#but I think in something like a vampire situation molly would be more hesitant. more worried about losing control---especially if he | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halothenthehorns · 3 years

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MAYHEM AT THE MINISTRY

Remus did not look pleased one little bit about accepting the book. He hated how they'd grown almost content, getting so many pleasant chapters in a row and then the huge finale of the Cup, just to have such a terrible one right after. He was terrified the trend would continue, but being afraid of something had never actually stopped him from doing anything, let alone in regards to a book, so he kept going.

Arthur woke them all very early the next morning, packed down the tents with magic, and only gave a vague wave to Mr. Roberts as they passed, while he called out a cheerful 'Merry Christmas!'

Lily's mind flickered back to her earlier worry that to many memory charms couldn't be good for him, and to have something so powerful taken away as well, oh she really hoped he would be okay.

Mr. Weasley spotted Harry's concerned look and promised he would be fine, some people got a little hazy with such a large memory being altered. When they reached the sight to collect their Portkey, there was already a huge queue all clamoring to get out of there at once.

"Cannot blame them," Remus sighed.

Arthur managed to get his way to the front, have a quick conversation with Basil, and returned back with a Portkey to take them home.

"Least they didn't have to wait on the Diggory's," Sirius sniffed.

They walked back down the hill with little spirit, too tired to do much of anything, but were all caught off guard by a shrill voice shouting in gratitude they'd returned.

"Molly," they all muttered in surprise, considering the time it was a wonder she was awake, but even more surprising was that this reaction meant she knew what had happened already.

Upon reflection though, the four of them weren't that surprised, the Daily Prophet was known for staying on top of the news, though not always in the best light.

Molly was sprinting up the drive towards the lot of them, colliding first with her husband and dropping her newspaper in the process, which fell to the ground letting Harry read the title explaining that terror had happened at the Cup, including a photo of the Dark Mark.

Mrs. Weasley was still sobbing into her husband's shoulder, but quickly turned watery eyes to check and make sure all were still present, before her eyes caught sight of the twins and she latched an arm around each neck and pulled them in, crashing their heads together.

"Ooh," Lily sighed, completely understanding why she'd feel particularly awful for those two.

"Think now would be a good time to drop the bomb they won a gambling bet," Sirius smiled weakly, "I don't think they'd get in quite as much trouble for it."

Lily shot him a look, but as his joking tone hadn't quite smothered his own happiness at the scene, she didn't say anything.

The twins tried to protest their treatment, but Molly kept crying into them now that she felt terrible the last thing she'd done before they'd left was yell about their O.W.L.'s!

"This is really sweet," Remus smiled widely without a trace a humor.

"Bet it only lasts a day before they find some new way to tick her off," James chuckled, not really able to pick up his own poking fun at the situation.

Arthur finally managed to detach his wife from her kids and convince her to come inside so he could explain things to her, muttering at Bill as he passed to grab that paper so he could read it. Once Mrs. Weasley had calmed, Arthur did indeed read the print and found it full of the wrongdoings on the Ministry's part at the Cup.

"All the standard tosh of the paper," Sirius snorted.

He demanded of no one who had written it, then seemed to catch sight of the name Rita Skeeter.

Harry felt a vile shot of annoyance at once, a scowl appearing when he heard that name, but it was diminished as always when Remus kept reading so he chose not to pay it any attention.

Percy at once jumped in at how furious that woman made him, how she'd gone on about his useless report and had instead been trying to say they should be out hunting down vampires, going on to list the Guideline specifically explaining why this wasn't even a thing, when Bill cut him off by politely asking him to shut up.

Causing all four boys to crack up laughing, they were all liking Bill more and more as this kept on.

Mr. Weasley hadn't even been listening and had kept at the paper, stating in surprise he'd been referenced. Mrs. Weasley choked on her tea in shock, saying she hadn't seen that, and Arthur quickly corrected it hadn't been by name, just his passing comment saying that nothing had happened that night.

"There was no more information to give," Lily scoffed.

Rita Skeeter had added her own thoughts to that saying it probably wouldn't be enough to squash the rumors about bodies later being removed, causing Arthur to scoff that now she'd said that there certainly would be rumors.

"Why do I get the feeling Arthur has previous experience with this writer?" Sirius asked.

"She certainly sounds more like a tabloid then a reporter," Remus grumbled.

Arthur gave one last heavy sigh before telling his family he'd have to run into the office because of this. Percy agreed he'd come, he could hand Crouch his report on cauldron bottoms in person.

"I'm sure that'll be the highlight of his day," James sneered.

Percy sprinted up the stairs without another word, while Molly tried to protest Arthur's leaving, saying he'd just gotten home, and this had nothing to do with his department. Arthur gently corrected her he may have made things worse.

"No one in the Ministry would know it was Arthur who said that," Lily arched a brow in surprise. "This Rita person could have pulled that comment out of the air."

"Arthur really doesn't have a reason to feel so responsible," James nodded in agreement, "he didn't do anything wrong."

Arthur left for a quick change of clothes, and Harry couldn't hold in the question anymore of whether he'd gotten mail while he was away.

They all eagerly shut their trap in hopes Molly would say yes to that one.

Molly distractedly said nothing had come in.

Then they started to get a little fidgety, all eyes flickering to Sirius and away. Sirius tried for a scoff, scolding all of them, "oh relax, just because I haven't responded already," he hesitated for a moment, wavering and trying to come up with a reason for himself, before asking Harry, "how long did it usually take me to reply?"

"Less than two weeks," Harry gave a shrug he didn't really feel.

"See," Sirius really did relax back this time. "I haven't even gotten his letter yet, are you lot really going to be freaking out the day I'm late?"

'Yes' was the collective mental answer all of them had, but none of them bothered to answer him aloud. They'd take the paranoia and be wrong with relief every time than think for even a second Sirius had been captured, none of them could stand another year like the last one.

Harry's two friends looked curiously at him, and he heavily suggested he go dump his stuff in Ron's room. Ron and Hermione agreed that would be a good idea and came along.

"Absolutely subtle," Sirius started to snicker, then switched to scowling at his two friends when they wouldn't quite watching him with unease. If they didn't lighten up he was going to have to start doing something drastic.

They waited until they reached the privacy of Ron's room before demanding of Harry what that had been about, and he finally told them of his scar hurting a few days ago. Their reactions were near perfect to how Harry had predicted them.

"It's good you know your friends so well," James muttered, finally turning away from Sirius. He wasn't done worrying about him yet, and frankly he wouldn't be until his name was cleared, but at least this was a mildly entertaining distraction.

Ron began demanding to know that You-Know-Who hadn't been around Harry this time, right?

Lily really did start laughing at that. Harry's spot on imaginary Ron had been perfect.

Harry agreed he was sure no one was there who shouldn't be, but it was strange. His dream had been about Wormtail,

Remus managed to spit out that name with the same amount of contempt he would have with the word Mudblood, or werewolf, or a number of things he wished he'd never in his life have to mention again.

saying he couldn't clearly remember details anymore, but they'd been talking about murdering...someone.

"I get the feeling they could have filled in that blank," James mumbled, wiggling just that little bit closer to his son no matter how stupid he may have deemed it in retrospect.

He hadn't been able to say the word 'me' because Hermione looked more than terrified enough.

Lily was doing a remarkable reenactment of that expression now, and she had the knowledge Harry was going to be fine. It was still making Harry feel just as bad for his mum as his friend, but was unable to help soothe either of them.

Ron tried to comfort all of them it had just been a nightmare though, nothing to worry about, but Harry disagreed. Stating how odd these coincidences were, his scar had hurt, and three days later Voldemort's sign appeared in the sky.

"Why, why on earth can't we just have one year where we don't even have to mention Voldemort's name?" Remus groused.

"Because my life would be too boring otherwise," Harry muttered.

Ron snapped at Harry not to say You-Know-Who's real name, but Harry ignored him as always. Reminding them of Trelawney's prediction last year.

"Haven't been able to forget it yet, but thanks for the reminder," Sirius muttered, that prophecy had nearly been his undoing, and even when he'd found out it hadn't related to him it was not a pleasant look back.

That finally distracted Hermione from her fear, giving a huffy laugh at Harry for believing anything she said.

"You never told them she made a real prophecy?" James asked in surprise.

"Never got around to it," Harry shrugged, giving Sirius an absent nudge as he said, "had some other stuff on my mind that night, and then I was trying to forget about it there at the end."

Sirius though had something much more entertaining to say as he gave his best friend a superior smirk and demanded, "so you do admit prophecies are real now?"

"Can't hardly deny it when Harry had one smacked in his face," Remus sighed, already being able to tell where this was headed by Sirius' pompous tone.

"Then you owe me years of apologizes for calling me a loon in believing in them," Sirius crowed, his smile stretching wider every second as he glanced from one friend to the other. "Go on, I want to hear you say it now. Prophecies exist!"

"Oh knock it off Snuffles," Harry sighed, for some reason the idea of Sirius talking about this was setting him on edge, but even as he finished he ended on a pained hiss and went cross eyed, trying to understand why he'd call Sirius that. After blinking away a few bright spots, he saw he wasn't the only one.

"Now why would you know that name?" Remus asked first. "I only called him that a half a dozen times, back in our fourth year."

"I've never heard this one," James raised an even more surprised brow at his two friends.

Sirius shrugged with nonchalant as he said, "it was during our Christmas break, and I got a head cold. Kept sneezing and body parts kept randomly turning into a dog, we didn't master our transformations until fifth year," Sirius added on for Harry. "Remus kept laughing about it every time and started calling me Snuffles all week. By the time you," he broke off with an old wince at the fact he couldn't add on the other name without substituting a swear word, "got back, the joke had died off."

