#chatzy

There was a certain energy that encapsulated downtown Wicked’s Rest that always invigorated Anita. Even for a small town there was a bustle and hustle, particularly after the sun had set, that exuded a dangerous excitement. Perhaps for the average human resident of the town the danger outweighed the excitement, but for the lamia it was the other way around. With the college classes about to start back up again for the semester the town was filled to its brim with residents; older students going out to party and enjoy their time before studying began, younger ones trying to scheme their ways into the shadier establishments with fake IDs. A late summer night in town was anything but dull. 

Anita had closed out her tab at a bar around the corner and was loitering around the streets near The Common when she spotted a vaguely familiar face cutting through the park. Before she had placed where she recognized him from with any definitiveness, Anita started walking towards him and skipped herself into walking beside the tall semi-stranger. As she looked up at him the pieces fell into place - Wyatt’s plus one from her birthday party. She smirked. “What’s a guy like you doing out all alone on a night like this?” 

—

Making the most of the end of summer felt imperative - as a general rule, as much as Kieran tended to take stock in those, people retreated back into their boring routines and normal lives as soon as summer ended. The mix of weather and vacation was the perfect setting for a faun but, ever the optimist, Kieran wasn’t worried about the turn of the seasons, either. Fall brought with it a different kind of crowd, the new students and a continued flow of tourists, even people looking to forget that summer was over and they were back at their mind-numbing jobs. So really, making the most of any evening was the takeaway here and Kieran had certainly done as much for what had already passed of this one. 

He was heading back to where the night had started, seeing if another hour or two could be stretched from this evening when someone suddenly joined him. It took a second but as soon as her charming features lit up with that smirk, it registered. Anita, Wyatt’s friend and the host of a very successful birthday party. “What makes you think I’ve spent the whole night alone?” Kieran shot back with a smirk to match hers, running a hand through his hair as it was already tousled beyond repair either way, a raise of his eyebrow alluding to the cause. “I could ask the same of you. Even though I’m very pleased to finally properly meet you - anyone who can pull off a themed event like you did is someone I need to know.” 

—

There was nothing that specifically indicated to Anita that Kieran wasn’t human - beyond his generally cool vibes - yet she felt almost instantly a distinct lack of humanity to him. She liked to think that she was able to tell who was and wasn’t human based on vibes alone, even though the data did not necessarily support her belief in this superpower. “Well, you were alone before I found you. Did you ditch your date or did your date ditch you?”

The compliment about her party made the lamia’s smile widen, she knew that her party had been exceptional but it was always good to actually hear others confirm what she knew. “It is quite lovely to meet you properly as well, I usually know people a bit better before they have wild sex somewhere in my house… not always, but usually I at least know a name. You and my Wyatt seemed to have a great time. Anyone who knows how to properly enjoy a party is someone I need to know.”

“Now that we know each other properly, and we both seem to be alone this fine evening…” Anita picked up her pace, moving up and turning around, walking backwards so she was facing him with a devilish smirk, “wanna get into some weird shit tonight?” 

_

This was an acceptable turn of events for this evening as Kieran really did enjoy having acquaintances that served a much different purpose than say, his previous company or Wyatt. Although the shifter did have the added benefit of having offered to eat anyone that posed a problem and faintly, Kieran did wonder if Anita knew or even could relate. If the two were really that close then it seemed likely - Wyatt wasn’t the best at keeping his cover, it seemed. And Anita did carry an air of simply being better than your average townsperson. “Not ditched, he’d just served his purpose is all,” Kieran hummed, full and content. His euphoria had tasted like a tropical drink on a warm beach - very fitting for the end of summer. 

A glance at Anita’s face confirmed that she held no grudges for the little stunt pulled at the party and Kieran’s grin was bright and without the slightest hint of regret. “Think your margarita bar was partly to blame there. That and, I’m presuming it was you, teaching Wyatt how to salsa.” Not that they’d needed a reason, it had been rather inevitable. But at least it seemed Anita most likely had no clue as to what Kieran really was or what these great times really entailed. Seeing how much she seemed to care about Wyatt, she probably wouldn’t have been all too fond of him being a faun’s regular late night snack. Which really, would have been an overreaction if you asked Kieran - the shifter was fine. Mostly. “But I guess that makes you entitled to a name. Kieran.” 

An eyebrow quirked as Anita, suddenly the picture of mischief, rather impressively walked backwards considering she was anything but sober. Really, with those looks and that attitude, he both pitied and envied anyone she set her sights on. Well, anyone unable to keep up with her, a category he decidedly did not fit into. Kieran pretended to think about her offer for a moment but a smirk to mirror Anita’s was quick to give him away. “You had to know the answer would be yes.” Catching up, he looped an arm in hers, the giddy and playful energy filling the air around them. “Lead the way.” 

_ 

Served his purpose. Oh, what a deliciously curious phrasing. Yet more evidence to support the non-human hypothesis Anita was developing.  “Ay, when there is a dance floor, top shelf tequila, and good Spanish music playing… I can’t help but teach anyone in my vicinity how to salsa. Wyatt was just in the right place at the right time.” 

It was no surprise when Kieran agreed to her proposal, the two seemed like kindred spirits in their pursuit of mischief and fun. Wyatt would have told her if he was a fellow lamia, that much she felt sure of, but beyond that the possibilities were plentiful of who her newfound partner in crime for the evening could be. Keeping pace as they linked arms, Anita quickly ran down the list of options for where they should go. 

The night warranted more than just the average dive bar that this town afforded. Thankfully, Anita knew exactly where to lead them. “We’re in luck. I know this person who throws these strange, exclusive parties once a month over in Nightfall Grove. Tonight just happens to be the night.” Looking him over as she guided them towards the party location, Anita pursed her lips slightly, “You’re not particularly opposed to this outfit getting slightly dirty and/or wet, are you?” 

_ 

It was becoming clearer by the second that Kieran’s first instinct about Anita had been right on the money. Better yet, he might have even underestimated how much the two of them seemed to have in common, even if her salsa skills might have outweighed his own. “I appreciate your willingness to share the joy. A man that doesn’t know how to dance is entirely useless.” Perhaps it was more so an unwillingness to dance rather than the actual skill that was a turn off but Kieran’s persuasion hadn’t failed him yet when it came to changing someone’s mind about the dance floor. 

Even still, she continued to be just what the faun looked for in entertaining company, the buzzwords of strange and exclusive drawing a pleased hum from Kieran. “I clearly should have reached out for your company sooner,” he stated and as far as compliments went, this was a top shelf one coming from Kieran. Anita’s question had him glancing down simply to remember what he’d put on at the start of the evening (and again not that long ago), seriously balancing the prospect of a refreshing kind of night out against the possible death of a somewhat cherished outfit. 

“I’m not not opposed but if you–” Whatever terms he was about to set stayed unspoken as a sound of distress diverged his attention, keen ears picking up on what sounded like a cry for help. With the arm still looped in Anita’s, Kieran steered them towards the source of the sound without an explanation, just in time to catch sight of someone being dragged off somewhere quiet, clearly against their will, by two dark clad strangers. He finally looked at Anita, eyebrows raised in a silent question of whether they could maybe just ignore having seen that. 

_ 

As eager as Anita was to hear the rest of his response, the nearby screams that rang out undoubtedly captured a bit more of her attention. Without missing a step, she followed along with Kieran towards the source of the mysterious calls of distress. Screams were not uncommon in this town - not while alone in the woods and not while on busy downtown streets. Oftentimes, they were screams of humans getting themselves into trouble and Anita tended to avoid getting involved in human-on-human affairs. 

Turning the corner to see who was causing this person to scream, however, piqued her interest. They didn’t necessarily look not human, but there was something about the synchronicity of their movements that seemed quite curious. Anita met Kieran’s gaze and shrugged a bit, as if to say ‘why not follow and see what happens?’ 

Without waiting for a response to the question that was never really asked, the lamia kept walking towards the screams with her arm linked with Kieran’s. The kidnappers dragged their apparent victim down a more secluded side-street and Anita shifted her eyes to those of the rattlesnake so that she could see better in the darkness. There didn’t seem to be anything else awaiting them down there. “I’m not saying this is more exciting than the party… but it will make for one hell of a party story,” she whispered. 

_ 

Anita didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest as they observed what was essentially a kidnapping, a good quality to have in a town like this. Still interested in the night his company had suggested, and unable to have that night without her, Kieran couldn’t find any particular argument as to why they couldn’t follow along for a bit. A quiet thought asked if maybe there was a way to help without getting involved but no, any sort of involvement just spelled out ‘messy’. 

Getting beat up over a situation he’d gotten himself in was one thing but that was not a price he was willing to pay for some stranger. Maybe they should have done more to keep themselves out of trouble if they didn’t want to get kidnapped. 

“It’s not going to be that great if they just hang out here,” Kieran argued quietly, unsure of what sort of action would make this an interesting story to recount. A surprise shift from the victim into some sort of deadly creature, one that would maul the attackers without batting an eye? Maybe this was the fun kind of kidnapping, some sort of bachelor party shit or a really intense sex game? “You think this is a real kind of kidnapping?” 

—

It was a fair point, the story lacked a good ending, which it needed to have any value to them at the party. The set up was immaculate: witnessing someone get dragged off by shadowy figures on their way to the party. But without something else, without something more, then the story was all set up and no pay off. Anita nodded at the question, commenting casually, “Yes. There are fun kinds of screams and there are screams of terror. I have heard plenty of both. There is a certain tone in a person’s voice when they are terrified for their life. This seems real.” 

The kidnappers stopped moving, abruptly, halfway down the alley. Unsure if they were stopping because they realized there was an audience or for some other reason, Anita wondered if she and Kieran were being too obvious in their following. She didn’t really want to ruin her outfit by shifting if she didn’t have to, so she hoped that there was some other reason. 

Then, suddenly, a fascinating ending to this party story appeared out of thin air. Quite literally. A foreign glow began to appear, as if a doorway was being opened where there had not been a door. “Fascinating…” Anita said, as she watched in awe as the creatures struggled to shove their victim through the portal that had opened up. 

—-

He so wanted to dive deeper into Anita’s casual comment on screams of terror - sure, it didn’t necessarily mean she was the one causing those sounds considering where they lived but Kieran was even more curious than before - but spying on supposedly dangerous strangers didn’t seem the time or place for a gossip. “I am very excited to get to know you better,” he settled for informing her, just as well since Anita’s party story seemed to be getting its ending.

Kieran hadn’t been expecting whatever sort of magic this was. A murder, supernatural or otherwise, sure. Maybe even something more nefarious but not… a portal seemed like a ridiculous word to use, even for someone who literally transformed their entire appearance with little more than a thought (and magic). The person they were trying to push through this strange new pathway seemed less than willing, which made sense. “Hmm,” Kieran offered in response, eyes trained on the struggling kidnap-ee until they were suddenly engulfed by the light, the sounds of struggle vanishing along with them. 

Blinking, the form of the strange door etched into his retinas, Kieran looked to Anita. “Looks like you have your ending,” he murmured, placing a hand on her arm in the universal gesture for ‘let’s get out of here before someone tries to send us through a strange, glowing portal too’. Impeccable timing, really, as an offended ‘hey!’ came from the two kidnappers, eyes turning to their little audience. Oops. 

—

A wide grin spread across Anita’s face at the notation of getting to know Kieran better, she wasn’t surprised that was his take away from spending just a brief period of time with her, but it was always lovely to hear confirmation of how well her charms worked. “Very few people have lived to regret getting to know me better,” she commented with a wink, which was not wrong. Most people didn’t get to live with any regret they may have ultimately had for getting to know her. Typically, she ate them before that happened. But she didn’t have plans on eating Kieran. 

Anita was incredibly intrigued by what these kidnappers had in store for this person and this portal. She hadn’t seen anything like this before and while her curious instinct made her want to stay and learn more, her survival instincts did not want to get shoved into that portal. So she just watched from a distance with bated breath as the struggle reached its climax, the doorway portal disappearing just as mysteriously as it had appeared. 

“Yeah, I suppose we should head to the party now,” the sentence barely left Anita’s lips when she heard the shout from the two kidnappers. Now that was a real ending to the story! Without missing a beat, Anita reached out towards her fellow onlooker as she started running back down the alley where they had come from. She figured his long legs would help him catch up to her quickly, and they weren’t far from the party anyway… what better way to show up than out of breath with a delicious story to share? 

Roxie had gotten Nora and Jade back to Wicked’s Rest faster than Nora was ready for. (She would never be ready.) Nora convinced Jade to drop her off at the side of a random road and told her she needed time to think about what she’d do and say. If she hadn’t been dropped off in Wicked’s Rest, Nora would have turned around and decided she couldn’t do this. But she wasn’t strong enough to walk out of town again. Hunger and thirst gnawed their way through her, little burrow holes consuming her whole. Nora was home, for better or worse. 

