#chatzy: nadia

[rocket-remmy]

A Tale of Two Nadias || Nadia, Notia, and Remmy

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @humanmoodring​ and @whatsin-yourhead​ SUMMARY: Remmy talks to Nadia. And Nadia. They come to a somber revelation.

People had to sleep. People with heartbeats, even faint ones, had to sleep, and Nadia was no such person, even if she was able to, occasionally, hang out with them. Regan had to sleep, Blanche had to sleep, and Sammy was kind, and sweet, but sometimes, sometimes, Nadia needed to be alone. Even like this, she was an introvert. But she liked being in places where there was life and light and noise. Even when she was younger and at home, she liked to take walks by herself, exploring the neighborhood where she lived. There was always light, always evidence of life. White Crest wasn’t Phoenix, though. Sometimes, the streets were just dead. But she wandered them anyway, trying to keep herself tethered in the moment. One foot, then another. She made sure her feet didn’t slip into the sidewalk, made sure that she avoided fire hydrants and light poles and cracks. If she didn’t pay attention, if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up blinking and it would be morning or mid afternoon. Losing time was the scariest. She didn’t know where she went, and she was so worried that one day she wouldn’t make it back. She moved her boot out of a weed that grew up through a crack in the concrete, concentrating more on her steps than where she was actually going.

 Remmy needed to find Nadia, and they needed to find her fast. She was going to do something stupid, or hurt someone, or someone was going to hurt her, and Remmy needed to help. They had to help. They’d failed Lydia, they couldn’t help Deirdre, and Constance was seeming more and more like a lost cause. There had to be at least someone they could help, right? There just had to be. Their feet pounded the pavement as they ran around town. They didn’t know where they were going, or what they were looking for, but they just needed to keep going. To find her. She had to be somewhere, but she was probably good at hiding. She was a criminal, after all. She’d hurt people, just like Lydia, just like Deirdre. So why did Remmy care so much? Was she really lying the entire time? They couldn’t decide. They just needed to see her, find her. They need to-- “Nadia?” They skidded to a stop. There she was, across the road, except-- she was see through. “Wait-- real Nadia?” They crossed the street quickly, dodging a car on their way. “I thought you were with Blanche? And-- oh, shit, sorry. Uh, I’m Remmy. Blanche’s friend. Are you-- what are you doing out here?”

 Looking up at the sound of her name, Nadia locked eyes with the stranger as they walked towards her, a bit surprised that someone could see her. Was this a stranger? They clearly knew her far better than she knew them and-- and they looked familiar. Like someone from a dream. “Real Nadi-- I mean, yeah, sort of?” She was, she was, she was. She was real. “Yes, I’m real.” She looked around, made sure that they wouldn’t be overheard. The street was pretty dead, aside from the two of them aside from the car that almost hit this person, causing Nadia to flinch and reach out like it’d do something. Though, maybe that meant that it was still quite dead. At least on her end. She was a bit confused. “I, uh, I’m staying with Blanche, I, like, bounce between her apartment and a friend’s cabin. But they sleep, you know, and I don’t, so sometimes I just… walk.” Remmy. It took her a second to process. Remmy. Nadia’s eyes widened, and she imagined she’d feel sick if she actually had a stomach. “Oh, god, fuck, you’re-- I’m so sorry, and we’ve-- I almost fucking killed you.” She put a hand over her mouth, and then she just stared at them. The way they’d started talking to her didn’t make sense. Why did they differentiate her as the real Nadia? “You… You weren’t looking for me, were you?” she asked quietly.

 “Shit, s-sorry, I didn’t mean like--” Remmy started, but immediately stopped, because they didn’t know what they did mean. “I meant you’re actually Nadia. Not...Cordelia Nadia.” It still felt strange saying the name and attributing it to someone who had asked to be called a different name. But Remmy supposed it wasn’t fair to Naida, either, to have her name stolen like that.  “What? Oh, n-no, you don’t have to apologize for that! It wasn’t you. It was, you know, other you,” a beat, “Cordelia.” They looked around the street, wondering if she was somehow nearby, “I-- no,” they admitted quietly, bouncing on the balls of their toes. “Sorry. I just-- I think she’s going to do something stupid again. And I--” how did they explain to Nadia that they might actually care about the person possessing her body? That they didn’t want her to suffer anymore than she needed to? Would Nadia hate them? They swallowed. “Is everything okay? I-- I mean of course it’s not okay okay, you lost your body, but I just mean…you look kinda lost.”

 “Hey, no, don’t apologize, seriously,” Nadia said, feeling bad for the way Remmy stumbled over their words. “But, yeah, I’m just Nadia.” It was a struggle, to imagine that someone thought of her and Cordelia as a… the same. Maybe the same was too strong of a word, but having the same face, the same voice. It reminded her, just a bit, about the fact that for awhile after everything with Kaden and Regan in the cabin, she hadn’t been able to tell where she ended and Cordelia began. “I was there, though. I remember… flashes. It might as well have-- I was there.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You know, I didn’t know her name until pretty recently. You can-- I mean, she’s Nadia, to you. You can call her that.” She frowned, torn between anger and absolute fear at the thought that Cordelia could be doing something awful. “Of course, of course she’s doing something stupid. I mean, she doesn’t have anyone to stop her, and she’s spiralling.” Nadia looked away. “Not, like, that I was good at stopping her.” Did she really look lost? She looked around the street. She was lost. “I mean, it’s going? I’m, uh, it’s totally going. You? I mean, it’s been-- How long has it been? Since-- since. Are you okay?”

 “Well, I mean…” Remmy started, rubbing the back of their head, “even if you were there, I-I don’t blame you. Or her, really, but that’s...complicated…” they muttered, glancing down. They knew everyone else thought Cordelia was bad and nothing but, but Remmy had seen a side of her they supposed she hadn’t shown anyone else here. There was a lost, scared girl inside of all the rage and anger and loneliness, and Remmy just wanted to reach her. Just once. Remmy wanted to try and save her. “No, no,” Remmy said, shaking their head, “she’s Cordelia. She’s just...confused, I think. She died really young, and that’s-- well, I think anyone would be desperate for a second chance if they got it, like that. And I-- I wanna stop her. I wanna help her. I know she’s done some real bad shit and you don’t have to agree with me or even like me, but I--” they swallowed, “I think she deserves a chance to go peacefully.” Nadia’s next words struck Remmy a little painfully in the chest. They looked away. “I’m fine, really. I-- got over it, obviously. It, um-- there was a way to stop the poison, I guess. My friend helped me. So, really, I’m okay.”

 “Uh, thanks. Thanks,” Nadia said quietly. She didn’t know how they couldn’t blame her, or Cordelia. Cordelia had poisoned them. Cordelia had robbed people. Cordelia had killed people. There were a lot of things for her to be blamed for, a lot of things that Nadia would be blamed for. “Confused is… a word for her, yeah.” But she personally didn’t think that Cordelia was confused at all. “I was a lot younger than her when she possessed me for the first time,”  she muttered. Twenty-one, actually, in comparison to Cordelia’s mid-thirties or whatever. Not even out of college, not having lived her life. At least Cordelia had gotten to have a dazzling career. She frowned, though, but she wasn’t mad. If anything, she understood what Remmy was saying. “I’m not, like, upset that you want to help her. I mean, you know more about her than I do, you probably got to see a side of her that I’m probably not even capable of seeing in her. I don’t-- I don’t want her to suffer. She should get to move on.” She paused and looked at her feet. “I just don’t think that’s possible.” She sighed in relief. “I’m glad your friend was there. Morgan, right? She figured everything out pretty quick, you know. I, like, vaguely remember her. She cares a lot about you.”

 “And I was a lot younger than her when I died,” Remmy pointed out, “that doesn’t mean it wasn’t…” But they didn’t finish. Justifying Cordelia to Nadia didn’t seem quite like the right move. They shook their head. “All I mean is...it’s not meant to be comparable. And I-- I’m so sorry,” they deflated, “that that happened to you. I can’t even...imagine what it’s like, to have your life stolen.” Well, they could a little. Not in the same way as Nadia, sure, but their life had been stolen from them the second they signed those recruitment papers. And now, almost fifteen years later, they were finally getting it back. “Maybe it’s not possible anymore, but I-- I can’t just give up without trying. And if-- if she’s doing something stupid or bad, I might be the only person who can stop her. So I have to try.” It was that simple, really. They just had to try. “Morgan? Oh, um--” they looked around, then back at Nadia, “Y-yeah, she’s...yeah. I know.” Even if she hated their guts right now. Even if she looked at them like they were just as bad as Constance right now. They looked back at Nadia. “I-- I don’t want to like, leave you if you need help or anything, but I-- I really should go find Cordelia. You can um, come with if you want? She can’t see you, right?”

 “Wait, dead? You’re… That’s why you can see me, isn’t it? I’m--” Nadia laughed a bit anxiously “I think you probably know me better than I know you.” She didn’t think she was going to get used to someone knowing about her because of Cordelia, recognizing her even when she’d never met them before in her life. “I get what you mean,” she said. “I do. I really do. It’s not comparable, and she was-- is a person.” And people sometimes ruin lives. It was a thing. Cordelia was a piece of shit, but… Nadia would have felt bad, saying that in front of Remmy. “Hey, no, don’t apologize. You don’t have to-- It really could be a lot worse. At least I can actually try to return to my body.” That was more than Nadia could say for Cordelia. She did feel bad for the ghost. She did, she really did. But that didn’t change that Nadia knew she was going to have to be destroyed. “You’re a good person for trying, you know? You really are.” She watched Remmy for a bit, wishing she hadn’t said something that made them stutter like that. But when they asked if she wanted to join them, she just shook her head. “No, I can’t come with you. I don’t… She’ll know I’m there. I’ve been able to sense ghosts since the first exorcism, and she-- I think she’d recognize me.” The thought of that would have made her sick if she’d been able. She smiled softly instead. “I think I’m just gonna walk around for a bit more. It’s a nice night. But… I hope you find her, and I hope that you still recognize in her the person that you care so much about. You deserve that, Remmy.” She didn’t have to be an empath to see how kind they were. They deserved kindness in return.

 “Oh, um-- yeah,” Remmy stuttered, forgetting that being undead wasn’t really common knowledge, “I thought maybe you knew since...she knew.” Cordelia knew what Remmy was and she hadn’t told another soul, but she still wanted Remmy to believe she didn’t-- or couldn’t-- care about them. It was contradictory, really. “It’s-- yeah.” Complicated was the only word that came to mind, but it was more than that. “I-- I’m sorry she did all that to you. No one deserves that…” they shuffled a little on the sidewalk, looking at her as she explained why she wouldn’t come with. It made sense, of course she didn’t want to come with. Remmy suddenly felt bad for ever asking. “S-sorry, no, I-- sorry…” They back peddled a little, rubbing the nape of their neck. “It’s, um-- yeah. Thanks, I-- I hope she is, too. Just-- take care of yourself until you can get your body back, okay, Nadia? You-- a lot of people care about you.” 

 “We didn’t really communicate that much, surprisingly. Most of the things I know about her are from her feelings, or other people.” Or the things she’d done. Nadia almost didn’t know what to do with this situation, seeing the way someone actually viewed Cordelia in something other than a negative light. “Thanks,” she said, and she meant it. Remmy seemed so kind. She worried, for a moment, that Cordelia would do something to take that from them, but she had to hope that Remmy’s kindness was stronger than any bullshit that Cordelia could throw their way. “You don’t have to apologize, I swear. I even appreciate that you asked. I just… can’t face her. Not right now.” She would, soon, and she wasn’t quite ready to deal with that, yet. “I’ll do my best. And, uh, thanks. Take care of yourself, too, Remmy.” She paused, wanted to say more, to warn them, but she didn’t think they’d appreciate it. Instead she waved and walked off, and she hoped they found what-- who-- they were looking for.

 Remmy watched Nadia go for a moment, wondering if what they were doing was really right, or good. But they weren’t sure, either, that they had time to linger on that thought. After every other failure they’d been through, they felt as if they had to put everything they had left into this. Into helping at least one person. Into proving that they could be better than Lydia. That they could stand their ground on their convictions. Once Nadia was out of sight, they turned, and started back on their search. They had to find Cordelia, they just had to. They spent almost the whole night looking, they were worried dawn was going to break before they could find her. It was a good thing zombies couldn’t get tired. They spotted her, finally, coming out of a bar, and once Remmy stopped, they realized that a zombie could get tired, just not physically. Their heart felt heavy. “Nadia?” they called out, keeping a distance from her. She wouldn’t have known they were coming, she couldn’t feel their emotions. “I-It’s Remmy.”

 Honestly, Nadia couldn’t tell if her head was fuzzy because she’d drank too much or from the overpowering scent of someone else’s perfume. Or maybe it was from the heady feeling of being surrounded by so many people, so many emotions. But it was very fuzzy by the time she walked out of the bar. She didn’t even realize someone was calling her name until she looked up. She saw Remmy and smiled, momentarily excited to see a face that she knew liked her. Before she remembered that it wasn’t so certain that they liked her at all. The smile quickly faded, though she took a step forward, legs steady despite being pretty fucking drunk and in heels. “Heya, Remmy,” she said, putting a smile back in place. She was briefly reminded of the first time she’d met them; they’d found her in the middle of the night, then, too. She wondered if this was something they just did, wandering around in search of damsels in distress. “How’s it going?”

 Cordelia was drunk, Remmy could tell that much. They almost felt a hiccup of hope when she smiled at them, but it was washed away when the smile faded and her eyes turned sharp. They paused, unsure if they should approach. She wasn’t trying to shoot them or stab them, yet, so that was nice. Did she know how to kill a zombie? Would she try and kill them? They took a tentative step forward. “I was looking for you,” they said in lieu of answering her question. They were sure that wasn’t really what she meant when she asked it. “I just want to talk,” they said, taking another step, trying to not scare her off. If she ran, they supposed they could run faster and probably catch her, but chasing her down wasn’t really something they felt like doing at the moment. Or ever. “Can we go somewhere?”

 “Looking for me?” Nadia asked, and a smirk worked its way onto her features, cool and not at all kind. “Well, cutie, you found me.” Maybe the night was salvageable. She wasn’t going to kill Remmy-- after the first failed attempt, she didn’t even think she could. But she could still have fun with them, if they behaved. If they didn’t try to turn her in to that fucking medium. “Talking’s no fun.” She pouted, just a bit, as she walked towards them. Hopefully, she wouldn’t startle them away. She wished she could tell what they were feeling, even if they did wear their heart on their sleeve. Seeing wasn’t the same as knowing. She was close to them, almost close enough to touch. “Where do you wanna go?” she asked, voice practically a purr. “What do you wanna do?” She hoped this wasn’t some redemption bullshit, though she figured it probably was, unfortunately. As long as they didn’t try anything foolish, though, she wouldn’t have to fuck ‘em up. 

 Remmy could feel their throat beginning to close as Cordelia came closer. But they stood their ground, didn’t move. Swallowed the lump in their throat and looked at her with steady eyes. “I just said,” they pointed out, “I just wanna talk. And, I dunno-- make sure you’re not doing something stupid. You...kinda seemed like you were going to do something stupid.” Whatever that meant, Remmy wasn’t sure. They knew that Cordelia wasn’t a good person-- in life or death-- and that she was no a poltergeist, but something in them just wouldn’t let go of her. Something in them so desperately held on to the idea that they could do something to save her from herself. From the pain that she would surely endure if she tried to hang on to Nadia’s body. And maybe that was just it, maybe Remmy already ached so much for her knowing the pain they’d both gone through, and not wanting her to have to feel that again. “We can go to the park,” they offered quietly, “there’s some secluded benches.”

 “Well, damn.” Nadia said, but she wasn’t particularly surprised. “Like I said, talking’s no fun.” She narrowed her eyes, feeling indignant rage bubbling under the surface. “Something stupid? Like what? Be specific, Remmy. What kind of stupid things would I be doing?” She hadn’t killed anyone tonight, that wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t have even been stupid if she’d killed someone; it’d have been thrilling. She almost regretted not going home with someone, especially with the way this conversation was going. She gritted her teeth, though, counted to ten, and then let out a sigh. “I wasn’t gonna fuckin’ do anything stupid. But, yeah, alright. Yeah. Park sound’s nice.” Fuck. She bent down, taking off her heels and losing a couple of inches. She looked Remmy in the eyes, motioning them forward with the hand that had her shoes dangling from her fingers. “After you, then.”

 “I dunno, getting yourself hurt,” Remmy said immediately, wondering where the bite in their voice came from. Wondering why they were still so concerned with someone who clearly didn’t want to be saved. “Falling out of more windows, maybe?” They waited a moment for her, wondering if she would even go with them, or if she’d turn and walk the other way the second they walked by. But they sighed and trudged forward, and motioned for her to follow, leading them down the street from the bar to the Common. It was always so eerily quiet here at night, like a bubble existed around the area that tried its hardest to keep out all the shit from the town. Remmy led them to a bench and sat down, hoping Cordelia would join them. “Are you...how are you?” they asked, suddenly realizing even after all their searching and all their worry, they had no idea what they actually wanted to say to her. 

 A look of mock hurt worked its way onto Nadia’s features. “That was one time. You ever gonna let that one go?” Truth be told, the sharpness in their tone wasn’t something that she expected or really liked. She knew Remmy was pissed at her. Like, it was a fucking given after the hurt their medium pal. But she’d hoped that they still saw enough of a person in her to not to express their anger. She stewed on that as they walked, Remmy’s back to her, briefly. She could’ve just walked away. She probably should have. But she’d liked them, once upon a time, before they’d hurt her. She wanted them to still like her, too. She sat beside them, angling her knees to brush against theirs. “Me? Oh, I’m doing fucking fantastic. New place to sleep, new jobs. I go out every night, have a ton of fun. I’m really living my best life, I think.” She’d killed four people, watched the life fade from their eyes. It was like she was adding more life to herself, everytime she did it. “What about you, cutie? You making it?”

 “No,” Remmy said with a shrug, “probably not.” They knew Cordelia wasn’t a good person-- she hurt people. She hurt Blanche on purpose. She was a poltergeist. She had probably killed people at this point. But Remmy couldn’t let go of the want, the need, to try and get through to her somehow. They were done watching people suffer. They just wanted one person to hold onto. Their eyes fell to their touching knees and Remmy swallowed. Once upon a time, they’d have liked this. Sitting here, talking to her. Being near her. Once upon a time, Remmy thought they might have actually liked her in a way more than friends. “So you’re happy?” they asked, looking back up at her. “I’m-- kind of struggling. Surprised you care to ask, though. I thought you hated me.”

 Rolling her eyes, Nadia snorted. “Of course you won’t.” Had she even thought, for a moment, that they would? No, Remmy didn’t seem like the kind of person to let anything go, even when it’d end up better for them. Hell, they’d seemed so sure that they could still help her move on, even when they both knew she was passed that point. Moving on wasn’t an option anymore. “Happy?” she asked, rolling the word over on her tongue. Was she? Depended on what qualified as happy. Killing, stealing, and just fucking destroying things gave her a major sense of satisfaction, but she didn’t know if that qualified as happy. Still, she gave them a large grin. “Babe, I’m ecstatic with the way my life’s going right now.” She let it shift off of her features just as quickly as it came, though, sighing sharply through her nose. “Should I not have asked? I don’t hate you, Remmy. You upset me, and I wanted you to fuck off, but I don’t hate you. I hate a lot of people and things and even places, but you’re not one of ‘em.” She actually didn’t know what she thought of them. She really didn’t hate them, but she was more lukewarm to them than she had been. She could still act like she cared, though. What she was hadn’t ripped her off all abilities to be a damn good actress. “I’m sorry you’re struggling. Seriously, you don’t deserve to.”

 The hesitation was all it took for Remmy to know Cordelia was lying. But they weren’t going to point that out. Blanche had said she was a poltergeist, she was beyond saving-- but here she was, sitting here, talking to them. Normally. She wasn’t hurting anyone right now, was she? Would she hurt someone else if Remmy let her go? Had she already hurt people tonight? They looked away. Lydia was unsaveable now, dead and gone and irredeemable. But Cordelia was still here. She still had a chance to change and do the right thing, poltergeist or not. Right? “That’s just life though, isn’t it? A struggle.” They looked back over at her, into her eyes. As if pleading with her to hear them out. “You really don’t hate me? I mean, I’m glad you don’t,” they sighed, “I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it, if you did. So many things have changed, so many people have hurt me. I don’t why I’m trying so hard for you, Cor-- er, Nadia…” They rubbed their head again. “Sorry.” Sometimes it felt like they didn’t know anything, anymore. They were losing so much, letting go of someone else, however cruel they might be, felt too painful.

 “I mean, sure, life’s a struggle, but it’s not supposed to be all the time.” Nadia would stand by that, especially now. “Sometimes it’s gotta be fun, you know?” Things had been mostly fun for her, lately. Or, least, boring, with brief flashes of fun that she chased like a hungry hound after a rabbit. She couldn’t handle boredom like she could before. She chalked it up to… not quite missing Nadia Diaz, but not being used to her not being there. Even when Nadia had been asleep, she’d still been a presence in the back of Nadia’s mind, and it was odd not to have her there. She had to fill the emptiness somehow. Dancing, fucking, killing. She had to fill it somehow. “No, I really don’t hate you. You haven’t really done anything hate worthy.” And they hadn’t, seriously. Hating them would be so easy; it was pretty fucking easy to hate everything, but she didn’t want to. Hating them would take time outta hating other things. She felt a muscle in her jaw twitch at their words, though, and she looked away. “I’m-- that’s shitty. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard for me, either, though. I mean, I’m hot, totally.” She sighed. “Cordelia Gregory is dead. Her body? Worm food. But Nadia Diaz’s heart’s still beating, and I’m the one that’s making it beat. Until I stop it, I’m Nadia. Okay?”

 Remmy was quiet for a long time. They didn’t quite understand why Cordelia wanted so badly to be Nadia. Not just in name, but in body, too, it seems. If she had loved her life so much, then why was she trying so hard to leave it behind. Remmy let out a long breath. They knew what they had to say was only going to anger or upset Cordelia, but they knew, at this point, it needed to be said. “But she isn’t dead,” they finally stated, turning a tentative eye to look over at her sat beside them on the bench, “she’s you.” They reached up, slowly, and put a hand on her chest, over her heart. “You might have Nadia’s body, but you’re still Cordelia, you know. It’s the spirit, the mind, that makes someone a person. Not the body. Not the fingerprints or the hair or the eyes. Cordelia Gregory’s body might be worm food, but she doesn’t have to be.” They looked into her eyes squarely, “You don’t have to suffer.”

 “Yeah, well, outside of this body, I’m pretty fucking dead.” Nadia looked down at where Remmy’s hand pressed against her chest, Nadia Diaz’s frantic heart beating in her chest. Because it was her heart, she’d won it fair and square but… it also wasn’t, and there was little she could do to change that. She leaned away, though she gave them a savage grin. “Cordelia’s dead, Remmy. You wouldn’t have liked her, anyway. Or maybe you would’ve, if your taste in people’s as shitty as it seems.” She couldn’t do this. Nadia looked away from Remmy, standing. “I’ve got nothing waiting for me but suffering, babe. I wracked up enough of it when I was Cordelia. Forgive me for trying to outrun it while I can.” Actually, all she had waiting for her was nothing. That’s all she had left for herself. “But, hey, I like being like this. I wanted this. Can’t complain for getting what I wanted.” Nadia gave them a wink. “It’s been fun, cutie, but I’ve got thing to do. I’ll walk you home if you don���t try and save my soul.” 

 Remmy looked at Nadia-- at Cordelia-- and felt the words digging deep into their chest. She was right-- she was dead. As dead as Remmy. Technically more. If they could trade places with her, they would. But she didn’t think she wanted that. There was something about Nadia’s body that Cordelia had become obsessed with. Her words were a painful reminder of all the friends they’d lost along the way, and how they’re heart craved to hold on to something to someone. But this-- this was wrong. This wasn’t it, was it? Remmy watched Cordelia stand and looked up at her. They stood up, stiffly, and gave a sigh. “I’m sorry, Cordelia,” they muttered, but motioned for her to lead. “I won’t try to save you anymore.” Because, sometimes, people just couldn’t be saved.

[detectivedreameater]

How To Tell A Lie|| Nadia and Marley

Why drink alone when you can drink with somebody else?

Finishing her beer, Nadia figured she’d have just one more before she paid her tab and headed back home. The more she did this, go out and drink or eat in public places, the better she was getting about being around people. She still hated it; it still stressed her out and made her horribly uncomfortable, but she no longer felt like she was on the verge of having a really bad time. She usually just tried to focus her weird empath abilities on one person at a time, like the bartender. It would have been better if she went out with people that she knew; might make things easier. But Nadia was stubborn, and, really, very few people enjoyed going out late on a weeknight. She had to be one of the few people in town not trying to get on a normal sleeping schedule now that the sun was back. She motioned for the bartender to fix her one more and sighed, trying to untangle his boredom from hers. 

The myriad of bars that existed in White Crest were begging to bore Marley. They were all the same. You had your tame, upper middle class bar- Dell’s. You had your weirdos bar- Soul on the Rocks. You had your cop bar, the karaoke bar, the “supernatural” bar, and the “magic” bar. And that was about it. There were little dives here and there, but none of them ever really lasted. So it was with a finality that Marley found herself back at The Perfect Pint. It was the best bar in town if you were looking for good, cheap beer and a good, cheap, lay. Which Marley was looking for both. But what she found was something even better. The girl at the bar, looking more placid and bored than even the bartender, had something a little special. Marley didn’t even need to look at her to know it. It wafted off of her like the smell of fresh baked bread. Fear. Picking up her drink, a dark stout, Marley shifted the few seats over and sat next to the woman at the bar. “Wanna know a secret?” she asked quietly, leaning in with a grin. 

 Not expecting anyone to come up to her, Nadia started a bit as the curly haired woman moved in beside her and leaned in close. She wasn’t so easily startled; well, that was a lie, but she was a bit jumpier than usual. Ever since Regan had stayed the night, she’d been sleeping a bit worse, like something was inherently wrong and she just didn’t know it. She tried not to think about it. Confident and cool, the woman had that muted quality that Nadia was learning to associate with two different kinds of people: those that were really closed off, and those that were supernaturally inclined. She cocked her head to the side, interested in how this conversation was going to go but ready to easily let the other woman down if she was just coming over to flirt. She gave a soft smile. “Sure, what’s the secret?” 

Marley shifted a little. Whoever this girl was, the fear radiating from her was almost enough to just bask in. But Marley being Marley, she wanted more. She shifted the sunglasses on her face a little, pointing towards the back of the bar. “There’s a spot in the very back where the sound gets weird, and you can hear almost every conversation in the bar,” she said, before leaning away, taking a sip of her beer. Whatever was up with this woman, Marley wanted to know everything about her. And she could easily find out-- that’s what she did, after all. She was a profiler and a damn good one. “It’s a good cure for boredom,” she said with a shrug, “just saying.” 

Not exactly what Nadia was expecting, but her grin widened a bit. “Yeah?” She didn’t really need to hear every conversation going on in the bar, but this woman didn’t need to know that. And, besides, it might be fun. She was a bit buzzed and more than a little bored from hanging around the bartender for too long, and this woman was interesting. “Sounds interesting. I bet I could tell you if they’re lying or not.” She usually played her game from a distance, reading people’s emotions and then making up stories as to why they felt that way. However, if they could already hear the conversations, then it was easier to switch things up. It was fun to occasionally be a human lie detector. “Because I won’t lie, it has been a bit boring, which I’d probably be okay with if I wasn’t about to fall asleep right here.” 

Now that was intriguing. Was this woman something “extra” as well? Interest piqued, Marley took the bait. “Oh yeah?” she tapped the side of her glass. “Well, before you go on, I should probably lay out on the table that I’m a profiler,” she said, giving a grin, “so if you wanna play the “who’s lying” game, then you’re on. But I think I’ll win.” She nodded towards the place she’d pointed out before. “Wanna make a bet?” She asked, picking up her drink and sliding from the chair. “Whoever gets the most right, wins. Loser buys the next round. Does that sound less boring?” 

Raising her eyebrows a bit, Nadia really looked at the woman in front of her. A profiler? She’d never met one before. She wondered if that was something she’d be good at, but she shot that down pretty quick. Being able to sense a person’s immediate feelings wasn’t the same as knowing their character. Plus, she was a wanted criminal with a record a mile long. Still, it’d be interesting. “Is there much use for profiling in White Crest?” she asked. There was a shit ton of crime, sure, but most of it seemed to get covered up at the end of the day. She didn’t imagine there were many suspects that needed to be interviewed. Nadia grinned, took a sip of her drink. “I’m no profiler, but I’m really good at understanding people,” she said. “I’m game. Question is, though, how do we know who’s right? But, yeah, this is already less boring.” 

“That’s the thing,” Marley said, motioning for the other woman to follow her as she led them over to the corner booth where the bar echoed endlessly for them to eavesdrop on. “Profiling is useful everywhere,” she shrugged, sliding into the booth and motioning for her to follow. Marley wanted to know so much more about her. What made her scared? Why was she here alone? What abilities did she have that could let her parse out someone lying? “Oh, leave that part to me,” she said, giving a smirk. “I have a knack for getting people to tell the truth.” As she leaned back and surveyed the rather quiet crowd tonight, she finally took in the sight of the woman full of fear. She was a rather pretty sight to behold, aside from the bags under her eyes, and the taught way she held her body. Stress, perhaps? Paranoia? Marley needed to know. “Alright, you pick first,” she said, gesturing to the crowd.

As she followed the other woman to the back of the bar, Nadia realized they hadn’t even exchanged names. “Alright, fair, Ms. Profiler. Sounds like a useful job to have.” She smiled, “I’m Nadia, by the way.” She sat down across from Marley and leaned forward a bit, resting her elbows on the table. “Really?” Nadia asked, but she already believed the other woman. Marley seemed incredibly sure of herself, especially about getting people to tell the truth. Made sense, if she was a profiler. Seemed to kind of be a big part of the job, figuring out a person’s agenda. Nadia rolled her shoulders a bit and scanned the bar. They really could hear everything. She could hear someone ordering a drink at the bar, as well as the guy that seemed to own the place trying to schmooze a few people. But she focused on the couple sitting by the window. Usually, Nadia hated being around when relationships were falling apart, but they were kind of fun when she played this kind of game, especially when she could feel the tensions coming off of them in waves. “Yeah, alright. Them.” 

“Really, really,” Marley said, giving a mischievous grin before following Nadia’s line of sight around the bar. “Please, Ms. Profiler was my dad. You can call me Marley.” There weren’t too many fun faces to pick from, and no one overly interesting, but the couple in the corner was definitely about to argue. The way the man was slumping in his chair, his posture uninterested and annoyed. The tightness of the woman’s lips, the way her legs bounced-- even the clothes she was wearing. It was easy to tell. “Alright, let’s see what they say,” she scooted a little closer so they could both listen, grinning as the woman asked her partner where he’d been the other night and he answered with “working late”. This one almost felt too easy, but Marley glanced sideways at Nadia.  

“It’s nice to meet you, Marley,” Nadia said with a bit of a laugh. And it was. Between the buzz from the alcohol and the easy confidence Marley gave off, Nadia was already a bit less stressed than she’d been before she came to The Perfect Pint. She might even be able to get a few decent hours of sleep, though she doubted it. Best not to think. She allowed herself to ease into the moment, not just focusing on the couple’s words but also their actions, their body language, and, yes, their emotions. Tense shoulders, a tight lip, and the fact that the woman’s thought were angry as hell as she remembered a woman’s name on a cell phone number all seemed to point to the fact that the man was lying, and that was even before she got a good read on him. He was just… bored. He didn’t care about this, probably would rather be anywhere else. His excuse was hardly even that. It was just meaningless words. And he didn’t care. “Well, he’s lying, sure. He’s also kind of a piece of shit. He doesn’t even care,” Nadia said. Then she looked at Marley. “I mean, that’s the kind of vibe he’s giving off.” 

Marley grinned. “Pleasure,” she said, before turning her focus back to the couple, wondering what Nadia would read from them. She had to admit, this was kind of fun. She’d initially just come over here for the feast, but it was a plus, now, that she actually had some entertainment. She wrapped one hand around her beer and let the other rest against the back of the booth as they both watched. “Mmmm, sure, yes,” she hummed, “the vibe.” It might’ve just been Marley reading too far into things, but Marley was a profiler, she never read too far into things. Nadia had something special about her, and now the itch to know that was there, too. “What sort of vibe do you get, then, from me?” she asked, turning to look at her. “Can you feel it? See it?”  

Oh. Nadia felt, in that moment, that she’d overshared, just a bit. “I mean, his posture, for one, suggests disinterest in the conversation, despite the fact that she’s chewing him out,” she said, stalling for just a bit to try and parse together what she wanted to say. The thing was that Nadia still wasn’t incredibly comfortable with being an empath, despite the fact that she was trying to learn to control her abilities a lot more. Honestly, being an empath had fucked her over so many times that she’d rather be nice and boring and normal. If normal even existed. She turned to Marley and tapped one finger against the table a few times. “You’re very confident, but I don’t think you need me to tell you that, huh? And it’s…” People knew about empaths, they were a thing. “It’s a feeling.”

Marley could have easily left it at that, a feeling. Posture. But she was nosey, she liked knowing things. About people, about things. She’d been excluded all her life, tossed from family to family, wondering if she’d ever find somewhere that she fit in, that was hers. It felt like a need, more than a want, to know things. To know everything. And so, she raised a brow. “A feeling, huh?” rolled her head a second, tapping her fingers on the side of the glass. “I won’t push it, but--” glanced sideways at Nadia, as if she was trying to parse her out. The truth was, Marley had parsed her out the minute she’d seen her. Palpable fear didn’t come from someone normal. “You’ve got a little something...extra, right?” She shrugged, settling in. Wondered what angle she should play next, before glancing over at her. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. And you definitely don’t gotta tell me. But, if it makes you feel better,” she leaned in close again, giving a wary, if almost hesitant glance, “I do, too.” 

Nadia ran a hand through her hair and sighed a bit. Under the table, her leg bounced a bit. She’d never talked about it in person until now, she was beginning to realize that. It was such a separate part of her life, different from the possessed part and the criminal part. The empath part of her had always been there, and yet it was the part she knew the least about. She wasn’t even sure on where to begin. “I little something ‘extra’ is certainly one way to put it, yeah.” Nadia+. Just like your regular human, but with added anxieties and the inability to discern other people’s emotions from her own. A real gift. She looked at Marley, really looked at her, and then nodded her head a bit. “I could kind of tell. I’m beginning to recognize certain differences that some people have in comparison to others.” Nadia was still being a bit vague, unsure how much she could say and how much Marley knew. Not that Nadia was an expert, but still. 

Nadia was getting anxious, and Marley could tell. Maybe asking about all that was pushing her too much, and if she psuhed too far, she was certain Nadia would ditch. And she couldn’t have that. She at least needed a little more information about her, but it was becoming increasingly clear that whatever fears Nadia had, being ‘preternatural’ was part of it. It was clear, now, that she was either empath or aura reader, but since she wasn’t averting her eyes when looking at people, Marley was almost positive it was empath. “Oh yeah?” she quirked a brow. Somehow, she didn’t like that. That someone could parse her out, just because she felt a little different. Shifting, she tried to relax a little. “Okay, well, we started easy, how abooooout….” she hummed, glanced around, then found someone sitting alone at the bar, cradling a half empty tumbler. Sullen, slumped, eyes staring straight into the brown liquid in his glass. “Him. What’s he lying about?” This one ought to have been harder, for an empath. Knowing his emotions alone wouldn’t reveal his secrets, but maybe if she struggled, Nadia would turn to Marley for the answer. And feed right into her palm. 

Before turning to the man that Marley pointed out, Nadia took just a moment to take in the other woman. “Yeah, a bit.” Marley was a bit different, now, still confident, but… she looked more relaxed that she seemed to feel. However, Nadia wasn’t going to push it. Instead, she looked at the man. Clothes a bit disheveled, slightly greasy hair, vacant eyes, he looked and felt pretty fucking miserable. The bartender asked him, cautiously, if he was alright, and the affirmative response could be parsed out to be a lie even if one didn’t have the supernatural know-how to do so. She turned to Marley. “I mean, duh.” But what he was lying about and why? That hadn’t been a part of the game, had it? “Maybe his drink’s bad,” she said with a slight laugh. “Hell, I don’t know what he’s lying about, or why. Could be anything. What do you think?” 

“Here,” Marley said, leaning forward finally, elbows resting on the table as she pushed her drink aside, “is where my expertise comes in. He’s not just lying about being alright-- that’s too obvious. Anyone could tell he was lying about that. Can’t you feel it? That misery?” She pointed at him. “He’s not just lying about being okay, he’s lying about everything in his life. See the untucked business suit? The loosened tie? You’d think those’d be normal, right? He’s at a bar? But no. Look closer. There’s no tuck wrinkles on the hem of the shirt, which means its been untucked all day, probably. His shoes have scuffs on them, and usually if someone’s gonna wear shoes that nice, they take care of them. Lack of polish points to apathy. He’s either losing his job or losing what allows him to keep his job. No wedding ring, no tan line to indicate he ever was-- shouldn’t a guy like that be looking for someone to hit up? There were two attractive women and several other attractive men at the bar earlier, but he hasn’t moved, nor has he looked around. He came here to drink, but, he’s only had half a beer. So, then, what does that tell you? He’s preoccupied. Which means he knows something he wants to forget. It probably has to do with this job, or,” she paused, looking over at Nadia again, “he found out something that changed his whole world.”  

After all that, Nadia raised her eyebrows, thoroughly impressed. “Wow.” But she looked closer at the guy, taking in all of the little details that Marley mentioned. Good things, solid things, more than just facial expression and body language like she normally relied on. She never took clothing as anything more than minor details, and it was clear to see what a mistake that was. “Very impressive, Officer,” she said with an easy grin and a laugh. “Never would have thought about half of that. Damn, you’re good.” She looked at the man again, this time trying to pick his feelings a bit. Horribly miserable, and his job was on his mind a bit. She could see papers and numbers, sloppily written signatures running through his head. “You’re onto something about the job. He’s upset about it, I think. He doesn’t think about things in sentences, at least not when feelings are concerned. I’ve met a few people like that, actually, it’s really cool,” She turned to Marley and then looked away, taking a swig of her drink. “But that’s kind of boring and irrelevant. I really do think it has something to do with his job, though.” 

Now she was getting it. Marley gave a big smile, sinking back into the booth, satisfied. “I know I am,” she said with a wave of her hand, picking up her drink and swigging it. “It’s all in the details, you know? Not just the body language, although that’s a big part of it. It’s more than that, though. It’s the behaviors, small and learned and inherent. Put it all together, and there you have it-- a profile.” She tapped the side of her head. “I can know more about a person just by looking at them than talking to them. Although, sometimes it’s nicer, you know,” she shrugged, “to talk first.” Glanced at Nadia before looking away. She perked up. “Oh? No, no-- please tell me more. That’s definitely interesting. You can hear thoughts, then? Like, as part of the feelings stuff?” she asked, genuinely interested. She’d heard tell of empaths and aura readers, after digging into the supernatural community and what all that entailed. Turns out, powered humans were a big part of it. She’d always been so outside of any sort of community, it felt almost unfair that humans could be a part of a society she never got to be a part of. 

“That’s really cool,” Nadia murmured. She laughed a little bit at Marley’s self-confidence, though, the more she talked with the other woman, the less it surprised her. “People seem to say a lot more when they’re not speaking, I’ve learned. Their facial expressions, their body language, their clothes, apparently,” she paused, “their feelings. It all says a hell of a lot more than words.” She shifted in her seat a bit, feeling just a bit uncomfortable talking about herself. She ran a hand through her hair again. At least Marley actually seemed interested, though. There wasn’t anything malicious about it, that she could tell. “I, uh, yeah. Sometimes I hear thoughts. Only when they’re related to what the person’s feeling, though. Sometimes it’s images, sometimes it’s a voice. People think in different ways. It’s pretty cool, I guess.” It had always freaked her out, when she was younger, not know what the hell she was seeing or hearing. She got used to it, but, damn. It had been a lot. “What about you? What’s your, uh, something extra?” 

To lie or not to lie? Would Nadia be able to suss her out if she did? The perk of knowing when other people lied was also being able to lie really well yourself. And Marley was good at both of those. Telling Nadia what she was wouldn’t work here, so she’d have to work around that. And the best way to tell a lie, was to tell the truth. At least, most of it. “Well, like I said, I’ve got an eye for detail. I can...sense things that others can’t. Not-- not like you, though. It’s not a feeling. It’s more of a...well, sense, I suppose is the word. Stuff I can’t help but be drawn to. I think it’s part of why I became a detective, although I’d also like to think I did that just for me, too. Because I was good at something, and it could help people.” That part wasn’t a lie at all, although ‘help people’ was meant for just one person. One friend, lost long ago. She sighed, letting the feeling of the memory take over inside of her-- if Nadia could only concentrate on that, she wouldn’t need to pry further into the other feelings. She traced the rim of her cup slowly. “There’s lots of people here like us, you know? You just gotta know where to look for them.” 

Nodding her head a bit, Nadia thought that all made sense, and she couldn’t feel anything off with Marley’s answer. It’s not like she’d asked her what she was, anyway. “That’s pretty cool.” She’d never thought about using what she was to do anything. Not except for help Felix, which she hadn’t been and still wasn’t exactly thrilled about. It made her feel a bit awful, actually, that she was using her abilities to help a drug dealer that she was friendly with (and apparently owed) while Marley was actually trying to do good. “It’s awesome, actually, that you’re doing something worthwhile with yourself.” She took another drink. “I’m beginning to see that, actually. How many of us there are.” Did she include herself in with supernaturals? Could she not, at this point? “Have you always known? That you were different?” It felt strange to ask, but Nadia had to know if she was the only fool out there who spent so long in the dark about it. 

“I’m just doing my part,” Marley shrugged, “plus, I really like mysteries. And solving them. Needless to say, I was a big fan of Scooby-Doo and Sherlock Holmes as a kid.” She gave a soft chuckle, picking up her glass and finishing off her drink. “I always knew that I was, you know...different. I could feel it. But I never knew exactly what I was. Not for...a long time.” And that was the truth. She could still remember the wave of relief she’d felt when she’d found out. How everything made sense. Why no one ever quite understood her. Why she never fit in. “So, why’d you come to White Crest, then?” she asked, looking over at Nadia. 

