I Know That You Notice My Ways

Roman sighed, “Right. Well there goes that,” he managed a half smile, but he met the woman’s gaze after a moment. He knew he’d brought up the serious topic, but he couldn’t help but consistently be concerned. “Their energy is…fading. It’s not like they don’t have a soul, you know, like with a cubi, but they’re just…dying.”

-

He’s spoken her fears into existence and Jazz looks from him to the quiet shop around them. It’s not something she really wants to discuss with a stranger, but what choice does she have at this point? Besides, she has been keeping the plants on the counter perky whenever she comes in. There’s a common thread between them for that kind of thing, she thinks. And therefore she can convince herself that they’re already kind of friends. “Do you have a moment to talk about it? I’m trying to help them. And we could use all the help we can get.”

“Okay so the plan’s kind of half ass,” Miri admitted, carding a hand through her long curls. They were disrupted and messy when they fell back down her back and she offered Jazz a sheepish expression. “The library has to have something there, I was talking to my friend— he used to be a witch and now he’s a fury, he told me to start looking there for information.”  The water witch was pacing, “I really fucking hate doing research, but there’s got to be something there that we don’t know: something that he hasn’t told me about that we can use.” Her brows knit, “Actually, it sort of seemed like he couldn’t tell me about it, which was even more messed up but I don’t know much about being a fury.” A sigh left her and she ceased her pacing, “I don’t know much about anything at all.”

A witch who used to be a fury who would help someone from the coven. “Atlas.” Jazz offers, just the sound of the name on her lips makes her smile a little. He’s truly looking out for all of them at all times. “He’s helped me, too. He’s the one who pointed me in your direction.” But why would he omit something if it would help them? That wasn’t a question for Miri, she gives the slightest shake of her head and then she’s peeking past the other witch into the dark towards the way she came, towards the house. “I don’t know if I want to be seen there, in the house. A new person might just be a target.” And yet, she still needed to speak with Anastasia, even if she was worried she’d maybe lost her marbles. “But if you need me to just sit and read somewhere, I’ll do it. Do you think they suspect anything?”

“With time,” Markus offered before he finished with the dropper and set it aside. He stroked the temperamental creature a few times before he placed it in his cage once more. “and rest.” Though he said this less to Jazz and almost more pointedly towards the raven in question. “Ravens are the only creature with the ability to communicate facial characteristics across generations.” Markus explained, “So, you befriend one and it’s great-grandchild will know you’re a friend without ever having met you.” Same could be said if one was crossed. It was one of the many reasons why he was so fond of the birds. They were petty.

-

“I’ve heard about that. I’d see them all the time around the cemeteries in New Orleans.” High on the wrought iron fences, perched on stone angels. They were omens after all, it’d always unnerved her just a little. But she’d seen weirder down there in the swamps, alligators and decaying plants and animals being consumed by nature. It was something she used to think about, how the ground could seem to just swallow a body up. Jazz’s eyes go from the crow to Markus and it’s...Sort of cute? The way the large man seems to regard the animal. “Did you find him or did he find you?”

Roman looked at the little plant, letting out a sigh, “I think if you could tell me who was dumping coffee into it, I could make it survive longer.” The witch frowned a little more, looking at the other witch once more, “I’ve seen you around the coven – did you know they’re all sick?” He’d hijacked the conversation without a second thought, more worried than anything else.

-

Snitching wasn’t something she was willing to do, but she had faith in her fellow plant witch to be able to figure it out on his own. Jazz gives a shrug of her shoulders, raises her hands a little as if to indicate she didn’t know and then her playfulness dissipates at the mention of the Vidalis kids. He looks worried and she can’t blame him, that’s been the vibe for everyone since Anastasia woke up it would seem. “I’m close with a few of them. I’ve noticed Miri in particular getting…” The coughing, Ade’s nose bleed the last time she’d been in the shop. “They’re getting worse.”

The last thing he had expected was to have a conversation about the Vidalis when they had kind of sort of decided on a date. Neither of them had called it such, but that was what Jerrik thought it was. That was what people thought of it as when two people went out and spent time with each other. And there was some sort of like between them. However, he knew that Anastasia Vidalis was on Jazz’s mind. That was his excuse for giving her his number the last time they had spoken. He wondered what was really going on there. Maybe she would tell him tonight. “I just know the basics, I guess. I’m more in tune with a different coven. The Häljesta. It definitely doesn’t run the same as the Vidalis, that much I know.” He leaned forward on the table towards her. “You look slightly perplexed about something. Are you okay?”

She puts a pin in that, the coven he has association with was of interest to her. But her thoughts had been on a single track for what felt like weeks. His question causes her to actually let out a soft laugh, give a shake of her head that has her hair curtain around her face a bit. Jazz looks across at him and this had been meant to be an occasion to get out of her head for a moment. His presence was soothing, again she noted the eyes, she thinks that’s a big part of it. She looks to his face, to those eyes and she doesn’t want to bring him into it, not without permission. “No, no I don’t think I am. There’s a lot going on, it’s um, it all feels a lot bigger than me.”