Harry nodded in understanding, but none of this answered their original question, why on earth Harry would know any of that. The whole matter had successfully distracted both Sirius and Harry though, so Remus decided to keep reading now while he still could.

Harry defended the Divination teacher though, saying it had definitely been a real prediction this time, even quoting the parts about the Dark Lord's return, reminding the end results had been Wormtail's escape that night.

Now Remus regretted it and wanted to go back to admitting Sirius had been right about something, it was certainly easier to stomach then thinking on that. Through a red haze he glanced up and saw the other four were a mask of boiling hatred again, so Remus collected himself and put on the most tragic face he could muster as he said, "alright Padfoot, I admit, you were right about prophecies. Never again shall I argue with your unending knowledge, about this," he quickly tacked on, already knowing he was going to regret giving in the moment Sirius attempted to replace his bloodlust with a satisfied smirk. It didn't really work, his jaw was still clenched too tightly for the expression to look natural, but the fact he even attempted a smile made it feel worth it to Remus.

No one could think of anything else to add until Hermione again asked about Hedwig. Harry said he'd written a letter to Sirius asking about this, and Ron agreed at once that was a great idea, he'd have an answer for them.

"Why on earth would they think that?" James demanded at once, far more up for pestering his best mate then giving in to him. "You hardly know the difference between Devil's Snare and Mandrakes."

"Oi," Sirius hooted. "What's those evil little plants got to do with knowing about this Dark stuff? I know plenty about that, more than you."

James looked like he was about to keep pressing in, with a highly amused audience of Remus and Harry, but Lily gave Remus a hard nudge and waved him on, still wanting to get through this chapter more then watch them snip at each other no matter how much it made her feel better.

Harry agreed, though expressed he was worried he'd thought Sirius would reply by now. Hermione reminded they had no idea how far away he was, it would take longer than just three days. Harry agreed with a heavy sigh.

James kept his superior expression in place even as that feeling of jealousy returned, still wishing in vain he could have replaced that sentence with his own name.

Ron quickly changed the subject by offering Harry to come play Quidditch, he knew all of his brothers would join in, and Harry could try the Wronski Feint.

"Oh that's a brilliant idea," Lily sighed, "because one life or death experience isn't enough for you in a twenty-four hour period."

"Stop exaggerating Lily," Sirius snickered, "Quidditch is good for him, helps him work out the nerves."

Hermione snapped at him in a 'I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive' sort of voice

"I get the feeling she has to use that voice often," Remus chuckled.

by saying Harry didn't want to play Quidditch now,

"Oh yes he does," Harry laughed, the idea of trying out that move again now still present.

that he should want to go to bed, but Harry interrupted that a game sounded fun.

"Best to cut her off before she could keep going like that," James snickered, "she'd be tucking you into bed before you knew it."

He went rummaging for his Firebolt as Hermione stomped out muttering about 'boys.'

"I'm sure there were some other things mixed in there," Lily rolled her eyes, on complete agreement with Hermione on that.

The narrative jumps in by saying that for the next week, neither Percy nor Arthur were home much. Percy could be heard saying over dinner the Sunday before they were due back at school how the place was in an uproar in a pompous, superior tone.

"I swear that's the description you give after everything he says," Sirius snorted.

"And he doesn't deserve it one bit," Remus agreed.

People kept sending Howlers complaining of what all had happened, and wanting reimbursement for their stuff. One Mundungus Fletcher was wanting compensation for his twelve-bedroom tent that had been destroyed, but Percy knew for a fact he'd been sleeping under his own cloak.

"What an idiot," Lily scoffed, "did he really think he could get away with that?"

"I've heard of stupider things he's tried," James shrugged.

Unlike before, where he'd still felt to unsure to hardly even speak up, Harry had no qualms this time inserting himself into the conversation and asking, "how do you guys know him?" In hopes to ease some of the pressure in his skull telling him he should know that name anyways.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's," Remus shrugged, "does a lot of things for the Order most members either can't, or won't do because they don't have the same ah, connections."

"Friend is putting it lightly," Sirius snorted. "Dumbledore keeps bailing him out from the stupider crimes he gets caught doing, so Mundungus does whatever he asks." Then he turned to Harry and put much more bluntly, "he's a criminal, never made an honest living in his life, but he's pretty fun to have around. Dung's always been good for a laugh, and he can get you some really cheap things most won't normally go after."

"You are not endearing me," Harry finally laughed to show he'd gotten the message. All of this helped somewhat, he was now quite sure this was the same way he knew the same man, but there was still something missing. A connection he was sure he had to the name, but of course that wouldn't come to him.

Molly was not paying attention to the conversation, glancing repetitively at the clock where all of the Weasley family's names had replaced the hands, and instead of numbers it indicated such things as work, traveling, or home,

"I love that," Lily said instantly, her eyes brightening with want.

"I wonder how they got ahold of that," James ruffled up his brow thoughtfully, his mind already spinning with the idea he'd like to recreate that for his family, that nasty little pang reminding him of the count of hands he'd have now rather than if he'd heard about this just a week ago.

"It was an anniversary present for Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, "I think Mr. Weasley made it, though I have no idea how."

"Fascinating," Lily said honestly, adding this to her growing list of things she had a mind to say to the Weasleys when she planned to meet them in person.

"I do wonder though," Remus said with some surprise, "why she was so worried about her family if she had that. It would have said whether anything bad had happened to them."*

"There's a difference in a clock telling you, and seeing them in person," Lily said mildly.

"Besides," Sirius shrugged, "considering the time they arrived back, I'll bet you she just saw that paper and sprinted out the back to wait, I don't think that would have crossed her mind till later, and they came back soon enough she didn't have time to check."

as well as lost, hospital, prison,

Lily couldn't help but snort, thinking 'oh that's lovely.'

and, mortal peril.

"Sounds handy," Sirius snickered.

"That's where your hand would be all year," Lily shot back.

Sirius went wide eyed and pressed his hand to his heart as he cooed at her, "awe, Lily, you'd put my name up there?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she tried to say with a straight face, though the effect was ruined by her twitching lips.

All of the hands but Arthur's currently pointed at home, while his was at work. Mrs. Weasley gave a heavy sigh as she said to no one in particular that he hadn't been working this much since the time of You-Know-Who.

"Why would Mr. Weasley's job be involved in that?" Harry asked in surprise. "If he just informs people about what Muggle stuff is?"

Lily wasn't a hundred percent sure herself, as she'd personally never even spoken to Arthur in real life, and only had a vague idea of where his office even was in the Ministry, but she knew for a fact she had to send owls down there all the time for other things besides just what a Muggle object was so she offered, "it's a bit more than that dear. I don't think you quite realize how often wizards, mistakenly or not, involve themselves in Muggle affairs. Whatever any department does, Arthur would have to make sure to check it over and make sure it doesn't interfere with anything to do with Muggles. This Dark Mark business," Lily heaved a huge sigh in sympathy for the Ministry falling into even a portion of the pandemonium it was on a daily basis to her in this timeline, "it causes all sorts of mayhem at the Ministry to keep that sort of thing under wraps from the Muggles no matter how far away they were. All those wizards panicking and fleeing the scene for instance, apparating away in their panic and landing in Muggle neighborhoods for instance, could have shocked any number of them, you see where I'm going?" She finished with an expectant look.

Harry nodded in understanding, his sympathy for the Weasley patriarch suddenly doubling.

Saying his job was working him to hard, and his dinner would be ruined by the time he got here. Percy said that his father had brought this on himself with his mistake.

James's mouth opened with a little pop as he gasped, "is Percy really agreeing with the Ministry over his own father with that nonsense?"

"What a little prat," Sirius nodded with a heavy scowl in place.

Saying he shouldn't have said anything until he'd spoken with his Head of Department about the press,

"He is the Head of his Department," Remus snapped, stunned that he was defending Arthur from one of his own kids. Bloody hell, he remembered this random snap of information from when Ron had said it two books ago! How could Percy be acting like this?

Lily had always had the most sympathy for Percy, she found his position in the family more sad than annoying like the rest of the boys seemed to, but even she was getting a little fiery over the way he was acting now, there was no excuse of taking your jobs side over your family's.

Harry's thoughts were in perfect alignment with his mother's, wondering why on earth all of this Percy talk felt like a bad omen.

but Molly cut him off with a snap that Percy was not going to sit there and blame his father for whatever Skeeter had caused! Bill agreed with his mother, saying if their dad hadn't said anything, Skeeter would have just said no one at the Ministry had bothered to give a comment, all while keeping his eyes on the chessboard he was playing with Ron on.

That was a quick distraction, all of them vividly remembering the last time Ron had been mentioned playing chess, at least this time the pieces weren't life sized.

Harry gave a happy smile at this, saying, "Bill was the only one who could play Ron and actually be a threat to him."

Still going on to say that she didn't like anyone, she'd done some interviews of the Curse Breakers once, and she'd called him a 'long-haired pillock.'

"Well this woman's just getting more and more charming," Remus scoffed.

Molly couldn't seem to help herself as she did agree it was getting a bit long, but Bill cut her off with a quick no.

"I get the feeling that must be a daily occurrence," Sirius snorted, brushing his hair out of his own face.

Rain was pouring down outside, the cozy little scene in the living room displaying all of them sitting around in comfort working on something. Charlie was currently tending a fireproof balaclava,

"Why would he need to fix a fireproof anything?" Harry asked in surprise, having been too invested in his own project at the time to ask.

"It can still get worn out even when it's not set on fire," Lily shrugged, "I'm sure Charlie has to do that on his own all the time, considering how little he's home."

