if she shut her eyes tight. Words sounded like static, and Blanche let in a deep breath as she tried her best to focus on Jasmine’s voice rather than the ghost fight in front of her. She understood their intent even if she didn't know the translation itself, and as Constance’s shrieking echoed in her ears, Blanche reminded  herself there was no other way. All options had been exhausted. She was exhausted and this was it.

It passed in an instant, like the jolt you got from snapping awake after a nightmare: Morgan was sliding helplessly over the yards in the East End, and then she was on the ground, struggling to get her bent bones to hold her up. The air burned her cheeks, her skin torn to shreds from scraping along the asphalt. Staggering to her feet, she saw a sideways view of Blanche, trembling with the fierceness of her reserve. “I’m---I---” Her words crackled in her throat. Right, she needed to breathe with her ribs bowing through them in five places. She winced as the ground vanished and crashed to the grass again. You’d think after all this time, she’d be used to it.

“No!” Constance screamed. Her voice twisted in the air, wailing with pain that went beyond nerves and feeling. It was as though she had become it and burst, splattering her anguish like blood. But the circle surged with light and all the wind in the air wasn’t enough to keep Constance from falling into it. She reached out with both hands, her airy fingers trembling with strain. She looked to Blanche. She should have known. From the first moment Blanche had come up to her at the funeral, she should have guessed. Blanche hadn’t been a spy or a cheat, but she had not been her friend or anything else Constance had deluded herself into wishing for. “I should’ve ended you!” She sobbed. “How could you make me this!”

Morgan finally got to her feet, cradling herself as she staggered to the edge of the circle. The circle seemed to be pulling on Constance’s clothes with a hundred fingers. But Morgan knew there was nothing to tear or pull on but her. Tears, thin and wispy as frost fell from the corners of her eyes and vanished into the circle of light. Maybe it was the magic, or just how little all their pain amounted to, but Morgan couldn’t see the ghost from her nightmares or her paranoias anymore. Only a raw, anguished nerve wrapped in a hurt girl. Morgan couldn’t think of anything sadder or more familiar than that. “I’m...sorry,” she breathed. “I get it, I do. You had to do something to stop feeling this way. It’s the worst kind of hurt to see everything you love fall away and find yourself in the last place you wanted. I know, Constance. And I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. None of you are. Not once!”

Morgan stared into her trembling, translucent eyes, which seemed to grow as the rest of her came apart. “I know that feeling too. And I’m sorry, honey. I’m even sorry it has to be over. I am, okay? But whether you believe it or not, you’re not alone anymore. And it’s not enough, but it’s what we’ve got. Let go now, okay? Let it stop hurting. Please.”

Jasmine had been well practiced at tuning out chaos. Hell, she’d spent a good chunk of her life ignoring the ghosts around her once she realized others couldn’t see them. This was no different. This needed to end here and now and that meant her full concentration was mandatory. Blanche’s hand was grasped tightly in her own, almost to a painful extent, but there was no pausing her chants now. The thought of how tight her grip was for such a small person flashed through her mind for a moment, but the intent remained. Constance’s soul would be destroyed tonight. It wasn’t the preferred route, but Constance’s own choices had led her here. She ignored the chill that surged through her body and kept pushing through the words. Constance was being pulled into the circle now and would soon be trapped there until this was all through. That wouldn’t stop her from throwing a ghostly temper tantrum in the meantime, but it was a start.

Once Constance was trapped in the salt circle, Jasmine continued on to the next part of the ritual. Branches and rubble flew all around them. She found strength and power both in Blanche’s grip. Getting them out of here and ending this now would push her through. Her voice shouted over the howling of the wind and she gave Constance a harsh gaze to let her know she wasn’t backing down. Jasmine never stood down. A few lone sticks and stones had hit her, but they felt lighter than they should have and only left minor bruises and scratches in their wake. She was sure she had Agnes to thank for that. It made it apparent she could tune out her surroundings a bit more safely. She hardly picked up on any of the chatter around her though she was almost sure it was namely from Constance.

Constance’s wind was weakening now and continued to do so the more she chanted. Jasmine could see her form fading now. Only a few more repetitions and they would be poltergeist free and she could turn her attention back to Blanche who was clearly distressed. She was holding up though which was a true testament to the potential she held. The shrieks coming from Constance were nearly muted now and the wind was dying down as she fought to stay on this plane or at least take Morgan with her. It was sad to see someone so young so utterly taken over by rage that they hardly resembled a person anymore, but choices always had consequences. One final shrill sound escaped Constance before she faded away completely. The thrashing wind calmed and rubble fell to the ground.

The calm after a tough exorcism was always strange. The calm after the storm is what she could say if she wanted to be cliche. Jasmine could barely feel her legs like jelly underneath her so she took a moment to steady herself before she softly said, “It’s over now. She’s gone.” With her energy levels being severely lowered, she hardly even had it in her to shoot Morgan an annoyed glance. It came across as more of a grimace, but she guessed when it came down to it, Morgan made the right choice.

Beyond anything, Blanche wished there was some comfort to the wailing woman in the middle of the circle, caught as Jasmine’s ritual unraveled her soul for the last time. She said nothing because she didn’t want to distract Jasmine and, more distinctly, there was nothing to say. The poltergeist’s essence had cast a cold layer of ice under her skin, and she wasn’t able to feel anything at all except the energy leaving her body and her soul being destroyed. Slowly, her body began to warm, the ice thawing as Constance was no more. She knew immediately when it was over, but found herself unwilling to let go of Jasmine’s hand, clutching it hard until the sudden wave of dizziness passed. Blanche refused to pass out. She refused to go down now. 

After a moment, Blanche allowed herself to let go of Jasmine’s hand and sink down to the icy ground. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t rip her eyes from the spot Constance had been. “... I tried,” Blanche whispered. “I’m sorry. I tried.” Hot anger swelled in her again, burning through whatever ice was left in her body. With fire came pain. The pain in her ribs raged to the point where tears pricked her eyes, and the small cuts and bruises from the evening was an overwhelming ache that almost set her outwardly sobbing. Worse yet was the pressure of guilt and grief sticking in her chest. Blanche sank backward into the snow, letting the cold numb herself back up because now that it was over, there were no more choices to make.

It was Constance’s blow that pushed Agnes out of Morgan’s body, which forced Agnes to face the reality of the circle. Somehow, without ears made of flesh and bone, she felt Constance’s scream all the more keenly, rippling through every part of her. It was easier to turn her back on her, once again, and steel her heart as she formed a buffer around Morgan, Blanche and Jasmine, beating back as much debris as she could. When the screams ended and the debris calmed down, Agnes looked faint even beyond her normal pallor. Agnes collapsed to her knees, staring at the circle and wondering if being in there might have been better. Now there was nothing but to return to the painful monotony of eternity. 

Morgan stared at the empty spot where the girl had been. The whole time, she hadn’t broken Constance’s gaze once, even as her face dulled in its ghostly sheen and unraveled like an old patchwork quilt. It was too terrifying to watch the threads of her dissolve into the light, nothing and nowhere, not even ash or goo. Her eyes, the last recognizable part of her humanity, streamed with hurt. At the end, her screams were so quiet they sounded more like a child’s cry. When the last sound died and Constance Cunningham was no more, Morgan’s ears rang with their echo. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to the nothing, hanging her head. Her fingers twitched, aching to take Constance’s hurt and feel something of her and understand just a little better. But there was nothing. 

She pressed her hand to her chest, righting the bones that hadn’t sprung back the right way. Her two lifetimes of hurt still throbbed in her dead heart. Nothing won. Nothing changed. Just a dull, unending ache. But there was no beat to pace it evenly; only more nothing. Where did the pain go? Constance’s pain should have drained the earth or razed the forest. She had taken down bodies and destroyed neighborhoods, but those would get fixed or spawn new wounds to fester and twist until they spawned more of their own. But where was the rest of it? Where was the mound that buried it for good? Was becoming nothing the only answer? No. There had to be something better. Even if she couldn’t trade pain for peace and happiness, even if it was completely worthless (and stars above, it sure as fuck was starting to feel that way) it had to be able to go somewhere else. This couldn’t be the only way. Morgan’s fingers reached out, cradled the nothing left behind it in her palm, and as the tears she’d held in came free and blurred her vision with a moonlit sheen, it almost looked like a piece of magic had landed on her fingertip. “I’m sorry,” Morgan whispered again. She sagged on her feet and crushed the illusion in her hand.

[divineluce]

A Spirited Discussion || Jasmine & Luce

Timing: Backdated to Early December

Location: The Vural Residence

Tagging: @halequeenjas & @divineluce

Description: Back when Jas was staying at the Vural House, Luce had some questions about ghosts. Who better to ask than someone she’s despised since middle school?

It was entirely unsurprising to Jasmine that Beatrice opened up her home to her. Bea had always kind of been the mom friend and she loved that about her. In a lot of ways, it brought her back to a simpler time. A time where late-night secrets were whispered and hushed laughter was shared. Having lost Bea before, it made those small moments seem that much more precious. It almost completely made up for the fact she was missing her bed and luxury sheets. Almost. She had no appointments this morning, so she found herself alone in the kitchen with coffee Bea had made earlier that morning. She had made herself cozy at the table with her coffee and a muffin when she heard footsteps. She assumed it was Nellie, but was surprised to see Luce joining her at the table. She feigned shock and joked, “What have I done for the ever-elusive Luce to join me for a cup of coffee on this fine Saturday morning?” She thought of throwing in she’d have to add it to her calendar as the anniversary of the day Luce willingly spent some time with her, but she wasn’t going to push her luck.

Luce felt like shit. That had been the vibe for most of her days as of late, so she shouldn’t have been too surprised by it. It only made sense, right? You get talked into killing someone by an angry teenager, you fucking light a bitch up in a back alley and then… you feel like shit. Every night, she was haunted by what she’d done that day, the image of Lydia’s melting skin, wreathed in her fire seared into her mind. Some nights, she stayed awake for as long as she could, trying to put off the nightmares as much as possible. Running a charcoal smeared hand through her hair, Luce tossed the pencil back on her desk. She could smell coffee wafting from the kitchen and she let out a sigh. Maybe that would help her feel less like this. Leaving the mess of swirls and jagged lines, she made her way out to the kitchen and her eyes narrowed when she saw Jasmine. Sitting. In her spot. “Just make yourself at fucking home, I guess.” She muttered under her breath as she grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “Just here for the coffee. You’re an unexpected addition, just like most of the people who wind up sitting here in the morning. ” Luce replied, filling the mug nearly to the brim, with just enough space for a splash of milk. Adam, he’d apparently stayed here for a bit. And Blanche had been here too, Winston a few times, before they’d left town entirely. They were just a fucking pitstop of half the town, weren’t they

Had she been a less secure person, Luce’s disdain toward her might have bothered her. However, Jasmine just had an amused look on her face as she sipped on the coffee. She smirked as she retorted, “Well, Bea did tell me to make myself at home.” With a shrug, she glanced back down at the book she had been reading with her breakfast. She’d still been looking into more powerful destruction exorcisms for Larry Bob. It still made little sense to her that the previous one hadn’t worked. She flipped the book shut and decided she’d rather annoy Luce than herself. “You mean, you’re not here for the delightful company I provide,” she joked with a feigned sense of hurt. Maybe she should let Luce actually get some coffee in her before pissing her off, but where was the fun in that? “I’m kidding, I know for whatever reason you can’t stand me… which rude, but my feelings aren’t hurt. I’d still whack a ghost for you… Vampire shows up you’re on your own though.” 

“Yeah, that’s just shit people say when they’re being polite. You’ve shown enough houses, you should know that by now.” Luce said over the rim of her coffee mug and took a sip. Bea had made the coffee, she could tell. There was something about the way that she brewed it that was just different-- she couldn’t put her thumb on what it was, but it reminded her that this place was home. Grabbing a couple slices of bread from the cabinet, she stuck them in the toaster and pressed the lever down. She’d just make some breakfast and then fuck off back to her room. Luce glanced over at the other woman with an arched eyebrow. “Uh huh, for whatever reason.” She said, reminded of Jas’ continuous presence around their family home when they were growing up. But, her annoyed expression was broken when she heard the other woman’s words. Casting a sidelong look at the book that sat shut on the table, Luce tilted her chin to it. “What’s that? And… what do you mean, whacking a ghost for me?” She asked, cautious.

“I think Bea and I are far past politeness and faux niceties,” Jasmine chided before she took another bite from her muffin that Bea had been all too excited to make. Even the coffee tasted better somehow. It was something she always relished during their monthly brunch dates. Though a small smirk was present on her face, she shook her head. “I said what I said. Not that I’m too bothered, I don’t require anyone’s approval but my own.” She watched the annoyed expression fade from Luce’s face. Was it a surprise there? Did Luce not realize she was an exorcist? Sure, they didn’t talk to each other much, but she assumed Bea or Nell had at least mentioned it before. “You know, like--” she made a whacking motion with her arms like she was hitting a ghost with one of her iron rods. Her features scrunched up with confusion. “Did you not know I’m an exorcist? Who do you think put the wards up here?” 

“You sure fucking don’t.” Luce muttered over her mug, taking a long drink as she waited for the toaster to do it’s thing. If her magic was behaving normally, she’d just take the bread back to her room and toast it there, but… with how it’d be haved when she’d helped Adam dispel the Mortasheen from the beach. She had a feeling that she’d have better lucky shining a magnifying glass to the pieces of bread. No, better to suffer through Jas’ company and leave. As Jas made a swinging gesture, Luce rolled her eyes. “No shit I know you’re an exorcist. I just didn’t think that by exorcising ghosts you were straight up murdering them. I thought it was like… I don’t know, you getting your Jennifer Love Hewitt on.” She said shifting uncomfortably. Was Nadia a ghost? Could she be killed like this? Double killed or whatever?

Jasmine was confused now. Why would Luce think she murdered ghosts? Not that you could really kill what was dead, but she supposed sometimes she did have to actually destroy a soul. “Wait, what do you mean? I don’t murder ghosts. I meant whack is in like literal whacking. With an iron rod to get them to fuck off. Sometimes you’re not always ready for an impromptu exorcism in the middle of a Chili’s or whatever.” She mused further holding her coffee mug close to her, “I guess technically for poltergeists or demons I destroy their souls though one can argue there’s little left of their soul at that point-- For the most part, it’s just forcing ghosts to move on or you know, not hijack someone else’s body.”