Miri rubbed at her features, groaning as Jazz peered at her as if she’d sprouted a third head. Of course she had meant things at the estate— though there was the matter of the weed plants that she was growing, and with her being out of the house, someone had to water them. It was difficult to focus on just one thing, and she blinked, before letting out a breath. “I don’t know,” she admitted, and the words are defeated. “I have no fucking idea what’s happening. She’s not the same.” Her brows were tugged in, two diagonals that cut across her face. “We’re all sick, Hektor’s living with us, I just—“ Miri let out a breath. “I have a plan. Sort of.”

-

“We’re gonna need a miracle.” Jazz points out, letting out a huff of breath in an attempt to calm down. Tensions are high and it’s to be expected, but they’re capable, they’re stronger together. Maybe she’d consider this some kind of introduction to really being in the coven, some kind of test run. It seems like the kind of shenanigans she’s read about in the archives. And yet, this is an original vampire, supposedly the original vampire, and she had a family back home. She could pack up and-No, no she can’t, not standing there looking at Miri, not thinking of Atlas and Ava, everyone else in Corinth she’s met. So instead of running, she looks to not just another witch, but a friend, and she gives a nod of her head. “Start talking, I’ll help with whatever I can.”

She breathes heavy through her lungs, congestion caught in her throat and as she sits there, vermillion begins to drip from her nose in heavy streams, an odd type of sickness. She can see it in the expression that crosses Jazz’s face that something is wrong and she feels the heavy smear of blood that was above her lip. Horrified, the skies darken outside as she scrambles for some klennex to clean the mess up, feeling so confused and scared because this isn’t normal for her. 

She finds the staff washroom quickly, it’s the closest door from the salesfloor and she washes it all away in the mirror. Returning to the witch who when they are in their most desperate hour is offering help so Ade would try to choke back her pride. “It’s good you’re talking to those two losers, they’re good.” She says trying to play cool in the doorframe but her hands are still shaking. “We could use some help.”

She expects snark and instead the other witch opens her mouth only for blood to spout from her nose. They’re both surprised but before Jazz can offer any help, Ade is scurrying to the washroom behind the counter and she finds herself frowning, about to scoot around the till. It doesn’t take Ade that long to clean up though and before she can check on her, she’s back and against the doorframe. There’s something almost a little fragile to her, she’s definitely not her usual combative self. “Do you want to sit down? That didn’t…” Now that she thought about it, the last time she’d seen Miri, she’d been coughing, hadn’t she? “Are all of you getting sick?”

“Hektor,” Penelope said, looking up from her novel with interest. She was halfway through a biography on the former first lady of Argentina, and a clean napkin marked her page before it was shut completely to give Jazz her full attention. “I have had very little interest in Hektor,” she admitted. “I know that he is cruel, and formed only of darkness— there is nothing redeemable in his soul, and that when he died, he went to Elysium while his entire line waded in Acheron for eternity.” The witches’ words made her halt, and her jaw tightened. “Then they are doomed. The estate is not safe for those inside, not while he lives beneath the roof.” Dark brows tugged in. “Anastasia is vulnerable, as are her children.” Penelope looked up, “Are they alright?”

-

“I don’t know.” Nothing Penelope is saying is particularly comforting and she thinks of her dreams of the bay, of it’s waves so high, so angry and beating against rock or sand. Perhaps it’ll finally swallow them all up, the coven would be the first real casualty. Jazz gives a shake of her head and her train of thought chugs along to Dio, to his distress, and then she shakes her head and finds herself once again clutching the hardcover book. “I mean, they know. At least one of them.” What do I do, what do we do? How do I protect them? What does any of this mean? The woman before her knows a lot, seems wise beyond her physical years, and yet she doesn’t think she has answers for her.

The words made her stop and then start, like a computer struggling to reboot. Jazz’s words had an edge to them and she looked over her shoulder, squinting into the foggy landscaping and the pointed tops of the iron wrought fence before sleep deprivation and a general lack of good health made her turn her head slowly back again, blinking at the other witch. There was about a hundred things she could have done that Dio could have snitched about, from stealing someone’s take away at MILF’s to basically moving out of the house with nothing more than two bags over her shoulder. “Told you what?”

-

If the situation didn’t feel so serious, Jazz might have laughed at how she was watching Miri recount anything her brother could have said about her. It is a little slice of normalcy between siblings, it’s sweet to see. But if such a thing is to continue, they have to do something. “About Anastasia, about who else is in the house.” Hektor, the name flashes in her head like a neon sign and yet she can’t bring herself to say it. She almost does though but thinks better of it, gives a shake of her head. “What the hell is going on?” She’d go back to Dio, surely they, all of the siblings and her, they could do something, right? But she needs to hear this from Miri, from the one of them she’s closest to.