“I can get that,” Nadia said with a smile. “Wanting to do something you’re passionate about. Even if that passion is Scooby Doo,” she joked. She sobered a bit and needed to take a drink. “I didn’t find out about-- well-- all of this until pretty recently. That’s actually one of the reasons I’m in White Crest.” She decided to be a bit careful with what she said next. “I guess I was kind of stumbling around for years, and then I just woke up one day, and I was here. Decided I needed to get my life together and figure my shit out, I guess. She raised an eyebrow and lifted up her drink. “Think I’m doing a damn good job with it, huh?” 

“Well,” Marley said, waving over the bartender, “I think we all have to start somewhere, right? As long as you’re still alive, you’re doing alright.” When the bartender came over, she ordered a second drink, then turned to Nadia. “On me. Even though we didn’t really play,” she smiled gently at her. “People like us, we gotta stick together, right?” If only the words could be true. If only it actually worked that way. Friendships, relationships-- they didn’t achieve anything. And Marley didn’t need anyone. She just needed a good, steady meal, and at the end of the day, wasn’t that the most important?  

Smiling, Nadia gave Marley a bit of a salute with her glass. “Thanks. Next time it’s on me, though.” She backtracked a bit. “I mean, if you’d like to get drinks again. It’s always less sad to drink with others, and, uh, you’re right,” she scratched the back of her neck, a little uncomfortable with the notion of it but unwilling to voice it. “We’ve got to stick together.” Maybe she was a part of the supernatural community, in a way. It was a comforting thought. Now, if only she could get a decent night’s rest. Things might be looking up. 

[divineluce]

Nothing Left to Lose || Nadia & Luce

Timing: Late March 22nd, 2020

Location: The Vural House

Tagging: @humanmoodring & @divineluce

Description:  Luce opens up to Nadia.

TW: Sibling death mentions

Letting out a long sigh, Luce stared down at her latest sketch, her fingertips blackened with charcoal dust. It was shit. She knew it was shit. Her heart wasn’t in it, she was drawing like she was going through the motions. Because she was. Grabbing the nub of charcoal she’d been using, Luce scribbled over the forest scene she’d been drawing and began to aimlessly draw. A circle, an oval, and then more lines appeared without her even thinking of it. Before she realized just what she was drawing, the image materialized before her-- Luce sucked in a harsh breath as she stared down at a ruined, melting eye staring up at her from a burning skull. Lydia. Always Lydia. She pressed her palm against the paper, willing the fire to come. She wanted to let the anger wash over her in the comforting way it always had, she wanted to watch the flames rise from her fingertips and spread across the paper. But nothing came. Not even a smoldering ember rose. And the ruined eye stared back at her.

The charm around her wrist buzzed and Luce flinched, heart practically jumping out of her skin. Her hand instinctively closed around one of the paper cutting knives on her desk, before her eyes darted to her phone. Shit, already? She’d lost track of time. Setting the knife back down, Luce flipped the paper over on her desk before heading to the front door, waving her hand over the charmed bracelet that Bea had given her long ago. Taki was sleeping in the middle of the hallway and she stepped over the large Ovenik before opening the door. That was when she realized that she’d opened it before Nadia even had a chance to knock. “Uh. Hey. I heard you coming up the driveway.” She lied. There were just some things that people didn’t need to know, and the protection spells around the house were one of those. 

It was weird getting around without a cast on, but it made driving a stick shift way easier, so Nadia couldn’t complain. Her side still hurt like a bitch, and she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep, but she no longer looked like one of the walking dead. Slowly but surely, she was healing. At least physically. She’d been running late on her way to Luce’s and had forgotten that she was, well, solid. Walking into the doorframe had hurt her pride more than her face, really, and she was just grateful that no one had actually witnessed her mistake except for one very judgemental cat. She headed to Luce’s before she could fuck up and run into anything again. The jump out of her truck reminded her why she didn’t jump much anymore, and she was covering up a wince as she walked to the door. One that was immediately hidden by the slight look of surprise as Luce opened the door. It was so nice to feel emotions again, to not feel alone, even if they were of the more negative variety. “Hey,” Nadia said. Luce felt like residual anger and surprise, and something extra. She was lying. What a strange thing to lie about. Nadia wasn’t one to ask, to pry, as she tried to force her focus inward. She knew Luce was there, could feel another person’s feelings so that her own weren’t cavernously bouncing about in her skull. That was enough. “You said you wanted to… talk, right?”

Luce took the other woman in, eyes flitting from her cast free arm to the bags under her eyes, the slightly drawn lines of her face. Nadia looked like she’d been through hell. Because she had been, Luce reminded herself. Nadia had been shoved from her body for… so fucking long, and she had no idea how much something like that would fuck up a person. The fact Nadia was even standing-- Luce did her best to quell the fresh pangs of guilt that hit her. Nope. No, she was here to explain herself and the baggage she’d carried with her the nights they’d spent together before everything had gone to shit and that bitch Cordelia had taken control. She wasn’t here to add more to Nadia’s plate. She owed Nadia an explanation. Just like she’d owed Remmy one. But, she hadn’t been able to explain things to them, had she? Not in any real kind of way. Not in the way that mattered. Realizing that she was still staring at Nadia, Luce’s default lazy grin slipped across her face. But, it didn’t come as easy as it once had. “Yeah, come on in. Watch out for the cat.” She said, opening the door and stepping over Taki. “He’s napping and if you step on his tail,” Luce gestured with her hand and made a “poof” sound, “He’ll light you up. He melted a lot of my sneakers when I was younger.” Luce headed into the kitchen-- it had been Bea’s space, before she’d left for New York. Their home was divided like that, into designated areas that belonged to each of them. Nell with her greenhouse, Bea with the kitchen, and her with… well, she had her shed. But she’d deferred the outdoors to Nell. And Bea wasn’t here to use it so, kitchen it was. “Want something to drink?”

Nadia knew that Luce was holding something back, that something was weighing on her. Something was always weighing on the other woman, really. She’d figured that out pretty quick. But Nadia was a coward about things like this, always afraid to talk about things that couldn’t be easily controlled, so she always went along with what Luce said as opposed to what she felt. It was easier that way. If they didn’t talk about it, there was less of a chance that Nadia would have to hear something that she didn’t want to, like ‘This isn’t working’ or ‘We shouldn’t hang out’ or ‘You’re impossibly clinging and your concern isn’t needed.’ Can’t be clinging if you do your damnedest to not show that you were attached, Nadia had taught herself that years ago. She had trouble with it, sometimes-- most times-- but it was still a lesson she knew. She returned Luce’s smile as well as she could before looking at the large cat sleeping near the doorway. “Fucking Christ,” she muttered. The cat made Rhiannon, who was pretty fucking big, look like a damn kitten. “Right, shit, okay.” She moved around the cat carefully; she didn’t have a better pair of boots right now. She followed Luce into the kitchen, looking around a bit at the house that three witch sisters had made their home. She looked back at Luce, curious but trying not to let it show. The other woman had asked her out there to talk, but she was stalling. Nadia wasn’t going to stop her. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind a glass of water.”

Grabbing a pair of glasses from the cupboard, Luce filled them up before sliding one across the clean white countertop to Nadia. She wanted to break out a glass of whiskey, honestly, but that… probably wasn’t the right tone to set with things. Nope. No, she just had to… get this shit off her chest. Because Nadia deserved answers, even if she hadn’t questioned why Luce carried so much emotional baggage. “So, uh,” She leaned against the kitchen island, hands wrapped around the glass. She stared at the water, imagining it bubble and froth under her fingers. But, it remained just as cool as ever. Fuck. “I know you’ve been through a lot of shit. And I just wanted to be straight with you about some stuff.” Be straight. What a fucking phrase. A hint of a grin played on Luce’s lips at her word choice, but she forced herself to focus. “So. Like you know, I didn’t realize you were empath when we first started hooking up. And I definitely brought a lot of fucked up emotional baggage into things because,” Luce rubbed the back of her neck, the velvet of her choker pressing against the palm of her skin, “I was going through a lot of shit. And I figured you deserved answers.”

Taking a deep breath, Luce steadied herself. Rip the bandaid, come clean. Explain. In a flat voice, she said, “Someone murdered my sister. And that fucked me up a lot. And I did a lot of really fucked up things to try and feel better about it. I used you. I used someone else I... really cared about.” She said, regret and guilt fresh in her mind at the way she’d treated Remmy. Swallowing, Luce nodded, “I just wanted to say I was sorry. For making you deal with my baggage. I didn’t realize you could feel how much I was hurting and it wasn’t-- I shouldn’t have done that.”

Nadia took a drink of water, waiting for Luce to start. But, when Luce mentioned not knowing that Nadia was an empath, she frowned. “Hey, of course you didn’t-- I didn’t tell you that I was an empath, right? How could you have known? It’s not like I carry around a sign that says ‘Control your emotions around me, please.’” She fidgeted a bit with the cup in her hand before running a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “I’m the one who should-- I should apologize, you know? Because I should’ve told you, and it’s not fair that I just know this shit. I try to turn it off. It’s not fair that I can pry into things.” She didn’t expect Luce to dive right into her sister getting fucking murdered. Nadia was flashed back to the overwhelming grief that she remembered Luce giving off, the incredible pain that the other woman had been in. “What?” she asked, eyes wide. “Your sister-- But they’re both-- How is that--” She blinked harshly. Again, grief. Grief and regret and guilt so thick that she didn’t just feel it but tasted it, too. Was she feeling herself or Luce? Did it matter? Nadia closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t. You didn’t know, and you can’t just stop feeling things. That’s not how it works. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Still. Even if you weren’t an empath, just… using people like that, it wasn’t okay.” Luce said, thinking back to the nights she’d spent with Remmy, knowing full well how much they cared for her only for her to ignore it. And when she’d finally realized how much they mattered to her, she’d lost them. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She said, shaking her head. Nadia had agreed to something casual-- just sex, just something physical. But Luce had been the one to bring her own fucked up feelings into things, not knowing that she wasn’t the only one stuck carrying the weight of them. “Even if you can turn it off, it still wasn’t right of me to do that.”

Luce had anticipated questions, but they hit harder than she’d expected. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d told someone what had happened, what she’d lost. What all three of them had lost, not just with Bea’s death but in the price that came with bringing her back. Lifting her hands to her neck, Luce unclasped her choker. The raised scar that ran along the left side of her neck stood out harsh and jagged under the warm glow of the kitchen lights. “We brought her back. But it cost… a lot.” It’d cost lives. She’d killed. And she’d kept on killing, fuelled by that rage and hate and belief that if she killed people before they could hurt her, then she could be safe. But it hadn’t kept Nell safe, not for very long. It had created an irreparable divide between her and Remmy. And fuck, she didn’t want to lose Nadia too. Which was a… wild thought.  “I just wanted to explain. Because you deserve an explanation for what you’d felt. And to let you know that I’m not exactly the person I was before you… were forced out.” She said, the words feeling inadequate compared to just how much the other woman had suffered. 

Nadia sighed. “No, it’s not, but the fact that you’re acknowledging that makes it better than half the shit that some people pull.” And it wasn’t like Luce was the only person to ever use others. Fuck, Nadia did it all the time when she was younger, when she needed to get out of her own head and just not feel something. There’s nothing better at helping you push your own feelings to the side than using somewhere else’s. Even if it left you feeling like shit the next morning. Nadia knew about that all too well. “I still should have told you when I found out. It wasn’t fair, not letting you know what you were getting into with someone that kind of knows what you’re feeling.” Nadia knew that Luce was in on the supernatural shit. She should have told her. But then, Luce probably wouldn’t have wanted to be around her, and, damn, she really didn’t like the sound of that. Especially since she couldn’t really turn it off, as much as she tried.

The scar on Luce’s neck made Nadia ache, like secondhand pain to go with secondhand feelings. She reached out and then dropped her hand to the side, jaw clenched. “Fuck,” she whispered. “You-- that could have killed you. You could have almost died.” She felt heavy, heavy and panicked. What the hell would she have done if Luce died? Would she even have known? She was out of her depths here, wasn’t she? In this world full of magic and ghosts and near death experiences lurking around every fucking corner. What the hell could she do? She didn’t know anything? “I’m-- Fuck. I’m glad she’s back. I’m really glad she’s back. You deserve to have your sister, but you could have-- God. You could have died.” She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t deserve an explanation just because I could feel your emotions. Anyone with eyes could tell that you weren’t doing okay. If you tell me anything, it should be because you want to.” She looked at Luce, finally. “I’m not the same person, either.” She wasn’t the same person after the first time she’d been possessed, and then she’d been ripped out of her body, and now she was put back together, but was she really? She’d never be the same. None of them were ever the same.

Luce wasn’t sure if admitting to her fuck ups out of guilt made her better than anyone-- if she was any kind of good person, she wouldn’t have used Nadia and Remmy like that. If she was a good person, she wouldn’t have fucked with their feelings; literally, in Nadia’s case. Shrugging, she shook her head. “Nah. You’re entitled to keep your secrets. I know what it’s like, sort of.” She said, gesturing to herself. “Witch, remember?” Luce said, a slight hint of a sarcastic smile playing at the edge of her lips.

But, it vanished when she saw the expression on Nadia’s face, watched her fingers lift for a moment. Luce swallowed, eyes focusing on the marble of the countertop. The fractal scars that ran across her chest, marking where the lightning had flowed through her veins, they ached at the memory of that night. She pressed a hand against her collar bone, more to remind herself that her heart was still beating than anything else. “It’s alright.” It wasn’t alright. “I’m okay.” She wasn’t okay. As Nadia continued to speak, Luce blinked, surprised and startled by the other woman’s shaky tone. “I could have, but I didn’t. We did what we needed to do and I don’t regret that.” She said. And if there was some part of her that wondered if maybe she should have died, if the pain and death she’d brought into the world would have been stopped, she did her best to push those thoughts aside. She didn’t want Nadia to feel those. She didn’t even want to feel those. “I do. Want to tell you these things. Not just because you deserve answers, but,” Luce paused and shook her head, letting out a sigh as she did so. “I don’t know. I just wanted to tell you. I’ve fucked up a lot by not talking about things.” At the other woman’s admission, Luce glanced over at Nadia and saw she was looking back at her, their eyes meeting for a moment. “And that’s alright. I can't imagine someone going through that and just… popping out as the same person they used to be.”

“Exactly, you’re entitled to your secrets, too,” Nadia said. She gave Luce a slight smile. “It’s not a competition, and you can’t blame yourself for whatever I felt coming off of you. You’re allowed to feel things, even bad things, around me.” She didn’t quite know how to do this, talk about this. It was out of her comfort zone. Anything to do with her own feelings was out of Nadia’s comfort zone, and this whole situation wasn’t helping that. Luce had almost died. She’d almost died, and Nadia had almost died-- had technically been dead-- and everything was fucked, wasn’t it? Luce had almost died. That was kind of a big hang up for Nadia, at the moment. She swallowed tightly as Luce said she was okay, and Nadia wanted to contradict her, but she just wasn’t good at that, not here, not like this. “I’m glad you did what you had to, and I’m glad you saved your sister, and I’m, like, really, really glad you didn’t die.” And maybe if she wished that it could’ve gone any other way, if she wished that Luce hadn’t been hurt in the process, then the fact that she was just relieved that Luce was alive could maybe make up for it. “I want you to know that you can tell me things,” Nadia said quietly. And I want to tell you things, too, but I’m so fucking bad at it unless I just blurt it out and have to deal with the consequences. “You can tell me things.” She raised an eyebrow at the other woman. “And you lost your sister, almost died, and resurrected someone. I can’t imagine someone going through all of that and still being the same. It’s okay not to be.”

At Nadia’s words, Luce glanced down at the choker on the counter, the dark black fabric standing in stark contrast with the white countertop. Maybe she was allowed to feel like shit around Nadia, but that didn’t mean she should subject the other woman to her own baggage like that. Listening to the way Nadia’s voice quieted, the concern in her tone, Luce couldn’t help but reach out and gently squeeze the other woman’s hand with her own. Talking sucked, she’d never been good at it. But, if she could… reassure Nadia that she was still here, still standing, she wanted to do that. Rubbing her thumb against the back of the woman’s hand, Luce’s lips pressed together in a thin line as she weighed all the things she wanted to say. I’ve hurt people. I’ve killed them. I liked it. Until I didn’t, only because I lost someone I cared about because of the pain I’ve caused. She didn’t want to put that on Nadia, but… this was like Remmy all over again, wasn’t it? She hadn’t wanted to tell them anything going on in her mind, she’d hidden behind the flimsy excuse that they didn’t deserve more baggage in their life. But Remmy had wanted to know. And Nadia did too. “I’ve done some pretty fucked up things. I’ve hurt a lot of people. Done… worse than hurt them too. And I’m trying to be better than that,” She said, “But a part of me doesn’t regret what I did and I’m trying… to figure out what that means.” Luce eased her grasp on Nadia’s hand, enough that the woman could slip away if she wanted to. She could leave, if she wanted to.

Nadia couldn’t stop herself from squeezing Luce’s hand back. It was almost stupid how comforting holding someone’s hand could be, especially when it was warm. They just stood there, just for a moment, and the silence was deafening. Nadia could hear Luce. Not really; it wasn’t like she was speaking loudly, and it was quiet, whispered in the back of her head and dripping emotion like a faucet that someone forgot to shut off all the way. She got those, sometimes, words that weren’t hers and weren’t really words at all but spoken connections to the things she felt around her. She didn’t like to think about it; if it was what she thought, then it was another level of prying she didn’t want to consider. So she drowned it out. Truthfully, her thoughts were so loud these days that it wasn’t hard. And it was a lot easier when Luce spoke out loud again. Fucked up things. Fucked up things like killing people, maybe. Nadia took a deep breath and nodded her head a bit. 

Where did Nadia draw the line, these days, when it came to fucked up things? Before, she’d been pretty pacifistic. There was always another answer besides murder, hadn’t she told someone that? Death was something that should be avoided. But then she’d settled in here, and she’d been totally unsettled from her life, and now she-- she was responsible for someone’s permanent removal from, well, everything. Cordelia was a shit person, but did she deserve that? Yes. Nadia wanted it. She had to deal with that every night. She removed her hand from Luce’s and moved it to the other woman’s neck instead, her hand lightly ghosting over the scar tissue. “Why did you do it?” she asked. “These fucked up things? Did you have a reason, or was it-- was it just to do it. Because I think there’s a difference.”

The sensation of Nadia’s skin against her own, her hand squeezing softly, it reminded Luce of the last time they’d spoken. But, the touches then had been cautious, tender gestures hidden behind a guise of helping Nadia with her wound. This? Now? It was… different. Real. And that was fucking scary. When the other woman pulled away, Luce swallowed, a lump forming in the back of her throat. She didn’t want to know. She’d chosen to-- but then, Nadia’s fingers were reaching out to skim across the skin of her neck. She could barely feel the sensation, but Luce let her do it all the same. No one had touched the scar that wrapped around her neck, no one. At Nadia’s question, Luce paused. “The first time was because… he stole my sister from me. He destroyed my family and we-- I had the chance to bring her back. And all it would cost me was the man who’d taken her. The second time was-- revenge. Bea wanted it, Nell wanted it, I wanted it too. We were all just so… angry.” Luce cleared her throat, shaking her head free of the memories of that night, when the Hunter had become the hunted. “The next time, I was scared. Scared of losing my sisters after I’d done so much to bring them back. I wanted to protect them.”

Luce paused, bridging her hands together and resting her chin on her hands. “And the last time. I don’t-- I want to say I was protecting people. I want to say that I was doing something right. Because she was a horrible person. She’d kept people trapped in a basement, she was using people, had been using people for so… so long. But I didn’t know that until after. I just knew she was dangerous and when someone,” Some kid, “convinced me that she was too dangerous to live. And I let myself believe them. I let them use me.” Luce bowed her head, forehead pressed against her hands now. “I don’t know if there’s a difference to those things.” It doesn’t change what I’ve done.

Nadia felt Luce’s turbulent emotions give way as she brushed her fingers over the scar before she moved her hand to rest against the other woman’s shoulder. She felt stable, grounded. She nodded her head. “I can understand the first time. That was-- It was a trade, his life for hers, right? And that kind of makes it worth it, if you can get something good from doing something like that.” She closed her eyes tightly. “And revenge, I-- I get revenge. Maybe not like that, but I get revenge.” Satisfaction over watching Cordelia fade, so potent that it drowned out any pain that she’d felt. It was pretty fucking powerful stuff because, Christ, Nadia had been in so much pain. “Fear, too.” As the conversation went on, it was getting harder for her to tell where her emotions stopped and Luce’s started, and she had to work on that, had to figure out whose anger was whose and whose satisfaction and whose guilt and whose pain, like untangling a ball of yarn that had been knotted over time. She needed to socialize more. This probably wouldn’t be so goddamn intense if she learned to control it better. 

Opening her eyes to see that Luce had her head in her hands, Nadia gently tugged on the other woman’s chin. “Hey,” she said, her voice just as gentle. “She was a horrible person.” She knew that Luce believed this, could feel it. “And maybe that’s not an excuse for her to die, but I believe you when you say that she was a horrible person. And, like, the fucking guilt is kind of eating at you,” she said. “It’s not like you killed her and then decided not to think about it ever again. You don’t seem to be taking joy in it.” Nadia came to grinning. She stood in the middle of a convenient store looking down, something like pleasure and joy working it’s way through her system. There was a young man behind a cash register. He was dead. Nadia didn’t even have time to scream before she lost control again. She swallowed. This wasn’t about her. “I think there’s a difference.”

Feeling the way Nadia’s fingertips trailed from her neck one last time to press against her shoulder, it took everything in Luce not to lean into the touch. She didn’t want to put more of this on Nadia than she needed to, she didn’t want to test how much more the other woman could bear. And she wanted to be able to handle the rejection, the disgust and the fear that would come. But… it didn’t. Not in the way that Luce had thought. Nadia… understood? Maybe not on every level, but she could understand to a degree why Luce had done these things, why she’d killed. That was far more than Luce had expected. 

Letting Nadia tilt her head up, Luce looked back up at her for a moment before averting her eyes. Luce wanted to protest, but then she heard the next words. The guilt was… fucking destroying her. She’d been-- for lack of a better word-- haunted by what she’d done that day. She still remembered the way that Lydia had begged for her life, she could still feel the spear in her hand as it pierced through flesh and bone. She still saw the blue flames consume the woman’s flesh when she closed her eyes. “Maybe not now. But I did, at one point.” She said, memories of tormenting Montgomery, making him writhe and burn on the ground. “And I’m not… I don’t want to be like that. Which is why I figured-- that I should tell you. Because this shit, my… issues, they’re fucked up.” I’m fucked up, was what she wanted to say, but that felt real fucking dramatic. “I’m... trying to figure out where the line in the sand is again. It’s just hard when you’ve crossed it so many times.” 

“Now’s kind of what matters, Luce,” Nadia said, letting her eyes fall closed with the other woman’s. She didn’t move her hand, not wanting to pull away unless Luce pushed her. It felt grounding to just touch someone. She rarely felt this present, anymore. Sometimes, Rhiannon would jump on her chest and scare the hell out of her because she’s just been laying there, feeling like she was about to fall through the bed. This was real, this was tangible. “Now is what we live in. Before sucks. And, yeah, okay, you enjoyed it. You don’t still enjoy it. We would both still know if you enjoyed it.” For all of Nadia’s talk about living in the now, in the present, she… wasn’t very good at taking her own advice. But, then again, Nadia had never really taken her own advice. She knew a fucking ton about other people, but when it came to her own shit, she’d never quite figured out how to work through her own problems. But that wouldn’t stop her from trying to help Luce, everything else be damned. 

With a nod, Nadia said, “I’m glad you told me. I’m-- you can tell me whatever, okay? Seriously, anything. I’m not going anywhere.” I couldn’t stand to lose you. I’d like to be around you in any way that I can. Thinking about you aches but in a good way. “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I totally get fucked up shit. Maybe not in the same way, but I fucking get it.” She sighed. “Nothing’s simple, not really. I used to think that everything was super black and white, but, fuck, that was years ago, actual years ago.” Back when she was frustrated by everything and felt like every lie she was ever told, every lie that she knew was a lie, was a slight against her. Back when she thought that justice was real and ghosts weren’t, when fairytales were just fascinating stories and the only thing that could hurt her was cruel actions and crueller words. “Then you find where you want to put your line, what you will or won’t do, and, if you cross it, figure out why before the guilt kills you.”

When Nadia’s hand remained where it was, Luce reached up and pressed her hand against the others, threading their fingers gently together. She wanted her to stay. She didn’t deserve it, didn’t think Nadia should have to deal with her shit. But that mentality-- among all the other mistakes she’d made-- was part of what had cost her Remmy. And she didn’t want to lose Nadia too. “Yeah. Now’s what matters.” Luce echoed. The past was… going to stay with her. The knowledge of just how far she would go, of how terrible she could be? That knowledge was a burden that she would carry for the rest of her life. And maybe she could atone for it. Maybe she could be more than the sum of her parts. She hoped that she could. 

Luce lowered their intertwined hands to the counter, squeezing lightly as the woman spoke. “Thanks. And that goes for you too. Shit. I’ve been… I know I said I wanted to talk, but I didn’t… You’ve been through so much too. You can talk to me about it. I’ll be here.” She said with a nod. She’d be here, as long as Nadia wanted her. She still couldn’t help but wonder if she could have helped Nadia escape sooner if she hadn’t been such a fucking coward. And a part of her knew she’d never shake that thought. But, she wanted to be there for Nadia now. While she could. While they were both here. “Yeah. It’d be nice if things were like that.” She sighed, looking down at the black trails of ink under her skin, all neat lines and crisp edges. All of her art was black and white, clear cut and straight forward, while the world around her operated in shades of grey. “Mhm.” She nodded before glancing back up at Nadia. “I…” I’m sorry. I wish I could have saved you. I don’t want to lose you again. I’ve never known how to tell people the things I’ve said to you and that’s scary. I’m so fucking scared of you and for you and of what that means. Her eyes flicked to the clock and she let out a soft curse in Turkish. Time had gotten away from her. It’d been doing that, lately. “It’s, it’s kinda late to be driving. Did you-- you can stay, if you want.” Please still want to. Please still want me.

It would never stop being comforting, Nadia thought, the warmth of Luce’s hand in hers. And maybe it was just that she was fucking touch starved, that she was desperate for any sort of contact. But she didn’t really think that was the case. She liked Luce, way more than she should, way more than felt safe, sometimes, seeing as where they’d started, the boundaries put in place. Because Nadia was an idiot with things like this. She’d allowed this… whatever it was to keep going, and she’d genuinely started caring about Luce, and now she couldn’t stop. It was one of those big fears, up there losing herself again. She was scared of coming off as clingy, had been called that one too many times before, didn’t want to go through that again. But she couldn’t really help it as she rubbed her thumb against Luce’s hands. She craved warmth like a cat seeking out a patch of sunlight. She knew this. It was damning.

“I know,” Nadia said, giving Luce a sad smile. “I swear, as soon as I figure out what the hell to even talk about, I’ll tell you, if you want, okay?” Because where the hell to even begin about all of this, right? Hey, so, I’m not really sleeping, which is saying something because I didn’t sleep much before, but I’m so goddamn tired, and I still feel like she’s there, hanging out in the back of my head even though I watched them destroy her, and I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what I did, and my guilt’s killing me, too, you just can’t feel it like I feel yours. That was a lot to unpack. That was a lot to say. Nadia didn’t know how to get those words. “God, I’d love for something to be simple,” she murmured, more to herself than to Luce. She was startled a bit by Luce bringing up the time, looking out the window and seeing that it was late. Which, yeah, she could drive back. She was a big girl. So she said, “I want, yeah, actually. I’d, uh, really like that.”

The way Nadia looked at her, the way her hand pressed against her own-- Luce swallowed, trying to keep her emotions in check. But, that expression on her face… hurt. Nadia had been through so much. She’d been through so much in the last year alone, not to mention everything in her past. She’d been possessed, exorcised, possessed, exorcised-- that kind of trauma, it couldn’t be easy to deal with. It was a burden that Luce couldn’t fathom. In the same way she could never understand what Remmy had lost, what Bea had lost; there were so many things that she couldn’t understand. But she wanted to try. She wanted to try and-- help. For once in her life, she wanted to do something good for someone other than herself. She wanted to be someone the people around her deserved. A good sister. A good person. A good… whatever she was to Nadia. “I’ll always listen.” She said with a nod before tugging Nadia’s hand. “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good. C’mon.” She said and tugged gently at Nadia’s hand, leading her back to her room. 

After they’d settled down in bed, Luce pushed back a lock of Nadia’s hair from her face, eyes cautious even as she stared at the other woman. Words, unspoken, remained in the back of her mind. I’m glad you’re here. I wish I could have done more. I wanted to be there for you, I want to be here for you now. I want to be someone you can rely on. Someone worthy of… anything. Of you. Of this. Those were all the things she wanted to say. Instead, Luce offered a crooked smile. Ignoring the way her heart seemed to stutter-step in her chest, she leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against Nadia’s temple. “Night.”

[humanmoodring-retired]

Season’s Yeetings Pt. 2 || Blanche, Connor, Cordelia, Nadia, Regan, and Kaden

TIMING: Present  PARTIES: @harlowhaunted @connorspiracy @humanmoodring @kadavernagh @chasseurdeloup  SUMMARY: Another exorcism. The stakes are higher, and Nadia’s life hangs in the balance. feat Mav the Exorcist CONTENT: Self harm, suicide attempt (possession-driven)

Nadia had stabbed herself. She’d stabbed herself, and all she could really do was look down at her hands wrapped around the knife’s handle. She blinked, shock setting in faster than pain. She didn’t even feel it, really. Really. She looked up, trying to see Regan or Blanche or Connor or even Mav, but the only person she could focus on was the woman in the circle with her. Had she always been this blurry. No wonder she thought the red headed figure looked like Brooke an embarrassing number of times. This was Cordelia Gregory, and she was cruel, and she’d made Nadia stab herself. She’d stabbed herself. It was startling to her, just a little. She’d never expected Cordelia to make her stab herself. She’d never taken the threats Cordelia had made to others about killing Nadia seriously. She wasn’t worried about herself. She was worried about her friends, people that Cordelia had proven time and time again that she had no problem in hurting. She actually seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from it.

“Move your foot against the chalk line and let me out of the fucking circle,” Cordelia whispered in Nadia’s ear, attempting to put her hand on Nadia’s face (her face it was still hers, goddammit). “Let me out of the fucking circle, and you might live. Right? You might live. We’ll both live! We’ll-- I’ll leave you alone, just let me out!” The last word was a shriek, causing the power to go out in the apartment complex. All this stupid girl had to do was let her out.

“No.” Nadia wasn’t a fool. Not anymore. She wasn’t letting this woman, this bitch that had tormented her for years out just so that she could go after someone else. Nadia Diaz was going to be Cordelia Gregory’s last victim, for better or for worse. Cordelia’s rage, something that she was intimately familiar with, was incredible to see as the face in front of her contorted with it. Nadia grinned back at the poltergeist, a savage sort that wasn’t an expression she normally made but, fuck, it felt good. For just a second, she allowed herself to hate Cordelia, to be glad that she was taking her down. This had been years in the making. She watched Cordelia reach down and grab Nadia’s hands, and she felt herself drag the knife up and out, her hands throwing the knife out of the circle. Nadia couldn’t help the sound that came out of her mouth. Fuck. That-- That wasn’t supposed to happen, right? Things weren’t supposed to be removed like that. Nadia fell to her knees, her hands moving to try and replace the knife with pressure. “Hurr--” She swallowed the word. Hurry. They needed to hurry.

Regan knew enough medical terminology and jargon to immediately recognize the Latin chanting. The book she had borrowed from Blanche mentioned this would likely happen -- apparently, situations like this called for Latin or other ancient languages, though she didn’t completely understand what the purpose of it was. It didn’t matter at this point. Dissecting everything that happened and was happening and would happen wasn’t going to do Nadia any favors, and this was about Nadia, not her own need for logic and sense. She pulled away as Blanche inched in closer to her, not willing to stand within whispering distance. “Yes?” She said impatiently, not taking her eyes off of Nadia, “Good. He had better know what he’s doing. Kaden said he found the best. Failure is not an option.” If Blanche was trying to communicate something else to her, she wasn’t receptive to hearing it.

Regan pushed herself closer to the central circle as Nadia’s trembling grew more fierce, worse than the most frightened patients she had ever encountered in the ER. But it wasn’t just fear. Something was happening to her. Inside of her. Pinpricks of sweat glistened on her skin and the sputtering of nerves shook her body even harder like she was being wrenched in half. Nadia’s face twisted and tore in several directions, her hand slowly drifting behind her, and-- a scream. Nadia’s. The lights flickered, off more than on, but Regan kept her eyes pinned to her friend. Was there a way to help? Any way? She knew she was instructed to just wait, to be there as moral support and in the event of an emergency, but how was she supposed to know the point of intervention? The blood drained from Nadia’s face, her lips skinned back in pain, and as the lights flicked on once more, she caught the glint of a knife near Nadia’s throat.

“Stop!” Regan screamed back, barreling toward the circle, stopping short just at its precipice. The lights shattered, flickering no more. She knew Blanche was probably behind her, trying to stop her, but her singular focus was on Nadia and getting that knife out of her hands. “Put it down! Now! You’re going to--” But it was too late. Nadia’s hand moved in one fluid motion, knife traveling from her neck, into her gut. Her eyes took in every movement of the knife, the way it sliced and the twist of Nadia’s wrist, how deep it went, the way the hilt pressed right up against her shirt. Everything was blurred and chaotic, moving simultaneously too fast and too slow. For a second, life stilled as Regan’s insides crushed with grief that she couldn’t reach Nadia in time. Her friend looked up to her, no longer shaking, an eerie calmness on her face, her eyes swollen and sad. Blood soaked into her shirt, spreading through fabric like a drop of ink in water, more pulsing out with each beat of her heart. Regan could see Nadia’s breathing, slow and harsh, growing weaker by the second. Too slow. Too harsh. Too weak.

And next to Nadia was the redhead. The same one Regan had met in this very apartment months ago, and the same one that had treated Nadia’s body like some horrible puppet and plaything ever since. This was the person who nearly murdered Kaden and herself, and who had committed countless crimes to countless others. And now, she wanted to murder Nadia. There was so much Regan wanted to say to Cordelia and say to Nadia right now, but she could only move and act. Regan bolted to break the circle, not wasting a second as Nadia collapsed. There was no time to talk. She was a doctor. That was part of why she was here. It was time to be a doctor. Her lungs tightened, something dark lurking inside of them -- a scream for Nadia that she was on the very edge of sounding. She needed to help her, to staunch the blood before all of it spilled across the floor, her life with it.

Blanche wished she hadn’t spoken at all. She realized the error she had made instantly. Cordelia wasn’t above taking Nadia down with her. If she couldn’t have her body, no one could. Blanche’s gaze was glued to the knife as she watched it plunge into Nadia’s gut. Her own stomach seized, remembering the long knife that had gone into her own skin. Instinctively, she took a step forward, as if to go help, when she remembered one of the most important things she read about exorcisms. The circle can’t be broken. Blanche froze on the spot, her eyes snapping to Regan. “Regan, don’t!” Blanche cried. Cordelia would be free to leave and free to torment Nadia or some other unsuspecting victim another day. She acted quickly. With a fluid motion she dropped the shotgun and was stepping forward. A familiar pain seared across Blanche’s forehead, her mind protesting the use of her power. She didn’t care, though. Her energy reached Regan, ranking her back harshly away from the exorcism. Blanche backed up, looking over her shoulder towards the door.

“K-Kaden!” Blanche screamed, “We need you!! Now! Please!” Her voice cracked slightly with the panic, her head splitting from the sudden force of energy and from Regan’s screeching. No sooner did the hunter appear in the doorway, did Blanche throw Regan at him. She tried to be lighter this time, but she didn’t think she did a very good job - it was powered with adrenaline and she had never had to throw a friend on purpose before. She could apologize later, though. “Keep her there so she doesn’t break the circle!” Blanche ordered shakily. She rushed forward to the edge of the circle now, on the other side of Mav, her gaze trained on Cordelia. “I’m sure this doesn’t need to be said,” Blanche said to Connor, though her eyes never left Cordelia’s form. A seething hatred erupted in her, and wasn’t able to bury it away this time. Thoughts of empathy were replaced with raw fury, and in this moment, Blanche was going to enjoy her existence being eradicated. Later, maybe not. But now? She was pissed. “We need to get a move on before Nadia bleeds out. Let’s go.”

Waiting outside the door was awful. Kaden tried to play out what he thought was happening behind him as he waited. It would be fine. Mav knew what he was doing. Nadia would be fine. Then there was screeching and the sound of glass shattering. Banshee screeches, no mistaking them. It was probably just Regan seeing something supernatural. It would be fine. This was going to be fine. But it didn’t stop. And he heard Blanche screaming, too; screaming his name. Fuck.

Kaden turned and burst through the door. Before Blanche could explain, he saw exactly what was happening. Regan was heading towards Nadia. She was going to break the circle. No. This wasn’t-- He darted towards her, glass crunching beneath his feet as he rounded the circle. He practically threw himself at Regan, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back. With her held tight, he saw it. He finally saw it. The reason why Regan was willing to risk the entire exorcism. He saw the knife in Nadia’s side. The pool of blood on the floor around her. “No.” This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t what was supposed to-- “No!” he shouted, not sure who it was even directed to anymore. His grip nearly loosened and he considered running towards her himself. “We can’t. We can’t. Regan, we have to wait. She won’t--” She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t. Regan hadn’t screamed. If there was anyone Regan would fucking scream for, it was Nadia.

But it struck him that there was still time, she could still unleash a death scream right here, right now in this room. And even if she knew how to hold it back by now, Kaden was sure she wouldn’t be able to. Not for Nadia. And he would be here with his arms around her while she screamed. Just long enough for his lungs to explode and his heart to burst. Any sane person would let go. He gripped her tighter, kept her away from the circle. Nadia wasn’t dying. Not today. He was sure of it. He had to be sure of it. He had to hold onto that hope, even if it was stupid and foolish. One thing in this fucking town had to go right for once. “Nadia. Hold on. You have to-- Regan, tell her what to do from here.” He didn’t need to tell Mav to hurry it the fuck up. He was sure the exorcist could figure out that this was a dire situation. And the last thing they needed to do was break his concentration.

It wasn't the glass that made Mav flinch, you didn't work as long as he had in the exorcism business without getting used to picking a few stray pieces of broken lightbulbs from your mustache every now and again. No, it was that scream. It was a hell of a sound. He wondered if having this here banshee with them was a good idea. Lucky for them, his removal ritual wasn't necessary no more so the interruption wasn't a complete disaster. Thankfully, he didn't need to tell anyone not to let the banshee cross the circle, the tiny medium made sure of that. He was real glad she was tougher than she looked and more than worth her salt. The last thing they needed was to risk this poltergeist getting out of the dang circle. He was already going to struggle to destroy her spirit for good, they didn’t need any more complications, considering this whole exorcism was going tits up darn fast.

Ms Diaz had returned to her body and he felt the poltergeist leave that very same body before he’d even finished his ritual. Mav reckoned that was on account of the stabbing she did to the body. He figured they didn’t have a whole lot more time to work. He was going to need every last bit of energy he could find to make this go in their favor. As soon as he’d finished his phrase, he shifted as seamlessly as he could manage into the second half of his plan. The chain of energy he was channeling stopped pulling on the spirit and started to wrap around the poltergeist. He was going to use it to constrict her, pull tighter and tighter until there was nothing left, like a lasso tugged too tight or a snake squeezing the life out of its prey. He hoped the young exorcist beside him could keep up, but he seemed like he was quick as a whip and there was no room for doubt. Not when Ms Diaz’s life hung in the balance. He gripped the young man’s shoulder as objects started to fly around the room. This spirit was mad as a mule chewing bumblebees and he was going to need all the help he could muster to pool this energy and rid the world of this poltergeist.

The whole situation was chaos. As soon as Connor managed to react to one thing, the next impending disaster reared its ugly head. He wanted to scream for Nadia, to yell at that horrible fucking poltergeist to get the hell away from her, but it was too late. Knife had ripped flesh, and she was bleeding. He'd seen on TV that stomach wounds were a slow and painful way to die. They had time, but not much of it. He increased his chanting, urgent and desperate. His eyes met Blanche with desperation as she took care of whatever that screaming woman was (definitely not a moose).

Connor saw it all happening, but he couldn't focus on it. He had to drown it all out. The only thing that mattered right now was Nadia, and saving her meant sending this fucking arsehole poltergeist to hell. He squeezed Mav's wrist, letting the energy flow through them more easily, and he looked to Blanche, communicating with her with only his eyes and the extension of his other hand. He couldn't stop the ritual. He couldn't stop chanting, but he needed Blanche to take his arm too. The hunter and the other woman were more difficult, but Connor knew that he and Mav needed all the energy they could get. Cordelia was strong, determined, and a real fucking bitch. Word after word after word, he focused everything he had on her, his focal point beginning to burn hot beneath his fingertips as he used it as a conduit.

She was getting weaker. Connor could feel it. He looked at Mav again, the two of them speaking wordlessly. They were close. But that would only make Cordelia more desperate. He was almost screaming the ritual at her now, every atom in his body telling her to get the fuck out.

“Hey!” Cordelia screamed over the madness, the breaking glass and flying objects, looking straight at the banshee as she was only just being restrained by Kadie. “If you break this circle, you can save her! She might have a chance! But if you let these fuckers do their bullshit, she will go down with me.” She felt her form flickering as the exorcism took hold. This wasn’t like the last time. Hell, it wasn’t even like the first time, when she’d found herself thrown from Nadia’s body for who even knew how long, existing only in the ether as she’d reformed herself to try again. This hurt. This made her put her hands over her ears and scream. She lashed out and sent some little statue that had been on the coffee table flying, shattering it against a wall. “Let me out or I’ll fucking kill her! Let me out or I’ll fucking kill her!” She tried to pull the knife back into the circle but only succeeded in sticking it into a wall. Fuck. Fuck.

Just keep pressure on it. Just keep pressure on it. Nadia kept repeating the words to herself even as the chanting and screaming got louder. She just needed to hold on until Cordelia was dealt with, and then whatever happened would happen. Just keep putting pressure on it. However, Cordelia begging Regan to break the circle forced her to look up, panicked. No. If anyone might break it, it would be Regan. She didn’t understand what was at stake. Regan couldn’t possibly understand that getting rid of Cordelia was the only important thing in this whole situation. And Nadia couldn’t blame her, she’d probably be losing her shit if one of her friends was hurt, but this was bigger than her. She was one person. Cordelia could ruin countless lives; she probably already had. She needed to go. “I’m fine,” she choked out, locking eyes with Kaden over Regan’s shoulder. Don’t let her go. “I’m not going to die, yet.” And she fucking wasn’t. Not until this bitch was dealt with.

