JUPITER

“You, me and kitchens, I think it’s starting to be a thing,” Maia chuckled, “Maybe it’s our place, I’ve always felt comforted by kitchens,” She turned away slightly as she rummaged through cupboards, organizing out ingredients in a neat order. Mostly out of habit than anything else, she liked order just as much as she liked chaos. Maia herself usually fell somewhere inbetween.

At the mention of Asteria, something in Maia twinged. It hurt still and it would never not hurt she thought, her first best friend gone and gone and gone. She’d looked at the grimoire, safely tucked away now and she’d been looking for an answer. Even in her grief, Maia had known what she knew with clarity now - there was no answer to be found, not there.

“I’ve found myself drawn to it lately,” Maia admitted with a soft smile, “I don’t know…I suppose I like keeping her with me,” She chuckled, “I think so, she would have loved to meet them and…” Maia trailed off for a moment, able to be a little vulnerable in front of Ari. “I hope they aren’t mad at us,”

      Growing up, Ari hadn’t spent much time at all in a kitchen; instead, that came later, in her single life and later into her engagement with Peter. Back then, it’d always felt like a chore, but now it was a welcome comfort, a reprieve from the chaos and something simple to find solace in. Maia being around nearly always... it only did more to soothe the spirit that was left in tatters and tangles from the events of the recent battle & ritual. “I like the quiet it provides. Maybe it is our thing,” Ari confirmed with a smile. 

    “Is that hers, the book?” Ari questioned. “May I... see it?” Her own book, tucked away back at home, had been something Ariadne had been nearly scared to touch for a week or so now. Some days, all she wanted was to pretend that none of this had happened; none of it existed, and that she could sleep peacefully without these memories. But no, each morning she woke knowing all the same things she had falling asleep. 

   Mad at us. Ari hadn’t put much thought to it. “I would not believe they would be, but.... I have learned not to expect anything, anymore. Hopefully Ms. Ceoi is telling the truth, in that she spoke with them each, and did not just select by random as she seemed to do with us.” 

diamond nodded her head along to the fellow witch’s words. “i just hope they’re OPEN-MINDED.” the blonde said with a curt nod of her head. she knew the possibility that there were ones that MIGHT not be …. okay with their newfound powers and she hoped that even with those feelings, they kept an open mind about it and would come around EVENTUALLY. it was optimistic, but that was just how she was.

“NERVOUS?” diamond repeated. she licked her lips and nodded her head. “yeah … a little.” the little witch admitted, almost timidly. “ – it’s a LOT. don’t get me wrong! i’m so happy i came back, i really like it here. it’s just … i worry i’m not as good as YOU, or the others, so am i even going to be any help to the new witches?” even though diamond wasn’t present for the fights and the practices, she had been working on her magic on her OWN. it had come far, but she knew the others had been THRUST into much more intense practice sessions then her. after all, lives had depended on their talents. 

   “if genevieve was truthful in that she had spoken with them all- i would assume they would be...” but you never knew with that woman, and everyone knew that to be an all true fact by now. genevieve was the master at twisting things to fit her narrative. these new witches were still a very big mystery to them all. ari was hoping not to get any expectations this soon of who to expect to join them. a small laugh came from her lips next at the insecurities so easily spilled out by the blonde. “do not worry. i do not believe this to be an art of talent, but more of nature. it is like...”

at ariadne’s tone, zelenia’s face fell – and became just as SERIOUS as her friend’s was. the astral witch wasn’t wrong. zelenia knew EXACTLY what she had done and why it was completely valid to DISAGREE with her. not that zelenia would accept your argument. the beauty rolled her eyes and leaned back into her seat. her gaze LEFT ariadne and was looking around the room while the witch kept talking. when she brought up zelenia’s attachment to roland, the ice witch instantly whipped her head back around. “ATTACHMENT?” the blonde repeated with a scoff. “i don’t have an attachment to him, not like that.” her words, though said firmly as though she believed them – were nothing short of a LIE. zelenia had felt herself grow attached to the HUNTER, but these were feelings zelenia didn’t KNOW how to face or handle – so she refused to acknowledge them. “i made him into what he hates, he’s hardly in any mental position to HUNT us again. hell, he hadn’t even been in that position for WEEKS before this.”

when: july first, three pm where: genevieve’s house status: open to all

“ – what’s the BIG deal? it’s not like i did some horrible thing, i just made ONE extra witch.” zelenia said with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. the matter of which she was referring to was the SECRET mission of her own. how she used genevieve’s plan for selfish intentions – and turned roland into a WITCH. the blonde really didn’t think it was THAT big of a deal. so there was one extra witch running around – without them, he was CLUELESS anyway. he didn’t even want the magic to begin with. though, zelenia had gone behind EVERYONE’S back. she didn’t even tell ari her plan. or roland himself. “he’s not going to be a problem. I’LL make sure of it.” just like she had made sure of it when he was simply the witch hunter living in her shed.

when: july 1st, in the morning

where: genevieve’s house

who: open to all!

