the late ≽·≼ kaye james

They shrugged. "Perhaps. I mean, I'm not sure that if the other shoe drops, that's the end of the trouble either, maybe it's not a pair of shoes at all, maybe it's..." They waved a hand. "Endless shoes?" That seemed even more bleak. "But some people claim there's more to life than the hard times," Kaye offered, a sincere attempt at a silver lining when they personally, were not a believer. "And pessimism makes for terrible dinner conversations, so." Primly folding their hands in their lap, they stared at an upset stack of paperbacks and tried not to disassociate. "Mm. I was forcibly British for a time. It was bad." They blinked, and looked at Daniel, startled by the compliment. "Oh. Thank you." She nodded. "I think I am, too." They nodded curtly. "And you seem nice. Your shop is usually very well organized." This was the highest compliment they could give, with complete sincerity. Shaking their head, they frowned. "No, I've been working on Ken and Leyla's wedding clothes, it doesn't leave time for gossip." They tapped a finger on their lip. "Maybe I can gossip at the wedding itself? Or do you think that would be rude? What do people normally talk about at weddings?"

God, this really sucked. Of course she'd get stuck with the ability that could make a real mess out of things. Granted, maybe an owl that she didn't have control over would probably suck, too, but it wouldn't be as bad as this. "He, uh, he doesn't exist. When I'm not using him." Because he was an extension of her sense of self. But it always felt like more than that. Percy, seeing ghosts, it was like being a witch had given Margo built in friends. Maybe that was why she was so awkward with everyone else.

"Uh, I don't know. I don't know where she is." Margo flinched. "I mean, like, technology isn't just electronics. It's objects that basically use scientific practices to work. Equipment, machinery, things with moving parts. That's technology." So she wasn't sure if she'd manage on a bike. She supposed she could just run. Maybe hope the drones followed her away from all the noise.

The conclusion that Kaye was coming to, long suspected but now confirmed, was that witches were not her cup of tea. They squinted at 'doesn't exist' and then let out a breath of frustration at the assertion that a bicycle was also, somehow, going to be the enemy in this situation. Or maybe it wasn't a witch thing at all, maybe it was just that they felt too out of their element, and too old for this shit, and had to take a breath. "Okay, right. So... there's probably no escape from the tech then, if you've gotta be wary of things like, gears and the friggin' wheel and fountain pens and shit. Could we just... stick you somewhere safe and wait it out? If the drones and everything keep going off no matter what, maybe it's best to just let them. What's the worst that could happen if we just, like, stick you in a box or something?" they asked, with an optimism they didn't feel.

"Hide," they agreed, while inside the question rang unasked, fucking where? In a different life, one far from their own, Kaye could imagine trying to face down a stranger, protect both of them somehow like so many people in this town seemed to do. But in this reality, small and ill equipped to deal with violence, hiding was maybe all they could rely on. Kaye took the initiative, still holding Cass's arm, and tried to move away from the hunter. Even if she could pass for human right now, Cassandra definitely couldn't. "Okay... okay... parking lot, maybe? I've never stolen a car but there's a first time for everything, right? Even if we can't get something going we could at least hide inside." Their voice came out as a soft growl, the echo of Cass's own. They wondered how quickly they could google a youtube video on lockpicking a car door. If mimicry was all they had at their disposal, might as well try to use it.

Never one for idle hands, they scooped up some fallen volumes from the ground, checking them over for damages and separating out those with torn covers or pages as they spoke. "Could, and probably will, if the past few years are any indication. I'm... still pretty shaken, honestly." They glanced over his way. "I've always been reliant on my abilities, and to have them stripped away like that... Let's just say, I'll feel better doing my grocery shopping invisibly this week." They shivered a little. "Plus, I was stuck mimicking everyone I got within arms reach. After all the hard work I put into becoming the person I am, too, its at least affirming that I don't wish to be anyone else, for a while." It seemed probable that most fae had some kind of recurring personality crisis, with the regeneration and past lives that came along with their species, but Kaye felt even more protective of their own existence than ever. "Have you heard any rumors about what might've caused all that?"

"I-- I mean, I can talk to ghosts, but that's not working right now!" Margo yelped. She was a witch, yes, but she was also pretty certain that was probably clear. "Usually it's not making robots go haywire! I can control technology, but-- I mean-- And now! The owl is my familiar!" He was just her friend, and she missed him. She figured things would be a little calmer with him around. "Please don't knock me out!" Margo yelled back. That sounded like a horrible idea, she really didn't want to do that if she could help it.