Regan wasn’t sure what happened -- it was all a confusing blur. She had surged toward Nadia, scream rattling in her chest, but in only a split second, she was yanked in the other direction, air forced from her lungs in a loud screech. Blanche was shouting something; she heard Kaden’s name, but her thoughts were only on Nadia as she watched her friend’s blood continue to pool as she grew paler and trembled and struggled to keep herself upright. The door was thrown open and she felt something wrap tightly around her, pulling her like gravity just as the invisible vice around her dissipated. Another scream jumped out of her, but as she realized it was arms encircling her, she choked everything back. Who-- Kaden. It was Kaden. The noise thundered like a storm in her chest, but she kept it locked in, holding it inside of her lungs like the casket’s dark water, even as it demanded to be emptied. Even so, some of it managed to escape in desperation as she yelled, “Kaden. Let me go. Kaden let me go. Nadia is dying. Nadia is dying, she stabbed herself, you need to let me go right now. Nadia is going to die. She’ll die if she doesn’t stop the bleeding.” Regan’s tongue felt weak and out of place as she spoke those words. Nadia dying had been a possibility, but not one that she wanted to actually, truly allow herself to believe. And while she could feel Kaden’s arms loosen for just a moment, they latched back around her. Her lungs fought against his grip for a second, but they quickly deflated.  

Cordelia drifted toward the edge of the circle as everything shook and shattered around them, her sharp eyes meeting Regan’s as they darkened again. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether or not she was hallucinating the way Cordelia seemed to be there one moment and gone the next as the chanting crested. But Cordelia was right, in her sick, twisted way. Regan’s top priority was saving Nadia’s life, and whatever agenda Cordelia had -- escaping? -- didn’t matter at this moment. They could worry about that later, when Nadia was alive and healthy. As Kaden’s grip only tightened, she understood that no one else seemed to share that goal, and she was struck with far more frustration and fear than she was allowed. “Don’t touch her! Stay away from her, don’t touch her! I’m not going to let you hurt her!” Regan screamed, barely holding back. Kaden. She couldn’t do that again. Not with Kaden right there. She dug her nails into her palm, feeling the blood pool through bandages. You cannot afford yourself emotion. For every bit of feeling you react to, you surrender yourself to the mercy of your screams. Deirdre would have been appalled by all of this. False calmness swam over her, but her heart couldn’t lie -- it still beat twice as quickly as it usually did.

Tell her what to do. “Nadia,” Regan said, her voice trembling. She wasn’t sure if the remaining glass shattering was because of her, or Cordelia. The marmot statue, too. It was unacceptable. Dangerous. Not doing Nadia or Kaden or anyone any good. When Regan spoke again, the quiver vanished. “You’ve already pulled the knife out. That’s-- that isn’t good. Someone needs to grab a towel from the kitchen or remove their shirt and pass it to Nadia. Shirt is faster. Nadia, lie flat on the ground and press the shirt to the wound. Do everything that you possibly can to maintain consciousness. Listen to someone’s voice and use it as an anchor. Keep talking. Talk to me.” Her voice flattened with despair despite her best attempts to snuff it out, “Kaden, please let me go. Please. Whatever they’re doing, I don’t think it’s going to be fast enough.”

“If I let you go she’ll die! We can’t!” Kaden kept his arms wrapped tight around Regan, despite her protests. If she screamed now, he’d have no idea if it was for Nadia or for himself. And he wasn’t sure it would fucking matter one way or another. He shut his eyes and held fast. It was all he could do. Brace them both against whatever was happening in that circle in front of them. He couldn’t see much even with his eyes open. As a scream tore through her, he winced and gripped her tighter. Tears pricked at his eyes and his own scream ripped through his throat that he couldn’t hear as the sound resonated through him. This was it. This was how he’d die. Not hunting. Not in the woods. In his friend’s apartment holding back a banshee. Hold on. He just had to hold on. Relief didn’t come when the sound stopped. The ringing didn’t stop either. He wanted to check to see if his ears were bleeding, he was pretty sure he felt the familiar dripping down his earlobe, but he didn’t let go of her; he wouldn’t. Muffled sounds came from in front of him that sounded like her voice, but he couldn’t make out a single word she was saying. Not yet. He didn’t dare let up on her. “Hold on, Nadia,” he said, locking eyes with her. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. He turned to face the exorcists, watching closely for any sign for when this would end. “Blanche!” he called out to her, though he couldn’t regulate his own volume. He hoped she could hear him. “Tell me when. The second it’s done. Somehow.” He hoped she could. But he wouldn’t let go of Regan until he knew for sure that the exorcism was over, when he knew Cordelia was banished forever.

It was hard not to get distracted by the sound of Regan screaming, especially how the loud scream rattled around in Blanche’s head. She was glad she wasn't the one chanting, even as she forced herself to stay rooted to the spot as she saw all the blood pour out of Nadia’s wound. A wave of nausea overtook her just as she met Connor’s gaze, and even as her skin tinged green, she was able to force the horrible feeling back as she gripped Connor’s hand tightly. It was hard to explain, but the second she did, she felt the power leeching from her, pouring into the exorcism. She heard Kaden yell to her, and could only raise her free hand to show she heard him, closing her eyes tightly as she willed every ounce of energy and power she had to Connor and Mav. She didn't know how this worked, but her seance sessions with Jasmine and whatever witchy-things she had done with Nell told her intention mattered. Even as the image of Nadia’s blood staining the floor hung in the back of her mind, she threw herself into the focus of energy that would ultimately - hopefully - be Cordelia’s undoing.

This here little lady was a tough spirit to banish. She was stubborner than a mule and he got the feeling she had a burr in her saddle. Mav could feel the young exorcist’s energy flowing through him and he felt the burning iron in his hand. He held tight to the chain of the pocket watch, used his words to pull the rope of energy wrapped around the spirit tighter and tighter. They were damn close to sending this spirit back to the hell she crawled out of, he could feel it in his bones. He ducked as a statue went flying towards him. That was a nice try, little lady, but Mav didn’t lose a single syllable of the ritual. He figured this might be about the time in the exorcism where things went all catawampus and objects started flying about. No matter he could handle that. He knew how to dodge a book or two and keep his chin waggling. And he was right. Any loose items on the sides of the room started to go flying every which way and he gave Connor a quick squeeze to let him know to hold fast and carry on with what they were doing. They couldn’t lose sight of the  Just when he thought he was tapped, he felt an extra boost of energy. The mini medium was standing nearby and Connor had grabbed hold of her. All they had to do was pool their energy all together and he could pull this spirit right off the face of the earth.

Connor would have failed at this a thousand times over if not for Mav. It had been foolish to think he could have done this alone. He'd barely been performing exorcisms for a year. How was he supposed to deal with something like this? Cordelia wasn’t living up to her name, because she wasn’t very fucking cordial at all. She was even more evil than he’d originally given her credit for, and he loathed his underestimation of her strength. Maybe if he’d taken her more seriously, they wouldn’t have got to this point, but it was too late now. He needed to focus on the task at hand, not the ones he’d already failed. Cordelia clung on, a parasite desperately trying to cling to the world, and only so she could use it for violence.

As much as Connor tried to drown out what was happening with Kaden and the wailing banshee, he couldn’t block out the screams, couldn’t block out the blood, the desperate instructions that would save Nadia’s life. Or so he hoped. He mentally cursed; at himself, at Cordelia, at this whole mess of a situation. Connor had barely even taken Blanche’s hand, but the surge of energy that flowed through him into Mav was enough for the moment. It had to be.

Connor didn’t stop changing, but he let go of Blanche’s hand to pull one sleeve of his shirt off, slipping the unfastened plaid down over his arm, then he replaced one hand on Mav’s arm with another so he didn’t have to break contact, slipping the rest of it off and leaving him in just the plain white t-shirt underneath. He had to be careful not to move the salt when he placed it into the circle, putting it within Nadia’s reach and silently praying that it would work. They just needed to slow the bleeding. They were almost there. He took Blanche’s hand again and looked up at Mav, who was massively taller than Connor’s slight frame. His eyes practically begged him for this to be over soon.

This was it, Cordelia realized with an unnerving amount of certainty as the words echoed through her core, through her entire being, rattling her from within. She looked down at herself, watching as she faded in and out of existence. Existence. This was it. She was going to just… stop existing. Like she’d never been here at all. She screamed out again, against the pain of it. She’d never felt anything like this when she’d been alive, not in Nadia’s body, and not in her own. Death had hurt less. She dropped to her knees, sinking a bit into the floorboards, in front of Nadia Diaz. Cordelia put her hands on the girl’s face, her neck, trying to absorb herself back into Nadia’s skin, even as the exorcists’ words sent another tremor through her, causing her to flicker like bad tv reception. “Please,” she said, eyes wild with fear. “Please. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die again.” She didn’t want to stop existing. She didn’t want to disappear into nothingness. This wasn’t how her story was supposed to end.

Jerking away from the spectre in front of her, Nadia reached out with blood soaked fingers for the shirt Connor had passed into the circle. She pressed it hard to the wound in her stomach, trying to use the feeling to ground her. “I’m fine,” she managed to say to Regan, though she didn’t think she could keep up a steady stream of monologue. This is me pressing down on the wound. This is me trying not to stare at the ghost in front of me. She’s gotten really easy to see, now, actually. Is that normal? Should I be worried? It’s probably fine. Talking was too hard, at the moment. She’d try again, later, after all of this was over and she could sleep. Fuck, Nadia was tired. She was so tired. But she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t even lay down like Regan instructed because she knew she’d lose consciousness. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. The fight seemed to be leaving Cordelia, the ghost all frantic screams and icy cold touches against Nadia’s skin, but Nadia felt like she was fading just as quickly. Eyes open, Diaz, she told herself. She pressed harder, the shirt staining in blood as she curled forward, still resting on her knees. She’d have to buy Connor a new shirt.

When Nadia didn’t react to her, Cordelia seethed, jerking at the girl’s arms and pushing her in an attempt to get a reaction. “Don’t ignore me! I know you see me!” she howled, a last ditch effort for attention. Nothing was working, not her hands frantically trying to pull Nadia’s away from the wound, not her abilities to throw objects against walls and people. She was drained, spent, unravelling. Not that there was much left of her to unravel. She was the last bit of string on an empty spool. “You’ll die, too, you stupid, stupid bitch,” she snarled, getting in Nadia’s face one last time. “They won’t finish in time to save you. You’re going to be right back where you started. They can’t save you. You can’t even save yourself.” Cordelia managed to grip Nadia’s arm, her fingers only slightly sinking into soft skin. She looked into Nadia’s face, practically bloodless, and she felt a brief sense of satisfaction amidst all the panic and fear and blinding anger, knowing that she’d be the end of Nadia Diaz’s life, even if it meant the end of her own.

“Vete pa la puñeta,” Nadia said quietly to the poltergeist in front of her, looking Cordelia in her pale, flickering eyes. Go to hell. Though, Cordelia wasn’t going anywhere. There’d be nowhere for her to go. She’d be gone, nothing more than a lot of bad, bad memories and scars on the people that she’d hurt. She’d be nothing more than the cause of blood on Nadia’s hands. Cordelia was barely even there anymore, her form appearing and disappearing as she barely clung to Nadia, to life. But she didn’t seem like she could hold on anymore.

With a final scream, Cordelia felt herself slipping away despite the way she tried to wrap her fingers around Nadia’s heart, her soul. She looked at herself as she disappeared. It didn’t feel like dying. It wasn’t even painful, anymore. It felt like absolutely nothing at all, and, after clinging to life far after her expiration date, nothing at all is what Cordelia Gregory became.

Eyes shut tightly, Nadia sagged forward, unable to hold herself up properly as Cordelia vanished. For good. She was gone for good, and Nadia was still there, still in her body, though she felt herself fading fast. Far too fast. Still, she felt… relief. Cordelia was gone. She’d never hurt anyone ever again. Nadia would be her last victim, and that made her feel warm, even though her body was freezing. She heard noises, people moving around her, but she couldn’t bring herself to raise her head. Too much effort. “I’m fine,” she muttered because, really, she couldn’t feel much pain, not anymore. She was fine, even though there was a lot of blood. She needed-- jerking her head up, she looked at Regan, her eyes panicked and her vision fuzzy around the edges. “No hospitals,” she said, her voice sounding distorted in her ears. That was all she could manage to say, then she fell forward again, and Nadia Diaz knew nothing more.

“We have to! She’ll die! She’ll die!” Regan shouted, trying her best not to let an outburst become a scream. She couldn’t tell how successful she was, but Kaden was still clinging onto her, nearly choking her, and as she turned and saw blood dripping down from her boyfriend’s ears, her heart choked, too. She knew she couldn’t risk saying anything more; she needed to think only of the numb nothingness of the clearing, the improbable calmness she now held as she forced herself into the water. But Nadia. Nadia was-- Regan tried desperately to pry Kaden’s hands away from her, barely noticing as Connor supplied his shirt and Cordelia’s howls grew more and more frantic. Something was happening. She didn’t understand it, and right now, didn’t concern herself with wanting to. The only thing that mattered was that it could result in her being able to get to Nadia. She didn’t ease up, though -- she kept trying to slip out and fight her way toward the circle, her eyes never leaving the growing pool of blood underneath her friend. Nadia claimed to be fine even as there was no more white on the shirt and even as her face blanched more with each passing second.

The room stormed around them. Cupboards slammed open, furniture dragged itself across the floor, and as the chanting grew louder, Cordelia’s desperation and cries surged like lightning. Cordelia had pounced for Nadia’s neck like a viper, and Regan -- trapped in Kaden’s arms as she struggled, unable to even scream a warning -- had never felt more useless. This wasn’t what she thought would happen. They were here to save Nadia, right? Shouldn’t that have been the priority? Why was this in question? Why-- but in the blink of an eye, Cordelia was no more, dissipating like insubstantial mist. The room changed, the drop in pressure palpable as everything seemed to still. And Nadia, Regan realized as terror engulfed her, stilled, too.

Kaden’s arms grew slack. Regan didn’t think. She tore out of them and sprinted toward the inner circle, where Nadia lay unconscious on the ground, blood still rushing from the wound in her abdomen. No hospitals? Fuck that. She wouldn’t-- Nadia-- she wouldn’t let her die. That wasn’t a wish that she would respect if her life was on the line. The bleeding was catastrophic, and unless they stopped it soon, Nadia would not make it out of here alive.

Regan scrambled for the bloodied shirt and pressed it tight against the wound, Nadia’s blood soaking through to her fingers, burning her skin to blisters. It hurt, but Deirdre had prepared her well, and she would stay there like this for hours if necessary. Anything. “I need help. Someone needs to roll her onto her back while I apply pressure. The stab wound runs all the way through her.” Regan didn’t dare ease off the wound, but she checked Nadia’s pulse -- rapid -- and her skin -- cold, clammy -- and knew controlling the bleeding was only the beginning. “She’s in shock. She may be unresponsive; I need to do a sternal rub to check. Kaden, grab me the hemostatic dressing from the kit. Once you bring them, I need you to place your hands where mine are and do not ease up. Blanche, get a blanket and towels. Connor, get my phone from the kitchen and call--” she hesitated, “Call Dr. Lin-King. Tell her I’ll explain later.”

In the end, Cordelia begged for her life, unhinged and desperate with fear. It was hard for Blanche not to see the parallels with Constance Cunningham, the other red haired poltergeist that had yet to vacate her mind since her undoing the previous week. Resentment and self-hatred rose in her, stifling everything but the surge of power in her fingertips. She gripped Connor’s hand tighter, as if to anchor herself down to this spot. It was heartbreaking to see how the outcome of Constance and Cordelia’s situations didn’t change anything, even when she changed her actions. A soul was destroyed, eradicated from existence forever. Maybe Cordelia deserved it -- maybe there was some part of her that knew Constance did too, though she would sooner willingly light herself on fire than admit that -- but Blanche couldn’t help but circle back to the disappointment and anger she felt in herself and at the world as she saw the pieces of Cordelia’s soul fade away with her final screams, her furious fear clinging to the air, rattling around loosely in Blanche’s mind. Soon Blanche wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the screams that haunted her - rage and resentment would echo and she would wonder whose it was. Constance Cunningham? Coredelia Gregory? Maybe even a glimpse of Lauren Langley?

How many memories of destroyed spirits would be left behind in her mind before Blanche went insane? It was a cold thought, and it was that thought, not Regan barking orders at her, that snapped her back to reality. Realizing she was still clutching Connor’s hand in a death grip, she let it go and went to go search for what Regan asked her for. Admittedly, she hadn’t been listening, but she could guess what she needed. Towels. Something to cover Nadia, who was bleeding out on the floor. Nadia, whose life was in danger again because of a ghost who was too afraid to just die.

Blanche realized then what she wanted to say to Cordelia, though it was more than too late. A reminder that dying was probably the easiest thing any of them would ever do, masked by the fear of the unknown deluding them all into thinking it was the hardest thing of all. Living was harder, but as Blanche finally found suitable towels bringing them back to Regan, she knew that simply existing was the hardest thing in the world.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

When the Party's Over || Notia and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: A bar PARTIES: @humanmoodring and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Cordelia gets one last chance to live it up. 

Finding an exorcist wasn’t enough. Kaden knew that much. Hell, it was no good if there was no body to work with. That didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to have to deal with this portion of the plan, didn’t want to have to face the body of his friend. So he took a shot at the bar before looking around for Cordelia. He saw what should be a familiar face across the way. Sure, she looked like Nadia, sure, but something was off. The mannerisms, the movements, every inch of her screamed that she was someone else borrowing his friend’s body. He wasn’t sure why he thought there was safety in a public space, but he was hoping there might be some to be found. “Cordelia,” he said, placing a firm grip on her shoulder. “Long time, no see.” His hand closed tighter around her, likely bruising her body, but he wanted to make a fucking point. He was ready to grab her a lot more forcefully if he had to, but hell if he hoped he didn’t have to. “How’s it been, really? I’ve got a few things we need to chat about.”

The bartender was a terrible flirt, just the kind that Nadia knew she could get a drink or two or three out of without having to even start a tab. Not that she’d even got started when she felt a familiar presence behind her and a hand clamping down on her shoulder. She was kind of impressed with Kaden’s forcefulness. He really didn’t see his friend anymore when he looked at her, did he? The room chilled around them, but she shot the bartender a reassuring wink and turned to face Kaden. “Ohmygod, Kadie!” she said, eyes wide with excitement. She was careful not to react to the way he said that name. “It’s so good to see you, really. I’ve just been so busy, I couldn’t fit you into my schedule.” She put her hand on his and dug her nails in a bit to remove it from her shoulder. “A chat? Sure, totally.” She gave him an easy grin, let he know that he didn’t scare her. She was in control here. She was in charge. Especially after everything that had happened with Arthur earlier. “What ya wanna talk about, hot stuff?”

“A lot, actually,” Kaden replied with a smirk. “I’d say I missed you but that’d be a lie. And I’m an honest man. I would never lie to you like that.” The nails in his hand were nothing. If she wanted to inflict pain, she’d have to try harder. Not that he planned to encourage her, this was the same woman who stabbed and shot him. Sill, it wasn’t like he didn’t endure cat scratches on a near daily basis. He hardly even flinched at the pain. In response, he used his other hand to grab her wrist, gripped it tight, but not enough to break any bones. Hopefully she was aware just how easy it would be. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way, Cordelia. But it’s over. Jig is up. Hope you had a good last night but it’s over.”

“Aw, Kadie, you’re hurting my feelings.” Nadia pouted. But she glared at him as his hand went to her wrist. Out. She needed a way out of this. “Is there a third option, maybe?” She looked around the bar. The bartender had moved away, but she was sure he’d come back if she screamed. She should scream. There was a beer bottle in front of her. A plan, half-assed and half-formed, came into her head. “Night’s hardly even begun, babe.” With her free hand, she smashed the beer bottle over Kaden’s hand, and then she started screaming. “Help! Fuck, please help me!” The dim lights in the bar brightened momentarily with her screams before settling back down, and Nadia did her best to pry Kaden’s hand off of her and move away. If she could make it outside, then she could get away, go to the apartment, and regroup. Maybe this was proof that it was time to leave, time to move on to greener pastures. Like the Bahamas. Or somewhere in Europe.

Kaden was prepared for a fight. He knew she wasn’t going to go quietly, as much as he wished that she might. As much as he didn’t want to damage Nadia’s body too much, he would do what he had to in order to get her to come with him. “Shit!” he cursed as soon as she smashed a bottle on him. So much for having one good hand. He clenched his jaw and held tight to her, pushed past the pain, ignored the blood that was pooling on it, and across his hand. It was possible he was going to break her wrist but he wasn’t going to fucking let go, not if he could help it. Shattered glass? Funny that she tried. He was dating a banshee. Shattered glass was nothing new. “Nadia Diaz,” he shouted over her. “You’re under arrest for theft, assault, and attempted homicide.” He pulled out his badge to show the room, just in case, along with his handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” She tried to run, almost slipped from his hand, but he reached out and cuffed her bruised and possibly broken wrist before he continued. ”You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” Say what she wanted, he was still a fucking cop and the badge was real so she could fucking try him. “We can make this easy. Or we can make this hard,” he reiterated, trying to lead her to the door.”

“You really wanna do this?” Nadia gasped out, teeth gritted against the pain in her wrist as Kaden pulled her hands behind her back. “You wanna play the cop card?” What kind of fucking game was this asshole playing, anyway? Arresting her? Sure, whatever. She’d been arrested before. He was doing more harm than good, speaking Nadia’s name and charges out into existence among these people. There was no help to be had, just anticipation and curiosity as the bar’s patrons watched on. The badge seemed to have the same effect in warding people off from helping as salt warded a ghost from a room.. She was alone in this, and it’d be easier to just go with him. “How are you gonna deal with this, huh?” She asked quietly as she let him lead her away, craning her head back to look at him. There was a knife on his belt. She would remember that. “Get your little empath back and what? Now everybody here thinks she’s a murderer. Or did you not think this through?” She went rigid and stopped moving, forcing him to stop as well, however momentary. “Why don’t you just let me go, Langley? Instead of fucking up what’s left of Nadia Diaz’s life?”

“I really don’t but I’ll do what I have to. This is ending, Cordelia. You’re done,” Kaden said in her ear as he led her out of the bar. Shit, it was almost a power trip watching the way part in the club as they made their way to the door. He didn’t normally pull stunts like this and he definitely didn’t normally do this sort of shit as an animal control officer, but no one in that bar needed to know that. He should try this more often. Once they were outside of the bar, he led her to his animal control truck. It wasn’t exactly the same as a traditional cop car, but it looked more official than his personal truck. He really hoped no one questioned him. Because this sure as shit was far from legal. He ran into her back as she stopped short. Putain. “Really? You think you’re the only one clever enough for a con, Cordy?” He huffed out a laugh and continued to escort her to the passenger seat, swinging the door open. “You think I’m actually taking you to jail? Fuck no. You’re going somewhere much worse.” That was probably stupid to show his hands so soon. He didn’t want to have to knock her out but, shit. He was probably going to have to knock her out. Putain.

“It ends when I fucking say it does,” Nadia snarled. He felt so fucking smug. She wanted to jerk her head up into his nose and break it, but she refrained. She wasn’t going to struggle anymore. She’d have to find another way out of this. “I don’t think you have the brain power to pull off a clever con, dumbass. Even if you don’t take me to jail, you’ve outed your pal as a criminal, a murderer. And I have killed quite a few people in this town, just an FYI.” She slammed her shoulder into Kaden’s chest and grabbed the knife while he was distracted. She’d been picking pockets for years. Taking one knife off of a man’s belt was child’s play. Then she all but fell into the passenger seat, turning back to him with a sneer. “You’re going somewhere much worse,” she mocked. “Cry me a fucking river. You can kick me out and put her back in, but I still win, and I can just find someone else, someone better.” She laughed. “Not that you’d notice if I just stayed though, would you? You didn’t notice for months.” She made her eyes soft, her lips pouty. “Mimes, like, totally suck! Of course we’re friends, Kaden! I’ll totally help you look for your girlfriend! Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s gonna be okay!” She let her face go blank. “You’re an idiot. An idiot. For all your claims to know her and care for her, you and everyone else were just as fucking obtuse as her goddamn parents. An emotionally constipated girl that she slept with a handful of times figured it out before all of her little friends. You only found me out because I let you.” Nadia looked at Kaden with pure hate, knife gripped tightly in her hands. But she couldn’t use it. She slipped it into the waistband of her pants instead.

“Sure it does.” Kaden didn’t really feel like arguing with her. It hardly seemed worth it. He wouldn’t have to argue with her for too much longer. “Have I? Really? To one bar, one bartender? I have a feeling that’s not going to matter much. I don’t have any evidence. Really a shame no one was able to hold Nadia. What a trage-” He let out an ouf as she slammed into his chest. He made sure his hold on her didn’t loosen for too long and she didn’t make a run for it. Thankfully, she slid into the passenger seat without too much argument. It was about as good a scenario as he could hope for considering. His face steeled as he watched her try to play him some more. She looked like Nadia but the more she spoke, the clearer it was that this was all Cordelia. “I didn’t notice, you’re right. But I know now. So it doesn’t matter how in the fuck any of found out. Really it was your mistake for not leaving town when you had a chance.” Once, she had been able to use her words to twist his heart, tug on his strings. Not anymore. “You know, you really need to get a new routine. This one’s getting stale.” Too bad she wasn’t going to get a chance. He pulled out a taser before slamming the door and heading around to the driver’s seat. Just in case he couldn’t deal with her bullshit babbling anymore.  

Rolling her eyes, Nadia slumped down into the seat and watched him go to the driver’s side. There it was. Panic. Not his, either, but hers, purely hers. It made her heart beat frantically. Her breath came out in short puffs as the temperature in the car lowered even further. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. It couldn’t. She should have just kicked herself out of Nadia Diaz’s body when she had the chance, left it in a ditch somewhere. But then she wouldn’t have been able to have any fun. She should have left the moment he hurt her wrist and shoved her in the fucking truck, but there was the chance that he would make it back to Nadia in time for her to reclaim her body and, no, she wasn’t going to have that. She wasn’t. Not if she couldn’t get it back, not if it wasn’t hers. She’d put a lot of time and effort into this body, goddammit. She wasn’t going to lose it like this. She’d get rid of it her way or no way at all. “Fuck you,” she said, keeping her eyes on him and the taser, but she didn't say it loudly, and she didn’t struggle. Fine. Let him think that they’d won. Whatever. She couldn’t wait to watch him regret this, even if it was the last thing that she did.

[normallee]

They Were Roommates || Notia and Norma

TIMING: Before Christmas LOCATION: Norma (and Notia’s) Apartment PARTIES: @humanmoodring and @normallee SUMMARY: How to be a Human 101

“Hello, roommate! I have arrived home!” Norma called out as she hung her pirate hat onto the coat rack inside the door. The entire apartment looked bare to her. Nadia had been pairing down her belongings and attempting to make it appear more human. She wasn’t convinced she was doing a very good job but the ghost in a mortal’s body was the authority on these matters. She supposed she’d have to trust them. She stepped inside and looked around some more. “Did you leave Tom on the porch again? That’s not very nice. We need to keep him until Christmas. I heard it, too, requires a turkey. And I cannot imagine having two of them running around.” She went to the sliding glass door and let the turkey back into the apartment. It was big and smelly but she had grown strangely fond of this large feathered creature. Maybe it was because it reminded her vaguely of a shriken. She wasn’t sure. “Are we going to have more lessons today?” she asked. “I have a pen and paper and everything this time. I’ve been told that is what students bring to classes. They also always have gum in order to make bribes of friendship and annoy teachers.” She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a pack, holding it towards her roommate. “Would you like some chewing gum?”

The lack of loud colors in the apartment meant nothing when there was a loud turkey and an equally loud Norma running around, but Nadia had been nursing a cup of coffee long enough that she only flinched a bit when Norma walked in. “Hi, Norma,” she said, a bit too tired for a proper greeting. She wasn’t sleeping much, these days, and… she wasn’t cold, she didn’t get cold, but her body sometimes reacted like it was, shivering for hours before she could get it to stop. She was fine, now, but it came and it went. “Tom?” The fucking turkey. “Oh, yeah! You know, it’s actually proper etiquette that, between the holidays, the holiday turkey is kept out of living spaces. Turkeys need plenty of fresh air, you know. And grass. Keep ‘em inside for too long and they get interior depression.” The turkey thing had been Norma’s idea, sure, but Nadia was rolling with it because, fuck, it was funny. Annoying as hell, but so, so funny. “Yeah, I’m down for more lessons.” They were pretty fun, especially when half the shit that came out of her mouth was made up. Sure, she gave Norma a few good pointers; she didn’t want the woman to get caught and end up killing this body because of some bad advice. “Yes, perfect. It’s always good to take notes. You’ll be quizzed on all of this, later.” She took a stick of gum. “Thank you. See, politeness. A very useful tool.” She popped the gum in her mouth and settled in for the inquisition. “So, what do you wanna know today?”

“Yes, Tom the Turkey. He informed me that was his name through a series of gobbles.” Norma started scribbling notes already as the turkey started to follow her around. “I think he also says that he much prefers the indoors, but we will take your advice into consideration.” She sat on the couch, sitting on the edge with rapt attention with her pen in hand, ready to learn. She would have to take good notes if there was going to be a quiz. Did she need a highlighter? She saw most people studying used one of those and they looked like fun. Oh, right. She had to pay attention. “Well you rearranged my apartment and I’m still not sure as to why. So more about that, please. And as well, I need to understand how a book of faces works. And why toks tik. And what a yeet is. And what humans shop for. There are so many shops and strange items to purchase, I don’t understand the value structure. Did you know that some rocks cost more than others? Why? They’re all rocks. It’s very odd.”

“You… understand the turkey.” It wasn’t a question, but Nadia still cast a doubtful glance towards the creature, looking into its beady eyes for a sign of intelligence. It, Tom, whatever, stared back. Even though the turkey blinked first, Nadia felt like she’d lost a battle of wills or some shit. “Well, thank you both so much for your consideration.” She looked around the apartment, grateful that it wasn’t in the same state that it’d been when she arrived, though it was still a bit odd. The flamingos had been allocated to outside, and she’d managed to get rid of most of those damn trophies. The furniture was better put together, though she didn’t have the patience to really build shit, and she’d short circuited the fucking apartment twice putting things together, but it looked less like an alien lived in the joint. Instead, it looked like an alien and their human roommate lived there. “Okay, so I rearranged things to look, like, more human. Yeah, yeah, all the shit here was very human, but too much human stuff makes you look… less human and more human impersonating. Also, some of that shit was old and obsolete. You don’t need it. Now it looks more liveable, you feel?”

Nadia chewed thoughtfully on her gum. “Okay, so a book with faces on it’s like one of those people from Game of Thrones that’ll steal your face and pretend to be you, but a Facebook is a website, like that town forum thing but with more videos of cats and babies. Uhhh, toks tik is, like, a clock metaphor, and to yeet is to projectile vomit, I think. Humans are dumb, but they typically make purchases for necessity and amusement, in that order if they’re smart.” This was something that she knew about. “Necessity’s like food, water, booze… Toilet paper and hygiene stuff. Amusement’s literally anything to keep them entertained for their short, short lives.” And she knew all about that, didn’t she? “Most of the stuff you’ve got here’s amusement purchases. You need more necessities. Some stores specialize in certain things, be it necessity things or amusement things. And the rock thing is all about rarity and aesthetic. Some rocks are more valuable because they’re prettier, shinier, or because they’re so damn hard to get a hold of. Then, of course, there’s paper money, where someone just wrote a number on a piece of paper and the rest of us are supposed to go along with it like chumps.” Nadia snorted. “Don’t get me wrong, I love money, but it’s fuckin’ useless.”

“Well I can’t be completely sure but he’s easier to understand than most humans, I will say that much,” Norma said. Tom gobbled in agreement before waddling off looking for seeds. The entire apartment felt oddly empty now that Nadia had rearranged it and had removed some of her belongings. They had all been meaningless but she had come to enjoy them and the sense of familiarity they brought. “Old? None of it was very old. All of it was from the last century at least. That is very recent, let me tell you. Nothing has even started to rust yet.” There was barely any dust, too. She had been very proud of this fact. Humans were always so dusty. As Nadia talked, Norma scribbled furiously, taking as many notes as she could. They were in a few different languages, mostly something that just amounted to furious scribbles. She wasn’t entirely sure what note taking actually entailed but it seemed like she was doing it the same way she had observed. It’s not like she needed to read these later anyway. “Food, water, booze. Booze? This is alcohol, correct? That is necessary? Interesting. I do find humans more tolerable when inebriated.” It made them drop their inhibitions and without those, they were far more prone to chaos. She did very much appreciate the improved hygiene over the years, she would say that much. Her face scrunched up in confusion again. “Wait, money is useless? Then why is it so often considered valuable and a thing that mortals will both risk and waste their lives on?”

“Seriously?” Nadia asked, marginally curious. “What does he say?” She watched the turkey, completely confused by the dynamic that he and Norma had going on but, really, it wasn’t the weirdest thing about her roommate. Norma was odd as hell, and that was saying something because some of the fuckers Nadia had worked with over the years had been strange. “Anything older than, like, twenty years is considered old. Some old things are good. Old might mean that it’s worth more, or is considered vintage. But, sometimes old is shitty.” She paused. “Phones older than, like, three years are very shitty.” She peaked at Norma’s notes, frowning at what looked like a mess of squiggly lines. What the fuck? Some of that couldn’t even be an actual language. “You gonna be able to study those later?” she teased. But then she sobered up. “Booze is alcohol, yes, and it’s absolutely a necessity. The drinking kind, not the medical kind. That kind’s not important. But it’s vital that humans have alcohol at least once a week, unless their lame and abstain from that kinda thing. But yeah, most people are way better to be around drunk.” It made them more fun and easier to manipulate. Nadia was a fan of doing business in bars. “Because people apply a fictitious value to slips of paper, and people think they’ve got to work themselves to death to get it, which is dumb. It’s just paper. Just, like, take it.”

Norma thought that Nadia’s question was very strange. “He gobbles a lot. And makes strange clucking noises. Your ears function, yes?” She shook her head. Did she think the turkey spoke in English? That was very silly. Tom made another gurgling noise and she nodded. “You’re right, Tom. Humans are simple minded.” She made a mental note (and a scribble in her notebook) to get Tom more grain. He seemed to enjoy it very much. “Twenty years?!” Norma shot up and practically dropped her pencil. “That’s so recent! Like a blink of an eye!” She let out a huge sigh and reached down for her writing utensil. “How am I supposed to remember what’s recent? That’s such a short time span, the next twenty years are almost here.” She broke the tip of the pencil at her next eplatantion. “Three years? Why do you bother having these gadgets if they are immediately outdated? Why bother? This is silly! That’s no time at all. Do you all really think a year is a long time? Like it matters? This is exhausting. How do you all live so slowly and quickly at the same time?” This felt hopeless. She threw her pencil away, behind the couch. It didn’t matter. “So all humans need alcohol to survive and I can just take their paper money. What about their plastic money? That one is mostly unlimited, right? The currency that is allowed on the small rectangular cards? I ran into some issues the other day but I think I resolved it.”

“Yes, my ears fucking function.” Nadia sighed. “I don’t think that the turkey speaks English. I was wondering if you spoke turkey. How the hell do you understand him?” Asshole. But she didn’t call Norma that, didn’t want to come off as too much of a jackass, even though Norma was the one to start the name calling with that simple minded shit. “Yeah, twenty years is pretty recent, I guess. In the grand scheme of things,” Nadia mused. “But not all of us live for… how long have you been around again?” She was hoping, maybe this time, Norma would say. She was beyond curious about her seemingly ancient roommate. “Technology upgrades at a rapid pace. New stuff comes out every few months, each thing better and more technologically advanced than the last. We’ve come a pretty long way from the invention of the wheel.” She laughed a bit bitterly. “Good question! I did the smart thing and just upgraded bodies when the old one expired.” She took a sip of coffee, glad that Norma was at least absorbing some information. “Yes, and you can, but you’ve got to be sneaky about it. It’s not taking so much as stealing. And you can steal the plastic money, credit cards, they’re called, too, but you gotta be especially sneaky, and you can’t use them for long, or you’ll be tracked. Credit cards are pretty simple: you use one, and they charge you for it. Not immediately, but eventually. I don’t use ‘em. I don’t trust banks.” They were only good for being robbed.

“I don’t speak turkey, I just understand the turkey. It’s very different.” Norma gave an exasperated sigh. It was far less complicated than being human was so it was strange to her to get such pushback about it. Tom agreed. She could tell by the ruffling of his feathers. “I lost track,” Norma said nonchalantly as she doodled severed heads and some intestines spilling on the floor, along with some nice bleeding hearts with knives through them. “Based on your current calendar, quite a few centuries, I believe. But there have been other calendars and other systems of time so it’s all rather subjective and silly.” She added some more blood splatters around the heart with a flourish of her pen. “The real solution would be to get a better, less human body,” she said, mostly to herself, with another sigh. “Can you upgrade bodies like technology? That’s only a ghost thing, correct?” She had a feeling if humans could, they would. They tried so hard as it was to appear less old and feeble as they progressively aged. “Stealing. That’s a thing that is against the human laws, right? Most of them seem to be very against that. I know there are many in different places but that one has always been frowned upon. Humans are very possessive despite the fact their goods and money does not go with them to death.” Her next doodle was a man dying by way of a small plastic rectangle. ‘What’s not to trust about banks, though? Is that not where the money lives? Which you need. Please explain.”

Nadia blinked at Norma, unsure if this was a topic she wanted to keep discussing. “Okay.” It wasn’t. She cocked her head a bit looking at Norma’s paper with raised eyebrows. Violent. She could get behind that. “Damn, okay. That’s, like, an impressively long time. And you don’t age or…” Norma didn’t look much older than Nadia Diaz’s body. At the most, Norma didn’t look any older than Nadia had been the first time she’d died. “Right, right. Super subjective. Very silly. Time’s an illusion, and all that.” She raised her eyebrows a bit. “I mean, you’re not wrong or anything, but less human bodies aren’t exactly easy to find, you know? Outside of this town, at least.” She kind of liked her humanness, too. It was familiar and useful. So what if she couldn’t light herself on fire or have supernatural strength? She could blend in, and humans were in an abundant supply. They trusted their own, even if they didn’t always realize that other species existed. “Yeah, it’s just a ghost thing. I kinda dig this body, though. She’s worked well for me for, like, over six years, now.” She wouldn’t give up this body without a fight, at this point. Besides, it’d literally die without her in it, now, since Nadia Diaz was gone. “Stealing, yeah. It’s definitely against human laws, but laws are subjective. What’s another person to tell me what I can and can’t do, you know?” She grinned lazily, leaning back. “Doesn’t matter. We like to look good, impressive, for the living. Nothing’s more exciting to most people than being better than everyone around them. Wealth makes them believe they’re better. And banks steal money. They all just work for big corporations and the government, and they’re fucking useless when people come along and take your money from you.” Like Nadia literally did all the time. “Why should a group of bureaucratic assholes be in charge of the value of pieces of paper? It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Physically? No, not really,” Norma answered, eyes still glued to her paper and the hatch marks she was adding to the spleen sketch to add some shading. “For the most part I believe I look relatively the same as I did when I was last human.” The words always felt a bit like boiling water in her mouth. To admit she was ever anything so plain was shameful and never something she enjoyed advertising to her demonic cohorts. They all thought they were so much better than her because they had never once been mortal but it was not her fault that her near godhood was delayed a few years. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of eternity anyway. “If you say so. You are right, however. There really is an overabundance of humans. I see why it would be much easier to acquire one of their bodies. But you should really consider a siren. I think it would suit you.” Norma tilted her head to get a better look at her work. She ripped the page out, crumpled it up and tossed it behind her before she started on her next set of illustrations. Norma was unsure if anything that Nadia was saying about these bureaucratic institutions were correct but she found herself nodding along in the appearance of understanding and solidarity, something they had gone over in the previous weeks. Questions were an indication of non human behavior, at least that was what she had been told by her current tutor. “So we steal money to be wealthy and toppled the banks. Very much noted,” she said, letting out a small sigh as she finally looked back up at her current roommate. “This is all very nice. Thank you. I appreciate you. But can you just show me how to find the cat videos in the world wide web again instead?”

“Huh.” Nadia took all of Norma’s information in with interest; it was the first time the other woman had admitted to once being just that, a woman. A human woman, in fact, who had somehow managed to become immortal in a way that seemed way better than any deal the undead got. “That’s pretty fucking cool.” Maybe she could check in to figuring out how Norma had become, well, Norma. It’d be pretty fucking funny if she made this body immortal. Then, if Nadia Diaz’s ghost really was still hanging around, there would be no doubt that she’d outlast it. She laughed, though, at Norma’s next remark. “A siren? Makes sense, I guess. I’ve been told I have a wicked good tongue, anyway. Imagine if it was supernaturally so.” Whether or not Norma actually took her words to heart was irrelevant. Half the time, Nadia was just fucking with her. It was fun. Norma seemed to genuinely believe whatever came out of Nadia’s mouth, as long as she said it in the right tone. And, besides, what harm could it do? It was fun, and, if Norma ended up robbing a bank or something, it’d be funny as hell. She could feel that Norma was losing interest, though, so the cat videos question didn’t come as a surprised. Nadia was only a little exasperated as she finished her coffee and went to grab her laptop. “Actually, this time, you are gonna show me how to find cat videos. Remember, it’s just like I taught you.”

[streetharmacist]

So wHat No CrimE | Nadia & Felix

Setting: Early July; back when Felix was large. Summary: Maybe a little crime. As a treat. Warnings: Minor explosions. With: @humanmoodring

As the days passed, it became clearer to Felix what some of the greatest tragedies of being so dang tall were. Glasses ruined, yet more time stolen away from Bea, and the inability to do the crime that he wanted to do. It was terrible. Property damage and vehicle damage were swell but he just wanted to swindle somebody. Count a few cards. Even steal just a measly five dollar bill. It was fun to stomp around the woods, sure, but what was more fun than whittling away at someone’s life earnings? He couldn’t fathom it. Nadia had seemed a little more eager to commit a crime or two lately and he wasn’t about to shoot down that fun time. It was hard to say that she was acting like herself again when the Nadia he had known had been a ghost possessed one. Which she wasn’t anymore. His antlers tried to wrap around it. And he had assured, not exactly promised, that they would get to do crime. One was a little less painful than the other but it smarted just the same as he shot Nadia a message of I don’t think I can crime tonight :(. Just outside of the Nordica theater, near enough to downtown where they had used to scheme. He couldn’t even fit in the theater anymore. The shadowed fae sighed and crouched, face in his hands. Dare he say it, he was bummed.