“I don’t know how ghost shit works!” Luce said defensively. Because she really fucking didn’t. She’d read the books that Rio had given her-- which, she realized, were still sitting in her room. She should probably give those back to him. That would be one hell of an awkward conversation. “Uh huh, you, in a Chilis. That seems a lot less likely to happen than you double killing a ghost.” She said with a grimace. “Is there any way to get rid of ghosts for good? Or, if someone had been possessed before, does that make them like… extra enticing for poltergeists and shit to get back at them?” She asked. “Like, with the whole hijacking situation, will they just keep coming back to someone they’ve possessed?”

“Yeah, but you know me and should be able to deduce after all these years I’m not a murderer… Though given this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, I can’t be all that shocked,” Jasmine said with a hint of edge in her voice. Most of the time, Luce’s annoyance with her was amusing, but she didn’t quite like the remark that she was murdering ghosts. They were literally already dead for one. Aside from that, they needed to move on for their own good. If her mug hadn’t been in her hand, her arms would have haughtily crossed over her chest. Instead, she shot Luce a glare to get the point across. “It’s not killing ghosts,” she reiterated before her brows furrowed. Was Luce asking her honest to god questions? There had to be something up. She set her mug down and channeled all the patience she could muster. “Yes, that’s like 90% of what I do. Most people who remain on this plane after they died, died a traumatic death. They have unfinished business that honestly more often than not, has no way of being resolved. That’s where I come in. I get them to move on… albeit with a little bit of exorcism, but unless it’s a destruction exorcism, they move on. Find some peace.” She thought over her answer in reply to possession. Usually those who had a spirit or demon exorcised from them would have some sort of protective measures. “I think a lot of that can vary from person to person. There’s not a hard and fast rule for possession. I think the more strong willed a person is, the more difficult it can be to possess them, but that’s really something that’s only theorized in accounts at best. If someone has had a spirit or demon exorcised from them, typically they learn some protective measures to take. Some ghosts can become very set on a single person I suppose.” She knew Larry Bob continuously had his sights set on her demise. It could make sense if it was a vengeance thing she supposed. The why behind Luce was asking to begin with concerned her. Her gaze softened and she asked, “What’s going on Luce? If you have some sort of ghost problem, I can help.”

Lips pressing together into a tight line, Luce stared down at her coffee mug for a moment. Maybe Jas didn’t seem like a murderer. But, she’d never thought she was one either. Or that Bea or Nell would be killers either. When push came to shove though, they’d chosen one another over the lives of others. And she’d done worse than that, she’d killed without… any real reason. Lifting the mug to her lips, Luce took a long sip as Jas explained what exorcism was, what happened to people who went through it, all of it things that Luce had never heard of. Reading the books from the Scribary, they’d really only given her information from the perspective of hunters, and they deferred to exorcists when it came to ghosts. Outside of a few wards that she’d tried to draw, they hadn’t  provided much in the way of help. At Jas’s question, Luce spoke up slowly, “I don’t  have a ghost problem. Not me personally.” She paused, hands pressed against the warm ceramic of the mug. “Someone I... care about does. Some bitch took over her body years ago but she got rid of her for a while. But now the ghost is back and she pushed her out of her body. They were both there for a while, but she got… shoved out. I didn’t even know that sort of thing was possible.”

As much as Jasmine had tried to bond with Luce over the years, seeing her features filled with anything but snark or disdain brought a sense of worry over here. She knew Luce would hate Jasmine of all people worrying for her and would probably say something about not needing her. It didn’t change the fact she would anyway. They didn’t have to get along swimmingly for her to give a crap about her overall wellbeing. She nodded slowly and set her mug down on the table, “Even if it’s not you personally, I’m still concerned.” So she listened and connected the pieces. How many ghosts in town could there be that were pushing people out of their bodies? Realization showed across her face in the way her eyes narrowed slightly and she let out a soft sigh. “Do you mean Nadia or is there more than one body hijacking ghost pushing people out of their body?” She really, really hoped there was only the one. That was going to be a complicated ritual to perform once let alone twice. Blanche had mentioned there was a lead on it, but her own reading wasn’t promising. She answered gently, “To answer your question, it’s not common. I’ve been researching though the broken arm had me out of commission for a bit. It sounds like this ghost has learned how to wield her power and is very determined to take over that body. It’s possible to get her out and for your friend to repossess her body, but multiple exorcisms like that-- they’re rough on the body. Especially if the ghost is fighting… which if they’re a poltergeist is very likely. So it's fixable, it's just very delicate.”

At the sound of Nadia’s name, Luce shoulders stiffened. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Jas would know, but still. Hearing someone else say her name who knew exactly what was going on with Nadia, it was… as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Only to be replaced by a sharp wave of fear over what Jas’ knowledge of the situation meant. Luce moved to take another sip from her coffee but froze when she heard that body. “It’s not that body. It’s Nadia’s.” Luce said sharply, anger flaring her tone before she could catch herself. Grimacing, the witch set her mug down and stared at the pool of brown liquid for a moment. “So, it can be fixed. That’s,” She paused, trying to process that news. “Something.” It could be fixed. But, delicate? That meant it wasn’t a situation that could be fixed by anything that Luce could do. On a good day, she was about as delicate as a hand grenade. And with her magic as it was right now? Luce stared at the tattooed skin of her knuckles and grimaced. “How do you know about her? Are you trying to help get Nadia back in her body?” I want to help, those were the words she wanted to say. But how could she?

Jasmine noticed the way Luce tensed up. It answered her question before she even said anything though as much only made her more worried about the situation. Though she wouldn’t show it. Luce, for once, needed to have confidence in her. Of course, Luce was already getting snippy and she folded her hands together on the table as if it would hold her together. “Well, you hadn’t confirmed if I was right about the who, so I was trying to be vague. This may come as a shock to you, but seeing as I help people with possession, I’m kind of big on the whole bodily autonomy thing, too.” She saw Luce making an effort to relax herself and almost felt bad for being equally as snappy. Given their usually dynamic, it was more difficult than she would have likely to show patience. She let out a breath and answered, “Yes, it can be fixed. As I said, it’s still a delicate situation. That poltergeist isn’t going to give up her body easily and can cause damage on the way out.” It was true. There was also the risk of the poltergeist completely wrecking Nadia’s body on the way out. Even if that wasn’t the case, she may still be weakened. “I’ve met Nadia’s ghost and we talked for a bit. I also ended up meeting the exorcist who originally tried to get the ghost out of her body. He’s young-- bit off more than he could chew there. I wish I met him sooner so I could have taken the wheel, but that’s not how things work. So now, I’m doing a ton of research to ensure the ritual doesn’t kill Nadia. Though someone else mentioned there was another lead, but didn’t get any information, so I’m not sure if someone else is working on it.” 

Gritting her teeth together, Luce ran a hand through her hair, pulling her fingers through a few of the tangles. She’d never liked Jas. Never liked any of Bea’s friends, never really wanted to get to know them, never really cared to play nice with them. Which made this conversation all the more difficult. It was hard enough knowing that Jas was usually a smug bitch, but the fact that Jas was literally the only person she knew who could deal with this was something else. Blanche might be able to see ghosts, but the kid wasn’t an exorcist. And she was just that, a kid. Luce had already asked too much of her when Bea had died. She didn’t need to put more on her plate. Taking a steadying breath, Luce nodded “Sorry.” It was a word she rarely offered, but she needed Jas’ help. “You’ve met her? Y-you’ve--” Luce’s words caught in the back of her throat and she took the moment to take another deep drink from her mug. Fuck. Jas was trying to help. She was trying to fix things. “Who else knows about this? I want to help. If I can. I don’t know how much I can do but… If I can, I want to.”

Hearing “sorry” come from Luce was a shock in and of itself. Jasmine had always thought she’d be much more satisfied when this moment came. Given the circumstances, she could hardly be too smug about it. Someone Luce cared about was in an awful situation. There was no relishing in that. Not with any sort of good conscience anyway. She let out a soft sigh and softened her features. Brows no longer scrunched together and eyes offering more in the way of understanding. “It’s fine,” she said softly in a way that felt so foreign to her normal conversations with Luce. “I have, yes. Entirely on accident, but she seemed as okay as she could be given the circumstances.” It felt important to let Luce know that. It was even more of a surprise she was offering her help. “If you’re up for some reading, I could use some help getting through the books. I ultimately want to minimize the risk of the ritual taking a potentially fatal toll on her body.” 

Luce’s shoulders had squared slightly, prepared to face some kind of gloating comment. But, it never came and instead, Jas was reassuring her. She hated this. She hated feeling like Jas was pitying her, like she was weak. But, Luce was weak. This wasn’t her element and she had no real power to do anything in this situation. And even if she had power, had her flame fully at her disposal to channel around her, what then? She couldn’t burn a ghost out of a body. Her magic was destruction and little more than that. Staring at the counter top, Luce took in the other woman’s words mutely. The relief she felt at her words, though, it washed over her in a calming wave. It confirmed what she’d heard from Nadia that night, when she’d seen her in the mirror of her scrying mirror. That the other woman was out of immediate danger. At least for now. Head jerking up at Jas’ offer, Luce blinked. “Reading? I-- sure. Yeah, I can do that.” A fatal toll. Luce didn’t want to think about that possibility, as though even the act of thinking about it would bring it into reality. “I can help.” She could help. If Luce could help bring Nadia back safely into her body, maybe there was hope for her. Maybe there was more to her than just… ruin. She had to try.

[hollywoodfamerp]

 GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE... SOLD!

Hollywood Fame’s Date Auction this year raised a total of $2,999,000! The highest bidder in the auction went to Nick Robinson for his date with Awsten Knight! Nick donated a crushing $1,500,000.00 for his date! Congrats @notnickrobinson - you won an activity check pass!

Under the cut you will find the pairs from the date auction as well as the runner up (second highest bidder) for your celeb! Please keep in mind that if a celeb won more than one celeb in the auction, they were paired with whoever they paid the most for/bid for first making the runner up the actual winner for the date.

Please remember:

You have from today (May 3rd) until May 31st at 11:59pm EST to IM the main your date para/chatzy post when you post it on the dash or gif chat.

Whoever was being auctioned off - please send an IM to the person who won a date with you to plot! :)

Minimum for these threads are 6 replies. 

Please do not tag the main in these threads - just send it via IM so we can ensure we marked you off as complete since tumblr glitches so much with tags. 

Texts/tweets/photos will not count. 

If the person you have a date with leaves the roleplay/goes inactive - you will be excused from completing the thread. Just send us a message!

Alexis Kaufman and Harry Styles  Runner Up: Ronen Rubinstein

Awsten Knight and Nick Robinson  Runner Up: Namjoon Kim

Barbara Palvin and Namjoon Kim  Runner Up: Madelyn Cline

Glen Powell and Kendall Jenner  Runner Up: Sarah Shahi

Harry Kane and Ronen Rubinstein  Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes

Jason Momoa and Florence Pugh Runner Up: Ronen Rubinstein

Liam Hemsworth and Jasmine Tookes  Runner Up: Sarah Shahi

Lin-Manuel Miranda and Melissa Benoist (2nd Runner Up) Actual Winner: Ronen Rubinstein Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes

Lucy Hale and Tyler Hoechlin  Runner Up: Madelaine Petsch

Maia Mitchell and Elizabeth Olsen  Runner Up: Zoey Deutch

Miley Cyrus and Paul Rudd (3rd Runner Up) Actual Winner: Ronen Rubinstein Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes 2nd Runner Up: Melissa Benoist

Nick Jonas and Liam Payne  Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes

Oscar Isaac and Sarah Shahi  Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes

Sarah Hyland and Henry Cavill (3rd Runner Up) Actual Winner: Elizabeth Olsen Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes 2nd Runner Up: Melissa Benoist

Tom Payne and Josephine Skriver (3rd Runner Up) Actual Winner: Jasmine Tookes Runner Up: Paul Rudd 2nd Runner Up: Harry Styles

Valentina Zenere and Jacob Elordi Runner Up: Jasmine Tookes

[nelllraiser]

bea-day party | group chatzy ft. jack

LOCATION: illusions of grandeur.  PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze, @divineluce, @nelllraiser, @phoenixleah, @halequeenjas, @streetharmacist, @mor-beck-more-problems, @chasseurdeloup, @jane-the-zombie, @whatsin-yourhead, @professoranieves, @harlowhaunted, @themidnightfarmer, and best boy jack. (picture in link courtesy of rhi) SUMMARY: bea’s birthday party goes off without a hitch, apart from one very friendly sea-man. CONTENTS: strippers. (of the non-mime variety.) 

Luce finished off her second glass of champagne, looking around at the party that was in full swing. Literally. Swing dancing, who'd have thought. Setting the empty glass down on a table, she made her way towards the wall of champagne again. A wry smile slid across her face as she took another glass of very expensive champagne. Fuck the coven, fuck their mother, fuck their parents for abandoning them. This was their little revenge, a party fit for a queen, with a bill to match. Glass held loosely in her hand, she glanced over at a person lingering near the wall of champagne. "Help yourself, seriously. We went all out for a reason." She said with a grin before raising the glass up in toast. "Did you watch the show earlier?"

For the moment, Nell had placed herself by the entrance of Grand Illusions, showing those that had been invited to Bea's party to the private box and party room. Now, as she made her way back upstairs to the main events, champagne, and poker tables, she looked over everyone's outfits with a careful eye, trying to spot those that might not have dressed to theme, and preparing some scorching words should they have denied that part of the invitation. But then she spotted something that caught her even more off guard, a certain blonde hanging by the champagne towers. "Blanche?! What the hell are you doing here?" Her voice was loud enough to carry to anyone else in the close perimeter.

Bea had a champagne glass already in hand when she went into the room where the party was truly happening. It was her birthday and she'd get hammered if she wanted to. Taking a long sip, she nodded toward the poker tables in the back. "Anyone care to join me at the table?" She was fully intending on taking her friend's money tonight through the tables and had no shame in that.

Kaden didn't feel a lot like celebrating after what had just happened, but it was for Bea so there was never a doubt that he'd show up for this party if he could. He was also pretty sure there as no way Regan was going to put herself in this sort of big public space with all the stress that came with these kinds fo gatherings. He had her present for Bea with him all the same. A quick look around and the place was immaculately decorated, of course. He hoped his suit was okay, it was all he could manage. But he tried. First thing after dropping of the presents was to grab a thing of champagne from the fucking wall of it before heading towards Bea. "Happy birthday, again. I'll join if you want." He wasn't very good but it was all for fun, right?