"I don't want to kill anybody with it, either! That'd really suck!" Margo said. And she felt a little guilty. She felt a lot guilty, actually, but she figured that that was tied in with a whole mess of things. Margo didn't think she would have signed that note if she'd known that she'd be doing something like this. She thought she was signing up for self-inflicted experimentation, not townwide. "I'm sorry! I really don't want to ruin your stress relief day. If I could make them go away, I swear I would. But-- but if you knock me out, what if that just makes things worse?"

They had their hands clapped over their ears, but it did nothing to block out the panic they felt themself, and it barely helped with the noise and confusion. "Okay, think, think, think— I don't have any fae ability except mimicry, maybe it's the same for you? If he's a familiar, maybe he's just... wherever familiars go when you're not using them, is that a thing?" It wasn't something they'd ever considered, really, but they suddenly had the terrifying notion of a bunch of dis-animated familiars stuffed into closets and sock drawers.

Kaye didn't see how being unconscious could make things worse, but they weren't very assured of their ability to actually knock anyone out either, so it didn't seem like something worth arguing over. "Well I don't know enough about witchcraft to really help you, where's your Supreme, can she do something?" They wracked their mind for anywhere devoid of technology that was accessible, and came up with nothing. "Or should we just find you like, a bicycle, and you can try riding into the middle of nowhere?"

Things were out of control—and Cassandra Lin did not like feeling out of control. At least, that is, in a way she did not cause herself. The moment she felt her nails and canines lengthening, the bones and muscles of her face shifting to accommodate something more primal, more monstrous, she knew something was most undeniably wrong. Cassandra didn't like to half-shift if she could help it; she didn't like the feeling of hair—fur—sprouting from places it shouldn't, or teeth too big for her mouth, or claws that would rend her fashionable clothing to tatters if she wasn't careful, much less her own skin. Control over that aspect of her abilities took blood, sweat, and tears, and she was not pleased at that control being severed.

But it seemed she was not the only one to be losing control over their more magical faculties; around her were wolves in various stages of shifting, vines bursting forth from the ground and toppling structures or tripping fleeing festival-goers, lightning striking indiscriminately, and suddenly portals with equally confused and fearful individuals passing through—and some that seemed downright threatening. A rushing body knocked into Cassandra's shoulder, causing her to let out an oof that tapered off in a displeased growl. “Watsch it.” Sharpened canines garbled her speech as she went to reach out to steady the other, only stopping short to keep her claws from slicing them with a curse. “You oh-kay?”

option b:

“Oh God, oh God, oh God–” The words were an anxious chant under her breath as Laurel tried valiantly to dodge incoming bodies, weaving through the sea of strangers fleeing the campground. Each step she took, vines and brambles and long, tendril-like grass grew to snag and catch unwitting individuals. “Shit– sorry!” She called as she saw one of her vines succeed, a poor soul getting their ankle caught and falling hard in the dirt. Laurel made an anxious sound in the back of her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before finally backpedaling and helping the other to their feet. “I'm not doing it on purpose, I swear.”

≽·≼

Kaye had been floating on a heady cocktail of emotions, but when the chaos broke out, they found their previous elation swept away like so much debris in a flood. On top of that, they couldn't get their wings to come out, or activate their invisibility, none of it. Panic surged up in their chest, and they tried to get away from the crowd before it became incapacitating, only to collide with someone and be knocked down. Her eyes grew wide as she recognized Cassandra, her normally striking features half-hidden under thick fur. Instinctively, she drew closer to the werewolf, who was still taller and a lot more imposing than the tiny pixie, but stopped as she saw the claws. "Cass—mmph—" They were cut off when another person in the crowd shoved by them, and Kaye was horrified to see they held a wicked-looking knife in one hand, gripped with clear intention and practised ease. "Hunter," they whispered, grabbing Cassandra by the elbow and shrinking beside her, trying to pull her away and hide at the same time.

It was not a shock to anyone that Daniel Riley spent most of his time at his bookstore. The last bookstore he owed the man had made it a mission for the shop to be his safe haven. For a few years it had been until that fateful Valentine's day. With New Leaf, his continued that promise, knowing in his soul that the chances of this once actually being safer were higher. The store was not safe from the chaos that had endued. Thankfully, the damage was minimal. It was mostly scattered books and torn pages. A few furniture pieces may need to be replaced but it was nothing too serious. currently, daniel was putting away newer books on the shelves when he heard the front door bell ring. "Oh, sorry we're closed." he paused, realizing his answer was short. "We're closed for the day due to ... mess. we'll be open tomorrow."

