they key to all heaven is mine.

Get to know me uncomfortably well.

6. What's your lucky number?

“They say the third time’s the charm, and I’m inclined to believe them.”

7. Do you have any pets?

“Well, there’s Pom-Pom, but...she’s more my father’s than mine.  And I’m happy to let it stay that way.  We’ve never really gotten along.”

8. Where are you from?

“Ulstead, born and raised.”

9. How tall are you?

“Just shy of six foot.”

10. What shoe size are you?

“11, apparently.”

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

“More than is really necessary.  But since relocating to California, I only brought a few pairs with me and that suits me fine.”

12. What was your last dream about?

“I can barely remember the context anymore, but I think I was walking through sand.  My legs ached and it was very difficult to move.  Then as I fell head first into the sand, I woke up.”

Halloween hadn’t always been such a drag for Ophelia. She used to have fun taking Teddy and Florrie around, letting them show off their costumes, but she had to admit, as they were getting older, she felt more and more insignificant to them, especially at something like a carnival. Turning toward the person next to her, she sighs, pushing over the cider she just ordered. “Do you want this? All of the sudden, I’m not in a celebrating mood.”

“You sure?” Florrie asked, even as she grabbed the cup and took a sip.  (What?  Sibling backwash didn’t count and she needed to wash down her popcorn ball.)  “C’mon, Fee.  What’s going on?  Every time I look at you tonight, you’ve got this big, fat frown on your face.”  She pulled a pouty, exaggerated frown of her own to prove her point.

Andi swung her bat behind her head as she walked alongside the red head. There was a soft smile present on her features as she looked over at Florrie. Normally, Andi would have braved the house by herself of for percy or circe to accompany her but since dating nina she began branching out more. her girlfriend made her more personable. 

“Awesome. Say no more, let’s get you one. You deserve all the caramel apples for getting through that sad excuse for a haunted house. Badass costume by the way. Pirates are fucking cool.”

Florrie stifled another laugh.  The girl clearly had standards when it came to these things.  “Okay, I’ll admit.  Not the best.  But they tried!  I liked it!  It was better than a stick in the eye.”  At the compliment, she swung her prop sword out a little farther with her next step.  “Aw, thanks!  Yours, too.  Harley’s always a classic, and you work it.  I don’t think I could pull it off.”

Davu smirked. Something told him that this girl didn’t often go to the type of parties he did, but he considered that maybe - just maybe - that would make it all the more fun. It was always the most entertaining when someone seemingly out of place showed up, unsuspecting of how crazy such events could get. “I don’t know, princess. You think you’re up for it?”

Florrie shifted her weight and crossed her arms, but with a smile still on her face.  “I’m always up for anything.  And you can take that to the bank.”  The easiest way to get her to do something was to act like she couldn’t.  That had been a proven rule of Florrie for years.  Besides, it was just a party.  What’s the absolute worst that could happen?  She had a hunch the boy was just messing with her for the sake of it.

Delaney relaxed but couldn’t believe she just floated for a second, “Oh yeah very good for a lot of things.” She giggled a bit nodding, “I prefer a backpack much better for…well your back.” Sighing a bit she smiled, “I miss camping it has been such a long time since I’ve gone and done that.”

“Ugh, I love camping so much.  I’d go do it, like, every weekend if I could.  And there’s so many good spots and hiking trails around here, when you get up in the hills, you know?  Would you believe I actually saw a bear one time?  Like, not close enough to be in danger or anything.  He was way off and he never saw me.  Or she.  Or whatever bears identify as.  Either way, it was such a cool moment.”  She chuckled in spite of herself.  “I’m Florrie, by the way.  It’s probably better to introduce myself before launching into unrelated bear stories.”

-

“Huh?” Amalthea mumbled, zoning back into the real word. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn’t even noticed someone else had joined her. She smiled when she realized who it was, Teddy’s sister, and began to relax as she welcomed the distraction from her own thoughts. “–Oh Florence hey! –I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.. what did you sa–” her words trailed off when she saw the small pile of cheese and her eyes widened. “Woah! Where did you get those?”

Florrie’s nose wrinkled just a little bit at the use of her full name.  Though it wasn’t that bad - it just felt so grandiose.  “What, these?” she asked, nodding to her plate.  “Yeah, there’s a whole table over there.  Cheese, crackers, some giardiniera-looking stuff.  And some wine.  For those what drink it.   And some dodgy-looking homemade fruit punch.  I’d steer clear if I were you.”  She held up her plate a little higher.  “Wanna share?”

Delaney turned bright red, “Oh my gosh I am so sorry!” In her flustered state the girl floated off the ground for a few seconds before hearing the other ask about her bag. Coming back to the ground she smiled, “Oh this? I believe I found it at a thrift shop in town. Or did I get this somewhere else?” She paused to think.

Florrie blinked a little when she thought she saw the other girl jump up...and just not come back down for a second.  But it must have been a trick of the light.  Maybe she was just hungry.

