☽ salem is burning

[She had a really relaxing presence. Like… sweet, but not the bubbly sweet of like, Starbucks employees back when there was Starbucks—the kind that kind of makes your head want to explode because they’re too hyper or high pitched. 

No, she’s kinda like honey, slowly pooling out from a bottle, or like… vanilla tea or something. Anyway, she’s soothing, even just in the way she smiles and blushes, and something about her relaxes Lake in ways he isn’t usually. Lake isn’t usually a very CALM kind of person. Like, highs or lows, he’s always wound tight. And maybe he’s a bit like… jittery with her now because of nerves, but it’s still possible to be calm and like, nervous at the same time. Or maybe it’s just been so long since Lake’s been actually calm that this is the closest thing to it for him. 

Either way, it’s nice, and he watches a curled hair slip out from behind her ear as she talks and follows him into the hall of the dorm room. 

He briefly wonders if Ryder’s going to be around, and if running into him would be weird slash awkward. But he doesn’t let go of Chloe’s hand, because he decides he doesn’t care. And Ryder wouldn’t say anything, anyway. Maybe only ask him about it later and pretend not to have a single stake in the subject. God, Lake was friends with tiring people. But he’s tiring, so he supposes it works out well.] 

That’s actually really cool. Like, I mean, it’s nice to have sort of silly things to be hopeful about. People are too serious anyway. And like, I dunno, I kinda think as soon as we stop being able imagine the unimaginable, we’re done for like, as a human race. So hell, Loch Ness it up. Heh. [He smiles at her, and drops his bag next to his bed, kicking it under the bunk.] That’s cool that you wanted to be a marine biologist though. I dunno why, but I wouldn’t have guessed it, necessarily, but I can see you being good like, at Sea World feeding the killer whales and stuff. 

[He’d let go of her hand to drop off his stuff, so he takes it again and starts to lead her from the room.] Um, before? Well, it was kinda boring, I guess. I didn’t even finish high school. Did you? You’re close to my age, right? And um, I was super into comics and stuff. Hung out with my friend Aaron a lot. Sometimes went to soccer games with Dad. I played for a while in high school but I wasn’t that good, really. It was starting to get too competitive for me, and I didn’t exactly fit in the with the jocks so like, it was awkward kinda. I was even more awkward back then than I am now, believe it or not. Hah… But um, that’s why I was in England. Mom got Dad and I tickets to FIFA. We’d only been here a couple days before… yeah. 

[She feels strange, to be in the boys dorm. She’s not really the sort of girl that goes into boys’ dorms, even if it is just to drop something off.

And she wonders, in tandem, if Ryder is going to be somewhere. Because she knows him and Lake are sort of a something, but Chloe wouldn’t know how to describe it because she’s never been good at relationships. It wouldn’t bother her, because she believes that Lake really does like her. He can like Ryder too, if he wants, because his heart is certainly big enough. But she’s met Ryder here and there, and she suspects that he doesn’t like her very much, and might object to this.

There was nothing to worry about, though, because he’s not there. She breathes out, feeling Lake take her hand again, and with it her smile glows a bit brighter.] 

I don’t think you’re awkward. [Chloe looks, wondering why he thinks that. He’s never seemed awkward to her; rather, it seems as though he’s got too many thoughts and feelings to fit inside of him and so they all come spilling over his mouth at once. It’s good.] My sister Julia had tickets to FIFA, too. You must have been close by, I bet. She played football... soccer... not FIFA level, but she was very good, and she was a striker. She tried to teach me to play but I wasn’t very good at it. Julia said that I hesitated too much. Sports are hard, but I liked school. I got put forward a year but I was still only fourteen when D-Day happened. Sometimes... I wish I could have graduated. It’s good that we still get classes here, even if I’m the only one that likes them.

[ Kyra feels an unnerving amount of conviction in this girl. She doesn’t really care about the science shit that goes behind delusions, but the power of the brain to delude itself is fascinating. It reminds her, in a way, of trust; so many people put so much faith into false idols and lies. So much so that there wasn’t any way for them to find a way to the truth. That was what made them easily manipulated - if you could find belief, you could exploit it. ] Then why bother telling me? 