Kaye pushed open the door and smiled a little when they heard Daniel's response from inside. "It's just Kaye," they called, then poked their head in. "I saw the sign, but I wanted to check on you." Although their fondness was a little stiff and professional, they did have a soft spot for other shopkeepers in town. And the bookshop was quiet, well-maintained—usually. They glanced about at the disarray and gave a small noise of disapproval, before looking at Daniel. "So they did get in here? I need to give you the number of the person who did the security shutters up at Blush, I asked them to make it a fortress and so far, so good." Stepping delicately past an upended pile of books, they bent to pick up a few volumes. "Are you alright?"

"Sorry!" Margo yelled. "So, so sorry. I can't-- I can't control any of it!" It was actually pretty incredible, all of the things that qualified as technology, all of the things that Margo usually had control over. All of the things that refused to listen to her now. Somewhere near by, an engine revved, causing her to yelp and cover her ears.

"Yes, yes, an owl. He's about the size of my hand, very regal looking, answers to Percy or Percival..." Margo trailed off because, in truth, she knew that Percy was just gone, at least for the time being, just like the rest of her magic. Except for the abilities that brought the microphone to life, amplifying both of their voices and causing an obnoxious amount of feedback that could be heard even over the music. Margo flinched again. "Not a hunter! And, yes, yes to both! Unfortunately. I-- I can't control it. I've lost most of my magic, and the rest of it I've lost control of."

Kaye had clapped their hands over their ears, trying to understand in the chaos what exactly was going on, but from the stranger's behavior it was hard to clock it. "What is this, like, poltergeist powers? You're a witch, aren't you?" They didn't know how to control witch powers, there was enough of a divide between the species that they didn't know what experience was the same from fae to witches. "What stops you from doing stuff normally? Is that what the owl's for?" The music hit a high point and a car engine nearly drowned them out, but as the microphone malfunctioned it made their words deafening— "DO I HAVE TO KNOCK YOU OUT??"

There wasn't really a way they knew to do that, aside from blunt force, but they'd already dropped the mic stand when she'd said she wasn't a hunter. It was extreme, maybe, but they weren't above smothering someone and sorting it out a real solution later on. Kaye looked around for a pillow, the classic smotherer's weapon, but came up with nothing. "Listen, okay! I'm not getting killed by a drone or-or a ghost, or a robot or whatever, not today. This was supposed to be my stress relief day, and it's not working out like I planned, at all."

Settling down, he nodded. "I don't have much of a record, hoping to keep it that way." Though he knew he could rely on himself if necessary, he was still mortal and brushing with death again was something he wanted to avoid, especially now.

"You're right, you shouldn't." Kaye's cheeks burned and they tried not to look at Dhruv as he laughed. It probably was ridiculous, but they were proud and already uncomfortable without their usual abilities to escape from danger. However funny it might be in another context, the threats around them were too immediate, the memories of their previous deaths too real, for them to take it lightly. Not to mention, needing to rely on someone else for protection was only a pragmatic solution, not a preferred one.

They pulled their arms closer around themself, turning in a half circle like somewhere else would jump out as a source of safety or comfort, but the truth was, they didn't venture that far from the shop most days. Shadow Lake was pretty far from the top of their preferred locations. "Your flat? You got like, a panic room or weapons or something?" they asked, skeptical but hopeful. He'd been kidnapped after all, so maybe he'd put in some kind of anti-abduction measures or something of the sort.

Something in what they said struck, and thoughts spilled out as a question without having an intention to pry. "Again?" Sighing a little, he looked around. "If you got a bright idea, I'll oblige. Shit's gone to shambles already, so no, it'd be nice if you weren't dead. Heading to any particular place? I'll get you there safe. Cross my heart."

"I dunno, getting my powers wiped for starters? And then there's hunters popping in, once again?" She met his glare with one of her own, hands on hips and disapproval ringing loud. "I'm not English, you ponce, I'm a pixie and my mimicry's gone tits up, apparently. I'm stuck sounding like any belligerent twat who goes by. So if the accent's got you bothered, I'm afraid you've got to take that one up with yourself, love. Would hardly be my top choice."

They scowled, and began looking around for anyone else who looked decently large or imposing to swap him out for. "I don't exactly have a spotless record against hunters. Horrible's more like it." They glanced at Dhruv, and their demeanour softened a little. "I'd like to get home. Blush Boutique, in Celestial Hills. But I'll settle for getting somewhere I can wait this out. And," they admitted with a sigh, "I suppose I can try to be a little more pleasant about it, for the love I hold for your family, if you'll help me."