“No, it’s okay!  Seriously!  Nobody’s hurt.  You’re good,” she assured, raising a hand and kind of pawing it into the air.  “It looks like it’d be good for camping and traveling and stuff.  I’ve been thinking about getting a big one like that.  I mean, I have my backpack.  But that’s a little small for big trips.  And it’s getting kinda sad as is.”

“Wow yeah you’re totally terrifying. I’m absolutely scared shitless right now. Good job, my guy.” Andi said, the sarcasm in her voice laid on thick as she left the House of Horror completely unphased. “I thought this was supposed to be scary. I’ve seen scarier shit come out of my shower drain.” she said. “Hey, you want a caramel apple? I might as well make up for bringing you here with something good.”

Florrie straightened the pirate sash on her head, laughing rather than quaking in her boots like the haunted house performers probably wanted her to be.  Whether it was from the house itself or Andi’s complete lack of reaction was unclear - probably a bit of both.

“No, it was fun, really!  But I have been craving a caramel apple for weeks now, so I won’t turn down the offer.”

“Okay, I don’t know if that bleeding is meant to be a fashion statement or what, but I have some band aids if you need them. Which you clearly do.”

“Hm?  Oh, shit.”  Florrie jumped when she noticed the scratch and the long trail of blood running down her arm.  No telling how it happened.  Maybe on her hike that morning, one of the branches snagged her?  But that was hours ago - it would have gotten all over her clothes by now.  Oh, well.  She was always getting into something or another.  Even still, she chuckled.  “Yeah, I’ll gladly take a couple.  Thanks.”

Amalthea stood in the corner of the make shift gallery, the Fall Auction where students present a piece of art to be auctioned off for charity, standing away from the crowds and holding a flute of some kind of sparkling apple juice she felt sick. The room was bustling with new talent and excitement and yet all she could bring herself to think about was how people would react to her piece. Three crowns linked together in a bed of delicate flowers, representing her sisters, friendship, love, power and weakness. Having walked around the room just once she cringed at her own work, wishing she could be more original and inspiring instead of predictable. 

“There’s too much green…” she mumbled quietly, seeing her piece in the distance. “Green doesn’t mean anything… oh gods what have I done…”

Despite her dexterous fingers from practicing her music, Florrie’s skills in the visual arts were a little lacking.  So she was very impressed by those who could actually do it.  Sneakers occasionally squeaking against the floor, she slowly bobbed and weaved throughout the exhibit, munching on a small mound of cheese cubes she’d liberated from the refreshment table.

“Wow, look at the detail on this one,” she sighed to the girl next to her.  “How do they do that?  The lines are so tiny.”

Delaney had just come from dance practice, her dance clothes and dance bag strapped around one of her shoulders. Stopping at the water fountain to fill up her water bottle. Once it was full she turned around a little too quickly and almost spilled it on someone. “Oh no! I’m so sorry are you alright? I didn’t get any on you did I?”

“Whoa--!”  Florrie felt the droplets of cold water across her jumper before she saw them.  She wiggled the material across her chest to aerate it.  “It’s fine!  It’s fine.  Just water.  Look, you can barely see it.  No, I was just curious where you got that bag.  It’s really nice.”

Davu Santucci liked to keep things a little old school. While most people would announce a party on social media, he walked around with a pile of flyers - offering one to anyone who passed. “It’s ‘bouta be lit. Bring your friends!” But when someone crossed his path directly like a black cat on Halloween, he held the pile close to his chest and arched a brow. “Not you, though.”

“Rude!” Florrie scoffed, yet smiling still.  She weakly pawed for one of the flyers clutched against him. “Didn’t know parties had to be exclusive to be considered ‘lit.’  What, you think the princess is gonna be a buzzkill or something?”

Wendy Darling loved routine. Every Saturday she would get up in the morning, take a shower, bring a book to her favorite coffee shop, and order a chai with two sugars and a splash of cream. She sat in the very back corner where she could clearly see the room, often filled with the same people, and shamelessly people watch as she enjoyed her tea.

What was fun, however, was watching as people became more of a reoccurring character in her story. One person, for example, started showing up to this very coffee shop every week for the past month, just after Wendy would settle in. 

“I think I might see you more consistently than I see my friends,” she joked, figuring that it might be best to strike up a conversation with the stranger if there was any type of chance that she was going to keep seeing them like this. “Are you a regular, too?”

Weeks turned into months before Kit realized what happened, and he did find himself settling into a new normal.  Waking up just before dawn, a cold bottle of water and early stint at the gym, followed by breakfast and tea.  He thought he would be harder to break - he had to be, since his brothers were adjusting to the change so easily.  (Well, Philip was adjusting easily, at least.  It was still hard to tell with Florian, since his sense of “normal” was so different from theirs, regardless.)  And yet, here he was.

Though none of this really solidified for him until the friendly girl in the coffee shop pointed all this out.

“I’m afraid I might be,” he chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor behind it.  His fingers flexed around his warm cup of green tea.  “At least I can say it’s not because of a caffeine addiction.”