Maia had cried a lot over the past month, she’d cried - she’d been so angry that she thought she might break. Then - well Maia hadn’t known what to do, she’d just felt empty. Maia had just been tired and she still was tired, but she’d wanted to make herself useful so she’d started to try and take care of the others. It had been an impulse and Maia had just wanted to make herself useful. She was rubbing at her eyes that morning, the whole…new witches thing had been draining and she’d parked herself in Genevieve’s kitchen to make them breakfast.

At the sound of footsteps behind her, Maia turned. “Hey,” She said in that subdued manner that had marked her movements for the last month, feeling like she’d borrowed the shirt she was wearing from one of the others and not given it back. “I’m making french toast,”

   “We always find ourselves like this,” Ariadne chuckled softly, just as tired as the other woman, stepping into the kitchen with her socked feet against the cool tile flooring. The last time she and Maia found themselves isolated in the kitchen, finding a reprieve from the chaos, it had been healing in a way; and in all the craziness that had ensued after the fight with the hunters, Ariadne had withdrawn slightly, curling into herself as she mourned, and tried to make sense of the new reality she existed in. 

   They could have died, all of them. But she didn’t. Maia didn’t. They were the survivors. In the wake of that knowledge, breakfast felt like such a startling normal thing to consider, and Ari was touched by Maia’s sensitivity to the others needs. 

  French toast. It brought back a memory of one of their fallen friends, and Ari’s heart clenched. “Asteria used to make that a lot,” The astral witch remembered quietly, knowing how close she and Maia both were to the cheerful blonde. “She would have been so excited about the new witches. Do you think so, too?”

when: july first, afternoon where: genevieve’s house status: closed for @jupitersari​

“it’s almost UNBELIEVABLE how much things had changed in salem.” diamond said with a gentle tone as she sat down beside ariadne. though the little astral witch had been gone for MANY months and missed what suddenly seemed like a ton, ariadne had been the one to keep her updated all this time. she didn’t feel a disconnect from the group, at least, she didn’t feel a disconnect from her MAGIC and theirs. though, the blonde did worry about being accepted into the group once again. “ – do you think i’m going to fit in?” she asked the other astral witch.

unlike ari, ofelia has not been raised on mantras and all good things that make you feel warm and fuzzy and complete as you went to bed at night. no. ofelia was born at the heart of the kind of love people wrote stories about. a messy, unkind type of love that was destined for failure, but that tasted so sweet you would be a FOOL to deny it. she had been raised in the arms of love, the kind of arms that have held so much, yet loved so little. her abuelos were kind people, much unlike the mother woman that had so unjustly brought her into the world in the first place. she tried to remember that. but not too hard, it seemed.  one of the many things ofelia had admired about her raven-haired friend was her persistence. it wasn’t a rude, obnoxious persistence - but one that showed passion, AMBITION even, even though ofelia could never fathom why she was quite worth all the EFFORT. she snickered at ari’s comment, and although she had completely mishandled what ofelia had endeavoured to convey…it was sweet. the place ofelia called HOME was by no means perfect, or even remotely pretty. old wallpaper was curling off of the walls, the kitchen, living room and dining room all merged as one unhappy mistake, and ofelia felt a rare sense of embarrassment at the mess of it all. she had been in WORSE. and for much longer periods than she had ever intended to stay in salem for.  “ you can put them in the basket, ” ofelia commented quickly, said wicker basket already overflowing with her own second-hand trainers and the odd pair of odd heels. “ they can have a shoe orgy while i figure out why exactly it’s HERE that you’re taking refuge. though, i am.. .” her mind scrolled through her mother tongue briefly, before chiding, “ eternally grateful. ” she curtsied, as if to mock the formal tone of everything, and to further underline the divide she felt between herself and her companion.  “ come. sit with me. call me Dr. O-phil-ia if you’d like. ” she launched herself casually upon the heaped pillows that sat, frayed and stained upon her couch. the ( tap tap tap ) of her hand colliding with a blanketed area of the furniture drawn out specifically for ari, was soon met with the impatient squealing and flash of elation on ofelia’s face. “ COME. i usually charge for my shrink abilities but for you? ” her voice mimicked that of the old, scruffy men pitching their products on 3AM infomercials. “ completely free. as long as you promise to tell me EVERYTHING. where’s the fella? and the annoying friend you were hosting? don’t tell me they did a runner… ” she hadn’t meant to impose, and cursed herself internally for her carelessness. 