"No, no, this is the opposite of what I want! Go away!" Margo cried out as another drone swooped in, attacking her head. She yelped and back up into one of the tents at the festival. Rather unfortunately, it was one of the fancy ones, set up with lights and fans and really nice, high tech equipment. The sound system started blaring as she entered, and the lights flashes an assortment of colors like a pride flag. Great. She got it.

Margo stumbled back out, bumping into someone. "I'm so sorry," she breathed. "The drones are... they're fucking trying to kill me, I think. Or-- Powers. I don't have any control. Have you seen a little owl?" Margo knew he wasn't around because she couldn't feel him, but it was so strange to not have Percy near her that she felt like a piece of her was missing.

Kaye was mostly succeeding at hiding, even stuck flightless and visible. The tents in general had at least felt safer than being out in the middle of the chaos, an obvious target. But that illusion was shattered swiftly as the sound system in their hiding place turned on, and lights flashed in a psychedelic display that normally Kaye would think was pretty fun, and now, only registered as nightmarish. She jumped at the same time as someone bumped into her, falling back onto the ground and skittering away quickly. "Get back!" Their voice came out breathless, anxiety spiking, and they reached behind them to find some kind of weapon for self-defence if it was needed. Their brow knitted in confusion as they brandished a microphone stand defiantly, shuffling up to their feet cautiously. "An---an owl? No, I haven't seen an owl. You're—" The stranger's words caught up with their thoughts after a moment. "You're not a hunter?" Then, with further confusion. "I gotta worry about drones now, too? Oh, cool, yeah, great... Are you doing this?" They shouted over the sound of Dua Creepa's "Ghouldini", apparently turned up as high as it could go.

When claws came into view, Dhruv's stomach tightened with unease. He didn't do that willingly nor would he, especially not in the middle of this. His partial shift had caught him off guard, and that same unsettling feeling gripped him again as the town erupted into utter disarray. He couldn't shift back, rain hammered down, flames flickered, lightning tore through the sky, and once again it seemed that humans gained superpowers. Except this time Dhruv was around to properly see it. Fascination held its place, unable to rise as whatever fragile hold he had on himself slipped, the remnants falling to the damp ground in tatters much like the indiscernible object he had clenched in his fist. Scanning the surroundings for anything out of the ordinary proved nearly impossible since everything felt wrong. Still, he forced himself to look harder, mainly searching for signs of something even more wrong.

It seemed inevitable to bump into someone, yet a guttural growl still escaped him when he did. And thwarting instincts, Dhruv drew his hands close to his chest instead, wary of hurting them. "You alright, love?" he asked, voice rough, "Would offer a hand 'cept..." he held up his claws, shooting them a faint grimace, "Don't wanna hurt you."

No invisibility, no wings, no clever illusions to hide behind. A portal opened near them and a complete stranger stepped through, and she couldn't read anything about their mood, had no context to understand if they were friend or foe. It was the stuff of Kaye's literal nightmares—every shadowed New York alleyway, every corner of peaceful woodland in Lunar Cove. Places they'd walked safe and confident with their abilities, until the moment the hunters closed in on them. Until the moment that cold iron slid between their ribs, and all color drained away from the world.

Kaye felt so very, very small. Their hands clutched the handle of their parasol, decorated with flowers and hardly water proof, and they crouched, staring fixedly down at yet another pair of beautiful shoes, now covered in mud. Why did there always have to be mud, or fire, or rats? Was there no such thing as a good time, anymore? They longed for home, their shop and life protected behind three sets of security shutters and locks.

With nothing else at their disposal, Kaye began to run. Granted, they weren't a natural at it, but it was still a surprise when they smashed into someone really tall. “Do I look alright, mate?” They peered up at him, affronted. And British, apparently. “How about you use those bloody great paws of yours for something useful and get us out of here before I end up murdered again, yeah?”

He hummed softly. "That's quite a difference, yes. I believe those lie in Dilan's area, some in Rohan's too from my end, but event planning is more her territory. I offer my condolences...she's, well... a handful." Even without working with her directly, hoping he never had to, Ken already knew what Dilan was like. "But perhaps you both might work well together; she's been particular with her choices given that it's her sister's wedding, perfectionism is in play so maybe she'll notice such differences too. I'd prefer to avoid headaches wherever possible." Complete avoidance might be impossible given the guest list, but he brushed past that concern for now. "We'll fill you in on details as we plan things, if there's anything that you require just say the word."