[ The next waxing moon - she snorts. As if she’d be able to tell what the hell that was. Kyra folds her arms over her chest and regards the girl in front of her. She looks vaguely familiar, though it’s difficult for her to place, because the short while she’s been here she hasn’t taken any energy into remembering the faces, names, or habits of anyone around her. This is motivated as much out of bitterness for her situation as it is for her infection. ] 

[ Wait. She’s seen blonde hair during that bullshit the guards called ‘Reflection Hour’. Is this the same blonde? She’s a teenager, and looks less likely to hurt someone as Kyra is likely to go over and give her a big old hug. But she knows better, knows appearances are delusions, just like the one this stranger is saddled with. ] What makes you so dangerous? [ She wonders, out loud, cocking her head to the side. It can’t be curses and voodoo-shit - that just isn’t real. Maybe it’s in her past, like Kyra’s is. She’s loathe to admit she’s a little curious. ]

Just a polite warning. [Chloe shrugs, crooked, and it is unclear whether her intention is actually manners.

Sometimes Chloe is offended when people don’t know who she is. It feels like they ought to, in the same way that they know the shadow of the monster under their bed. And isn’t it just good manners? She knows what makes Kyra so dangerous, after all. She read the news, once, and saw her sharp, clever face on the front page.] 

Sometimes... sometimes I curse people. They used to let me do it, because they thought it was interesting. But now I get in trouble for it, and they say I’m a safety concern. [She pauses, and then adds bitterly:] Now I’m not even allowed in the library without being supervised. Just in case.

[He’s worried, he’ll be honest, because the date has barely started and the silence is already a little bit awkward. 

Actually, it’s not fair to blame the silence. It’s not poor Silence’s fault. It’s his fault. Lake is the awkward one. He always is. But the fact that Chloe hasn’t said anything yet, other than nodded and followed him out the room, is making his palms sweat a little and his heart beat a little too fast and a little too high (it sorta feels like a hummingbird in his throat right now, actually). 

So he’s like, rubbing his hands on his shirt and then clapping them together as if that will give him something to do and distract him from the fact that his tongue feels tied and he doesn’t know what to say that’s remotely impressive and worth saying to a pretty girl like Chloe. And he’s cleared his throat a few too many times, too. 

But suddenly he’s really GRATEFUL that he’s just rubbed his palms onto his t-shirt like an idiot because she’s suddenly TAKING his hand and his heart stops altogether (?????) because she’s slipping her REALLY SOFT fingers through his and she’s saying nice things and what are words and who is he and oh SHIT Lake use your BRAIN.

He looks at her in surprise, and that expression eventually melts into a smile and he eventually has the like, wherewithal to at least squeeze her hand back.] 

I… wow. Hah. That’s super nice of you to say. Um. I really like spending time with you too. You’re like… pretty cool. [he smiles at her, genuinely.] But I guess you probably know that. So um… like, I dunno, tell me something about your life before here? Before D-Day, I mean. Or I guess before the Colony too… how long have you been here again? It’s been a long time, ish, right?

[He’s blabbering already, so it’s a good thing they make it to the Torren common room entrance, because it gives him an excuse to shut the hell up as he swipes his wrist under the Calcard machine and tugs her gently through the door by her hand.] 

[Silence has never been a bad thing for Chloe, never even awkward. Even before, she’d tended towards quietness; she’d not had many friends at school to talk to, and with her sisters, they knew each other well enough that conversation wasn’t always necessary. Looking back, Chloe wondered whether it was some sort of magic bond that they had, something psychic.

And at first she hadn’t realised that Lake did find silence awkward, because such a concept was unfamiliar to her. But she knows him a little better now than she had then, and she realises when he starts rambling that he had been uncomfortable in the quiet. Chloe makes a rule to say more of what she thinks, but only when she’s around Lake.

He’s pulling her into the Torren common room, which she’s never been in before. Curiosity pulls at her, but Chloe keeps her eyes pointed firmly forward so as not to seem rude to the others scattered about, and she wonders how to answer Lake’s question in a timely manner.

Her instinct is to tell him the parts of her life before D-Day she thinks about most-- - being less than her sisters, being lonely. But that’s depressing. And so many of the memories are liquid, like dreams, and they slip through her searching fingertips the more she looks for them. Remembering her rule about not letting silences go on too much, Chloe allows her mouth to muster up words without quite consulting her mind first.] 

A few years, yeah. I was with... a group of others before here, and we stayed in an old farmhouse, but they’re in other Colonies now. Before D-Day... I was going to be a marine biologist, I think. [She blushes at this next memory] I wanted to find Nessie. You know, the Loch Ness Monster. There’s two layers of radioactive sediment underneath Loch Ness, and it has more water than all of the lakes and rivers of England and Wales combined, and I always thought, if there was going to be an ancient water monster anywhere... [She trails off, laughing at herself.] It was silly. I just... really likes whales, and giant squid. What was your life like, before? Why were you in England?