There was nothing Jasmine loved more than a good party and she had high hopes that Beatrice could deliver. While her party planning skills weren't quite on par with her own, they'd definitely had some fun in the past. Plus, who didn't love a Gatsby theme? Her flapper headband and red sparkly dress that hugged her in all the right places really was an absolutely look. Some good photos of her Bea, and Leah were a requirement before leaving. She greeted the younger Vurals as she walked in and helped herself to some champagne. "It was quite the show," she mused with a wicked smile, "You don't have to tell me twice to grab some champagne."

Felix had to laugh when he first saw the joint. All they really needed was a couple signs about how silly prohibition was and they really had the theme in the bag. As gilded as the time had been, the party was even more so. He loved it. Bea deserved it. He’d make his way back over to her in time. He sipped idly on his champagne as he fluttered about the party floor, a wide smile in place as he surveyed the crowd. With the way things were going, it wasn’t out of place to keep an eye on anything being just that. Too many parties gone wrong, or right, kept him on his toes. He paused for a moment beside someone and cocked his head. “You lost any money at the tables yet?”

Morgan sauntered in, pleased to have an excuse to wear heels and some of the jewelry Deirdre had bought and kept stashed in their closet all this time. She almost didn't feel the chill of not having her girlfriend on her arm to make the night brighter. The sight of the Vurals excited her enough to make up for coming alone. "Hey, guys!" She called, twirling to show off her black jeweled flapper style dress."Bea, this is for you," she said, rushing over to the oldest Vural, and the crowd gathering around her. "Kaden, looking extra dapper today. I don't know about you guys, but since I can't get drunk, I'm up to blow a ton of money at Texas Hold 'Em."

Anita felt a little out of place at the party. Normally she would be at the bar flirting with any and everyone. But now she had a girlfriend , and it felt weird to continue to flirt with random women given the agreement she had made with Marley. But, surely there were other things to do at parties than just flirt with people, so Anita made her way to the champaign tower and grabbed a glass. Then she just made her rounds, walking around all the elaborate tables and attractions trying to spot somebody she might know. She saw Kaden and Blanche, but she didn’t really want to strike up a conversation with either of them.

Blanche had enough of the hospital after only two nights. She checked herself out early that morning and told exactly no one as she headed home to get dressed, leaving the bandages on her back visible. There was nothing to do about them. Bea deserved to have a good birthday, and honestly, Blanche wanted some time to chill and relax. .... And then there was Nell, yelling at her. "Drinking champagne?" Blanche asked, holding her glass up innocently. "And thinking about winning money by counting cards."

Jasmine eyed the poker tables and decided to follow suit. Was it the best idea when Larry Bob still had a habit of crashing her showings? Probably not, but she was decent enough at poker. Her father always had tables at their parties and she caught on young. She placed Bea's present on the gift table before joining the birthday girl's poker table. "Happy birthday, Bea," she said in a bubbly tone, "You've really outdone yourself with this party."

Jared spotted his two part time roommates and took in Nells face before he even half registered Blanche herself. He made his way through the crowds hover handed appropriately. "Are you...what's going on?"

Jasmine. Of course this bitch wore a red dress too. Whatever. Red was her color and she damn well knew it. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Luce shrugged at Jasmine, champagne flute cradled gently in her fingers. "Bea has an eye for talent, she knows how to put on a show and holds the others to those standards too. But, they did good tonight." She said with a nod of her head. As the woman drifted away, Luce spotted Anita through the crowd. What was she doing here? Making her way across the room, Luce cast a crooked grin in her direction. "Hey, stranger. Having fun?"

Leah was never much of a gambler. She usually preferred to watch in the background, silently judging people's drunken risks from afar. But today was different. Today was Bea's birthday, and with a few drinks in her and surrounded by people she loved and was comfortable with, it was easy to lose her inhibitions. She couldn't help but laugh at Morgan's antics, giving her a little clap as she twirled around to show her outfit. "That sounds like a plan to me!" she said with a laugh, holding up her champagne glass. "I'll drink enough for the both of us." She glanced over at Felix standing next to them, shaking her head. "I think I'm saving it all to waste it in one big blow. That's the way to go, right?"

"Yes, join me!" Bea grinned at Kaden, before catching a glimpse of Morgan twirling. "Looking amazing, Morgan, and I love that energy." She wanted everyone to have that spirit, blowing their money and drinking was the name of game tonight. "Thank you, Jasmine. You look great tonight. Nell and Luce helped me plan a lot."

Squinting her eyes ever so slightly, Nell watched Blanche carefully, as if she might burst back into flames at any moment. "Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" But she knew from experience that if Blanche wanted to be here, there was no way of making her go back to any sort of medical care. It was, tragically, one of the many ways in which the two girls were alike. "You count cards?" The witch carefully left off the too at the end of that sentence, not wanting and unwitting potential poker challengers to be clued in. "I bet we could start a new table," she said, catching the eye of Bea at one of them already. Might as well spread their resources to bring in as much revenue as possible, right? "Then she turned to Jared to explain. "Someone decided to check themself out of the hospital early, but now we're gonna go legally steal people's money. Did you wanna come? Does anyone else wanna start a new table with us?" she asked to those nearest to them, hoping they'd brought a decent amount of cash.

Anita smiled slightly when Luce approached her. For a moment she regretted coming. The only reason she even did was because she felt like she deserved a fun night, and given how lavish a party this was, it was clearly the place to be. “Hey yourself,” she said as she finished up the liquor in her glass. “I just got here, but so far- yeah. You guys really know how to go all out.” Instinctively her eyes trailed down Luce’s body for a second with a small smirk, “And you really know how to clean up.”

Jasmine smiled at Bea. As much as they bickered, this had all the workings of a good party and this champagne was divine. "They did a good job, too. It's still so crazy seeing them all grown up." She turned and gave Leah a wave and noticed there were a few people at the table she hadn't met yet. She looked to the French sounding man and the pale woman who had joined. She extended a hand to shake, "I'm Jasmine. I don't believe we've met before."

Luce watched Anita over the rim of her glass, eyes drifting up the other woman's form. "We're the Vurals, we never do anything by halves. Besides, 30's a big deal." She said with a wave of her hand to the elaborate decorations around them. Tilting her head at her comment, Luce raised an eyebrow. "Mm. Our father made the dresses, so it's his handiwork. Besides, we set the dress-code. What kind of hosts would we be if we didn't stand out, you know?" She said with a laugh.

Kaden nodded. "Thanks. Looking good, Morgan." He settled down at the table and took his cards. He didn't consider himself a great card player, but he was competitive so he was going to try his best to keep his money in his pocket. He gave the new woman's hand a shake. "Kaden. Nice to meet you. How do you know the birthday girl here?" Kaden caught a glimpse of his cards and groaned. Bad hand already. "Putain," he grumbled to himself, under his breath as much as possible before taking another drink.

Felix looked between Leah and the tables. His smile widened. "Oh, certainly! Nothing really livens things up like losing it all in one fell swoop," he said with a sagely nod. "It happens to the best of us. Even Arnold Rothstein!" Geez, the guys from decades back would be rolling over in their graves if they saw the place. "I think Nell's looking for a crew over there. There's worse places to lose but you gotta watch her. She's sneaky." He waved at Nell and Blanche before he wandered over to Bea. He lightly squeezed her shoulder as he smiled at the small crowd she had gathered at her table. "So, she take anybody's money yet? How're the hands looking?"

Morgan beamed at Leah, primping her finger curled hair and jeweled headdress. "What would I do without you, Leah? I hope that's a promise." She said, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze before settling at the table. She gave Kaden another once over, a little impressed he found it in himself to have some fun instead of doing whatever hunter nonsense or fae damage control he normally got up to. It was kind of nice to see him at least trying to have a good time. "Thanks, handsome. You look pretty good yourself. Maybe we can keep each other out of trouble tonight." As she settled in, she caught sight of a new person and shook her hand. "No, I guess not!" She said with a careless shrug. "I'm Morgan. It's nice to meet you! You're looking very spiffy tonight, I gotta say." And Morgan's hand was looking pretty spiffy too, though she tried not to let it show too much on her face.

Jared looked at Blanche in worry, but didn't voice his concerns, she knew her own limits. And while it didn't sound like a very good thing to be doing, he wasn't one for a fight at the moment. Not that he believed he had any say at all, he was far too soft to win a fight like that with anyone let alone Blanche. "I'll come, got no cash to be throwing down though. More for moral support I guess."

Jasmine couldn't help the sly smirk on her face when Kaden swore in French under her breath. "Nice to meet you, Kaden. Bea and I have been friends since high school. We were on the cheerleading squad together." She wouldn't mention that Bea beat her out for captain of the squad. With a small laugh, she added, "You know, you're not supposed to give away the fact you have a bad hand, but hey, no complaints here." She looked over her own cards and kept her face neutral before responding to the petite woman named Morgan. "Why thank you, Morgan. Couldn't show up to a Gatsby party looking anything but. I'm loving your outfit, too."

Bea nodded,"Yeah, sometimes I remember that Nell is twenty three and lose my mind." She let out a loud laugh at Kaden's groan,"You know, you're not supposed to let people know that you have a bad hand." She glanced at her own, mediocre at best, but she'd make it work. She looked back at Felix with a grin, flashing him her cards,"I haven't yet, but I will soon."

"Maybe," Blanche replied with a shrug, giving her friend a small grin. She was still in a fair bit of pain, but it helped to be distracted and surrounded by people she loved and cared about. She glanced at Jared a little sheepishly. "I hate hospital food." Not that she was feeling very hungry to begin with anyway. Blanche waved at Felix as she reached out to grab Nell's hand. "C'mon, let's go kick some ass with our friendly neighborhood cheerleader."

Anita let out a soft laugh, “I gotta admit I’ve never thrown a party that had a dress code. But you’re certainly right. This is a fancy party, and it deserves to have the people in it looking just as smashing.” She took a brief look around the room, finding herself relaxing a bit more when she spotted Morgan. At least there were two people here that she liked. “This is a bit awkward, but could you point out which one is the birthday girl? I’ve, uh, never actually met any of your sisters.”

Leah grinned widely and waved back to Jasmine, fully planning on pulling her and Bea into the photo booth at some point tonight to reenact some of their photos from high school. She laughed at Felix's comment, although she had no idea who he was talking about. Maybe some defamed poker star? She should have studied up before she came tonight. Turning her attention back to Morgan, she couldn't help but giggle again. As if to prove her point, she took another sip from her champagne, holding it out to Morgan like she was toasting to her once she was finished. Felix's idea was as good as any, though, and she called out to Nell, holding her bag up with a bit of emphasis. "I'll join a game, Nell!" she called, maneuvering through the crowd.

Morgan blinked with surprise at how close this Jasmine seemed to be with Bea. It's not every day Kaden got dragged in perfect stereo. "Neat party trick. Now I know you guys are real friends. It's good to finally meet you. Guess you've got your night cut out for you, Kaden. What're you gonna do about it?"

Felix weighed the pros and cons of asking Kaden how this party compared to the last one but thought better of it. With the sound of despair that the man gave at his hand, Felix figured he was already in for a rough night. The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked over at Morgan. "You think he's gonna need any help or should we just see what happens?"

Luce finished off her drink, the alcohol making things nice and fuzzy around the edges. She fucking deserved to get trashed tonight after all the shit that had been going on lately. Letting out a wry laugh at Anita's admission, she nodded. "I'll do you one better." She said tilting her head towards the table Bea was settled at. She could see Leah and Kaden hanging around Bea, which wasn't... ideal, but fuck it. Whatever. Walking over, she took in the cards on the table, lips curling in a smile. Bea was going to clean them out. "Who's getting fucked over this time, hm?" She asked as she approached the table. "Anita, this is the birthday girl. Bea, Anita. She's a... friend."

Nell knew that now wasn't the time to fight Blanche on this, and finally decided to simply watch the girl closely for the night. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and no doubt Blanche wanted a distraction. So just let it be fun. An excited smirk came over Nell as they neared the table, and her head turned as she spotted Leah making her way over. Was she okay winning money from her sister's best friend? Yeah, she was okay with that. "Come and join us!" Would Leah know the Vurals reputation with poker since she was so close with Bea? That might complicate things. Grabbing a champagne glass on her way to the table, she waved at Leah as she settled in. "Great! Come on over. We even brought our own cheering section," she said with a motion towards Jared.

Kaden grumbled. "Well it's clear why you two get along. I was folding anyway." He tucked the cards away and waited for the next round. He shot a look at Morgan and then at Felix. "There's always next round. It's fine." He downed the rest of his champagne. Good thing there was more where that came from. "Hey Luce. Anita. Come to see them take my money, I see."

Morgan beamed up at Felix, batting her eyes fondly. "It's more fun to see the chaos unfold, right?" She whispered sweetly to him. "Parties are more fun that way. But I won't let him get hurt too bad." She elbowed Kaden gently, warmth shining through her mischievous smile. "And hey," she said to the hunter, "A positive mindset can do a lot for your chances. Aim a little higher, champ."

Jasmine let her laughter ring as she looked to Bea. "Guess we have a habit of doing that, huh?" It wasn't surprising Kaden folded, but Morgan seemed to be pretty giddy. She wondered which of them had the better hand. "Just don't ask us to do that one on command. It's gotta be in the moment." Morgan seemed to be sweet. "There's always next hand... though I don't think you magically develop a good poker face." She added with a shrug.

Leah continued her trek toward Nell and her friends, giving Luce a big smile as she walked by. There was no doubt in her mind that she was about to lose all of her money- she wasn't experienced in poker in the very least, and the Vurals were scary good at poker. Still, her vast experienced in, well, ...lying... it might make her a good bluffer. She sat herself down at the table and finished off her glass, pumping her fist at the mention of a cheering section. "Oh man, dude, that's normally my job!". She drummed her fingers on the table, eager to get started. She let her eyes fall to Nell's, pointing to her threateningly. "Are you prepared to get your ass kicked, Vural?", she asked, teasing. Maybe the alcohol was making her more confident than she should be.