Kaye waved off his polite concern. "You know the phrase, time is money?" Their eyes glittered with amusement. "I know you'll compensate me just fine for however many outfits we end up with. And happy commissions—especially wedding commissions? Are well worth the effort, even if I wasn't so fond of the couple in question." They nodded, not surprised at all that Dilan was handling that side of things. "I do know her style, this town doesn't have all too many pixies, you know," Kaye said. "And you're in good hands, she's done incredible work on the town events so I expect she'll be going all out for Leyla." They gathered up their notes and designs, before flipping to a new blank page. "Alright, I'll get in contact with her, but let's focus on your preferences, before we get too into the weeds. I already have a good idea what you like in terms of suits, but for a wedding, it's expected to be more detailed, more elaborate. I'm thinking fine lines where they won't be too ostentatious, the hems and cuffs especially, but also the lining. Have you chosen a date, yet? Weather and temperature matter—" They tapped their pencil on their lip thoughtfully. "And a location? Indoors, outdoors? I'll lean away from certain fabrics if you're going to end up sweating through it."

Lara was carefully quiet and considerate as she gave them time to look over their references and the photo that she'd brought. It was easy to observe as she took a seat, taking in the details of the room before focusing back on Kaye as they spoke. Giving a slow nod, Lara almost felt something similar to excitement. She felt touched. "You're willing to go through that much effort?" she asked, thinking about how nice it would be to have a piece of her first home, her first phase of life. "Some liberties are good. I would not be sitting here today if others hadn't taken liberties with me." If they hadn't thought to hire a woman, if they hadn't though to give her a chance when she was rough and half feral from her years in the wilderness. "This is agreeable. I trust your judgement. Your work speaks for itself from what I've seen in the windows of your shop, and I now know you're dedicated to your craft, which is appreciated. Measurements and then means of payment, yes?"

"It's what I do, this is the stuff I live for," Kaye said, without exaggeration or drama. "As much as seeing someone discover a pair of jeans or a blouse that compliments them does pay the bills, there's something special that occurs only when the clothes are more personal, made for one specific person or reason." She smiled, eyebrow raising slightly, and let out a little laugh. "Now what does that mean?" Kaye inquired, playfully curious, then their attention refocused, back to the job at hand. "Well, I appreciate a fine eye for quality," they returned. "Yes, do you mind a measurement by hand?" They withdrew a measuring tape and small notebook from the pocket of their apron. "If you'd rather I not get in your space, I can use illusion magic to do it, but it's usually quicker and more accurate with the physical tape. Your comfort comes first, however, it's no difficulty for me either way."

"I do," Kaye said, simply preening under the appreciation. "I've actually been playing with some summer alternatives, your timing couldn't be better. Mostly two piece ensembles, something a little interchangeable whether you want to pair with a variety of bottoms. And some that are just... I wouldn't call them summer dresses so much as a revolt against pants, in general. A lot can be adapted for the rodeo, but honestly do we want something we only wear once?" Arriving in the atelier, they ducked into the second row of shelves at the back of the room, and emerged carrying a heavy armful of carefully pinned patterns, notebooks, and began laying them out on the tables, as well as wheeling out several of the dress dummies that were partially draped in fabrics and pins. "You poke through those and see if anything catches your eye—" They did an about face and zipped off to fetch the prosecco, and returned with glassware and the bottle. "And this," they said, pouring and handing one of the glasses over, "is a genuine thank you, for saving me from the sales floor."

A low laugh came, and Efe shook his head back and forth. "You know, I kind of think one of the first rules of sales is to not try to talk me out of it?" He suggested jokingly, a soft, genuine, if tired smile lingering. Eyes flicking downward, he rolled the article in his hands. He stuck a hand through what may have been some kind of draped neckhole. "Do you need to have, like, really, really long arms? I'm pretty tall, or is it supposed to like, billow...for effect?"

Kaye nodded gravely. "This must be an off day then. Best wishes for your swift recovery." They hadn't given much thought to what efforts were required to make the animals entertaining. The people who seemed to appreciate that kind of thing generally seemed enthused by the creatures no matter what state they were in, but then, Kaye was seeing it from the outside. "I don't think an unriled bull would appeal to me much more than a riled one, but for your sake I'll hope that's the case. Maybe someone can pet it or something, and we can all call it a day."

They shrugged. "I'm doing well, keeping busy, which is always my preference." With such a commonplace question they usually gave an answer to match, but they were fond enough of Efe to follow it up in case there were specifics. "Why do you ask?"

Letting out a soft laugh, they folded their arms and leaned on the counter, watching with amusement as he tried to decipher, before they reached for it to give him a hand. "Mm, not exactly. What you've got there, is the waist, and this is the lining, it's just become turned around." They gave the fabric a swift shake, a turn, and flipped it over, before handing back what was clearly a pair of wide-legged pants when it was set to rights. "You should at least try them on, so you get an understanding of them."