Harry was polishing his Firebolt, and the twins were off in the corner muttering over a piece of paper.

"Subtle," James snorted, thinking they'd at least have the sense to make more order forms outside of their mother's point of view.

"I think they're just asking for another argument," Remus nodded.

Molly seemed to notice this at the same time as Harry, as she snapped at her twins what they were up to? Fred responded at once with homework.

"Right," Sirius exaggerated the word to the extreme.

Mrs. Weasley scolded they were still on holiday, and George agreed they'd just left it a bit late.

"Now that I'll believe," Lily snorted.

She was still glaring at them as she demanded to know if those were more to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?

"Can't restart what they never gave up on," Remus smirked, as clearly no matter what their mother said, those two had this in the works for some time.

Fred turned hurt filled eyes on her, reminding that if the Hogwarts express crashed tomorrow and they died, did she really want to pick an argument with them about this?

Lily gave a small sigh, she didn't really think it was right to pick on their mother for that reaction she'd had, but it didn't erase her own laughter blending in with the boys at their picking.

Even Mrs. Weasley laughed at her son's picking, but then she quickly turned to excitement when she saw Arthur's hand finally switch from traveling, and then seconds later, home. She was already bustling towards the kitchen before Arthur could call out, and he came into the living room looking haggard. He picked listlessly at his meal as the told those around him that Skeeter was still causing all kinds of problems, now she'd found out about Bertha and that was going to be another Ministry blunder headline. Percy agreed Crouch had said weeks ago someone should go looking for her.

"Did he really need to add that?" Sirius muttered, fighting down the compulsion more with every line he spoke to smack Percy.

Arthur grumbled back they were just lucky Skeeter didn't know about Crouch's involvement with that Dark Mark business, that would be a headline for weeks.

"If that did happen, his grounds of clothing his elf would make a bit more sense," Sirius quirked a brow in surprise, "so I guess if you think about it, he was just doing that preemptively."

"I cannot believe you're really going back and saying that was okay," Lily balked at him.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her and said, "What? I still think they were over the line treating her like that, but we all know Crouch has such a large stick up his arse it's not really surprising he'd think that way. If you consider the way he is now, I wouldn't be surprised one little bit the second something Dark is connected to his name he'd throw it to the wolves."

"You're depressing me," Lily sighed, slumping back into the couch without argument for that.

Harry was getting a bubbling feeling in his gut, something in him telling him Sirius was very close to the mark and none of them realized it, but of course he couldn't begin to imagine details of what this was.

Percy was getting a temper now as he said everyone here had agreed Crouch had nothing to do with that!

James scoffed as he snapped, "I wouldn't be surprised if Percy just said that and no one argued with him. While yes he's right," he rolled his eyes, "you don't need to go shouting at them for it."

Hermione shot back Crouch was lucky the Prophet didn't know how he treated elves!

Sirius couldn't help a surprised little snort of laughter, that's what Hermione had caught on? No one else would bat an eye at that part.

Percy sighed at her, trying to defend his boss that such a man couldn't have disobedient servants, but Hermione hotly cut him off and corrected slave!

"Eh," James waved his hand vaguely, "I think Hermione's exaggerating the term a bit."

"I don't," Lily snapped at once. The more she heard about this, the more she was kicking herself or never having looked farther into it. "What's so different with house-elves, and treating people that same way?"

"The practice of house-elves being attached to wizarding families goes back centuries," Sirius rolled his eyes, "it's practically as common as wizards themselves."

"Just because it's old and traditional doesn't make it right," Lily ground out. "You're saying that these beings that are clearly as human as Remus shouldn't be treated the same."

"Hey," Remus yelped, "don't drag me into this." His eyes were getting wider the longer this dragged on, he actually began edging away from Lily as he sensed a true fight coming on and he did not want to be in the middle of this.

Sirius was clearly getting angry now, his glare actually holding some real threats of violence if she kept this up, she shouldn't have dragged Remus into this! His voice came out more of a growl now, "that's not fair and you know it. Don't you take a shot at him when they're two completely different things."

"How?" Lily insisted, her eyes narrowing clearly showing she wasn't going to back down one bit. "You tell me how treating something as lesser than you as a slave isn't that far off the mark how werewolves are treated, like a pariah."

"OKAY!" James finally got out louder than them. The baby in Lily's lap, already squirming in agitation at all of the raised voices, actually began wailing then, causing Lily to break away her glare and begin soothing her son, admittedly still more flushed than usual. James wasn't looking much better himself, alternately scowling at his wife for making Remus clearly so uncomfortable, and Sirius refusing to back down and just let the matter go. "You two knock it off, there's no since acting like this towards each other. Let Remus finish this chapter, then you two can have it out somewhere where we don't have to hear it."

Lily finally convinced baby Harry to stop crying by then, sitting back into her seat, and still throwing haughty looks at Sirius, which he was returning. Harry and his father exchanged an uneasy look, James had been hoping that someone cutting them off would make one of them admit it was time to let this go but that clearly wasn't the case. Remus still looked a little shell-shocked, but at a nod from James he decided to keep going.

Reminding that Winky hadn't been paid. Molly cut into the argument by telling her children to go upstairs and make sure everything was packed.

'I should take notes' Harry mentally thought, still frowning at all four of them. He'd seen them argue before, and he never liked to watch it.

Harry got to his feet and followed Ron up to his room, where Pigwidgeon set up a flutter when they came in. Ron threw him an owl treat to get him to shut up, and Harry watched the little owl with worry as he said it had been over a week since he'd seen his own.

"You said yourself she normally takes twice that long," James sighed, running his hand through his hair in agitation, as if he needed another thing to worry about.

"Well yeah, but I don't know. I was kind of hoping since this one was kind of urgent, he'd find a way to get a reply quicker," Harry offered with a shrug.

Harry then asked Ron with real worry if Sirius had been captured.

Lily's skin tone went back to normal, and then a few shades paler in shock. This was not the first, nor certainly the last, time she'd been ticked off at Sirius for some careless comment he made, but she was suddenly struck once again by this horrid future they were listening to and realizing these little spats they had may be numbered. It didn't completely erase her agitation towards him, but it certainly made the want of cursing him lessen.

Remus flinched as he got that out, but Sirius quickly jumped in and soothed them all with a smug smile, "oh please, those numbskulls couldn't find the broad side of a barn. There's no way they're going to find me."

"You're confidence is instilling," James muttered, unable entirely to stop his leg twitching in agitation.

Ron scoffed at the idea, saying that news would be plastered all over the papers.

"And there's that," Harry sighed, trying to show that had comforted him a lot more than it had. He really didn't like to think of Sirius being captured, it set him on edge in the worst way, though thankfully he wasn't getting any kind of feeling about this. So this must mean it never happened to him, right?

Harry agreed for now, and went about packing away his stuff, most of which were his new school books and some supplies Mrs. Weasley had gotten him while he was away, grateful she'd remembered his potion ingredients as he'd been running low on some.

Lily just couldn't seem to erase a frown from her face this chapter, the expression only increasing as she got her own shot of envy at Molly doing all of this for her son. She'd have loved nothing more than for the simple task of going to Diagon Alley for her son while he and his father went to that Cup, and this little reminder it had been someone else smarted more than she'd been expecting it to with her current mood.

Ron was at his own trunk, and made a disgusted noise of surprise as he pulled out a maroon dress with lacy cuffs.

That was such a random thing that Remus finally broke the bad vibe of the room with a snort of mirth, all five of them cracking a real smile at Ron for some deranged reason being handed a lacy dress-robe.

Molly entered at that moment with some last minute clothes for them, and Ron tried to hand the dress to her, saying he'd gotten something of Ginny's by mistake, but Molly corrected that it was for Ron, his new dress robes. Ron yelped in shock, and Molly said that's what their school supplies list had said they'd need this year.

"Wonder why," James said just a tad too loudly, hoping to keep on this laughing mood as long as possible. "Think Hogwarts is hosting a dance?"

Harry felt a buzz ring through him, somehow knowing his dad wasn't too far off, but also getting the impression it wasn't an event he was fond of.

"I think it would be a nice idea," Lily couldn't help a little smile now, warming to the idea the more she spoke. "Perhaps a Valentine's day thing, I always said Hogwarts should indulge in more school events."

"From memory, every time they've tried, it's been a disaster," Remus snickered. "I've heard tale of this one time they tried a school play over some fairytale novel, that didn't end well."

"Won't know until Harry gets there," Sirius cut in, perhaps still being a little more surely then was called for, but still too agitated to admit it.

Lily shot him another glare, she had been trying to play nice, but clearly Remus took that as a hint to move on now while he still could.

Ron was still balking at the material, stating he'd never wear a thing like this! Molly cut him off by saying everyone wore them, his own father had some.

"Just like that eh?" James raised a brow in surprise, forcing some good mood at Sirius whether he wanted it or not. "I'd like to see that, I'm sure seeing his father in lace would make Ron feel better."

Harry gave a happy laugh at the image, while Sirius did crack a smile for James's benefit.

Ron grumbled he'd show off his bum before he put that on.

"That'll be a day at Hogwarts," Remus snickered.

Mrs. Weasley snapped he was being silly, Harry had gotten some too.

Causing Sirius to really laugh this time, along with the other three, while Harry went beat red in surprise and fear for what this could mean.

Harry began digging through his stuff in surprise, but came up with something much closer to his school uniform, except it was dark green.

"Which is how most dress-robes look," James cackled. "So I don't know what was running through Molly's head with Ron in mind."