Remmy idled. They had definitely gotten ready on time, but the last time they'd gone to a big public outing, it had not gone well. Morgan was already there, she'd gone early or on time or whatever people wanted to call it these days. Remmy glanced down at Moose. "Not this time, bud," cause no one would try something in a room with all three Vurals present, right? And so, an hour later, Remmy had found themself outside the doors, listening to the chatter inside. Someone came out and held the door open for them and Remmy was suddenly forced to scuttle inside. What greeted them....wasn't exactly what they'd thought it would be. If they had the ability, they might have paled. Still, they swallowed and gathered themself, tugging on the lapel of their suit, and made a beeline for the present table. Maybe if they could just leave their gift and go, it would count as having shown up.

Anita followed Luce across the room, dropping off her empty glass and picking up a full one on the way. She didn’t love that Bea was at a table with Kaden, but Morgan was there also, so that balanced things out. Plus, Kaden had a sour look on his face, so maybe he wasn’t doing so good at the card game. “Absolutely,” She shot at Kaden. “Sounds like a fun way to pass the time.” Anita smiled politely at the other people sitting playing poker, winking playfully at Morgan as she caught her eye. “So nice to meet you, Bea. Happy Birthday, welcome to the big 3-0 club. It’s not as awful as it sounds, I promise.”

A right hunk of a man walked into the building, dressed in a basic white long sleeved shirt and long linen trousers, with a black loose next tie and a white sailor's cap. If you looked closely, you could see the velcro fastenings on all his clothes. With an exaggerated strut and a million dollar smile, he walked up to a random individual. "Well hey now good gentlefolk! I seem to have stranded on this 'ere shore. Could ya point me to the captain of this ship, a Miss Bea Vural?" He winked, flexing his arms, but casually.

"Chaos? Here?" Felix's tone dropped into a conspiratorial one. Chaos in the presence of all three Vurals? "Say, Morgan, I think we got a long, eventful night ahead of us." The fae looked over to Luce and her friend. Raised his champagne glass in greeting. "Glad to meet ya and glad you could make it out. Hiya, Luce!"

"Hey Leah," Blanche laughed as she took a seat next to Nell. "You both talk big game, huh? I think - oh my god." Blanche went a little slack jawyed when she caught sight of a sailor. She swatted Nell and pointed. "Who the hell is that??"

Jared raised his arms in a shared cheer for the cheering section and mumbled about his cheerleader outfit before looking at the sailor who'd just arrived with curious eyes. "That's her." he pointed to the birthday girl.

Luce was about to say something to Kaden, make a pithy joke at his expense. But, as a muscled man made his way to the table, arms flexing and clothes far too tight, she resisted the urge to gag. "I think the fuck not." She murmured. Casting an apologetic glance in Felix's direction, she tilted her head away. "I'm gonna go... away from here. Have fun, Bea." She said, squeezing her sister's shoulder before hurrying away from the table. She was not interested in seeing stripper dick. Walking away, she hurried as fast as she could away from the table to one of the quieter corners of the room, the gift table.

Bea let out another laugh,"Aw, Luce, don't say it like that." She raised an amused eyebrow at Luce,"A friend, huh? Nice to meet you, Anita. I'm trying not to think too much about being thirty. Make sure to grab some champagne." She glanced at Jasmine with a grin,"We do that too much." Grinning at Morgan and Felix, she replied to them,"There is never chaos at a party like this!"

Jasmine peered over her champagne flute long enough to see the hot sailor man saunter on over toward the birthday girl. She set her glass down and arched an eyebrow. "I didn't realize this was going to be that kind of party, but I'm not complaining."

"Oh come on, Leah. You know I don't have the attention span for poker," Nell lied easily. "My sisters were always better at it, which is why I put slugs in their beds." Her face was complete with a sense of resentment, as if the words were true. But the arrival of a certain someone caught her eye, and a wide smirk quickly found her lips. "Oh, that? That is Jack. He's nice, isn't he? Very shiny. Very buff. Very good at dancing."

Morgan followed Felix's gaze to Luce and Anita, who seemed to be looking rather comfortable together. She couldn't help the way her eyes bulged at the combination, especially with Remmy finally strutting up the room behind them all. "You sure aren't kidding, huh," she whispered to Felix. She tried to recover quickly. "Hey! I didn't know you knew Bea and Luce, Anita! It's great to see you here. I hope you plan to drink enough for--" her conversation died into a snort as the sailor stripper came in. "Vural parties really do pull out all the stops."

Bea head whipped toward Luce. "What is this, Luce?" She asked as she was being abandoned. She downed the rest of her champagne before holding her hand out for more,"I need more champagne." What is happening? She hadn't planned for a stripper. She supposed it wasn't the worst thing, but this was a whole lot of a lot.

Remmy had successfully made it to the gift table. They could almost pick out their friends' voices through the haze of everything, spotting them all laughing over at a table. They considered, for a moment, joining them, but if they were playing cards, they weren't sure they could stop themself from card counting and that seemed unfair for a birthday party. So, instead, they set the card down they'd made Bea, turned to slip back through the crowd-- and ran straight into Luce. "Oh!" They stuttered, stepping back. "Hey, hi. Hello! Um-- I'm just-- I didn't see you there. You look--" they paused, staring a little slack-jawed at her. Tried to swallow. "This place is--" they tried to pry their eyes away, but couldn't. "I'm just gonna...." but didn't move. "Leave now."

Anita followed everyone else's glances towards the man in velcro clothing. She had to stifle her laugh because this man was clearly about to strip for the ‘captain’, the birthday girl herself, Bea. “This is gonna be fucking hilarious.” Anita said to Morgan as she finished off a second glass of champagne. After she acquired another glass, she sat down in the chair beside Morga, then looked around the party. “No girlfriend tonight?” She whispered as she mentally prepared herself for the horror that was the male body.

Kaden blinked a moment at the goddamn striper that rolled up to the table. And then he started laughing. "At least he's not a mime." He shot a glance to Felix. "This also your idea?" Knowing he was a fae surely explained a lot more of the chaos. He saw some champagne on the table somewhere, didn't care whose it was and handed it to Bea, still laughing at the whole situation.

Jack smiled beautifully as a couple people pointed him over to a table. "Oh I'll be sure to thank y'all properly later." He winked, strutting his way over to the table with a wide smile. He tipped his cap. "Ma'am. I heard someone was in need of the art of seaduction?" He shifted his pose, so under the thin cloth of the shirt his large, impressive pecs popped.

Luce had made a quick exit from the table, practically fleeing from the male stripper. In her hurry to get away, she didn't realize where she was going until it was too late. Remmy-- Fuck. Shit, shit, shit. "Oh. Hey." She said awkwardly. As she stood there, listening to them stutter, she weighed which was worse-- going back to the table and suffering through... that or stand here and talk with Remmy. Honestly? She wasn't sure. "You... look good. Nice suit." She nodded before frowning. "Leave? Didn't you just get here?"

Leah looked over to the new guest, her eyebrows furrowing at the intrusion. This man was not someone she recognized, and her eyes were accusatory as he walked through the guests. Oh, god, was he a stripper? It all became clear when he spoke, he's dramatic tone making it obvious. If she could have shrunk down into her chair, she would have. She desperately hoped that being situated at the poker table would make her go unnoticed by him... she did not want some random dude dancing all over her, no thank you. He'd probably be pretty distracted by Bea, anyway. She turned her attention back to the table, choosing to essentially ignore his presence. "He's certainly something", she said, responding to Blanche and Nell. Her eyes were accusatory again, and it was all she could do not to laugh at Nell's words. "I'll make sure to buy something nice with the money I'm about to win from you", she said, feigning confidence. "Maybe I'll even get you a gift!". She turned her attention around to Jared, winking at him. "Are you our dealer?"

Felix threw back his champagne in record time and took a moment to get a few more glasses for everyone before he took his own seat. He looked over at Kaden. "Nope," he said with a pop. A grin followed as he took a drink. "It's not my fault this time. I'm just happy to be here, fella."

"... Well," Blanche said, glancing at Nell. This had to be her doing. She started to snicker, tipping back her champagne. She was immediately distracted from counting cards and that was certainly fine by her. "He's certainly... a seaman." Blanche made a face. "And shiny??"

Morgan sniggered alongside Anita and used everyone's distraction to advance her hand in the game a little. "No, she's uh, a little indisposed right now. Although she might be sorry she missed this much fun later. She's a fan of just about everything here, booze, friends, counting cards, and a little chaos." The stripper popped his pecks and Morgan had to look away when she started to laugh too hard, even with her politeness reserve. "Kind of a shame we didn't get one of each, huh?"

"I did not do this," Bea let Felix know as a glass of champagne was placed in her hand. "Thank you," She told Kaden, laughing slightly. As his pecs popped, Bea was both impressed and a little startled. That was a sight. "I suppose that someone is me, sailor. Work your magic."

Something was going on over at the table of all their friends, but Remmy was always a one-track mind kind of person. Easily distracted. And Luce was certainly a distraction. They weren't sure if they wanted to stay there, though, when she was looking at them like that. "Oh, uh--" they blinked and looked up, "I can like...I was just-- maybe? It's uh-- I figured I can just go say hi to Bea and then, you know--" scratched their neck, "leave." Tried to smile, turning to look towards the table and-- "Is that a stripper?" they blurted loudly.

Leah looked over to the new guest, her eyebrows furrowing at the intrusion. This man was not someone she recognized, and her eyes were accusatory as he walked through the guests. Oh, god, was he a stripper? It all became clear when he spoke, he's dramatic tone making it obvious. If she could have shrunk down into her chair, she would have. She desperately hoped that being situated at the poker table would make her go unnoticed by him... she did not want some random dude dancing all over her, no thank you. He'd probably be pretty distracted by Bea, anyway. She turned her attention back to the table, choosing to essentially ignore his presence. "He's certainly something", she said, responding to Blanche and Nell. Her eyes were accusatory again, and it was all she could do not to laugh at Nell's words. "I'll make sure to buy something nice with the money I'm about to win from you", she said, feigning confidence. "Maybe I'll even get you a gift!". She turned her attention around to Jared, winking at him. "Are you our dealer?"

Felix threw back his champagne in record time and took a moment to get a few more glasses for everyone before he took his own seat. He looked over at Kaden. "Nope," he said with a pop. A grin followed as he took a drink. "It's not my fault this time. I'm just happy to be here, fella."

"... Well," Blanche said, glancing at Nell. This had to be her doing. She started to snicker, tipping back her champagne. She was immediately distracted from counting cards and that was certainly fine by her. "He's certainly... a seaman." Blanche made a face. "And shiny??"

Morgan sniggered alongside Anita and used everyone's distraction to advance her hand in the game a little. "No, she's uh, a little indisposed right now. Although she might be sorry she missed this much fun later. She's a fan of just about everything here, booze, friends, counting cards, and a little chaos." The stripper popped his pecks and Morgan had to look away when she started to laugh too hard, even with her politeness reserve. "Kind of a shame we didn't get one of each, huh?"

Something was going on over at the table of all their friends, but Remmy was always a one-track mind kind of person. Easily distracted. And Luce was certainly a distraction. They weren't sure if they wanted to stay there, though, when she was looking at them like that. "Oh, uh--" they blinked and looked up, "I can like...I was just-- maybe? It's uh-- I figured I can just go say hi to Bea and then, you know--" scratched their neck, "leave." Tried to smile, turning to look towards the table and-- "Is that a stripper?" they blurted loudly.

Jasmine considered sharing her champagne with the birthday girl, but apparently Kaden already had her covered there. She leaned over and whispered to Bea, "Kudos to whoever picked the stripper out. He's hot." She scanned back over to see Leah's reaction and grinned at her furrowed brows. "Not the classiest party favor, but hey, fun doesn't always have to be classy."

Anita couldn’t help but let out a fairly loud laugh when she saw the stripper talking about seduction and flexing his chest muscles. It was way too over the top. “Well, at least you’ll have a hilarious story to tell her.” She replied to Morgan, motioning over to the sailor. “Uh, could you imagine? That would be a real party.” Anita looked around the table, looking to see how everyone else was reacting to this man. “But hey, since we’re both here solo, we should have some fun, yeah?” She asked, lifting up her glass to cheers.

Jack met Bea's eyes and smiled temptingly. He saluted. "Aye aye captain. I hear this here's some sorta celebration, and I'm your gift." He winked, lifting up a part of his costume, the faux white belt that attached to his trouser. He offered the end of it to Bea. "So maybe you should unwrap me?"

"How could I refuse?" Bea replied with a chuckle, before taking the belt in her hand, sipping on her champagne. This was a hell of an experience, but she would remember this for her sisters' birthdays.

"I'm sure Bea would be happy to see you, but..." Luce grimaced as she gestured behind her, to the crowd that was growing around Bea's table. She watched as the man handed her the belt of his pants and grimaced. "She's got a little bit going on right now." She said before letting out a sigh and rubbing her forehead. "Yeah. Someone got her a stripper and it sure fucking wasn't me." She mumbled. "I need a drink. I need... many drinks." Luce said as she walked over to the champagne wall and took two glasses, downing one then the other in rapid succession. "Good fucking jesus."

Nell watched the stripper events unfold with far too much amusement in her eye, pausing from her game for a moment. "I don't know why everyone's looking like I did something. He's the one docking his ship at my sister!" She had definitely done something. If you could include hiring a secret stripper as doing something. "It's probably all the sea mist that makes hims shiny."

Jared shook his head to Leah. He was not qualified to be dealing them anything other than an awkward smile and a poorly covered astonishment as the stripper made moves towards Bea. The man took a full step behind Nell as if that would protect from from what was about to happen.

Morgan nodded at Anita, taking two champagne glasses from a passing waiter and holding them up in as classy a double toast as she could manage. "Oh, completely. If I manage to win anything, without her help, showing off her presents--well, she'll either be excited or jealous, and that's a win-win for me." She downed one glass in a single chug. "Sorry yours couldn't be here either. Sincerely. But I am all having a good ol' fashioned time without them." She turned over her shoulder to the stripper, "Dance, Magic Mike!" She called, laughing harder than she meant to.

"Okay, yeah," Remmy said, backing away from the gift table, "not going over there. My eye doesn't need to see that." They followed Luce over towards the champagne wall, not bothering to take a glass themself, feeling a little jealous that they couldn't also down two glasses in succession and get rid of the anxiety-- and the image of that large man unraveling his clothes next to Bea-- but decided it was fine. "So...fun birthday, huh?" Morgan's shrill laugh echoed and Remmy fought their curiosity to look over and see what was happening. "Wanna dance?"

Jared was looking anywhere but at what was occurring (he was bi but too innocent for this sort of thing) and caught eyes with someone he vaguely recognised. His mouth bloomed into a smile and he sidled over to Kaden. "No uniform? You didn't get hired for this one?"

