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A cloud of smoke is blown her way- sharp teeth glinting in a smile so white and bright. Nanites buzz around them both as they continue to exude from their skin, their very being.

“….Can’t seem to quit smoking, s’a bad habit- you know.”

“I’d almost pity you if you had a vice I understood. That, however,” the assassin gestures vaguely at tendrils and nanites, “is just annoying.” 

Nope. He got her. It was a good joke. She breaks ever so slightly with a single puff of air, and a minuscule tugged corner of her lip. 

@advmiryo

“i’m pretty sure it was somewhere here…?” he mumbles to himself. it’s nearly 10pm and jinyoung is out in some deserted neighbourhood (what’s new?), tracking down some ghost that had gotten away during his exorcism. he groans, very tempted to just give up and go home. after all, he was tasked to exorcise the house and he did get rid of all the ghosts, just that one had escaped. so he technically completed his task, right? however, being the perfectionist he is, turning around and going home didn’t sit well with jinyoung.

counting on his senses, jinyoung navigates his way around the place. he can sense the presence of the ghost nearby and to his delight, the ghost seems to have stopped moving around. picking up the pace, he soon finds himself standing in front of a shabby looking building which he assumes is uninhabited. he can’t pick up the presence of human beings, only ghosts, and thank god his “shaman senses” tell him that the building doesn’t seem to be haunted. if not, he would definitely be on the way home right now. screw being perfect. heaving a sigh, he enters the building.

@gryffirene​

“you and i both know that i’m going to absolutely screw this up.” 

potions. oh, how he despises that class. there’s seriously no hope for kang hyunggu when it comes down to it. no matter how much irene tutors him, he still can’t seem to ever get anything right when he’s actually in lesson. it’s a known fact that the boy has caused plenty of explosions, much to his own embarrassment. if his father could see him now, he’d be hit with a wave of disappointment. his own son, terrible at potions, how is that possible? 

he continues to stare at the cauldron in front of him with dread visible in those dark brown eyes of his. 

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“Don’t leave me here alone!”

She followed him in long and graceful movements, scrambling up the staircase as she reached for the fleece material of his cardigan. Alarmed by the sudden overturn of her life, Effie blinked away the burning tears obscuring the blue light of her eyes. 

She had come home to find all of her things uprooted and moved into the dark of the basement. It was as if she had died and never known. As if her brother had placed her entire life in storage, ready to collect ample amounts of dust and debris- forgotten amidst the multitudes of boxes and books that had found their way into the bowels of their home. He was throwing her down here, too? What had she done?

“Stay here.” He persisted, pausing without opening the door before them at the very top of the stairs. She clung to him desperately, her trembling fingertips curling into the fabric as her tongue faltered and tripped over all of the questions simmering in her brain. What was going on? What had she done that had been so terrible that she deserved to be down here alone?

He had never treated her this way before. All her life, Effie had seen Suibhne as her protector. All they had ever had was each other, an orphaned pair blessed with a generous estate and some meager savings thanks to their lamentably deceased parents. Where many children would have floundered and failed to find footing amidst the crumbling foundation of their lives; Suibhne had remained collected- assembling one carefully practiced smile after another specifically for her. Had always encouraged her to pursue her interests. Had always been a fierce but lenient protector, looming behind her like the longest shadow at noon. 

Why was it now that he had decided to condemn her to the dark?

“I’m afraid! Talk to me! Let me come with you, I-”

Before she could finish her sentence, he had seized her by the waist- lurching her against the thick wall of his chest as she wormed around in his arms. Frantically, she writhed, panic settling into the very marrow of her bones as he lowered her to a seated position upon the plush lavender comforter adorning her bed, now a shadowed casket within the confines of the cellar.

“Listen to me-” “What’s happening!? Why are all of my things down here-” “Effie listen-” “What did I do? Why are you so upset with me? Sivvy I’m scared down here I can’t-” “It’s not safe right now! Listen to me!” He gave her one rattling shake, squeezing her upper arms painfully, trying to bring her attention to the wide concern of his dark eyes. She searched his expression for a lie, her lips pressing into a shaking frown- her rose-tinted cheeks burning anxiously as he smoothed the strands of ochre brown hair from her face, stroking the smooth curve of her jaw with the calloused surface of his thumb.

