hometown glory.

“Yep, that’s all that I think has happened in the past two years.” Poppy just shrugged it off like it was nothing once more, mostly because she’d already broke down over it time and time again, she was finally starting to heal from most of it, despite the fact that Silas loomed over them like a dark storm cloud. A part of her even chuckled at needing a whole damn catalog. “I told you, it would have been a lot of post cards and let’s be real we weren’t really on a post card basis.” Gesturing between them before she stopped and looked at him with a smirk. “Unless things have changed and you forgot to send a post card updating me on that tidbit. I mean I’ve been back for a while. 

Adverting his gaze as he looked her over, she wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for anymore when it came to her, but a part of her was scared. Scared that he’d find a flaw in her ‘I don’t care about anything’ attitude that she’d been putting on for the better part of the last year. At the mention of coming back she shifted uncomfortably, she remembered the part of the post card she’d left out. Feeling the lights flash over her face as he continued on with the questions, she just stood there frozen for a long moment. “The price was Alyssa!” She practically screamed, only to cover her mouth quickly as people turned around. Trying her best to reassure them that nothing was going on, she turned to look at Elias. Taking him by the arm as she moved out of line and off to the side so they could have some privacy. “Since Jasmine was in the coven, the price as it always is for resurrection, a life for life. So Alyssa died in my place.” Even after all this time she still couldn’t call her mom, even though she’d died a martyer, it couldn’t ease everything she’d done in the past. Flashing back to Alyssa begging to be turned or helped while they all just stood around doing nothing. “I could see everything when I was dead.” She added as she tried to answer his questions. “Jasmine talked to me since I was on the other side of the veil and well, I agreed to come back.” Realizing she still had a hand on his arm, she moved it back to her side of the invisible line between them. “You’re right nothing is free when it comes to magic.” Rubbing her arms as she shifted awkwardly, she forgot how painful this all really was. “Do you have any other questions about my death?” Asking softly, she held onto the railing closet to them for stability. Taking in a sharp breath as her hands gripped onto the cool metal. “I know you just have questions and I’m not mad at you.” She promised. 

Hearing him mutter something and she turned to look at him with familiar blue eyes. “What?” 

When he leaned in she stayed put, she wasn’t sure what to expect until he started to talk once more. “It’s really hard to top all of that so I don’t blame you.” Slipping back into a teasing nature for a second. “Oh really? I mean it is hard to compete with all of that anyways.” Rolling her eyes with a smile still on her face. “Well—“ Pressing her lips together as she stayed quiet for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.” Finally choking out after a long moment. “You look good.” Adding as her eyes did a quick once over, she hated to admit it but he did look good. “So, want to continue this conversation on the Ferris wheel?” Asking as she gestured to their spots that were still open in line and coming up. “I mean you already kind of have my last couple years, but I would like to hear what you’ve been up too and what you’re doing now?” Pulling out the tickets from her back pocket as she held out one to him almost as a peace offering. “What do you say? Just one ride with me.”

He scrubbed a palm over the back of his neck, trying to shake the image she’d painted — a life for a life. “Poppy…” he started, but the words dried up. What do you even say to that? I’m sorry felt obscene. I didn’t know felt useless.

Her hand slipped off his arm and he almost reached for it again, almost, but she was already hugging herself like armor. He looked away, jaw tight, and made himself breathe. “I wasn’t trying to—” he gestured vaguely, a brittle half-smile tugging at his mouth, “—rip it open. I just… needed to know if you were really standing here. Alive.”

The edge in his voice was gone now, replaced by something lower, steadier. “And for what it’s worth, I’m not mad either.” His eyes flicked to hers then, blue to blue, holding for a beat longer than he meant.

When she said I’m glad you’re here and you look good, his mouth quirked in something that was almost a laugh. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell a guy you haven't seen in a few years. Careful now, I might think you still care.” he said softly, but it came out warm instead of sarcastic.

At the Ferris wheel offer he glanced back toward the line, then to the ticket in her hand. The carnival lights strobed across his face again, softening the hollows under his eyes. “One ride, huh?” He reached out, taking the ticket from her fingers — not snatching, just a slow, deliberate touch that brushed her skin. “Alright. One ride. For old time's sake.”

He tucked the ticket into his jacket pocket and nodded toward the slowly turning wheel. “I really don't have much to tell,” he said quietly, “Nothing I'm proud of.”

He started walking back toward the line with her, slower this time, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “But I'll answer any questions you have. Just like you said to me. Deal?”