I don’t think I can crime tonight :( had to have been one of the most disa-fucking-ppointing messages that Nadia had seen in quite some time. Can’t crime? Felix Doyle and “no crime” just didn’t go together in a sentence. So, she filled her Harley with gas using money that she’d taken from one of her hard-earned carnival pickpockets and headed out to check a few of the locations she and Felix had met up at when she’d first moved to town so many months ago. She wandered around downtown for a bit, occasionally looking down alleys and grumbling to herself. “Can’t fuckin’ crime, my ass. What a load of bullshit.” She’d walked down the alley beside the Nordica theater, a little bit of nostalgia filling her, when she bumped into a shadow. A very tall shadow. A very tall shadow with antlers on top. She looked up at the shadow and blinked. “Uh, yo,” she said to it. It didn’t feel like a shadow. It felt like a person, muted so probably supernatural, but still a person. The shadow felt... disappointed? Join the club, shadowman. “How’s the weather up there?”

Felix’s expression was dull, maybe even a little sad, as he stared off into the moonlight. He supposed he could go do giant things. Truthfully, he didn’t want to. He wanted to do regular-sized Felix things. He could either feel bad about it or he could get angry. Just as a warm anger started to climb up him, someone ran into him. Bright eyes blinked, then dimmed, as he glanced down. He knew that voice. “Nadia! That you?” He couldn’t go out and do crime, but hey, she still came to see him anyway. Or had tracked him down, since he hadn’t said where he was. Wow, what a friend. “Not gonna lie, it’s a little windy up here. Birds sure get startled when a little turbulence knocks ‘em this way,” he said, a little amused. He had to help many a bird out when they crashed into his antlers. The fae had to wonder how Regan was holding up with birds. Maybe she had made friends or she tried to talk with them about her own wings. Get some tips or pointers. “And the weather down there? Is it better or worse? Say, how’d you know where I’d be?”

“No fucking way. Felix?” Nadia looked up at her very tall, very large former accomplice. He was very large and very shadowy and not at all like the well-dressed man she’d met before. He really pulled off the shadowy look well, though. “And people call me shady,” she said. Then she called up to him, Can’t blame the birds. Don’t know if I’d expect to see such swanky antlers that high up.” Damn, they looked like fucking shadowy tree branches from a child’s scary story. It was kind of sick in, like, a good way. “Oh, you know, weather down here’s same as usual. A little bit more overcast than I was expecting tonight, but not terrible.” The banter was nice, but she was here for business. “I was a little bummed when you said no crime tonight, so I figured I’d check some of our old haunts.” She was playing her hand, perhaps a little too soon, but Nadia didn’t care. “Glad to know you weren’t off having too much fun without me. Though, I’m curious how you ended up in such a… predicament. The extra inches aren’t a bad look, just unexpected.”

“Oh very fucking way, Nadia,” Felix said. As his mood lightened, so did his expression. A smile grew as much as it could in the shadow of his face. “D’you think a tie might help people put two-and-two...and maybe two more, together?” He supposed he could make himself a regular necklace out of his neckties. Change his current lack of much attire into something a bit more business casual. He touched at his antlers. Swanky. Yes, yes they were swanky. And being a giant only made them even swankier. Silving linings! If he could blush... “See, I try to call out to ‘em before they do but they never seem to understand me. Maybe they’re from Jersey.” He reminded himself to laugh quieter. Any kind of raucous laughter had proved itself disastrous. “Funny you mention that whole being bummed business because I gotta say, I’m bummed myself over it. It ain’t right not doing any crime, especially on a nice night like this,” he admitted with a sigh of lament. A brow rose. “Old haunts, huh? You got any other of those in mind?” He withheld a grin as he glanced down at himself. “You ever hear that old wives’ tale about coffee stunting your growth?” He paused to shrug. “Between you and me, I think that might’ve been inaccurate.”

“You know, dude, a necktie might do the trick. You could get a shiny one, you know, to really bring out your eyes,” Nadia said with a grin. She liked Felix; he was a cool guy. They hadn’t known each other for too long, but every time they’d interacted had been fun. She liked working with people who knew when to have fun on the job and when to take it serious. Felix was one of those people. “It’s that Transatlantic accent, Felix. You’re too high-class for the birds.” She looked him up and down. “Especially now.”  She looked around. Fuck, this was a perfect place to do some planning. Quiet, good location, the theater added privacy. “It is a nice night for getting in trouble.” She cocked her head a bit to the side but smiled. “If you weren’t around downtown, I was gonna check the docks. That boat we did the deal with that group of sirens still there?” She shook her head a bit. “Speaking of bummed, man, I was hella bummed to find out you’d been talking to me, and it was even me. Like, Felix, I thought we had a deal.” An actual, legitimate deal, one made with a binding promise and everything. She wondered if that was why Nadia’d been so willing to message Felix back. Maybe the body was what was bound to the deal, not just the soul.

“I’ll have to look into one then! You can definitely never go wrong with a nice necktie. As long as it ain’t a Sicilian one.” Felix said, his words accompanied by a wide and welcoming smile. Already, the mood had been lifted. It was strange to feel so downtrodden when it was very much on top of things, but heck, it was being worked out. The potential of crime and criminally good company could do that, he supposed, as he grinned at Nadia. “I’m just bringing the gift of old time radio to our feathered friends!” The way she talked, the way she held herself. It was the Nadia he had met before. It wasn’t too out of the way to wrap his head around Nadia being the one he knew before and not the one he met after. People had a way of changing about them. A dim light of concern was stifled underneath the enthusiasm for crime. “Every night is a nice one for some troublemaking and trouble dealing,” he remarked with a slow nod. “You know, I’m pretty sure it still is. It’s a nice boat. Be a shame if anything were to...happen to it.” A small, yet still rather sigh, pushed its way out of the fae. “‘Course we got a deal! I take those real seriously, you know. But things get a little--” He paused to move a hand from side-to-side. “--Messy sometimes. I guess the whole possession thing will do that. But hey, you’re back and we got some time to make up for, huh? You still wanna check out that boat? Maybe bust up a vampire crypt or two. Nothing really lifts the spirits like property damage!”

“Oh, a Sicilian necktie would be a tragedy,” Nadia agreed, even if she knew shit about Sicilian neckties. See, she’d come looking for Felix in order to chew him out, both for leaving her out of quality crime time and for working with her host instead of her, but the guy was so damn fun that it was impossible to be mad. Besides, he was in a shitty situation, one he couldn’t help. What was that saying? It ain’t easy being fifteen feet tall? Because it sure didn’t look it. “I hope you’re playing them a little ragtime, too. No old school radio show’s complete without it.” She felt it, just a pinprick of concern from him as he realized who she was, before he seemed to get over it. Good. At least someone that knew both her and her host was okay with Nadia being in control. “You know, it would be a shame for something to happen to that boat. Bet it’d be a real blast, though.” She wanted to be petulant, to cross her arms and be pissed off that she was just, thrown to the side, forgotten. She never, never wanted to be forgotten. Even if she wasn’t herself, even if she had to be remembered as Nadia Diaz, she was never going to be forgotten again. When all was said and done, and she’d had the time of her life, she was going to make sure she was known. “I get it. Yeah, I get it. But, you’re right. I’m back. I’m better than ever. And, yes, hell yeah. Let’s blow up a boat. Let’s fuck up a horde of vampires. Dude, with your height and horns, you could seriously fuck some people up right now. And not even just physically! Imagine if people saw you! You’d be the talk of the fucking town!”

“Well, that just depends who you gift it to!” Felix grinned. One that said he might have gifted a few in his lifetime and he hadn’t felt sad about any of them. They fell into an easy routine, he and Nadia. Crime had a way of developing and maintaining a camaraderie like nothing else. Maybe it was the blood involved. Counting bullets wasn’t so different from counting stars. In the right absence of light, they glinted all the same. “You could do the advice section, you know. How not to get caught, the quickest way to count dough. You’d be great at it!” The giant lampade shifted, lifted himself slightly out of the dark and into the dim light at the back of the theater. It would have been a strange look. A woman talking to a living shadow. Scheming, no less. Heck, luckily for any onlookers, there weren’t any. “It is a nice boat,” he said. “But some things look a little better when they’re not together, don’tcha think?” Felix looked at Nadia then, eyes dim and thoughtful. It felt good to plot out a little anarchy, a misdemeanor here and there. He had been frustrated. Annoyed. He preferred the easy slip into shadows. There and then back again. The way he was, he couldn’t do that. It was a fun feeling to want to watch something be destroyed. He had a notion that Nadia got it. “Geez Louise, I missed this. Missed you. What a time we’re gonna have. Say, I’ll race you to the boat? We can take a real tour of the town, get a few summer fires going!” The fae grinned at her again and without much warning, took off toward the docks with long strides through the dark. “Let’s get ‘em talking, you and I!”

Laughing, Nadia realized that a Sicilian necktie was probably a gift one didn’t want to be given. Something like a knife to the back or a gift wrapped bomb. She could get used to this. Crime didn’t have to be a solitary endeavor. She’d been doing this for a long time, long before she bit the bullet and took over the body of a little empath with abandonment issues. Maybe those issues, those desires to be around people even when it kind of hurt, were why Nadia had taken to working with partners in this lifetime, forming connections in ways she didn’t in her first life. Yeah, she could stand on her own two feet, prefered it, even, but working with others was… nice. “I could do a great advice section. Raising a con artist: ten tried and true methods to get more cash out of your client.” It had a ring to it. As Felix shifted, Nadia glanced around, making sure they weren’t being watched. “I’ve always thought that more is better than less. More money, more guns, more pieces of a boat floating around in a harbor.” Property damage was always fun, and it’d send a hell of a message. Nadia was back, and the few little things she’d been doing by herself weren’t enough. Working with Felix was always a blast; this time, it seemed it would be literally. “It’s good to be back,” she said, an easy smile working its way onto her face. It sharpened a bit as Felix began to run, his long shadowy legs giving him an advantage. “Yo! No fair!” Nadia took off towards her bike, laughing. Hoping on, she road in close to Felix, revving the engine a bit. “You know, you may have those long legs as an advantage, Felix, but I’ve got two wheels and a tank of guys.” She shot off into the night. “See ya at the docks!”

“Well, you know what they say, life’s not fair and neither are we!” Felix said as he took to the night’s shadows like a demon, silent beside the roar of Nadia’s bike. He had been unhappy with the circumstances, of his inability to do every single thing that crossed his mind. But running free, running through the night on the way to cause some strife with Nadia, he didn’t worry about it. Just like old times. He had the wind in his antlers and the town underneath his feet. The mood would likely change once he crawled back into the cave, alone and tucked as far away from the slightest sliver of sun that edged precariously close. But until then, they could own the night. Nadia’s engine roared ahead and he grinned, pumping his long legs faster to get to the dock. He slowed as he drew nearer to the docks. Sure enough, there it was. The siren ship. Quiet and still on White Crest’s waters. As far as he could tell, there weren’t any fae nearby but his nerves still popped. It was excitement. Pure, undiluted excitement. It was the thrill before a job. “It’s good to have you back too,” he said with a grin. Not that the other Nadia had been so bad. Just more familiar with the one that was keen on blowing stuff up and robbing a few banks before dinner. “Dunno about you but I don’t got any dynamite or powder on me.” He shrugged as he crouched down beside her. “You wanna check the boats? I can get the boathouse.”

Chasing after a shadow that was truly larger than life, Nadia felt the desire to crow out her excitement. This was life outside of laws and boundaries, and this was the way life was meant to be. Just the night and crime, without interference from some slip of a girl’s consciousness trying to fight a losing battle. Only big things caused Nadia to stir these days. She was there, lurking, but there was little fight, little struggle. Good. It was better to give in rather than to fight. “It’s good to be back,” she told Felix, her grin wide and wild. “You know, unfortunately, I left my dynamite in my other pants, but these fucker’s have gotta have something on them. They seemed like the kind to keep explosives around, you know?” She got off her bike and headed to the boat. “Sounds good. I’ll see if I can find anything else of use, too. Maybe some sort of shiny thing to fence off or something.” That’d just be an added benefit, though. Just blowing the damn thing sky high would be good enough. Nadia hopped on the boat, allowing herself to adjust to the way it moved in the water, and headed to the door to pick the lock. A good criminal kept a set of picks and a flashlight on them at all times, and she was nothing if not a pro. The door practically unlocked itself, and Nadia set about looking for explosives and valuables. A few minutes of search brought up nothing in the way of things that go boom, but she did find a pretty promising lockbox. Nadia grabbed it and headed outside to see what Felix might have found.

“You too, huh?” Felix laughed, a loud and raucous sound as he feigned patting at his pockets. The kind of sound that didn’t give a damn. “Oh I’d bet big, big money on it. I don’t think we’re the only ones that could do with an explosion every now and then. You know, to keep the joint lively.” He shrugged his shoulders and offered Nadia an over-sized thumbs up as he slunk his way into the boathouse. There was a distinct feeling, as he picked carefully through drawers and cubbies, that he’d have a crick in his neck the size of Texas come morning.  One overlarge palm open, he plunked a pack of cigarettes, three sticks of dynamite, and a small lighter into it. As he lifted his head, it caught on what felt like a net. “Geez Louise,” he muttered as he pulled at it enough to tear himself free. Pieces dangled from his antlers but he didn’t pay them much mind as he returned to Nadia. “I think these fellas might be doing some of that blast fishing. The real illegal kind?” As he spoke, he offered a stick of dynamite to Nadia with a grin. The thrill before a job. He loved it. Sure as heck missed it. “So, between you and me, I think we might be doing some kinda community service.” Dim eyes looked at the lockbox and brightened slightly. “You find something good?” The fae tried to ignite the lighter but his stupid large thumbs made it near impossible. He handed the lighter and cigarettes to Nadia. “You wanna do us the honors, Nadia? Sorta like a homecoming present, ain’t it?”

“You got big money in that shadow suit of yours, Doyle?” Nadia asked, pleased with the way the night was turning out. She joined him to see the dynamite. “Illegal activity? In White Crest? Well, we’ve got to do something about that, don’t we? Think this kind of community service will take a few years off my sentence if I ever get caught?” She traded him the dynamite for the lock box, pleased with both of their finds. Now, they’d get to have a little fun and be paid for it. Assuming that the lockbox had something valuable in it, of course. But she remembered these jokers before; there was something valuable in this lockbox, it was only a matter of opening and finding out what kind of valuable it had. “I’m betting that there’s something real nice in there, once we get it open. Spoils of war, you know?” She pocketed the cigarettes and smoothly ignited the lighter with a grin. “I’d be delighted to, Felix. Why, I think this is the best present I’ve ever received.” She moved them away from the boat so they didn’t end up getting caught in the explosion and lit the stick of dynamite. What a bitch this would be to wake up to.

Rather than words, Felix answered with a wide smile. He had a nice little hoard of money to go with his couple centuries existence, inflation and all. Crime simply paid better and if anyone understood that, it was certainly the woman with dynamite in hand. “See, that’s what I’m thinking. How could we be the bad guys here? They might even give you a key to the city!” He laid a hand across his heart and drew his dark brow in. The lockbox was small in his hands as he turned it from palm to palm. There was definitely something in there and his eyes gleamed at the thought. “I think you might be right. Why keep it on the boat? I wonder if they found something out on the water.” Was it an old key to something ancient? Maybe a few family heirlooms? Silver bullets? As he hopped from idea to idea, he went with Nadia to a safe enough distance away. “Heck, from my heart to yours, pal!” He halted his greedy thoughts and watched as the stick of dynamite arced through the sky. It was beautiful but it didn’t compare to the boom. The spark and the shower. An alarm or two went off to crescendo into a beautiful chaos. It almost brought a tear to his eye. “...Jiminy, it never gets old, does it? Really brings the night sky together.” He glanced around and shifted his weight, his shadow blending into the ones the dock created. “We should get outta here before the fuzz shows. You wanna hold onto that box?”

“Key to the city, huh? Well, in that case…” Nadia threw the stick of dynamite, and she wasn’t disappointed by the end results. She laughed uproariously at the resulting explosion. This was it. This was a high that even Felix’s supply couldn’t. “Better than fireworks,” she said, immediately wanting to do it again. But… not tonight. Another time. Sometime soon. Crime was about money, but it was also about fun, and explosions were literally a blast. She took the lockbox again, weighing it in her hands and wondering just what the hell was inside. She really wanted to know. “Yeah, I’ll take it, let you know what I find so we can split the spoils.” She grinned up at him, his hulking shadowy form disappearing on her a bit. “As much as I love cops, I’d rather not have to explain this to ‘em. Still… Always fun hanging with you, Felix. It was a fucking blast.”

[thronesofshadows]

Thank You for Being a Friend || Nadia & Evelyn

TIMING: The evening Nadia truly wasn’t home anymore. (aka after the exorcism gone wrong) LOCATION: Evelyn’s House, Harris Island PARTIES: @humanmoodring and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Pure wholesome friendship times. :-)

Standing on the porch of one Evelyn Hoffman, Nadia ran a hand through her greasy hair flinching a bit as she caught her reflection in the glass. She looked like she’d been rode hard and put away wet, bruises around her wrist and dried blood on her face and rust and dirt everywhere. She felt like a young god, though, all powerful, like there was electricity coursing hot through her veins. She felt like she was in the clouds, and the height was exhilarating and dizzying. She’d managed to start Nadia’s truck by barely touching it, the electricity practically begging her to manipulate it. Her body was exhausted, but her spirit was going haywire. Stille, Nadia knew she needed to rest, at least for a little bit, before those fucking children and their legion of friends came looking for her. As far as she knew, Evelyn was separated from all of that, which is why she was able to put on as big of a smile as she could as she knocked on the door. Her body was trembling with energy. Maybe she could say it was because of the cold.

She hadn’t heard from Nadia in a while - though that hardly changed the fact that she cared for the other woman - despite her being human. Despite the fact that Evelyn from years past would have scoffed at the level of care that she held for humans (but only certain ones, she had to remind herself), she could not help it. Some of the ones here were so much better than any that she had ever met at home. So when Nadia had asked for help, Evelyn hadn’t questioned it for a second. She pulled as many blankets out as she could, acknowledging the fact that for the first time in her memory she was going to have two people she cared for at her home - though right now Nadia was the priority. She moved quickly to the door once she heard the knock, pulling it open and offering Nadia a soft smile. “Come in, please.” You look terrible, she wanted to say. Would have said, if she had not been raised to be polite whenever possible. Particularly in circumstances that appeared as possibly dire as this one. “Can I do anything for you? Tea? A - hug?” Her nose wrinkled as she offered it, but perhaps that was what she needed. “I am also quite alright with just sitting together. Whatever you need.” She pressed her thumbs against her hips, letting the room grow quiet for just a moment.

“Thanks,” Nadia murmured, her eyes growing large as she took in the inside of Evelyn’s house. This was what she’d always wanted: living an extravagant life in an extravagant house surrounded by extravagant things. She wanted all of it, a bandit’s hideaway worth of stuff and then some. She wanted a palace and a throne and all the money in the world and-- She blinked at Evelyn, realizing she’d spaced out in the middle of what the other woman had been saying. She could feel the other woman’s concern. “Just a shower, right now, would be lovely.” She knew she looked like shit. Between living wherever she could for weeks and then getting her brain fucked by the exorcism, she had definitely seen better times. “No hugs,” she said, laughing a bit breathlessly. Even though Evelyn was pretty, Nadia didn’t want to be touched at all right now, her skin prickling from just the thought of it. “But thanks for this. All of this. I realize I look like hell. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“Of course.” Evelyn replied, her voice quiet. She watched Nadia carefully, not wanting to startle her (which was something she was certain Marley would curse her for, being too soft around humans, caring too much for their feelings and well-being). Not wanting to pressure her into anything. She pressed her palms against her hips, centering her thoughts before she re-focused on her friend. “Well, I have more than one of those and plenty of shampoo and conditioner to help you get as clean as you need.” She bit her lip, eyes taking in Nadia’s form, the way she held herself - she looked completely beaten down, but there was something in the way she laughed that caused Evelyn’s following giggle to hold a certain level of hesitation. “Of course. No hugs. I - well, you know I do not often do that either, so it works for me.” She bit her lip. “It is quite alright - I just, it means a lot that you trusted me enough to reach out. That you trusted me to be someone to go to.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Nadia said, an easy smile on her lips, though she was careful, so careful with Evelyn. This whole situation was a landmine, and her only saving grace was that she seemed to trust Nadia explicitly. There was no way that this could be a trap. At least… It couldn’t be, could it? No, Nadia would know. She would know. But Evelyn was so hesitant that she couldn’t really be sure. The lights flickered a bit, and Nadia jumped, startled by her own abilities. She did that. She did. She could do anything. “Works out well for both of us, huh?” She said, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, beating as fast as if she’d taken electricity from the very building and pumped it into her chest. She gave Evelyn a meaningful, Nadia Diaz look. “Of course I trust you,” she said, sincerely lying through her teeth. This wasn’t about trusting Evelyn. Not at all. There wasn’t a damn person that she did trust. This was just a lack of distrust. “I can’t think of anyone I’d have rather gone to.”

“Anything for you.” Evelyn replied easily. She had tried to get her friend to come by before, to stay over, even - back when she had mentioned difficulties. She’d always refused, and though Evelyn entirely understood it - she was rarely one to ask for help - she had wanted to help Nadia, though, for whatever reason. The lights flickered and Evelyn glanced up at them. Her circuits, though she did not know much about electricity, were good. Stable or steady or whatever the accurate term would be. She pushed any sort of thought of worry aside, instead replying, “It does,” focusing back on Nadia. “Well, I should expect nothing less,” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice light. “Well, lucky for you, my home had quite good security and it is more than big enough in case you need your own space - which you are more than welcome to take.” She made her way further into her home, over to the sitting room - which seemed to be where she was spending a great deal of time with her guests - though it was what made the most sense. “Can I get you anything?” She sat down, and motioned for Nadia to do the same.

Cocking her head only slightly, Nadia looked at Evelyn, really looked at her, and, not for the first time since she’d started possessing this body, she wondered what it was about Nadia Diaz that was so goddamn special and interesting and worth “doing anything” for. She’d never seen it, personally, not when the girl was younger, not when she’d watched her stumble through some sort of semblance of a life here in White Crest. She was nothing. Nadia Diaz was nothing, but she’d made her something, made this body something. And now it was completely hers. She wanted to celebrate. She wanted to sleep for a decade. She wanted to scream. Instead, she just gave Evelyn a tired smile. “Thank you.” She looked around the house. Good security, huh? Maybe she’d test it out. “I feel safer already,” she said, and it was the truth. No one was going to look for her with Evelyn. Hell, she doubted there were many people that would even associate her with Evelyn, and that made this perfect. She bet she could hide out here with the woman indefinitely, but she didn’t want to stay, just to be completely safe. She’d need to distance herself from Nadia’s life completely, which meant wrapping up loose ends, making sure her host couldn’t come back, and then getting the hell out of town. Maybe somewhere sunny, and warm, and with lots of nice houses like this one to rob. “You’ve already done too much, seriously,” she told Evelyn as she followed her through the house and took a seat across from her. “This is more than enough.”

“I am glad you feel safer.” Evelyn wanted to say something more, because she wanted to do something more for Nadia. A certain part of her still blamed herself for whatever suffering Marley giving her nightmares had done, even though it wasn’t her fault. Even if regret for humans likely made her something of a terrible mara, perhaps even by her mother’s standards. At that thought, Evelyn’s mind shifted back to that brief time when she could dream, the way her mother had turned from soft to cruel so quickly. A trick of the imagination she was certain, and she told herself that had to be true. After all, she was more than a bit of an expert on the world of dreams. It didn’t stop it from stinging, from wondering if somehow the life she’d come to live would be one that both of her parents would disapprove of. She cared little for what her father thought, so long as he was back in England, but she’d always wanted to live her life in the best way that she could. Make herself into someone who her mother would have been proud of. “Good.” She tucked a strand of hair over her ear. “Well, it certainly is not more than enough by my standards, but if you say so, I shall acquiesce.” She held up her hands as if in false protest. “I can - do you want tea?” Her face turned immediately apologetic. “The socialite in me gets out a bit too much sometimes. We can just sit. Sit until you are ready for more.”

“Can’t imagine not feeling safe with you,” Nadia said, trying to make sure that her voice sounded open and honest. The truth was, though, that she didn’t feel any safer with this woman than she had while she was camping in the woods, all sorts of White Crest supernatural unknowns roaming around her, waiting to attack. She felt on guard because she knew the second that she relaxed or felt comfortable, Nadia could possibly-- But Nadia couldn’t. She wasn’t here anymore. This body was well and truly hers, and it was glorious (and overwhelming). So, that wasn’t why she was on guard, but she was still suspicious. She could feel this woman, sure, but who knew what Evelyn could be hiding? With her muted emotions that could probably change faster than Nadia could comprehend, there was no telling how dangerous she could be if she found out that sweet, kind Nadia Diaz had left the building. Coming here was probably a mistake, but it was one she was going to have to deal with. It wasn’t permanent, regardless. “We do have different standards,” she teased, an eyebrow raised and just a bit of laughter in her voice. Evelyn was on the opposite end of the spectrum when it came to standards, Nadia was sure. “Tea would be nice, though, if it would soothe your social niceties. It might be good for my throat, too.” It still felt a bit raw. “But don’t feel, like, obligated. How are you doing, Evelyn?” Let’s not make this all about me, remained unspoken, but it was there.

“Well, some may not, but I have always thought it most reasonable to make those who I care for feel safe.” Evelyn fiddled with her collar. She wanted to share more with Nadia, wanted to be as open as she could, but there was something a bit odd - or maybe she was reading too much into things, too afraid to break anyone else’s trust in who she was. Even if Alain had purportedly come around to understanding her, or so he claimed - he’d turned out to be not what she expected and she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if Nadia didn’t accept her. “We do. However, I am not so very bothered by that. I find that there is little you could do to bother me.” She matched Nadia’s tone of voice. “Absolutely, and it is not just to soothe anything. I simply offer because I know that it makes me feel better, I know, whenever I feel under the weather.” She bit her lip, shifted her position to face Nadia. “I will get you some, soon. I am - well, I have not been sleeping as well as I ought to have. I have another friend staying, as I mentioned to you, but she will be out of your hair. She is just staying with me to make sure I stay safe as I can. I would not have had her come by, except I do trust her and I had offered before you asked for my help. You will be safe here.” She brushed her fingertips against her nose. “Otherwise I have been as well as one might expect, given how complex this town seems to be.”

“How in the world could anyone not feel safe with you, Ms. Hoffman? Nadia teased, though she kept it gentle, deciding to relax just a bit more. This woman was no threat, not to Nadia, and therefore not to her. The care she felt was genuine, and that was enough for her. If she was found out, she had no doubt that she’d be able to get out of any sort of difficult situation. After all, couldn’t hurt precious Nadia Diaz’s body. “I’m sure there’s something I could do that would bother you. What if I was a slob?” A murderer? “That’d be pretty bothersome.” Now it was time to put on the concerned friend hat. She could do that. She could be calm and concerned and totally a good friend, a good Nadia. “Do you know why you’re not sleeping well? Is it just, like, normal sleeping problems or abnormal sleeping problems?” She remember Evelyn mentioning another person, but she didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to meet her. Who knew? Maybe she’d have a bit of fun with Evelyn once she left, let her know that it wasn’t her friend that she’d been bothering. “Don’t sweat it. Any friend of yours is cool in my book. I’m sure she’s a-okay.” Maybe it was another wanted criminal. Nadia didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Evelyn Hoffman could hang out with whoever she pleased. “Yeah, this town is a shit show, isn’t it? Got a really nice horror movie ambiance.” What would this woman think, if she knew Nadia was literally coming to her straight outta The Exorcist? “This side of town’s swanky as hell, though.”

“Just Evelyn, please.” She scrunched her nose up for a moment. Nadia was not usually so formal around her, but then again, everything seemed a bit overwhelming right now, and she still wasn’t sure just what Nadia had gone through. So Evelyn shrugged. It was meant as a joke, she told herself. “If you were a slob it would be a bit of trouble, but I believe whole-heartedly that we would manage to make do all the same.” She raised an eyebrow as she settled against the back of the couch. “Perhaps I would have to clean, how very dreadful.” She let a small bit of laughter escape her lips then, followed by a small shrug. “I think it is more on the abnormal end of things.” She drummed her fingertips on her thigh. “I have always been quite routine with my sleep schedule, and this is a new and entirely odd development. I am glad you are good with my other friend. She is a delight, I think the two of you would get along well, but I think she also wishes to stay out of your hair, so all is well.” She looked over to Nadia again. “I mean, I cannot say I am wholly opposed to horror, but you are correct that this town is frequently filled with things both terrifying and unexpected.” She couldn’t help but let a proper grin cross her lips at the next comment. “Well, I do like the very best, both in company and items, so I should hope so. I am ever so pleased you have found the time to come by, even though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Of course, just Evelyn,” Nadia said almost immediately. “Is that so? Well, I would hate to make you have clean, of all things.” Though, did someone like Evelyn clean, or was she rich enough to have people for that? She looked around once more. Yeah, she was definitely rich enough. Nadia wanted something like this. She wanted it desperately, and now she could achieve it. She was the only Nadia Diaz here, the one that won their body, her body. She won. “Of course it’s on the abnormal end of things. When is anything on the normal end of things? It’d be bad for business around here.” It’d be bad for her business, now that she could easily slip back into crime uninterrupted. No more sour feelings at doing what had to be done. She could be just as rich as Evelyn Hoffman in a matter of months, richer, even. Things were going her way. Who knew all she had to do was give up a peaceful afterlife to get it? Seemed like a fair bargain. If there was no risk, then there was no reward. “I hope everything gets sorted quickly with your sleep problems. Soon. Sorry if I’m not the greatest guest, but tell your friend I’m sure she’s great. I’ll probably head out in a day or two. I’ve got a bunch of shit to sort through.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. First order of business? Find somewhere more permanent to crash. Then it would be time to get to work properly. “Horror’s best when it’s on a screen. It’s wicked cool when you’ve got some separation to it.” But she grinned, matching Evelyn. “You do have great taste in both things. While I am sorry it took me so long to come by, I really can’t tell you just how grateful I am.” Because that would be giving away too much, too soon.

“I mean, we are friends.” They were, right? Evelyn had to pause for a moment. She couldn’t sense anything, that wasn’t within her abilities, but there was something in Nadia’s tone that felt less soft than she was used to. Though perhaps her judgement was just off. Alain had proved that well enough, though she refused to focus on that right now. “You know, sometimes I like it. When I was avoiding sleep… however many months ago it was, I reorganized parts of my home. It is rather cathartic.” She shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “A fair point; it would be rather horrid for business, after all, what would we do without giant lobsters or red skies or - well, any number of things that I cannot even remember even though they have all occurred this year.” She bit her lip at her friend’s next comments. “Mm, it is more just that I am used to. I have had relatively stable sleep my entire life, so this is just odd, that is all. You are a wonderful guest regardless.” She took the time to look over Nadia, taking in everything about her that she could. “That is why you are here. For you to have plenty of time to sort through everything that you need. You can head out whenever suits you, but I have no shortage of space, and it is free lodging - not that - not that you seem to need that, but it does not hurt.” She nodded. “Yes, separation from it is well and good. Well, your gratitude is appreciated though not necessary. I am happy to do whatever I can for you.”

“Absolutely, we’re friends.” There was no longer any sort of guilt accompanying the lie, no annoying presence in the back of Nadia’s head that wanted to break free at the worlds. She grinned, full and certain and overly happy. “Of course we’re friends.” She cocked her head to the side, just a bit, knowing that she was supposed to remember something about Evelyn not sleeping but not knowing enough about the situation to comment on it. “Fair enough. But, yeah, no, we would be nowhere without the giant lobsters and the weird fish in the fog.” That had been her least favorite part of camping, all the fucking weird shit that had been in the woods with her. “I hope your sleep schedule gets back to normal soon. I, for one, know I’m going to sleep incredibly after all the excitement I’ve had recently.” Nadia leaned forward and took Evelyn’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. She hoped her smile was sincere enough. She didn’t have the energy to read the room. “I’m still grateful, and I know you’re gonna say I don’t have to, but I will repay, okay?” She didn’t do debts. Nadia pulled away, covering her mouth as she yawned. “Wanna talk later? I’m kind of beat.” Physically and mentally. She needed some rest, and she needed to figure out what to do to repay Evelyn before she left. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to worry about talking to her again.

“Naturally.” Evelyn shrugged. “I should rather prefer to never once deal with any of that again, as I find them rather a bother.” Which was an understatement, but she was well-aware that her behaviors were just that, sometimes, when she didn’t crave attention, and right now she was far more curious about her houseguest. “I bet it will. My friend does wonders to help me, and knowing I have kept you safe will aid in that too, certainly.” She squeezed Nadia’s hand back, letting her hands linger against the other woman’s for a few moments before Nadia broke away and Evelyn’s gaze settled on hers, taking in how she held herself. So different now from that night in the Artesian, all those many months ago. “You will also sleep well because I have only the highest quality sheets on all of my beds. Okay. If you wish, you can repay, but you are correct that you do not have to.” She nodded. “Yes, of course. I hope you sleep well. I will be here in the morning.”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Two-Faced Talk || Morgan & Nadia?

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Morgan & Deirdre’s house

PARTIES: @humanmoodring @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan has Nadia over for a soft chat after realizing she hurt Remmy. Nadia’s a little split on what to think about that.

CONTAINS: discussion of food poisoning

Morgan checked the clock every few seconds. She’d run Remmy out of the house on an errand, Deirdre was at work, and it was almost noon, the time Nadia was supposed to come by to hang...with her fists. Not that she knew that. Or that Morgan had much of an ingenious plan beyond making her suffer for giving Remmy enough Infector Mortis to give them a slow and painful, permanent death. The small knife she used for throwing practice was still in her pocket, sheathed and ready to go. As soon as Nadia announced herself at the door Morgan was on the other side, gripping the handle. She needed answers, first and foremost. She had brought Nadia here for answers, for Remmy, and for the smallest scrap of recompense. However the got there, so be it.

“Hey!” She said brightly. “Thanks for coming over! Come on in—” She took Nadia’s hand and lead her inside, then promptly twisted her arm behind her and shoved her into the house. “I have a question for you. Well, a few, really. But we can start with whether you seriously thought no one was going to figure out you fed Remmy Infector Mortis. Did you really think that one out?”

Nadia only had a shaky amount of control over their body when she went to meet Morgan. It was so stupid; what happened at the cabin should have given her more control, not less. Nadia was willing to give it up, too. And yet, half the time, they seemed to be legitimately sharing a body. When she was in control, Nadia tried to regain control of the situation. When her host was in control, she kind of just stewed and panicked over everything that they’d done until she worked herself up too much emotionally. There were triggers to their switches. High emotions. Pain. Sleep. The last one had only happened a handful of times, and never for very long. At least the two of them could agree that they hated sleeping. They also agreed they needed to talk to Morgan to figure out what the hell was going on. And Nadia wanted to see Remmy. She thought they were fun, especially since she technically didn’t have to kill them.

When Morgan jerked Nadia’s arm behind her back, she gasped out, tears in her eyes. It wasn’t any sort of pain but mostly shock, though Morgan’s grip was cold and ironclad. “What?” she asked, panicked and confused and not really understanding what Morgan was asking. She couldn’t feel her, didn’t understand what was going on. “What?”

Morgan shut the door behind them and flicked the deadbolt shut. “I think I’m making myself very clear,” she said firmly. “Infector Mortis only takes a few hours to take effect, and you may have been smart enough to time it so Remmy got sick in a restaurant full of poisoned humans, but you were still dumb enough to be the only person who came into spitting distance of their food. Did you think no one would figure it out?” She grabbed Nadia by the shirt and shook her. “Answer me. Now.”

When the deadbolt shut, Nadia felt an overwhelming sense of panic overwhelm her as she realized she was locked somewhere with someone that she couldn’t feel. How strange it was, to be trapped with her own emotions. “I--” Tears began to stream down her cheeks. What had she done? She poisoned someone? How could she--

Nadia allowed the tears to keep falling, and she let out a sob. “I’m so sorry.” Truthfully, she hadn’t really been concerned about what would happen after when Remmy was supposed to fucking die. Whatever. Between Nadia’s emotions and her being pissed as hell at Tommy for putting her in this situation, Nadia could handle it. She could. “He made me and I couldn’t-- How do you say no to someone holding your life over your head?”

Morgan released her hold on Nadia as she started to cry. It felt too monstrous, making someone burst into tears and making it worse. She hated seeing anyone cry and even if Nadia deserved all this and worse for what she did to Remmy-- Morgan hissed between her teeth and backed away from her, still blocking the door. “Sorry, for attempted murder. No, wait, leading them on and attempted murder. I didn’t really think you were the play and run type.” But, from what she was saying, there might be a seriously grim reason behind that. “What do you mean he’s got your life over your head? Who? Who made you do this?”

“I am sorry! I’m not a murderer,” Nadia said, and it was true; every attempt at pre-planned killing that she’d attempted had failed, so, really, she wasn’t a murderer. She didn’t plan out kills. They just kind of happened, and she rolled through the punches. “I didn’t want to kill them, and I’m really fucking glad they’re alive.” At least, she didn’t really want them to be dead. “I think they’re sweet and kind and really wonderful. I didn’t want them to die.” Nadia took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself just enough that Nadia wouldn’t take over again. Calm. They both needed calm in order to stick around. “There’s a guy. I thought he was just this really great guy, or, you know, he was really fun. I got kind involved with him, his work. Easy money stuff. And then I couldn’t get out of it. And then he told me to kill this zombie or else. I didn’t realize it was Remmy until too late, I swear!”

Morgan deflated, her rage winding down into annoyance. Some needling, bitter part of her wanted this story to be a lie, just so she could put her fist through the girl’s face and dent her Disney Princess cheekbones. But she was crying so horribly, the questions had caught her so off guard, there was no way she could’ve had this prepared or made it up on her feet. It was just the right kind of stupid; no one would expect anyone to believe something like that unless it was true. “God, you’re a fucking cliche,” Morgan muttered. “Fine. What’s his name? Who’s he work for? If you really don’t want to be held responsible for trying to murder my best friend, you’re gonna have to be a little more proactive than that.”

It was the ghost’s rage that brought Nadia back, that seething undercurrent of emotion that caused her to shut her eyes tightly. Take it back take it back take it back. I don’t want to be here. She rubbed at her temples and shook her head, slight. “I’m sorry,” she said thickly. “I’m getting sick.” Please just take over or say his fucking name. She wanted this conversation to end; she wanted Morgan to just do whatever and get it over with.

Nadia took another steady breath. “Sorry,” she reiterated, her teeth gritted. She had to keep control She had to get herself out of this. “Tommy. His name is Tommy Wright. He’s a criminal.” She swallowed thickly before looking at Morgan with reddened eyes. “I’ll admit that I’m not the greatest person in the world, but I didn’t want to kill Remmy, and I wouldn’t have even tried if I thought I’d had another choice.” At this point, she was sure that the price she was paid wasn’t worth all the damn headache she’d been caused.

The last of Morgan’s aggression flagged away, crushed as she watched her get physically ill on her own angst. “Come here,” she sighed, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I’m not gonna throttle you, okay? You’re safe, for all intents and purposes. She filled a glass with ice water and held it out to her. “You need to hydrate. Also, it’s really hard to cry and drink water at the same time. Take it as a pro tip from a cry baby: chug.” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the counter. Hugs and assurances seemed to have been taken pretty effectively off the table with the whole threat of violence thing, but if Nadia really was on the hook of some criminal, didn’t she need help? “I don’t care about good people and bad people,” she sighed. “I care about whether or not someone hurts my friends. And I care about intentions and helping people my friends care about.” She shrugged. “I’m not sorry I scared you, but I am glad you told me the truth anyway. How much trouble are you in, that it didn’t work? Is this Tommy guy gonna try and hurt you?”

Nadia followed Morgan into the kitchen, feeling marginally more relaxed as she felt like the woman was buying her story. At least, she hoped. It was so fucking hard to tell. Undead. She downed the glass of water, letting it soothe her throat. She actually didn’t remember the last time they’d eaten or drank anything. The last few days had been rough. “Thank you,” she said, putting as much sincerity as possible into it. She even managed to laugh a little bit in a low, self-deprecating way. “I don’t even blame you. You’re just looking out for your friend. It’s noble.” Which seemed to be a zombie trait around these parts. Kind-hearted, brain-eating zombies. Who’d have thought? “I’m in a lot of trouble. Not just because of him, or this.” she kept her voice quiet, her tone somber. “But I’m glad they're not dead. I didn’t want to kill them. I can’t imagine it’ll be that great. He really likes making people afraid, hurting them.”

Morgan plopped down on a chair near Nadia, looking for an answer somewhere in the middle distance. “Do you have somewhere to stay? Somewhere that’s a little hard to find? I don’t really know much about how local criminals work, but I figure they’ve got...I don’t know, goons or something to do their stalking. Maybe you can--I don’t know.” Not stay here. Remmy needed to feel safe here. And even if Deirdre could slice and dice through anyone who came to the door, she didn’t want that kind of responsibility falling on her home, at least not to someone who’d tried to murder Remmy. “Nadia, I am trying really hard to give you the compassion I think you probably deserve, but you should probably stop reminding me of what you did to my friend. Do you need money, to get somewhere safe? Can you take care of yourself? Protect yourself from this Tommy guy before he makes you wreck someone else’s life?”

Did Nadia have somewhere to stay? Well, she’d been squatting in empty houses and setting up a camp in some of the nicer, less supernatural invested land around town so, “Yes, I’ve been moving around a lot. He’s not going to find me.” If he did, she’d just try to talk her way out of that, too. Still, she was tired, and she was running out of words. “Right, sorry, right. No more reminding you of that.” Even if Morgan was kind of the one that kept bringing it up, and she was just trying to fucking apologize, dammit. How many fucking times had she apologized in the last few days? More than she had in a lifetime. “I can take care of myself. Sometimes I’m even good at it.” She gave Morgan a tired smile. “Not that you can tell right now.”

“No, I can’t,” Morgan replied. “So, maybe try to get better at it, okay? Remmy, for some reason, cares about you. They probably still do. As much as I get a hard time for wanting to believe in people, Remmy’s even worse. And I know they’d be upset if something bad happened to you, even after everything.” Morgan stretched out her arms, searching for something in her to give Nadia a pat on the hand, a little something to remind her that she was still a person, that there was still something good to try for and look forward to and whatever low had brought her to this Tommy asshole. But whatever well she had for that stuff wouldn’t open for Nadia. Not today. But she leveled her eyes at the girl and offered what excuse of a smile she could while being sincere. “I’m not going to hurt you, Nadia. As long as you don’t hurt any more of my friends. Intentions matter, always, but so do they. Please get out of my house now.”