Jasmine giggled with glee and gave a little "woop" as Bea took his belt in his hand. "Yes, sailor, we gotta sea this." She turned to Morgan with a wide grin and noted, "I like you, Morgan."

Leah let her eyes lock with Jasmine's, a clear look of panic gracing her features, though there was definitely playfulness laced within them, too. "I will murder you if something like this shows up for my birthday", she warned her, watching Bea and the stripper with masked amusement. "I think I need more champagne!" She rolled her eyes at Nell's joke, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter.

Slowly, Felix slid off his glasses and blinked. That had to be against some kinda sea safety protocol. "...So anyhow, August is an alright month, huh?" He said absently as he looked at the stripper, his expression a little less than amused. Oh heck. It was August. The ring on the table from the champagne glass stared up at him. Oh, it was that time, wasn't it? So focused on crime and whatnot, he forgot about the dang mushrooms. He loosened his bow-tie before he sat back further into his chair. Nope. Not dealing with that today. He occupied himself with his champagne glass and turned his gaze away from the man who, as Nell gracefully put it, was docking ship.

Jasmine feigned innocence. "I would never, Leah!" She had to admit, it would be pretty hilarious to see, but she wouldn't do that to Leah. "I, for one, disagree. This sailor is more than welcome to my birthday bash." She gave him a sly wink.

Jack gave her a sultry wink, and once she held the belt tightly enough, he stepped back, flexing every muscle in his body as the outfit popped off it, one velcro fastening at a time, until it all dropped to the floor. All he was left in was his navy blue mesh thong, and his matching necktie. His dark skin glistened, every inch of him (and he did mean every inch) was toned and muscled to perfection, a physique that could make anyone jealous or horny. He rolled his hips slightly, letting them look and salivate.

Kaden was sitting back and laughing at this whole thing. And hey, still not a mime stripper so it was really still a win. His brow furrowed when the kid with the tractor came over to him. "Oh, hi. Uh, what are you talking about?" A quick glance to the stripper and then back to the kid, it became clear what he meant. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not a mime. Or a stripper. I'm Bea's friend. You must be mistaken. Who are you anyway?" He was never admitting that was him the other day. Ever.

Luce made the mistake of glancing over at the loud laughs that rang out from Bea's table. And immediately wished she hadn't. Some things just couldn't be unseen. At least, not without far more champagne. "Fuck me." She said and took another glass from the wall, head already beginning to spin from the alcohol. "Dance? I--" She blinked. Dancing. "I... Sure. Why not." She said, taking their hand and walking with them over to the dance floor.

Oh this was much easier to deal with when this man had his pants on. Bea sent a look over to Felix that she hoped conveyed, Oh dear, lord what is happening? "Wow, consider me seduced." She finished her drink quickly. Was there going to be more after this?

Jared was taken aback for a second and then he made an oh shape with his mouth and grinned at the other. "Riiiiiight, not a stripper! Of course. No worries, I won't out you. Not dressed as a mime can't blow your cover I gotchu." he whispered.

Nell cupped her hands around her mouth, wasting no time it letting a loud whoop mixed with laughter fill the air as Bea undid Jack's attire, revealing his seascape to everyone. "Make him your bitch, Bea!" Maybe the champagne was hitting her harder than she'd thought. Then she turned back to Leah to say, "I'm getting you ten strippers for your birthday! You should be so lucky! I'm gonna get you the whole armada of sea-men!"

Oh. Luce had said yes. Remmy didn't actually think she would have said yes, but she had! They smiled, stealing only the slightest of glances over to Bea's table before turning back around when blue mesh was spotted in a place they didn't mean-- or want-- to look. They followed Luce over to the dance floor, placing their free hand on her hip when they made it there. "It was really nice of you guys to do this for Bea," they said to her, smiling. Maybe if they just didn't say anything weird things could be alright, "she deserves it."

Anita hesitated when Morgan made a loose reference to Marley. Realistically, she knew there was no way Morgan knew that they were actually girlfriends now, but she got oddly nervous. “Maybe a good thing given how our last double date went.” She smiled, then decided to change the topic. “How many drinks do you think it would take to enjoy this for more than just comedic purposes?” It was a tease, obviously, since the answer was infinity drinks. Anita looked over at the woman who seemed to be enjoying it the most and laughed. She was kind of jealous of the people who were enjoying it. Then she overheard someone asking Kaden if he was a mime stripper, and she absolutely lost it, keeling over with laughter. “He’s definitely a stripper! You just gotta offer the right price!” She called over in between laughs.

Bea glanced over at Kaden. "If you start stripping here, I will kick you out. I support you, but not here," She teased.

Kaden pinched his nose. "Kid, there's nothing to out. I work in animal control." He sighed, clearly there was no way to convince him so he downed the champagne he had left. Oh no. Anita heard, too? Which was worse, mime fucker or mime striper? "Putain de merde, I am not a stripper! That's a stripper," he said pointing to the lap dance happening across the way. "I'm a cop."

Jared "RIIIIIGHT I gotchu." He looked at the woman he didn't know and whispered "DOn't blow his cover that's not cool, mimes can't be seen talking." and then he clapped Kaden on the back. "Cop as well huh? Good with costumes?"

Blanche was cackling, laughing so hard that it actually hurt her and her injuries. Wheezing, she swatted Nell, giving Bea her own whoop. "Get it, Bea!!" she cackled, grabbing another flute of champagne. "We know this is your.... Fanta-sea."

Leah rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her new champagne. Of course Jasmine would want this dude at her birthday party. "I'll get his number from Nell", she teased. "That way you can just call him whenever you want. Bad day? Call the Sailor Stripper man, he'll make it all better!" Her eyes widened comically at Nell's joke. It felt more like a threat, to be honest. She wouldn't put it past the younger woman to actually pull something like that off. "Nell, Nell. ...Nell." She let out a breath, shaking her head no. "Nell... I think you know that if you even try that, you'll regret it." Would she ever do anything that might hurt Nell? Absolutely not, and Nell probably knew that, too. But it was worth the threat, if only to avoid the embarrassment and the mere suggestion of what Nell was threatening to do.

Morgan snorted again, some of her champagne flying up her nose. "Kaden, you didn't tell me you had a passion-project second job! You gotta follow your heart, and invest in all of the best props for your set list." She patted his shoulder, beaming, and got up from the table, taking Anita by the hand. "Y'all are swell, but Jacky Boy isn't our type. We'll come back around though!" She slid her arm through Anita's and escorted her around the room, aiming for the dance floor at a safe, respectful distance from Remmy, who seemed to be finally working things out with Luce. "How's that for a save?" She asked Anita.

Bow-tie thoroughly loosened, Felix shifted in his seat before he got up and went to Bea's side. His eyes went to Kaden for a moment. Not you too, his eyes said. "Wow, you sure know how to clear a deck, fella!" His smile was sharp as he looked at the stripper. "You know, I think there's someone else here who could really use the kinda good time you've provided us all with. Hey Nell!" He called over before he looked back to Jack. "That's the one. Promise you'll show her a decent time? She's great. Dynamite. Aces. She deserves it. It's been a tough month."

Jasmine joked, "Oh Bea, that's not fun." The French man was attractive enough he could pull off the looks, but he didn't look like much of a dancer. Still, she poked fun. "So, you do a cop strip show then." She could see Bea was getting a bit uncomfortable, so she sauntered over to that side of table and tapped Jack's soldier. "Hey, Sailor, I think your moves may be a bit more appreciated over here."

Luce 's head was spinning, the bright lights and decorations sparkling in the light. The sound of the band's music was almost enough to drown out the chaos of what was happening behind her, but she could still hear Blanche and Nell shouting words of encouragement at the male stripper, who was no doubt... doing his job. Remmy's hand rested on her hip and she blinked. "I don't know if she deserves that specifically. I definitely didn't pay for that guy." She said with a shake of her head. "Fucking Nell... I bet she hired him."

Jasmine grinned widely at Leah. "Please, do. One of the girls is having a bachelorette party soon and he'd be perfect!"

Jack looked over to Nell with a quick promising wink. He'd definitely be by her seat later. But he had to give the birthday girl his attention first. He turned on the spot, giving Bea a show of every single one of his muscles. She didn't seem as eager as the girl to his side, so when he leant in to ask a question, it was with his normal, quiet voice. "Do you want a dance or do you want me to take myself somewhere else?" But it seemed his question was answered by the others around. He flashed both the hot at the gills looking guy and the pretty lady who tapped his shoulder. "You got my sailor's oath!" He told Felix, and turned over to Nell. "You want me to swab your decks, miss?"

"I'm not stripping because I'm not a stripper!" Kaden started cursing under his breath. The kid, Anita, Morgan, Felix, and Bea, too? Come on. "Someone back me up here. Anyone! Come on, let's go back to taking my money, that'd be great, right?"

Bea glanced between both Felix and Jasmine,"Thank you." Standing, she grabbed Felix's hand,"Do you want to go dance?" She could use a little bit of time away from the chaos of the table, even as fun as it was. "Have fun, Nell!" She cackled as Jack made her way over.

Remmy gave a chuckle, shaking their head. "I meant a good time," they said, stepping in time to the music and moving Luce with them. It was a more upbeat tune, the music drifting around them, and Remmy spun her a little before pulling her back in. "You all deserve a good night to let loose and have--" they flinched at the sound of Blanche's loud shout cutting through even the loud music, giving Luce a sheepish grin, "--fun."

Blanche paled as the stripper turned on Nell. "Oh no. You're on your own." She started to inch away.

Anita followed Morgan out to the dance floor, grinning widely. This was far preferred to watching a man strip. “The absolute best save. You’re my hero,” she grinned widely as she began to dance with her friend. As they danced she noticed Luce dancing with some person she didn’t quite recognize. She smiled softly, they seemed nice together. Turning her attention back towards Morgan, she laughed as she could still hear the things people were saying by the stripper. “This party did not really go how I was expecting… but this does make me kinda wanna hire a stripper for my next birthday.”

“What?!" Nell squawked as the tables were turned, and suddenly there was a whole ocean of flesh coming closer. "Blanche, don't you dare fucking leave me. This is what you get for running away from the hospital!" she said as her friend tried to inch away, latching onto a non-injured portion of Blanche with a vice-like grip. "My decks are good, though! Freshly swabbed! Just got them done yesterday!"

Leah pushed herself closer to Jasmine as the stripper came closer to where they were sitting, all but turning her back to him and Nell with an amused but mortified look. In a supportive move, she grabbed Blanche's wrist and pulled her toward them as well, holding her close.

"We know, Kaden," Felix said with a solemn nod. "The champagne tower is all yours, friend. I know it's a real hard time for ya." He laced his fingers with Bea's and smiled as he led her towards the dance floor. "I don't know how I'll compare to our new pal Jack over there but I'll do my best for you, doll."

Jane had been stealing other guests money at a different table, and went to go see what the commotion was. Jane saw Jack, and snorted as she heard Kaden assuring everyone he wasn't a stripper. She clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on Kaden, everyone here knows you strip to ABBA."

"I don't want to think about my sister having a good time with that." Luce said automatically, shuddering. She let Remmy spin her around, her feet just a bit clumsy underneath her as they danced. The haze of the alcohol was settling in, everything golden and bright around them. Tilting her head, she looked at them, eyebrows arching. "Mm, you're not wrong. You know," She said, pausing for a moment before leaning in closer to Remmy, "I can think of a couple fun things we could do."

"Oh, I'll take your money for free, Kaden!" Morgan called over her shoulder, winking at him. "Is that a promise?" The music was picking up and she took her friend's hand, whirling her around as they came near the dance floor. "Anita, I will hire you only the best, most voluptuous strippers for your birthday. Name the date, and they're all yours." She spun them around again as the music picked up. "Also, fun fact about me no one here knows yet? I know how to do the charleston." She started to demonstrate, working more flare into it than usual. "If you take another drink, I'll even teach you too."

Jared had a lot of people backing up the knowledge that this kaden guy was a stripper. He was embarrassed but Jared pat him on the arm. "Don't worry bud, no one is judging. I'm sure you're a wonderful stripper."

Jasmine cackled as Nell tried to back away from the stripper. There had to be some sort of anecdote about not hiring a stripper if you're not down for a lap dance. "Good call, the kid definitely doesn't need a stripper." Leah was held on to the small girl even though Nell tried to keep her in the stripper's orbit. She wondered if this short blonde girl was even old enough to be here. "I'm guessing Nell's the one who hired our sailor friend here." Good taste, just not Bea's. She nearly spit out her champagne when it was mentioned Kaden stripped to ABBA. "Oh honey, we need to get you a better playlist."

As the world faded from view, and tsunami Jack took over the majority of Nell's line of sight, she raised a single middle finger across the room, pointed directly at Felix.

Remmy looked around the hall-- people laughing, people grinning, people just plain having fun, having the time of their lives-- and decided that not everything in the world was bad. In fact, there was a lot more good than bad. There had to be, right? Luce looked stunning, Bea looking like shew as having the time of her life now that she was on the dance floor, even Nell, though flustered, looked like she was having fun. And Blanche and Morgan and everyone else. Remmy spun Luce one more time before bringing her close, smiling warmly at her drunken words. "Maybe tomorrow," they said back to her softly, "once the alcohol has worn off."

Kaden turned to see Jane behind him. Of fucking course. "Fuck you, Wu." He was going to need something stronger than champagne soon. There was no living this down was there?

"I think you'll do just fine," Bea let out a little laugh. As she looked around the party, she felt warm. Just last week she had been kicked out of the community that had raised her and she had felt alone. Her family and friends were the people here, having fun and celebrating this day with her. "As ridiculous has this has turned out, this has been one of my best birthdays." Even without her parents or friends from the Coven, she was happy. All these people, even Jack, had helped her make this birthday perfect. She couldn't ask for better people to spend this day with.

[stephanieofrp]

Back in the old rp world there was this muse that straight up stole/kidnapped another muse's baby aenoiaf they refused to give it back but finally did and the admins literally had to make a post explaining why you can't just babynap a kid or to ask the muse beforehand. The muse who babynapped? Justin Bieber. He was everywhere.

