#shallowmagics

@shallowmagics​

Penelope felt a little like she and her friends were researching everything at this point. There were always stacks of books on the kitchen table and endless lists scrawled on the chalkboard wall (which, no lie, she was a little in love with). There were moments when she felt they weren't getting anywhere with it, despite all their effort, but she didn't default on pessimism. They'd learned a lot. She wasn't sure how helpful it all was, but if she looked at it as purely a learning exercise, then it was undoubtedly a success.

Researching the different kinds of supernatural in town was part of their on-going project. She would be the first to admit that she wasn't the best choice for interviewing, certainly not as good as Shepard or even Baz, who could be very charming when they wanted to be, but that was something she needed to work on. When it came to researching the local coven, sending a fellow magick-user seemed wise. In her experience, mages were vigilant about guarding their secrets from Normals. She was one of them, after all.

After a morning shift at the coffee shop, she headed to the Town Hall with a couple drinks and a lot of questions. Since she started working there, it was her new strategy to come prepared with delectable, sugary drinks in tow because just about everyone responded better to nosy questions with caffeine in them. And also she needed the practice making them.

She'd wandered around for a bit and still wasn't sure she was in the right place. For a public service building, she thought it seemed purposely designed to confuse at times. She thought she was in the right department, but there was a distinct lack of signs or other humans, so she decided to just approach the next person she saw. "Hi. I'm looking for James Potter. Do you know where I can find him?" Yes, after meeting Remus Lupin, it had occurred to her that it might be that James Potter, but she was jumping to no conclusions. Yet.

@shallowmagics​

Things were getting weird at the old cathedral. Jesus hiked out there at least a couple times a week, partly for the exercise and partly just to settle his mind on the matter. The revenants were the closest thing the town had to the zombies of his world, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't think there was a way to make zombie apocalypse worse, but zombie apocalypse in this town, where no one could leave? Let's just say he'd had more than a few nightmares about it.

It was hard to place exactly what had gone stranger about the place as the holidays approached. He'd heard rumors that the vampires liked it, but he'd yet to meet one out there personally. (Other places in town, sure, but not there specifically.) He sometimes used the revenants for target practice, but since he wasn't sure exactly what was going on, he didn't want to risk riling them up further. Instead, he found a high place to perch and just observed. He could hear someone approaching before he saw them, and he made sure to shift in place and make some noise before he spoke so they wouldn't startle. "Hi. You look like you're looking for something."

Not being able to get drunk was an unfortunate side effect of the serum. Steve couldn't very well begrudge that after everything else it had done for him, but it would have been nice to take the edge off now and then, particularly when the sleepless nights started to pile up. It was just as well, as drinking wasn't a helpful response to PTSD, nightmares, or insomnia. They were all better than they used to be--better than they'd been a year ago, when he'd managed to stay in one place for more than six months at a time and realized that meant all the trauma he'd been ignoring had a chance to catch up with him.

He'd stepped into the White Rabbit mainly to avoid wandering aimlessly around town, and because it was one of the only places open at this hour. Two drinks in, he was thinking maybe the garage would have been a better choice. The tables full of rowdy drunks only brought back memories of at least two other lifetimes, and it didn't do any good to dwell on that. He'd been eyeing an argument nearby that looked like it was about to come to blows, but it was resolved with another round of shots. A small bit of tension ran out of him, and he turned his attention back to his own drink, finishing off what was left in the glass.

@shallowmagics​

Penelope's first priority in this weird disaster wasn't tracking down dragons (or whoever had been foolish enough to bother them) or town reconstruction but in checking in on her friends and making sure they were okay. Something about being snapped across the world with only a handful of people from home after a disastrous American road trip had brought out the protective side in her. It was the same instinct that had pushed for all of them to live together, with Shepard in the driveway. She just felt better when they were all together and she could see for herself that they were safe.

Plus, if she knew Shepard, then he was working way too hard through all of this. There were downsides to being friends with absolutely everyone, Penelope had always felt, even back when it was Simon who was friendly with half of Watford. On a practical level, it was just impossible to be responsible to that many people. She knew she wouldn't be able to talk him out of running himself ragged to help out at the hospital, but she could do the next best thing and support him in his noble but misguided effort.

She'd texted ahead to let him know she was coming, but the place was swarming with people and her confidence wasn't high about finding him quickly in it. She had a bag of sandwiches and a tray of drinks from the cafe (all made by her--she was pretty proud), and no hand free to text him again and let him know she was here. "Shepard?" she called out, standing on her toes to try to see over the people in front of her, which helped not at all.

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