[arthurjdrake]

TIMING: Simultaneously with the finale chatzy. LOCATION: Arthur’s House PARTIES: Arthur & @humanmoodring SUMMARY: Nadia and Arthur finally have a heart to heart about the ghost that continues to haunt her memories and discuss the healing possibility that help from others might lend with ZERO interruptions.

TW: Vomit, Descriptions of injury & Blood

With Nadia coming over for a meal and general catch-up Arthur had taken the time to speak to Elena (as best as he could converse with the ghost) about staying upstairs if possible. She hadn’t seemed too happy if the message on his fridge was anything to go by, but judging by the lack of interference he had to his cooking he figured he’d convinced her well enough for the time being. The food was just in the oven - chicken parmigiana wrapped with parma ham, smothered in a homemade tomato sauce and mozzarella with a side of jersey salad and creamy mashed potatoes. He’d also gotten out a bottle of red to share, keenly aware of the fact they had also talked about discussing her mysterious history. Life had taught him one thing, and that was such talks were often helped along with the fortification of a good drink. He was just grabbing the plates out of the cupboard when the doorbell rang, hurrying through the house he pulled the door open with a smile. “Hey there, come in, come in” he ushered stepping back “not too tricky to find me I hope?”

The first thing Nadia noticed when she pulled up to Arthur’s house was that it was really fucking nice. Not in, like, an ostentatious way, but still impressive. She let out a low whistle as she got out of her truck and brushed off the front of her sweater a bit nervously, the material soft and comforting and nice even if the weather was getting pretty warm. Sweaters always seemed like an extra layer of protection to Nadia, and she felt like she needed it. Not because she thought Arthur was going to judge her harshly; she didn’t think that at all. But she’d never had this conversation in person. Not really. However, she wanted to tell Arthur in person. After everything he’d done for her, he deserved it. More than, really. In person was a bit more vulnerable, though, forcing her to deal with emotions, her own emotions, when writing allowed her to kind of distance herself from that. Still, she needed to do this. She smiled at Arthur as he let her in. “Not tricky at all. Nice house, by the way.” She looked around at the open space, relaxing a bit. It suited him, warm and inviting just as he’d been for as long as she’d known him. She shot him a look of concern. “How are you feeling, by the way? All healed up?”

Arthur could understand the use of clothes to help present the appearance and persona you wanted the world to believe and see you for. People, regardless of how good or non-judgemental they claimed to be, all formed first impressions by sight even if it was subconscious. Unlike the more formal appearance he presented at work, typically opting for suits and far more formal attire here in the space of his his home Arthur’s attire was by far more casual. A white tri-blend tee layered under a black and white flannel check shirt with the sleeves folded up above the elbow left intricately monochrome inked (and typically covered) arms free to play host. “Thanks,” he grinned warmly, “not bad isn’t it? Here, take your shoes off… I’ve got food on.” Though the moment of concern softened his grin to a smile, naturally inclined to settle other people’s concerns with words or general physical affection he reached out touching her elbow briefly though the heat of his skin always came as a shock to most people considering his body temperature averaged around 120°F. “All fixed and in working order, promise. Come on, wine and food that I hope you won’t judge too harshly considering your mum’s standards, yeah?”

It was nice to hang out with Arthur in a more laid back setting. Not that working stopped him and Nadia from teasing each other, but there was still always the added factor of them making sure to spend time researching. But the relaxing atmosphere was helping her considerably. It was cool to see Arthur’s tattoos, to see him as a young man and not just a wise, immortal being. This could almost be considered normal, if he wasn’t actually a wise, immortal being and she wasn’t here to tell him about her life. They were just two colleagues, two friends, eating dinner and catching up after a series of hectic weeks. “It’s fantastic, Arthur. And it suits you, too.” She unlaced her boots and sat them neatly near the front door before following him to the kitchen. Arthur’s touch was warm, hot, really, but she didn’t mind. She never felt warm anymore, hadn’t much since she woke up, so the heat was nice. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” Nadia followed him to the kitchen, where the food he’d prepared already smelled wonderful and, she had no doubt, would give her ma a run for her money. “Dude, I’m sure it’s gonna be fantastic. Especially if those cheesecakes were any indication.”

There were certain boundaries that had to be maintained at work, but it was nice to just step back and relax. “A part of me wonders if it’s too big… But in comparison to where I was it’s so much better,” Arthur explained as he wandered through to the kitchen while Nadia unlaced her boots. “It’s not really surprising, I patch up fast even from the worst of states,” there was mild humour in his tone even if the topic wasn’t the most cheery. By the time she joined him he was already pouring a couple of glasses of wine out, setting them on the counter as he went to plate up the salad. “Maybe, can’t say I’ve ever had to compete with someone’s mother when it comes to cooking though.” He grabbed a tea towel, folding it over and pulled open the oven to grab the baking tray out “where did you grow up? What was your life like before… All this supernatural shit? Can’t say I’ve ever asked.” After all, tonight was about getting to know one another.

It was a lot of space, probably too much for Nadia, but that didn’t make it any less homey. Touches of Arthur were all throughout the place as she looked around, eventually wandering to the kitchen. Even though she trusted his words, she looked him over closely. She couldn’t see any noticeable signs of damage. She gave a nod, pleased that he was better. “Those tears really do work wonders, huh?” She took a glass of wine and watched as he dealt with the food, wondering if she should help. “I mean, you stand a fighting chance. It’s been years since I’ve eaten my mom’s cooking.” God, could she even remember what it tasted like? “Do you need any help?” She could probably help him get plates and utensils if he showed her where everything was. As for her past… “I mean, the here and now’s always been more vital, dude.” She felt awkward; after months of giving the bear minimum, she was now having to figure out how to share about her life again. Like she’d ever done it before. Even back before White Crest, before the possession, she’d been shit at this kind of thing. “Uh, I’m from Phoenix, Arizona.” She smiled a bit. “Sometimes it’s kind of funny that I work for an actual phoenix. Can’t really lose my roots, I guess. But, uh, my dad’s Cuban. My mom’s Italian-American, from Chicago. How the fuck they ended up in the fucking desert of all places is anyone’s guess, but…” That was very little about her, about her life. “I mean,” she laughed drily, “my life kind of sucked before I woke up here. I was a lonely kid, a lonely teenager, only one real friend in college. Then, she left, and I went a little wild for awhile and,” and she got possessed, but the words were thick in her mouth. She took a drink. “Yeah. But what about you? What’s this life been like?”

“Bring you back from the brink of death more or less, last I heard they’re one of the rarest commodities on the black market… Not easy to get your hands on them. Phoenixes are rare to come upon and even harder to pick out of a crowd.” Arthur didn’t mind, it wasn’t the most complex meal but it tasted good and that was what mattered. “I think I’m alright here, could you grab the knives and forks out that draw there? Second one down,” he pointed out a drawer not far from where she was. “True, but it’s nice to know where people come from,” he countered lightly not in a prying sense but a simple sharing of opinion from someone that liked to get to know others. “Huh, go figure,” he laughed quietly at the irony but grew quiet as Nadia spoke.

Taking the plates over to the table nearby and setting them down he nodded along, but his expression grew sympathetic as she trailed off and he didn’t press for the time being. He settled in his chair, contemplating the answer “it’s been… I’ve been lucky, Mercy’s always tried her best whenever I’ve had to be rehomed… Always tried to put me with good people” it didn’t always work, but she tried and that’s what counted in his mind. “I was adopted by a couple from London, stayed there most of my life - school, the works. I was an only child which had its perks but I think I would’ve liked a sibling... My parents had… big expectations for me, and it was hard not to cave under the effort of trying to carry and live up to them.”

He took a sip of wine seeming to grow quieter, “I’m thankful for every opportunity they gave me but it was hard - coming to terms and trying to understand what I was without anyone there to help me understand…” he rested his chin on his hand “thought I was losing my mind when I started getting flashes of all these past lifetimes. Doctors couldn’t figure out what was going on. Did every scan under the sun… Eventually I knew better than to mention it… Until it eventually came back what I was.” It hadn’t been the easiest journey but he’d gotten there. “Anyway, how’s the food?”

“You need to keep safe, then.” Hearing that his tears were incredibly rare and valuable did nothing to help soothe Nadia. Worrying about Arthur getting attacked because of what he was added itself to her list of things to look out for when it came to her friends. She grabbed the silverware and helped him set the table before they sat down, a lot on her mind.

She smiled a bit as he mentioned how Mercy made sure he was well taken care of. “She’s a good friend, I can tell.” She remembered the older woman’s request, trying to think about how to best go about asking him what he wanted for his birthday. She’d figure out how to do that later. At the mention of him being an only child, she nodded. “I was an only kid, too. I was enough trouble on my own, and I was the kind of kid that wanted-- well, needed to be alone sometimes. Both my parents came from big families, though. I’m sure they wanted more kids, but I was a handful, I guess.”

She took a bite of food, savoring the flavor of it. She couldn’t remember her mother’s cooking. She couldn’t. It was a bit depressing to think about, but she figured that if Arthur’s cooking wasn’t just as good, it was a close fucking second. There were so many things from her life in Phoenix that she was beginning to realize that she was forgetting. The taste of her ma’s cooking, the type of beer her father drank, the color of Brooke’s eyes. She knew what it was like to get flashes of things that she didn’t understand, even if it was for different reasons that Arthur. “I think you’ve done a good job with getting from where you were to where you are now, for what it’s worth,” she told him. She took another bite of food. After she swallowed, she said, “It’s fucking fantastic.”

“I’m as safe as houses, barely anyone knows about me - besides you, Evelyn and Mercy… That’s it. And it’s how I’d prefer to keep it.” Arthur often got frustrated when people treated him with kid gloves because of his physicality, and it occasionally led to random acts of attempted heroics to try and prove them otherwise - which almost always ended up proving their point that he was extremely breakable. “Plus,” he added as an afterthought, “out of most supernaturals phoenixes are usually the ones that blend in the easiest… Except for the pinfeathers. But other than that we don’t have weird feeding habits, we don’t prey on people… We just… live.”

“She is. A pain in the ass at times, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything,” he admitted fondly. It was nice to be able to relate to someone in a way, “it’s weird, I get flashes of my first life - fragments really, but I had loads of siblings and I hated it… Yet now I hate not having them,” he supposed it just went to show what you took for granted at times. “Ah, yeah I was always too worried to act up as a kid… Felt like every moment had to count for something or else I’d somehow failed…” not the healthiest mentality for a child to have, but looking back he could recognise his faults. “But I get that - wanting to be alone, silence is good when you just need to recharge but sometimes you need people to balance that…”

He ate a few mouthfuls, a comfortable silence settling over the room between the clinks of cutlery and occasional sip of wine. Nadia’s remark broke the silence and he gave her a smile, “you too… You’re a long way from home,” it was an idle remark, made in passing contemplation of the little information she’d given “ life isn’t easy, but we all make the best of what we have don’t we? It’s what we do with it that truly counts for anything.” His smile broadened at the compliment, “if that’s the verdict on the dinner no clue what you’ll say about dessert.”

“That’s good,” Nadia said, glad she’d been cautious when talking to people about Arthur. If anyone guessed anything about him, it was probably that the man might be a spellcaster of some kind. She really had thought he was, like, a wizard or something after the way he’d healed after their first meeting, with his more bookish tendencies, and, as he’d mentioned, his mostly human facade. “You blend in pretty well. I don’t think I’d have guessed what you were if you hadn’t told me. I mean, I knew a bit about phoenixes in mythology, but I don’t know if I’d have figured you out.”

She smiled at the way he fondly talked of Mercy, reminding her of the way the woman referred to him online. They cared about each other, and it was nice to see. Nice to be able to feel, though it was muted and muddled. “I mean, you two have known each other for forever. Literally.” What was it like to know someone for that long? She couldn’t imagine. She also couldn’t imagine siblings. “I think it was for the best that I grew up alone.” Though, who knew? Maybe she’d be better at the emotions thing. Or, possibly, she’d be worse. “I didn’t act up too much. I kept my grades up and was usually quiet, even though I listened to the wrong kinds of music. My father and I got frustrated with each other a lot. He was always mad, and I always wanted to know why. When I couldn’t figure it out, I gave him reasons.” She took a drink, feeling like she was talking too much. She was talking too much, and about the wrong things. This wasn’t why she’d come here.

Nadia was a long way from home. She was as far away from home as she could be while still being in the same country. She missed home sometimes so much that it ached. But she knew she couldn’t go back. The few people that had she’d known and loved didn’t feel the same about her. “We’re both a long way from home,” she said quietly. She raised her glass to him. “You’re right. We’ve just got to make the best of it. Personally, I’m glad to be here. In spite of how I got here.” She grinned. “If deserts better than dinner, you might be stuck with me. Sorry, but you’ve provided me with a job, good conversation, and stellar food. I’d be a fool to leave.”

“That’s how I’d prefer it to be, most people make the mistake… I’m happy to let them believe it.” If not for certain other traits it was vaguely passable and Arthur would happily stick to that story because it meant keeping him off people’s radar for what he truly was.

“Yeah, kind of crazy when you think about it. She’s barely ever missed a birthday or like-- anything. Even though I can’t even remember my original one now.” It was part of what kept them both sane and in touch with the world around them. “Though doesn’t mean she doesn’t drive me mad at times,” he huffed, but regardless the words were spoken fondly. “You think?” who could say what anyone would be, circumstances and situations played a role in affecting how a person turned out. It didn’t do to dwell for long, but it was a curious thing to contemplate occasionally. Hearing Nadia explain her dynamic with her father caused him to cock his head a little, “it’s hard. Parents are just trying their best to stop kids falling into the same traps they did… But often I find in trying to avoid them they often help steer a path directly towards them anyway. Sometimes you just need to know when to be upfront.”

“True…” he raised his own cup marginally, “to finding new homes” and new families. Though that was left unsaid. “Yeah? I’m still not sure I’m sold - like on one hand it’s great to be in a place with so many other supernaturals but the risk of death or serious maiming is a big damper on truly enjoying it. You know?” He finished up his plate, looking humoured by the remark “well, offer’s always there if you need a place to crash and there’s always food to spare in my kitchen.” Gathering the plates up he headed back to the kitchen, dropping them in the dishwasher before returning with a plate of coconut and passion fruit slices. “Come on,” he waved her over from the dining table towards the lounge and the vivarium situated to one side of it where his tortoises roamed. “Get comfy.” Then they could sit down and talk.

“It’s certainly a good way to protect yourself,” Nadia said, still thinking about what Arthur mentioned about his tears being valuable on supernatural black markets. She dreaded to think what would happen to her friend if someone captured him to use just to make a few dollars.

“Birthdays are pretty important,” she said with a grin. “Speaking of birthdays, when’s yours?” She knew the answer thanks to Mercy, but it’d be best to hold off on that information. She still needed to figure out what he might possibly want, both for the valkyrie and for herself. She wanted to get him something nice, too. Even if she went with what she told Mercy and went the more homemade route. Time, effort, those were the kinds of gifts she’d appreciated when she actually gave a damn about that kind of thing. Birthdays hadn’t been a big deal for Nadia in years, though, even before the possession. These days, she’d appreciated being about to not think about it, drink a little by herself, and then not sleep. It’d been an average day of a birthday, and that had been what she wanted. She appreciated Arthur’s approach to talking about parents. It gave her a good out. “Yeah, everybody says they want better for their kids. Sometimes they just, like, go about it the wrong way, I guess.”

That was the kind of toast she could get behind. She took a drink and laughed, thinking about all the shit she’d been through during the last few months. “Oh, White Crest is hell. Like, probably literally? I was getting sent giant pallets of salt by a company run by demons. But I’ve felt more comfortable here than I have anywhere else, even back home. I have a job that I’ve always wanted and more friends than I’ve ever had in my life.” She grinned as they moved to the sitting area. “I might not crash on your couch, but don’t tempt me to come raid your fridge, Arthur.” She got situated, looking around for the tortoises she’d heard so much about. She was putting off the inevitable, really.

“It’s worked this long, though so far as the hunters I’ve met in town… Most don’t really seem all that good at their jobs, which… isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Arthur remarked thoughtfully. “But yeah, it’s worked so far so… I’ll keep on that track.”

“Mine? Depends, the original - I can’t remember but apparently it was sometime in winter but in this lifetime it’s around the twentieth of June… That’s the day I’ve celebrated though it might be out by a little bit.” Considering there was a period between him coming back and Mercy finding a family to place him with but more or less that was the way it had always been. It worked well enough so no point trying to fix what wasn’t broken. “How about you?” It’d be useful to know for himself, so he could try to arrange something for Nadia when hers did come around. It seemed like the right and good thing to do after all.

“It’s been referred to as a hellmouth in most of the texts I’ve read soooo… take that one how you will” he huffed, this truly was one of the most weird and interesting places he’d ever lived in his life. “By demons? You didn’t sign any contracts right?” He shifted as he settled on the sofa, folding a leg up comfortably. “You’re welcome to it, always spare food. I’ve got four spare rooms going upstairs as well if you ever do feel the need especially to escape those uh, screams…” But that was beside the point, he took a bite of the dessert square looking over at her. “So… You don’t like ghosts?” it was a gentle prod to hopefully lay the path for the true conversation this night was meant to be about.

Snorting a bit, Nadia thought about the hunters that she personally knew. Alain and Kaden were both good guys, even if she didn’t believe in the same things as them. She couldn’t imagine them hunting Arthur down just to sell his tears on the black market. But, then again, she didn’t really know them while they were hunting. Better safe than sorry. “Yeah, that’s smart.”

She nodded. “Twentieth’s pretty soon,” she said with a smile. “You know I’m gonna get you something, right? You could help a gal out, you know, give her a hint, maybe?” She twirled the stem of her wine glass slowly. “I mean, it was back in February. The twenty-third. I didn’t really celebrate.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t that big of a deal.” All things considered, it had been an alright birthday. It had just been a regular Sunday, which is exactly what she’d wanted.

“Hellmouth is fuckng right,” Nadia muttered. “No, no contract. Someone signed me up for a subscription. It’s been, like, cancelled now, though.” She relaxed a little, taking another drink of her wine. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind. My apartment’s mostly scream free… Mostly.” She grimaced a bit, thinking about the essential oils subscription and what a bitch that was going to be. “On second thought, I might be over here, like, once a month. Just when she gets a package delivered.” She picked up a desert square of her own, but, with his question, she wasn’t feeling too hungry. Nadia gave a slight laugh. “Not really ghosts so much as one in particular. But they,” she paused, “scare me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “One of them kind of, like, ruined my life, so.”

“It is,” Arthur agreed to the date being near, but really what did it matter? It was just another year and another birthday. “Honestly, I don’t have much I want. I’d be happy with anything you got me you know? The sentiment is more what matters… Really I’d be happier with like… people coming over, having a meal and just a nice ordinary night you know? Pizza and beers, maybe a barbecue - I haven’t had a good barbecue in ages.”

“Signed you up for a subscription? What are they? Fae? They love their deals, almost as much as spellcasters do” he groaned as he leaned back into the sofa pulling one leg up and tucking it comfortably under the other that still hung off the cushions. “Mostly? She hasn’t done anything recently has she?” he paused gauging Nadia’s reaction to his next question “I’m guessing you know about her… supernatural thing right?”

But talk turned to ghosts, and Arthur tried to be tactful in his line of conversation. Though there was no easy way to let a conversation like this come about. “Right… I got the impression… Do you… I know it’s hard for you,” he started sympathetically, “do you want to walk me through what happened?”

Well, that was absolutely no help to Nadia for Mercy, but it did solidify her thought that he’d probably enjoy something with thought and effort over something expensive. “You know, a barbecue doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I still have leftover fireworks from a thing,” she said. Which, she’d told Erin it’d be for a barbecue. This would certainly make it less of a lie.

She laughed a little bit. “She thought she was doing something nice. It’s the thought that counts. And, like, at least I can look back on it and laugh, now.” Of course, she wasn’t laughing any time Regan’s subscriptions came in and the screaming started, but still. “I mean, she can get a bit… loud sometimes,” she said, wincing a bit. “Yeah, I know about her thing. It’s the worst kept secret ever.” She couldn’t say what Regan’s thing was since she was still bound by Deirdre’s promise, but she figured, if Arthur was mentioning screaming, then he knew. Really, the fact that Arthur knew wasn’t even surprising. At the rate things were going, everyone was going to know about Regan before Regan even knew.

Nadia took a bite of her desert square. It was good, but it still stuck to her throat. She swallowed tightly. “Yeah, yeah, I can walk you-- I mean, there’s really not too much to tell.” She laughed breathlessly, humorlessly. “I was, like, a junior in college. Everything was shitty. We-- me, my parents, my single friend-- we thought I was depressed, which, I mean. But I was getting some bad blackouts, sometimes for days at a time. My friend, she-- I mean, she left. Whatever.” She took a long sip of wine. “It got worse, nothing was helping. I’d wake up and not know where I was, who I was, what I was doing.” She could see herself in a mirror, covered in blood. Whose blood? Whose? “Then, I don’t know. I woke up in White Crest in late December a few months ago,” she said quietly. “Some kids had helped me out. A human soul’s worth thirty thousand dollars, in case you were wondering.”

“A thing?” Arthur inquired curiously, though considering how often fireworks were used for things in America it wasn’t all that surprising of a thing to hear someone say. “Well, if you want to come along you’re more than welcome to.”

“I guess so, though salt seems like an interesting thing to be signed up for…” Useful for ghosts amongst other supernatural things he supposed but he could see how bulk orders could soon stack up to be infuriating. “It is, Kaden accidentally told me but I wasn’t planning on mentioning it to her considering how she gets whenever that sort of stuff comes up in conversation.” It wasn’t surprising how entrenched people could become when the foundations of their very reality of life seemed to be under threat. In a way, Arthur felt bad for her but equally it was important to recognise the danger her denial posed to those that were around her. “The issue is, the longer her denial goes on the more harm she poses to those around her - including you, which unfortunately doesn’t sit very well with me.”

As Nadia spoke, Arthur remained quiet occasionally taking a sip of wine but otherwise he left her to tell her tale not wishing to interrupt her already staccato rhythm. “Do you know anything about the ghost that possessed you?” from the fragments of an overall tale it was clear enough to him that was what had happened. He set his glass aside, sitting forwards and reaching for Nadia’s hand slowly. A quiet show of support and reminder that he would always stand in her corner no matter what. Though he knew in a town like White Crest it wasn’t easy to say she wasn’t at risk again? “Has anything else like that happened while you’ve been here?” he asked, rubbing his thumb in a small soothing arc over her hand.

“I ended up not using them in the way I thought,” Nadia said breezily, not bothering to explain what exactly her “thing” was. Probably best to not mention blowing up the mime restaurant only to end up with the town invaded by mimes for weeks. Especially when those mimes ended up landing him in the hospital.

“Yeah, you ask a neighbor to borrow some salt one time, and you’re stuck with a reputation.” Not an unjustifiable one, though. Nadia kept salt lines up around her house for months, even after the banishment had been put up. She laughed a bit, thinking about just how Arthur bringing up Regan’s banshee-ness would go in a conversation. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But she’s really not dangerous. Not intentionally. And as long as I can predict when something might upset her,” she flinched a bit, “which, okay, not the easiest, but she’d only really hurt me in person, and I can-- I’m a-- I feel people’s emotions-- empath, so if she starts getting upset or whatever I can kind of prepare for things.”

This time, when Nadia laughed, it was sharp and insincere. “She was a fucking criminal,and she made me a criminal, and she ruined my life for six fucking years.” She sagged a bit under Arthur’s touch, one knee pulled up to her chest and her head resting on it. She didn’t know why it was both relieving and exhausting to tell him this. Maybe it was because it was in person, and his comfort felt real, and having him be here and listen to her meant so much. She should tell him the truth, that she was scared about getting possessed again, that it’d happened more than once, that she knew her ghost hadn’t given up quite yet. Instead, she gave him a watery smile. “It’s been a bit touch and go for a while, but I should be in the clear, ghost wise, now. Just lingering shit, you know? I’m sure your ghost is great.”

“Well, I love fireworks and anything fire related so you’re welcome to bring them along if you want. We can annoy the neighbours with them.”

Arthur laughed at the sentiment, it was kind of funny to hear her say that out loud and the idea of these ridiculously cursed subscriptions was a little bit funny. “Who else got one? I’m curious to know what hellish gifts people were getting from this company.” Nadia did her best to dissuade his concerns, unfortunately, he was schooled enough to know that glass wasn’t the only thing a sound that loud could damage. “Do you know how sound breaks things?” it was a question of genuine curiosity but he explained anyway slipping easily into his more studious nature “it makes things vibrate. The pitch influences how fast those things vibrate and if it’s high and sustained enough things break because of that….” He paused, Nadia might have faith in Regan’s control but Arthur wasn’t quite so certain on the topic “the control is what concerns me… From the stuff I’ve seen people posting online about damage and stuff she doesn’t have it. And depending on what kind of decibels those screams are hitting… If someone’s stood too close they could be seriously injured and they could potentially die. There’s not much that can prepare you for death - and that’s me speaking from experience.” Perhaps it was a solemn subject to touch on, but he wanted to make sure Nadia was truly prepared for the potential consequences of continuing to associate with Regan. Perhaps it was unfair, Arthur knew it wasn’t her fault but Nadia’s well-being was of more paramount concern to him presently.

As she sagged, Arthur continued to hold her hand rubbing the calming pattern into her skin. “What is it you’re afraid people will judge you for?” she’d mentioned it online before they’d arranged this, but Arthur wanted to try and help her work through some of her concerns regarding the things that ahd happened to her - which in his opinion were far beyond her own control. But admitting that was hard and scary in itself. In the kitchen his phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He’d call whoever was phoning back later. He didn’t prompt her to look up from where she’d rested her head, curling into herself in a protective fashion he’d seen countless times across his lifetimes. “Is that what haunts you at night?” the question was softly spoken, “or is it the fear of what this ghost would do if they did come back?” It could very well be both, despite their similarities they were distinctly separate. One concerned the past, and one the future. Her watery smile earned a sympathetic look, and he shifted to wrap his arms around her pulling her in for a tight embrace of comforting warmth that radiated from him. “I get that, but there’s no need to be ashamed of being scared… Possession is… it’s a violation of your person. Your very rights. Being scared of having your control taken away is one of the most valid fears anyone could ever experience - and I’m sure this is something you already know, but it takes time to adjust to life after experiencing something like that…” He pulled back a fraction looking at her with a steady and intense look, “but-- I want you to know if you ever need me. I’m here and I’ll always have your back, no matter the time or how bad you think things are. I’ll always be in your corner. Hm?”

“You know, I don’t know if it was a subscription, but a woman in town was getting sent mayo and bones.” Nadia shivered just thinking about sticking her hands in that fucking mayo, the demon with the goat eyes’ voice in her head. “And you probably saw that Kaden was getting sent large baguettes. That was fun.” She sighed, knowing that what Arthur said about the vibrations was true. Still, she had faith that Regan would figure it out. “I know that her denial is… concerning. But she doesn’t want to hurt people, and I think that’s almost enough to, if not stop the denial, then to at least put her in the frame of mind to accept help. I’m hoping she’ll talk to someone.” She paused, thinking it over. Hanging out with Regan was high risk, high reward. High risk because it could kill her. High reward because she was Nadia’s best friend, and she was easy to spend time with. Besides. Nadia was beginning to enjoy taking risks. “I know she could kill me, but it’s not going to happen. One because that would be such a shitty thing to do to her. Two because I’m going to be careful, I promise. I don’t have a death wish. I’ve got six years to make up for.”

Six years-- almost seven, really-- that she’d never get back. Her relationship with her parents was gone. Even if she could somehow get all the charges against her dropped, it didn’t matter. There was a stain on her now, one that would never go away. She felt it like a ghost, saw it in the mirror every time she passed by. What was she afraid people would judge her for? She was scared they’d see her the way she did late at night when she could do nothing but think. “I’m afraid they won’t-- I’m afraid they’ll just see a criminal or worse. They’ll just see someone to be pitied.” One day, someone was going to look too close and see that something was missing. Maybe the only reason she saw it was because she knew who she was supposed to be before all of this. “I dream about what I did while-- or what I might’ve done. What I could've done.” Everyone died, usually, in her dreams, and she’s left alone all over again. Arthur’s arms around her was the last strike against her resolve. She gripped him tightly, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know who I am, these days,” she said roughly. “But thank you for trusting me and being in my corner.”

“Bones in mayo? Or both separately?” Arthur questioned in mild concern, “see the bones I wouldn’t mind so much… The mayo, eugh” he contorted his face and stuck his tongue out. Definitely not a fan of condiments. The mention of the baguettes made him laugh, “I saw that… Didn’t realise it was Regan’s doing - that’s even better,” he couldn’t help the laugh it was unfortunate but it was kind of funny as a bystander to watch the torment. Even he wasn’t above a good laugh occasionally especially considering the baguettes really didn’t seem like that bad of a thing to receive.

His mood grew a tad more serious “doesn’t want to, doesn't equate to won’t Nadia.” Ultimately, it wasn’t his job nor his position to lecture her or anyone else, but he would advise caution where he felt it was needed. Not that this wasn’t something she had no doubt considered, but he had to at least give himself the peace of mind of saying it out loud. Making sure she heard him and understood his concern for her well-being. “Fine… But it doesn’t mean I don’t think that this isn’t something she needs to come to terms with. Is there no one that can help her with it?”

“Which is understandable,” he said softly, “but sometimes pity, sympathy, compassion - whatever you want to call it from other people isn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it does us a world of good to let someone else feel sorry, step in and help take care of you…” That wasn’t to say it was easy, “taking down those walls that you’ve built if only for a little while will probably help you find some peace and time to recharge.” He squeezed her hands affectionately, “being vulnerable takes a great deal of strength and mental fortitude… To be open to letting other people listen and help and the fact you’re here, that you’re talking about it is a step in the right direction.”

Arthur kept Nadia hugged tight for a long while, pressing her face to his shoulder as he rubbed his other hand over the curve of her spine. “You will. With time, I’m sure you will,” he assured her quietly holding on for a little while longer before he eventually pulled back his hands resting on her shoulders. “I’m proud of you Nadia.”

“Separately,” Nadia said. She pause. “I think? The bones and the mayo were equally bad because they were apparently human bones and had to be examined.” Honestly, after putting her hands in the shit, she planned to never even look at mayo ever again. Laughing along with him, she said, “It’s funny now, and I know she was just being nice, but damn. It was the fucking worse.”

She sighed. “I know. I know. But I trust her not to hurt me. Not intentionally, and I’d never blame her for an accident.” Nadia pinched the bridge between her nose. She didn’t want to keep talking about this. She appreciated Arthur’s words and the fact that he obviously cared for her. It was touching. Still, she was a big girl, even if she didn’t remember six years’ worth of life experiences. She knew how to be cautious, and she could make her own decisions, even if they were fucking stupid sometimes. “It is, and she will, eventually. She’ll get help. It’ll be alright. I believe that.”

Taking in his words was hard, even if Nadia knew they were true. Because she felt all of it—pity, sympathy, compassion— so vividly from other people, and she knew when they were sincere about it, but that didn’t change the way she was. Part of it was the way she was raised: distant parents that wanted to help her but didn’t know how when time after time nothing they did seemed to help. Part of it was also experience: everyone she’d let into her life before left, sometimes cruelly. Countless arguments and phone calls and conversations that led to heartbreak and disappointment weren’t worth it, in the end. She didn’t see her walls as walls; it was more like a suit of armor, and once someone found the flaws and worked their way in, rust was more likely to set in. At that point, armor’s less of a protection and more of a hindrance. She laughed a bit, even though she was crying. She hated the weakness, though she wouldn’t say so. “Being vulnerable sucks major ass, bird boss, but if this is a step in the right direction, then I’m willing to work on it.” Even if it led to more hurt in the end.

They stayed there for a bit, and Nadia allowed the rust to set in. One day, maybe she’d lay her armor down, wouldn’t need it. Maybe in White Crest was different than Phoenix in that way. She was finding comfort and warmth here that she’d never felt before, and that meant something, despite the shit show the place seemed to be. As Arthur leaned back, she wiped her eyes a bit. “Thank you, Arthur.”

As Nadia chose to insist again Arthur fought against the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine,” but it didn’t mean the worry didn’t linger after the fact. But he didn’t want to push too far into that conversation tonight. It wasn’t worth delving into.

Arthur knew his words probably weren’t new. But the lesson of building walls or plating armour plate on top of plate could keep the world and new experiences from ever coming into your life. They could keep you safe and warm but when you waded into waters too deep armour would only weigh you down until you ended up being swept away by the currents. Not to mention their capacity for keeping people at a distance and protecting yourself from hurt was perhaps one of the oldest things he’d seen people do but in the end they had always been left wanting and lonely. That wasn’t something he wanted to see happen to Nadia and if it meant working to keep her safe, to see her through to those better times then he’d happily put the graft in to help where he could. “I know and it might mean down the line you’re opening yourself up to hurt… But you’re opening yourself up to love as well and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that love is always worth the pain.”

“Ah, least I could do…” he smiled at her fondly, before moving to take his near empty wine-glass. “I think we’re in need for a refill.” With that he got up and headed back to the kitchen but not before ruffling her hair affectionately.

It was mid-pour in the kitchen that it happened. A heat throbbing from the scar on his left palm, the searing pressure as if some invisible force had taken him by the throat as though intent on collapsing it in on itself. He gagged, choking as he felt his air supply cut off, as if it had suddenly been sucked out of the room. The glass and bottle fell, seemingly in slow-motion but in reality it was mere seconds, the crimson swirl glistening preceding the ringing crash of his glass smashing into hundreds of shards on the stone floor. His hands grasp his throat as he staggered, falling as black spots swam across his vision. There was a brief moment of respite, before the pain caused his body to lurch and the cry of pain was stifled into a weak gurgle.

Arthur could never claim to know what it felt like to drown, he’d never been in water for as long as he’d existed. But the shock of icy brackish liquid was instantly debilitating. Strangely, he supposed it was the nearest thing he could imagine to being set on fire, though this was not the familiar warmth but a blistering heat that felt like every one of his cells was being set alight. He gasped for air, but seemingly swallowed only water. Over and over he gasped and gulped greedily, for any hint of oxygen yet the act only served to allow more and more deadly water to be inhaled and swallowed. Hold your breath! He tried fighting for as long as he could until every cell screamed let me breath; his mouth was forced ajar once more gasping again as the phantom water forced its way into his mouth, up his nose and into his bursting lungs.

Tears burned like vinegar as they ran down his cheeks. It hurts. He thought. Why does it hurt so much? Please, please make it stop. Please, I beg of you.

In his last conscious moments, he tried to open his eyes, to see something familiar, but all he saw was the inky darkness of eternal night and a name upon his lips. “Freyja.”

As Nadia sat waiting for Arthur to come back with their wine, she thought about the night’s events, how they went better than she could have expected. Maybe she needed to stop expecting people to hate her for all of this. No one, not a single person she’d talked about this with, blamed her for what happened. She knew, deep down, that she was the victim in the scenario, as much as she hated it. She’d been the one to be possessed, she’d had her life taken from her. She didn’t remember any of the things she’d done, didn’t know how truly awful they were. Still, there was a part of her that expected to be stronger. She had always thought that she could fight off whatever problems came her way. Metaphorically, of course. She wasn’t a big fighter, otherwise. Obviously, the fight had been taken out of her for six years.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sounds of glass shattering. Nadia jumped up from the couch and rushed into the kitchen, not sure what to expect. Certainly not Arthur, on the ground, water gurgling from his mouth, the corners of them burning from it. “No no no nonono,” she cried out as she ran to him, sliding on her knees a bit as she got close. She wiped away the water from his mouth, the tears from his cheeks. His pain, his fear and confusion, all of it was loud and awful in her head. She couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for him since she knew she didn’t feel everything. As he called out for Freyja, for Mercy, she pulled him into her lap, trying to make him comfortable. “It’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

Closing her eyes, she begged for it to be okay. Because, truthfully, she didn’t know. For several minutes, she did her best to calm him and herself down. Before he passed out, he was acting like he was drowning, but he didn’t keep showing the symptoms once he was asleep. All she could do was offer him comfort, trying to assure him that he was alright. She moved them away from the spilled wine and waited for him to wake up. “Please, please be okay.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how long he was out for, seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time seemed to crawl to a stop as the darkness clouded his vision and a fatal liquid spilled from his mouth; corrosive like acid turning his mouth into a frothing grey mess and cracked his lips until they blistered and bled. His body contorted before it grew still, eyes unseeing and for a moment there was nothing.

He returned to consciousness with a rasping gurgled gasp, flopping over onto his side as he hacked up inky brackish water streaked with blood and spittal. His mouth burned and blearily he could make out someone else in the room with him. But only one thought was on his mind. “Mo-” he tried to say, but the word was cut off by another hacking cough that splattered beads of blood over the floor leaning over on his hands that crunched into the shards of glass on the floor.

“I-- mobile now” he felt faint, as if the world were about to spin away from him again if he moved too fast. But the world hardly mattered if the hollow ache that radiated from the palm of his hand was anything to go by. The lack of familiar warmth and connection from the person invisibly tethered on the other end. He slipped, tripping and catching himself as he blindly searched on the counter for his phone with a trembling hand.

When his fingers latched on, the device was wrenched off the counter and Arthur sank once more to the ground his back pressed into the cabinets. Hands shaking as he saw the missed calls and set about playing the voicemail she’d left. Fresh tears tracked down his face, stabbing the redial button and holding the phone to his ear. “Pickup pickup pickup. Pleasepleaseplease,” there was a strange desperation in the words.

It went to voicemail.

“Fuck!” he spat, jabbing the button again and waiting. Again, and again, and again.

Eventually, on the seventh try Arthur let the dial go through lines of healed skin contrasting to the gruesome maw of his mouth from the connection to Mercy’s death. “Frey? Frey! FUCK Please pick up, pleasepleaseplease. I need you to pick up right now and tell me you’re okay. I felt– it can’t– You didn’t–” he thumped his hand on the ground, blind to the glinting shards that pricked his skin and bled fresh trails of crimson through his fingers. “PICK UP. DON’T YOU DARE! PICK UP RIGHT NOW!” Did it matter he was screaming into the receiver curling over it to make his voice heard wherever she’d gone? Would she hear him then? He pressed the phone harder to his ear, a sob that shook the very foundations of his person working its way up his throat, voice breaking when he spoke after the extended silence. “Please… We only just found each other. I can’t– I can’t lose you now. Please come back, come home. Just one more time… One more time. For me. We’ll make it work. It’ll be different. I promise this time it’ll be different. I’ll be different.” He exhaled, blinking past the tears “I never got to tell you I lo- No. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you when you come back. Please come back…”

By the end of the call he was left staring in anguish at the photo ID on the call his breath short and sharp, shaking as he ended the call. Too fast. Too much. It was all too much. A trembling hand pressed to his mouth, trying to stifle the pain that settled in his chest as he shook his head against the overwhelming realisation of what had happened.

Yelping as Arthur started coughing and leaned over, Nadia sat back to give the man some space. The blood was concerning, and she didn’t have any time at all to process what was happening as he scrambled for his phone. Mercy, something was wrong with Mercy. She could tell before he made the call, before he started screaming into his phone. When he leaned against the cabinets, she moved closer to him, hoping to comfort him with her presence. She didn’t know what else to do. She really didn’t. So Nadia did what she could. She sat with him. His pain was like nothing she’d ever really felt before, but so was the love that was causing it. God, it was miserable. It felt so miserable, and she could barely process it.

When Arthur started breathing too fast, his words tapering out, she grabbed his hands. “Hey, no, hey!” She made him look away from his phone and towards her. “Hey. I don’t-- I don’t know what’s happening, okay? But it’s-- Mercy can’t die, right? Not easily. Right? So it’s--” Fuck, she didn’t know how to do this. “It’ll be-- She’s gotta be okay. She’s going to be okay.” Nadia really, really hoped so. Mercy, in the short time that she’d known the woman, was probably one of the toughest people out there, and the only thing that could kill her was having her head cut off. There was a brief moment of fear, the thought of Arthur choking because of some weird connection with Mercy that made it to where he couldn’t breathe, but he had seemed like he was drowning, not just suffering from no air.

The tables had turned, and Nadia found herself wrapping Arthur in a hug instead of the other way around. She couldn’t affect other people’s emotions; only feel them. But she tried to put as much comfort out as she could, hoping that somehow it would help. Hoping that, somehow, Mercy was okay. “It’ll be alright, Arthur. It will. I promise.”

[kadavernagh]

Bump in the Night II || Regan & Nadia

Nadia asked Regan to help her sleep, as a guise for Deirdre making some renovations. But there’s an uninvited guest.

When Regan had offered to spend time with Nadia while she slept, she didn’t think Nadia would actually take her up on that offer. Not that it wasn’t genuine, of course, but she figured Nadia would be too embarrassed, too stubborn. She didn’t think twice at the request, though. Regan grabbed a pillow, a small bag of necessities, and some ice cream before making the short trip upstairs into Nadia’s apartment. She was quickly let in, and she gave her friend an awkward wave. “More Neapolitan. I did my research, and it seems that ice cream and gossip are a sleepover tradition.” She explained, stuffing the dessert in the freezer. “Um, do you… do you want me on the couch, or would it be more helpful if I were in the bedroom with you?”

There were few things Nadia was sure of, but she was certain that Deirdre owed her big time for this. The sheer potential embarrassment and panic had her cleaning her apartment for about an hour before Regan arrived, making sure her bedroom didn’t look… weird. Rhiannon had watched the entire time in her judgy cat way, but, by the time Regan knocked on the door, it was clean. Nadia smiled at her friend and the ice cream. “You know, I’ve heard the same thing. Means it’s gotta be real, right?” She fidgeted a bit. “Nah, no, that shouldn’t be necessary.” Not to mention potentially dangerous. “Though, you can sleep wherever you want, really. If you want the bed, I can take the couch. I’ve fallen asleep just about anywhere in this place at least once, so I can probably sleep wherever.”