The smile trickled off of Lily just a bit though, not having to think hard on why the idea of Molly picking out that for Harry would give her a pang of sadness.

Ron saw it and snapped why he hadn't gotten something that looked more like that, and Molly couldn't help a faint blush as she said she hadn't a lot of choosing on her budget for Ron's.

Causing all of them to stop smiling at once. It wasn't so funny now that they realized that.

Harry looked away in shame, knowing he'd happily split all his money with the Weasleys,

"Wish I'd just done it, they couldn't argue the point once it's in there," Harry muttered, fidgeting in place.

but he knew they would never take it.

"That's why you don't ask permission," James smirked.

Ron snapped he refused to wear his, and Mrs. Weasley snapped he could just go ahead naked then. Asking Harry to make sure he got a picture, she needed a laugh!

"It's nice to see Molly with a sense of humor," Sirius sighed.

She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, and at that moment Pigwidgeon began choking on a too large treat. Ron was grumbling that everything he owned was rubbish as he went to go unstick his beak.

Remus closed the book uneasily, looking between Sirius and Lily like he still expected a bomb to go off, being as clear and silent as he could the chapter was over, then looking longing at the door like he wanted to make a run for it while he could.

HPHPHPHP

Forewarning you guys now, the next chapter won't actually be a chapter, but an actual argument between Lily and Sirius about the house-elf topic. I set it up to much to just have them keep avoiding it, and since it keeps coming up so much in this book I decided I'd get their views up and as clear as possible now.

Thank you all as always for your endless support of this fic! No spoilers but, Oh My God The Cursed Child! I'm thinking about waiting until the next reading chapter and posting my opinion on it, or do you think that's a little cocky? Do you guys even really care what I think about it?

*Question offered by maana999. If you guys have any questions, even from one of the older books, or just something you'd like to point out and seen discussed, I implore you to say something, I love them all!

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #GoF #marauders #james Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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codezeta-liveblog-blog · 7 years

Text

Bonds 1.2 - Birb Ghosts

First of all, I’d like to start this saying that I actually seem to know a bit MORE about Pact than I said I knew. That is because is the last few days of hiatuses I REMEMBERED a post from reddit. When thinking about the House in... god what was the name of the goshdarn hill, something about an opening? Oh well, anyways, I remember seeing something about a ‘demesnes’ (Wildbow sure likes that word huh). And I by the wording of the topic, which I didn’t dwell on, I think whatever a demesnes is, this house is one. Or something.

Anyways, lets get back to it!

Last time, Molly bit the dust, Blake had a bunch of visions and he really had to get some air and RUN.

I was dressed and heading out the door in less than a minute, a plain black toque pulled over my hair. I had to fumble around for a moment to manage the coat I was getting on, the backpack I’d stuffed with spare shirts, sweaters and underwear, and the keys I needed to lock my apartment.

I reached the stairwell and took the stairs three at a time, descending each half-flight of stairs in two steps.

Mirror people, visions of talking dogs and stretched faces, vampire hunters or witch hunters or whatever they were. It was unbelievable, impossible to wrap my head around. So I didn’t believe it, didn’t try to understand it. I didn’t disbelieve it either. I was processing it, really, filing it all away for future consideration.

It was stupid, maybe, crazy, to dismiss it. By all right, my worldview should have been turned upside down by this.

Two things. First, when you select this text and mistakenly do a google search of it, the second result is a One Direction fanfiction. Second, is he in the same town the house was in? I don’t feel like he would be, calling it HIS apartment. I’m reminded that people were weirded out by him on the town. Also mirror people? I remember the table of people, one a family, one of… similar woman? Were they the mirror people? I remember the vision on ice with the stretched face, the Other Hunters, and the Dog & King duo over on Twilight Town a town with red-cast skies. Oh and I went back to check, there was that native woman with the chained girl too. BAH, whatever, I didn’t like the visions then, don’t like them now. MOVING OOOOON.

Except other things were taking a kind of priority, demanding consideration, turning my life upside down.

Molly was dead. I’d heard it, and I believed it. Taken alone, the statement might have meant little, but I’d had an ominous feeling since leaving the inheritance gathering. Right here, right now, I felt like it fit. I didn’t want it to, but it fit.

The gathering had been the first time I had seen Molly since we were kids. I could barely guess what she was like now, as a near-adult.

What she had been like, as an almost adult. I felt a twist of worry, and a fair bit of anger. Why hadn’t she called me?

I wish I hadn’t pointed out the anger theme bit. The word throbs every time it shows up now.

For all the impact my family had had on my life, there were very few people I had ever had a connection with. I had never been mistreated, exactly, but there hadn’t been a lot of love to go around either. Molly and Paige had been the ones to greet me with smiles on their faces, to hug me instead of offering an informal handshake. We’d played together, laughed, and bridged the gap between being family to being friends.

When I thought of Molly, I thought of the child she had been ten years ago, not the young woman I’d briefly met at the end of the summer. When I reminded myself that she could well be dead, I felt like I’d lost something from a relatively small pool of happy family memories.

I reached the bottom of the stairwell, and as I hurried down the length of the hallway, past the elevators that would have taken too long to use, I was still trying to frame it all in my head.

Molly’s death wouldn’t have been random. There had been a reason, and that reason had driven my grandmother to do what she’d done. All of the fallout from that, the divide in the family, the animosity that had driven me from home to a cold, hostile, unfriendly world, shared that same root cause. It was hard to pin how much of my haste was self preservation and how much was my desire to get answers.

Molly was dead. I believed it. I could figure it out, I could get the world in alignment again, so things made sense.

If it was even possible for things to make sense with talking animals and twisted mirror-cities.

It goes through my head that the family, unless they know what is the SOMETHING that is going on, might not take well to the fact that, hey, Blake’s the owner now because mirror lady said he is!

I stopped at the doors at the end of the lobby, paused, then knocked.

It took time for the door to open. I worked on getting my scarf on and making sure my backpack was buckled shut, keys stowed away.

The door opened, and my bear of a landlord stood in the way, leveling a stare at me. He wore an undershirt that strained across his stomach, and pyjama pants with pink and magenta stripes, with thick-frame glasses and thick caterpillar eyebrows on an otherwise hairless, unadorned head.

“Blake? It’s five in the morning.” He had a trace of a Quebecois accent.

“Joel. It’s an emergency. I need your car.”

“Yeah?” He switched from annoyance to concern in an instant. “Need a ride?”

“Out of town emergency. I’ve got to steal your car for a bit. Please.”

“How long?” he asked, turning away from the door.

I could see the mirror that was opposite the front door, wide and tall, with an ostentatious frame. The mirror girl was on the other side, staring at me.

That’s really cool. Question is if the landlord can see her, if not, is this a “muggles” situation. Or is Blake SOMEWHAT used to this, because he is rather calm here. I didn’t give wildbow enough credit, but calling something Pact and having your first chapter be a reunion where everyone is in a family is in black NOT BE a cult thing was a really cool move. I’d like to think I was not alone in thinking some demonic shit was going on in that chapter the first time through. Not that there WASN’T, its just not the focus at least.

“I don’t know,” I said.

He turned back to me, holding keys firmly in his fist. His bulk blocked my view of the girl in the mirror. “Work with me here, Blake. I need something, if I’m loaning you my car.”

“I don’t know,” I repeated myself. “But I’ve got to go, I can’t ride my bike in this weather, and there isn’t any other way to get there. I’m stuck, and I don’t know how to handle this.”

“Slow down. What happened?”

“I think my cousin died. It’s two hours away, so if you needed the car, I could bring it back in a pinch, figure a way to get back, or-”

“Shhh,” he interrupted me. I made myself stop. Very calm, soothing, he said, “It’s fine. I’m so sorry about your cousin, baby.”

I shrugged, breaking eye contact. I wasn’t good with people being kind to me. Not without some warning. “I’m not sure it’s true. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Go, do what you need to do,” he said. He extended his hand, keys dangling from the ring that was now around his middle finger.

I took the keys, then fumbled with my own. I held my bike key for a moment, weighing it in my hand, then handed it over.

“You don’t need to,” Joel said.

“I do,” I said. “For me, as much as for you. I’m- it’ll make sure I don’t forget your car back to you soon, because I’ll miss it, and that’ll remind me.”

He nodded, then took my key. “I got you.”

“Thank you, Joel,” I said.

This Joel landlord person? REAL cool guy. Chilliest person in the book so far. And I’m a-okay if that stays that way. I do wonder what’s the history here, but don’t mind if it never pops up. This is not a loner-story like Taylor. Blake had an adult life, he made contacts, he made friends, I don’t NEED to know everything about the steps in the way.

“You have my number, if you need it.”I nodded. “You’re a good friend.”“Speaking of… weren’t you going to set things up for Goosh’s show?”

I winced. My job. “I didn’t think. I don’t- shit.”

“It’s fine. I’ll explain to the others. We’ll use the Sisters.”

“Goosh told me she wanted to kill them, the last time she hired them.”

“She’ll find a way to cope, after I explain what’s up. Don’t worry. You focus on what you need to, and trust us to have your back. Okay?”

I nodded.

“There’s a hug here if you want or need it.”

I hesitated, but he knew that I would.

The lights went out. We were plunged into darkness, the hallway and lobby lit only by the moonlight that reflected off the snow.

I could see movement behind Joel. The girl in the mirror, moving her arms.

“Power outage?” he asked, stepping further into the hallway to look around.

“Looks like,” I said. My eyes were on the mirror. If he turned around, would he see her?

Huh, cool, okay so Blake questions shit too. Also

“I should go make sure everything’s okay,” he said. “Might be the breaker.”