her reply comes in the form of a laugh, one of those meant to quell any anxieties her conversational partner may think to have. “no, none of that; wouldn’t have made much of a difference to me if we were in a motel, but i do appreciate that we’re not lacking in comfort.” aside from her own apartment ( that studio and the current condo-esque situation), the room ari had acquired for the two is much nicer than anything belén had been used to in her childhood — it wasn’t a source of spite, just fact; maybe even irony, a stalker finally allowing her to experience the lavishness she had claimed to live in when she was younger. even then, beggars could never be choosers and she was feeling like a very lucky beggar at the moment.

“in all honesty, for a very long time i could only see that isolation as necessary — when i first moved to salem i was alone, and it had been the same ever since. then again, i wasn’t being stalked by a hunter in those times…” she takes a moment to look for the right words, “i want to thank you for this, it means a lot to me — more than you know.” if she had been angry with ariadne’s actions once there is no trace of this anger in her tone. there is no manual here, no clueless witch’s guide to navigating magic and men hell-bent on eradicating your existence. it wouldn’t feel right to be angry, not over this.

a comment is made about ariadne’s father being a smart man, and she can’t help but think of her own father — wherever jorge may be. “you’re very welcome,” she says with a smile that ari is sure to miss, “you’re right…i’m sure we can do more with an awareness of our own power…” belén isn’t sure where the other was going with her aside, but she nearly melts at the thought of room service. “i am actually starving, and i would like so much room service.”

“Well alright then,” she answered, something quietly impressed in the words. “That’s the pride ya all need to have with these bad boys.” She winked at the end of the pun before smiling.  “Wasn’t sure what the group think was on anything.  Not sure there’s much group tink at all, if I’m honest.” There was the creole again, a subtle persuasion in the sing song tone. “Who do you turn to for guidance, Ariadne?”  When Ren said the name she lets a curl into the ‘r’, evoking something meant to be enticing. 

Curiosity still ruled her and she failed to keep that from her eyes, drawn to what the witch said about her book. “Light,” she repeats, nodding her on.  “Right.  That’s more useful than it sounds, cher. Simpler minds will try tellin’ ya that light is a straight forward thing but it’s got a way of it’s own.” Teeth found the bottom of her lip, an old habit when thinking before the information comes.  “Found something about purification in my book with light, but I’ll have to dig more now I know one of you is here.”

   the weekend was spent in mourning; for asteria, for jack, for their hope, for herself. all light seemed to be lost, and with lixue leading the pack, ariadne hated to even think of the destruction, loss, and chaos the future brought. now she floated, unable to find momentum or guidance, with no leader to turn her eyes towards. like many of the witches, ariadne was at war inside, and desperate for a project. 

   so, her fingers found roman’s number once more, and she set up a second meeting, to go over more of the translated pages from the book of old runes. with mason on the loose and now fully aware of her witchy status, ari was terrified of being out of the hotel, so she wore large sunglasses and a head scarf, looking like a silhouette of aubrey hepburn as she breezed into the library and to the room, shutting the door. not suspicious in the slightest... 

   she told herself; don’t look, don’t type in the url, don’t even think of it... but during one of her insomnia driven late-nights in her hotel room, holed up alone with both belen and luce gone onto other things and asteria gone to this world... ari couldn’t help it. 

   she looked. and, startlingly enough, it felt as though maia was speaking to her, through her words, something that ariadne found herself relating with so deeply. how just a simple blog post managed to bring up some a sense of validation in the witch, ari wasn’t sure, but come morning, she was reaching out to maia... and finally, visiting her home for the first time. 

   if i have to do bad things to protect them, i will. ari hated how much of herself she saw in that line, a terrifying line that constantly wavered and waned. to know that someone like maia, who ari viewed as so strong, felt the same? well, she had to be there with her, to talk, to plan, to practice. and the grimoire left behind by carter was an intriguing mystery as well. so, ari was there, with a purchased package of baked goods from the store in hand and her expression perfectly crafted to hold back all the pain she felt inside. “good afternoon, maia. i brought, um- i brought these, if you were hungry. and tea,” a light, forced laugh, referencing their last talk. 