She meandered for a while. A new day came before she made her decision. Van’s first. Van, not like the car, wasn’t home when Nora let herself in. The scent of her friend lingered in the home, but it was stale. Maybe she was at work. Maybe she was with Regan. Maybe she’d forgotten Nora existed and that would be good. Van’s shower was a welcome sight. The hot water boiled her sunburned skin, but the pain wasn’t a deterrent. She scrubbed herself for hours. Pieces of her skin flaked off with the mud. Blood prickled to the surface. Nora kept scrubbing until the water ran cold. The cold water reminded her of the waterfall, of days lounging in Ireland. She exited the shower, checking to make sure Declan was safe and sound in his bag. 

Van still wasn’t home. 

Nora wandered through her friend’s apartment. Banshees had been here, and there had been an urgency in Van’s messages that Nora had ignored. Another on the long list of apologies that she owed. She sat down, in front of the unauthorized art piece she’d been working on, on Van’s walls. She started to work on her apology. Time passed, and Sharpie stained her fingers. Her other hand never left Declan, it couldn’t. The door finally opened, and Van’s scent filled the home. Nora tried to say something, she did. Her mouth opened, and she filled her lungs, but nothing came out. She kept drawing. 

Van let her mind linger too long on things that didn’t matter. Jade didn’t matter right now, and as much as Van was upset with her, she couldn’t put her energy into her. Nora was still missing, personal items left behind on the floor of her crypt. Babadook kept Van company most nights, coming and going as he pleased. The fear that she wore like a second skin served him every meal he’d ever need, but he never lingered long. Perhaps her sadness was too much for him, too. Van struggled to find it in herself to go to work, telling Rocky that she needed a couple of weeks off. He obliged, as the spring semester was nearing its end, so that meant less customers. It was easy to do nothing but stare up at the ceiling of Nora’s crypt, tracing the cobwebs with a raised finger. 

But she couldn’t stay like that for long. How long would it take for Thea to drop by? Emilio? What would they do if they found her there, staring into the nothingness? Thea might awkwardly say a few different lines, and Emilio would call her kid and offer beef jerky or something. He was nicer to her now that Nora had gone missing. Van wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. 

Instead of rotting in Nora’s cot, she pushed herself to go home. She climbed the outer staircase up to the apartment that she and Thea had shared for a short few months. The floor had been cleaned after Regan had visited out of fear that if she ever came home, she would put together what had happened. Now, there was a bright yellow duck carpet in the middle of the room, too far from any door to make sense. Maybe she should’ve gotten something a little classier. Van found that the door was already unlocked, and fear climbed its way through her, making a nest out of her ribcage. She idled by the door, mind immediately wandering to Jade. She couldn’t call her, though. Should she call Emilio? How quick would he get here? She cracked the door open a little wider, gaze immediately drawn to a pair of boots that she’d be able to pick out of any shoe pile. 

“Nora?” Immediately, her gaze leveled on her best friend– sunburnt and raw. Her own words caught in her throat as she haphazardly kicked her own shoes off, sending one flying into the wall. Van rushed forward, throwing her arms around Nora. Nora smelt like hours of scrubbing and sharpie. Van didn’t move away from her right away, too afraid that if she pulled back, it wouldn’t be Nora whose frame she was holding. She closed her eyes, squeezing Nora tightly, memorizing every dip and shallow breath she made, memorizing the way her chest heaved beneath her touch. “I missed you– I’m so glad you’re here–” She finally pulled back, tears pricking her eyes as she searched Nora’s face. “I missed you. Like, a lot, but– what do you need? Nora, what can I do?” Because that was what mattered here. She couldn’t focus on Jade, or her house, or the way that Regan was back (and being taken care of by others). She had to focus on those who wanted her there, those who did right by her. Both Wynne and Nora fell into that category. 

Van was a flurry of emotion and life. As her arms wrapped around her, Nora tensed for the blade to cut Van’s throat or her own. The flutter of activity took her back to Ireland, stuck in the middle of the convent of banshees. She didn’t want to be there. She forced it from her mind, but those memories were worms writhing beneath her surface, wearing tiny warden costumes. Words were stuck in her throat, she wished she was Jade, capable of talking and saying things that meant important ideas. But she was still Nora, always Nora, unfortunately Nora. Nora wanted so badly to be okay, to be normal, to be the friend that Van deserved. To ask about her month, her house blowing up, the banshees. To just speak, but the shadow was shoving its arms down her throat and layering her lungs in rocks.

A deep breath. One foot after another. Live to mourn. Face your punishment. Nora took a deep breath, she tried again. “Van.” Her voice croaked on the word, cracking from lack of vocal use and dehydration. But it was a start. It was a beautiful start, as she looked into her beautiful friend’s face and faced the harsh beautiful love she saw reflected in Van’s eyes. It shouldn’t hurt like this, to be wanted, and missed. But it did hurt, it hurt because she had taken the knife that slit Declan’s throat and carried it with her. She held on to the knowledge she killed Declan as tightly as she held on to his bag of ashes. And that pain made her see how clearly she didn’t deserve everything she was given. It grew the pain to insurmountable levels. 

“I missed you too.” Each word took effort. With each word, she fought the shadow’s grubby hands and flung the rocks out of her lungs to say something. Each word was a cost of her punishment. “I don’t ne-” Her voice cracked on need, she needed Declan to be alive, she needed to have saved him, she needed to never have gone to Ireland, she needed everything to be okay but nothing could ever be okay again. No matter how much she fought, cried, screamed, and lived it would never be okay again and how could she need anything other than that? Nora swallowed back the bile rising inside of her. “I don’t need anything.” She forced the monotone to return to her voice, to be who she was supposed to be, instead of who she was. 

There was nothing to be done about anything. There was only this. Sitting in Van’s apartment, the strong smell of Sharpie wafting around them, two reunited friends. One excited, one who couldn’t stop thinking she shouldn’t be here. It should have been you, the shadow laughed under Declan’s bag. “Sorry about your house.” Because she hadn’t said it before, had she? Before when she didn’t know what it was like to love something and lose it. Van probably loved her house, she’d lived there her whole life. That was something to be in pain over. Nora could relate to that.

The Nora that Van remembered was not sitting in front of her now, but that didn’t matter to her. It wouldn’t have mattered if Nora came home hating her, telling her that she never wanted to see her again, because at the very least, Nora would have been there in front of her, so obviously alive. But was that enough for her? For this Nora? Van wasn’t sure. She stared at her friend for a long time, willing her to say what it was she needed, but that was… ultimately nothing. Van could work with nothing– she had warped her way around it most days, had found herself sitting in the hollows of it. She simply nodded, smoothing her hands up and down Nora’s arms, a reaction to the icy chill of her skin despite the heat of the sunburn that burrowed beneath it. She was both freezing cold and warm at the same time. 

“Okay, we can– nothing.” Van cleared her throat. She remembered the frustration she felt with Nora’s lack of understanding of what could happen in Ireland, especially after what had happened to her and Jade. Now, that frustration had evaporated. Nora had lost somebody. Declan. The boy she claimed to love. The longer Van looked at her, the more and more she knew it wasn’t just a claim. It was real. She could see the hurt of the loss written into the fiber of Nora’s being. If she could, Van would’ve dipped her hand into the pool of hurt and came away with the muck. She would’ve deposited into herself, need be; anything to stop the hurt. 

But that wasn’t how it worked, and Van knew that. Oh God, how she knew that. “It was just a house.” It was more than that, and maybe a little later she would allow herself time to grieve it and what it actually represented, but Nora mattered more in this moment. Van needed to tend to her best friend. She wasn’t good at consolations, but she’d been offered plenty, so she knew what not to say. “I’ve been hanging out with Babadook, I think he missed you, but he’s been like, super fed and everything. This town, the horrors– he’s munching real good.” The words caught in her throat and she moved back in to hug Nora again, burying her face into her friend’s neck. “I’m really glad you’re back, Nora. I’m here, you know. I know it’s– I’m just here, okay?” Because that was what she had needed when she had lost her parents; the reassurance that the person she needed most wouldn’t walk out the door. Of course, she had, but Van could never imagine doing that to Nora. Not in a million years, even though they only had a few decades. “Do you need water? Anything to eat?” Van pulled away slightly, hands never leaving Nora’s shoulders, too afraid that if she retracted them, that Nora would fall away in a plume of smoke. 

Nora saw compassion in Van’s eyes, and it hurt. It hurt to see someone who was right about everything, who’d warned her from the beginning, still hold enough empathy to care that Nora had fucked around and found out. And god how she found out. If she’d listened to the people in her life, the people who cared, the people who’d only ever wanted what was best for her, would Declan be alive? These were trains of thought Nora always got lost in. The circular thinking her mind liked to keep her in. It was a dance. The moment she thought she stepped out, it drew her back in. “It wasn’t just a house. It was your house.” Declan had been Nora’s home. The future. Wherever he was, she wanted to be. A home was where your heart was, and hers was burned in the ashes before her, and Van’s was maybe burned in the house that had been her home. It was all very confusing. It consumed Nora. 

The shadow danced around her, it started to envelop her, wrapping long arms around her. “It should have been you.” It cackled. “It should have been me.” Nora agreed, forgetting that Van was there, real arms touching her. The touch was a comfort, but reality was an escapee. Van was speaking about Babadook, and Nora gripped so desperately to her words, forcing herself to stay present and there. Her hands raised to Van’s on hers, and she held them. She’d never been a physical person before, but now she craved the comfort of being held. It was her newest weakness in a line of weakness that had broken open in her. “I’ve missed him too.” The words were lame, because could she claim to miss all these people when she was so eager to stay in Ireland? So enchanted by the life it promised, that she threw away everything she had here? And Van was looking at her with love and compassion and didn’t Van see? Nora didn’t deserve this. The shadow cackled. 

The ask, if she wanted food, reminded her of the ever-gnawing hunger inside her, but the idea of eating was revolting. It churned her stomach and made her want to wretch. “I’m fine.” Nora lied, a lie that she would find herself repeating until it splintered her throat and ripped out her tongue. “It’s good to just be here. With you.” Because she owed Van those words. Because they were true. Because she wanted this to be enough, to quell the ever blossoming pain inside her. Nora stiffened as Van pulled away, trying to wordlessly tell Van that they didn’t need to end the hug. They could sit there, entwined in each other, until time forgot to check on them. And that would be okay with her, if it was okay with Van. 

“It was replaceable. I live here now.” What wouldn’t have been replaceable was losing Jade to the banshees, and while she wasn’t sure how to feel about her right now, Van felt strongly about that. The same sentiments echoed about Wynne, Regan, and Nora. But Van had let go of the house the moment Regan offered her a place to stay after the goo had taken over Worm Row. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The memories were overwhelming, and while there were a few choice memories here in Regan’s apartment that she would’ve liked to forget, this was what Van considered to be home now. Did Nora feel the same? Was that why she had left? There was a certain kind of desperation in Nora’s expression that Van hadn’t ever seen before. It was distant, too. Van felt as though if she reached out and waved her hand in front of her friend’s face, it would take an eternity for her to react. 

Van stayed quiet for a moment, waiting for Nora to say something. But something else crept up over her shoulder. It wasn’t quite a figure, that much Van could tell. It was reminiscent of Nora’s illusions, suctioned to her as if siphoning the life off of her. She stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the illusion, mind racing against what might be real about it. Nora was reacting to her touch, but Van couldn’t take her eyes off of the apparition that hung over Nora’s shoulder. She nearly missed what Nora had said, and even after she tried to focus on it, she wasn’t sure if she had gotten it right. Van held onto Nora’s hands tightly, fingers threading through hers. She had a lot she wanted to ask, but she wasn’t sure now was the time to ask about the shadow acting as a leech. Instead, Van nodded. “I’ll um, go and get him later. Bring him here. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” Could he tell that Nora was back? Had he thought he had been abandoned? Van stared at Nora for a moment longer. 

As she declined the need for food, something gnawed at Van. She knew grief, knew it intrinsically. It etched itself into her in more ways than she cared to admit. It had made a different person out of her, clipping the wings of who she used to be, letting the feathers fall to the ground and become trampled over by her own indecision and self-righteousness. Nora needed help. Van knew that. “We can watch something. Power Rangers, or maybe Shrek.” Van got to her feet slowly, noticing the hollowed out look in Nora’s eyes. It pained her to see her friend like this, and all she wanted to do was help absolve her of the guilt, but how could she? She hadn’t been there. This wasn’t for Nora to fight alone, but Van knew it would be on Nora to accept the fact that she did in fact need help with it. Until then, all Van could do was help her with the menial things. Van pulled Nora up to her feet, supporting the majority of her weight. She tried to avert her gaze from the shadow that lingered over her like an extension of Nora, and began to guide her to the bedroom. “I’ll order food later, too. Um, just let me know what you want, okay?” She squeezed Nora to her side, heart hammering in her chest as she kept the shadow in the corner of her eye. It was looming, threatening to overtake Nora, but Van couldn’t let it. “I missed you like, a lot. Thea did, too. She made so much meatloaf. Um, Emilio, too. I mean, he didn’t make meatloaf, but he missed you.” Had she been by to see him yet? Van thought about messaging him, but there was a reason that Nora had come here wasn’t there? She needed to be here, not anywhere else. 