The girl in the mirror raised her arms. Forearms crossed against one another, forming an ‘x’.

“Do me another huge favor?” I asked.

“What’s that?” Joel replied.

When he looked at me, I had trouble meeting his eyes. I wasn’t used to omitting the truth when dealing with friends. “Go back to bed. Sleep. I’ve got a bad feeling, and I’m not sure if it’s just because I feel like you’ll never get back to bed if you go now or if it’s something else. But I’ve got to go, and I feel like I’d be a lot happier if I knew you were in bed, instead of wandering around a dark building alone.”

“Gut feeling?” he asked. “That’s not like you.”

“Gut feeling,” I said. “Instincts.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sure. For your instincts, I’ll be lazy this morning. Until I get the first irate phone call.”

I nodded. Then I accepted his offer for a hug, reaching out. He folded his arms around me, warm.

The girl in the mirror looked nervous, pacing back and forth, occasionally peering around, as if she could get a different perspective. A moment later, she strode out of view, stepping beyond the boundaries of the frame.

I took that as my cue to go. As I broke the hug, Joel rubbed his hand over the toque and then gave me a little push, an urging to get going.

I got going.

His car was in the garage, a few steps away, through a heavy door. I hit the button to raise the big garage door, and watched as the wall of snow that the wind had driven against the door tipped over, breaking into chunks as it hit the damp pavement.

I unlocked Joel’s Corolla, a car old enough that the only way to open the door was to actually put the key in the lock, and then stopped.

I moved the rear-view mirror until I had a view of the girl in the back seat.

“Answers,” I said.

Are we getting a discussion on the ride through the mirror? Because that’s REALLY COOL. Not safe, but cool. I wonder how is the girl doing this, is she in the mirror dimension like, she travels between mirrors and that’s it, or is she in A mirror dimension and has to move along with Blake to position herself against mirrors?

“Go, and I’ll give you answers,” she responded. She sounded even fainter and more muffled than before. “You think the lights went out by coincidence?”

If I went, I’d get answers from her. I’d get answers from the house, about Molly…

Answers were good. I took a second to familiarize myself with both the car and with cars in general, where things were and how to operate the things.

In moments, both me and the car were traveling down the near-empty streets.

“Okay,” she said.

“Your name?”

“Rose.”

“Rose… who are you supposed to be? My grandmother?”

“No. I think I’m you. Your- our parents named me after her.”

I was silent, taking that in.

“I know I’m supposed to say something witty here, make a quip, but I’m barely thinking straight,” I said.

Aha, Grandma Sass is Rose. I forget if we knew that. Explains the flower motif in the house… I feel like I said this before, I think we knew this. But also, what. So A mirror dimension. Right?

“I’m you, with one fundamental difference,” Rose elaborated. “I’m a girl. I think grandmother is trying to game the system somehow. A failsafe or trap or something, that kicks in when Molly dies and the inheritance turns over.”

The reminder of Molly’s death was a slap in the face. “How did you know, that Molly’s dead?”

“That’s complicated.”

“Two hour drive, Rose. We have time for a complicated explanation.”

“Not the time consuming kind of complicated. This stuff was explained to me. I crashed into existence, with only a few places I could go. I’ve got a lifetime of memories, but I get that I’m a fake. If I were real, I wouldn’t be sitting here, surrounded by an awful lot of darkness. I’d have a proper heartbeat, instead of this slow motion thump every few seconds, staying the same even when I’m freaked out. I see a bit of a glimmer of an outline here or there, where the light’s really strong on your end. But there aren’t many places I can go, Blake. Patches of light, where light passes through the mirrors. Only the mirrors in the house, and the mirrors around you count.”

I glanced up at the rear view mirror. She looked upset, her knees drawn up to her chin, feet on the seat in front of her. Was she cold, sitting there in pyjama pants and a camisole, barefoot in a car where my breath fogged up? Or were the lack of breath and response to the temperature the same as her heartbeat? Something false or simplified?

I couldn’t look at her for too long, given the need to focus on the road. I pulled onto the highway, double and then triple checking there weren’t any cars coming.

So why did she say “You-Our parents”? She is a fake, okay, she doesn’t “live” as much as she “exists”. But she still considers Blake’s parents to be hers. I’m reminded that the baby name is Ivy. It was a she right? Ivy sounds like a female name. Also, who explained this to her? AH, maybe she is a magic concept created by Blake’s parents and therefore considers them her parents as well?

Rose kept talking. “The lawyer, Beasley, he was cleaning up. Picking up books and stuff that Molly left lying around. When I asked what was going on, he said you were next in line, for custody of the house. After you, it’s Kathy, then Ellie, then Roxanne, then Ivy, then Paige.”

“Paige is last?” I asked. Okay, I got that maybe Kathryn would fit. She was a mom, a professional. A serious personality. Maybe a bit cutthroat, but I could get that.

“Paige is last,” she said.

Placing the two and twelve year old in the list before Paige? Placing me in the running?

“Doesn’t make sense,” I said.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I didn’t stay for explanations. Depending on how things went, he said, we could run down that list really quickly. He said it depends on how fast people can get to the house, and how fast they can get to grips with all this. He said I should find you, and I found you.”

Far less in the way of answers than I’d hoped for.

THE LAWYER WAS IN ON IT I SUPER CALLED IT I THINK. Poor Page.

I drove in silence for a few minutes.

The answers only raised more questions. How did Paige fit into this? How did I fit into it? Most confusing of all… Rose.

“What I’m wondering is… you,” I said.

“I’m wondering about me too,” she said. “Trust me, if you’re wondering if I’m suspicious, if there’s a catch here, I’m wondering too.”

“How do your memories line up? Molly got picked, but… you were at the house?”

“I was home, with mom and dad. They’re mad, you know, obviously, because I didn’t get Hillsglade House, and they thought it was as close to a given as you could get. Mad at me, especially. I was in bed, mostly asleep, and then I was at the house. I remember everything about my life, but I don’t feel like I experienced any of it. You know?”

“Not really,” I said. I watched the tail lights of a truck ahead of me disappearing into the snowy fog, further down the arrow-straight highway. I was driving slower, because I didn’t have much winter driving experience, and I didn’t want to total Joel’s car. Noting a silence that had followed my response, I tried to keep the discussion going. “You still live with mom and dad?”

“While I’m going to school,” she said.

“You didn’t leave?”

“No. Why? When did you move out?”

Oh god. The parents wanted to have a girl didn’t they? And Rose stayed in school and all that, if she is a concept created by the parents, is she the “perfect daughter” they wanted Blake to be? If so, that’s fucking weird.

Move out. She didn’t know about me leaving home.

“A bit ago,” I said, noncommittal. No use volunteering unnecessary information.

What’s the magic loophole?

If Rose was a failsafe, who or what was it trying to work around? If it was a trap, then who was the supposed victim? Was there an enemy? Or was it a trap aimed at me?

Was there a chance this was all a lie?

I could wonder if I was losing my mind, but… I felt lucid.

While that wasn’t a guarantee I was sane, I knew, but I felt lucid, and it was hard to sell myself the idea that I was insane, if there weren’t any clear symptoms.

I was seeing things, but having two points of reference would have made it a lot easier, giving me a kind of perspective on it all.

My hands were clutching the wheel so hard that it was painful. I had to consciously will myself to relax.

“Rose, talk to me,” I said. “There isn’t nearly enough information to piece things together, and I’m not going to make it through this drive if I’ve only got my own worries and paranoia to fill the time.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You seemed to know something was up, with the power going out.”

“There was a presence. Like… almost as if there was a patch of something lighter in the darkness, or a sound I could barely hear, or a movement of the air, here, where the air doesn’t move at all. Something was there.”

Man, Wildbow is good with description of alien feelings. I keep thinking Blake knows SOME about magic. Maybe he was told about magic by his family, and said it was simple tricks, but not all of this, or he is just a very rational character. I wrote a short story once of a lady in an absurd situation where she kept calm. I just couldn’t make it believable enough.

Something.

“This isn’t helping the paranoia,” I said.

“I’m not any happier,” she said. “If something chases us, you can run. Where can I run? There isn’t much room, on this side.”

“Yet you broke the mirror. Speaking of, how did you know you could break it?”

“I didn’t. That was an accident, and I wish I hadn’t done it. It hurt, and I feel drained, and I feel tired. It took something out of me, doing that, and I’m not sure I have that much to give.”

Wait, when did she break the mirror? Last chapter, on the bathroom? I don’t remember that being told to us. Just that she stroke the mirror, but I didn’t imagine it breaking, since it was all muffled I imagine it was more like hitting those unbreakable glasses we see in movies.

“Rose, are you understanding what I’m getting at? There’s a few things here that aren’t making sense. Crazy hallucinations or whatever else.”

“You had the visions too?”

“Rose,” I said, speaking a little firmer, to keep her on track. “The more time I have to think about all this, the less I feel like I can trust you. How did you know how to get from the light at the house to me? Considering that this all supposedly started less than an hour ago, you’re picking it up pretty damn fast.”

“It’s not- no. Blake, the lawyer told me to go. He pointed in a direction, and told me to take a leap of faith if I wanted to help you. I did what he said, and now I’m here. I’m jumping from mirror to mirror, and I’m worried I’m going to jump and I’ll miss, and I’m not sure what happens when I do.”

“You left out that part,” I said. “About him telling you how to jump. That’s context I could have used.”

“I’m not your enemy, here,” she said, and her voice was harder, angrier.

If I was planning to press the subject, the plan had to go on hold.

I saw a figure standing in the middle of the highway, in the distance.

I slowed the car.

