#thirdnightsister

She tried to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from getting any wider than it already was. It wasn’t particularly unusual for them to enjoy themselves in various parties and situations, but this was certainly a first for her. Being summoned to Doran’s Gray Room to collect her wayward brother following some boy’s night.

Dorian just glance at her briefly as she came down the stairs to the room. It seemed her dear Agathos wasn’t the only one inebriated, there were several other young men around the room, most half-passed out. Her brother had tucked himself in a corner, the only outward signs of his drinking being the slight slouch in his posture and the fact that his eyes were closed. She crossed the room to him, making sure he could feel her presence through their connection before she reached out and brushed her fingers along his arm. “Come along, dear brother. It’s time to get you to bed.”

“Patience,” Agathos said very softly, with out opening his eyes, as he reached up to tug his dear sister down into his lap. “-is an asshole.”

His words were only slightly slurred, and he huffed, speaking solemnly and deliberately. He could already feel her mirth through their bond he wasn’t likely to open them and see her struggling not to laugh at him. Not that he minded, really but still-

“In my case? That’s… far out of your reach I suppose.”  Not exactly far, the right pressure in a few places, and Beck would be doing whatever she wanted. It simply was a matter of the correct words at the right time  or… forcing him to relive certain painful memories, but he doubted she was capable of that (but he’d been wrong before). “Let’s just say everyone has their little… pressure points.”

His lips pursed into a thin-line. “You’re just not going to find mine.”

Lilith’s eyes flickered over the witch, considering her. She knew what had happened of course, had learned all about it when she had been at the Spellmans, when they had been working on their plans to defeat Lucifer Morningstar...but she hadn’t really had time to think too much on it then. The idea of a priest, so determined to have his own way that he had poisoned an entire church, intending to kill every last one of them.

It was such a mortal thing to do, not worthy of a warlock at all, but then it was, in Lilith’s opinion, so very typical of a man. Any man. Mortal or warlock. 

He didn’t get what he wanted and instead of simply leaving, he had to destroy everything and everyone in his path, throwing himself a tantrum. The former priest should count himself lucky there was no Dark Lord to find him now....he never took well to people rebelling against his plans. But Lilith imagined he would not be so lucky in hiding from the daughter that now sought him out. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

“Well, we can’t let a little near death experience ruining our enjoyment of things.” Lilith told Abigail, the smile still present on her red lips, “Especially as I hear your sister is hunting the man down as we speak.....we can give her a little helping hand....” She suggested, head cocked to the side as she looked at Abigail curiously, engaging her with a look, “if you’d like...?”

@thirdnightsister

Zelda started, forced out of her reverie by the sudden appearance of Dorcas Night. If she’d had her wits about her, been running on anything other than black coffee and the energising tincture that Hilda had made for her without being asked, she would have sensed the girl coming a mile away. How the mighty have fallen, startled by a schoolgirl. 

“Don’t be foolish, child. Lilith knows, this house is hardly big enough for any reasonable expectation of solitude. Even in the middle of the night.” She paused awkwardly. Zelda might not have been working at her full speed, but she hadn’t missed the frown on Dorcas’s face. She was stuck, wanting to offer the younger woman some comfort but not quite knowing how. The more... pastoral aspects of her role as High Priestess were still somewhat eluding her. 

     With most of the ailed witches and warlocks heading home to their families, the Spellman house felt a little empty. Most could move back home whilst Zelda and Hilda worked out what to do next. They had the chance to recover with family or close friends... But one particular red-head stood out. One who couldn’t head home to parents or other family members. And not having parents was something the two young girls had in common. So why not try mend the scorched bridges? 

    After all, Dorcas had helped her with that one challenge during the race for Head Boy, didn’t she? Perhaps there was still a chance a relationship of some sort could be salvaged from the burning wreckage. 

    “Dorcas?” Her soft voice filled the quiet reading nook; “I figured you may want to take a bath or change... I found some clothes you can borrow til - y’know, you feel up to sorting that stuff out.” 

It really was rather impressive how adult the little girl was. And almost a little sad, too. So much expectation laid upon her shoulders. It had been a long time since she had been that young, and she hadn’t had that sort of pressure on her. No, she’d had a whole mess of different ones, but that wasn’t the point.

“This has nothing to do with harrowing,” she answered, her voice patient. “If you don’t want anything to do with it, then run along. But I better not find out that you told anyone about this.”

Emilia could have walked away, and yet she felt this was a test to see just how ruthless she could be. Not staying around and she was sure to once more be labeled a baby, a title she had tried to break by joining the resurrection of Tommy Kinkle, a plan to prove her worth which only ended up backfiring later. The last time she had stayed from the rules, it was during a time of confusion where her identity seemed unclear. She had no excuse now except pure hubris. She knew she had to be careful with keeping herself on the correct path.