“I’ll warn you now: I don’t sing, and if you make me dance we’re both going to regret it. But I can tell stories, and I’m hellishly good at keeping a straight face when you try to lie about something.” His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “So. What’ll it be?”

While it seemed whatever had created the chaos had now dissipated, it had left behind quite the mess. Astrid had spent most of the morning settling things down on the ranch, re-convincing her animals that she was not a threat. About midday she ventured back into town, cussing under her breath at the carnage littering the streets. Pulling over, the blonde stepped out of the old pickup, shaking her head as she surveyed the damage. "What a fucking disaster."

He turned, squinting against the glare, then huffed out a sound that might’ve been a laugh if it wasn’t so dry. He wiped the back of his glove across his forehead, leaving a smear of ash.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, rough from shouting orders all morning. “That’s the polite version.”

His gaze slid back to the stranger’s truck, then to her. “You here to help,” he asked, not unkindly, “or just doing the drive-by commentary?”

"It hurts. It hurts, man. I don't know. I don't know what's happening. I can't...This isn't how it works...." His features were grave, and his gaze were distant as the overwhelming sensations threatened to overcome him completely.

At last, the wolf released his fingers. "Something's wrong. I have to. I have to find the others..." He stuck out his hand, willed himself to shift, to call out to the pack bond. But his body did not respond. "I can't transform. I can't fucking transform, man. What the hell is going on?"

He took a step back, not out of fear but out of instinct, like giving JC space might stop the crackling chaos crawling off him. His own magic twitched at the edges, answering the wolf’s panic with another gust that rattled the tarps strung above them.

“Easy,” he said, though his voice wasn’t half as steady as he wanted it to be, and he wasn't sure which of them he was trying to reassure. His eyes cut over JC like he was trying to make sense of a puzzle with half the pieces missing. “You’re saying you can’t shift? I don't know a lot, but I know enough to know that doesn’t just… stop. That’s not how it works. What did you feel right before this happened?”

JC’s ragged words hit something in him, that old itch of dread he tried not to feed. Elias ran a hand down his face, frustration written in the taut line of his shoulders. He stepped closer again, lowering his tone, almost coaxing. “Listen to me. You’re still here. You’re still breathing. Whatever this is, you’re not alone in it, alright? But you’ve got to hold it together long enough for us to figure out why the rules just got rewritten.”

"Oh shoot," Sav bit down on her bottom lip as she squeezed her eyes shut just as the siren was hit by a blast of wind. Between the rain that she could feel coming down even harder around her to her glowing eyes, it took her a moment to discern in the wind was her own doing with the storm she had created even more up or someone else's, but when she turned around to see the man before her in a similar boat, she wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or concerned that things were about to get a whole worse. "Are you doin' this or am I?" She called over to him, a light laugh bubbled out of her lips as she tried to stay calm, but couldn't seem to shake her utter disbelief about their whole newfound situation.

A voice carried through the gale, and he barked back sharper than he meant to: “Do you think I’d be standing here if I could stop this?” His own words hit him a half-second later, bitter and too loud. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing a breath into lungs that didn’t want to cooperate.

“Sorry,” he ground out, softer now, fighting to steady his voice against the roar of the storm. “I'm sorry, I am. I just—” The sentence broke on itself. His hands dropped a fraction, shoulders tight as if bracing for a blow. “It’s the losing control part. That’s… not something I do well.”

The wind howled around them, tugging at his clothes, sparking against his skin like static. He risked a glance at her, blue eyes sharp with panic he couldn’t fully disguise. “If this keeps up, someone’s going to get hurt. And I don’t know if it’ll be me or—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “I don’t know how to shut it off, I don't know what to do.”

Fireworks exploded above like it was a holiday, but it wasn't. Music rattled speakers that shook the ground. Ren felt the vibrations of which across his body, as he road the rail for the entirety of the night's final set. He was having a great time. Nothing had gone wrong yet. The witch even managed to take his mid day nap and demolish a sizable score from the concession stands. As far as he knew all the witches were getting along, too. Then something hit him sideways, but it wasn't the questionable amounts of dairy he'd consumed forming a knot in his stomach. The crowd's entire energy shifted, and he watched the beginning of chaos start. Immediately Ren reached for his phone from his pocket to call Poppy, but he fumbled with the device just as his own magic glitched. His spot on the rail now empty, save his phone, as Ren was ripped through space.