[ That causes his eyebrows to raise in surprise - he hadn’t known that they were confiscating feathers and beads now. It wasn’t in her file ( which made him wonder if it was really anyone with the authority to do so ), but he made a quick note of it. ] Are they, and have they given a reason for doing so?

[ He pauses at the last point - it’s a fair point, and he can’t really argue it. ] And if you are - would you wish to use them to do damage? I can’t help you, if you want to hurt people.

I want to hurt Dervilia. Don’t you?

[Sometimes things are this simple. Not often, not for Chloe, because she thinks and thinks again and overthinks and forgets whether the witch is real, or the girl. But Dervilia is hurting them all. Didn’t he look in the mirror and see a fascist staring back out? Chloe wants to hurt him, even though she tries not to do those things any more., and she thinks that anyone with sense would as well.]

[ A curse? Hardly. If anything’s been cursed, it’s her, not some ribbon. Kyra scoffs, furrowing her brow at the blonde. ] Bullshit. 

[ She’s probably one of the nutty ones. What did the Colony call them? Deluded. It’s a good word - apt. At least, she muses, she’s not like that. At least she’s still got a grasp on humanity, even if it’s become a little too strong for her liking. She pities this girl. Slightly. Not enough to be nice to her. Especially if she’s going to be going off about curses and spells or whatever. ] 

You know what - prove it. [ An idea comes to her - she wants to see this girl try. She wants to see what sort of Baba Yaga hocus-pocus she’ll pull. It’ll hopefully be amusing, a sentiment she’s been lacking almost since she washed up here. ]

Well, I’m not even sure if it is cursed. [Chloe says this in a fair voice, ignoring the challenge in Kyra’s voice. Maybe on other days she could consider being annoyed by it, because nobody ever believes what Chloe can do and sometimes she worries that she’s only a frail spirit that might cease to exist if nobody believed in her. But she realises she might have been rude in the first place, which she hadn’t meant to be. Chloe knew that her mother would want her to be polite, and she tries, usually.] 

But if it is, you would find out during the next waxing moon, I would expect. [It’s her trying to be helpful, if it’s anything. She squints up at the sky, ruminating quietly on its size. She knew a story about the sun being in love with the moon once, she thought.]

[ The deluded are both the easiest and hardest patients to deal with. Some of them will go along with the testing, wanting to find an explanation but the ones that don’t tend to be more complicated to deal with than the non-deluded. He had to find out if their delusions had grown more complex without feeding into it too much, and to convince them to give honest answers wasn’t easy.

He smiles gently at her, trying to ease her obvious annoyance. Ireland needs her to cooperate, he wants to get this done just as much as she does but he also doesn’t want to hurt her. ] We’ll get to that, but I have some questions to ask you first. I need you to answer honestly, okay? [ He wheels two chairs over, taking the physical file from an assistant. ] Now, we should start by taking a seat, this could take a while. 

[ He sat down, keeping his eyes trained on her and kind expression on his face. Without moving a muscle except those in his eyes, he gestured for one of the others to guard the door in case she decided to try and run. ] Any changes you want to tell me about?

[She sort of wants to be dramatic like in the films and tell him she prefers to stand, but actually she is tired from a morning of AP training, and warily lowers her soft figure into the chair. She is still tense, feet rooted firmly to the ground. Just in case.

His smile is open and welcoming, but she won’t fall for it.] 

Changes? Like how they’re taking my things from my room now? If I’m not really a witch then they should know I can’t do any damage with feathers and beads.

[Bobbie has settled on the idea that she won’t be running into anyone from before D-Day in the Colony. Though it’s a sad thought, she knows that she can’t linger on the past when the future is so uncertain. So she’s surprised when she sees the blonde girl, surprised when she recognizes the blonde girl, despite her being older, taller. She looks a bit less sick than Bobbie remembers, though in all fairness, she usually saw the girl when she was drawing blood, checking blood pressure. 

But the recognition, the smile she could feel forming froze in place when the young woman speaks, and she feels her eyebrow lifting, she feels a strange lurch in her stomach, her heartbeat quickening. How can Chloe be dead if Chloe is standing right in front of her. She isn’t sure how to respond, and when she opens her mouth to speak, it feels dry as she decides to play along for the moment, see where this is going.]

Alright… who’re you then? 