WHAT THE FUCK. Yeah literally the FCs that have done the wildest shit have been Jasmine V, T*ylor Swift, & Justin Bieber.... They’re always doing fucking insane shit. One time I was in a RP where we literally had a chatzy that was a court date of a custody battle because the Taylor Swift FC had two kids but she was super unstable and did horrible things around her kid (I won’t say cuz like triggering) & her ex-bff (a Selena G FC) was trying to get custody of the kids & the Taylor FC’s mun was absolutely,,,,, insane & it was plotted that Selena would get the kids but then she tried to godmod the judge last minute & change the outcome & it was just.... wild... that’s not really something that “wouldn’t be allowed now” it’s just a wild story jasldkfjasdf

(tell me about something that’s happened in a past group that would never be allowed to happen in groups now )

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Ghost Busted || Morgan, Adam, Jasmine, Nell, &Constance

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @walker-journal @halequeenjas @nelllraiser @constancecunningham

SUMMARY: Morgan’s plan to bind Constance gets busted.

CONTAINS: gun use (salt rounds)

Binding a soul wasn’t much more complicated than binding anything else, as it turned out; not in terms of ingredients, at least. Morgan was able to gather the herbs on her own, mostly foraged, to save her pride at the Eye of Newt, but to adhere as closely to the spell instructions, she braved Vera’s judgmental looks for the last few things. Now it was time to take stock and go over the plan one last time before doing the binding. Morgan felt for the bottle in her bag. Still there. As far as she understood it, just about any vessel that could be marked with the right sigils would do, but using any of the tiny jars she had left from her crafting days made her feel uncomfortable. They seemed so small, keeping someone in there just seemed so...unsafe. And what if she could somehow see Constance staring at her through the glass? The thought made Morgan shudder too much, so she got a nice arcane looking, opaque, ceramic jar.

The day was bright, the kind you painted on a greeting card for fall. Morgan turned at the sound of footsteps, not certain how much she should smile, with Jasmine and Adam at least partially on the fence. But this was a net good for everyone. A bottled ghost was going to kill a lot less people and cause a lot less chaos than a free range one. After they did this, she could figure the rest out on her own if it came to it. Morgan offered a small wave. “Uh, hey?” she offered. “Did you...get everything you needed okay?”

Apparently, Nell was the first back from her little monster hunting excursion. In truth, she would have preferred to still be out gathering spell items for many reasons, but the primary one stemmed from the little guilt monster that was gnawing away at her stomach. Now that she’d talked about exorcising Constance at the first chance possible with both Jasmine and Adam, it was emotionally difficult to sit here and pretend as if everything were still going according to plan, sitting next to Morgan as if nothing had changed and she would still get her revenge. But it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. There’d been multiple occasions in which she’d had to make decisions that her friends wouldn’t like for the benefit of themselves and others. Still...that didn’t mean it got any easier. Nell could only hope that Morgan might be forgiving in the long run, and still want something to do with her at the end of the day. “Yeah, I got them,” she answered as she held up her trophies. “Are the others back, yet?” Taki, her Ovinikk familiar, hadn't been far behind- looking proud as anything while he carried a few grathered herbs between his teeth.

Nell kept her response short, not wanting to say much else when she was caught up in wondering whether or not her and Morgan’s friendship would make it to see the end of the week. “I’m just gonna look over the stuff again, too.” Then she gingerly plopped herself onto the ground next to a basket of herbs, muttering to herself about their quality and picking through them with a careful hand as a means of keeping herself busy, and hopefully safe from too much conversation.

Chickcharney feathers, a catalyst for the curse. The larynx of an Aravo to bind their voice. The pelt of an Aufhocker to weigh them down to earth. A heart burst by a Carach’s fractoxtin to remind them of heartbreak. The exoskeleton of a Dearoile, to echo their life’s pain. A bone from a Gashadokura slain a century ago, to rekindle memories of fleshly deprivation A Valravn skull medallion, a symbol of death as the inescapable devourer.

Adam entered and began to place these cheery trophies of several weeks hunting in their assigned places, thoughts heavy with the twisted moral balance of what was about to transpire.

There had been no doubt in her mind that Jasmine was doing what was necessary. Whatever grudge Morgan had against this ghost mattered very little in the big scheme of things. Her ingredients had been more or less easy to gather. A mix of herbs and different salts. She was never without iron flakes and rods either. Once she had made it back to their meeting spot, she mentally began envisioning where she could lay out a salt circle. It wasn’t entirely necessary for a typical banishment, but it made things easier. Even if she had any intention of playing along with this whole binding the ghost until Morgan found a way to torture her, she’d be taking these same precautions. It all lined up with what they were doing here, just instead of Nell doing the binding, she’s simply banish Constance. Whether or not she deserved worse would be up to whatever cosmic power she faced after being thrown out of this plane. “It sounds like we’re ready then,” she said as she contemplated laying out a circle. She turned to Nell with a knowing look in her eye, “So, when are we doing this? Did we want to go ahead and knock this out before anyone else is hurt?

Constance didn’t feel at home in the manor. The walls reminded her too much of the ones she had dusted and cleaned for the Bachmans, and the environment was so unmoving save for spare objects that were fiddled with and tossed by spirits. Constance preferred to take them out to the woods where the oaks grew tall and remembered everything, even her. Or to the lake, veiled in mist and shining waters. “And did you know!” She cried, turning to Nancy trailing behind her in strange garb that had come into fashion after her death. “I taught her everything she knew about magic. Her mother was a beastly woman with no talent in her right fingernail, doing charms I had managed practically with my intuition. I gave Agnes the keys to the kingdom of the gods, which makes me the reason that tiny, ugly cow Morgan could tap into any of her magic at all. But, oh! The raptures we would find in these woods. They weren’t half so thick, and we felt so fearless and bold hiding here and--”

The sound of other voices made her stop and drift up into the trees. She had gotten better at this now, having so many ghosts to practice with and help her along. Most of the faces were familiar. Morgan, of course, tramping her muddy boots through her woods. The girl from the summoning. The boy from the classroom. And then some other woman, but if she was in league with the others, then she couldn’t be any more trustworthy. She hovered in the soggy gold and red of autumn leaves still hanging on, knowing that Morgan could see her always. There were strange things being passed, salt, herbs, some runes she recognized, and a jar.

“Those cruel, treasonous fiends,” Constance hissed. Did Blanche know about this? Was she just biding her time, placating Constance until this very moment, when she might be trapped forever? Or until such time as a suitable punishment could be given? As if being stripped of her liberty, of everything but her consciousness wasn’t punishment enough. “Nancy,” Constance whispered. “You said we could play a game today, right?”

Morgan wrapped Nell into a quick hug. “Thanks, Nell,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” She nodded to the others, smiling tensely. They weren’t thrilled to be here, that much was obvious, and she wasn’t sure if any kind of thanks would smack with passive aggression she didn’t intend. “It looks like we’re gonna be all set, and the town is going to get a lot safer once we’re done and she’s all tucked a-- fuck. Nell, get down!”

Morgan grabbed the young witch and shielded her with her body as she saw Constance come soaring out of the trees. And this time, she wasn’t alone. Her iron rod was at her hip, she could give her a good whack or two and be done, but she couldn’t leave Nell vulnerable, and there was Adam and Jasmine to consider. “Okay, uh--new plan!” She screeched. “We get some salt lines down and nobody dies today, how about that?”

With the waking nightmares gone, the ghosts had also returned to their normal state of invisible. As it were Nell would have had not a single clue that Constance or Nancy had appeared if it weren’t for Morgan and Taki. Blindly following Morgan’s command, she ducked— hoping that whatever she was dodging might simply fly over her. It took a moment for Nell to make the connection between salt and spirit, and then she could only assume that it was Constance who had come for them. “Is it her? Constance?” she asked both Jasmine and Morgan. Taki’s fur had bristled into an enormous ball of fluff the moment the ghosts had appeared, hissing and spitting in disgust as the spirits approached. Remembering that last time Taki had met Constance at the ghost’s summoning and how it had ended with the familiar in the pet hospital, Nell instinctively picked up the dog-sized cat. Shit- they needed salt like Morgan had said. Focusing her magic for a split second, Nell Summoned the table salt from home, a blue canister blinking into existence in her hand. Then another appeared in her other palm, and Nell silently thanked Bea for sometimes buying in bulk. “Here!” she called before tossing the salt container to Adam. Hastily, she began to draw her salt circle, first using it to encompass the spell ingredients. Losing them would be too much of a set back to risk.

In another town, if people just started freaking out for no visible reason and tossed him salt, Adam might have questions, concerns even. However Adam was becoming accustomed to weird improv game that invisible spookums entailed that he just caught the salt contained and got to work putting circles around the important stuff.  

This was all happening more quickly than Jasmine could have anticipated. As a familiar chill ran over her, she felt her whole body tense. No, not now. Not while Nell was here and she didn’t even have a proper circle yet on the ground. This was less than ideal, but she could make do without the circle if it was just a simple banishment. Minimal distractions would be needed so she had to trust Nell and Adam could hold down the fort if Morgan threw a fit about what she had to do. Once she actually caught a glimpse of the ghost, her mouth dropped. Even if she never planned on going through with the torture, it was still shocking that she wanted to torture an actual kid. “Seriously,” she shot a glare at Morgan, “How old is this ghost? Sixteen? You want to torture a teenager?”

She shook her head and didn’t need any further motivation to push forward with the exorcism as planned. It hardly mattered to her whether or not Morgan approved of the decision. “Nell, stay back and keep everyone away,” she directed as she took her place in the room. A haphazard salt circle was laid out on the floor and she stood directly outside as she began the familiar incantation she followed for banishment rituals. The air was whipping around them, but she knew she could do this. It was only a banishment, she just needed Morgan to stay away. She could feel the familiar bolt of energy going through her as she spoke the words. Her eyes remained on Constance who was getting pulled closer toward the circle as she chanted. She could feel the fight in her, but this was the kindest outcome for her.

“Fucking Stars, she’s nineteen and a few centuries! How is that important right now!” Morgan screamed. She wasn’t going to make Constance into Jasmine’s problem. She would find her own exorcist, and maybe a plan B or C just in case they crapped out on her. Morgan was pulling Nell back to the Subaru. She was trying to shield her with her body and fish out her salt at the same time. “Salt outside the car and get inside, okay?” She turned to Adam, pointing furiously at the car, “Stuff is replaceable, you are no--!” She didn’t quite finish, because the roar in the air grew quiet and she heard Jasmine--chanting? Morgan whirled. “What are you doing? That’s not the binding, what the hell is that?”

A burst of force knocked her to the ground and dragged her through the salted earth until her head collided with a tree. It happened so fast, Morgan’s vision blurred. She grimaced, reaching for the salt pistol clumsily to her belt when she looked up and saw… some 1950’s barbie with a snapped neck. “Who the fuck are you?”

Constance screamed to the heavens. At last her body held some gravity, but it wasn’t binding her to the earth. She was being dragged towards a circle. She didn’t need to see its sigils to know it would mean her end. “Nancy!” She screamed. The leaves rose from the ground at her cry, the trees trembled. Control. A strong spirit was like a strong witch; she needed control.

All the herbs and magic playthings Morgan’s brood had gathered froze in the air, and with them, the two bodies not protected by Blanche Harlow’s words. She did not see Nancy lift her concentration, much stronger and better practiced than her own, to do likewise, nor how she approached the circle to take her place. There was an evil scream from Morgan, then the world shattered and bodies flew.

As Morgan tugged her towards the car, Nell did her best to wrestle from her grip, not keen in the least to let Jasmine and Morgan take the brunt of whatever it was the ghosts had come to accomplish. “I’m not gonna hide in the car!” she refused, though her indignance was also cut short as the exorcist began her ritual. Would Morgan retaliate? Try to stop Jasmine from doing her job? The witch wouldn’t get an answer as an invisible force threw her backwards along with the others. She landed roughly, arms scraped open by the assorted twigs and rocks of the forest floor when she’d tried to catch herself in a roll, trying to shield Taki from ricocheting off the ground as well. It was then that she officially decided that fighting ghosts was the single worst thing in the world and all its realms to go up against. How was she supposed to stab something she couldn’t see? She couldn’t even stab them to begin with. With a frustrated growl she rose from where she’d landed, wincing as her body protested the movement. The Ovinikk leapt from her arms, making a beeline towards the ghost named Nancy before erupting in an angry and thunderous dog’s bark, doing his best to ward off the spirit. Following his line of sight, Nell plucked the salt canister from where it had landed before blindly tossing its contents in the direction of the familiar’s barks, hoping it might miraculously find a hit.

Not for the first time, Adam found himself sprinting as things he couldn’t see turned his surroundings into an obstacle course. Autumn leaves were a dry whirlwind of red and gold as uncontrolled telekinesis and the sacred energies of exorcism caught everything in spiritual turbulence. Bowls and canisters shattered, sending shrapnel of glass and pottery zipping through the supernatural gale. The contradictory smells of pungent herbs and the frigid sterility of fall wind filled Adam’s nostrils as he booked it towards where the cars were parked, trying to not get pulverized as he ran across the grove.

Trying to pry off the windborn leaves that kept getting plastered against his eyes and mouth, Adam knelt by the closest car and started slating a circle around it. Adam’s world spun a bit as a stray herb bowl hurled from out of ritual space and shattered against the back of his neck. The ex-Hunter blinked flaring white spots from his vision and ignored the trickle of hot warmth down the back of his back.

His eyes cleared enough to see Morgan get flung against the tree with a blunt cracking sound.

Shit...well um, least she was already dead right?

Then Morgan started asking more nonexistent people who they were.

...that’s not good

How quickly things could spiral out of control wasn’t entirely new to Jasmine though it was different when it was just her and a ghost. Knowing how close Nell and this Adam kid were only steeled her sense of determination. The kids weren’t getting hurt on her watch even if it meant having to go up against two ghosts on her own. She laid more salt down and kept her eyes firmly between Constance and Nancy as she yelled out, “Nell, Adam. Car now. Morgan, not now. I keep the ghosts from killing us and you get the kids out of here.” There wasn’t time for Morgan to fight her on this. Constance was undeniably strong and her friend seemed to have been practiced, too. It was inconveniently her friend that was now bound to the circle as the air whipped around them at an impossible speed. Jasmine dug her heels in the dirt to try and stabilize herself against the whirlwind happening around her, but found she found herself floating in the air alongside Morgan and all the items they’d gathered.