Van was careful with Nora as she helped her climb into the bed, and Van climbed in right after her, grabbing her laptop. The shadow was still there, snaking around her friend’s neck, keeping her in the chokehold of grief. It made Van’s skin crawl. “We’ll watch something, we’ll eat. You’re safe here.” It was an odd thing, being in control like this– anxiety kept at bay for the sake of needing to be present. She held her foot on its neck, much like she hoped to do by the representation of what Van could only imagine as grief (hers had looked the same, even if it only wound its way through her nightmares) kept its claws dug into Nora. 

Van didn’t want to stay still and melt into the floor with Nora. She kept moving. Hands moving up and down Nora’s arms, Small movements, closer, farther, rocking, breathing. Van was stronger than Nora, Nora could see that now. Van would keep this up, if she had to. Words, movements and ideas while Nora would have allowed herself to disappear between Van’s arms. Throat splitting in two. Blood spilling over the carpet. The cycle of death in the arms of someone you loved continuing. Debbie’s ghost getting her justice. Declan’s ghost already gone to a better place. The shadow raked its nails down her back. The cycle would end with Van, because she was strong. Wouldn’t it be a poetic end? Shakespeare knew nothing of tragedy. 

Nora held onto Van, but Van didn’t want to melt into the carpet. It was replaceable. Nothing in life was replaceable. Didn’t Van see? It would all go, and they could never go back. They would live forever in a forward movement that ripped them from the place they wanted to be and trampled them into the ground while they couldn’t keep up. A side-scroller refusing to let the hero turn around. But Nora wasn’t the hero. She was the antagonist, antagonizing herself over all her mistakes. They could never get back to what was lost. They would spend the rest of their lives dreaming of houses filled with Declan. And it would never come true. So how was Van this calm? Why didn’t Van want to melt into the ground with her? 

It took a lot of energy not to melt. It took concentration to listen. It took effort to live. The shadow overpowered her, consuming her and concealing her. She wanted to see Babadook, yes, that would be nice Van. Thank you, Van. The words were imaginary. In her imagination, they came out clearly. They didn’t have to fight past the shadow’s death grip around her neck. It didn’t matter that Nora couldn’t speak, that her mouth flopped open and closed on a broken hinge. Van never let the silence settle between them for long. With each fresh snowfall of silence, she’d break up the empty witness, snow shoes crunching a path that bridged them together. And Nora admired Van for it. 

Each name Van listed of someone who missed her, sent a new crack shattering through her heart. She thought it was already too broken to keep breaking, but here it was, splintering again and again. Please, she was screaming, I don’t deserve to be missed. Let me rot, let me melt, let me go, I don’t deserve it, this, anything. This was the punishment Jade had spoken of, facing the love and forgiveness. She craved it greedily. She hated herself for it. 

Because of a typo on a form, Kyle found himself waiting around at the BMV for his number to be called. It was the right kind of temperature where you’re not too hot, and you’re not too cold, and yet you’re clammy. The fluorescents buzzed at just the right pitch for the sound to settle into a pressing headache just above his left eye. It smelled like someone had just microwaved fish for lunch. Despite the special pocket of hell that existed in this stupid governmental office, the singular employee seemed to be having the best day possible. Kyle detested him for it. 

By the time his number was called, Kyle had created a narrative explaining all the reasons this chipper man was the way he was. Watching this man have a normal day made Kyle’s day worse. “Hi, I’m Kyle Pryce and I guess I fu–uhh, messed something up and now my tags are way past expired and I think I gotta just fill it out again,” he rushed out in a large breath. “So, can you…help me with that, then?”

—

Beau hated when people gave him their names before they asked. It was rude. It meant that he was going to have to awkwardly ask them for their names again, and they would look at him like he was stupid. At least he would get the pleasure of looking back at them like they were stupid when they realized they didn’t have a name anymore. Beau sighed, adjusting his glasses and looking down at the kid in front of him. “Kyle Pryce. Uh huh. Do you have forms 1082r, 1293c, 1082rda, and 1329p filled out already?” Beau grabbed the forms from the guy's hands and started flipping through them. 

“Uh huh. Uh huh. Hmmm. Haha, so what you can’t spell?” Beau marked something with his pen, he started typing on his computer. He really liked to put on a show when he was helping people. Working at the BMV was a production, and the show was the worst place on earth. “Very expired, haha. You could go to jail for that.” Probably. Beau didn’t actually know the law, he only knew the scope of things that involved the paperwork he needed to do here. “May I get your name?” 

—

The numbers of forms swam in Kyle’s head. Before he could even check to make sure he had those forms, they were being snatched from his hands. Kyle had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something. If he pissed off the BVM guy, he would likely have to come back and do all this again, and he wouldn’t do that. 

At the next question, Kyle felt his ears redden. He couldn’t spell, no, but this douchebag didn’t need to know he was dyslexic. That was just a mean ass thing to say. “Uh, I just made a typo. Or two. I’m human, mistakes happen.” He didn’t mean to sound defensive, but they weren’t starting this off on the right foot. He didn’t want to go to jail for having expired tags (or for petty assault of this man), so he swallowed his pride and nodded. “Yeah, I just told you my name. It’s—isn’t it on the paperwork? I swear I had to put it on there.”

—-

Beau continued the show. He typed loudly at the computer, a random key smash on the computer’s notepad. Kyle was talking. Made a typo or two. Kids these days. They never checked their work. They never did anything right. They always tried to slide by then got defensive when they were met with the consequences of their actions. Tip. Tap. Type. “Right. You’re only human, after all.” It was disdain that laced his voice, fighting with the smile plastered on his face. 

Then Kyle decided to be rude. Was it not enough to be stupid? Must he be the harrowing combo of stupid and rude? Beau let out a long-suffering sigh, still fighting with the smile forcibly plastered on his face. “It’s on your paperwork. But there are rules and regulations. There is a correct way to go about this. There is a procedure. When I ask, ‘May I get your name?’ I’m asking you to tell me that you know what name is on these papers. Since you couldn’t spell it right the first time, we need to confirm a few things to get the ball rolling. Let’s try this again. May. I. Get. Your. Name?” He paused after each word, tongue clipping them off sharply as he stared down the kid across from him. 

—-

There was a tone to this foul little man’s voice that set Kyle’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t place it, but the constant smile, the way he slammed his fingers onto the keys—Kyle was getting more frustrated by the second. He hated this man, and they’d only just gotten started. “Rules and regulations,” he parroted. “I get that, but why can’t you just read the forms? What’s the point in filling them out if you don’t read them?”

He grit his teeth, and breathed out steadily through his nose. It’s fine, he told himself. Just get through this without wolfing out. He could always go to the basement later and let it out if he was still worked up. “Fine. My name is Kyle Mahihkan Pryce.” As soon as the words left his mouth, it was like they disappeared into the ether. What had he just said? He couldn’t quite remember. There was an itch in his brain, like the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite reach them. What had they been talking about?

—-

Beau rolled his eyes, as if this kid was asking the dumbest questions on the planet. To be fair, Beau did think this kid was asking the dumbest questions on the planet. What kind of questions was that? “Why can’t you just read the forms?” Beau repeated the question back patiently, kindly, despite wanting to use an open and mocking tone. “Don’t you know about three factor authentication to keep people from stealing identities?” Wasn’t that funny? There was a policy in place to keep humans from stealing identities, but it made it so much easier for Beau to do it? “Check the papers, check the IDs and get a verbal confirmation of the name, to ensure that the customer knows it without looking.” Beau wanted to roll his eyes. But he didn’t. He was kind like that. 

There was a magical moment right after someone gave him their name. The birds sung, and flowers bloomed, and fae magic wove around him. Kyle Mahihkan Pryce. It wasn’t just a first name. It was all of it. A tasty treat. He copied the name into his program that tracked them. The program wasn’t necessary. He could remember every name as if they had been given to him at birth, along with the faces he’d taken them from. “Perfect.” He kept typing, he did some printing. “That’ll be thirty dollars. Cash or credit?”  It would probably be canceled. Most of these got canceled, as the person realized they couldn’t remember their name and started crying. 

—-

This guy probably didn’t get paid enough to answer questions. ??? had to tell himself that, because this guy was just begging to be knocked out. The tone he used didn’t match the words that came out his mouth, and ??? was left feeling small. He hadn’t thought about multiple factor authentication. It still didn’t make sense to him. If his picture was on his ID, why did he need to give more information? Certainly a BMV employee could identify a fake ID. And his name was right there on his license. Now, if he could just remember that name…

“Cash, I guess,” he replied, fishing in his pocket for a wad of loose bills. He just needed a good nap. He was tired, he was hungry, he was frustrated. A snack and a nap would sort out his brain. That helped him feel better after the disembodied smiles thing at the cemetery. He could accept any weirdness after a nap. Slapping thirty dollars in wrinkled bills on the counter, ??? started to slide them across to the employee, but paused. “I’m sorry, can you just read the name back to me? I’m a little confused.”

—-

Beau took the money, smile turning genuine. “Can’t you just read it from the forms?” He parroted back that so annoying phrase. He typed some more. He filled in some answers and he checked his boxes. “Your identification card is done and paid for. All your typos are now correct. Unless you typo’d on the forms and then you’ll have to come back again.” Beau let out a chorus of laughter, as if that was the funniest thing he could have said. Because it really was funny that this idiot had made typos. 

Beau stapled some papers together and slid everhing back over to the kid. “All done. Bye now.” He switched the number he was now servicing and turned away from the confused soul, back pretending to be typing at his computer. 

—-

Tuesday Tea dates, something that was supposed to happen quite regularly but due to life, the existence of terrible wonderful supernatural things, and distractible ex-demons, sort of just… hadn’t. Teddy wanted to make this one special. A little buddy moment meant to break up the bleak. With arms loaded up on treats and totes filled with various teas, Teds made their way to Ariadne’s apartment. 

The doorbell was a challenge. 

For a good minute or two the caster struggled with the bags, unwilling to put them down (because that was an admittance of defeat) but unable to get something up to the level of the button. Eventually, Teddy used their nose. Poking it just enough to hear a response. Checkmate. 

__

Teddy was super cool. Like, top ten coolest people Ariadne knew. Which made sense, because, again, Wynne had good taste in people (maybe Jade, notwithstanding) and Teddy had proven themselves to be just wonderful. So the fact that they wanted to have tea dates with her was something she’d be grateful for for as long as they were in her life.

She’d just gotten cups and everything all set up when she heard the doorbell ring and she glided over to the door, opening it. “It’s really nice to see you. Nothing in here should be askew.” Or at least she hoped. Ariadne wasn’t the neatest person around, but she liked to make a good impression wherever she could. “How’ve you been? Seeing you really makes me want to grin!” __

Now, Teddy was hardly the most perceptive person around, but even they noticed the strange cadence. Or perhaps word choice was a better way to notate the change. Maybe it was a bit. Teddy loved bits. Rhyming? They could hop on that train. “Howdy hello, the Tea’s good to go!” The long limbed guest wormed their way into the apartment, but not before bop-ing Ariadne on the hip with their own. 

“We’ve got cookies and cakes, and some new flavor takes.” The bag wiggled in their hand as Teddy showed it off, a fine prize, hard won by… going to the store. “What’s new with you… Scooby Doo?” 

__

They started to rhyme too and she shook her head curiously. Well, maybe then they wouldn’t call her out. “Oh, that’s really good. We wouldn’t want to make it out of wood.” Ariadne shrugged. “What did you get? I think my palate has very much been whet.” Which wasn’t a word she figured she had ever used before. “I don’t usually talk like that. I’m not even wearing a hat!” She exclaimed.

“I’m alright. I got to try the new flavor of Sprite!” Which was at least true, so she wasn’t lying on top of everything else. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

__

“Y’know, Cinnamon is made from a bark–” Teddy pondered for a second, thinking of the next rhyme. “Perhaps we should try normal wood, on a lark.” There were probably a few other tea ingredients that were technically wood. Which of course, started Teds on a spiraling path of thought as they placed everything out on the little table. 

“We’ve got a spicy chai and a sweet strawberry cream, both are new but I hear they taste like a dream.” Two ends of the spectrum of taste. “Oh no worries, no need for sorries.” A slant rhyme at best. Honestly Ariadne was amazing at this. They knew she was quick witted, but this was on another level. 

“Ohh, Sprite’s real nice, I like it over ice.” New flavor though? How behind the times had they gotten? “Lots of relaxing and resting… Making Emilio stay still is quite testing.” 