     to say that ariadne was not knowledgeable about relationships would be both true and false at once. she’d had them, she’d been successful in them (by her terms, when you look at what she and peter had), and she had learned how to end them and identify when things were not going well. it was the murky region of heartbreak, true love, and loss that she lacked any sort of experience in, and with luce coming back to the world and seeming to suffer in doing so - ari was not sure what exactly was needed, or required, from her as a friend to cleo. 

   the two stayed together, and ari retreated, giving them both the space they needed to do... whatever it was people who care for each other in that sort of way do when one halve of the whole comes back from the dead. in truth, she was relieved to fall back into her ways, her quietness, her stiff nature; and maybe, maybe the old ari would have reached out sooner to cleo, showing up unnoticed in such a rude way, pushing her strange, abstract display of companionship on the healer. but- she didn’t. in fact, ari was abnormally quiet in the days following the full moon ceremony, seething in anger at mason and herself, but covering it up with a perfect blanket of rigid calmness. 

   and so; she had not called, she had not visited, even after luce found her way to ari’s hotel room a few days later in desperate need of her magic for slumber. in fact, seeing cleo at all was a stroke of pure luck. ari sat in the expansive garden, a little unkept by now and beginning to see signs of weeds choking blossoms, at genevieve ceoi’s home. it was left now, by them all, all but abandoned and sitting silently as a reminder of her absence. but ari felt the strongest here, where she had sat with asteria in the past, trying her magic and growing it for the first time. she was surprised to look up and see the face of another one of the witches, much less cleo. when she smiled, it was forced, cool, and didn’t quite meet her eyes. “a lovely surprise. i hope you are doing well, or at least, better than you were in past weeks.” 

   since belen stayed over, ari had been left alone with her own hauntings, enjoying the fancy room by herself. it wasn’t a surprise when luce emerged from the other side a bit... off, a bit different; ariadne had expected as such, deep down. nothing felt normal, anyway, and she had no idea how luce would react to the massive amounts of news that was thrown at her so soon. the introduction of lixue, the capture and prophecy about roland, jack’s death, asteria’s trickery into purgatory; it was a lot, even ari’s head swam. so despite her urge to recoil, lock herself away and hide from them all... she couldn’t, not entirely. 

   instead, she offered her safe haven of isolation to luce. with a jacuzi tub, a large screen tv, and plush blankets and pillows on the bed reserved all for her, mint and slippers set nearby, it should be something of a vacation, a relaxing retreat... if only things were different. not to mention, ariadne’s hair was a flaming bright color, raven color ruined with dye, and now a neon sign of pinks and orange. god, ari was almost more worried about what luce would have to say about that than anything else. 

   “there is cute little miniature bottles of vodka in the mini fridge,” the witch gestured to the appliance, reclined on her own bed, flipping through a magazine... as if it were all normal, but her eyes spoke of knowing as she gazed at luce. “i am ashamed to admit, i am not sure what quite to offer you in comfort.” 

her hands still feel dirty with magic. something in her wants to wipe it off and wash it away though clementine knows it’s so unlikely. clementine wants to regret everything magic invited into her life. she wants to curse at it with full lungs for removing any peace and comfort from her life. she knows she was never set for grandeur and never aspired for more than a quiet life with her plants and perhaps a partner to kiss her before bed. those fantasies are gone now, dissolving into the chaos and the grief. yet, clementine finds it hard to regret everything magic brought into her life. without magic, ariadne would never be part of her life. or perhaps she would, but never in this way. 

ariadne is the type of woman set for grandeur. she is all elegance and eloquence, trained and educated in ways clementine can’t even imagine. ordinarily, their worlds would never clash and this connection would never exist. right now, clementine can’t fathom going through the days – going through this – without the steady support of ariadne. so she can’t regret it all. so she thanks the stars that bless ariadne from above with their gift for making it possible that she is part of her raggedly life. 

her chin trembles as she listens to ari and she nearly feels guilty to let herself feel special when she knows she failed luce and it seems she failed belén, too. she hopes so much she doesn’t fail ari. tears still fall but they’re not nearly as loud as before. clementine squeezes her friend’s hand. she is lost to words, not sure they can translate the mix of gratitude and sorrow that pours out of her eyes. 