The howls of air swirling were hard to shout over especially with no stable ground beneath her feet and Constance’s shriek still ringing in her ears. She had to keep pushing if any of them were going to make it out of this. Nancy was bound to the circle and it didn’t seem like Constance was going to join anytime soon. They couldn’t fight off both of them and Jasmine felt the fear creep up on her. Making the hair on her arms stand on end and added to the dizziness she was feeling from above the ground. Her words weren’t steady as she was whipped around, but not a syllable was missed. Right now, getting rid of one ghost would have to do as she kept going with the banishment ritual she knew like the back of her hand.

After what felt like an eternity, her chants drew to a close and Nancy simply disappeared forever. It’s what she wanted to do with Constance, but she already felt entirely too drained to perform another banishment. The floating in the air only furthered the feeling of unsteadiness, until she was no longer in the air. It was all very sudden after Nancy was gone that she found herself being thrown into the tree. The crack of bone against wood was enough to make her nauseated and she let out a pained shout as pain shot through her left arm. “Bitch,” she screamed knowing she had little else to stand on and her iron rod was too far away for her to grab in her condition.

Constance saw it all and yet was powerless to do a thing. The gravity on her body ebbed, all the energy she’d been pouring into fleeing sprang back and she shot into the trees, watching from the branches as Nancy disappeared without so much as an ‘I’m sorry.’ A thought came to her as lightning: this cruel departure had always been Nancy’s plan. If not to use her as a bridge off this miserable world so she need not bear pretending to care, then to grant Constance more time. Either way, she was utterly abandoned. Was this the so-called pleasure of lifting her gaze to anything beyond her one wish?

“You monster!” She screamed, flinging herself back down to the ground. She reached for the woman’s bent arm, as if she could will herself solid and snap it like so many twigs. The trees screamed with her as she wailed. To think she had ever considered Morgan’s friends worth sparing, that to be direct and careful was the only and best way to fulfill the fate she had written. Not anymore, maybe not ever. Constance wanted to burn it all, and for their remorse to be written on every human face as too little, too late.

Bang. A salt round fired through Constance and exploded into the trunk of a tree. The ghost turned just in time to see who had done it. Her mouth opened to scream just as she dissipated. Morgan stood crooked and seething as her spine knit itself back together. Her pistol dangled lip in her fingers. “You’re welcome,” she growled. “Now please explain to me what the hell was going on with that. You could have just taken her with iron, with literally anything else…” The last of her vertebrae snapped into place and she was able to look around. The herbs, irrevocable. Jar, smashed. Hides and fluids, destroyed. If Constance was going to be bound out of trouble, they would need to start from scratch. But there was something else that nagged at her worse. For a moment that had gone so completely off the rails, there was a serious lack of surprise and confusion among her friends. A lot of the attention was on her, and it didn’t seem like the ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘we’ll try again’ variety. “What’s going on…?”

Once the winds had returned to normal, and Morgan stopped shooting at thin air, Nell presumed the coast was clear. Crouching next to Jasmine, she took in the awkward angle the exorcist’s arm had been broken into, grimacing in sympathetic pain. “We gotta get you to the hospital.” Then as an afterthought— “You have insurance, right?” She wasn’t about to willingly lead someone else to thousands of dollars in debt. Jasmine’s injury had sparked the fire of worry in Nell’s belly, but Morgan’s question ignited it into a full blown flame, guilt beginning to pool. “I agreed...that Constance should be gotten rid of if the moment presented itself.” She was used to taking the fall with her sisters, so it came naturally to try and focus the blame on herself in this situation as well. Besides, it only felt right when she’d essentially betrayed the trust of her friend. It was true that Nell had never promised against exorcising Constance, but she’d also agreed to helping Morgan do it her way, and the two paths weren’t all that conducive. “I’m sorry,” she replied reflexively, not knowing what else to say.

It was becoming increasingly more apparent to Jasmine that Morgan hardly had her priorities straight. She was injured and others had been put in danger’s way yet her biggest worry was the fact she tried to get rid of said dangerous ghost without torturing her. Not to mention the ghost was practically a child. None of it sat well with her and she found anger boiling over in her. “What do you mean what the hell was I doing? In case you didn’t notice, we had a ghostly tag team try to kill us? Or did you not notice my extremely broken arm here… which, hey, kind of your fault for not wanting to handle this in an even remotely responsible way. A cast is going to clash with literally my entire wardrobe,” she huffed out as she tried to gesture to her broken arm but failed as she winced in pain. She shot Nell a look, “Nell, you don’t have to take the blame for this. I would have tried to get rid of the murderous ghost with or without your approval. That’s literally why I have these powers to begin with.” She quickly looked back to Morgan and rolled her eyes, “Look, I get you’re pissed and have your whole torture revenge thing, but your feelings aren’t more important than people’s lives. Which should be glaringly obvious.”

“I dissipated Constance in two seconds and I could’ve done the same with vintage Barbie too! We could have finished this just fine!” Morgan snapped. “And if you didn’t notice, I was protecting the kids while you were busy doing some kind of banishment instead of walking them into thin air!” But there was something more, something worse, and it made Morgan deflate and back away from them all. What did Nell mean by ‘agreed’ to do something in the ‘moment.’ Morgan played back all of their last conversations, searching for the time when Nell had said, sorry Morgan, but no, I think this is bullshit. She’d posed some questions, she was afraid of there being more collateral damage than there needed to be, but she never said she didn’t want to. She’d said she would help Morgan. They’d talked about what was happening to her powers. Hot chocolate. Movies. Her mom. Everything but stepping out of this. “If we had just stuck to the plan, no one else would have gotten hurt,” she said, her voice trembling with shock. “Which apparently doesn’t matter to either of you, but don’t throw your choices on me like I don’t give a shit.”  She searched for Adam in the midst of them. “What about you? After all the times I said you didn’t need to do anything you didn’t want to. Was this your idea too?”

“Nope,” Adam stated with blunt honesty as he stepped out of the salt circle and walked to the back of his car. He popped the trunk up with a click and the footballer’s head vanished into the cargo space. Some clicking and unlatching sounds were followed by Adam remerging with a tan military medic’s kit slung over one shoulder.

Adam crossed the rubble-strewn ritual space, tennis shoes crunching on pottery shards and autumnal leaves. He took a knee by the ladies and unzipped the tactical med kit with the purposeful calm of someone used to tending to grizzly battlefield wounds.

He produced a tincture of watery translucent goo with the depiction of a grotesque goblinoid creature with a distended barracuda-like jaw and bone claws on the label. “You’ll want some of this for the pain,” Adam said to his companions offering them the anesthetic tincture of reified Rawhead salvia and a stopper. “Only a drop or two though, else you’ll get muscle paralysis and shit yourself,” he explained with that gentle bedside manner Hunters were famous for.

Adam furthered purposed a splint and bandages for Jasmine, along with the more sutures, gauze, and antibacterials for everyone’s general lacerations.

“Honestly Beck, I was just gonna stab you in the spine and hold Miss Hale at gunpoint till she exorcised Ginger Casper normally,” Adam admitted, speaking of assault and threats in an amiably conversational tone. “But it looks like they’d worked out something smarter than that already.”

Jasmine could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin despite the lightheadedness she was feeling. Between blood loss and banishing Nancy, she found herself pretty zapped in the blood sugar department. As much didn’t stop her from glaring at Morgan, “I told Nell to go to safety so there was no chance for either of them to hurt anyone ever again.” Her voice was getting weaker, but fire was pushing her nonetheless. “You’re going to end up just like them on your whole revenge path.”

She eyed Adam as he tried to give her something for the pain. Her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Uhm, what the hell is that?” The mention of shitting herself was enough to make her wary of it, but if he was going to insist on patching her up she figured she better use it. It only served to make her more woozy as he went on and everything felt like it was spinning.

It was difficult to brace herself even with the numbness though Adam’s genius plan was enough to make her eyes widen. “Excuse me?” This kid was going to force her to perform an exorcism at gunpoint? “You were going to what?” She moved away as he had already placed the splint and muttered, “Ugh, you know what. Not a priority. Do you have a driver’s license? I’d like to see a real doctor and I can’t exactly drive like this.”

The entire situation had quickly dissolved into a shit show, and Nell wasn’t sure where to begin with Jasmine and Morgan. The witch didn’t have a defense for the choices she’d made other than the fact that she hadn’t wanted more unneeded innocent blood being shed on the path to ending Constance. And though Adam was doing his best to patch up what he could, it seemed that Jasmine wasn’t all that fond of possibly being made to complete an exorcism at gunpoint. Which was...fair enough. Nell wasn’t a mediator. She was better at creating tense situations than resolving them- especially when there was no common enemy to point anyone towards. The only way she knew out of a situation like this was to focus on an end task, and try to get the others to do that as well. “Let’s just get Jasmine more medical care,” she repeated, assuming the exorcist had already remembered that Nell didn’t have a car license. Latching onto the woman’s uninjured arm, she began to try and guide her towards Adam’s car.

The choice of whether or not to look at Morgan was one that took Nell a long pause to make, trying to decide if she wanted to see the hurt and disappointment that she was sure to find there. This was why she’d done her best to avoid the woman ever since she’d made her decision to get rid of Constance by whatever means were fastest. Ripping off the bandaid hurt less if the wound beneath it already had the chance to scab over. Finally she found Morgan’s eyes, knowing it was the coward’s choice not to face the consequences of her actions. But now what? What could she possibly say that would do any good to either of them? She wasn’t sorry for trying to get rid of Constance, even now. It was the right thing to do— minimizing collateral damage. The only regret she has was that of hurting her friend. “We should go,” was all she could settle on.

Adam’s hidden plan wasn’t all that surprising to Morgan, given his ‘barbed wire in a backpack’ ways and how quick he’d been to share his distaste with Constance’s age. It would be awkward in class, if the full moon didn’t kill him first, but it was nothing she couldn’t brace herself for. Jasmine’s cunning had tripped her up; most of the dutiful types she’d met in White Crest didn’t encumber themselves with lying to your face, but she’d remember not to let the exorcist’s confidence fool her into thinking that what she saw was what she got. It was Nell that left Morgan dumbfounded, staring slack-jawed and stupid as she helped carry Jasmine to Adam’s car, so focused that Morgan may as well have been a ghost herself. “Wow,” she said, too stunned to even put much venom behind her voice. “Not even an explanation, huh?” Morgan’s eyes burned as she spoke and she wished, bitterly, for even an ounce of banshee control so she could just stay hard and steady and leave. But her face was trembling on the verge of collapse, her voice full and ready to crack on the next breath. “I trusted you. I gave you a choice, so many choices, Nell, and I trusted you…” She hadn’t deluded herself into thinking she was nearly as important to Nell as Nell was to her. Nell had a family, a community that had seen her grow, friends her own age. It was an imbalance Morgan could live with, to feel like she had a family of her own. But she hadn’t reckoned on being worth so little that Nell could turn her back on her with ease, that she would be left alone in the underbrush as the sun cut red over the trees.  It took all the self control Morgan had to turn her back on Nell in kind and get back to her Subaru. “So much for that.”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Drop Dead Goregous || Morgan & Jasmine

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Downtown

PARTIES: @halequeenjas & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan’s shopping trip gets interrupted by a ghostly visitor, but not the one she expects.

Morgan was shaken by what she’d seen lately. After almost five months dead, she would’ve thought she’d earned some kind of credit against death bullshit, especially ghost bullshit, considering how she’d died. But it never stopped. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, her hundred year old bullshit came up to rip the floor out from under her and she was left to catch her own fall. Letting out another breath she didn’t need, Morgan shuffled around the boutique she was visiting. Fall was coming, and she wanted to give herself a wardrobe upgrade to match her new reputation and her new self. Bye-bye cutesly floral kimonos, at least for now. She picked through the selections, holding up one muted dress after another before she went back to a rack of black dresses and loose sweaters. As she did, she spotted a familiar face nearby, and a sad, scruffy looking ghost-man hovering behind her, way, way too close for politeness. He had a face that insisted it knew more than you and would be happy to explain how in a twelve slide power point or over beers at a local micro-brewery.

Morgan tried to catch the guy’s attention subtly with her eyes, a good ‘I see you, jerkface’ staredown. But aiming for a little eye contact wasn’t doing much. She took one of the dresses she liked and headed for another rack, ready to swing her hanger through him as a warning shot. “Leave her alone, asshat,” she hissed. “Find somewhere else to haunt.” The hanger bopped against his side, the clips on the dress rattled. He was...solid?

After performing an exorcism for a client earlier, Jasmine was worn down and decided a little retail therapy would perk her right back up. At least the person who was possessed was rich so the paycheck was hefty. No reason to not treat herself to a new dress or five. She’d been idly thumbing through a rack of maroon and burnt orange sweater dresses that’d be perfect for the fall, when she heard someone behind her very quietly whisper the word haunt. How had she missed there was a ghost here? She whipped around, instinctively going for the iron rod in her oversized purse. She recognized the other woman, who could clearly also see ghosts, was whacking Larry Bob with a hanger that didn’t go through him. Her breath hitched in her throat as she hoarsely grumbled, “Damn it, Larry.” His eyes were on her iron rod and he was backing away from her slowly. She swung and he just dodged her leaving a slight whooshing sound in the air. Another whack and this time it stung. He was more quick to move now though he seemed disoriented by not being able to phase through walls. This still meant nothing good. “Here,” she said as she tossed a bag of salt at Morgan,“If he comes toward you throw some of that on him.”

The last thing Morgan had expected was for the woman to know she was being haunted in the first place, much less to have something on hand for keeping him back. Was this survival coping in action or were they somehow...friendly? From the way she swore, probably not. But still--what? Morgan was so befuddled she almost dropped the travel size salt bag. She stammered unintelligibly before throwing a small sprinkle of salt Larry’s way. Yep, just as effective as the iron. But it also happened to bounce off him, not through him. “I’m sorry, but you-- you know he’s there? And what he is?” This much was obvious, but she was still trying to process. “Are you...okay? I mean, you seem okay. Very okay, more than, even, it’s just uh, most people wouldn’t with that guy hanging over their shoulder all stalker-like.” From the looks of the woman, she was one of the more okay looking people Morgan had ever met, and familiar too, though she couldn’t match her face in her head yet. And in her uncertainty, she blabbered on until she ran out of breath. “I just thought, well, maybe you didn’t know! So I’d try...something. To help you, I mean. But you do know! So… sorry, I’m Morgan and definitely not this weird all the time. Have we met before maybe? I would love to have made a better first impression on you some other time.”

