#cece001

Rae Elle's momma always taught her that a practiced witch was a good witch, and she should practice any chance she was able. Back home, that meant fixing sidewalk cracks on Chartres or making flowers grow in Washington Square Park. All careful, all when people weren't looking.

It was different, in Lunar Cove. Case in point: she was working at the record shop, idly wasting away the slow hours as she hummed along to Johnny Cash and rotating a couple of rocks above her hand. The goal was to practice control while using as little of her attention as possible. It was going pretty well until the bell above the door chimed, and by the time her attention was diverted back from three places to two. the rocks had already clattered to the counter.

"Howdy, cher," she greeted. "Looking for something old, something new? We've got it and everything in between, as long as it's music."

It’s not a shock to see Cece at the party. Rowan knows that the brunette grew up in the club life, and their social circles overlap so much at this point they may as well be the same one so she had been expecting to run into her sooner or later. She’s not entirely sure how the other woman feels about the patchover and the party going on around them, not that it matters much in the grand scheme of things, but as she spots her sitting by herself rather than being her usual social butterfly self, she has a feeling as to where her feelings stand. “Alright,” she huffs out, sliding into the seat at the table across from Cece. “Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”