the witch watches, mesmerized, ariadne’s short display of magic. she is reminded of how beautiful it is, if handled with care, and her hands itch less under the magic on her palms. the light enveloping the dead plants seem meaningful in some way, the way ari’s light envelops clementine’s beaten up one. clementine brings herself to kneel on the couch, turning her whole body towards the chinese witch. her hand clutches hers again. “ i’m going to hug you again, ” she says before diving in for another tight hug. she lets go soon enough and though her eyes are still wet, clementine isn’t weeping anymore. “ i think… ” she sighs, eyes downcast. “i think you’re my light right now.” her voice breaks and the earth witch struggles to speak without melting into tears again. “ thank you, i– i don’t think i know the words but – thank you. ” she hesitates now, letting the silence hang between them before she speaks again. “ you remember the woman i told you about, from the festival? ” she asks, softly. “ it was luce. ” 

   you’re my light right now - it felt like a high honor, and ariadne wondered if she was truly strong enough to shoulder it. she’d never seen herself as weak; in fact, quite the opposite, conditioned to be the best and the brightest in any setting. she could navigate any party, and business scene with ease. charm anyone, make sense of anything, solve any problem; but not this. ariadne felt powerless in the coven, in the midst of magic, but something about cleo’s words reminded ariadne of her own core. at her center, she was well trained, she was clever. her whole life had been spent preparing for a destined future, and now that things were devitating, ari was using her well-taught skills for something else 

   hell, she was creating light, and if her parents could see her now... would they be proud? somehow, the hug from cleo is comforting, a sense of something normal and welcome. ari smiled into it. wondering when she had changed. physical affection had made her cringe before, but her heart was a gate flown open, and cleo had the key, it would seem. 

   she was about to say something, when the weight of cleo’s confession crashed down around her. it was new information, but somewhere deep inside, ariadne had known. a sense for it, that wasn’t fully understood until just now. “you love her, luce?” ari nodded, posing it as a question despite the answer being something they both knew. she was quiet, nodding once more slowly. “do not lose hope. this is not your ending. not even close, and it is not hers, either. have faith.” 

They know each other well enough by now for Cole to realise Ariadne’s not herself. Still, anyone would be mistaken to assume she’ll sit her down and ask about it. “Flirting looks good on you.” And she means it. There’s something looser about the other woman then that only enhances her good looks. “As I bet the undies do. But y’know, guilt…” Cole flops onto the bed with a sigh, clicking her fingers and pointing at the other witch. “Guilt only goes away with practice. So I’d say from my own learned advice, the answer is wriggling into that La Perla pair and modelling them for me enough times to work it out of your system.” 

Together, they’ve made quick work of folding her life back up ready to transport to the next place. The scene isn’t new, except it is — she’s never checked out, never walked back down to the parking lot bags in tow with someone else before. When they reach Ariadne’s car, Cole’s surprised. “Uh, I didn’t think this far ahead but I’ve gotta get my ride to Maeve’s too.” Her gaze drifts to a well-loved eggshell blue classic VW Beetle and then back to Ariadne’s newer, better kept car. “Race ya there?”

  It was the thrill of no self-control, plundering ahead blind, that had Ari constantly teetering on the edge of what she considered danger. To her, Cole was just the entrance to something more, something tangible, something she had craved for... her whole life, maybe. Part of her wondered if Cole even meant what she said - or if this reaction, the easily flung humor, the sexual innuendos, if it was just second nature. A mask, much like her own; but then Ari backed up from the thought, reminding herself to play it safe. 

   She didn’t know these girls. And there was too much yet to come to try and understand their very being. Not with all the chaos yet to endure. So she smiled, plainly, all soft edges and careful calculation. “Maybe not race... but yes. I will see there.” 

   Ari stepped into her car, taking a deep breath before daring herself to speed off a little over the limit - just as a treat. 

   it was the grip of fear, the lack of control, that caused ariadne to branch off. her chest tightened, and when she realized she couldn’t escape the appearance of jack’s face, frozen in terror at his early fate, naseua swept over the musician. nothing like this, in her life, could be comparable. and so, she knelt down, and began to dig with her own perfect, manicured hands. 

   “do not laugh,” ari requested quietly, voice far stronger than she felt inside. she sat back, looking at the pathetic beginning of a hole that she had started - she realized then, heart sinking, her own hands would never be enough to dig a full 6 feet down. even with a shovel, she would struggle, the woman who has never done a day of manual labor in her life. “hunter or not. he deserves a peaceful resting place. i wish i had magic to do it for me...” 

   ari looked up now from where she crouched against her heels, dirt smeared on one sweaty cheek, looking like someone unrecognizable with neon hair and dirt-caked artificial nails, hair frizzing at the sides of her tight bun. she met maeve’s eyes, wondering if the other witch felt any of what she personally was feeling, a raging storm within. “i have to do something.”