[Identity is a harder thing to express. It is easier to think who she is not. She is Not-Chloe, at least not the Chloe Bobbie would remember. But these days, she has rarely considered herself as a solitary identity. She sees tendrils of herself wrapped around the grass, hears her voice in the chiming wind, feels her soft arms in the light of the moon.] 

Witch. But you can still call me Chloe anyway; it is still her body. [She smiles, although it doesn’t entirely reach her eyes, or the corners of her mouth.]

[She’s like a ray of sunshine that spikes through a cloudy day. Like that breath of relief after it rains and you think, oh cool, maybe the day is gonna look up after all. 

When he thinks about it—not just the blonde thing, but her pensive demeanor and the way she’s in touch with things beyond, like, the realm of what most people are in touch with—she does remind him of River and he wonders how much of that went into initially drawing him to her. 

But initial magnetism—that’s where the comparison stops. Because even with River, it was their friendship and their connectedness that had been natural. Had felt almost like the fates had been like here, here’s a boy who needs a friend and maybe someone to make out with sometimes but mostly a friend. And maybe the whole giving her a killer boyfriend thing was part of this ongoing joke the cosmos had about Lake Valentine. It wouldn’t surprise him if he was a part of a large, bet of the universe and the gods. 

Jerks. 

Anyway, with Chloe it’s… different. Everything is different with Chloe. He didn’t get this huge whopping crush on her because she looked hot and suave in a leather jacker and played the guitar. He didn’t want to ‘bang’ her (woah he feels weird even thinking something that shallow around her) because she had great taste in music and wore dark eyeliner that made her look like a rocker-sex-kitten. 

No, with Chloe it was like… going back to high school. It was like passing notes in class and wondering if she’d take your hand in the movie theatre—grinning like a fool when she did. It was like…

He doesn’t know. Just something else. Something like ice-cream cones in summer time. 

AND she’s like, the prettiest girl in the room. Every room, every day, all of the time. He wonders if it’s ever going to bite him in the ass, going after the chicks with like, let’s just say unusual perspectives of the world. 

But Deluded-ness aside, maybe he deserves this. Something this normal and easy when everything else is complicated. When his best friend took his virginity (or rather Lake shoved his virginity into his lap sobbing PLEASE TAKE IT ALREADY) and when he realized his previous biggest crush had at some point become more like a sister to him than anything else. And when new friends were sending mixed signals and you know what, maybe not everything NEEDED answers right away. Fine. Whatever. He’ll like, put up with the whole NOT KNOWING ANYTHING business for now. But for now, he was single, his ‘friends’ were free to do as they pleased and therefore so was he. 

And Chloe made him smile. And made his chest to funny butterfly things. There was no harm in that.]

Uhm—yeah. Yeah totally. [He stands up—a little too fast—and tries not to look like an idiot as he shoves his notebooks in his bag.] Do you want to, um. Like, do you want to stop by the dorms first, and drop off our stuff? I’m staying in uh, Torren right now though. With the whole, Brink Tower being a giant hole in the Colony thing. Heh. 

[When Lake speaks, it makes Chloe think of life and quick-beating hearts; of blushing laughter in her ears. He has a lot to teach her, she thinks, about things that Christina had tried to teach her but had been too young to really understand. Always possessed of a love of learning, Chloe awaits with anticipation: how to find your focus when your eyes are misted by a good morning, and what it means when your heart beats too fast for you to speak.

She nods, setting off toward Torren’s dorms with him. His voice is a salve to her anxious spirit; which is strange, because he always sounds so alive, so burning with energy. Usually Chloe is soothed by the quiet rhapsody of ocean over sand, and the ticking of the stars. She even sort of wants to tell him this, because it seems important in a way she cannot describe.

An unusual burst of fear overtakes her though, and she’s not sure if she can. It seems like a stupid thing to be nervous about, because she is a witch. She is the monster in the forest, she is the thing that goes bump in the night. Stupid. And she isn’t even scared of Lake, which at least would be tangible. She’s scared of the fact that being near him makes her touch her hair in nervousness; makes her stumble over her words. Makes her happy, actually, which she’s not really felt in a while. The magic has had her for so long, and it didn’t leave room for much emotion. It was a cold, planetary thing.

So really it is stubbornness when she slips her hand into his, quick and sure as a robin to its nest.] I really like spending time with you, Lake. [She says this with confidence, because it’s an absolute. And actually, for all the anxiety coiled up in her stomach, she felt a lot better for having told him.]