Wasn’t she sitting before? I can’t quite get a picture of this, I don’t know if she’s standing around in darkness with mirrors in front of her of if she is literally jumping from mirror to mirror and standing on them. The first makes more sense, or else Blake would be seeing under her clothes, which is lewd and doesn’t belong in this Christian book.

“What is it?” Rose asked.

It was a person, tall, dressed in a long cloak or layered garment of some sort. Right in the middle of the road. The cloth had been white to begin with, it looked like, but it was badly stained. He –or she– wore a mask or a helmet shaped like an overlarge bird’s skull, with a pair of antlers.

I didn’t have a lot of time to take it in. Even though I was driving slowly, even though I was slowing down, I was closing the distance. I didn’t want to stop, but…

I turned to go around, giving the white thing as much clearance as I could. It stayed where it was, standing in place. There were no other cars on the highway, coming or going. Woods on one side, field on the other. Not that I could see all that far. Snow flurries made vision past a point a little difficult.

“I can feel it,” Rose said. When I glanced up, she was looking over one shoulder. “I can see it, almost, standing between the patches of light.”

We flew past it. I could see its head turn to follow us. The drape it wore had no sleeves. It wore hides, almost white, except where the slush and dirt had marred it.

I had to move the rearview mirror to get a better view of it as we left it behind.

A sign of things to come? A harbinger?

My heart was pounding.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Something wearing a bird skull mask and tanned skins.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked, with a note of panic in her voice.

What am I going to do, you mean, I thought. You’re on the other side of a mirror.

“It’s gone,” I said.

“What? No. No it isn’t,” she answered. Panic was now highlighted by confusion, incredulity. “It’s close.”

I looked back, but the figure was nearly impossible to make out against the backdrop of falling snow.

“We left it behind,” I said, firmer.

“You got close, and it latched on,” Rose said. “Believe me on this.”

Again, I turned around, trying to see where it might have done so. Nothing outside the windows, nothing in the mirrors.

When I returned my attention to the road, my eyes darting up to the mirror, she insisted, “It did. It still feels like it’s here.”

I set my jaw. What was I supposed to do if it was? If it could reach out and grab the car with some invisible hand, or if there was something screwed up going on, then what options did I really have?

I didn’t have weapons. I didn’t have much of anything. Even information was scarce. How was I supposed to label the bird skull thing?

Cool imagery, but also, yeah Rose, there’s not much we can DO HERE. Blake fucked up by not grabbing himself something to swing at things.

It was only when I settled down, returning my attention to the drive ahead of me, that I saw the trouble.

The fuel gauge was dropping steadily.

It had been three quarters of the way full when I’d started driving. Now it was at the twenty percent mark.

The orange needle dropped faster with every passing second.

It had latched on, but not physically. Something else.

“The car’s dying,” I said.

“Gas station?” Rose asked.

“There’s a rest stop,” I said. “Restaurants, gas, bathrooms, stores. I think that’s what the sign said it was two kilometers away. Might be a bit further.”

Ten percent.

“Can you make it?”

Eight percent.

“No,” I said. “Not with the car.”

I watched as the needle stopped descending. No further to go.

The car shuddered, and the gas pedal quit on me. I saw the lights on the dash and the radio dim, then go out entirely.

I switched to neutral, hoping to coast, but there was nothing. I pulled over, instead. I tried to activate the hazard lights. No luck.

When I got my cell phone, a cheap non-smart phone, I found it dark.

I saw one car zip by on the other side of the divider. I hopped out, flailing my arms, but it was useless. Too little, too late.

Birb Guy can suck out.. energy? Or something? This is getting into horror territory quick and I like it

“Guess I’m walking,” I said. I drummed the steering wheel for a second, thinking. In front and behind me, the snow looked a pale blue in the moonlight, broken up by the dark shapes of trees. Here and there, the street lights tinted things orange. The road was a stripe of black in the gloom.

“Bring a mirror,” Rose said. “Please.”

I looked around. Nothing. Joel kept a neat car. Aside from an abundance of paperwork in the drive compartment, and between the front and passenger seats, it was tidy, and tidy meant it was easy to see there wasn’t anything like that nearby.

“Sorry, Joel,” I said. I reached up to grab the rear view mirror. There were tabs I needed to depress. I had to pull off my gloves to get a good grip. I fumbled with it some more.

“Blake,” Rose said. “Blake!”

I moved the mirror to look at her, and saw her pointing.

I turned.

Behind us, beyond a point where the snow obscured the road, I saw the dim orange of the street light flicker, then die, swallowed up by the swirl of white.

“No time to get the mirror, Rose,” I said. I made sure I had the other essentials. Hat, scarf, gloves, backpack, coat…

“Break it off?”

I reached up and pulled. It didn’t budge. I hit it with the side of my arm, with no more effect.

“I can’t,” I said.

“You cannot leave me here!” There was a note of hysteria in her voice.

I pulled out my cell phone. An older model I could slide open to get at the keyboard. The screen was scuffed badly from sitting in my pockets alongside change and my keys. “Does this work? There’s a reflection in the screen.”

“No,” she said. “Barely anything coming through”

I hesitated, then used my bag, looping the strap around the mirror. I hauled down with almost all of my weight.

It snapped off.

Fuck man, poor Joel. But also, can’t she just jump to a mirror on the house? No maybe its dangerous there. She can only jump between reflection with people on it I’m guessing, and it scares her whenever she has to. But… wait, didn’t she disappear from the mirror at Joel’s to the mirror in the car? I need more details on this. Again, it has been hard to picture it exactly.

“Good,” I said. “With me?”

“With you,” she said.

I hopped out of the car, heading into the back seat to search for anything I could use. There were a pair of skates, a bag laid out flat with a suit inside, clearly Joel’s. When I lifted up the panel at the back of the car, I found the spare tire and a slot for the tire iron. I grabbed the iron.

I left the car behind, pausing one second to lock it, and then got moving. I maintained a speed that was faster than an ordinary walk, not quite a jog. Busy walking, I jammed the mirror in the front pocket of my coat, so one end stuck out. My hands went in my pockets, one end of the tire iron finding the inside pocket, the length resting against my forearm. I hunched over to help shield my face with the collar of my coat, preparing. Conserving strength, conserving heat.

I was a fast walker. Two kilometers… that was about twenty minutes?

That seems about right, I use the metric that I had going to school every day back then, it was 1,6 Km away and it took me around 15 minutes to get there. Also, is this book going to have the non-american system of measurement? Please Wildbow, I HATED going back and forth in google to check how many stupid feet things in Worm were.

I didn’t want to go so fast that I’d have to stop before I got to shelter. So long as I kept moving, I was warm. When I stopped, the cold would set in. Twenty minutes of brisk walking.

When I finally broke and glanced back, I saw there were less lights than before. The thing was following me. I couldn’t be sure of the speed it was moving, given how it was out of sight. I couldn’t tell, either, if it was catching up.

“Talk to me, Rose,” I mumbled, past my scarf and the collar of my coat. “Can you feel it getting closer?”

There was no reply. I drew my free hand from the pocket and pulled the mirror free.

Fat, wet flakes of snow had clustered against the surface. With one hand, I rubbed it against my thigh.

Beads of water still obscured the surface.

“Rose?” I tried.

There was no response. Already, the mirror was fogging up from the momentary warmth and the moisture.

If the cell phone hadn’t worked because it was scuffed, then this might be having the same problems. I needed a clear reflection, apparently.

Huh, weird, alright.

I picked up the pace a little. I placed the mirror inside my coat, in the slot where I was supposed to stick my phone. Closer to my body, warmer, where my shirt and the pocket could maybe dry off the moisture. The ‘arm’ of the mirror rubbed against my chest as I marched.

The snow that had piled up at the edge of the road, before the ditch that divided the highway from the nearby fields meant I had to walk out on the road itself. Walking through the snow would slow me down, and I needed speed. I was in a dangerous position, ready to be clipped by a car in the cruising lane.

My heart thudded in my chest. A short walk, I reassured myself.

I looked back, to look for cars, and to see the thing’s progress.

It was close enough for me to make it out. It was making long, powerful strides, at a speed I couldn’t have maintained without risking collapse. The hides it wore flew out to the side as the legs moved, but I couldn’t make out the legs themselves.

I pushed myself a fraction faster, but I knew it wasn’t quite enough to make a difference.

Still, there were no cars on the road. I needed one passerby. One person to stop and offer me a lift.

Except I couldn’t be sure it would work. They might find themselves running out of gas in some inexplicable manner. Then the good Samaritan would be caught up in this.

I glanced back. It was closer, closing the distance with every step.

The wind picked up, and I had to close my eyes in the face of the headwind. There were tears in my eyes when I opened them. Totally the wind. My army surplus boots squeaked against the soft snow and crunched against the harder snow as I marched.

Blake is sometimes so angry but other times so fucking calm. Rule of thumb is, if you can make out the thing, RUN. Also, is he so scared he’s crying?

I heard a fluttering noise. Turning to look, I saw that one of the flaps of hide were whipping around in the wind. The footsteps, by contrast, were nearly silent. No squeaks, no crunches, no cracks of ice being broken or scuffs of salt and pavement underfoot.

It was close enough for me to hear.

Better now than never. I turned around, drawing out the tire iron.

“Fine!” I roared the words against the wind. I drew the tire iron from my pocket, gripping it with gloved hands. I could feel how cold the metal was. “You want me!?”

It closed the distance. Two feet taller than me, and I was a notch taller than average. The point of the giant bird mask came dangerously close as I swung the tire iron, bending my legs as I swung low, to strike it in the knee.