Quickly, despite his best efforts, Ren realized he had no control of where he went or for how long. Magic shot him across the festival in varying intervals, allowing him to witness the calamity at large. Water, fire, wind, and electricity whipped across the landscape. A storm raging above the entire affair. The dead intermingled among half shifted werewolves, deranged vampires, and a slew of foreign faces that had stumbled through portals. Hunters, armed and ready, accompanied them, yet Ren was practically helpless. Every time he stopped long enough to catch his breathe he would shout a warning about the impending dangers. "Hunters! Portals! Fire! Flooding!" Accompanied by the loud exclaiming of names when he recognized a familiar face. Coven and counsel members, family, friends and neighbors, too. He did what he could with the mere moments he was given to help.

Then came the storm. Water where there shouldn’t be, fire lashing too high, the sky itself cracking open. Elias’s instincts screamed the same way they did in a burning building: move, assess, protect. The air was too thick, too wild, but his focus narrowed in. People were going to die if somebody didn’t start making order out of this chaos. Even if he wasn't sure he was entirely prepared, or if that would even be welcome from him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had to try something.

That was when he saw Ren — appearing out of nowhere, eyes wide, shouting warnings before his body blinked, snatched away by magic Elias didn’t understand. Then he reappeared again, closer this time, panic written all over him.

“Ren?” Elias barked, incredulous, eyes snapping to the witch. “What the hell’s happening to you? What’s going on?” The words came sharp, cutting through the noise, but they barely landed before Ren’s form fractured again, ripped out of sight like a faulty flare.

“Jesus Christ,” Elias muttered, scanning for where he’d land next. People were scattering, powers unraveling in every direction, and all he could do was try not to panic.

Besides the whole burning of the Halloween pumpkin Poppy had been living for Covechella. She’d been able to just relax and let loose without any judgment since everyone was doing the same. Shaking her blonde hair that was filled with glitter out as a little boy came up to her in line. He had been asking about where he could see the best spot for the next performer. While she typically didn’t offer guidance she was in a good mood from earlier still, so she helped. 

Hearing a voice from behind her and she turned on her heels as she spoke. “Please I’m all about giving directions and orders.” She replied with a hint of flirting in her voice, until she saw who was behind the comment. Elias. It was like a ton of bricks hit her in the stomach and stole her air.

She had a million questions like when did he get back? How long was he here for? And etc etc. Before she could ask any questions he had started to speak again. Mentioning her resurrection, which she constantly went out of the way to try and forget. Nothing helped the sting of reality though, the fact that she’d live out this life morality, with no back up plan to turn anymore. “Not really something that I advertise.” It had caused discourse in the coven with older members and the ancestors that were always in her head. God were they angry at her for coming back, but what was she suppose to do? Stay dead? Leave without any kind of legacy. “Did you want to know I broke the resurrected bond from my half sister Jasmine too?” Asking as she raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Oh yeah by the way I have a half sister on my dad’s side. Also turns out he’s like a super villain cult leader, who may or may not be dead. Guess we’ll see if he shows back up.” Poppy continued on with a shrug. 

“So did you want me to put all that on a postcard or multiple post cards cause that’s kinda a lot.” Saying with a hint of bitterness in her words. “Also not like you sent any postcards either there buddy.” Poking him lightly in the chest. “Should I ask what’s up with you? Or don’t think you can top the whole resurrected, half sister, and super villain dad thing I got going on?”

“Resurrection. Half-sisters. Cult-dad.” He let out a low whistle, folding his arms across his chest as if bracing himself. “That’s… one hell of a family newsletter.” His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Guess I shouldn’t complain about not getting a postcard; you’d need a whole damn catalog.”

For a second, he studied her, eyes searching for the girl he remembered under the glitter and bravado. Then his voice dropped, edged but insistent. “So how, Poppy? Not the headline version. Not the shrug. How does someone actually come back? Did someone drag you out? Did you make a deal? Or is that what you meant about breaking the bond with your sister — was that the cost?” His mouth tightened. “Because last I checked, there are no freebies. Someone always pays. I know I was never super involved in the coven, but I know enough to know that.”

His hand twitched at his side, like it wanted to reach for hers, to prove she was really standing there. Instead, he dragged it over his face, rough, forcing the impulse back. The edge in his voice slipped for half a second. “And why do I even care this much?” he muttered, almost too low to hear.