__

“Oh, I don’t know if I knew that fact. I don’t mean to lack tact.” Ariadne watched them spread out the contents of their bag. The strawberry cream sounded especially good. “I might wanna try the strawberry cream first. Anything sweet like that’ll quench my thirst.” She’d meant to say that she just liked anything sweet, but it didn’t come out that way.

“Me too! I’ve gotten it at the zoo. The zoo’s sort is pretty pricey. But it’s very nice and icy.” Ariadne grinned. “I’ve been told I can’t stay still too well. But I guess only time will tell.” She paused. “I think I have some in my fridge over there. I can get some if you want, or even a pair.” She bit her lip. “Pair of glasses or cans, I mean. It makes for a nice scene.”

__

“Lacking facts don’t put you in the sack.” Did that count? Wasn’t the rhyming couplet structure, but ahh well. “Lemme set up that treat, cause you deserve something sweet!” Teddy grinned and headed to the kitchen to fetch the hot water. “This tea pot is so cute!” They called over, then stopped for a second and added; “–and matching teacups to boot!” The looseleaf was scooped into the little basket, the water poured and the tray retrieved. Perfection. 

“I’ve still never been to the zoo, maybe we should hang out there too.” Zoos were… a difficult thing to parse. It took Teds a long time to realize that now-a-days they were more of a rehabilitation and education center rather than a prison for animals. There may or may not have been a few places in Canada that had lost a few apex predators in the early 90’s. Oops. “Oh Emilio is the worst at it, that boy cannot just sit.” A brief silence and an incredibly fond and goofy smile later, they added. “I love him so much Jellybean, even if he’s sometimes stinky and mean.” 

A taste test could be fun. “I’ve heard some use sprite to make their tea, I dunno ‘bout you, but it sounds questionable to me.” Tea and Soda seemed like a practical joke more than an actual ‘food hack’ but Ted would try anything at least once. 

___

“If you say so. I promise that you can always say no!” Because she didn’t want them to feel pressured into anything. That was never something that she would intend to do, and never something she wanted to seem like she did. “I can never get enough candy. The fact that I have lots is pretty handy.” Ariadne grinned. “I do like to match, I guess. Maybe that’s why I play so much chess.” It wasn’t, but she was a fan of the game, and it was something that made her brain think and made her feel successful in a way that few things other than dance did.

“We could if you want. I’ve been there with my aunt.” And Chance, and her uncle, but apparently that wasn’t something she could finish that sentence with. “Except I, uh, well, animals are afraid of me. I don’t want to make them try and flee.” Ariadne frowned for a moment, but quickly shook her head, not wanting to make things sad. “I’m glad you love him as much as you do. There’s hardly any couple out there as wonderful as you two.” 

“I feel you, Wynne’s the best thing in my life. I’d love to someday be their wife.” She smacked the palm of her hand against her mouth. “I don’t mean to overshare about that. I just would do anything, even wear an ugly hat.” Ariadne hoped they wouldn’t tell Wynne what she’d said, because she didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. “Yeah, I love a good sweet, but that sounds like something easy to beat.”

__

“I trust you on that, maybe we’ll see a bat!” Damn, Ariadne was really committed to this, hmm? Ah, right, Teddy thought, the mare thing. No animals unless they were… supernatural-ey. Maybe. Still unsure on that one. As versed as they were in the world of the extraordinary, the undead eluded the Jones fam. They knew enough to stay away unless it was really necessary or really fun. Though, that’s pretty much how Leviathan raised them about people too. Most if not all connections outside of the pair were for ‘necessary’ things. 

“We’ll just have to get you some more, treating you is never a chore.” It was a rhyme, but they meant it too. Teddy had a soft spot for kids, especially ones who didn’t seem like they had the best homelife or childhood. Kinda saw it as their duty to pass on the good fortune Leviathan brought to them with the adoption. Five, Twenty, did it really matter that much? Nah. She was still a kid, and deserved to be treated the best. 

“While the zoo is quite neat, it can be hell on your feet. So we could always find another fun, don’t have to stick to just that one.” They offered, not wanting to dishearten her with the sore subject. “Ah, well you say that right there, but I’ve seen how you care. You and Wynne are a great coup—” Ted’s mind skipped like a scratched record, hearing what she said and seeing the way she reacted. The words just kept slipping through, as if she had no control. 

“—wait, babes, are you not rhyming on purpose?” 

__ 

The mere idea of a Twilight marathon was enough to gain Kyle’s attention. The viewing being at Midnight Drive-in only piqued his interest further. An emo cinema icon, in an iconic format. What more could he ask for? Of course, he had to be parked behind the one truck to block his view. The owner of the truck sat atop the vehicle instead of inside, which put her at just the right height to obscure his view. At first, he decided not to say anything. He figured out quickly that if he leaned out his window a little, and craned his neck, he could see much better. This was fine for a while, but his favorite scene was approaching and he was beginning to get a crick in his neck. He debated just moving his car, but that seemed inconvenient at best, not to mention inconsiderate. He weighed his options briefly, before deciding he had no choice but to ask the truck owner to move. 

With a drawn out sigh, Kyle stepped out of his Jeep and approached the truck parked in front of him. “Hey,” he called, trying not to interrupt the movie for anyone. “Could you maybe actually get off of your truck? I can’t really see past you, and the baseball scene is coming up.” A stranger on their truck would not ruin the scene for him. 

—

Maybe it was sad, how big an accomplishment this was to Daiyu. But she’d never done something like this — a neighborhood initiative. Most of the time her ‘initiatives’ involved causing a ruckus and accidentally lighting a trash can. Besides, she never tended to tie herself to places and so to organize something like this rather than just watch the bad movies at home was something. But it had been a funny idea that had snowballed into something real and now here she was, sitting on top of her truck cross-legged. She wasn’t doing it to be rude — she just wasn’t thinking. 

So when someone approached her about it and she was pulled out of her focus on the movie, she felt the urge to apologize and then, immediately after it, the inner demand that she shouldn’t. “Can’t see it well through my window, though,” she said simply, giving him a glance before looking up again. In the distance the sky rumbled. Whether it was another quake, the movie’s audio being very good or a storm coming, she didn’t know, but it barely mattered.  Something tugged in her stomach and she wondered what it was – this guy, or one of the other people surrounding them. She couldn’t go a day without having something in her body go off, though, so she tried to ignore it. She was here for the movie, not for her hunting instincts. Daiyu sighed, straightening her legs and sliding down her window onto the hood of her car. The window held, much to her relief. (She had wanted to look cool and totally had.) “There. Better? Don’t wanna ruin your Supermassive Black Hole needledrop.”

—

Can’t see it well through my window, was a flimsy excuse in Kyle’s eyes. He frowned. “Better clean your windows, bestie,” he said. His ears pricked at the sound of thunder. He hoped it wouldn’t be a storm. His dad complained when he came home smelling like wet dog. On the other hand, that would make for a wicked cool backdrop for the rest of the flick. 

Kyle’s smile returned at the Supermassive Black Hole comment. “Hey,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense. “You can’t tell me it’s not the most iconic scene in the first movie.” He shrugged, looking from the stranger to the screen. “Alice and Jasper in the baseball scene were a crucial part of my bisexual awakening.” Looking back to the stranger, something clicked for Kyle. “Hey, aren’t you the one who, like, organized all this?” In the distance, thunder rumbled again. Maybe that background storm would pop off after all.

—

She glared at the other and his unwarranted advice. “Clean your own windows,” she retorted, which made no sense but was still a very good comeback. Better than pointing out that she was in the forest a lot and that keeping her windows clean was a sisyphean task. She didn’t know what the word sisyphean meant, anyway. 

Daiyu let out a chuckle. Even if this person had come to complain, he made a good point. “It absolutely is. Banger soundtrack, Alice being an icon, et cetera. I’m not going to lie, I know Vic is a villain and all but she was a crucial part in my gay awakening.” She shot a look at the screen, where Esme was talking to Bella. It wasn’t very important. “Hell yeah I am. I also organized the thunder, actually. Talked to the weather gods and everything to make it fit the mood.” She hadn’t, but she liked having bragging rights. As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning. Two seconds, and then a roar of thunder. “You’re welcome.”

—

Oh, so it was like that. “My windows are clean,” Kyle contested with a grand gesture at his clean, albeit cracked, windshield. “I just can’t see through people on top of trucks.” He wasn’t actually upset, mostly inconvenienced. His car didn’t have the height benefit of a truck. If he sat on top of his car, he figured he probably still wouldn’t be tall enough to see.

“You’re into gingers?” he said, sounding critical. After a moment’s pause, he nodded in approval. “Good taste.” The well timed thunder sent a shiver down Kyle’s spine. “Wow, impressive.” He gazed up at the sky, half expecting the rain to start, too. “You’ll have to show me your raindance, eh? Teach me what the weather taught you.” Glancing back at his car, Kyle started to excuse himself back to the movie, but he was drowned out by another rip of thunder. He could almost feel it in his chest. Another flash of lightning arched across the sky and connected with the ground somewhere in the distance. He could almost see where it flickered just beyond the farthest cars from where they stood. It was too close for comfort. Kyle let out a whoop. “Your storm is shaping up to be something.”

—

“Mine are clean too,” she retorted easily. She was very good at these kinds of endless exchanges, the back and forth, the yes-no, did not-did too’s of the world. Spending a youth with two older siblings did do that to a person. “Well, you should get x-ray vision, then. Next time, that is. I’m down now.”

Daiyu wondered if he’d slam her for liking the villain as he critiqued her. Logically, she should despise Victoria the most — she was the kind of vampire that required putting down by slayer or even a skilled ranger. But she’d liked her, because it was all nonsense. “Yeah,” she said, nodding fervently. “I’m known for my amazing taste, you should follow me o—” Her self promotion was cut in half as the lightning crashed through the sky again. She looked up, impressed at what the sky was capable of. “Damn.” She was a little impressed with herself before remembering she hadn’t actually caused the storm. 

As her eyes traveled from the sky to the screen something caught her eye. It was lightning, but not quite in the way lightning tended to travel. It was like a ball passing past the treeline behind the screen. Another roar of thunder crashed through the sky and this time there were no flashes of light in the sky — just the creature. “Shit.” Daiyu glared at the creature, then rolled off her truck and rushed to her passenger seat door and swung it over. She eyed the other person from the other side. “Hey, yo — you should get the fuck out of here.” She pointed up. “Weather. Bad.”

___

“Then why— y’know what? Forget it. Thanks for moving.” Kyle wanted to argue back, but there was no real point to it. He could already tell he was being wound up just to end up chasing his tail. Metaphorically, of course. “I’ll work on being a little more Clark Kent and a little less Lois.”

Kyle followed the stranger’s gaze up toward the sky as the first couple notes of Supermassive Black Hole began. Shit, he was gonna miss it anyway. “Woo, good job on that timing,” he said, cracking a smile and taking a few steps back. But the mood had changed suddenly. The stranger was distracted. Her focus was elsewhere. Again, Kyle tried to figure out where she was looking. He could see that flickering lightning low at the ground again, but this time it was closer. As he was urged to leave, he didn’t look away from it. The lightning seemed to bend around something; it was vaguely animal shaped, and coming closer. 

“What the hell?” he thought aloud. He looked between the electrified animal and his new acquaintance. She looked tense, maybe even a little worried. “What is that? Is that like—like a generator? A power box? Should I call the fire department? I mean, I can—“ He was cut off by another rip of thunder, with no accompanying lightning. The beast seemed to light up brighter at that and Kyle stepped around the truck to stand beside the other movie goer. “This might be outside of the fire department’s jurisdiction,” he posited.

—

Once, a long time ago, Daiyu had asked her father if she’d been named after raiju. He’d not liked the question, as it was his late wife who’d chosen their youngest name. Besides, the idea that a ranger’s name could be inspired by a beast was absolutely unacceptable, and he’d made that very clear. That hadn’t stopped her brother from calling her one, especially when she was throwing a tantrum. Storm’s coming!, he’d yell, mimicking the sound of thunder.

But whatever kinship she felt with the beasts was ignored in the face of the situation at hand. There was a storm. There were multiple people sitting in metal cars that would become death traps if touched by the raiju. There was the baseball scene still playing, too — and she couldn’t even give it her full attention. She pulled a crossbow from under the passenger seat, grabbing a set of bolts with her other hand. The human – was he human? – was talking and Daiyu popped her head up, staring at him.

She wasn’t very good at this. “Do not call them,” she said. A firetruck was an even bigger death trap. Water would make everything worse. She’d gotten electrocuted by a raiju before – years and years ago – and she didn't recommend it. “You need to – fuck!” She cursed, realizing the impossible way the cars were parked as she glanced around. Daiyu felt frustration rise, the white hot anger that so often cradled her but also sometimes rendered her useless. She could not give into it now, with all these people. (Maybe the person in the woods was right, maybe she was a protector – or wanted to be, anyway.) 