Regan had a bad feeling about letting Nadia sleep in a different room than her, but she pushed that discomfort down. Since when had she listened to her gut, anyways? Feelings were just that -- not rooted in evidence. “I’m perfectly fine with the couch.” Regan smiled, depositing her pillow on the blanket-covered, cushy-looking couch. “It’s not good for the spine, but a few nights won’t be an issue.” It went unsaid how many nights she spent sleeping on the back-breaking, hard couch that lived in her office at the morgue. She met Nadia’s eyes. “I also -- uh, I wanted to thank you. For not being too stubborn to ask for my help. I know it’s difficult, but you’re doing the right thing to take care of yours--” Thunk thunk thunk. She paused, staring at Nadia’s floor. The sound came from below them. “Is Ms. Carmody doing work in her unit? At this hour?” Her eyes drifted over to Nadia’s clock. It was approaching 11 PM. 

“It’s a relatively comfy couch, the cat can attest,” Nadia mused. “Not that she’ll bother you tonight.” She sent a glare at the cat, who flicked her tail and disappeared into the bedroom, likely to get cat hair on Nadia’s pillow. Fine. Cool. Whatever. Nadia ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, no. I’m the one that should be thanking you for, like, doing this. You didn’t have to, but, you know, thanks.” She flinched as the sounds of… something happened down below them. Dammit, Deirdre. “Yeah, you know, sometimes when you stay at the morgue, she’s up, like, really late doing some crazy DIY stuff down there. I don’t know. Maybe her sleep schedule is fucked up because of the… weather,” she finished lamely. Hopefully this wouldn’t be an all night thing because, fuck, that would be annoying. 

Regan didn’t trust that cat. She’d heard enough about her tempestuous personality and saw the evidence of it in the band-aids that sometimes lived on Nadia’s fingers. “Really, Nadia, it’s no problem. Anything to help a friend, alright?” Odd about Ms. Carmody, though. Maybe she was making an addition to the floor, or something. She made a mental note to go down and ask at some point. The two of them settled into pajamas and got comfortable (and Regan found herself in agreement with Nadia’s cat -- the couch was pleasant). After a long day of being on her feet, Exhaustion came quickly, and she didn’t hear any hint of noise from the bedroom. So far, so good, Regan thought, before all worries about her sleepwalking neighbor gave way to sleep.

It was hot, Arizona sunlight that woke Nadia up. She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes to try and get the sleep out of them before she got up. Her hand felt… sticky. She looked down, saw the blood on her fingers. Her hands shook, and she stumbled to the bathroom. Somehow, the sunlight still warmed her skin, no matter where she went in the apartment. She was too hot, too used to Maine and the cold and the lack of sunlight. Someone was already in the bathroom. Nadia couldn’t remember… she didn’t know why someone would be in the bathroom. Not with all that blood. She went in slowly, carefully. When she saw who it was, she screamed. “Regan!” There was her friend, dead on the bathroom floor. Nadia had a knife in her hand. She couldn’t… She dropped it and ran, heading for the door, heading out into the sunlight.

It was the sound of her own name that whipped Regan out of bed. She jumped up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Where did that come from? Still blinky, she looked toward Nadia’s bedroom. The door was ajar. The door was ajar. That meant -- either Nadia was taking a bathroom break, or she was making a break for it. Then she heard it: thump thump thump. At first, she thought it was more construction from Ms. Carmody’s unit, but no, it sounded… it reminded Regan of the sound of a body accidentally being dropped down a flight of stares. One of the MDIs back in Augusta did that, once. It struck her. “Nadiaholyshitgetbackhere!” Regan didn’t even have time to grab a coat or shoes; she darted out of the apartment and chased a disoriented, bruised, pajama’d, and sleeping Nadia outside of the building.

Nadia had tripped on the way out of the apartment; the fall seemed longer than it was supposed to, but she was too distraught to care because she’d killed her friend, she’d killed her friend and she didn’t remember it, and it was too hot, and everything was burning like a fucking mime cutout and where was she? There was blood on her hands. Was there blood on her hands? She was panting, and her feet hurt, and so did her ribs. Someone was calling her name, but it sounded like Regan, but that wasn’t possible because she’d killed Regan, right? Where was she? For a moment, just a moment, she woke up, and she wasn’t in Phoenix; she was in White Crest, and it was the middle of the night (or not; it was impossible to tell these days). It was cold, especially in only a tank top and plaid pajama pants. Regan (alive, wonderfully alive Regan) was running out of their apartment building. Nadia blinked at her and then, like she hadn’t even been there at all, Nadia was gone again.

Nadia stumbled outside, gait not so different from the times Regan had seen her dad fumble around the house after a few too many. She was unsteady on her feet, hands out in front of her and face not process anything. “Nadia!” She shouted, finally catching pace with her friend. She could feel the cold grass between her toes and the chilly air made her nestle into her pajama top. Wake her up quickly and get the heck back inside. Spring was here, but the weather hadn’t caught on yet in coastal Maine. For a moment, just a moment, Nadia looked at her, recognition filtering through her eyes before they became impassive again. Regan gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. “Nadia! You’re outside. Come on, we need to go back inside. You’re sleepwalking, alright?” Though Nadia didn’t seem to be rousing, Regan figured it couldn’t be so hard to steer her back inside, like walking a bicycle around. “Come on.” She repeated, turning her back toward the door.

Her name wasn’t Nadia, despite the fact that she’d gone by that name for more than six years. She slipped back into it as easily as breathing, though. Not that she’d been breathing much, recently. She was aware of being pushed back towards that fucking apartment the brat had managed to have a banishment placed on, and, no, that wouldn’t do at all. It was so much easier to take control when she caught the girl sleepwalking. She wasn’t giving up this body again, not yet. She let herself be Nadia, let herself look at Nadia’s friend (Regan? She’d been in the apartment when she’d decided to give Nadia a bit of a scare). “Hey, no, I’m awake. I’m awake.” Fuck, her body hurt. Why did her body hurt? Why wasn’t Nadia taking care of this shit? “I came outside. I, uh, fucking left something in my car. Be back up in a minute?” Were they dating? She had no fucking idea what went on in that damn apartment since that exorcist came around, and Regan (that was probably right) was kind of dull for her to get any major feelings and thoughts off of her. Huh. Nonhuman. “Yeah, I’ll be back up in a minute.”

And, just like that, Nadia jerked awake, roused. Regan tilted her head, daring to approach. In hindsight, she felt a little silly being so cautious; even a sleepwalking Nadia would never cause her harm, she had to believe that. But… it was an odd story. “You left something in your car?” Something she needed in order to sleep soundly, perhaps? Regan gave Nadia a long look, making sure she really was awake. There was something slightly different about her -- something harder in the way she stared back. But awake? Definitely. Regan nodded and sighed. “Okay. Promise you’ll be back up in five minutes?” She rubbed some more sleep from her own eyes, and it took a moment before the realization of what she’d asked sunk in. Ah, well. What was the harm? Besides, Nadia knew. Regan motioned over to the car. “I’ll help you look, if you want. What are you trying to find?”

Cocking her head to the side, Nadia gave a slow smile. “Yeah, it’s dumb, but I just felt like I had to come get it.” She needed to figure out what “it” was, and fast. Not like she could say that she needed to go find a quarter of a million dollars that she’d stashed out near Candleton. She gets that, and she wouldn’t even need to get back in the motherfucking apartment. Or she could hire someone to take the banishment off, and then she could get the rest of her stuff and run. Fuck White Crest. She should’ve gone to the Bahamas or somewhere to lay low for a bit. No more trusting contacts, no more dealing with other supernaturals. From now on, she looked out for her. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I promise.” Like fucking hell. But she’d do whatever it took to get this chick off her back. Feeling like she was winning, she smiled a bit wider. “Nah, I’m good. Shouldn’t take a minute. Just… looking for my reading glasses.” Had Nadia bought reading glasses yet? “Got a bit of insomnia. Thought I’d read for a bit to try and chill.”

Anyone else, Regan would’ve doubted, but she’d never known Nadia to lie to her. If Nadia needed to go to her car and find something, then she needed to go to her car and find something. And despite the cold nipping at her, Regan was insistent on offering her help. Though, it was odd that Nadia agreed to the promise seemingly without a second thought. “Oh! Your reading glasses.” She didn’t even know Nadia wore reading glasses. But that didn’t matter right now. Maybe reading was what got her back to sleep when she woke up in the middle of the night? Understandable. “That, uh, makes sense. And they were last seen in your car?” Did she drive with them on? If she was far-sighted, that wasn’t advisable. “Come on, let’s look around for them.” She approached Nadia’s parked car. “If they’re not in here, would they be back inside?”

Blinking as Regan walked past her to the car, Nadia realized that things weren’t going to go easily because fucking of course not. Nothing had been easy since she’d gotten exorcised. What if she just killed Regan? She could do that. But then there’d be a body and fingerprints, and she really didn’t want to deal with another murder charge right now. She could knock her out, though. That would fucking work. “Yeah, you know how it is sometimes. Reading, in the car. I'm a nerd and all that.” Jesus, she’d forgotten how to Nadia. How had she done this again? Was she timid enough? She bent down to pick up a rock. “They, uh, should be in there, yeah. Probably not in the house, I wouldn’t think.” Getting just a bit closer… “Oh, shit. I, uh, left my keys inside.” Maybe she wouldn’t need to knock Regan out. She dropped the rock, hopefully quietly. “Could you go get them,” she paused, “Regan?”

Regan walked around the perimeter of the car, peering into each window as she tried to spot a pair of reading glasses. She figured Nadia would dig around inside, check the glove compartment and all of the usual suspects. There was nothing of note to be found, at least so far as she could see, but she kept an ear out for further guidance from Nadia. “I don’t see them. Did you bring the --” Ah, so that was why she wasn’t rooting around yet. The keys were inside. She frowned. Nadia had invited her up for the express purpose of keeping an eye on her at night, and leaving to go back inside, even for a minute, was not doing that. “Not without you.” Regan said, crossing her arms. “You were worried about something happening at night, and it wouldn’t be -- I know you’re awake right now, but I don’t think leaving you out here is the best idea. We can go inside together, come back out, then you can grab your reading glasses from inside the car.” A tired sigh. “And then you need to sleep. Okay?”

Motherfucker. Nadia ran a hand through her hair. This was annoying. Regan was annoying. She was going to kill Regan. She’d have to figure out how to do it relatively quietly, but Regan seemed to trust Nadia, which meant she could get close enough and hopefully just fucking choke her until the life left her annoying eyes. God, Nadia could pick the worst, nosiest friends. Or whatever this one was. She plastered on a smile, walked a little closer. “I know, I know, you’re right.” A little closer. She calculated how she was going to do this. Nadia was an idiot for not keeping herself armed. She and Regan were about the same height. She just needed to get close enough, maneuver them into the right position, and then she could just strangle her. With anyone else, she’d just knock ‘em out and hit the road, but, damn, Regan annoyed her. And she was just the kind of person to go looking if her friend disappeared. “Nothing’s gonna happ--” She’d just gotten close enough to do something when she felt… compelled to head towards the apartment. “--en?” Why was she heading towards the apartment? She didn’t want to go towards the apartment, not with the fucking boundary around it. She didn’t want--

They were at a standstill for a moment, Regan’s eyes drifting between Nadia and the complex. Surely, if Nadia wanted those reading glasses enough, she’d cave and they could just grab the keys together. Better to be overly-cautious than not cautious at all; that was a personal mantra of Regan’s. But Nadia was stepping closer, head tilted at an odd angle, and eyes searching Regan’s face for… something. “Yes, I am right.” She said quietly, voice still tired. Why was Nadia still inching closer if they were just going into the apartment again? Before Regan could ask, Nadia just turned around and started trudging down the front walkway. “I… um, okay. Back inside, then!” At least she wasn’t going to argue further. Regan trailed behind her, and couldn’t help but notice that there was something weird about her gait again, like she wanted to be going in a different direction entirely. “Everything okay?” Maybe Nadia’s vision was worse than she’d thought.

The first thing Nadia was aware of was that she felt cold and sick. The second thing was that her head hurt; actually, her entire body hurt. Then she realized that someone was talking to her. Her head was swimming, and her eyes were watering just a bit. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on edge, and she looked around wildly, only to see… “Regan?” she asked. She looked around once more. Nothing. Just the two of them. “We’re outside in our pajamas,” she said. Christ, she felt sick. She stumbled a bit, her back hitting the apartment complex. Ow. “This… Dumb question: why are we outside?” She didn’t remember going outside. She remembered… Had she been dreaming? Everything felt weird, and awful, but mostly weird. She clenched her jaw tightly and rubbed a hand over her eyes. What the fuck just happened.

Oh no. It hit her. “Nadia, wait, I release you from that promise!” Was that why she was going inside? Why she was walking strangely and why she seemed a little disoriented? Before Regan could ask, Nadia spun around frantically and seemed… surprised that she was even there. That either of them were outside to begin with. Regan ran over to her, eager to get her cold toes out of the grass and onto the welcome mat. She put a hand on Nadia’s shoulder and winced at the clunk of her hitting the building’s facade. “You… you sleepwalked out here, and then you woke up and wanted your reading glasses, and…” A beat. Unless… “Nadia, were you sleepwalking that whole time? Did you not wake up?” Well, that was more than a little concerning. “Come on, let’s go back inside, okay?” Regan spoke softly, opening the door.

A promise? Nadia wasn’t even aware that she’d made one. “Thanks?” What the hell was going on? She blinked at Regan’s hand on her shoulder, momentarily unable to comprehend what was going on. “I… shit. Shit.” What a mess. She vaguely remembered her dream, Regan dead, Arizona, blood. She had to look at her hands again and make sure there wasn’t anything on them. No blood. A bit of dirt, though. “I don’t even have reading glasses. I mean, I, like, need them, but I don’t have any.” She didn’t remember ever talking in her sleep before. She was having full conversations? What a mess. Nadia allowed Regan to lead her back inside. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Regan.” 

The confusion on Nadia’s face quickly gave way to panic. Regan watched the change happen, and she found herself wincing again. “Hey, hey, it’s -- Nadia, it’s okay.” She ushered her back inside the complex, keeping a hand on her shoulder as they ascended the stairs. “I -- really, you don’t need to apologize. Please don’t apologize. If anyone should be apologizing…” Regan’s face fell, and she chewed on her lip. This was the opposite of what was supposed to happen. What good was her help? As they passed Regan’s apartment, she could’ve sworn she heard a hammering noise coming from within, but… no… must have been Ms. Carmody’s unit again. Sleep wouldn’t come easily again for either of them. Nadia still looked more than a little frazzled. “I’m sorry, I really thought I could help.”

Nadia flinched as they passed Regan’s apartment, knowing that Deirdre was completely unaware and happily busy banshee-proofing Regan’s apartment. Christ, she hoped Deirdre finished soon because there was no way Regan was going to want to stay another night. “God, no, you don’t need to apologize either, Regan. I wasn’t--” She took a deep breath in and let it out. “I wasn’t expecting, like, a miracle or anything. Should’ve known this would happen, really.” She ran her hand through her hair, getting it tangled in her curls. “Let’s just… go back to sleep, okay? Probs won’t happen again tonight.” No way in hell she was sleeping tonight, but she wasn’t gonna tell Regan that. As they went into the apartment, Nadia rubbed her shoulder. “Fuck. I feel like I fell down a flight of stairs or something.”

[meflemming]

[meta] When you are writing, how do you see a scene playing out in your head? Is it different camera angles like a movie? First person? Third person like a video game? Or something else entirely?

[meta] Ahhhhh this is such a good question because I love talking about the writing process, particularly how I get into scenes and characters’ heads. I’ve spent, like, a long amount of time writing screenplays, and I’ve spent a lot of time writing short stories, and I’ve now spent a lot of time writing for rp, and there’s a bit of a different approach to all of that, BUT. Before I completely nerd out on the different aspects of writing and how I get myself into the headspace of writing certain things, I will talk about THIS ASK BECAUSE IT’S NOT ASKING ABOUT ALL OF THAT.

Okay, so, for rp writing, we’ve got the two different elements, right? There’s the blogging, which is in first person, and there’s the actual paras/chatzies that are in third person. I play three very different individuals, so, when I’m blogging, I try to make sure that each of them sound different. First person is fascinating because it puts you into the head of the character. A lot of people believe, when they start writing something, that first person would be the easiest of the points of view, but third person is actually easier, typically (at least in my humble opinion). First person you’ve got to be present, and if you’re differentiate in the way that things are written or spoken, your reader is more likely to tell. If Miriam started using the word “like” in copious amounts, that wouldn’t sound like Miriam; it would sound like Nadia. So with the blogging aspect, you’ve really got to be present in the character’s head, or you end up doing them a disservice. 

For the actual writing itself, the paras and chatzies, I see them the way they’re written: third person as an event that’s already happened with that sweet, sweet past tense. I let the action unfold in my head in a variety of different ways to see what course of action would best suit the scene and suit what needs to happen for the plot, a bit like watching a movie or playing a video game where you have multiple options and you go back to see which option best fits the scenario. Sometimes I try to put myself in the character’s headspace, and I do that a lot when considering their thoughts and feelings, but, for straight action, I tend to see them in third person. It’s kind of like being aware of the positioning of their bodies before they themselves are aware of it. I know when one of them is about to stumble over a rock, and then I can go into their heads and express that surprise that they tripped over said rock. But with the third person, there’s that level of separation between me, the narrator, and them as the characters. I’m watching them and making them do things until it gets time to use their words, their thoughts. Then I pop into their heads and try to make sure that their language is accurate to the character. This is really me just giving you a very longwinded explanation as to why I use italics for Miriam in chatzies but don’t when she’s chatting online. Fun fact: Miriam still doesn’t know what button to press to make italicized words.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

New Year’s Mischief || Group Chatzy

Timing: New Year’s Eve Night Summary: Don’t trust balloons or mimes or hanyo Warnings: Sauce

The Common was alit. There was no evidence of the chaos that had befallen the Christmas market not that long ago, although a fire engine and ambulance are parked nearby. Instead, stalls were lit up in every colour imaginable, offering hot meals and hot drinks, even the occasional alcoholic drink. Sparklers and popping toys were being sold alongside glow sticks and neon jewellery. There was even a stall run by mimes which charged you three dollars to stick your hand into a strange box which may contain prizes. This was particularly popular. Further on, there were a couple men in plain brown suits at a stall with mysterious stains on it. The men were making the most incredible balloon sculptures, more detailed than any balloon sculpture had any right to be. Beside them was a sign that read “WARNING: DO NOT POP BALLOONS”. Aunt Jolene, however, who ran the brownie stall, claimed she’d popped hers and found a check for a thousand dollars in hers. It was a beautiful, lively evening, ready to ring in the new year, as if the black ocean, eye sun, sandman and all else could be left in this one. 

 Nora insisted that her and Remmy had to be the first at the Mime event. Remmy may have told Nora that it wasn't a complete mime event, but Nora wasn't hearing any of it. If anyone was going to watch the silent ball drop, it was going to be Nora. As they approached the commons, Nora was craning her neck wondering if Marie-Jeanne was going to grace them with her presence. Nora was a big fan of her. 

 Dakota had heard about what was happening at The Common through a few people at work—excited chatter between coworkers grabbing a cup of stale coffee before returning to their desks, or their offices, or their labs. Originally, she hadn’t been planning on showing up because New Year’s Eve happened to be the busiest night of year for most people at the precinct. For Dakota, the disasters usually followed a few days after, because that’s when you found the bodies. But tonight she was feeling more adventurous than she’d had in weeks—mainly due to the fact that she was bored, but she had also never been to The Common, why not check it out? So, she showed up. There was a bit of commotion concerning someone popping a balloon and finding money, but she decided to spend a bit of cash and grab a cup of hot chocolate and watch the events unfold, much like a wallflower would do. 

 Ally debated the whole day as to whether to or not she would be in attendance at the ball drop. She could’ve sat in the office all night, waiting for the calls that would inevitably come in the closer that they got to midnight, or she could get dressed up and be on call at the party. Every time she decided she wasn’t going and took off her dress she remembered what Christmas alone felt like, and she sure as hell didn’t want that again. So eventually she got herself into her car and drove to The Common. Best case scenario, she made a new friend, worst case scenario she wasted a few hours. When she arrived she walked around, looking at all the activities and nervously staying far away from the mimes, especially after what Regan had told her.

 After the kitchen incident with Nadia, Arthur really hadn't been planning to leave the house. But it was New Year's Eve, and whenever the mimes were out in force he couldn't entirely control the morbid curiosity to witness them. The issue he had presently was trying to get his wallet out to pay for a hot chocolate with one arm presently held in a sling and cast. "Ah shoot" he muttered as he dropped the wallet on the floor crouching down to grab it and glancing over to a lady who was also stood nearby. "Sorry- Could- Would you mind helping me?"

 Being first to the ball drop hadn’t been important to Remmy, but it was to Nora, and so they’d donned their nicest clothes that weren’t packed, and had headed out before the sun was even beginning to set with Nora. They noticed her looking around for someone and raised a brow. “Who are you looking for?” they asked, casting a glance around as well, seeing if they could spot anyone they recognized as well. Wondered if Luce might show, wondered if they’d want to see her, even. They rubbed the back of their head as they walked along. “What do you wanna do first? Looks like there’s some sort of carnival game stuff. Wanna check that out?

 This was the last place Kaden wanted to be. Ringing in the New Years surrounded by goddamn mimes. He was going to be at home with his dog and some wine and cheese. It was going to be simple. But no. Nor was going to steal a fucking ball from the ball drop. And he had a feeling he had to be there to either stop her or help her. He wasn’t sure which right now. Either way, he had a flask on hand. He didn’t know what he needed but he knew he needed that. When he saw Nora he waved. She could call the shots. And she was hanging out with that other hunter, Remmy. Interesting. “Hey,” he said with a nod.

 "Marie-Jeanne." Nora answered without explanation. Nora cracked her neck. It hurt after so much craning. "I gotta go steal the ball before it drops. Will you be good?" Nora asked. Nora wasn't sure Remmy would want to help. Nora had met them whilst they were working security and the conversation about thieving public displays of new year bringing. Just then Kaden showed up. "Good." Nora gave him an approving nod. She thought he'd be too chicken to show up. "Step one. Don't get seen by any mimes. Step two. Steal the ball. Got it?"

 Never having been very good at dealing with the unknown, the moment Solomon learned that they were warned to not pop the balloons, the ache to rip them all to bits was almost overwhelming. He was perched on a bench, his attention flicking between that stall and the one with the mimes and mystery box, trying to decide which one would be more satisfying to wreck. The fact that he was surrounded by people, something that would normally make him extremely antsy, was completely overshadowed by the need to reveal whatever those men in the suits were hiding. In what he thought was a sly manner (but probably wasn’t), Solomon sidled his way toward the balloon stand, still eyeballing the creations as they were whipped together at record speed and handed off to their buyers. As one of them passed hands from the artist to the commissioner, Solomon made a quick gesture with one hand, sending a couple thorns hurtling from his fingertips and bursting the thing right in the woman’s face. The delighted laugh was barely muffled as he relished the loud sound (which had been unexpected) and sudden burst of glittery bits of... whatever it was that exploded in her face. Which of course drew attention to him, so he quickly turned tail and slipped off to find more people with those balloons.

 “Steal the...ball?” Remmy asked, blinking. They looked around again, when a familiar voice piped in. It was Kaden, the guy from the cooking class that Remmy was pretty sure was another zombie. They wondered if Morgan knew him, hadn’t she mentioned him once? They smiled, waving back. “Hey-- oh,” glanced over at Nora again. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be good. Just try not to get into too much tro--” they paused, snapped their jaw shut, “never mind. Just don’t get yourself hurt, okay?” they said, sighing and shaking their head. But they were smiling. 

 Connor wasn't sure how long he was going to stay, mostly for the sake of his new companion, Nico. So far she'd seemed to be a well-adjusted and friendly dog, but he didn't want to put her in a situation that would be overwhelming, so was more than ready to head home early and have a quiet night instead. “Come on, girl,” he said, scratching behind her ear as they walked. So far, so good. He headed over to the common, looking around for someone he might recognize. 

 The celebration of the coming year was a strange, but pleasant thing. Kevin couldn’t quite recall the last year she had seen come and go. Glamor in place, she wandered about, making her way over to the stand with the mystery box. Such an enchanting idea… even if the people running it were clearly abominations. She was never one to leave much to chance, but there was a certain appeal to the surprise. Still, this was for the people of White Crest to enjoy, she was content to simply observe… at least for the moment. 

 “This is Hell. I’m dead - for real this time - and I’ve gone to Hell.” Mercy had a very deep hatred for mimes. Not humans playing at being mimes, but Mimes. Of the White Crest variety. The kind that had shot her and tried - see: very nearly succeeded - in murdering Arthur. Not to mention a slew of others. So while she waited on Arthur to come back from the hot chocolate line - Mercy had opted for beer, which she sipped thoughtfully from her perch on the back of one of the Common’s benches - she took in her surroundings, noting all the strangeness (both normal and suspicious in nature) and thinking that maybe the four knives and her pistol (for which she was properly permitted thanks much) that she currently had hidden on her person might not be enough if shit went sour. Which there was a fifty-fifty chance of. The sharp pop of a balloon caught her attention, and her gaze cut across the crowd, locking on an unfamiliar face that was quickly exiting the scene. “I’d be careful popping those,” Mercy said, hopping off her bench as the stranger passed by. “Some of them might not be so… sparkly.” 

 Savannah would have happily been at home with a bottle of wine, but she was trying, perhaps in vain, to be a little more social. Every time she went out into the world, something unexpected seemed to happen, and not all of them were welcomed. Still, anything this event and its mimes could offer had to be better than ringing in the New Year alone, right? She spotted a few people she knew, but opted to quietly observe for a while. 

 Kaden sighed deeply before bringing the flask to his lips and taking a swig. He held it out in case Nora or Remmy wanted any, too. “Lead the way.” This was a mistake. “You want to help? I feel like this is a terrible idea and could probably use more hands,” he asked Remmy. 

 If only Marley could’ve used the excuse of working the party to come, but as it were, she wasn’t allowed in the field anyway, but she sure as hell wanted to show up to what would likely be a disastrous event. If only for the free food. People around here either loved mimes or hated them, and with hate often came fear. Donning her glasses, she strolled into the Common with hands tucked in pockets, glancing around to see who else was going to show up to this place. Kept to the fringes of the crowd for now, spotting Kaden with two others, including that nuisance bugbear who kept bothering all the cops at the precinct. Solano was on the other side, idling around as awkwardly as Marley, as if trying to blend in, and over at one of the drink stations was Dakota. Marley made a mental note to stay far away from there for now. Maybe after a few shots of tequila she’d gather up enough courage to go over to her. 

 Remmy looked at the flask Kaden was holding out to them, then up to his face as he asked if they wanted to help. “Oh, uh-- n-no, that’s okay. I’ll just...I mean i guess I could keep an eye out to make sure ya’ll are good, but I’d rather not.” 

 All at once, there was a screech of violins. The college band fell silent as the mime band began to play real music, despite the apparent lack of real instruments. Even more unnervingly, the mime lead singer's lips did not move, but they sang with the exact vocal cords of the college band singer, who was clutching at his throat in distress.

 Dakota hadn’t really been paying much attention to the guy with his arm in a sling—at least not until he dropped the damned thing and she was the closest person who could help in the least bit. “Shit, yeah,” she said. Dakota did sort of feel bad for him, crouching down like that, so she kneeled and grabbed his wallet, handing it back to him. “The hell happened to you arm?”

 Nora took a large swig of the flask then grabbed Kaden by the arm to pull him behind a stall. Reaching into her coat she pulled out two berets and some face paint. "We need to get in disguise. Paint up." Nora started applying copious amounts of white face paint onto her already pale face. In retrospect, she should have brought a hand mirror. Oh well, much like this year, hindsight was 2020.

 Slowing his roll as he heard someone speaking to him, Solomon whipped around to look at the woman, offering his best innocent shrug. “I don’t know what you meeeaan!” he lied, snickering all the while. “What else could they possibly stuff in there, bees?” There was a pause, and he raised his eyebrows. “Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. Bad for the bees, though. I gotta free them!” He sucked in an unusually energetic breath, ready to take off again in pursuit of another target, but rattled to a stop before he’d even gotten started. “... Aren!” He waved both arms when he spotted his friend just a short distance off, beckoning him over. “Aren, come help me rescue some bees!”

 Connor spotted the person with who had the giant fluffy dog that he'd seen at Nell's party, although no dog in tow this time. "Hey," he greeted. "Nice to see you again." The strange noise brought his attention over to the stage and he cocked his head curiously. "Oh. That's... normal."

 Ally heard the screech of violins and spun around to look at the band. When she heard the sound coming from the mime band she scrunched her eyebrows trying to comprehend how sound was coming from the mimes. The stall nearest to her was selling drinks, and although alcohol certainly wasn’t going to explain what she just saw, she suddenly felt like she needed a drink. She downed it and leaned toward the person nearest to her, “Is this like a performance piece or something?” She whispered. 

 Savannah spotted Marley, but she didn't want to approach her given the last encounter they'd had. Probably better to talk in a one on one environment. She saw Kaden, and a couple of people from the station, one of whom she thought she remembered was called Alejandra. "A performance piece... that's one way of putting it," Savannah said, grateful she'd already grabbed a drink. "You're new here, right?" 

 As the woman handed back his wallet Arthur smiled awkwardly as he stood up, "thanks, sorry- I'm not normally this much of a clutz."  He took the wallet back, awkwardly trying to fish a couple of dollar bills out to pay the disgruntled looking hot chocolatier. "Oh this? I was involved in an accident-" not the total truth, but near enough all things considered. Taking the bills he finally handed them over. “Sorry again- thanks.” Catching a figure waving in his periphery Arthur grinned and waved back "Hey Sol- Bees? What bees?"

 Mercy tipped an eyebrow, unable to help her own amusement. “Bees would… be preferable actually,” she said. Before she could say anything else, he was going on about freeing said bees and Mercy was… thinking her night was getting just a little bit better. This could only end in glorious chaos. But it took a slightly unexpected turn when the stranger called to someone in the crowd… and used a name had never heard anyone else use. Not in a very, very long time. “You know, Arth- Aren?” Mercy said, grabbing one of the excited stranger’s flailing limbs. “There aren’t bees…” she told him. “No bees,” she said to Arthur as he approached. Mercy took a long sip of her beer. “Not yet at least.” 

 Was he drunk or did Nora just pull out fucking berets and facepaint? “No. I’m not doing that. You can’t make me. I’ll just put up my hood or something.” Kaden tugged it up and hoped that was enough. After being striped for about a week, there was no way in fucking hell he was putting on any more goddamn facepaint. “This way,” he said quietly as he led the past a few crowds of people and around some tables and decorations. They reached a group of “performers.” He sure as shit wasn’t going to work to blend in. He made a gesture that he’d just go around, but it was too late. One of the mimes grabbed his arm and then made a gesture, pulling their finger across their throat. Uhhh. He looked to Nora for help. 

 Ally nodded in agreement with what the woman next to her said. When she asked if she was new she turned toward her. “Right, yeah, I’ve seen you around the station. I’m Ally.” She said sticking her hand out. “Do they do this every year?”

 "Savannah," she introduced herself. "Yeah, I consult on cases there sometimes. I'm FBI." Apparently the White Crest Police Department was just a bunch of attractive women and one weird Sergeant. "I wouldn't know, this is my first time here. I only came to town a little over six months ago. Still long enough to no longer be surprised by these things." 

 “The bees in the balloons!” Solomon bleated over Mercy’s attempts to stifle him, though the wind did seem to get sucked out of his sails after another brief moment of consideration. “Fine… but I still want to see what’s in them. “Yeah, yeah, we met, uh… a long time ago. Y’know.” He gave her a shrug, beaming at Arthur as he approached. “I’m breaking stuff, d’you want to help?” He glanced at Mercy, giving her a quick once over. Any friend of Aren’s was a friend of his. “You too!”

 It was the fatal error of refusing to put makeup on that caused Kaden to get grabbed and noticed by the mimes. As the mimes made a slit throat gesture to Kaden, Nora, now a true mime, made the gesture of a tear rolling down her face. Deciding she'd better do her best to help her tall friend Nora decided to speak up for Kaden. The mime sequence was intended to say "I was chasing him, and he got away, then you caught him, and now I'll kick him out." In Nora's mind, she was convinced it looked brilliant. Truly she was a mime natural but to a person who could actually perceive Nora's actions, Nora looked like a flopping dead fish. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Nora summoned an illusioned mime bear to scare the mime and pull Kaden away in that moment of shock. Nora grabbed Kaden's arm and made a run for it. 

 Wandering over to his old friend Arthur's brow pinched in confusion as he looked over the crowd and realised what Solomon was referencing. Balloons. Oh right. "You're breaking stuff? That tracks..." his smile grew a tad devious as he glanced at Mercy and back to Solomon. "Do you need help with that?" As if to emphasise the point he glanced at the nearby balloon stand where a black balloon was in the process of being placed in the extended hands of a middle-aged woman. It didn't take too much focus to warm the air around it just enough to make it explode, sliming the recipient's hands in lumpy hanyo.

 “Nice to meet you. Do all towns have a dedicated FBI agent or is it just this one on account of the…” Ally motioned to the mimes bizarre behavior. “Alright so six months until this is normal. Great. Another drink?” She suggested. She had moved across an ocean for a new start, and the new start was fucking weird. She heard a balloon pop and glanced over, watching what looked like mayonnaise cover a woman’s hands. “That’s going on the ‘not illegal but it should be’ list.”

 What a curious thing, how the music changed, seemingly stolen away from the poor child trying his best. Best not to interfere. Kevin instead busied herself, walking over to the delightful bunch of balloons. Her eyes widened as one of them suddenly popped, a delighted smile curling onto her face as she drew near the strangers at the stand. “Ah, I thought the sign said not to pop them. How strange. Do they all have that… substance inside them, do you think?”

Jared was only there to support one of the mimes in the band. He was a regular at the restaurant in town and the nymph always tried his best to mime back with enthusiasm when he was ordering. It seemed to have won him some favour when he was slipped a flier for the event in the commons, the mime silently letting him know that they were to be there. And so there he was, miming clapping along to the supposed beat of the silent band, only to swap to real clapping when the band burst into sound. 

Savannah snickered. White Crest's dedicated FBI Agent. That was a funny way of looking at things. She certainly felt like that, at times. Although she was beginning to get the feeling it wouldn't last much longer. "I came for one specific case, and found several more. Missing people, cults, a ridiculously large death toll for a town this side. What could be better?" she said, playfully sarcastic. "I like the accent," Savannah said. "England, right?" 

“No, I didn’t.” Mercy didn’t seem to know a lot of things these days. Not that she expected to know everything about Arthur’s life here in town. But if this guy knew him as Aren… then he was old like they were. He had to be. Mercy thought at least something like that would be worth her knowing. Her mind drifted off to places she didn’t want it to be, places that held nothing but self-doubt and bitterness, but her new acquaintances excitement pulled her out of it. “Oh, you don’t want my help…” she huffed, glancing between Arthur and his mysterious friend as she finished off her drink. “Unless you like fire. Lots of fire.” Another balloon popped, this time at Arthur’s bidding, and Mercy shook her head. “And people say I’m a bad influence…” Though the air around her hummed slightly, sounding ironically… like bees. 

 Kaden wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen. Or what Nora was trying to convey in what he assumed was mime gestures. It looked like a lot of flopping around. From the looks of it, the mimes weren’t convinced. Putain de merde, this was how they died. Or became striped again. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Before any of them could reveal extra teeth or stripes under stripes, a mime bear appeared and chased the mimes. Kaden was prepared to high tail it and run the opposite direction, but the actual bugbear pulled him away. He wasn’t sure where the fuck they were running, but he kept going. Straight into Marie-Jeanne. Putain de fucking merde. 

 Kevin let her attention wander, humming along to the music. It was a pleasant sound, but it was being stolen. So very rude. Well, two could play at that game. A twist of her fingers was all she needed. As the mime band continued on, their music seemed to spread. It spilled out of the mystery box and echoed from the balloons, sounding almost as if it was trapped inside. As the melody went on, it grew stranger, louder, almost as though it were at odds with itself. Impossible instruments joined in, a few discordant voices joining into the mix. Now this was what a party was supposed to sound like. 

 Looking absolutely thrilled as Arthur joined in on the balloon-bursting fun, Solomon tut-tutted at Mercy. “Come on, it’s not often you get to cause a little mischief and not worry about repercussions. Also no, not the biggest fan of fire, but… a little seems to work just fine,” he added with a grin. Extending his hand to the woman, he figured a proper introduction was in order. “I’m Solomon, by the way. Aren and I met back in the… gods, what was it?” He glanced to Arthur, cocking his head to the side. “1700?” Then he noticed the sound around them was changing, and made a face. “The hell is that?”

 Ally sipped on the next drink she was handed, feeling a little more comfortable. “Cults?” She said, perking up. In London there had been a cult that she had suspected was actually just a clan of vampires. “I’ll have to look into that. At least it’s not boring.” She said simply, glancing back down at her drink. “Yes, yes I’m from London. And you?”

 Marie-Jeanne grinned at Nora and Kaden, swivelling her hips salaciously. Unfortunately, she saw what they were going to do and that was ever so unacceptable. She peeled one of the stripes off her body to reveal more stripes underneath. She'd gotten ever so many more stripes since the last time they'd met. With the stripe of questionable material, she tried to tie the pair of them up. 

 Witnessing all these people seeming to run a muck made Dakota truly wonder why she had moved to White Crest in the first place. Sipping her hot chocolate, she did happen to see Marley, and she promptly choked on her drink and made a bee-line in the other direction, stumbling in to someone else’s conversation. Oh, wait… She’d seen this person before. FBI agent, right? “Uh, sorry, I heard there was commotion about bees.” She looked between the FBI agent and the other person she was speaking with, whom she had not the faintest idea of a name. “Sorry to interrupt. Are you guys talking about London?” Please be a normal conversation…

 "Yeah, my colleague who worked here before he passed away was an expert in cults," Savannah said, as plainly as she might when talking about the weather. "I'm from Massachusetts," she said. "I was working at the Field Office in Boston for a few years prior to moving here. I'm sure the place will leave an impression..." She turned to the newest person who'd entered the conversation, someone from the crime lab. "Yeah," she said. "You been there?" She wrinkled her face in confusion. “Bees?”

 “London? No, no. I do know there’s like, a big clock. And a ferris wheel. And I’m not sure what I heard, but there was definitely someone shouting about bees…” Yeah, Dakota, that’s why you tried to make yourself look busy. “Have you?”

 "Big Ben and the London Eye," Savannah said, nodding. "Yeah, I went to a few places around the UK on my Honeymoon," she answered, but was quick to lift her drink to draw attention to her empty ring finger. 

 Nell had come to this event for one reason, and one reason only. To ruin as much of it as she could. The mimes thought they ruled this town, holding it under the tip of their striped thumbs, but in her mind they could stand to be brought down a few pegs or more. As she finally arrived, her eyes narrowed, nose scrunching at the cursed sound the band was emitting. Without a second thought she murmured a spell under her breath, snickering as the strings of the mime band’s violins snapped to slash back across the musicians faces in a light slap. Already in a much better mood, she made her way through the crowd looking for more opportunities to soil the mimes. 

 Ally made a mental note to ask Savannah about her colleague, interrupted by a new person in the conversation. “I mean, bees aren’t usually out in the winter. Have you seen any?” she asked, looking around. “Oh, well, I’m from there.” Ally explained. She looked at Savannah’s empty ring finger and nodded. “Ah, sorry.” she said awkwardly, unsure what to say. 

 “Oh, it’s fine,” Savannah answered. “It just means I’m single.”

 Remmy was instantly relieved when they spotted Nell across the way, and started making their way to her. Picked up a drink on the way and watched out of the corner of their eye as Kade and Nora went off to do their mime shenanigans. The screeching of the new violins were lost on Remmy’s ears, and they smiled brightly as they found their way over to Nell, waving. “Hey! Nell!” they called out, “I didn’t think you were gonna come. I thought you hated mimes?”

 Connor was grateful that someone else he knew had shown up; someone in a similar age range. It was weird when everyone around him was in their thirties or forties. "Nell!" He called, unaware of what she had just done to upset the mimes, waving her over. "Come meet Nico!" The Golden Retriever seemed all too happy to make a new friend.

 "Oh! You haven't met? Mercy this is Solomon. Solomon this is Mercy now you know one another." Arthur would've clapped, except, he couldn't so he grinned instead looking between his compatriots tonight. "Oh come on," he nudged Mercy "let's be the chaos crew." Another balloon nearby popped and a plastic necklace dropped into the hands of a pleased looking little girl.

 Dakota furrowed her brow, not exactly sure what had happened with Savannah and her ex. “Damn, was the honeymoon that bad?” she joked, then drew her attention to Ally. “Sorry, I totally butted in. I’m Dakota. And I heard London is nice. Except for when you’re having bad honeymoons, apparently.”

He heard a familiar laugh and turned to spot Remmy and Nell across the way. Jared gave a small smile to his mime pal in the band, giving them a thumbs up before heading over. Overhearing Remmy’s words he frowned, however. “Hate mimes? Why?”

Savannah rolled her eyes with a snicker. "No, the honeymoon was great. The marriage was just average," she said, shrugging. "No huge angst, no broken hearts. Just better off as acquaintances these days." 

Nora was ready to book it over to the ball to steal it when the most beautiful person Nora had ever seen stepped in front of them. Of course, Nora had seen this person before but that didn't make her appearance any less breathtaking. Nora skidded to a stop, not willing to brush past Marie-Jeanne. It was with rapt attention Nora watched as Marie-Jeanne took off one of her many stripes. It was with no quarrel that Noar let Marie-Jeanne wrap her in the stripe. It was with a weird sense of belonging that she thanks Marie-Jeanne for tying her up. "Thanks." Nora let out. Of course, that came with complete forgetfulness of having been pretending to be a mime. Nora looked expectantly to Kaden, expecting him to get tied up as well. 

 “Oh, you fucking bet I hate mimes. That’s why I came to destroy everything they love,” Nell quickly replied to Remmy, her voice bright despite the doom promised in her words. “Why are you here?” There was, without a doubt, one thing that could momentarily turn her head from her current mime mission in life, and that was one singular golden dog that was approaching with Connor. “Nico?” Nell asked excitedly, already bending to pet the pup. “Since when do you have a dog?” Then she turned to Jared, confusion and judgement plain on her features. “Jared- you know I literally despise mimes.”

 After several drinks, Marley finally felt confident enough to join the group without either accidentally feeding off someone or saying something stupid or rude. She made her way over to the group of people she recognized all together-- Savannah, Ally, Dakota. Only two out of three of them would be awkward to talk to, so that was a win. In most situations, they all would be. Grabbing another spiced eggnog, Marley headed over, pausing just short when the violins began screeching, turning to glance back over at them. Disaster one, she supposed. Opting to ignore it, she leaned against the table. “If we’re all here, who’s working the lines?”