It was good that the other woman was quick to throw the dash of salt she’d been given as it caused some recoil from Larry Bob. Jasmine gave the woman an approving nod before she lunged forward with her iron rod and whacked Larry on the head with the iron rod. The kickback of it not going through him made her stumble backward slightly, but he seemed about done with trying to attack him. A nice dose of salt and iron usually made him fuck off for a little while. Her hair was now disheveled as she turned back to Morgan. Normally, she would have not advertised she could see ghosts, but it was clear this was an ability they shared. She let out a dramatic sigh as she responded, “Yeah, he’s a ghost… a poltergeist more specifically. Which I know because I can see ghosts and obviously so can you.” This woman was definitely a little spazzy and caught off guard by the fact Jasmine knew what she was doing. Admittedly, she knew she didn’t look like she could hold her own in a fight, but to be fair, neither did the pint-sized woman who was originally wielding a hanger. “That’s a logical thing to think. Most people don’t know. I just happen to be an exorcist with a poltergeist because a certain someone doesn’t realize trying to make my life hell doesn’t make his sad excuse of a life any more impressive.” The last part she said pointedly even though Larry had faded away. At the mention of hoping she made a better first impression, Jasmine piped in, “We have met. At Bea’s party. Your first impression was good, not that this one was like bad or anything either. I mean, you tried to fight a ghost for me.”

“A POLTER--” Morgan covered her mouth before she drew the attention of the whole store. The young woman, Jasmine, she remembered now, was being remarkably chill about this, and if she wasn’t freaking out about her poltergeist stalker then why was Morgan having a fit about it in public? Sure, she’d been killed by a ghost before, but Larry over there didn’t look murderous so much as just...douchey. But as Jasmine went on, more pieces started to fall together. Morgan had to admit, she didn’t realize exorcists could look like Jasmine: indulgently polished, young, flippantly bold. But then she’d only really met Rebecca before, so who was she to be surprised? “That’s pretty impressive,” she said, gathering herself. “I wish I’d known when we first met, but I guess I should know by now that any friend of Bea’s is bound to be spooky or magical somehow. You’re Jasmine, right? You must’ve been at this awhile to be so chill about a tag-along like...Larry. And I...guess I did try to fight thim, huh? I’m kind of um…” She struggled to find a polite euphemism for what she was, ultimately settling on, “Dead. Almost five months now as it happens. So there’s not much they can really do to get to me.”

Thankfully, Morgan covered her own mouth before Jasmine had to. The last thing she needed was someone hearing them and thinking she was crazy. Especially not the shop owner. This was the best place in town to find high end business professional clothing. “Yes,” she said in a hushed tone, “A poltergeist. Which I know is bad. Like really bad and I’m working on it.” While she couldn’t say Morgan was wrong, she knew she was impressive for a multitude of reasons, she was still more curious about how Morgan could see the ghost and how he somehow became solid. The solid part was arguably more concerning, but hey, it was a little more satisfying to hit him and have it land for real. “That’s me. It’s Morgan, right? I guess I have been. My aunt taught me how to do exorcisms when I was around 19. Plus, pretty used to this particular ghost. Trying to get rid of him, but turns out he may be a two woman job,” she explained. As Morgan explained why she could see ghosts, Jasmine’s jaw quite literally dropped. Dead? Sure, she was pasty, but she just chalked that up to needing a good dose of Vitamin D. The only dead person she’d known was dead prior to this had just been Bea. “Huh,” she mused out loud, “I didn’t realize that was a thing, but hey, for being dead you sure are pretty. Good nothing to get to you though.” In a more hushed tone she asked, “So like are you a vampire or something? I don’t really know much outside of ghosts.”

Morgan was relieved more than anything to see Jasmine at least a little concerned about the polter. Although the idea that they took a long time to ‘work on’ was kind of distressing, given the state of her own personal demon girl. “Are those..um…?” Morgan squeaked. “Do they usually take...a lot of working on? Is that a thing?” She looked over her shoulder uncertainly at where Larry had just been. Maybe this wasn’t really the time. They were in public, after all. She smirked at Jasmine’s compliment and tossed her hair back, smirking, only a little shrill as her unease rolled off and away from her. “What can I say, it’s hard to keep a good girl down.” She smiled warmly at the question, appreciating the tact and concern. “You’re close, but I like brains better than blood,” she said. “It’s not as bad as the movies make it out to be. I mean, the Dawn of the Dead never looked this cute, right? Oh, and before you ask, it’s only been five months. I’m not like, a hundred or anything. But I will look just this good when I am, apparently.”

Jasmine frowned slightly at the question mostly because she hated the answer. Normally, poltergeists were easy enough to remove with an exorcism. Sure, performing an exorcism was physically exhausting and sometimes she ended up with some cuts along the way, but prior to Larry Bob they had always ended with there no longer being a ghost. “No, she answered with a hint of an edge in her voice, “He’s the only poltergeist I’ve had a particularly difficult time getting rid of.” Thankfully, Tiffany seemed to be too preoccupied with her phone to bother paying attention to what was going on around the shop. No one paying attention to them or what happened with Larry Bob was a good thing and meant her reputation was still intact. She hated online shopping and didn’t want to have to drive too far out of town to get nice clothes. Her face brightened as Morgan joked and she laughed in response. “Does that mean you have brains and beauty?” It was easier to joke than to acknowledge that she was a bit alarmed. Bea being back from the dead had thrown her for enough of a loop. Ghosts were one thing, but weren’t zombies and vampires supposed to be all grr? That was a bit out of her wheelhouse though she trusted any friend of Bea’s wasn’t going to hurt her. “Dawn of the Dead’s got nothing on you, that’s for damn sure. That’s a pretty big change, but hey, you’ve got eternal hotness going for you, so congratulations to you on that one.” She wasn’t sure if being new to the whole zombie thing was more or less comforting. She blurted out, “So… brains, huh?”

“Oh!” Morgan’s voice came out as a bright pop and she wasn’t sure whether to feel guilty about it or not. She didn’t care about whether Constance was a poltergeist or not, she just wanted her to leave and suffer. But she also wanted her friends to get out of this unscathed. No more hospitals, no more tears, no more hurt, no more staring at death through the eyes of an angry, pimpled face. It was good to know that if Constance snapped, she would still be easy to crush. “I was just curious,” she added, a little awkwardly. “I have a uh, not quite polter problem too, and I was just, you know, wondering. For obvious reasons. Not really into the ‘collateral damage’ scene. Been there, done that!” She laughed, but it came out a little hollow and shrill. Nell and Taki had been hurt because of Constance. Deirdre had been hurt because of Constance. Blanche had been hurt tracking her down. If Constance decided that she needed to go after anyone besides Deirdre-- Morgan didn’t want to think about it. She had enough reasons to take the ghost apart piece by piece. It was much, much nicer talking about how attractive they both were, and so much easier for making friends. At least Jasmine knew how to take care of herself around a spirit. Morgan wouldn’t be endangering her too much if they hit it off.

“Thank you! It is really nice looking this great without embalming, even with the brains and all. That part’s super real, but a little snack of preserved eyeballs and organs? Also good. I’m just kinda sad I’m never gonna know if I looked hot with gray hairs, you know? But you are kind of extraordinary to look at, if that’s not too weird to say. I’m, you know, I have a girlfriend. But like, that manicure! It’s gorgeous. I’m always so worried my hands are gonna freak people out if they have to touch them.” As she said this, she realized her hand was already held out to shake and--yikes. Too much. Morgan pulled her hand away, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, for crashing your shopping trip. If you’re anything like the other exorcists I’ve known, you definitely deserve some TLC. Um, that dress really does look pretty, by the way. I hope you get it.”

At the mention of having some degree of a ghost problem, Jasmine straightened up a little bit. To a degree, she hated all of this. Exorcisms were draining. Seeing dead people got exhausting. None of it was quite how she used to envision her life, but she couldn’t just sit here with these powers and ignore her calling. What she knew for sure was that she definitely deserved the new pair of shoes she was getting to go with her new dress. “A not quite polter problem,” she said slowly just to make sure she heard right, “Is this something you’d let me check out? This ghost may not want to show their face to an exorcist, but I do know a few spellcasters who could probably summon them.” To lighten the mood a bit, she added, “Since you’re a friend of Bea’s, I’ll even give you a friends and family discount.” At least not quite a poltergeist could mean slightly less complex. It still left an uneasy feeling within her that she opted to ignore for the time being until Morgan opted to give her more information.

This part of the conversation was easier and involved a lot less potential danger. Morgan didn’t seem like she was jonesing for her brains though the thought did cross her mind. Jasmine lit up a bit and added, “Well, you’re definitely the prettiest dead girl I’ve ever seen… and trust me, I’ve seen a lot. Also, eh, I’ll let you keep those snacks to yourself. Not really up my alley personally, but like, different nutritional needs I’m sure.” Eyeballs and brains still had a major ick factor though. God, when she died, she just wanted to stay dead and hopefully that would be a very long time from now. That thought quickly faded as Morgan began complimenting her. With a flip of her hair, she responded, “You know, hair dye does exist, but thank you. I can’t help but agree with you.” She looked down to the dress. “You think so,” she asked, “Red is usually more my color but this shade of burnt orange is perfect for fall.” She laughed a bit, “Don’t worry, didn’t think you were trying to hit on me. I could totally do your nails though. My dad grounded me for like six months my junior year of high school, so I got pretty good at doing them myself. Trust me, it takes a lot more than cold hands to freak me out.” An uncertainty she felt about the whole zombie thing was quickly fading. Morgan was fun and seemingly sweet. Once they got rid of her ghost, it’d be all good times.

Morgan waved away Jasmine’s concern, covering her uneasy laugh with a smile. “I’m getting it figured out, no worries. It’s not like she follows me around all the time.” Just some spontaneous attempted murder. Just girl stuff. “But, you know, anything goes south and you’ll be my first call.” So far, exorcisms ‘to the pain’ were a little hard to come by, and there wasn’t much of a roadmap for finding the worst of the worst either. As plausible as it seemed that Jasmine would have some idea, she couldn’t risk her going out and getting rid of Constance the easy way behind her back. They’d only just met, Jasmine had no reason to trust her sob story. Maybe later, when Morgan wasn’t just some rando to her, she’d explain it better. “‘Sides, maybe by then we’ll be friends too, no middle gal, however truly exceptional she might be.” Morgan smiled with relief as Jasmine took everything in stride. “I am no stranger to red,” she said, gesturing down to her own tunic cardigan, slumping artfully off one shoulder. “But orange is just so… I mean it just screams October and pumpkin spice, right?” Her smile widened as she went on. “That would be amazing! You know, I’ve never gotten the knack of doing my own nails, I don’t know if it’s a left handed thing or what, but it never comes out right. And come to think of it, I’m sure you have lots of stories, especially if you’ve been in town your whole life. Um, whenever you’re free, we should--I don’t know, do nails. Or hair. Something nice in all this White Crest--” she waved her fingers vaguely, “Nonsense. And we can bring salt! It might be nice to get to know one another without ghostly plus ones, right?”

Jasmine tilted her head not quite believing that statement, but she had to trust Morgan would come to her if things got too heated. It wasn’t as if she could go out looking for this ghost with so little information. “Good, please do keep me posted if anything escalates. The longer she sticks around, the worse she’ll get,” she explained and hoped the situation was given the proper attention. Since really learning about her powers and what she was capable of, she felt a sense of duty to keep people safe from bad ghosts. Jasmine doubted she was the only exorcist in town. As long as it was being handled, that was what mattered, so she laughed and agreed, “You know, I think we can work on that. Being friends without the stunning middle woman.” As Morgan gestured at her tunic, Jas added, “Which I do love on you, really brings out your eyes, but you’re right. It’s pumpkin spice season, why not dress like what everyone is craving… well, you know besides me.” The last part came off almost joking, but she definitely believed it to be true. She was funny, gorgeous, wealthy, and happened to save people from ghosts on the side. What was there not to love? “I’m getting it,” she exclaimed before excitedly adding, “Oh, you’re definitely coming over to my place for a proper manicure and most likely some wine. My hot tub is, like, super nice, too. Also, my home is ghost free due to some handy wards and tons of salt so no unwanted plus ones. If you couldn’t tell by my resounding agreement, I’d love to get to know you better and become actual friends. Especially if I get to paint your nails. Makeovers are kind of my thing.” Somehow, Morgan’s energy was a bit contagious. She never thought she’d be making friends with a zombie, but hey, she was solid and didn’t haunt people so who was she to judge? She had a feeling they’d be fast friends.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

To Avenge the Past: Act 3

Act 1 Summary HERE

Act 2 Summary HERE

Morgan tries to get her mind off what happened with Remmy in Miriam’s company, but some differences speak louder than others. X

Morgan goes to her resident revenge expert, Erin, for solace. X

Morgan takes Deirdre to visit her home city and meet her parents. Morgan confronts her mother. X

Morgan strikes a bargain with an exorcist to seal the deal on her revenge, but it costs more than she reckoned on. X

Morgan tries to find validation from the ghosts in the Bachman house ruins, but finds Nora and hope for the future instead. X

Deirdre screams for Lydia to devastating consequences. X

The next day, Morgan and Deirdre struggle to pick up the pieces. X

On a peaceful afternoon in Blanche’s apartment, Constance tries to slay a Ninja. Blanche continues to hold out hope. X

Morgan and Blanche take another stab at reaching Agnes. Morgan learns the truth about her family. X

Blanche confronts Constance about what she learned. X 

Meanwhile, Deirdre returns home after a long absence, but Morgan is too destabilized to find much comfort. X 

Anges pays Morgan a visit in the hopes of steering her off course. Morgan decides to anchor herself with vengeance. X 

Morgan seizes a chance to use an old member of Cece’s coven for her offering, but the blood is spoiled. The witchy roommates say goodbye. X

Morgan seeks advice on luring prey from Miriam, who makes an offer Morgan can’t refuse. X 

As she gathers her blood sacrifice with Miriam, Morgan realizes what she’s done, but it’s too little too late.  X

Agnes comes upon Constance and Blanche in the Common in a last-ditch effort at granting her peace. Constance makes a choice. X

Jasmine, Blanche, Agnes, and Morgan race to stop Constance before more blood is spilled. The past is balanced.  X

Miriam cleans up her mess and reflects alone. X

Morgan lays her pain to rest. X

Morgan comes home to Deirdre in time to celebrate Yule. Spring will come again someday. X

Thank you to all sixteen of my writing partners over the past four months and forty-nine chatzies and solos. I am incredibly grateful for your collaboration, talent and insight. I couldn’t have done this without you.