He shifted his weight, leaning in just enough for the words to be meant for her alone. “I don’t think I can top ‘resurrected, half-sister, and cult-leader dad.’ But I’m not here to compete with you, Poppy.” The sardonic twist at his mouth faltered into something quieter, more reluctant. “I’m just… here. I don't even really know why. Guess I just felt like I should be.”

While he had not been the current Alpha for very long, the role was, of course, one Júlio César had held twice. His ability to take on the pain of other wolves was not alien to him. Recently enough, he had offered it to help ease some of their newer members through their second or third shift. Against his better judgement, he had taken on a thorn or a bramble once he had decided that lessons against reckless wandering had been learned. But it had not been like this.

Pain coursed through him now, a burning sensation rushing up his forearm from jostling shoulders with someone who had brushed too close to an open flame. Each bump in the mounting panic rattled him, as if he were feeling all who jostled him both for himself and on their behalf.

A hand shot out, gripping for someone, anyone. JC cried out when another sharp dagger shot through him. "Ah...Ah! I can't..." He muttered distantly, in something of a daze. "Hurt? Are you hurt?"

“Whoa, did you really miss me that much?” Elias muttered, voice caught somewhere between sarcasm and genuine worry. “You—” He stopped, catching the wild look in JC’s eyes, the way he clutched at his arm like it was burning from the inside.

For a beat, the years peeled away. And they were just two kids who ran drills on the soccer field until their lungs gave out. Elias softened. “Hey,” he said, lowering his tone, “what can I do for you?”

Option A: Silent Disco

"Huh?" Savannah near hollered, her drawl carrying louder than she realized over the thumping beat pounding through her headphones. She tugged one side down, blinking at whoever was trying to get her attention. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear a blessed thing you were sayin'. Might as well have been whisperin’ to a brick wall with all this racket goin’ on in my ears,” She gave a helpless shrug.

Option B: Highlighter Party & Emotion Potions

"Hey, you," Kiraz playfully gave the friendly face beside her's ass a playful slap. Her hand had been covered in bright red paint that was sure to leave a mark on the other's all white outfit, but that was half the fun of a highlighter party, wasn't it? "Here," She handed them a shot of some unmarked emotion she had nabbed on her way over to the Eclipse party, before downing back her own. "Bottom's up."

Option C: Hot Air Balloon

"What the fuc-" Seo-Joon cussed out as a sudden blast of wind sent him knocking out of the hot air balloon onto the ground. He had only agreed to take a hot air balloon ride because his sister had seemed like she had really wanted to, but before their basket had even lifted up off the ground, some air witch had other plans. A groan broke from his lips as he lied there watching as what looked like Nico's wife darted away. "Damn witches," He swore once more under his breath. "Mind giving me a hand?"

Elias feigned hurt feelings, a hand pressed to his chest as he stifled laughter. "Well, that wasn't very nice." He paused, a grin all but forcing its way onto his lips. "We aren't that bad, but... that was a little funny." He extended a hand, expression softening into something a little more sympathetic. "No, seriously, are you okay? You don't look wounded anywhere that I can see. Can't do much for a bruised ego, but I do know some basic first aid if ya need it."

option a - day two, highlighter party and emotion potions (tw drugs)

She threw back the potion, ready for whatever ride it took her on, she wanted to make bad decisions, reckless decisions. She wanted to succumb to the magic in the drinks and forget everything that was pounding in her brain and made her eyes burn if she thought about it. Grabbing another, despite it being a bad idea, she offered one to the person next to her. "You should take this, and then you should dance with me." She instructed, not posing it as a question and giving the person a once over, almost challenging.

option b - day two, shots and giggles

"Come on, it's a dollar off for each shot, and I need a wingman to help me out. Will you me my wingman?" She asked, maintaining a straight face for an impressive amount of time considering this was not her first drink of the day. "I'll even share my winnings with you." She offered the friendly face, backing towards the Starlight Bar booth and cocking a figure at them, willing them to follow.

option c - day three, slip and slide

She was already sopping wet, her clothes clinging to her in a way that would make a nun blush, but she didn’t care, giddy on drinks and embracing reckless abandon. Turning to the person next to her she offered a smirk. “Loser shouts the next round.” Without waiting for an answer, she took off in a run before taking a dive and heading down the slip and slide.

Elias eyed his counterpart warily, brows pinching together in the middle as he surveyed the brunette. She wasn't outright stumbling, but she was by no means stable on her feet. "Well, I don't drink," he started. Anymore. "But I can definitely cheer you on and make sure you don't, uh, overindulge. I am an irritatingly good wingman in that regard."