“There has been a revolt.” “A revolt...?” “There is a group, a resistance- the council is looking to erase people-” “They can’t do that-” “They can. Listen to me. There’s a new movement, a lot of people are upset... They’re forming groups to overthrow everything-” “Isn’t that good? Haven’t we always talked about that...” “What comes with the rebellion of a nation?” He watched her expectantly. Effie chewed the generous swell of her lower lip, anxiety painting her face a horrible portrait of fear and uncertainty. She looked up at him, jarred by the steady burn of his nervous glare. She had never seen him so afraid- the tenseness of his stooping figure as he angled his body, bent at the knee to reach her height to some small degree, brown eyes wide and impatient.  “Purging the leadership...” “And what happens when you piss off the leadership?” “I-” “People are going to die.” “I can help.” “Effie...” “I can help! I’m not useless! I can still do something-” “I’m going to take you somewhere safe, we’ll get you to a few friends with the resistance- you’re going to be fine.” “I’m not leaving you here alone.” “You can’t stay.” “I’m not leaving.”

Suibhne grunted irritably, leaning backward in exasperated frustration as Effie reached out to wrap the willowy lengths of her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into her with a tremulous whimper. He sighed, constricting the tiny expanse of her body within the crushing grip of his embrace, the jutting edge of his chin resting within the rich thicket of her crown. The foreboding sensation of not knowing; of wondering exactly what it was he was so afraid of... this quite possibly scared her the most. What was going to happen... what pandora’s box had been opened... what demons had come crawling out?

“Someone is coming for me. They’re going to want me to pick a side. I can’t have you here for that. We’re not giving them any leverage.” “Leverage, what leverage could they possibly- I’m gan-” “Some of them are going to see you as disposable, Effie- listen! Listen to what I’m saying; girls have gone missing- children are turning up missing. All of them. All of them gan.” Realization struck her like the blinding burn of a lightning bolt. The watery blue orbs of her eyes widened tearfully, her lips pursing open in disbelief as her fingers reached up to cover the growing gape of her mouth. She felt sick. Overwhelmed. The turning churn of her stomach twisting each neighboring organ into a knot. Hysterical dismay rested like a fine mist on her skin, raising an undead grave of gooseflesh over her skin as Suibhne clutched at her shivering limbs, trying to rub some strength into them as the clammy surface of her skin paled. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Kissing the dew-drop sweat of her forehead, Suibhne grasped the sides of her face, searching her for a shred of the courage she had mustered moments earlier.

Juliette trudged into her home, her sweater dragging behind her. This was routine for her almost everyday; Be seen with Matthias in the daylight, spend the night at his house - or wherever he decided to take her - and then come back home in the morning and try not to be seen by any paparazzi. Normally, she had the house to herself most of the morning. Having her family away gave her time to inspect the new bruises she had earned from the previous night in solitude.

But this day was different. She almost panicked when she noticed that most of the lights were on and she could even hear the low hum of the television in her living room. Doing her best to ignore this, she walked quietly up the winding stairs to her bedroom, hoping she would be able to finally sleep or maybe even read. As long as she could be alone, she would be happy. But as she neared her bedroom door, she could hear two familiar voices coming from inside. She pressed her ear to the wood so that they were made more clear to her.

"She looks like she fell off of her horse and was stomped on, Mrs. St. Pierre. She's good at hiding a lot of things, but not this. Not this time." She could hear one voice say to the other.

"Absurdité. Juliette est amende." The other voice challenged. 

Before she could stop herself, Tillie was opening her door, rushing in only to find her mother sitting on her bed and her maid standing near it. Her mother hadn't even looked at her before lifting her finger and motioning for Tillie to come closer. "Oh, Juliette. So enthralled that you're here," Her mother spoke dryly, almost in a sarcastic tone. "Asseyez-vous." 

Hearing her mother's voice was almost like hearing a stranger's. It felt as though she seldom saw her mother, and this was partly true. Cosette only came home to change clothes, it seemed. And while Juliette did see her mother in magazines constantly, it wasn't the same as seeing her in person. But nonetheless, Juliette did as she was told, her head hanging low, giving every attempt not to reveal too much of your face. "Ouai?" She asked softly. Her voice was slightly hoarse from screaming and crying from the night before.

"Zara here tells me you haven't been looking your best," she said sticking out her finger to lift Tillie's chin. The girl flinched at her mothers touch. Memories of what had happened made her jumpy and irritable, and it took almost all of her strength not to scream. Her mother noticed this, but decided to ignore it.