Oh no, feet, my worst nemesis >:(

I had only a moment to register the fact that it wasn’t reacting before it drew a hand out of the layered covering of hides. A mitt of a hand, gray-skinned, with knobby knuckles, and fingernails that were just long enough they were starting to curl, almost rectangular. Dirty, uneven, frayed.

I swung again, a two-handed grip on the iron, aiming for the hand.

I might as well have struck another tire iron, for all it mattered. The weapon bounced off the hand, the hand was knocked back, and then it clawed at my face. I twisted partially away, keeping it from getting my eyes, and felt the pain in my cheek, instead. I backed away, and my scarf stayed. Caught in the ragged ends of the nails.

The wind was cold against my face as I backed up. I started to head back in the direction of the rest stop, but the thing circled around me, moving past me, until it was positioned to cut me off.

My scarf was caught by the wind, flapping mercilessly, until it tore free, disappearing over the dividing line of the highway.

I raised the tire iron again, drawing closer. It, in turn, drew one arm out from beneath the hides. I drew back a step, and it kept the hand out a moment before returning it to shelter.

“Rose,” I spoke, “Hey, Rose. You gotta help me out here.”

The mirror was silent.

I can’t believe Blake is dying on chapter 2 :o I say this as just last month I finished reading IT HURTS!!! I’m not going to say anything. But definitely CHECK THAT SHIT OUT ITS A SUPER FUCKING GOOD COMIC, REALLY EMOTIONAL AND HILARIOUS, THE TITLE MAKES SO MUCH SENSE, SHIT, READ UNTIL COMIC NUMBER 100 AT LEAST THE ART GETS BETTERBYE

I backed away, and it moved, approaching with long strides that covered the distance with surprising speed.

I stopped, and it stopped.

“Don’t want me to go to the rest stop,” I murmured. There was a hitch in my voice. “Don’t want me to go back to the car. Where am I supposed to go? This way?”

I checked the way was clear, then took a step out onto the highway. It reacted, but only barely. Tensing. When I took another step, it followed. Letting me go, but not letting me escape.

“No way,” I said. Taking a step to the side, so I was as off the road as I could get without standing in the snowbank. “I get what you’re after. You want me to get hit by a car or something.”

The thing remained silent. Waiting. The perfectly round eye sockets stared at me.

I swung, aiming for surprise, directing the iron at the skull.

It caught the iron mid-swing. I tried to wrench the weapon free and failed.

Another hand emerged from beneath the hides. I had to let go of the weapon and back away before it could claw at me.

It took a half-step forward to follow. It dropped the tire iron onto the road, where the snow muffled the sound.

Standing still, waiting for this thing to make a move, I could feel my legs getting colder. I wasn’t wearing long johns. Boxer briefs and jeans, leaving my legs as the least covered part of my body. The cold highlighted the tension in my legs, where my earlier pace had stressed muscles I tended to leave unused.

Aha, I suspected actually, that this thing wasn’t malevolent. It only swung when he did.

How does this end, then?” I asked. “We wait out here by the side of the road until I freeze to death?”

I paced, watching how it followed. The knobby, long-fingered hand came out as I drew too close.

There was a hint of hysteria in my voice as I spoke, “Can’t go forward, can’t go back. I won’t go left. Will you let me go right?”

I edged towards the snowbank, to test. A ditch, then fields. The strong wind had blown the worst of the snow away. It wouldn’t be too deep.

I took another step. It moved to follow, though it let me create a bit of distance.

Slowly, I climbed over the snowbank. It continued to let me build up a bit of distance.

I hit the ditch, where some stubborn tall grass stuck up here and there, and hopped over the shallowest part, where the wind had driven snow off of the ice that had frozen in the recess.

The hop hadn’t inspired a sudden attack. Briefly turning my back, too, seemed like it was fairly safe.

That in mind, when I found flat ground under my feet again, I ran.

Yeah you do that. Just happened to wonder what would the thing do if Blake had thrown rocks at it, or started a snowball fight

The field was flat, the ground hard, and the snow only ankle deep. The deep treads of my boots gave me the traction I needed to find my pace. When the spaces filled up with snow, the snow-on-snow traction was still sufficient for me to maintain a good pace.

I slipped, but my other foot was already coming forward. I felt a twang in my back as I used the leg to thrust myself back up to a fully upright position. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling. I’d feel it tomorrow, if I made it that long.

A quick glance back indicated it was following with those same long, steady strides as before. Running was letting me create some distance.

Across the field, away from the highway, away from the car and the rest stop.

I was fully aware of what was going on. I knew it was intentional, and that this was as good a way of having me die in a perfectly plausible manner as keeping me in the middle of the highway, where a car could clip me.

Thing was, I’d never been able to sit still while under stress. I couldn’t bring myself to stand beside the side of the road and get cold.

Fear was taking my breathing and heartbeat up a few notches, which was hurting more than it was helping. There was a frantic note to my breathing as I panted, my legs ached, and my thoughts were a jumble.

“Rose,” I gasped out the name. I fumbled for the mirror, but my hands were frozen. I got a grip on the bar that was supposed to fix the mirror to the ceiling and pulled it out.

“-here.”

Her voice was faint, tiny, and muffled, cutting off as though someone had reached out to muffle her.

Not someone, but something. Fog, again, had clouded the mirror. I wiped it with my glove. I saw only a momentary glimpse of her.

Letting it get damp, then letting it get warm, both were mucking it up. I held it, letting it cool off, and tried to keep it facing down, so snow wouldn’t settle on the surface.

I kept running. I prayed for a side street, a side road, a house. Shelter. Something to indicate I wouldn’t keep running into the wilderness until I could no longer move. The snow got deeper as I approached tree cover, where the wind wasn’t as strong. My pace began to slow, with nothing of import in sight.

I could feel a sick feeling in my gut, a combination of fear, despair, and the exhaustion of running.

I saw a figure up ahead, through the tree cover.

A quick glance back showed me the other one was still following. Closing the gap.

“Hello!” I called out, and I was surprised at how hoarse my voice was, my throat made raw by the heavy breathing of frozen, dry air. “Help me!”

The figure pushed through the cover of branches.

If it’s the thing I’m going to laugh a lot. 20% chance though.

A bird skull, a covering of overlapping hides, bleached white and stained, and a heavy wreath of branches around the neck and shoulders, like a nest.

I stopped in my tracks. When I took in my surroundings, my vision swam, struggling to make the adjustment from the narrow focus on where I was going and where my feet were landing to the broader environment.

There, in the distance, in a gap between neat rows of trees. A third, with the hides forming a hood over the bird skull. Shorter than the others.

I turned to head for the widest gap I could make out, and they all moved, not to close the distance to me, but to cut me off. The calf-deep snow didn’t slow them down. Even if it did, they had a longer stride, and they weren’t getting tired.

I pushed on, moving towards the gap, forcing myself to run. They continued to follow, but I made it between the ones with the antlers and the wreath.

Backtracking, almost. I needed to devote a second to getting my bearings, but I had to keep running.

“Rose,” I said.

I heard only a whisper of a noise. I wiped the mirror against the side of my leg, mid-run.

I came face to face with another of the bird-skulls, not looking carefully enough for the white skull and white hides against the snowy background. It clawed at me, backhanded, and dashed the mirror out of my hands. I fell, a result of the combined impact, pain and surprise, landing just beside the flecks of blood he’d clawed from my hand. My glove was cut, the skin around it exposed, and a line of blood was nestled in the center. Bewildered, I watched as the skin parted and joined together, as I opened and closed my hand.

Man, these guys cut deep. Are they aiming at the mirror? I was also right-but-not-right.

The wind blew, and I heard the flapping of the hides moving. Others were drawing closer.

The one that had just attacked me wore cords strung between hides, each with a long, narrow bone hanging from it.

The others were approaching, with some coming from a distance. All around me, there were clusters of evergreens, branches hanging heavy with ice and snow, and there were patches of grass. One clearing, where a pond had frozen over.

Slowly, I made my way to my feet.

I tested different directions, to see how they would react.

This time, they weren’t keen on letting me move towards any open ground. Clusters of trees, the pond, and areas where the snow had piled higher.

The pond, then. I made my way over, my wounded hand pressed to my chest by my other hand.

No mirror, no Rose.

Frozen earth crunched under my boots as I made my way to the frozen pond. Every footstep hurt.

Were they wanting me to try to cross? Was that the plan?

I sat by the bank instead.

I love how creepy this is. They are ferocious but just peaceful enough its disturbing. Also, is the reflection of a frozen lake enough? I wouldn’t know, never seen one.

I looked at the bird masks that had gathered formed a loose three-quarter circle around me.

“This okay with you bastards?” I asked. “Can I sit? You like this?”

The hides flapped in the wind.

“Motherfuckers,” I said. I moved my hands up to my armpits, squishing them beneath my arms. I could feel the pain in my wounded hand. My cheek felt tight where I’d been scratched.

I kicked at the ice on the pond. Methodical, careful strikes delivered with the heels of my boots, to break up the surface.

It took a good fifteen hits before the cracks spread.

I used the toe of my boot to flip one large, two-inch thick piece of ice out of the way.

“Please tell me reflections in water work too.”

“Yeah,” she responded.

“You see them?”

Oh fuck, yeah, good, it works. Weird and satisfying how a situation suddenly gets better when one person that doesn’t know what the shit is going on changes to one person who doesn’t know what the shit is going on and the voice of another person that we don’t know what they know. Just something about human behavior really, that we are so scared of being alone. We are pack animals, in the end.

“Yeah.”

“I went to a lot of trouble to talk to you,” I said, trying to ignore the looming individuals who were standing behind me. “I need more than one word answers.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not in immediate danger. You’re not in pain, I hope. They’re after me, not you. So I’m hoping you’re thinking a little clearer than I am.”