 “A partner is usually more trouble than they’re worth, I’ve found. Except it would certainly lower my rent.” Ally offered. “Maybe one of those are looking for a roommate.” she joked, watching the mimes lose control of their violins. Another sip of her drink. “I’m Ally, nice to meet you.” she smiled. She was heading toward best case scenario territory. Even with the mimes and maybe bees. When Marley approached Ally smiled, glad to see someone she recognized. “I’m on call.” She said, tapping her earpiece. “I’ll have to arrest someone in a dress tonight, I’m sure of it.”

 Remmy felt a tad overwhelmed as the boy from Nell’s birthday party that had wanted to pet Moose came up to them as well as Jared. Nell confirmed her hated for mimes and Remmy shrugged. “I came with Nora, she was really excited to be here. I think she’s trying to con that guy Kaden into stealing the ball for the ball drop with her,” they said, looking at the other two. “You brought your dog? Are they okay with fireworks? I heard there might be some later.”

 "They are kind of weird, aren't they?" Connor said about the mimes. There was something even more unsettling about the White Crest version of mimes than the usual ones. "I adopted her right before Christmas.” He looked to Remmy. “I'm gonna leave if she gets antsy about the crowds and fireworks, and probably head away before they go off, so I can see how she is at a distance, but she's a gundog, so she might be alright." 

 Savannah shrugged, unaware of the situation with Marley and Dakota, and also not really caring. She was just happy Marley wasn't avoiding her. "I dunno, Keene, maybe?" 

 Ah so there was another witch about. How sweet. Kevin found the woman quickly, feeling the magic in the air trailing from the broken instrument to the caster in question. It was a decent spell, clever and rounded at the edges. Still, her own had already reached the music, and Kevin wasn’t particularly interested in letting others cross paths with hers. Her hand turned, hidden in her glamor. The music grew louder, horns and bells chiming in, whispers of voices in a dozen unknowable tongues joining in. All of it centered around that sweet, young caster. The musical notes began to take shape around her, turning into birds, into bubbles that popped with a scream, and all the while, the volume continued to grow.

Jared spared a bright smile for Remmy and the stranger before mumbling a soft “I hoped you’d grown out of hating mimes… We haven’t really spoken about them all that much since you got back…” He glanced back at his mime friend in the band hoping they weren’t hearing this; he’d hate to offend such a new friend like this. “They’re just trying to get along like everyone else.” 

The mention of the word partner made Marley’s skin vibrate and she nodded perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than she should’ve. “Agreed. People aren’t worth the trouble,” before shooting back another chug. “Oh, right. Agatha.” She should’ve known that, Agatha had practically tripped over herself to volunteer tonight. She was a real teacher’s pet, but for whatever reason, Marley only found the trait endearing, whereas usually she hated it. She watched Dakota back away and head off, wondering if it was because of her, frowning. She glanced at Savannah, only for a moment, before turning her eyes away. “What do you think of the band? Kinda eerie, huh?”

 “You’d be surprised,” Mercy said to Solomon, eyeing the stranger with even more curiosity. “Though it has been awhile I suppose.” Besides, Mercy’s brand of mischief might utterly ruin the mimes’ night. How could she resist? Especially as Arthur so eagerly introduced her and the stranger. “It’s an honor to meet you, Solomon,” she said, shaking hands. “But you can call me Freyja if you like. I’ve known Aren… well, forever really.” And that was the truth. Idly she wondered if she and Solomon had perhaps met in passing when she’d been in Maine herself in the early 1700s. Or if the man had known Arthur’s family. His children. But the dour thoughts passed easily as she was jostled by Arthur. She sighed in a pseudo-put upon fashion, smiling faintly as the little girl showed her necklace to her father. “You really want me to do this?” she asked, looking first at Arthur then at Solomon, who seemed a bit worried all of a sudden. 

 “Kind of weird is an understatement,” Nell replied dryly, glaring at a passing mime as if she were daring it to say, or sign something. “Steal the ball?” she asked with renewed curiosity. Surely that would be a good way to throw a wrench in the mimes’ celebration. Unfortunately Jared’s words were lost as the music swelled around her, and her skin prickled as another magic blossomed. Apparently someone wasn’t all too thrilled with her antics around the band. “I can’t hear you!” she yelled over the music towards her friends, but that didn’t matter now. If someone was upset she was messing with the band, deafening her was the wrong way to make her stop. Instead it fueled her hatred of the mimes even further, and in another moment she let her magic fly again, targeting the mime band with renewed vigor as she flipped the chairs of the first row, sending mimes tumbling.

 It was her. The mime who had given him the lapdance on his birthday. The one with too many teeth and stripes under her stripes. He tried to get away, make a run for it, but she had peeled off her stripes and was tying him up. Shit. Shit fucking shit. Of course Nora was thrilled. Kaden tried to pull his hands away, but she had a vice grip on his wrist and wasn’t letting up. Even with hunter strength it was hard to pull away. He heard strange sounds coming from the center of the Common from the band, seemingly. Like someone threw something at the musicians. “Hey, uh, this was, this is great but I gotta go.”

 Remmy glanced between Nell and Jared, wondering what was going on between them that someone would think Nell liked mimes. Anyone who knew Nell knew she hated them. It was strange to think she ever did or ever would like them. But then she was shouting and Remmy was glancing around anxiously. “Nell, are you okay?” they asked, reaching out for her, but she was already doing something else, and Remmy watched as the front row of the mime band was upturned. They winced. “Nell, was that--”

 "Kaden's here, too," Savannah said. She knew she'd spotted him talking to a goth-looking person earlier. Speaking of the band, Savannah's head turned as the front row of the orchestra seemed to all be thrown off their chairs. "The band are... interesting, but... Oh. Well, I don't think that's part of the show." 

 Quickly forgetting the bizarre sound he’d heard in favor of getting up to no good, Solomon nodded enthusiastically. This wasn’t normally his brand of activity, but something about running into such an old friend had rekindled a spark in him that had been snuffed out long ago. “Well then, Freyja, yes! We do!” He scanned the crowd for another unsuspecting guest, spotting a balloon gripped in the hands of a young boy, and grinned. “It’s easy… like this!” Letting loose another small volley of thorns, Solomon’s delight quickly turned to confusion as the balloon burst and out fell… dust? What was that? “Huh,” he grunted, a little disappointed. But then the dust was on the move, balling up in clumps as it rolled along the ground, with alarming… intelligence. “Uh oh.”

 There was a horrific clatter of musical instruments (including the ting of a strangely loud triangle). The mimes stopped all at once, helping their brethren to their feet. In unison, they turned to face Nell in particular, and frowned as one in perfect synchronisation, drawing a sad face onto theirs. There was a ripple of perfect silence across the crowd before the music started up again. Unbeknownst to Nell, changes were beginning to happen at the Vural household. Then they sat down, picked up new mime instruments and began to play once more. 

 “Single cops who spend all their time at the precinct. Aren’t we stereotypes.” Ally noticed Marley frown when Dakota disappeared and wondered if there was a story there. “Very eerie here. How do you think they’re doing it? Hidden speakers.” She said, leaning over to see if she could spot them. She noticed them get thrown off their chair. “What is happening?” she said, wondering if they should do something.

Jared whipped around to see the chairs fly and his smile vanished. “Nell what the hell! Stop that, what have they done? They haven’t done anything, stop that.” He glared at her and stomped over to help pick up the chairs. He missed the eerie stop of the music completely in his anger.

As the mimes looked to Nell in unison, she raised a single finger. A very carefully chosen finger. The most offensive finger a person could raise as she collectively flipped them the bird.

 Remmy, noticing the mimes all staring at Nell, backed away slowly, taking Connor and his dog with them. “We should...go.”

 Connor didn't need to be a genius (he definitely wasn't one) to figure out that Nell was the one messing with the band. He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as she gave them the finger. "Careful. I've heard they can be pretty dangerous." He nodded to Remmy. “Yeah, good idea,” he teased. “You’re on your own, Penelope.” Miriam had made him promise, after all, not to let the dog get into any dangerous situations.

 Nell’s finger began to develop stripes.

 Wincing, Marley took another long sip of her eggnog, watching the turmoil begin to crescendo-- pun intended. All the mimes were focusing on one single person, and Marley noticed it was the little jailbird, Nell. Chuckling, Marley relaxed little, excited to see how this might play out. She glanced over at Ally and Savannah. “Well, here’s to being single and dedicating our lives to shit like this, yeah?” she raised her glass to them both, not bothering to answer the unasked question of whether they should intervene. She wasn’t on duty, she had no obligation to act, just like with the Dullahan. Instead, she’d enjoy the show, and the free meal. She deserved it.

 Oblivious to the ensuing chaos by the bandstand, Arthur watched the strange clumps of dust rolling across the floor mildly entranced by the dust bunnies. "Huuuh, weird." As if on cue another couple of balloons popped, but this time instead of their owners suffering the repercussions he heard a pop too close for comfort and felt the wet slide of something down his face; which was now covered in a stream of white mayo. "Ewwwww- I hate mayonnaise Disgusting."

 Nell couldn’t deny that her first thought upon seeing her finger develop stripes was ‘chop it off.’ Thankfully, she did no such thing and made the very wise decision to raise her other middle finger, brandishing it as she stuck out her tongue to the mime band. “I have two, bitch!”

 Her other finger began to develop stripes. So did her tongue.

 Sam Rainsbottom grinned for a camera as he posed in front of the New Years party panorama. “Hello everyone! This is WC Student Broadcasting coming to you from the Coooomon!” Sam’s blue eyes flicked up to where the Yearbook students manning the camera switched to a new cue card. “We’d like to officially thank the Striped Club, The Quiet Place, and Your Mime and Ours, and whole Silent Thespian community for sponsoring this civic event!”

 Sam looked back at chaos of stands being tipped over “shit shit” he side shuffled and made motions with his hands for the camera to pan away to some non-destruction scenes of this New Years party.

 Marie-Jeanne giggled silently, tapping Nora's nose that developed some stripes of their own. She did not do the same to Kaden, holding him tightly as she pulled a balloon out of her pocket. Don't ask how she has pockets. Don't ask how a large balloon fit in the pocket. All Kaden and Nora needed to worry about was that the balloon was slowly expanding, getting ready to pop.

 Mercy glanced over at the ruckus from near the ‘mime band’, but since it was actual sound being made, she didn’t pay much attention. She turned back to watch Solomon send a volley of… was it thorns??... through the air and pop another balloon. “Good shot,” Mercy grinned, squinting at the balls of dust that rolled away. “Oh… it’s just some dust bunnies. Nothing to worry about.” The air hummed with chaotic energy, the brisk chill of the evening and the sounds of the crowd - barring whatever was happening with the ‘band’ - along with the contagiousness of her companions’ mischief was quickly taking over any good sense she might’ve shown. The balloon that popped nearby only got a passing glance from the Fury, though she did grimace a little at substance that coated Arthur’s face. “Are you sure it’s mayo?” she asked, scooping a bit onto her finger to taste. “Yeah… yuck. Definitely mayo. With undertones of birb.” But… with no harm done from yet another balloon, Mercy finally handed Arthur her drink. “Those were both great shots, boys…” she said of their individual balloon-popping. “Now it’s my turn…” With that, she turned and walked off into the crowd. A brush of a hand here… a tap of a finger there… and when she returned a minute or so later, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright with mischief and the effects of her power. Mercy glanced at her watch. “You wanted chaos…” It read about a minute or so til somewhere nearby a bell would toll. “You’ll get chaos…” 

 Nora giggled. Nora actually fully giggled as Marie-Jeanne tapped her nose. She might have actually giggled more if she'd known that her nose was now striped. It was like mime themed freckles. Her eyes followed the balloon, looking up at it. The roundness of the balloon reminded Nora that she was on a mission. "I'm sorry. I have something I need to do." Nora rolled to her side and started rolling towards the giant ball. Not very fast, to be fair. Definitely not fast enough to get away from the balloon. The balloon popped above her in a shower of rainbows. It was a beautiful effect. It was less beautiful as Nora noticed that her outfit went from the signature black to colorful rainbow. 

 Looking a little grossed out when the new substance appeared on Arthur’s face, Solomon only looked more aghast when Mercy tasted it. “That… could have been one hundred percent bird poop! You’re brave,” he laughed. Happy to see that she’d finally decided to join in, the leshy watched curious as she walked away, nudging Arthur gently in the side. “Cool friend you got there, Aren. She seems like fun!” His eyebrows raised again as she came back into view, and that struggle with the unknown took hold once again. “What did you do?” he gasped excitedly, eyes widening. 

 Tired of being unable to hear the voices of those surrounding her, and currently angered by the mimes audacity at stripe-ing her, Nell cast another bit of magic to disrupt whatever spell it was the other caster in the crowd had thrown at her. The music returned to its normal, albeit still disturbing volume, but at least she was no longer being taken over by sound. Unfortunately...there was no saving her fingers. In rebuttal, she magicked a few of the mimes into the opposite of her fingers...rendering them solemnly solid rather than striped. 

 Kaden tried to pull away and swore he could have made it, but it was too late. It didn’t matter. The balloon exploded and rained down color on them. Great. That was fine. Just a nice pretty balloon. And he seemed to be free to walk away. “Great. Nice seeing you again. I guess.” And while Nora rolled away, Kaden just walked around Marie-Jeanne as she blew him a kiss and headed towards the ball. He looked down briefly and noticed the color seemed to be following him. Hmm, no it was on him. He looked down at his clothes and noticed, like Nora’s they were all rainbow. He look at his hands and his fingernails were rainbow colored. With a deep dread, he sighed and leaned over to take a quick look at himself in a pane of glass nearby. He saw his hair. It, too, was rainbow colored. “Putain de merde!” he screamed. Loudly. It wasn’t Regan loud, but it was loud. He heard balloons popping in the distance. And what sounded like flesh exploding closer by. He looked to his left and black sludge was splattered across the way. 

Whilst trying to help the first row of chairs up again Jared tripped. He’d never been super sure in his step when he was wearing shoes. So, as he tripped a balloon tied off to one of the nearby benches popped. In the rain of confetti Jared blinked. And then he blinked again. His entire being was striped. But it wasn’t static. He was flashing stripes that moved up and down his body as if to the beat of the remaining music from the band. He was a disco mime.

Nell's stripes began to extend down her fingers and her arms. They extended into her clothes. She would notice that, but the more sinister change, she would not notice later tonight, once she was out of these stripey clothes. She could only speak when dressed as a mime. 

 Solomon's statement made Arthur snicker even if he was kind of disgusted by the sentiment. "That's rank, ew." But his disgust was forgotten as Mercy wandered off into the crowd attempting to roughly track her movements but she was lost for a few and so he turned back to Solomon. "She is. Like the coolest." There was a small swell of warm pride as Mercy returned and whatever she had done he knew it was bound to be great. In for a penny in for a pound, he popped another three balloons. One of which splattered a white substance on the ground into which a young boy stepped... And got stuck. "Mummy!” the boy screamed “Mummy! Help! I'm stuck!" The second balloon popped, and a rotten banana peel fell out of the sky landing on Mercy’s head with a wet squelch.

 Marie-Jeanne exploded at the sound of Kaden's yell. She would be back.

 Sam listed off more town facts and corporate sponsors as the sparkler burned in his hand. His eyes briefly strayed to the sparkler ignition. Pure white and black flames poured from the sparkler, strange umbral fire and pale fluoresce weaved together in a mydriatic dance that caused an ecliptic blur across Sam’s vision when he focused on it. 

 How..did…how could fire? That's not how light works..right?

 A cough from the camera guy brought Sam back to reality, away from questions, and unwelcome thoughts suppressed across generations. Sam grinned with a thumbs up as the mime-flame burned without a sound.

 A rainbow tear slid down Nora's face as Marie-Jeanne exploded in front of them. Nora, tied up, defeated, lay there. Was there a point to stealing the ball? This was a bad end to the year.

 Nora looked defeated. Which was probably for the best. They likely didn’t need to anger the mimes anymore. “Come on, let’s go back to the party or whatever you’d call this,” Kaden said as he tugged on Nora’s arm to lead them back to the center of the Common. As they made their way back to the center of the Common, he saw Nell. Covered in stripes. “Putain de merde, what the hell happened to you?” he said in between laughter. It was horrifying, sure. But it was also fucking hilarious. 

 The gayest bear to ever exist, covered in rainbows and stripes, followed Kaden without complaint. Not a word would come from Nora’s mourning mouth for the rest of the night. The rest of the new year was in memory of Marie-Jeanne.

 An enthralling quiet descended across the crowd as the mimes began to mime out the minute long countdown. Even if you wanted to yell (with two colourful exceptions) you would barely speak louder than a whisper.  On top of a tall spire, a striped black and white ball slowly descended. The silence rang like an orchestral harmony, which was a strange experience for everyone who hadn't heard loud silence before. When the clock hit midnight, the silence was loudest of all. Then the ball burst, and black sauce the hadn't been seen since the Sauce had dried up exploded over the whole common, covering many people. Those who got some in their mouths would soon come to regret it. 

 “What happened to me? What happened to you?” Nell cackled as she took in his rainbow stripes. But Nell certainly wasn’t about to let Kaden have the last laugh, and with another narrow of her eyes and quick spellwork, she wasted no time in hauling a metric fuck-ton of Sauce towards the hunter, pouring it over Kaden in a cursed and sticky waterfall, but purposefully leaving his rainbow hair on full display. 

 Snickering as the banana peel dropped on his new friend’s head, Solomon gave Arthur a nod in solidarity. Not wanting to fall behind, he made sure to get another popped balloon under his belt, but… nothing happened? He was certainly close enough to have seen it, the young man was passing right by them, balloon tucked beneath his arm when Solomon reached out and burst it with a prick of his thorned finger. Disappointed, he gave the two of them a shrug. “Guess it was a dud…?” Glancing up as a sudden hush fell over the crowd, he watched with interest as the mimes counted down silently, the ball slowly started to slide down, and then… exploded? Alarmed, he raised his arms to cover his face, sidestepping behind Arthur quickly as he could.

 “Nah. Bird poops all runny. Was too thick for that.” Mercy wiped her hand on her jeans as she departed for the crowd. It wasn’t often that she used her power to such an extent, but tonight, with so much chaotic energy thrumming around them, the pull was… irresistible. Add Arthur’s gleeful encouragement - along with that of her new friend Solomon - and nothing could stop her from tipping the scales in favor of letting chaos reign supreme. She gave Arthur a warm, knowing smirk as she returned, and glanced at Solomon as the moment the bell would toll drew closer. “You’ll see…” She looked up as the little boy got stuck in the glue, but his mother got him out eventually, sans a shoe she didn’t bother to retrieve. “Eww!” she laughed, swiping the banana peel off her head… “That’s so gro-...” Mercy’s voice fell to a whisper. She frowned. She looked at her watch.

 There was only silence where a bell should’ve sounded the time… 

 Silence that was deafening… until...

 ...pop… pop… pop-pop… POP

 The sound of balloons. 

 Because in the crowd that Mercy had ducked through moments earlier, people were raising whatever they could find to the floating bits of plastic… and as the New Year began… they were popping them, one by one. Not all of them, and not everyone, but enough. 

 Mercy wasn’t sure what was happening. Only that she was covered in…. glitter. So much glitter… but it could've been worse. So much worse. So in true Fury fashion, she embraced the chaos she’d helped create… and laughed. 

 The echo of pops broke the otherwise eerie silence and Arthur didn't even bother to stifle his chuckle. "No no no!" he protested as Solomon tried to hide, grabbing his friends arm and scuffling to get behind him instead... Right as a balloon popped over his head and covered him in glitter. Well, that was the weirdest New Year’s he’d ever experienced.

 Even the camera footage has been tainted with the Sauce as Sam and his camera crew tried the playback function on soggy recording device. Everything just played back in black and white without any sound, like an old silent film. 

 Sam tried to give an updated new report on what happened for the Camera after trying to wipe black goo from his hair and gag it off his tongue. But he couldn’t speak. Sam raised his voice and even shouted until he was red in the face, but not even a rasping sound left his throat. 

 Eventually the sauce-sodden student was reduced to forlornly scribbling on the cue card with markers and holding them up to the camera. 

 HAPPY NEW YEAR WHITE CREST

 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

[divineluce]

Tears in a Vial || Luce & Nadia?

Timing: July 3rd, 2020

Location: Nadia’s Apartment

Tagging: @humanmoodring & @divineluce

Description: Luce and Nadia have a not at all concerning chat about bruised ribs, phoenix tears, and equivalent exchange.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Luce groaned. Fuck. Her doctor had said that it would be a while before she was feeling herself again and that she should avoid doing strenuous activities. Which, apparently, included going up stairs. “Fuck me.” She muttered, as she made her way up the last flight of stairs. Between the pain in her side, the sickeningly rapid pounding of her heart, and just general weakness… She needed those phoenix tears. Now more than ever. Nell was in danger, she was kidnapped and held at some fucked up monster fight club. And Remmy… Remmy was there with her. The way they’d thrashed on the floor of Bea’s kitchen, it’d scared her, shocked her. Concerned her. What that meant… She wasn’t going to think about that right now. Luce wiped at the slight sheen of moisture on her forehead as she made her way to Nadia��s apartment. She did her best to look a bit more presentable, fixing her hair outside the door, before knocking on it. When the door swung open, she offered a slightly crooked grin to disguise the pain that had continued to run up her side. “Hey, Nadia.” She said. “Thanks for letting me come by.”

Whoever Luce was, Nadia knew enough about her that she knew how to get to the apartment. Oh, and she and Nadia occasionally screwed. That in and of itself was interesting because Nadia Diaz didn’t do casual fuck buddies or whatever. She just didn’t. She was incapable because she almost always became sickeningly attached, even without sex being involved. But, hey, if the little empath had been growing in her absence, good. It meant her behavior wouldn’t be so off, anymore. Because now she had a much larger audience to play act to, and she had to be careful. Afterall, this hadn’t been as easy of a takeover as the first time. Opening the door, Nadia went for a soft smile as she looked at the woman in front of her before letting it slide off her face. This Luce felt miserable. “You climbed up to the third floor of an apartment with broken ribs,” she said without thinking. It was kind of impressive, really. She blinked and moved out of the way to let Luce in. Should she help her? Would Nadia help her? She had no idea. “Uh, yeah. It’s no problem.”

Noticing the way Nadia’s expression shifted, Luce shifted uncomfortably. Was there something wrong? The last time she’d been over, when she’d dodged the questions surrounding why she had wanted to hook up with Nadia, the woman had worn a similar expression when she opened the door. An initial smile that faded away to something different. “Yeah. No elevator, so stairs it was.” She said with an off-hand wave of her hand. It only hurt when she breathed. And really who needed breathing? Slipping inside, Luce nodded again. “I appreciate it, though. Broken ribs, they’re not exactly ideal.” She said not really knowing how else to bring things up. All the other times she’d been here before, they’d both known what was on the table. Meaningless sex, no strings attached. But her reason for being here right now was far more transactional than anything they’d done before. Nadia had phoenix tears and she… needed them. 

“The stairs are the most tragic part of living here,” Nadia mused as she headed towards the kitchen. That, and the neighbors. The banshee was a fucking pain in the ass, and the old woman… something about her set improperly. It probably just had something to do with the fact that Nadia didn’t care for old people. Whatever. Luce’s pain, along with an undercurrent of awkwardness and concern, were distracting, prickling at the corners of her mind in a way she hated. She was at the cabinet with the tears before she knew it, holding a bottle of them in her hands. It was funny; she hadn’t even know where the tears were stored. Now, she looked into the cabinet, counting the vials and smiling. Fucking fantastic. She could stretch them out, make them last, maybe sell a few as needed. Vial in hand not included, of course. She walked over to Luce with a smile, planning on teasing her, taunting a bit, but her hand shot out without her control, vial in hand. Her jaw felt clenched. Nadia closed her eyes, attempting to rein in control.

“But hey, the view’s at least worth it. And I mean,” Luce let a slightly mischievous, flirty grin slide across her face. “Going up and down that many stairs every day pays off in other ways.” She said, flicking her eyes deliberately up and down the other woman. She didn’t want Nadia to see how much pain she was in-- that wasn’t their deal. They were just people who fucked, that was it. Same as Remmy. A lump formed in the back of her throat at the thought of them, remembering the way they had writhed in pain on the ground. They’d just been so shaken, so incredibly in pain. She’d never seen them like that before. And that necklace… Whatever the fuck it was, it wasn’t good. She knew that much. Which is why she was here. To get the phoenix tears, get better, and then… figure out what the fuck was going on with them. Because they deserved better than that. Not because she cared, but because they had suffered for too long to have to go through whatever fresh hell they’d found themselves in. As Nadia thrust the small vial out to her, Luce jumped slightly, startled out of her train of thought. “Oh thank-- hey,” She frowned, looking at the way the woman’s eyes closed, “Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s a great view,” Nadia’d commented with a wink. She knew the other woman was flirting, checking her out. Which, couldn’t blame her on that one. It was a great body; the stairs were definitely a decent workout, sort of. She’d lost muscle mass in her time away, but nothing major. She probably couldn’t climb in and out of buildings as easily. That was hardly important now, though, as she fought for control. This girl doesn’t fucking care, she screamed at someone who probably couldn’t even hear her. She didn’t know where the host went when the body was possessed, if they could hear the possessor. Still, she kept thinking savage thoughts, harsh reminders spurred on by Luce’s own emotions. Until the faint pinprick of concern worked its way through, and Nadia had to stop paying attention. “Fine,” she said, her voice a bit rough as she forced herself to speak. This was so fucking dumb. Nadia needed to knock it off. There was nothing about Luce or any of their online interactions, from what she could tell, that showed anything more than physical attraction. After all, they barely knew anything about each other below the surface. She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. “Totally fine, just a long ass week.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” She added a smile. “I don’t suppose you want these, do you?” she asked, shaking the bottle.

The wink caught Luce off guard, but she rolled with it. And her words too-- Nadia had never really reciprocated her flirtations like that before. It was always a more stuttering response, some kind of bashful look before she eventually took the compliment. But, maybe she was just feeling herself today, who knows. Brushing it off, she watched the way the other woman paused, the way her eyes flicked open. “Sounds about right. Seems like there’s been a lot of those going on for a lot of people.” She nodded. “But, hey, here’s hoping that next week treats you better.” As Nadia shook the vial in front of her, the clear bottle dangling from her fingers, Luce felt her jaw clench slightly. She did. She needed them. Whatever was going on with Remmy, with their strange situation… She needed to be back at top condition again. “Yeah-- Like I said, I can pay, money’s really not a problem. There are just things I need to take care of and I can’t really do that like this.”

Nadia grinned. Honestly, the week was already getting better. She was living, after all, and that put her leagues ahead of where she was. Back in a body she was comfortable in, too, where it felt like she’d carved a space for herself to stay. She’d been untethered for months, but now things were better, stable. She wasn’t going anywhere. She moved over to the dining room table, set the vial down and took a seat. “I don’t want money,” she lied. She did want money, almost all the time and in copious amounts so that she could use it to buy a copious amount of things. However, she wanted more than just money off of Luce. At least, that’s what she was telling herself. She didn’t want to acknowledge the part of her that was screaming at her to help this girl. It was much harder to ignore than the one that screamed not to hurt people that annoyed her. After all, Luce had yet to be particularly annoying. That made her favorable company already, along with her constant reassurances to herself that this was just a casual thing, her desires to pay or provide a debt. These were Nadia’s favorite types of people, the ones that saw the world as she did. Everything had a price, and everyone paid. Better to be owed than owe. “I do want to know how you broke your ribs, though. I’m concerned about your extracurriculars if you’re going about getting yourself broken all the time,” she said, both teasing and inquiring (and, if there was a bit of concern actually coloring her voice, then she was just a really good actress, nothing more).

Taking in Nadia’s question, Luce’s shoulders tensed as she tried to figure out where to even start. She couldn’t. She couldn’t, there was too much. Too much that the other woman didn’t need to know, that she didn’t need to be burdened by. They were just fucking. That was it. Regardless of the conversations they’d had, both in and out of bed, they were just fucking. No need to tell her more than she needed. So, Luce went for the partial truth. “I fucked around with a bit too much magic and that sort of thing has consequences. Mine came by way of broken ribs. Call it karma, call it equivalent exchange. It all comes with a price.” She said with a sigh. The slight change in her exhale made her ribs twinge in pain and she resisted the urge to wince. Fuck. “I just got a bit in over my head. But, I’m not gonna be messing with it anymore.” Nope. Never again. Not ever. 

Maybe the reason that Nadia’s host kept Luce around was because she was a human storm of emotion. Since the moment she stepped in, always feeling far too much despite her cool exterior. It might’ve been too much, really, except she hadn’t felt anything so real in so long that it was almost heady. She grinned, keeping it soft. “Alright, yeah, I get that. Not the fucking around with magic. But equivalent exchange. I get that.” This girl was a lot like her. That was a comforting thought. Obviously, Nadia didn’t know her well. Or maybe it was the other way around. The OG Nadia Diaz would do anything for the people that she cared about, no questions asked. Unfortunately, there were too many people around here that she had cared about. Somehow, Luce had made it onto the list. It was baffling. “Glad you’re not gonna mess with shit like that anymore, though. Seems a bit hard for your health, yeah?” She couldn’t pick out a lie in Luce’s words. She hadn’t even realized that part of her was looking for one.

“Yeah?” Luce said, a bit surprised. Concepts like the exchange of one thing for another, of the universe always finding a way to bring balance and return to some kind of middle ground, not many people got them. Some might think it cruel, or unfair. But, that was magic. It was neutral, it didn’t pick sides. It was power, it was a weapon, it was healing, it was… everything. And, though she used it, she didn’t possess magic any more than anyone possessed fire itself. It was a part of her, worked with her. It asked for energy and gave her power in return. Shaking her head, Luce focused on Nadia once more. “Yeah, definitely not going to be doing anything big soon. Well. Not without…” Her gaze flicked back to the vial of phoenix tears in Nadia’s hand. She hated that she was being so… transactional. But that’s what this was. That’s all they were. She just had to get over it. 

Maybe that wasn’t the proper response, Nadia thought, but it was a bit too late now. It didn’t seem to be a bad one, at least, causing more surprise than anything negative. She could work with that. It was hard, these days, navigating these new people, and there were so many of them. However, if she could fool her host’s friends (well, friend, really) and  the family who had known the girl her entire life, she could fool people that were essentially strangers. “Everything comes with a price, I’ve been told,” she mused. Something about Luce, her emotions, her words, caused something sharp to shoot through Nadia’s chest, a feeling that was neither hers nor Luce’s. Good. Maybe it’d keep Nadia away. “Except for this, that is.” She handed Luce the vial of tears. “These should help with your ribs. But,” she paused, the words thick in her throat, “but be careful. I mean, I’m sure you will.” She wasn’t sure at all, but she needed to distance herself from the words and why she said them. As if she knew why she said them. “But, yeah. I’d rather not have to give you more. Those might be a bit more costly,” she teased and winked. It was easier to flirt than to try and understand what she was feeling. She loved feeling stuff, unless it made her ask questions. She didn’t have time for that shit.

“You’re not wrong about that.” Luce nodded, though the words only confused her more. If that was the case, then why was she-- but then, Nadia pressed the small vial of phoenix tears into the palm of her hand. Closing her fingers around them, she offered a slight wince as her cold fingers brushed against the other woman’s palm. For once, Nadia was the one warm to the touch. “Sorry, cold hands.” She apologized, though she didn’t totally understand why. Maybe it was because she knew how much the other woman liked her warmth and heat. As Nadia winked again, Luce blinked in response. She was definitely flirting. Which was… so unlike her. What had gotten into Nadia? Just an off day or something? Pushing the questions from her mind, she offered an easy grin. “We could work out a pay by installment situation.” She said, running a finger up Nadia’s arm lightly. “If it ever came to it.” Luce backed away, her ribs twinging as she did. “In the meantime… Thanks. Really. This, this helps a lot.”

That was a nice sensation, touching another person, especially one with a normal body temperature. Luce could say she had cold hands all she wanted, but nothing compared to a motherfucking banshee thinking it was cool to cuddle when she felt like a damn dead body. “Don’t worry about it,” Nadia said, not really understanding the significance. Luce was human. She had a human body temp. It was nothing to apologize for. Maybe Nadia was the one that should apologize. She kept doing the wrong things, shocking Luce, shocking the people that she talked to online. She should leave White Crest, but something was keeping her here. She told herself it was the money she had stashed and the money she could make off the fuckers that lived here. That was it. Her soft grin widened, sharpening despite the fact that she knew she needed to rein it in. After all, if Luce was flirting back, what was the harm? “I think a payment plan would work nicely. If it ever came down to it, of course.” She gave a bit of a bow. “No thanks necessary. I’m glad to be of service.” And, despite her words, she knew there was now a favor owed, even if it was on a cosmic sort of level. She did a good thing, therefore she deserved a good thing, be it from Luce or the universe. She expected payment, and she’d get it. One way or the other.

Luce resisted the urge to frown at the other woman’s response. None of this… felt like it should. The times they’d talked before, all the other times she’d been in this apartment, none of them had felt like this. There was just something strange, something off about how she was acting. In one moment, she was the normal Nadia Luce had come to know. In another, she was flirting, winking, making sly jokes. Strange didn’t even begin to cover it. “Yeah. I should go, but feel free to text if you need anything.” She said with a nod before making her way out the apartment. When she stepped out into the hallway, Luce let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The motion sent a spasm of pain through her ribs and she let out a gasp of pain. It grounded her back to the reality of her situation, of what she had to do. Whatever was going on with Nadia, she was going to have to wait. She had to focus on one thing at a time. But, once Nell was back home, once Remmy was safe, she’d get to the bottom of this. She had to. Why? Well… because it was the right thing to do. That was it, Luce told herself as she began to take the stairs back down, her ribs filled with a stabbing pain with every step. It was just the right thing to do. Nothing else. 

[humanmoodring-retired]

Season’s Yeetings Pt. 1 || Blanche, Connor, Nadia (x2), Regan, and Kaden

TIMING: Present PARTIES: @harlowhaunted @connorspiracy @humanmoodring @kadavernagh @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Another exorcism. feat. Mav the Exorcist CONTENT: Self harm, suicide attempt (possession-driven)

If it could, Nadia was sure that her heart would be beating way too fast. She was… scared didn’t seem like it could properly encompass what she was feeling. Nervous and terrified and resigned in case things went wrong. And this could really go wrong. This could go terribly, actually, ending with not just a dead body but the wrong spirit also being destroyed. But she didn’t think she could handle being like this for much longer, and she knew that there was no way in hell Cordelia could be allowed to keep her body and do whatever she wanted with it. This had to end, no matter what. She looked around her apartment, covered in dust and messy as the day she’d walked out. This was the first time she’d been in it since the wards had been put up, and it hurt a bit to be back. This was somewhere that she’d once felt safe, comfortable. She didn’t know if she’d ever feel comfortable again if she made it out of this. But she needed to steel her resolve. She looked over at the others, gave them a nod and what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’re just waiting for Kaden and the exorcist, right?” And her body, of course, but that didn’t need to be voiced, did it?

Regan knew that she didn’t need to remind Nadia of what she had said in the cabin. It was as good as a promise, even though she couldn’t say the word. Nadia wouldn’t die alone. No matter what happened here today, Regan could at least give her that. And anything could happen. The first aid kit Regan had set on the counter was testament to that. Nadia didn’t want to acknowledge it verbally, but her tense expressions and manic pacing -- sometimes through the floor -- said what her words didn’t. She was terrified. In some moments, Regan allowed herself to be, too. This wasn’t how Regan wanted to come back to their apartment together, both of them ghosts of their former selves, but if today went in their favor -- and she would do anything she possibly could to see that it would -- one of them could be saved.

When Blanche and a young man who she assumed to be Connor arrived, Regan backed up to the opposite side of the room, staring across at them with a tight frown and black eyes. She didn’t greet them, but she wouldn’t shame them either. She didn’t have anger inside of her anymore -- not enough to speak -- but from an objective point of view, she did blame the two of them for Nadia’s current predicament. They would set this right, or they would face consequences. They both seem determined but anxious, focused with heavy steps and tight knuckles. Blanche, especially, seemed more an adult than she ever had before. Regan silently watched as some parts of the stage were set. Candles, salt, metal which looked dangerously like iron, and more. For her own contribution, she pushed the furniture to the sides of the room, creating an open space in the center. She could see all of their footprints in the dust, layered on top of each other and the ones she had left just a couple of weeks ago. When that was done, she went back to her wall, maintaining as much distance as possible from anyone who wasn’t Nadia. “Yes,” Regan replied, Nadia’s nervous smile melting through her a little, “Kaden said he would be ready at twenty after.” She checked her watch. Soon. “As for the-- I don’t know anything about them.”

Did it make him look better or worse to show up with homework? Photocopied pages lay folded in his back pocket, but he hadn’t dared pull them out in front of the others. He’d read them countless times anyway. Connor was more than grateful for the material’s Leah had copied from her archives for him, as well as everything he'd found while researching with Rio, but he still hadn’t managed to find anything that related to the exact situation they’d found themselves in. As far as he could tell, exorcising the wrong soul from a body just didn’t happen all that often. He supposed either he was that much of a fuck up, or Nadia’s situation was just that special. Regardless, he reckoned the older exorcist would know. “Do you know where Kaden found this bloke?” Connor asked nobody in particular. He wondered if it would be impolite to smoke a cigarette while they waited. He opted against it, since the woman with the dark eyes seemed ready to kill him at any moment. “I mean, I appreciate the help. I really do. I just wanna check what exactly we know about him.”

The somber expression on Blanche’s face couldn’t seem to leave, even as she entered the apartment and took a look at Nadia and Regan. “Hey,” she said in greeting, her tone flat. She couldn’t say much else. Blanche dropped her smaller bag on a piece of furniture and began to set up as much as she could - Blanche was conscious enough to keep the iron as far from Regan as possible. She glanced at Connor as he began to speak, pulling the long black bag she had on her back off. “He has his connections. I’m sure he’s adequate,” Blanche replied, though she was unsure too. Granny had instilled a distrust of exorcists in her from when she was young. She wasn’t sure how much of that was out of fear of being exorcised herself, but Blanche knew that a lot of people liked to masquerade with powers they didn’t actually have for the chance to get quick cash from desperate people. She unzipped the large bag, before pausing, with a frown. Warily, she announced, “I borrowed a shotgun from a friend,” she said, pulling it out. Well, really, she borrowed it from Stan, who was all too keen to give her a firearm after she got stabbed in his place of business. “It’s loaded with salt rounds. In case things get… Bad.” She glanced at the door, moving her equipment out of the way. “I suppose we’ll hear them.” She looked to Connor. “And we’ll feel Cordelia whenever she’s nearby.”

It had been so long since Kaden pulled up to Regan’s apartment, pulling up to park in front of the building felt strange and foreign at this point. Putain, he hated that. Still, there was a small sense of relief. This was finally almost over. “Welcome home,” he said to Cordelia as he led her from the car up to the top floor. It was eerie being here, even though there were plenty of people waiting inside. Maybe it was because of how abandoned the building felt now. Maybe it was because of how defeated Cordelia seemed, almost accepting of her fate. Almost. Didn’t matter. He carted her upstairs and walked her in. His heart caught in his chest as he looked around the room. Empty, cleared out, and covered in dust nothing like he remembered. It was strange to see it like this. It was strange, too, to see Regan in this context. Willingly, at that. Black eyes and distanced, it was almost easy to forget who it was. Almost. This wasn’t the return to this building he expected for both of them. He winced when he remembered what he’d done to Cordelia’s wrist. Nadia’s body’s wrist. Hopefully Regan didn’t think too poorly of him. But it was too late to do anything about it now. And if this worked, a broken wrist was the least of Nadia’s worries. Blanche was here, too. With a shotgun no less. He shot her a look but let it lie. And also some kid he assumed was Connor. He couldn’t see Nadia even if he wanted to. Now where the fuck was this exorcist?

“Howdy, folks,” the man with a mustache said as he walked through the door behind Kaden, tipping his stetson. “I heard we have a big here nut to crack.” He took a good look around the room and assessed the situation. “I see you all followed instructions. Thank you kindly, this set up should work just fine. Just fine.” He noted the handcuffed woman in the center of the room and made a quick guess that was the little lady in question. “Mr. Langley, good to see you again. I suppose some introductions might be in order. My name’s Maverick, but you can call me Mav.” He was told there was going to be a medium, another younger exorcist, and a banshee. He wasn’t sure what a banshee was doing in these here parts or what her particular interest was in this here ghost, but he wasn’t one to question. Not if he was going to rake and scrape himself together a handsome pay day out of this job. “First thing’s first. I believe a repossession is in order, is that the case here? No need to dilly dally if we’re all ready and raring to go. You all know the plan?”

“What a fucking gentleman,” Nadia snapped at Kaden as they walked into her old apartment. Good memories, she remembered. There was the cabinet where she stored all of her equipment, and that was the couch that she’d passed out on after a couple of good heist, and there was what was left of the kitchen table that she’d definitely destroyed on her way out of this place. She rolled her shoulders, felt Kaden’s knife shift from where she’d tucked it in the waistband of her jeans, the shirt covering it up. She’d just need to snap her handcuffs off like she had the last time this happened. Whatever, she could do it. She could do it. She looked around the room, glancing at the little banshee, the children, the shadow of her host. “Howdy, folks,” she said mockingly. “This looks like a party, huh?” When the mustachioed hombre walked in, she rolled her eyes and glanced at the shadow, at Nadia Diaz. Give me your best shot, she said with her eyes.

For her part, Nadia didn’t know what the hell she was supposed to do. This next part was on her, right? She had to get this started, wasn’t she? She was. Of course she was. But she was a bit nervous. Really nervous. Scared, maybe, was the right word. She gritted her teeth as she and Cordelia stared at each other, steeling herself. All she could see was her reflection in the mirror, grinning as she faded out of existence. Except Nadia couldn’t fade now. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. She stepped forward instead. “Right. I-- I repossess her, and you exorcise her out, right?” It sounded easy. This was her body, too. It was her body. She could do this. “Is there…” She trailed off as she looked at Cordelia. What a mess the two of them had made of her life. Looking in that woman’s eyes, her eyes, Nadia knew what she wanted. She wanted her fucking life back. “Is there anything else I should do?”