Juliette spoke in a whisper. "Well it's not my fault. H-He hurts me, maman. And I don't know wh-what to d-"

Cosette cut her off before she could finish her thought. "Juliette, I've told you this before; everyone gets angry sometimes. Stop upsetting him and maybe he won't make your lip bleed, non?"

Juliette looked at her mother with both confused and pleading eyes, but Cosette hardly noticed. When Tillie didn't respond, her mother spoke once more. "Juliette you will see him. You will, and you won't stop until I say so. And for Christ's sake, we're going to find someone who can actually cover these bruises because Auguste obviously isn't doing his job correctly. Do you know what they would say about us if they saw you like this? How could you be so reckless?" She shouted. The sudden rise in her voice made Tillie jump. "Si je peux intervient," Zara piped in from her spot by the bed. Cosette rolled her eyes and cut her off coldly."Non, vous ne pouvez pas." She waved a hand at the maid, but this did not stop her from speaking again. "Mais je pense que autre chose ne va pas avec son." 

Cosette opened her mouth to interrupt again, but stopped herself. Her brow furrowed, perplexed at the statement. "Que voulez-vous dire «autre chose»?" 

Tillie interjected before anyone was given the chance to speak. "Zara, n'en ont pas. S'il vous plaît." She begged her. She knew what was about to be said and she was internally praying that her mother wouldn't react in the way she thought she would. Cosette lifted her hands in the air out of frustration. "Dites-moi déjà!" she yelled. Tillie looked at Zara and the maid shot her an apologetic look before speaking again. "Just this week Juliette was - She had an episode. It happens so often, but she never remembers them." 

"What are you talking about?" Cosette demanded. 

Zara frowned."Out of nowhere she just - she screams. She throws things around, and cries. Wrecked the whole damn kitchen one time." She waited for one of the St. Pierres to say something, but when they didn't, she just continued. "Sometimes it happens during the day, other times at night. It takes five of us to shut her up on the really bad days, but if we touch her it makes things worse. It's like she blacks out and then we snap her out of it, and she's perfectly fine again. One time she called me Matthias and slapped me right there! It was the strangest thing. And she's so fidgety now too. I think it's because she...doesn't sleep."

Cosette turned to look at Tillie, obviously very annoyed. All the girl could do was lower her head forlornly.

Zara spoke up again, this time walking over to Tillie and lifting her alarmingly thin and bruised arm. "And you can't even tell me you don't notice how thin she is. Si je son touche, je peux son briser, vous savez?" She asked. Tillie lifted her head to look at Zara in the eyes. For the past nineteen years of her life she had grown closer to the maid than anyone else in her family. Her parents were always away, and her sisters found comfort in parties and older boys. Tillie had no choice but to gravitate towards the only person who showed her any ounce of love and concern. She had loved Zara like her own mother, but this felt like betrayal. It hurt her more than everything else she had been through, and it made hot tears spill from her eyes.

Cosette studied the two for a moment. She shrugged angrily. "Well what do you think we should do, hm? If she gets papped like this, I can't even imagine what would happen. Ce serait un cauchemar."

Zara listened, but disregarded the statement. She cared about Tillie's wellbeing more than anything else. "Mrs. St. Pierre, I think she has a serious problem. She needs to go to a doctor. A psychologist." Zara said. Tillie's eyes grew wide, and she almost stood up to protest. "Quoi? Non, Zara -" She tried to object, but was interrupted by her mother. "Well she can't go to one here. She'll be seen. And I can't let that happen." Cosette stood up from her spot on the bed and walked towards the door. She eyed Tillie sternly, lifting a finger to point at her. "You've caused enough trouble, and i'm going to stop this. What if you lash out on a pap in one of your 'blackouts', hm? Or an interviewer? What then? Mon dieu, and there's a rumor that Matthias doesn't want to be photographed with you anymore? Think of all the Duponds are doing for us, Juliette! You're destroying everything we worked for! I don't know what we're going to do with you, but -" She stopped herself, noticing she was now shouting, and didn't want to risk the neighbors hearing her. "We're going to get you fixed. Alright? Hopefully we'll get this done and over with in time for The Dupond's banquet, but i'm getting ahead of myself. Zara, I'll call you later about this - this mess. And you, Juliette - you just - try not to be so damn selfish in the meantime. Pouvez-vous gérer ca?"