She glanced at the screen, where Edward was running through the forest. The raiju seemed bothered by the noises. Dread rose. She threw a look at the other person. “We need to take it out. I need to – you should —” She was no good with words and just started to make a run for the creature, synchronizing with the Cullen’s as she left her car door open, leaving her arsenal open for the picking. 

 —-

Watching from across the truck, Kyle tossed his hands up defensively as the crossbow was withdrawn. “Easy, cvpon,” he said. “Maybe we should just chill out with the weapons. What are you gonna do? Shoot the electricity? Fuck’s sake.” If he wasn’t supposed to call the fire department, what was there for him to do? He glanced around at the cars surrounding them. Maybe someone had a fire extinguisher in the boot of their car. His new acquaintance cursed and he snapped his attention back to her. All he’d wanted to do was watch a classic film from the comfort of his car. Now, he was caught up in something he didn’t quite understand. 

Coming to this town had been one strange experience after another. Goo, and crystals, and werewolves—now a trigger happy Twilight enthusiast going after a moving ball of electricity. Kyle opened his mouth to protest further, but before he could get much out, she was running off. “I just don’t think— wait! Wait, where are you going?” He cursed under his breath and ran around the truck to at least close the door. What he found inside wasn’t exactly expected. There were knives and ammunition of a few different calibers, as well as a hunting rifle sitting ripe for the taking. Kyle looked over his shoulder at the stranger running headlong into battle, then to the screen where Jasper and Alice whisked Bella to safety. Wouldn’t that be too easy. He glanced back at the stranger, then the rifle. “Fuck.” He grabbed the rifle, fumbled with ammunition, and took off towards the electrified mass.

“Hold up!” Kyle called. He was immediately shushed by fellow movie goers as he dashed between cars and called out again. “I’m coming with you!” He flipped the bird at a particularly upset man in a Kia. “Don’t yell at me, I’m trying to save the day, bruh!”

—-

It was good that humans didn’t know about all the shit that lurked in the shadows. Real good, as it meant they got to live life in ignorance without worrying about being eaten by werewolves or vampires or being trapped by weird grass or sand. Daiyu envied them sometimes. But right now, she thought regular humans were very annoying. None of them were seeing the ball of lightning as a threat and worse, the guy who did see her shooting into action telling her to chill.

She didn’t have the time or tact to explain the situation, which was why she just ran. She tended to hunt alone, anyway — and maybe this time it would be with an unwanted and annoyed audience, but hey. She wasn’t going to see all these cars go bzzzt with electricity and the people’s skeletons light up when they did. If that was even real. The guy was following her and at least it confirmed something: he was the cause for the tug in her stomach.

Fucking awesome. A shifter was helping her kill some beast. 

“Alright, okay, cool, that’s awesome and also great!” Maybe the shifter knew something about raijus. Or maybe he was just … stupidly brave. Which Daiyu didn’t want, because those were qualities she liked in people. She ignored all the protests from viewers (even if it was very nice that people were this passionate about Twilight in 2024!) and jumped on the hood of one of the cars in front to get a good look. She whipped her head around, her ponytail smacking her in the face. “Do not get too close.” She noted the rifle – her rifle – in his hands. Well, good. As long as she got it back. “It’s gonna shock you if you do. Yeah? How’s your aim?” She whipped her head back, the cacophony of sound – movie, yelling moviegoers, storm, someone eating popcorn with their mouth open – made her dizzy but she tugged at the sound and made it one large hum of noise as she attempted to take her aim.

—

The closer they got, the more the creature took shape. Kyle figured it mostly resembled a dog, you know, if dogs went Super Saiyan. That would be a show he’d watch. Dragon Ball Z, but they’re all dogs? Focus, Kyle. He could daydream about anime when he wasn’t in imminent danger of being barbecued. He came up next to Daiyu, mouth agape as he looked at the dog. “I’m gonna have so many questions after this,” he whispered, glancing at Daiyu. He didn’t know if the dog could hear them, but if its hearing was anything like his, it definitely would. 

“Don’t get too close, don’t get shocked, don’t die. Got it,” Kyle replied. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the ball of lightning, but it was getting hard to look at, like looking into the sun. He blinked hard and steadied himself. He drew the rifle and scoffed at the question. “How’s my aim? You think I would pick up a gun if I wasn't pretty confident I could use it? I’ll follow your lead.” He had hunted back in Canada with his cousins. He knew how to take down a deer, or any manner of wild fowl, and even coyotes if the situation called for it. This was probably like coyotes, if the coyotes could decimate the power grid. Simple. 

After a moment, he looked at his new partner in crime—or maybe partner in justice was a better title. “I’m Kyle, by the way. I just figure we should know each other’s names in case we, y’know…” He made a cut throat gesture paired with sound effects.

——

At least the shifter was down to clown — or, like, kill a raiju. Even if he didn’t know what it was. Daiyu tried to shrug off the comment about having to explain what was going on, as that was the part of hunterisms she was worst at, but she offered a quick look and a random thumbs up. “Gotcha!” Which was not a promise or an agreement, but just something to say so she could go on with her purpose.

Which was … what, exactly? Hadn’t she decided to make her code be as simple as the local bounty board? To be moved by money, not by considerations of morality or heroism. Still — even if she wasn’t going to catch any coin for this, could she just let the people die? It wasn’t something worth pondering about. It was simple. Almost as simple as picking a random bounty from the board and going for it so she could pay her rent. These people were in death traps without knowing it. Daiyu wanted to watch her movie without people dying. 

“I don’t know, people are pretty stupid when it comes to guns,” she responded, before offering her name as well: “Daiyu! You’re a —” She changed her mind halfway, deciding it better to not ask what kind of shifter the other is. “Not going to die.” She swished her head towards the raiju, squinting one eye close and taking aim. Soon enough her finger pushed the trigger and her bolt shot towards the lightning creature, piercing its hind thigh.

—

Kyle was satisfied with the thumbs up as a clear promise to fill him in if neither of them died. He was pretty sure that the stranger–Daiyu, as she identified herself–knew what she was doing. Otherwise she was doing a damn fine job pretending. The thought gave him a moment’s pause. Was she pretending? Was Kyle about to be on the bad side of killing a creature like him? The thing didn’t seem to have any sense of rationality, as it was actively walking into a minefield of sitting duck humans. But then, Kyle couldn’t call himself rational when he shifted. He had never taken issue with hunting before. Each animal gave its life for the greater picture. That was simple. It was nature. But where did he, a werewolf, fit into the greater picture? It was never something he’d considered. 

As the creature’s leg was struck, a shower of sparks burst around it. He flinched, abandoning the existential crisis for later. It would keep him up every night this week, but it wasn’t important now. The sparks and crackles from the beast reminded Kyle of a transformer exploding. Like live wires, the beast writhed in pain for a moment. In that same moment, the storm above them roared some of the loudest thunder he had ever heard. It left his ears ringing. Werewolf hearing be damned. The creature recovered itself, and charged in their direction. Beginning to back up, the rifle snapped up as Kyle reflexively took aim. “Aim where they’re going, not where they’ve been,” he murmured to himself, and lined up his shot. A crack rang out, and another shower of sparks rained down around the animal, halting its approach. He breathed a steadying sigh, and smirked at his new accomplice. “Nice to meet you, Daiyu.”

—

Frustration rippled through her, a familiar yet always unpleasant sensation, as her bolt did not pierce the creature through the heart or head but rather its legs. It was fine, she could have just used the immobility to fire another shot. But there was an audience, kind of. There was a hunting partner, which was really not her speed. And the hunting partner – Kyle, the shapeshifter – had a gun and that guy managed to get the killing shot in. The sparks were a welcome distraction, though, a large rain of them sprinkling around the screen. And then, it was done. No more sparks, no more rumbling thunder that came from the creature — just a still corpse.

Daiyu was still for a moment, disregarding Kyle the shifter and staring at the dead body before sliding down the hood of the strangers’ car. She patted it awkwardly before approaching the beast. If she was a hunter with a code to protect humans and keep them ignorant – which she wasn’t – she should get rid of the body. She gave a something to Kyle, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. A scowl, a grin, a smirk. “Yeah, man, that was a great shot. Nice to meet you.” He got the killing shot. He had her gun. And she’d … really made a mess of whatever it was she’d tried to do here. She extended a grabby hand. “Can I get that back?” The rifle, she meant. “So you … whatever. I’m gonna clean up.”

—-

He followed Daiyu to the dead beast, approaching it cautiously. It was certainly dead, but Kyle wasn’t sure if it still held a charge. “Sorry to steal your shine,” he said, passing the rifle back as asked. He couldn’t tell exactly what emotion she was feeling, but he got the impression that it was directly linked to the final blow. “My family is big on hunting. I’ve been going on hunting trips practically since before I could walk. I know my way around a rifle.” Maybe his experience would assuage whatever emotions were going through her head. He wasn’t some inexperienced punk rolling in off the street. He was a well-versed punk.

Looking over the body, Kyle grimaced. Up close it looked even more like just some unfortunate dog. Again, that guilt he’d never felt before tugged at his stomach. Was he so much different than this dog? “Okay,” he said, turning his attention on Daiyu. “Now is the part where you answer my questions. Like what the fuck just happened? Do you do this often?” Having just handed the rifle over into her hands, he shook his head. “Scratch that last one, I don’t need to know. How did you know what that was?” 

—-

She wanted to burst out laughing at the notion. Not that Kyle the shifter was apologizing for stealing her shine, as that was very bothersome because she felt very seen, but that he said that his family was big on hunting. Daiyu wondered what that meant, but didn’t want to pry. She didn’t recognize the other and that meant she hadn’t seen him on the board, which meant there was no good reason to pry. “Oh, awesome. Yeah, my family’s like that I guess too, you know? Hunting elk and pheasants and stuff.”

She took the gun back from him. It was getting harder and harder to ignore all the sounds around them so she trudged forward towards the dead creature. It looked almost like something normal, but she knew better than to just leave it there. “Well,” she said, “We just killed a lightning creature. That could have made all these cars go –” She made a crackling sound with her mouth, followed by a booom. “Oh, I just know. You know? Some people know how to do math. I know how about weird shit.” Like how the other person was a shifter. “Like you and anyone else in this town doesn’t.” She slung the rifle over her shoulder after flicking the safety on and then crouched down at the raiju. “We should get it away from here.”

—-

“Yeah, elk, deer–hell, squirrels if you can get ‘em.” Kyle nodded in agreement, bonding over their shared hunting skill. He wanted to tell her to not let her nerves get to her next time, genuinely wanting to be of assistance. But something told him that would not be received as intended, and he was okay letting it drop. “I used to go out with the uncles, and then my cousins when we were old enough. Family traditions and whatever.” He waved his train of thought away with his hand. This was a stranger, and she didn’t need the specifics of his upbringing. Especially when he had more questions.

He looked from the carcass to the cars, nodding slowly. As he’d pictured in his head, it would be absolute chaos, carnage, and bloodshed. “Good thing you were here, then,” Kyle affirmed. “I might know how to use a gun, but you provided it for me. Which brings me to another question; why are you driving around strapped like that? You get in trouble a lot?” It was another question he didn’t really want the answer to. He was connecting some dots, and the image he was piecing together unsettled him. What if she killed all sorts of creatures? What if she found out he was a werewolf? Would she kill him, too? Or did he need to present himself as a threat first? Those questions he left unsaid. 

Kyle wanted to protest to her that he knew more than he let on. But to do so was a tricky needle to thread, so he simply nodded. “I’m learning.” It was the truth. He’d learned about werebears, and maybe cemetery spirits. He’d heard talk of vampires and zombies, though he hadn’t ascertained if those were real or not. Now, he was learning about real life Pokémon. Kyle crouched beside her, looking down at the sad little coyote. It was much less threatening when it wasn’t actively sparking. “You need help carrying Jolteon here?” 

—

Hunters were traditionally meant to keep humans safe and separate from the supernatural world, but the Volkovs had lost that traditional and honorable cause a long time ago. A higher purpose was so easily translated into something uglier — like the divine right of kings, for example. So Daiyu didn’t do this often and Daiyu didn’t fucking know what to do. Especially because this guy wasn’t human, or at least not fully, or not all the time. So what did it mean when he said he hunted with his family? Were they a bunch of sirens, chasing prey, or bugbears? Or did they hold up human traditions despite being something else? Or was he unfortunately cursed with a werewolf’s bite?

The thoughts were dizzying. “Yeah, same here. Hunting trips with the fam, what a time,” she said off-handedly. Daiyu glanced at Kyle, then back at the raiju. It would be little issue to carry it, with her hunter strength. Should she still be trying not to come off as a ranger, though? Or was that too little too late? She chewed on her cheek as his question bounced around her head. “Nah, I usually am the trouble.” Cheekiness seemed like a safe bet. “But yeah, whatever, I’m just someone who’s prepared for these kinds of things. I try to be more subtle about it usually, though.”