For a moment, Regan lifted herself from the wall when Kaden walked in, yearning to approach. But now wasn’t the time for so many reasons, and she was forgetting herself. Cordelia -- Nadia’s body -- was dragged in, wrist swollen under the handcuffs in a way that made Regan think it might be broken. Would Kaden have-- later, that was something to think about later. Once Nadia was in there again. So she stayed glued to the edge of the room, eyes flitting between Nadia, Kaden, and the shotgun that looked so massive and out of place in Blanche’s small hands. There was only one more person they were waiting on now, and just as Regan thought it, their final party member swung into the room looking like a man straight out of a spaghetti western, but far scrawnier. He appeared almost as malnourished as that child Blanche and Kaden were friendly with, Rio. But despite his protein deficiencies, his mustache still glistened under the dull lightbulbs -- which Regan suspected wouldn’t be there long considering her own track record -- and he seemed energized and ready. Where on earth had Kaden found this man?

“Hello,” Regan said in response, her first words to anyone other than Nadia, “What are your credentials?” She bore into him, not stepping any closer. Was Nadia really ready to pour all of her trust and hopes into this? Regan looked over to her friend for a moment, seeing her fear and tenseness. She offered a hand, though she knew Nadia couldn’t exactly take it; maybe it would still be enough. “I’m Regan. I’m here for Nadia. I’m a-- I was a doctor. I will not let anyone die here today.” As for Mav’s question, she had no answer for him; she’d leave that to Blanche and Connor to answer. She relayed her friend’s concerns instead, in case Mav or others were unable to hear her. “Nadia is wondering if there’s anything she should do.”

Connor's eyes widened as Blanche drew the weapon. "You bloody Americans and your guns," he sighed, but they could have done worse in this situation than a rocksalt shotgun. It was powerful, yet non-lethal, at least at the right distance. "Just be careful. Get too close and you'll blow her fucking chest out even without actual bullets." Thankfully, Kaden and Cordelia's arrival saved them from further conversation about the weapon. "Oh, you're as lovely as ever, darlin'," Connor scoffed, his confidence boosted by the presence of the others in the room. Kaden seemed as gloomy and squinty-eyed as the last time Connor had seen him clearing Snicker-Snackers out of his apartment, yet this time, the weight of his bad mood was far, far heavier.

Connor stood as the final man walked into the room, raising an eyebrow as if this was some type of bloody joke. He imagined this was what John Wayne would look like as an exorcist. "Mav," he repeated, extending his hand. "Y'alright, mate? I'm Connor. I'm gonna be helping you out with this one." He was glad he wasn't the only one who wanted to know the stranger's credentials. Thankfully, Regan had saved him from asking the man directly. He could feel Nadia's nerves, her fear, and somewhere in there, her determination. Connor couldn't touch her, couldn't offer a comforting hand, but he gave her as reassuring a smile as he could manage. "Just stay strong, yeah? Stay focused. You got this."

“I know. If I didn’t know how to use it, I wouldn’t have it,” Blanche snapped quietly at Connor, her already bad temper souring even further. She refused to look at Cordelia, there was no need, considering Nadia hadn’t yet repossessed her body. She wouldn’t need to watch for the struggle for control between them -- not yet, at least. Blanche pressed her lips together into a thin line, examining the exorcist carefully. Had she died and woken up in a bad Western? Blanche was with Regan on this one, and she glanced at the Banshee quickly before turning back to Mav. What were this man’s credentials? It wasn’t like she could ask for a CV or an exorcist license… Blanche slung the shotgun over her shoulder, finally stepping forward to greet him. “Blanche. Medium. I’ll be running telekinetic interference in case it gets…” She let out a breath, remembering the telekinetic game of tug-of-war her and Constance played in the classroom. She had thrown the teacher’s desk through a window. Blanche grimaced, and she hoped they didn’t completely trash Nadia’s apartment. “Completely out of hand.” Eyes narrow, Blanche glanced at Nadia. “Whenever you’re ready to begin, Nadia. Just like we practiced.” She looked back at Mav, still distrusting of him. Finally, lowering her voice, she asked. “You can tell what she is, right? The spirit in the body?” He had to at least be able to answer that Cordelia was a poltergeist. It was the only question she could think to answer to make sure they weren’t getting scammed.

Kaden wanted to go over to Regan, give her hand a quick squeeze of reassurance before slinking off to the side, but it wouldn’t help. The only thing that would help was finishing this, giving Nadia back what was hers. He wished he could see her, give her some reassurance before all this started. “Mav’s one of the best there is. Trust me,” he said before backing away to the door. He had to be. After what Kaden sacrificed to get him here, he had to be. This wouldn’t be for nothing. “I’ll be right at the door. Let me know if you need me.” With that he headed to the door, giving the scene one last look. He really hoped he’d be useless here and it’d be over sooner rather than later. He had to trust this was the best group possible to make this happen.

Mav gave the hunter a nod. “I’ll call on you if I need you, partner.” He didn’t know much about this Langley fellow but he trusted Porter would only refer him to someone worth his time. And this case sure sounded like a doozy. “Nice to meet you, youngin,” he said, shaking Connor’s hand. “I hope you’re good and ready for this rodeo. It’s sure to be a hullabaloo. Just follow my lead and stay by me.” It seemed like Mav and Mr. Langley might be the only two in the room who couldn’t see ghosts by the sound of it. That was alright, he didn’t need to see them to exorcise them. “Telekinesis? Well I'll be damned. That’s a horse of a different color right there, boy howdy.” That was more than he bargained for from a medium. This might not be a total disaster after all. Maybe they had a shot. Though not if they all kept on questioning him. He hoped he could settle this score and keep the quarreling to the spirits. “Young lady, I’ve been dealing with ghosts and performing exorcisms since I was knee high to a grasshopper. I know a poltergeist when I feel one and you’d best believe I know how to handle one so none of y’all need to fret about any credentials, you hear?”

Mav fastened his hat on his head a little tighter and rolled up his sleeves before pulling out his grand pappy’s old iron pocket watch. It was a silly old trinket, but it was a fool proof focal point for him. “We’ll need our Ms. Diaz to repossess her body. Once she’s in there, we’ll start the exorcism. The circle here should keep little lady Cordelia trapped while we do the banishment. There’s bound to be a lot of rattling and hollering but it’s very important that once I start wagging my mouth that no one interrupts me. One missed syllable is all it’ll take for things to go belly up in a delicate situation such as this one. So if we’re ready to start wobbling jaws and get this show on the road, y’all need to be absolutely sure you’re ready.”

Just repossess the body. That was all Nadia needed to worry about doing. She looked at where Cordelia and her body waited within the circle. The moment she crossed that line, she’d be stuck in there with a homicidal maniac until everything was completed. The way that Cordelia looked at her without really seeing her would have chilled Nadia to the bones. This had to be the most twisted form of self-loathing, when her own eyes were filled with so much hate, but she wasn’t even in there. Nadia looked at Regan’s hand and, comforted, stepped forward. Cordelia straightened up, her mouth set in a hard line. Nadia crossed into the circle, and there was no going back. She stood toe to toe with her own body, her feet floating off the ground and making her an inch or so taller. Once again, Nadia felt like she was staring at her reflection in a mirror back in Phoenix, blood on her hands and a smile that wasn’t hers, had never been hers, stretching across her mouth. She was done with this. Nadia reached her hand out and grabbed her own shoulder.

It felt weird, feeling Nadia Diaz’s hand pass through her body, but the sensation meant that the repossession didn’t work, and all Nadia could do was laugh. “You can’t even be dead properly, can you?” she hissed at the translucent figure in front of her. “God, any ghost worth their shit can possess. Come on, champ, try again.” She looked out amongst the group in front of them, from the little banshee to the cowboy, sneering. Bet they felt like dumbasses, backing the wrong Nadia. She was clearly the better of the two, more in control and more capable of taking care of this body. Not that it’d matter for long, but, shit, it was as if Nadia didn’t even want it anymore. Just like when Nadia had taken over, the girl had no fight. She couldn’t have fought back if she wanted to. “Didn’t you hear me, you dumb bitch? Try aga--” Nadia gasped, and, for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t alone in her head anymore.

The first thing Nadia noticed was that she was unbalanced. She wobbled a bit, trying to remember how to plant her feet on solid ground. Her wrist hurt. Her throat hurt. Her head was killing her. She had to blink tears out of her eyes for a moment as everything came back into focus. She was trembling, but she could feel it. She could feel everything, not just herself, and the weight of it was crushing. It was relieving. But she could feel Cordelia, too, just underneath the surface, and the poltergeist was so much stronger than she was. However, Cordelia wasn’t the one that was used to being possessed, and this would always be Nadia’s body first. For a moment, and just a moment, she had total control, even if the spirit taking up residence in her body fought like a motherfucker. “Now,” she gasped out, locking eyes with anyone that she could. “Start now. You’ve got to start now.”

Regan wasn’t sure why Blanche felt the need to mention her size to Mav (she was more shrimpy than medium, though neither of those words were qualitative enough for Regan’s liking), but she was already struggling to follow everything else that was happening. Telekinesis? Horses? A pocket watch that made a shiver roll down her spine? Instead of trying to make sense of nonsense, she turned her attention to Nadia and Kaden. As much as she wanted him to stay here, she knew it was important that someone guard the door. The last thing they needed was for Cordelia to escape… or for Ms. Carmody to wander up insisting to see what was causing all the noise. Despite not agreeing with Mav’s chosen terminology, she understood that his warning about interruption was to be taken seriously, and for a moment, she considered promising that she wouldn’t interfere. But… what if she had to? What if there was no other option? What if Nadia’s death would be a result not of the “exorcism,” but of Regan’s inability to intervene? So she held her tongue as tightly as she held Nadia’s gaze. Her fingers felt nothing as she tried to graze her friend’s hand, but something in Nadia’s eyes told her that it helped a little nonetheless. Regan only wished she could do more. She wasn’t the best at inspirational speeches, but it seemed prudent to remind Nadia that she believed in her. “You were shot by a mime and wouldn’t even come to me for stitches,” Regan said, voice resolute, “you’ve been using hydrogen peroxide on your wounds despite my warnings, and you fearlessly confronted all of those dangerous individuals at 66 Brimme Stonne. There’s likely more that I don’t even know about.” That thought sank like a stone inside of her. “You can do this, Nadia. You’re tough and, to my chagrin, occasionally medically irresponsible. But most importantly tough. And I’ll be here. No matter what.” That was a promise Regan would have made if she could.

At Mav’s instruction, Nadia drifted into the center of the room, where Cordelia stood in handcuffs. Though Regan had seen both of them individually before, seeing them in one place, staring each other down, was maddening. Some part of her wanted to explain all of this away as a hallucination, but she couldn’t lie about that, not even to herself any longer. There was no imagining Cordelia’s fury out of nowhere, either -- it was very real, even directed at someone so insubstantial as Nadia. There wasn’t even a tremor under Cordelia’s voice; she thought herself invincible, truly believing that Nadia was going to die trying. More impossible things unfolded -- Nadia vanished. Regan looked down, expecting her to pop back up through the floor, but she didn’t. Her head swiveled frantically as she searched the room. Nadia was gone. But Cordelia -- something was changing across her face. And her balance. Cordelia nearly fell, and Regan was caught off guard by how Cordelia’s voice changed. Uncertain, fearful, frenzied, with a backbone of determination. Regan knew, then -- that was where Nadia had gone, somehow. She stayed back, lingering at the side of the room as she looked to Mav, pleading silently with him to save her friend.

Bloody hell, there were a lot of people here. Most of them actual adults. This wasn't like last time when it was a bunch of kids in the woods just hoping to get this right. Connor wasn't sure if he was intimidated by that, or comforted by it. "Right," he said, nodding and stepping into position next to Mav, trying not to let the man's colourful use of language blur his judgement. They wouldn't have invited him if he wasn't capable. This was Nadia's life at stake. "I've got you, mate." He touched his focal point, currently nestled inside his pocket. It would make its real appearance once they were ready. "You got this, Nadia," he said again, looking at her sincerely and giving her an encouraging nod.

Connor could feel the palpable tension in the room. He felt the poltergeist's fury, the struggle, the pain. He focused on the battling spirits, never taking his eyes off them, ready to leap in at any moment regardless of not knowing how he could help. "She's winning," he said, managing a hopeful smile. But they weren't out of the woods yet... There was still the rest of it to do. "Quick, I'll start getting everything in place, yeah?" No wobbly mouths, or waggling jaws, or whatever the cowboy had said. The ritual had to go perfectly. He drew the diagrams around the Nadias, taking the relics and items as Mav handed them to him, the two of them settling the playing field as Nadia and Cordelia fought for control over the other. "You’ve won, okay Nadia? Stay strong, we're almost there," he called to her.

The mustached exorcist watched and waited as the spirit of Nadia Diaz returned to her own body. Mav almost wished he could see it proper, but he didn’t need to see to know what was going on. The energy shifted around them, forces battling to occupy the same space, and beyond that, he wasn’t a spring chicken. He could hear the arguments back and forth. When she said the word, Mav didn’t hesitate to start chanting. He gripped his fingers tight around the chain of the pocket watch as he formed the Latin clean and precise even with his accent peaking through, narrowing in on the energy until it was clear and crisp as sweet tea on a summer’s day. In normal circumstances, he’d never need to focus his energy like this, not for a basic removal ritual. But this? This was three gallons of crazy in a two gallon bucket. The spirit that belonged to the body was weaker, it would take everything he had to pull the poltergeist away. And then a little more than that to banish it back to hell and keep Ms Diaz from heading down to the bone orchard herself. He felt the words forming a bond of energy, like the chain from his watch, latching onto the poltergeist and pulling at it, peeling it away from the body. She was tough as a pine nut. A focal point wasn’t enough. Without dropping a phrase, he nodded to Connor and reached out to him to pull from him, to strengthen the chain. It was going to need to be strong as steel, iron even, to make this work. But Maverick Mulaney was no failure, no sir.

Blanche understood Mav’s exasperation, but she wasn’t quick to drop her skepticism. Once it was all over, she could apologize -- or kill him, if she ended up being right. The somber thought made her grimace, even as Nadia succeeded in overtaking Cordelia and the removal started. The energy in the room was thick and made her skin tingle uncomfortably. Watching Mav start to pull from Connor, Blanche backed away and started inching closer to Regan. “Regan?” She said quietly, not taking her eyes off Nadia and Cordelia. This was probably the first thing she had said to Regan directly in a very long time, but it was better to warn her now then let her be surprised. She had seen the first exorcism, and Nadia’s screams of pain weren’t something she would soon forget. That said, maybe with the removal it would be, at least, a little better. “Once Cordelia is out, it’ll get better for Nadia.” She spoke softly so she wouldn’t disturb Mav or Connor’s concentration. “... Well… Maybe not better. But it probably won’t get worse,” she corrected herself. Her hands tightened on the gun, and let out a hissed wince as her body began to feel like ice. “I think he knows what he’s doing.” Blanche was struck again with a sort of sadness and pity for Cordelia, as well as the familiar guilt in her gut, but she shook it off. There would be time to lament her choices later, now she had to keep a careful eye on Nadia.  She narrowed her eyes at Nadia, taking a few steps forward as she tried to watch for Cordelia’s soul to be ripped out of Nadia’s body. “C’mon, c’mon. Let her go.” Blanche hissed under her breath. Before it killed Nadia.

Just like last time, Nadia felt a pulling sensation, like she was being ripped in half. She gritted her teeth against the pain so hard that she tasted iron in her mouth, but she stayed in control for as long as she could. This was working. They were going to win this. Granted, she felt like her insides were coming apart, as the connection with Cordelia that had literally just reformed was severed again and again and again. Cordelia raged against her skull, but Nadia held on as much as she could. If she concentrated, she could hear Mav chanting. She focused on that, on the sounds of words in a language that she didn’t understand. If she made it out of this-- When, when she made it out of this, she was going to start learning a new language. Maybe a dead language, something that could be useful in this fucking town. But she was making it out of this. Fuck, it was cold. It was so cold. Nadia felt herself trembling, and she opened her mouth to say something, but she didn’t say anything at all. She screamed.

“No!” Nadia screamed out, finally regaining control as the temperature in the room plummeted and the lights surged with her anger. No. This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t losing this. Not now. Not now. Just like in the last exorcism, she reached inward, to that part of her that was dead and had been for so long but refused to fucking stay that way. Again, the felt the shackles, fucking handcuffs of all things, fall from her wrist, but this time, she knew she wouldn’t make it out in time. She had one last Hail Mary. She didn’t even feel the pain in Nadia’s wrist as she gripped the knife hidden behind her back as tightly as she could. Lightning fast, she ran it against Nadia’s neck, leaving a thin red line. But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Too quick. Nadia Diaz would die suffering. She felt herself being pulled, pulled out of the body, but Nadia clung on as hard as she could, planted her heels, and dug the knife into Nadia’s stomach. It was poetic, wasn’t it? This was where she’d stabbed Kaden, where she’d stabbed the little medium. She gritted her teeth and dug in more, as much as she could. It wasn’t a big knife, sure, but she was a determined gal, and she didn’t give a fuck about Nadia’s pain. Not anymore. Then, Nadia wasn’t pulled out of Nadia’s body. She pushed herself out.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Gimme Gimme Gimme || Otto, Nadia, Dot, Nic, Alain, and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The docks SUMMARY: A deal gone wrong

Otto glanced at his unfamiliar reflection in a broken pane of glass double-checking the glamour runes carved into his collar bones were still functioning correctly. Sunken eyes, a thicker jaw and plain brown eyes looked back at him. Different enough from his day to day appearance that he could pass without someone recognising and the spell would hold for a few hours now that it was in place. Hand-offs were always tricky businesses even more so when you didn’t know the other parties you were involving yourself with so precautions had been taken. Namely in bringing Nadia along as back-up along with a trusty shot-gun. Spells were useful in a pinch but if things went sideways little beat the pure destruction the end of a shotgun could bring about. Unfortunately, tricky business was simply the life of a newfound criminal trying to find their footing in a small town full of strife.

He glanced over at Nadia who carried the delivery in a nondescript brown box padded and covered in protective runes as an extra layer of precaution as they made their way into the boating house on the docks where the arranged trade-off had been arranged. Boats bobbed silently, crusted sea-salt clung to several surfaces and the splosh of water was broken by the occasional bay of a seagull outside. They’d scouted the perimeter already, checking their entrances and exits before heading inside and even then Otto kept to the pillars as cover. He checked his watch and when he spoke his voice was an octave lower, “they should be here soon. Not met this person before…” in other words, he didn’t trust them at all. But then again, you didn’t live in this job if you truly trusted anyone

Adjusting the box to one hand and pulling her hood up a little more, Nadia grinned. This was what she really needed. A good job, the potential for a bit of action, a shotgun on her back, and a revolver at her side. And she was back to being more connected with her body again. She’d been hungry that morning. Hungry. It might’ve been because she’d forgotten that she even had to eat, but it had gnawed at her stomach in the most pleasantly painful way. Even better was that she’d been able to go somewhere and grab herself something without worrying about someone looking for her. Plus, Nadia wasn’t fighting, and she was back to being the one in charge. So she was ready for whatever Otto’s job managed to throw her way. Part of her wanted something easy, a quick drop off, nothing major, maybe a bit of smooth talking if need be. But another part of her wanted some action. She’d be thrilled either way.

As Otto caught her eyes, Nadia gave him a wink. He was a fun guy, from the jobs they’d run together before. Almost as good with his words as she was for a guy who didn’t have a built in lie detector and emotional radar. Plus, his magic was wicked cool. Following him in, she leaned against a pillar and waited. “Cool, cool. Well, don’t worry, as long as they’ve got a pulse, I think I can figure them out.” She could read his distrust like a magazine at the dentist’s office, so she wasn’t feeling quite as blase as she might have seemed. If Otto was worried, she should probably be a bit worried, too. But being a little worried was always healthy. She took out her revolver and opened the chamber, making sure it was loaded. The shotgun was double-barrel, two bullets in. Everything looked good to go.

Everyone had a secret talent. Some people could juggle or burp the alphabet backward. Dot’s secret talent was getting involved in the shadier shit a town had going on. Her other secret talent was being able to do a really fast crab walk. She didn’t like that one as much as she liked getting involved in crime though. She loved that. People would ask her to do jobs and most of the time she didn’t care if she was getting paid or not, though she didn’t tell people that part. She liked the thrill of it. Breaking rules was fun and she liked when she made things inconvenient for other people. She wasn’t a career criminal, not even close, but she never said no to a job. It hadn’t taken long after she moved to White Crest for someone to approach her doing something for them. After doing a couple of jobs, she proved that she wasn’t a complete imbecile and then this job was given to her. It was simple, a hand-off, nothing she hadn’t done before.

Walking to the meeting spot, she was glad that she actually took her gun and knife with her this time. She relied on being a siren far more than she really should. As she saw the two in front of her, she popped her lollipop out of her mouth. Grinning at them, she spoke in a cheerful voice,“Hello, lovelies. Are you here waiting for me?” She might not have been an idiot, but she was never professional. “It’s like we’re all having a little secret party,” She shook her shoulders at them. She considered asking them if they wanted a lollipop, but she only had green apple left and those were her favorite.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Otto lifted his head to eye the newcomer. He didn’t recognise them, but then again he didn’t recognise most people in town on first meetings considering most of them weren’t really memorable enough to truly warrant him paying them all that much attention. But this sort of situation demanded a new sort of attentiveness for a lack of it could cost you so much more if you made the slightest misstep. Yet, that wasn’t the vibe he got from the woman he saw approaching; lollipop and all. It was… intriguing to say the least, her grin was infectious and brought one of Otto’s own about. Cocking his head his eyes sparkled with newfound mischief.

“Seems so darling,” he greeted pushing off the pillar “and it does, doesn’t it? Little rave is just what everyone needs… Let off some steam, have some fun. Shame we don’t have music to set the mood.” He knew Nadia had his back in this, it was one of the few constants he actually trusted in this situation which was saying something, “now as much of a sweet-tooth as I happen to be, I’m curious to see the sweetener to this little party hm?”

Looking at the girl walking towards them, Nadia grinned. Good, a pulse. The other woman’s emotions weren’t nearly as easy to read as Otto’s, but that wasn’t a problem. Nadia only needed a sense of what she was feeling to make sure nothing the wrong sort of shady happened here. Not that there really was a wrong sort of shady. Shady was always fun, even if it went to shit. But, taking in the girl’s appearance, her laid back nature as she had a lollipop of all things in her mouth, Nadia couldn’t help but feel that this was going to be nothing but the good kinds of fun.

“I’m all up for parties,” Nadia said. She jerked her head towards Otto. “This guy throws some of the best, I swear. He might not look like it now, but he’s a fun guy. Isn’t that right, Kelly?” She gave him a wink. She was glad that he trusted her still, even after all that she’d told him. Maybe not completely, maybe not the same way that he had before, but the trust was still there. She could feel it, after all. She hefted the box with their delivery into her arms. “Maybe when all this is said and done, we can actually have a party, to celebrate. Music and everything. And booze. So much booze.”

Maybe she would offer these two her lollipops… They seemed like fun and Dot loved some good fun. She had expected a bunch of people with sticks up their asses who would tell her that she’s too immature to be in this business. The type that took themselves way too seriously. Those people were exhausting at the best of times and she wasn’t doing this to be exhausted. Based on the grins these two had, she liked them so far, but she wasn’t naive enough to forget that this was still a job.

It took quite a bit of self-control to stop herself from beatboxing right there and tell them to dance to the music. Slipping the strap of her bag off her shoulder, she waved it slightly at them. “I think this is the sweetener you’re looking for and that’s what I’m looking for,” She nodded to the box. She liked this part a lot, the anticipation right before a handover. “I know a guy who can get us more than booze,” Dot told the woman, a sparkle in her eyes. Sighing, very dramatically, she continued, “But I guess the job comes first. What was agreed to is in the bag.”

Kaden didn’t know much about the situation at hand, but he knew Nic asked him to be here. That was enough. No matter how weird his relationship was with hunting right now, he wasn’t about to drop his loyalties. If a hunter was in need, one he trusted, he was there. The place by the docks looked sketchy enough, seemed appropriate. “You know what it is we’re looking for, Nic?” he asked, making sure for the fifth time tonight that his gun was loaded properly and ready to go. “Probably a little late to ask for details but if you need all of us here, I’m guessing it’s something big and bad.” He wondered if this was some big monster take down, something like the bounty Montgomery had made a call for a while back. Shit, hadn’t thought about that fucker in a while. The thought of the trophy room sent a shiver down his spine. But he trusted Nic and Alain, despite any differences of ideals they had, would never chop off someone's head and keep it. Which was good enough for him. His brow furrowed as he picked up a sound off in the distance, closer to the boathouses on the docks. Looking in that direction, he saw a small flash of movement and a figure headed into one of them. “Hey,” he whispered, nodding over towards the boathouse. A quick glance back and it was clear where the hunters were headed. Whatever shady shit they were looking for, pretty sure they found it.

While Nicodemus still couldn’t quite wrap his head around what a turn it had been with the Bossman, now known as Roy Chambers, he didn’t question Erin when she told him she might have found a way to figure out what the fuck he was. All he did was agree, make a few calls, then pack up what was necessary before making his way to the agreed upon meeting place. It was gonna be a long night. Shit, it had been awhile since he had worked with one hunter. Let alone a whole gaggle of them. That was just the bounty way. He worked his jaw as he double-checked the edges of the knife he carried. “Reckon it ain’t somethin’ that’s gonna be easy-breezy,” he muttered as he slid it back into its sheath. “But hell, it ain’t ever is.” His fingertips lightly tapped against each other as he cocked his head. Looked toward the same place Kaden had heard the noise. A short nod and a quiet grunt of agreement followed. The calm that settled over him before most hunts began to run its course. “Ain’t no time like the fuckin’ present,” he whispered as he started to move, boots quiet. “We goin’ in quiet or goin’ in loud?”

While Alain was still unsure of why it was that Nic had asked all of them to come here, he was relieved to see that he was not the only clueless one here. It was reassuring to be with familiar faces, and with people he knew he could trust, but some details would have been great. On the one hand, he doubted that she would put them all in mortal danger without warnings, but on the other hand, if the hunter needed back up, this could not be good. “Going in loudly when we have no idea what’s in there, that sounds like a really shitty idea, Nic,” walking beside him, the hunter repressed a yawn. He had managed to get a bit of sleep lately, but he was still having too many nightmares to get rather proper rest. Tired or not, he still would help, because while he never signed up for anything, he had always acted like it was the case. With no idea of what to expect, he had left his sword home and gone for shorter blades, and probably for the best, all things considered.

“Stop yawning, slayer,” Kaden said, giving Alain a small nudge. “Isn’t this your normal hours, anyway? When all the creatures of the night come out and shit?” He was giving the other hunter some grief, sure, but he did kind of hope he wasn’t too exhausted to be here. One mistake on a hunt, especially one like this where the details were sparse and the threat seemingly high, well, that could be deadly. Kaden nodded at the suggestion to keep it quiet as they headed in. There were a few entrances and it was best they split up if they were trying to go for a surprise attack. A few gestures and nods and it was figured out. Kaden creeped up to the side door, listened a moment, and heard voices inside. They seemed occupied. For now. Good enough for him. He did his best to slowly and silently open the door, sneaking through and hiding behind a crate near the entrance. With his pistol in hand, he leaned around the corner to get a better look at what was going on. Three people as far as he could tell. None of them werewolves as far as he knew, either. One guy, didn’t recognize him, two women. The one was also unfamiliar, but the other... Was that… “Nadia?” he found himself saying out loud. Or rather, whoever was in her body. Shit, he didn’t mean to do that. He also didn’t mean to keep walking forward. But he had and he fucking tripped and stumbled over a rope on the ground. Putain. So much for his stealth approach.

They were in the middle of the transaction, the briefcase being opened and the requested black-steel music box embossed with silver images of graeco-figures deifying some strange entity revealed, nestled within a bed of foam to protect it from any harm. “As discussed, acquired and undamaged.” Though not tested, Otto didn’t know what this thing was meant to do but the less he knew the more deniability he had regarding it. Closing the lid once more and clicking it shut the runes engraved across its surface glowed a bright purple before fading from sight once more to prevent anyone untoward tampering with it. “Wonderful, in that case let’s exchange and maybe after this we can all go cele-” but any further remark was cut off, by the sudden intrusion of another voice from a stack of crates nearby. Shit. His eyes cut to the man he didn’t recognise who tripped over the rope in judgemental frustration.

But this stranger’s focus seemed to be on Nadia, recognising her - or recognised the old her most likely. But there were perks to this being the Nadia he’d worked with for so long and on so many occasions. A silent language that a subtle look or expression could convey a thousand messages. So the curious look between Nadia and this stranger and the thin smile that followed spoke volumes. Play him, buy us some time. In the interim, Otto subtly scanned the nearby vicinity for options they could run, but who knew how many more people this dude might’ve brought along. The warehouse might be surrounded.... They had their guns but a firefight was never ideal if it could be avoided.

His eyes passed a few of the boats moored nearby. Maybe if they could rig one up it’d be a decent means of escape… Otto glanced at the other woman unsure if he could trust her or if she’d staged this whole thing. What he did know was he wasn’t going to die because of some fucked over job.

Things were going good. Easy, even. And then Kaden fucking Langley literally tripped his way into the meeting. Nadia pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to maintain her control. But, hey, things were still going well. Just not easy. Well, she didn’t care for easy, anyway. She made sure the box was with the others, and she gave Otto a wink. She knew what to do here. “Heya, Kadie!” she said with a sweet smile, letting it reach her eyes. Nadia Diaz had a great smile. Very charming. Easily disarming. Perfect for getting people to let their guard down, even if they knew they were locking eyes with a rattlesnake. The problem with Kaden was that he knew. He knew what she was, had looked at her and really seen her. He wouldn’t be fooled again. Not for long, at least. But she still had the advantage. He didn’t want to hurt her. Well, actually, he probably wanted to hurt her really, really badly. But he didn’t want to hurt Nadia Diaz. She gave him a wave. “Been a minute, yeah? How’s it going? What are you and your friends doing skulking around the docks at such late hours?” She walked a little closer to him, attempting to block Otto and the other woman to give her partner time to think. She knew the bastard would still be quick on his feet. She just had to play distraction. In a stage whisper, she said, “You know that dangerous people hang around the docks, right?”

For all the things Dot had done, she had never been caught before. Sure, she had gotten in trouble with the cops before, gotten a slap on the wrist for trespassing or some community service for fighting, but this was different. Had he been alone, she would have just gone for her gun, but as Nadia pointed out, he had friends. Her lips pressed as she looked over at Otto, trying to hide the rising panic she felt. She was no professional at this and she knew it. She began to inch towards the door she had come through, bag on her shoulder. The deal wasn’t happening with company. Kaden being here was no good sign. Blanche had liked him, but Dot had never really been around him enough to form an opinion other than ‘fun to make fun of on the internet’. “This is a closed, invite only party,” She chirped, popping her lollipop back in her mouth. “Very exclusive rave you just wandered into and partycrashers are no fun. Unless they’re me, but you’re not me, so no fun,” She rambled around the candy. “So. Shoo.”

Alain had a point and Nicodemus nodded in agreement. “Yup, you got a pretty good fuckin’ point there.” He muttered to Alain as he crouched himself and followed behind Kaden through the door, his own gun drawn and a hand over the knife on his belt. Better to survey the area, get the lay of the land, and--Goddamn it, Kaden. Nicodemus pursed his lips and breathed in sharply. That’s alright, he thought. The rest of them could go around, surprise. And then that was also shot to shit at the word friends. He nodded to himself, resigned. “That’s fine,” he grunted quietly. “Knees gettin’ tired anyway.” The hunter stood and worked his jaw as he walked beside Kaden, pistol resting against his shoulder. He glanced at the briefcase between the three of them. The way it looked, the three of them were all talkers. Time wasters. He sucked at his teeth. “Could save us all some time and fuck off,” he said with a tilt of his head as he took a small step forward. Mediation wasn’t a skill he spent time or money on. “Chattin’ ain’t what we’re here for.”

Alain’s eyebrows raised as he gave Kaden an Italian salute. Of course it was ideal to him for things to be happening at this time of the day, but lately he had had to skip a few cemetery trips in order to rest a little. It would be fine, it had to be fine. Besides, even if he was not at the top of his form, he had to be here for these two hunters. Although that did not mean he would agree with everything they did. Are you fucking kidding me? Breathing out loudly, his eyebrows furrowed as he recognized Nadia. What in the goddamn hell was she doing here? He did not suppose that now would be the time to question her life choices, but from the look on his face, you could get an idea of how disappointed he was. The other two, he did not know, but he was not impressed. “Cute,” he said with a sucking sound of disapproval. Now that their plans of being quiet had gone down the drain, he supposed that the least they could do was not to waste their time trying to have a conversation with these people. “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” he agreed.

Shit. There went the stealth approach once and for all. And it was painfully clear which Nadia he was dealing with. At least he didn’t have to worry about this being some weird hostage situation “Hello Janet,” Kaden replied, using Blanche’s nickname for the ghost with disdain as he stepped out from the shadows, properly this time. He kept his fingers ready on the trigger of his pistol just in case. Nadia was no danger to him, but the ghost, Janet or Cordelia or whoever she was, would kill him without a single remorse. He knew that much. “Funny I could say the same to you. Dangerous and all that. Good thing none of us are out here wandering all alone.” The other hunters had seemingly given up the pretense of stealth as well. He peered around Nadia’s body to get a better look at her cohorts here. “Hey. No one move,” he said, holding his gun up, aimed at the woman trying to make a break for the door in the back. “My invitation is right here so how about you show us what you’ve got there.” Kaden wasn’t sure if these were the calls to be making or what exactly they were here for but if it was to break up something or extract something, it was going to be a lot harder to do if anyone fled. “You wouldn’t want to ditch the party early. We’re just getting started.”

Otto had hoped he could slink away to at least get on board one of the boats, having made it several steps backwards though mindful not to blindly signal his intent or direction with his body language. But as another burlier man stood up behind Kaden holding a pistol he knew this evening was likely very soon going to go to hell in a handbasket. What was it with people and guns? They were so… primitive. But it didn’t change the danger they posed either way. His magic ebbed near to the surface, practically urging him to throw the first shot at these intruders and yet he bided his time. No need to give away his game just yet. He’d purposefully not tapped his reserve at all just in case, always just in case. His leather clad grip tightened on the briefcase handle, shifting it out of the line of sight of these assholes while running through the list of options that were fast running short. Think Nova. One thing they did have in their favour was positioning. These guys were too closely spaced and that tipped the balance in their favour. Maybe if they could carall them some density spells would be enough to immobilise them where they stood. Give them enough time to get the hell out of dodge. The guns were trained on the others for now, that counted for something at least. He took a few more steps, nearing some crates stacked up. Just in case things went sideways, cover never hurt. “Sorry, I was taught better than to hang around and talk to creepy men following me at night. Avidazen.”

“It’s cuter when the kid calls me that,” Nadia said conversationally, one hand on the strap of her shotgun, the other resting near her pistol holster. “Speaking of, let her know I said hey, and I want my gun back.” She pretended to think a bit before she perked back up. “Oh! And tell her next time I won’t fucking miss, ‘kay?” She checked on Otto and the chick that was with them, hoping that the two of them would get out before she had to do anything serious. She took a step towards Kaden as soon as he pulled a gun out. Like second nature, she smoothly pulled her own revolver out and leveled it at him. “Sorry, babe. Put the gun down. I think we both know which of the two of us is more likely to shoot someone, yeah?” Could they not just fucking leave? “Party’s over, folks!” she called out to the people with Kaden. “If you could let us be on our way, that’d be so fucking nice.” She tried to avoid the look of disappointment on… Alain’s (she thought that was Alain’s) face. She needed to stay calm. She needed to keep her cool. She… really fucking wanted to kill Kaden, still. She’d take the shot as soon as they all lowered their guards, and then she was making a break for it.

Bro, Dot was not fucking into this. She was so not into this. “Listen, Kandy, Blanche wouldn’t be happy if you went around shooting her ex girlfriend so like what if you put down the gun and I head out.” Dot loved fights, she really did, but she liked them when guns weren’t drawn. She was pretty out of her fucking depth here. “I don’t want to fight, ‘cause we all who’s gonna win and it ain’t these two,” She nodded toward Otto and Nadia with a shrug. “I mean unless you want me to fight with you guys, would that get me off the hook? I might not be too much help, I’m literally a TA, but I got a gun.That wasn’t a threat to clarify. What do you say Mr. Thickness? Kandy? Tall Napoleon?

Nicodemus wasn’t in the mood. These people talked too fucking much. He sure as shit wasn’t Kandy. Tall Napoleon? Nope. That only left one option. Jesus fucking Christ. He glowered but didn’t move his eyes from the one near the briefcase. He shook his head. “This ain’t a conversation.” His stance shifted and the dirt under his boot crunched. They weren’t going the easy route of just handing off the briefcase, were they? Fine enough. The three hunters had a job to do and they would sure as shit see it through. One way or the other. He spat to the side. His hand tightened around his gun, finger under the trigger guard. A second passed before he took off into a dead sprint. Straight toward the briefcase.

“Blanche? What the fuck does pipsqueak have to do with this? Leave her out of--” Before Kaden could finish, it looked like Nic had the briefcase covered, for now. And he was getting shit started. Great. Fighting was better than talking anyway. “No one leaves til we get what we came here for.” Kaden took a shot at the door, hoping to scare the obnoxious TA lady. Catching Alain’s glance, he gave him a quick nod to her. If he had the TA covered, then that left him free to deal with Janet. He knew Nadia had a gun trained on him and while he had a feeling Nadia would do what she could to save him, bullets fired real fast. He ducked behind a box briefly before taking off towards her. Maybe if he could get there fast enough, disarm her, he could help Nic. If he needed it.

Well shit. Those were the initial thoughts that went through Otto’s mind as Popeye McGee took off in a sprint straight at him. Shoving his hand into his pocket and drawing out a pile of iron filings these were dusted over the briefcase, there was a moment of concentration before an aura of purple seemed to circle the briefcase and seep into its essence with it suddenly becoming heavier in his grip. Backing up towards the dock he extended his arm back fighting against the significantly increased weight “hey now, back the fuck up or I drop it and then nobody gets their due!” With the weight of it now and the water finding it again would be a job for anyone. Not impossible, but more work than whatever this job was worth.

Well those were some crappy nicknames coming from Iago - yes, he had read Othello a while ago - Alain deadpanned as she approached them, probably hoping that she could switch sides like that with no consequences. Considering that she was a skinny woman, and that it didn't take too much to knock someone out (much to most people's surprise), it didn't take much for Alain to get rid of the betrayer and leave her down. Glancing over at the drama queen with the suitcase, the hunter tilted his head to the side and looked over at Kaden to communicate his fed-up-ness with someone, then back at the magician. "You do realize that even if you drop that suitcase, you still have to deal with us next? This doesn't change much for you. Or... Well, it does. It gets things a lot worse."

This was all going to shit. Nadia could see that clearly. Fuck the briefcase, fuck the payment, and fuck that bastard charging at her. It wasn’t particularly smart to run at the woman with a gun trained on you, but Nadia had to give Kaden credit. The guy had balls. Too bad that wasn’t going to save his life. Finger on the trigger, she smiled as he got close and, as she pressed down, gave up control for a brief moment.

Nadia always seemed to be around for the inevitable unhappy ending, and her eyes widened as she watch the bullet from her own gun connect with Kaden’s chest. It was like the cabin all over again. She tried to drop the gun, tried to step forward, but she couldn’t move. She wasn’t really in control at all.

Even though Nadia wanted to gloat, there wasn’t anytime. “Too fucking slow,” she told Kaden before she turned on her heels and started running. “It’s not worth it!” She yelled at Otto, hoping he’d take the hint. They needed to fucking leave.

Kaden was running full out, eyes on Nadia. The gun was drawn, she looked ready to shoot, and Nadia might, but Nadia would never let her. He had to count on that. He had to. He kept running at her. He was sprinting, he almost reached her. Until he didn’t. Something hit him. No. Worse. Something shot him. Putain. Kaden dropped down and screamed out in pain, hand clutching to his chest. Fuck, fuck. Where did it hit? Upper. Near the collarbone. Not heart. Fine. He’d be fine. He hoped. But fuck it hurt. “Fuck off, Janet! I’ll make sure your soul is banished to fucking hell!” He curled up by one of the boxes, hand pressed against the wound, blood spilling out. Aw shit, he saw black at the corners of his vision. He tried to fight it off but he was slipping. He looked around for something to press to the wound, hold it together, so he could hold himself together, too.

The tides were turning fast, one person choked out and a gunshot that echoed across the warehouse with two individuals advancing on his space. Apparently not deterred by the notion of losing the thing they came for. Otto’s eyes slid across to Nadia and then to the pile of cash in the backpack the woman had brought along, with her out cold it was there for the taking. So Otto abruptly dropped the case which hit the ground with a dull thud, shoved his hand out in the direction of the bag and curled his fingers muttering the simple summoning incantation. The bag jerked as if tethered by some unseen force before it arrived in his hand leaving him standing there with the two men making ground fast. His hand shoved once more into his pocket and a scattering of iron filings were tossed out in an arc through which Otto pushed an open palm. The magic radiated in a sudden conical shockwave, reverberating around normal air suddenly growing denser and slowing those that moved through it. Giving him enough time to turn and hightail it after Nadia towards one of the boats. “Unhook the rope! I’ll get the engine!”

Nicodemus breathed in sharply through his nose. If the case went into the water, then the fucker holding it wouldn’t be far behind. He moved with an intensity he hadn’t carried with him before. An intensity that if they didn’t get this fucking job over and done with, there was a lot more to lose. A hell of a lot more. Langley was shot, Alain had knocked someone out, and the two left behind were scrambling. Something slowed his progress and he strained against it, sweat gathering at his temples and the back of his neck. It didn’t matter, he thought, as he continued to brute force through it, muscles and tendons bunched as he worked to push through it. The case had been dropped and as far as he was concerned, he didn’t care if any justice or whatever other asinine bullshit happened. The case was what they came for and it’s what they would leave with. He pushed further, stepped closer. Fuck, he hated magic. Vurals withstanding. Blood gathered between his teeth but it didn’t taste like copper when he managed to get closer to the case. Just a few more steps and his hand would be able to wrap around its handle.

With quick fingers, Nadia untied the rope from the dock, more than anxious to get the hell out of Dodge. But the anxiety, the stress, it wasn’t really hers. She wished she could get rid of it, for good. But at least she had control for the time being. She gave a smirk and waved at the men still left on the docks. Win or lose, it didn’t fucking matter today. She turned around and sank down into one of the boat seats as they drove away, running a hand through her hair and laughing breathlessly. “What a fucking shitshow, huh?” She closed her eyes, not even paying attention to an answer. What a fucking shitshow. She never seemed to get paid enough for these things.