“Not- not really.”

I sighed.

A minute passed. I could feel the chill creeping in.

“I don’t think they’ve got brains in those skulls,” I said. “Someone gave them orders.”

“Makes sense. Who?”

“Does it matter? I think those orders are why they’re behaving this way. Barring my path to keep me from certain areas. Driving me away from shelter, wearing me out.”

“They want plausible deaths.”

“Yeah. Newspaper runs an article on page seven about the poor idiot who broke down by the side of the highway, wandered into the middle lane and got hit, or got lost in the woods. No mention of eerily patient bird-masked antler horrors. They interview my landlord, he mentions I was acting funny, and cousin Kathryn is the one who wakes up with spooky visions, a few hours later.”

“Go for an implausible death?”

“Not sure how I’m supposed to do that,” I said. I sighed, and my teeth chattered as the air passed through my lips. “All I can figure is they don’t want to claw me to death.”

“Molly was clawed to death,” Rose said.

I closed my eyes.

Way to go Rose. Yeah, really good suggestion, followed by a really sensitive response. Again, she is Rule63 Blake, so maybe Blake has it in him as much as Rose to be a sass master

“They don’t want to kill two of us the same way,” she said. “Molly was partially eaten, too, but I don’t think these guys are the type.”

“You can see them?”

“End of the pond,” she said. “There’s a reflection.”

I looked.

Another one had joined the ranks at some point, where I hadn’t been looking. Taller than the others, with two more bird skulls worn on sloped shoulders. He stood on the ice.

I bowed my head again. “How many?”

“No idea.”

“Is this where everything ends for me, Rose? Do I die here, an ignoble death, with the mantle passing to Kathryn? Do you carry on?”

“As a ghost?”

“As a whatever.”

“I don’t know. I think I’m bound to you, somehow.”

“Right,” I said.

I forced myself to my feet. I was shaking, now.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m not,” I said. “I just hate sitting still.”

Get angry Blake. ANGRY GETS SHIT DONE

“You need a plan.”

“Any fucking ideas?” I asked.

There was no response.

I moved, and they moved as well. Organizing, spreading out. I backed up, and they advanced.

I sat down again, regretting it instantly. Standing would be harder.

The three-masked one slowly removed one mask from its shoulder.

It dawned on me.

That mask was going to be mine.

My mind warred with my body. Every last part of me hated to sit still, was restless in the face of stress. But my body was starting to give up.

I was so tired, I felt like I had gone two straight days without sleep.

“No glimmers of light nearby?”

“Not really.”

“Define really.”

“I see patches of light. I think… even regular surfaces, they reflect light to some degree.”

“Sure. Listen, what I need to know is… which direction do I run?”

“Run?”

“I’ll take a guess, if you have to give me one, Rose. Just lie convincingly. I’ll lose heart if I don’t buy it.”

“Your three o’clock,” she said.

Nothing more. No details. No explanation on why it was the right direction.

Right.

I needed to run, but there weren’t any meaningful gaps, now.

If I assumed these things were stupid, that they were programmed or strictly following orders… if they’d been ordered not to hurt me unless it was in retaliation or because there was no other way to get past me…

I looked back at the one that stood on the ice.

Slowly, carefully, I stepped back onto the frozen pond.

The ice cracked. I drenched one boot. It was waterproof enough that only a trace of the freezing water touched my foot.

Too close to the break I’d made to talk to Rose.

“Blake?”

I circled around a bit further. The bird-masks at the leftmost edge began to take longer strides, to move around and cut me off.

This time, I stepped onto the ice with care, a distance from the break I’d made before.

I backed up, towards the one with three masks on the far end of the pond.

I watched as others stepped forward, maintaining a roughly even distance. I saw as the one with the wreath avoided the crack in the ice.

Oh? Is that a sign of something? They don’t seem to have legs, but they avoid the cold water and cracks. Maybe they are still weighty?

Each step was a careful one as I made my way towards the middle of the pond. I transferred my weight with care, doing my best to avoid putting too much weight on one point at once. The three-masked one moved to cut me off, keeping me on the ice.

I heard the faintest cracking sounds. Around me, not them.

I made a beeline straight for three-masks.

I saw the hands come out.

Woman’s hands, oddly enough, with flecks of nail polish still on one. Wizened, worn, abused, with bits of nail splintered off where they had maybe scraped violently against something.

The faint cracking sound intensified. The stress of my weight was going to break the ice right beneath me.

Right.

I ran, and the ones behind me ran to follow.

The ice didn’t break beneath them. My heart sank.

I collided head-on with three-masks, and felt her stab at my shoulders through my coat, clawing through fabric with no heed for her own well being. Frenzied, violent and noisy after the almost tranquil quiet.

Fuck. Well, okay, what’s going to be the external factor at play that will resolve this conflict, because I’m out of ideas.

I broke away, as best as I could, and she followed. I tried to find a path that would get her to back off, give me two seconds, and she refused to give it to me.

Up until I stepped onto the ice at the edge and it broke, soaking my boot. This time, it lapped around the skin at my calf, soaking my jeans. A glance back verified the others had stopped when I had started fighting.

Three-masks began stalking around, cutting off my retreat.

I didn’t care. Reaching down, I grabbed a snow-covered rock the size of my head, heaving at it. It was half-frozen into the earth. Prying it loose put it into the water, forcing me to get my uninjured hand wet to pick it up.

In one motion, full-body, I managed to heave it about three feet. I watched it bounce off the ice and slide, uselessly, towards the middle of the spread out bird-masks.

It lay there for a good ten seconds before the ice broke. I watched as the things plunged into the water.

Leaving me with only two to deal with.

WATER WORKS. YES. Doubt that it will be enough though. They can probably wisp out eventually. Maybe not. Maybe I’m being pessimistic.

I ran, fueled by desperation.

I ran, fueled by the adrenaline that pain was dumping into my body. Through shock and fear. Nothing conserved, nothing saved.

Thick trees tore at me, costing me my toque. My frozen hand and foot were throbbing, now, and my injured hand was so cold I couldn’t open my fist.

Every footstep hurt, and the only thing that kept me putting one foot in front of the other was the idea that one more of those things might appear to bar my way if I slowed down in the slightest.

I found the end of the trees. A strip of snow. A line of road.

Squat, short buildings, and a sign reading ‘truck inspection area’.

Headlights flared in my field of vision, blindingly bright.

I staggered forward, collapsing onto my hands and knees. I could hear a vehicle’s door open.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. If they came-

But there was nothing. The wind stirred swirls of snow across the road,

“Good god, man,” a deep voice said. “What the hell did you get yourself into?”

I thought about explaining, about the others. I’d sound crazy.

I thought about making an excuse, saying I was chased by some delinquent kids. It would get the police involved, and it would delay me.

“Car broke down,” I said, a little numb. “I thought I’d take a shortcut, got turned around. I- I- panicked. I started running and got hurt.”

“We’ll get you an ambulance, not to worry.”

“No. No, it’s not as bad as it looks. I’d be embarrassed,” I lied. I wasn’t sure where things stood. If they came after me while I was in the hospital, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk, let alone run.

“You look nearly dead.”

“I need to warm up. That’s all.”

I glanced over my shoulder, nervously. The things still hadn’t made an appearance. They should have caught up by now.

“If I don’t get you to a hospital, and you die-”

“I’m not going to die,” I said, not sure if I was lying. “Drop me off at the rest stop, I’ll warm up and get food. I’ll hitch a ride to where I need to be.”

“If you’re positive,” he said. “I don’t want you haunting me or anything, and I don’t want lawsuits either. I don’t make that much money.”

Good people will be good. Of course the nightmare creatures don’t appear when others are nearby.

He nodded. “Sure, then. You need help getting up?”

“Just a bit,” I admitted.

We made our way around, and I climbed up into the passenger seat. The heating was already on, and I held my hands out to warm them.

Looking out through the windshield, I could see a trace of pink in the sky.

Was that a rule, here? No monsters after sunrise, or no monsters when others could see?

The truck pulled away, moving down the long road. I could see the rear half of the rest stop creeping into my vision.

I made eye contact with Rose, in the side-view mirror.

She looked drained, haggard. Almost worse than I did.

She’d broken the mirror, and it had taken something out of her. To look this drained… she’d broken the ice, or she’d helped it along. A bit of an extra push.

Ah, geez, yeah, that sucks. So any surface she appears on needs to be maintained intact until she find another one to jump to, is that it?

The truck driver circled the long way around, pulling into the eighteen-wheeler’s spot for the rest stop. We climbed out and made our way to the shop opening, where employees were setting up at the fast food places.

As the truck driver talked to some employees, negotiating a way to get me to my stop, I saw a man in the corner with an oddly crooked stance, leaning against the wall as if his limbs wouldn’t hold him up, the whites of his eyes too white as he tracked us with his gaze. Staying out of the way, almost out of sight.

We’d have a relatively safe way to the house, soon enough. We couldn’t get there fast enough, for the shelter or the answers we could find there.

Eyes everywhere already. Hm, my theory is someone in the family, but I’m not sure they’d do that to each other. Maybe different groups in the family or maybe its really just Grandma Rose’s enemies, all those from the visions, except maybe the King & Dog. Maybe this is the aborigine woman? The biggest creature had nail polish, a woman’s arm. I’ll wait for a big picture of all this to speculate more! This chapter was much better already, I’m into it! Can’t wait to finish up this arc.

#CodeZeta liveblogs #pact #Pact1.1 #Pact1.2 #wildbow

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