She took the hind legs of the creature, gesturing that he could take the other. A laugh left her lips at the mention of Jolteon. “Fuck.” She huffed. “That’s good. That’s — yeah, Jolteon, that’s right on the god damn nose. Let’s just take –” Her eyes scanned their surroundings, the angry people in their cars. It’d be best to store the creature in her car until she could find a proper way to dispose of it, but to walk it past all those moviegoers was asking for trouble. “Into the woods. Hide it for now.”

—

The mention of her own hunting trips brought forth yet another question that Kyle couldn’t keep from tumbling out of his mouth. “When you say hunting, you mean the elk and not these—,” he looked down at the corpse, but without a real word for it, continued unsure. “These…monsters, right? That’s what this is, a monster?” Yet another question he didn’t want the answer to, but this time the need for it pressed him on. “You know, since you’re so prepared for anything.” He gestured with his chin to the rifle she now held. 

Kyle shouldn’t be prying, not here in the middle of a movie, not with Kristen Stewart monologuing in the background. But hunters were a fairly novel idea. He hadn’t thought they were real, just more fairytale fodder. Like werewolves. It felt stupid to admit to himself that he hadn’t once worried about being hunted down for the crime of being bitten. The very idea made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. It wasn’t something he’d had to consider. The apartment he lived in was above a cryptid-themed souvenir shop, which, conveniently, had a basement for mostly storage of old junk, tools, and broken mannequins. The basement did a pretty good job of holding a bloodthirsty werewolf, and his dad being the building’s super was just the cherry on top of his cover story.

Kyle tried to keep his tone and his expression neutral. He didn’t want the skepticism of being predator and prey to cross his face and give him away as he danced carefully around the topic. “Sorry, Jolteon,” he said, trying to break some of the tension as he took the front legs of the animal and hoisted it with Daiyu. “Can’t catch ‘em all.” 

——

She stared at him, at his clumsy way of speaking, at the way he hesitated to name the raiju anything. Beast, monster, creature, pest, prey. So what was she supposed to say? That she hunted elk? She didn’t, she hated hunting regular animals. She found it — well, she didn’t try to pass judgment, as that started a whole moral debate in her head, but she found it something. “I mean, this is just a coyote with sparks,” she quipped. Daiyu lifted the creature up, wanting to tell the other to fuck off, but here she was. Doing teamwork again. With a shifter, again. 

She could feel it rise within her, the clumsiness. Her father hated this about her, the way she had no control over the things that came from her mouth. Not just because she was vulgar, but because she was too forward. Daiyu tried to press her lips together, to keep her from blurting something out, “But yes, a monster. I hunt monsters. What are you?” Her eyes slanted upwards and she cursed herself inside her head – something she did very commonly – before starting to move. She didn’t owe the other secrecy, because he wasn’t human, but she did owe herself secrecy, didn’t she? But it had to be clear by now what she was.

The pokémon references didn’t help. It made the other too damn likable. Daiyu kept trudging into the woods, the raiju swinging between them. (If pokémon were real, would she be hunting them? That would be really fucked up.) She grit her teeth and managed to not reply this time, for which she still cursed herself.

—

More questions pressed to the front of Kyle’s mind. Why was she so hesitant to confirm his suspicions that this Pokémon-from-Hell was a part of the weird shit? He knew it was supposed to be left unsaid, (he had heard enough from his grandmother,) but they had clearly passed that point when they took it down. A coyote with sparks didn’t satiate the need to understand what he’d just witnessed. His thoughts were beginning to race as his mouth tried to form multiple questions at a time. How much of the oddities of Wicked’s Rest had she known? Would she have answers about werebears, too? Shit, did she know more about werewolves than Kyle? He thought of those questions as off of the table. Surely he couldn’t just ask–

What are you? The question hit him like a crossbow bolt of lightning between the eyes. Every hair on his body stood at attention. “Um.” He floundered for a moment, grasping for any words to respond. He almost tripped over his own feet and dropped the stupid–monster. If this dog was a monster, was that what Daiyu was looking for? For Kyle to admit to being a monster? Was that what he was to her? His stomach felt like a stone falling through him. “Could you be more specific with that, uh, question? Please?”

—

Her hunting training hadn’t covered this. Truth be told, her training hadn’t covered a lot of communication techniques, unless you considered the best ways to trick shifters or interrogation tactics as such. Daiyu felt frustration fly through her system, heard Vissa yell something about a storm coming as her face turned a little stormy. There was at least the creature between them, a good distraction from how the other fumbled with his reply to her forward question.

“Whatever,” she said, “I’m not gonna hunt you.” He wasn’t on the board. Besides, he’d helped. Her sister would talk this guy into the woods and prod and poke until he’d reveal his true nature and then slit his throat, to trick the shifter the way she’d been taught. But Daiyu didn’t want to hunt this guy, and it was only because he wasn’t on the board. No ulterior motive. It wasn’t because of the weeping heart in her chest that her sister Inna had chastised all her life. Just because there was no point in it. (The Raiju hadn’t been on the board, either, but somehow that distinction wasn’t made.) “But like … snake? Wolf? Bird? What are you?”

—

I’m not gonna hunt you, was all the confirmation Kyle needed. He was on the menu, so to speak. Maybe not to Daiyu, maybe not now, but to someone out there. It took him a beat to grapple with his new place on the proverbial food chain before he could get anything out. “Wait,” he said, immediately derailing once more. “There’s weresnakes and werebirds? I mean, fuck, it makes sense, you know, I’ve heard about the little people all my life, but I oonly knew about the bears and the wolves.” There were dozens of questions he had about the other shifters. Like, did the birds follow the same rules? Were they bound to the sun rather than the moon? Could you get bit by a snake and get turned into a snake? Even if the snake was venomous? Was it like Spider-Man, and the venom is what turned you into the snake? He set aside the questions for later (and maybe for Google).

Licking his lips and shrugging, Kyle replied, “I guess I’m the wolf variety.” He clicked his teeth and continued, “Shtah, I feel stupid being at a fuckin’ Twilight viewing and admitting this, man.” 

— 

Oh, shit. This was not the first time her big mouth had talked too fast and too much. Daiyu assumed that shifters all knew about each other, that they had some kind of big shifter text chain where they talked about eating humans and shedding issues, but maybe werewolves were excluded from that. “Yeah! Those totally exist too,” she said, nodding. It would be strange if lamia and sirens only transformed during the full moon, but probably better for society and humanity as a whole. 

She let out a huff of amusement, looking over her shoulder at the drive in behind them as she kept walking further into the woods. “Nah, it’s cool. It’s fun. I like these movies ‘cus of it.” There was something about watching bad movies about the supernatural that made Daiyu feel comforted. It was why she’d watched all of the Vampire Diaries multiple times — but mostly just the first three seasons. “Little bit stupid for telling me though.” She dropped the raiju to the ground. “Kidding.”

—-

Fueled with knowledge, Kyle couldn’t keep his mouth from running. “You probably have so much knowledge on all this stuff, right? I mean, probably more than me. Definitely more than me.” That felt like a mistake to admit as soon as he’d said it. He didn’t want to come off as inexperienced or ignorant. Worse yet, he didn’t want to come off as a problem. “There’s no real guidebook for all of this. Lot of trial and error and error and error,” he amended with a toothy grin. “It’s,” he gestured vaguely to the space around them, “all about learning and shit, though, right?” Maybe that didn’t help his case, but he’d rather be somewhat honest with the hunter. She had given him her word. She wouldn’t hunt him.

“As far as werewolves go, it’s bad,” Kyle mused. He had a lot to say on the topic, but kept it succinct for now. His head snapped up at the joke threat, but he relaxed when he realized she wasn’t serious. Cracking a grin, he huffed a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t have much experience with, uh, hunters. That’s what you’d call yourself, right?” He looked down at the animal at their feet. He almost wanted to ask what Daiyu planned to do with the pelt, but it didn’t seem particularly germane, given the circumstances. 

—-

If there was any way to appeal to Daiyu, it was by saying that she was better at something than someone else. And though this wasn’t something she was particularly proud of, it was still true. She was more knowledgeable than this stranger, “Yup! I know a lot. I’m pretty much a genius when it comes to this.” Compared to him, she certainly was. Compared to other hunters, especially her siblings … well, it wasn’t knowledge she’d ever excelled in. Reciting species’ weaknesses had always been something that tired her — she’d rather find out through just hitting them. “Guess you’re gonna have to find shit out, huh?”

It had to be hard to be a werewolf. At least most other shifters were raised amongst one another, were taught what they were and how they could use that against others. But bitten werewolves, they were just left to their own shitty devices. “Twilight’s a shit resource for sure. And um, yeah, yeah, hunters — maybe that’s coolest for you, right? Just stay outta trouble. Don’t eat people or whatever.” She considered their surroundings, the dead animal at their feet, and started to gather some twigs, sticks and leaves to cover up its white fur. “This one’s called a Raiju, FYI.”

—-

The urge to ask for more and more information wouldn’t die down inside Kyle. He didn’t want to come off as entirely ignorant, but the hunter said she was a genius when it came to this particular subject. “Alright, Encyclopedia Daiyu, I’ll have to have you teach me more about all this sometime,” he said, hoping she’d agree so he could flood her inbox later. “I think I have a lot to learn.” The admission felt like one of weakness rather than simple ignorance. The feeling didn’t sit well inside his chest. Exposing your belly to the enemy couldn’t be a smart move. He had to remind himself that she had said she wouldn’t hunt him. 

The comment about eating people had Kyle grimacing. He had shifted a handful of times outside the safety of his building’s basement walls, but he hadn’t eaten anyone. Had he? The thought made his stomach do a somersault. “I’m good on the not eating people.” He followed the hunter’s lead, covering the animal’s corpse with forest detritus. “Raiju. Ha, kinda rhymes with your name.” He didn’t want to make another Pokémon reference, lest she think of him as a nerd. But there was a Pokémon based on the creature before them. “Real life Pokémon,” he quipped, unable to keep his mouth shut.

—

The concept of her – a ranger – helping a werewolf was absolutely beyond her comprehension. The whole situation was hard to grasp in general, what with her hunting this creature out of some kind of feeling of duty, enlisting a shifter for help and standing here, still and without action. Daiyu swallowed, shrugged, “Whatever, man,” she said, which was non-committal and not an answer at all to his non-question. She didn’t deal with unshifted werewolves a lot — the most she saw of them was when they were feral and wild in the woods.

She felt something press in her skull. A headache. A moral quandary that she didn’t have the tools to solve. These days those were the same. “Neat. I mean, that’s kinda … not cool, you know. Guess that’s gonna get you … targeted. Anyway.” She frowned at the twigs and leaves. “Maybe. I’m not a good — I don’t help people.” She poured some sand over the dead creature, let out a huff of air. “Yeah, it does. And yeah, it is. I used to wonder if the creator of Pokémon like, knew of these kinda creatures.” She started wiping her hands on her trousers, looking up. “Good enough, I guess. There’s still … movie left.” She’d get the creature a proper hiding place later. She held out her hand, though didn’t specify if it was to get her weapons back or to have it shaken.

—

Kyle got the feeling that maybe he’d overstepped some invisible line he hadn’t known was there. Maybe befriending a hunter was reckless, even when she didn’t feel like a threat. At least, she hadn’t felt like a threat. Her deflection read as dismissive to Kyle. Perhaps he didn’t view her as a threat because she didn’t view him as a threat. Something unfamiliar tugged inside his gut. He wanted to be respected by her, not brushed aside. Part of him wanted the hunter to fear him. The thought felt almost out of place as soon as he’d thought it, but wasn’t it sort of true? Wasn’t he a beast to be feared? He huffed a chuckle to himself. That didn’t feel like it fit right, either. Better, but not exactly. “Yeah,” he said, after considering Daiyu’s words for a moment. “I’ll do my, uh, best, I guess.” He met her extended hand with his own, both passing her back the ammunition she’d lent, and shaking her hand at the same time. “For the record, I don’t help people either. One time Pokémon battle.” He turned back towards the screen, frowning at the movie. It didn’t feel worth it to stay. It didn’t feel worth it to leave either. He looked back to his new not-enemy. “Walk you back to your truck?”

—

There should be another bolt in her crossbow, aimed at the heart of the untransformed werewolf. This could be her easiest hunt of the year. But that wasn’t her hunter’s code — if she even had one. Hunting the raiju also wasn’t part of her code, but maybe saving a bunch of people who are watching Twilight could be something she added. As for Kyle the Werewolf, there was nothing that demanded she hunt him besides the nagging lessons taught in youth. There was no immediate threat, nor was there a bounty on his head as far as she knew. So Daiyu simply shook his hand and took her weapon back and tried not to think about it all too much.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said, starting the walk back to her truck with one weapon in each hand, wondering if someone had called the authorities. Hopefully the sounds of thunder and Supermassive Black Hole had covered the sounds of the gunshot, though. “Was a good one, though. Good Pokémon battle. No fried people and shit.” She gave Kyle a look, a semi-grin. It wasn’t so bad, what they’d done. “Edward would be proud.” 

—

There was still some kind of unease that sat alert at the back of Kyle’s mind. On one hand, Daiyu had promised not to hunt him. On the other, she was a total stranger who had just played a hand in taking out a creature. Was he feeling conflicted about hunting the creature? He hadn’t long considered his new role in nature. Were he and the raiju equals? Had he too implicitly trusted this gun wielding Twilight-goer? He would have to sit with the topic later. He thought the hunter might combust if he started grilling her about her moral compass, and he didn’t want to put out any fires tonight either.

Kyle scoffed. “You think I care about Edward’s opinion? He would be a normal type trainer in the most boring way. He would have a team of fuckin’ pidgey and–y’know, never mind.” His face wrinkled in disgust. “Point being, I’m not ‘Team Edward,’” he concluded, with air quotes accenting his words. He crossed his arms across his chest as they reached the truck. Goodbyes felt awkward, especially given the circumstance of their meeting. “Hey, thanks for being cool,” he said flatly, with an air of hesitation. “I mean, letting me make you look like a chump with a bow.” He cracked a teasing grin and gave her finger guns. “You’ll get ‘em next time, bro.”

—

Once arrived at the truck, Daiyu worked on returning her weapons to it, making sure they wouldn’t go off if she went too hard over a speed bump (a common occurrence). A small laugh left her lips at the other’s response to her throwaway comment and she looked up with a quirked eyebrow. “Team Jacob, then? I think you’re biased.” She shrugged, straightened up and closed the door. “I mean, I’m totally team Alice, for what it’s worth. And she’d be totally proud too.” She would probably hate Daiyu for what she was, but luckily she wasn’t real.

They thought it would be relaxing. A nice, quiet day sitting by the water. They’d even brought a book along with them! It was self care, or something. On a rare day where they weren’t expected at the Grit Pit that night, they thought it might feel nice to just… sit by the water and feel the lack of obligations.

Except there was some weird duck crawling out of the lake now, and Felix didn’t think it looked very friendly. 

Uncertainly, the balam scrambled to their feet, taking a few hesitant steps away from the water. They would not run away from a duck. They would not. But they kind of wanted to. They kind of really, really wanted to. They took another step backwards, trying not to draw attention to themself, but that plan kind of backfired when the whole ‘walking backwards without looking’ method of escape ended in predictable failure. Felix tripped over someone who’d been seated behind him, tumbling down into the grass.

Blinking, he looked up at the person who’d unintentionally tripped him. “Sorry,” he said. “There was — That duck is — It’s weird. I think maybe it’s a swan, and I heard swans are mean, so —” The maybe-swan duck waddled towards the pair, letting out a loud honk. 

— 

The water was nice. It was calm, and Xóchitl didn’t have to think too much about much of anything. Which, as much as she liked thinking, she had to admit it was a nice thing to have a break from, even if it was physiologically impossible to entirely turn off one’s ability to think.

She’d enjoyed the Common and Public Garden in Boston, and Prospect and Central Park in New York, but at neither had she ever ever seen a bird that looked quite like the one that was leaving the lake now. Some exceptionally strange swan or something – and, much like with actual swans, Xóchitl found that she wanted nothing to do with them.

To make matters… whatever version of more something than they already were, someone tripped over her and Xóchitl found herself looking up at them. “It looks like a weird swan or duck. No offense to animals, but I’m not a fan of whatever that is.” She hopped up on her feet, taking a very abrupt step back as the bird let out a honk. “I’m Xóchitl, by the way. Have you ever seen a swan like this before? I haven’t.”

— 

The swan-duck-thing was a little more than ten feet from where they stood, but it looked like it probably intended to come closer. And Felix didn’t really think they wanted that. Not for themself, and not for the woman — Xóchitl — who they’d all but run into, either.

“Oh, hi,” they greeted, waving a hand awkwardly as they took another step back, pulling Xóchitl with them gently. “I’m Felix. And, uh, I’ve definitely never seen a swan like that before. Or a duck. Maybe it’s a goose? I think geese are supposed to be mean, and it looks pretty —”

The bird flapped its wings, propelling itself forward again. Closer now, it let out another deafening honk, and — Felix couldn’t move. They blinked, eyes darting over to Xóchitl. Was this a them thing, or had that bird actually done something?

—

“It does look pretty mean, if you ask me.” Which, you know, they hadn’t, but Xóchitl couldn’t help herself. 

The honk it let out made her nearly jump, for a moment, which was weird, because even the most annoying of geese-duck-swans she’d run into hadn’t ever made her jumpy. Only full of dislike, and maybe a swan had freaked her out when she was little, but this felt different.

Wrong, almost.

“Should we – move away from it?” Xóchitl wasn’t really sure what this situation called for, but leaving seemed like a good idea. Leaving was easy.

—

“It does,” Felix agreed solemnly. The goose looked angry, and angry geese were probably dangerous. The jaguar within them took some interest, probably because this was a bird and he was a cat and there were obvious connections to be made there.

Or maybe because the honk really spooked Felix, and the jaguar always thought that meant it was his cue to jump in. Felix quickly stifled the desire to shift and eat the bird, because the jaguar was kind of a dick and would probably eat Xóchitl, too, which wasn’t something they wanted.

“We should move,” Felix agreed, only… they couldn’t. It was like they were frozen in place, like their legs weren’t listening to the commands their brain was sending to them. “We should really move.”

—

“We should move, yeah.” Xóchitl echoed their words, though she found herself unable to actually take an action on said words. Which was strange, because she was a very capable person who was almost always easily able to take action on what she wanted to.

“We need to move.” She tried to move again. “I – you can go first.” Maybe they’d move, and that would kickstart her into being able to actually move, because she couldn’t feel herself going anywhere any time soon.

Xóchitl looked back between the goose-thing and her companion. “Right? You – go ahead, and I’ll follow you.”

—

“Okay,” Felix agreed, hoping that her words would… spark something. Force the signals in his brain to send to his legs, something. But when they tried to move again, they found themself just as stuck as they had been before. 

They stood, willing themself to move for a moment longer. There was a beat. And then: “Actually, I think you should go first. Yeah. That way if it attacks, I’ll be able to fight it off. Because I’m, uh — I’m a really good fighter. So. Yeah! You go first, and I’ll watch your back.”

—

They wanted her to go first, and Xóchitl still couldn’t move. And while she wasn’t entirely opposed to lying, there was only so much back and forth that she could handle, especially given that she was feeling far too stressed out by this goose for anything to be made sense of.

“I can’t move.” She finally admitted to them. “I – I’m not lying.” Even though she would lie, sometimes, but not about this. Not to make fun of someone. “Can you? Because I’d really like to not be here. Not – you’re great, but the goose? Not so much.”

—

It was almost a relief, hearing that they weren’t the only one frozen in place. Felix often went through a cycle of fight, flight, freeze, fawn when in a difficult position, and while freeze wasn’t their most common reaction, it did still happen from time to time and was certainly among their least favorite responses. So… it was good that it wasn’t happening now.

But not really good. Really good would have been being able to move and escape. Or even… fight the goose. Fawning would be useless here, but probably still better than this. Whatever was happening, it was evidently some physical thing. So… probably not a normal goose. Great. This was fine.

“I can’t move either,” Felix admitted, a little sheepish. “I believe you! That you’re not lying. I’d also like to get out of here. Because of the goose! Not because of you.” This was just awesome.

—

“Well, I’d be alarmed if anyone wanted to leave somewhere on account of me.” Except that Xóchitl couldn’t quite get herself to laugh about that. Mostly because it wasn’t a laughing situation, as much as she tried to lighten the situation with some vague branch of flirting.

Mostly because that was the best way she knew how to diffuse something, but that might not work right now. Especially because there was no way in hell she was going to flirt with a goose. The goose probably wouldn’t understand human languages anyways, so trying to even reason with it would be stupid and pointless.

“How exactly are we supposed to… find a way to move?” Xóchitl paused a moment before adding, “I also don’t want to move because of you. I want to leave because of that rather superbly horrid goose.”

—

“Yeah, no, you're great,” they reassured her. Any flirting, predictably, went over their head. Felix spent a long time being made to feel as though they should consider themself lucky that anyone wanted them at all. The idea of a stranger flirting with them felt a little preposterous. “The goose is less great. I'm not much of a goose fan. Zero out of ten on the goose, specifically.”

They were babbling. Going on and on, a little hysterically, about things that didn't much matter. It filled the silence, at least, and that was something.

But it didn't provide them with anything resembling an answer. 

It was jarring, having such little control. Sure, Felix lost control when the jaguar took his turn with their shared body, but it wasn't like this. This was something new, something unheard of, something terrifying. “I — I don't know. I don't know what we're supposed to do.”

—

“Never was a goose fan, and I’m becoming less and less of one with each passing moment.” They were a kind person, and they also certainly didn’t deserve to be attacked by a more aggressive than average goose. Not that there were many people who Xóchitl would’ve said did deserve to be attacked, there was something about the individual in front of her that screamed really super doesn’t deserve this more than for the average person.

Still, that didn’t solve the problem of the goose.

“And we can’t run, we’ve deduced that, so…” Xóchitl let her words trail off. “If we throw something at it? Well, not at it at it, but to distract it? Like I do with my dog for her own enjoyment. Do we think there’s any hope of that helping us out? Working in our favor?”

—

“Yeah, geese freak me out a little. Like, their teeth.” Felix remembered the first time they’d come upon the knowledge that geese had teeth. One of their siblings had so kindly shared a photo with them, and they’d been absolutely scarred for life as a result. They were pretty sure this goose, with its loud honks and its murderous eyes, had teeth that they really didn’t want to see.

They listened to the plan placed in front of them, nodding their head thoughtfully. “Oh! Yeah. Yeah, throwing something might help. Um, what do you have in your pockets? I’ve got…” They trailed off, digging a hand into their jeans. “A piece of linty cheese… a receipt… a couple nickels…”

—

“Yep. Hate that they have teeth.” Xóchitl winced. They were already a bird that she didn’t especially (or at all) enjoy, and to add teeth on top of all that was just too much. So to have a goose that was too big, wouldn’t leave them alone, and had teeth? Absolutely not how she wanted to spend her day.

“I mean, I have my phone and my keys. Not going to throw either of those, but I also have, well, admittedly, some treats for my dog…” which Xóchitl also didn’t especially want to waste, but if it got this stupid goddamn goose away, then it would be more than worthwhile. “Though the nickels might also work. Geese like shiny things… probably? Right?”

—

So their options were dog treats or nickels? Not ideal, but… maybe they could work with that. Felix fished the nickels from their pockets, squinting at them carefully. “Let’s start with the nickels,” he decided. “If those don’t work, then maybe we do the dog treats?” There weren’t a lot of options here, but that seemed like the best plan. 

Holding the nickel tightly, he closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay,” they murmured. Then, a little louder: “Okay! I’m going to throw it towards that way, away from both of us.” They motioned to their right, where some weeds were growing high enough that they hoped it would distract the bird. “Are you ready? I think — if it runs away, we move as soon as we feel like we can. And run in the opposite direction.”

—

“I appreciate your thoughts,” Xóchitl nodded, “because I was at a loss for which to start with.” That much was honest, because they deserved that. They seemed nice and they also seemed clueless, which certainly wasn’t the kindest thing to think, but so long as she kept it to herself she figured it was okay. At least relatively speaking.

She glanced to where he was pointing, before refocusing. “Yeah, that sounds good – and yes, I am ready.” Xóchitl planted the toe of her shoe against the ground. Waiting for them to throw it. “But let’s run together, just so we don’t get separated, just in case the goose-thing decides it doesn’t want to go after a nickel. Make sense?” She tensed her body. “Ready whenever you are.”

—

“Thanks,” Felix replied, smiling a little in spite of the situation. It was nice to be appreciated, to be told that their ideas weren’t terrible. They just hoped it was true. In a situation like this one, they weren’t sure they could afford to go with any bad ideas. The goose seemed fairly harmless — it was a goose, after all — but they knew better than to underestimate anything in Wicked’s Rest.

When Xóchitl confirmed she was ready, Felix took a deep breath. “Together,” he agreed. Then, they closed their eyes. “One… two… three!” As hard as he could, Felix tossed the coin. Thankfully, the goose did seem interested in it. It turned towards the gleaming metal, and after a moment, the feeling returned to Felix’s legs. “Come on!” They shouted, reaching out to grab Xóchitl by the shoulder and tugging her in the opposite direction.

—

“Of course!” Xóchitl responded, trying to make herself seem as non-threatening as possible. She didn’t consider herself super threatening in general, but she figured someone like Felix probably could do with an extra dose of ‘not being threatening’, as it were.

She readily followed them, and even once they weren’t that far away, the grating and honking sounds seemed to die down. “It – does it sound better to you, too, or am I just being way too optimistic?” Xóchitl didn’t think she was, but she also hadn’t ever seen a breed of goose like that before. So extra checking was, in fact, needed for this case.

—

It did sound better, though Felix wasn’t the best person to ask if you were worried you were being too optimistic. Their habit of looking at the glass as half full had certainly gotten them into trouble in the past, but… this time was probably different, right? The honking didn’t sound quite so honking anymore, so maybe they were in the clear.

The fact that they were able to move seemed to add to that theory, and they already felt better with some distance between them and the goose. Their shoulders slumped in quiet relief, and they nodded their head. “It sounds better,” they agreed, “but I think we should get out of here. Um, like, as far away as possible. Right? So the goose doesn’t chase us.”

—

“Yeah, don’t want to deal with being chased by… that.” She let her voice trail off. Because that wasn’t how things worked and absolutely wasn’t the way that she planned to spend her day. Plus, agreeing with the other person seemed to be the way to go, given how nervous they seemed. Xóchitl didn’t want to further contribute to what was likely already a fairly intense case of anxiety. That wasn’t going to help either of them whatsoever. 

“Do you have a car? I can drive you to wherever you need to be, just so our… guest doesn’t cause you any further trouble.” Again, she didn’t know what this goose thing was but she did know that she didn’t want to be around it and didn’t want her companion to suffer any more than they already were.

—

“I have a truck!” Felix replied excitedly, trying to reel themself in, to make their voice quiet enough that the creature before them wouldn’t hear it and decide to follow. “But, um, I parked a ways away, so maybe you can give me a ride to it? And I can buy you lunch!” They felt like they owed her. “What do you say?”

—

“I’d be happy to give you a ride, of course.” Xóchitl smiled at Felix. They certainly were excitable, and though she’d hazard a guess that a good part of it came from nerves, there was also something incredibly charming about how excited they could get. “You don’t have to buy me lunch, I’d do this just because, but I am hungry. What were you craving?”

—

Van bit down on the inside of her cheek, shooting furtive glances over her shoulder. The woman behind the counter eyed her from behind the book she was reading, eyebrows pulled together in suspicion. This was so stupid. She wasn’t even… what was it, a spellcaster? A magician? A witch? She just had magic. It was an inherent and unfortunate part of her. It was something she didn’t mind the thought of getting rid of, but she didn’t know how. She figured Like a Charm might be the best place to find that information, but for the most part, she wasn’t finding anything that would aid her in her desperation. She thumbed through a couple of different tarot decks, not able to make sense of any of the symbols or images. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t… somebody who would take to this, she was something else entirely. 

A nervous sweat beaded across the back of her neck as she tried to tuck tail and run, but instead of making it through the door, she was slamming into a girl quite a bit taller than herself. Something from the other woman’s hands fell to the ground, and Van dropped into a kneeling position to pick it up. It was a number of herbs, as well as a book that Van couldn’t read the title of. “Sorry– I, sorry.” She gathered the items, straightening up as she shoved them towards the girl, gaze fixed on her own hands and how they shook slightly. 

Like a Charm seemed like an absolutely kitschy sort of place – or maybe that was just Mahuika’s good views manifesting themselves. Though she knew that she was right at least to some degree, because some of the things in the shop were absolute junk. Still, she wasn’t going to say that out loud (at least not while she was in the shop), and maybe there was something of use here.

Correct, there were many somethings of use here, and she was totally shopping local, which made her a totally good person, right? Mahuika knew it did, and being in a place dedicated to the appreciation of magic was always good in her book. A place that showed just how better those with magic were. How much more deserving of… everything. 

She’d collected some herbs and a book, though those items had suddenly found themselves on the ground and someone else was in front of her and apologizing and Mahuika grinned, giving a shake of her head. “No worries, I was in your way. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” If the girl wasn’t magic, then she’d have a few other things to work through, but she figured that she should just go ahead and try optimism for the heck of it, at least in this particular moment. “Are you okay? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything like that.”

Van wasn’t sure that was right– she had definitely run into the girl. She resituated the items so that they didn’t fall out of the girl’s hands again and she wiped her palms against her sweatshirt. “What? No, I’m totally fine.” She offered a weak smile. She was trying hard not to look at the items that the girl had, mostly because that was rude, but she was never good at minding her own business. Ever. 

Finally, her gaze dragged down and she took note of the herbs, of the book. “You’re really going to buy that stuff?” Was she just some girl, looking to grow a garden, or was this something else? “I mean– sorry, that’s not the right question.” She felt heat rise to the back of her neck again. “I was just wondering. This is my first time here, and I don’t really know what I’m looking at, and honestly I just thought it was a place for tourists.” She kept her voice low as she spoke, as to not offend the clerk who was shelving items across the store. 

“Yeah, I am really going to buy all this.” Mahuika did her best to keep her expression light – curious – neutral. Any number of good things because pissing everyone she met off was simply not it. Even if a part of her wanted that to be it, but she’d learned through enough trial and error that being nice and pleasant got her what she wanted most of the time. That was – whenever she wasn’t getting what she wanted through her more preferred means of such eventualities. 

“I think some of it is for sure for tourists.” Mahuika nodded toward a deck of mass-produced tarot cards by the front. “But some of it’s legit. Because magic is legit.” She couldn’t help but scrunch up her face ever-so-slightly, ready to duck out or duck somewhere if the girl made fun of her. There was still a bitterness about the possibility of that, but Mahuika liked to avoid thinking about that whenever possible. Besides, she could deal with this girl if she did decide that Mahuika was full of it. “Do you want … help … knowing what you’re looking at?”

“You must be like, rich or something.” Van had no clue how much everything cost, there weren’t really any price tags for her to snoop on. “Sorry– or you’re just really good at managing your money? I mean, I’m like, not. At all.” She bit the inside of her cheek, sending an apologetic glance towards the brunette. God, she was terrible at communication. 

Van’s gaze swept over the goods stacked into the shelves, a minor chill running down her spine at the mention of magic, and how it was legit. It was weird, hearing other people discuss it so nonchalantly. She’d been hiding from it her whole life, and now, she was in public discussing– or rather, being talked at about magic. She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat. “Um… I don’t… really know what I’m looking for? This is my first time in a place like this.” She looked at the girl with a pleading expression, as if begging her not to tell her this wasn’t her place. It had to be. Where else was there? 

“I don’t… I’m not familiar with like, any of this stuff.” How dangerous was it to come clean to somebody else who also believed in magic? Probably dangerous. Van forced her gaze to not linger on the brunette for too long. “What do you… recommend? What are your favorites?” Was she even going to be able to afford it? 

“I’m not.” Which was probably something too blunt and personal or whatever, but it was true. She was working at Bearcliff to make money, not because she was some fancy hotshot princess (well, she was one of those things) who wanted to know what normal life was like. Mahuika’s nose threatened to scrunch up into something resembling disgust but she flipped it around and grin. “No, o-m-g. I’m really not. I guess I’m good?” She shrugged. 

“Your first time?” Now Mahuika’s grin was far more real. Which was incredibly rare, but her smile nearly reached her eyes. “Let me help you! If that’s okay, because I’m a stranger?” She’d already decided that she was going to help, but the girl didn’t need to know that. The girl who she very much hoped was not some freakish magic witch-spellcaster murderer. But if she was, the Mahuika would just deal with that. She didn’t go around without physical items for self defense.

“Well, it depends on what you want to do with it. It’s not like you can get one crystal or one paper — and it’s also about laws, and what the person intends to do as their magic.” This girl better not up and try to steal her thunder, Mahuika thought. But she desperately wanted to know someone else magic, and this girl looked like she needed help, so it could be a double win. A new magic-user to know, and a charity case to work on. “Do you have any clue about any of that? Or we could just take a walk around? Just get comfortable vibing with the place?”

Van eyed the girl apprehensively as if willing some kind of mask to fall away from her face, to reveal her true intentions. But there was nothing– she seemed nice, seemed like she wanted to help in the way that Van so obviously needed. She tucked her balled up hands into her sweatshirt pockets and bit the inside of her cheek as she nodded, a little too pathetically for her own good. “I mean, like I’m old enough to know not to talk to strangers, but this is like, super public and you seem to know what you’re doing.” Van wasn’t really afraid of what might happen here, mostly because she could run away if needed. It wasn’t like they were secluded and alone. 

The stranger was discussing laws and about what she intended to do with her magic, and Van had to stop herself from telling the brunette that the only thing she’d done with her magic was kill people and melt tables. “I– no, I don’t know anything about… are there like, magic lawyers and stuff?” Was she being secretly watched by some kind of witch-y unity circle? Did they know everything bad she’d ever done? Was this girl here to make her pay? Van’s mind ran wild with the scenario and a small sweat broke out across the back of her neck as she considered the possibility. 

“To be fair, I think even some eight-year-olds have that sense.” Mahuika offered the girl a small smile. “But I get that – and you’re right. But this is public, and I wouldn’t ever hurt you.” Assuming, of course, that this girl was also a magic-user. Which was a bit of a gamble, but Mahuika liked to think she had a good read on people. Though there was little that she wouldn’t think she was good at. It just meant that she had really super solid self-confidence. Obviously. Some might have seen it as being overly self-important, but she didn’t, and that was clearly what mattered most.

“Also yes, I do know what I’m doing.” She grinned. “Oh, not laws like that. Laws like…” Mahuika paused, trying to think of a way to explain it without scaring her off. “There’s things that balance the world, and magic plays a role in that. I don’t want to overwhelm you. But you’re not like, in trouble. Fuck the law, right? Human law, I mean. Not the magic law. That is actually important.”

I wouldn’t ever hurt you. Van had to keep herself from telling the girl that sure, that’s what somebody who wanted to hurt somebody would say, but because this wasn’t some low budget horror film, Van kept her mouth shut. She gave a small nod, not sure what else to say to that. Was she supposed to tell the brunette that she wouldn’t hurt her either? Was that more menacing than anything? Probably, right? 

Balance. Yeah, that was the word– that made more sense than the idea that there was some kind of witch institute teaching magic users how to be lawyers or something. “Oh… balance. Right, okay.” There was not really any balance within her own realm of experiences, she realized. Everything felt severely out of balance. “Yeah, fuck the law. Not… magic law, I guess.” Van kept her voice low, despite the fact that they were in a like minded shop. For all she knew, these could be fake people with fake things to say about magic. But then why would somebody who said she knew about magic be here? Was she fake, too?

Van’s mind ran away with the limitless possibilities, uncertainty clouding her expression. “So you… you know a lot about like, all of this?” It was so unfair, she thought. To have been taught nothing; to have existed in this without really knowing what was happening to her. Why had other people gotten lucky enough to know what they were? 

“See? We’re already on the same page!” Mahuika resisted wrapping her arm around the girl, because that wasn’t good to do without asking and the last thing she wanted right now was to scare the girl off. That wouldn’t do anybody any sort of good anything. Especially because for all that it was absolutely a terrible idea, she already found herself drawn in by the other (assumed) spellcaster. If she could get her hands on someone who was confused and new to all of this, and help them become what they deserved, then that would be all kinds of absolutely perfect.

“I do know a lot. I grew up knowing.” She forced herself to frown, just slightly. Except that the pity she felt for the girl was so real that it was almost tangible. Which was not great (the pity, the loss of time being with magic that the other girl clearly had), but at the same time, worked out absolutely perfectly, just as she’d intended for it to. Mahuika nodded. “I got lucky, but I can help you, if you want. I’d love to help. Teach you whatever I can. I’ll even buy us snacks or lunch or dinner or whatever – and I can be free pretty much whenever works for you. How does that sound?”

Van should have been jumping with joy at the sight of another magic user. Between this girl and the shopkeeper at the Sugar Pot, Van should’ve been expressing immense gratitude, but all she could feel was… well, she wasn’t sure what she felt, but it wasn’t really anything good. Van stared at the brunette, mouth slightly ajar. 

“I’m– I don’t know what you’re supposed to like, teach me.” She was recoiling from the help being extended to her again. Even when it came to Teddy, all Van had taken was the ring. The ring that sat heavy in her pocket, unused, because maybe she didn’t want– she wasn’t sure what she didn’t want, and she wasn’t sure what she did want. She took a small step back from the girl across from her, clearing her throat. “I’m– um, I don’t… really know what I’m supposed to be learning.” A small, nervous laugh escaped her as she clasped her hands together, eyes darting around the room. “I just sort of like, walked in here, you know?” This was all too real– the idea that somebody could help her– or a few somebody’s.. no, she couldn’t take up their time. “I’m sorry for wasting– um, your  time.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ll learn what you’re meant to learn, all in time. You walked in here and that means something, and I’ll be here for you, alright?” God, she needed to chill with the altruism. But, Mahuika supposed, it wasn’t so bad to be helpful when you were helping another spellcaster. At least this way this girl wouldn’t end up kidnapped or dead. Hopefully.