[A couple hours later, they're moving through the shadows of the closed historical site, heading to the courthouse. Everything is locked up, but magic makes easy work of the locks, and they move into the silence of the wooden structure.]
I think the wall behind the magistrate's bench is a false one. That should lead us into the first portion of things.
[She glances back over her shoulder.]
Pick a buddy. Stay together.
[Liv hooks her arm in Luke's. "Being a twin does have it's advantages."]
[She moves to the threshold of the cloaked space, Bonnie nearby, and begins to chant the reversal for the cloaking spell. The power begins to grow, the chair Luke pointed out earlier starting to glow, up until the light glows so bright it washes over all of them, until there's nothing else they can see.
When the vision clears, they find themselves, thankfully in pairs, in different variations of an office or library. Bookcases and desks laden with draws take up most of the space in this small, cramped room. So many doors and drawers to search for the key in.
But the other thing they realize, is that they're not alone.]
Bonnie & Jo & Sheila & Kai | ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪs, ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ
( Bonnie has done the bright light before, but that was when she thought she was disappearing into oblivion beside her best friend. She holds David's grimoire close and slips an arm through Jo's.
The light dissipates quite quickly, like a movie, fading in from the bright white they were enveloped with a minute earlier.
Bonnie's eyes don't have to adjust, they're suddenly fine - with nothing obscuring them. Just a Beauty and the Beast style library before them. And, it must be said, it's the exact library from the seminal 90's classic. And they are, yes, cartoons. She's taken aback momentarily, how can she not be, but, for one instant, it's kind of fulfilling a big Bonnie fantasy of hers. Well, little Bonnie. )
After my mom left, and when my grams couldn't watch me, my dad would sit me in front of the TV. I had them all. Aladdin. Little Mermaid. Lion King. But, the VHS I got the most use out of was Beauty and the Beast. I can't even tell you how many times I watched it.
( She hugs the book close. )
Tell me this is the spell and we weren't just transported to the Beast's castle.
( Because, other than the fun Be Our Guest party and some singing, it's a pretty desolate place.
She may need a gentle reminder that this is their Chambre De Chasse. And then she'll apologize that she seemed to have usurped the location. )
Maybe it's simpler than we think. I've seen this movie a hundred times, I know the only book she reads to Beast. Not where it is...
( Which doesn't make it simpler. She huffs out, frowning.)
Think there's a Dewey Decimal system here?
( Some kind of card catalogue?
"Why was the Dewey Decimal system even created? I mean, they trained librarians. Literal gophers there to grab the books you need. Answer questions, walk along with their little carts. Huh. Librarians are kind of like little lemmings," Kai says from behind them, a book in his hand. He holds it up and along the spine and the front, it reads the volume Bonnie would look for. He may be a cartoon, and integrated, but his voice is still that of Jo's twin brother. "And then they created a system to make us fetch the books for ourselves. Beat you to it, Bon-Bon," he says, holding the book up, and tilting it back and forth. He kicks off the shelf he's leaning against and the book falls open in his hand."If you ask me, all King Arthur did was pull a sword from a stone. And don't get me started on the Lady of the Lake." He shuts the book again, seeing Bonnie's scowl, not addressing his sister. yet. "You didn't think that because I was a sociopath I didn't watch Beauty and the Beast like 100 times. Best portrayal of stockholm syndrome like, ever. I took notes.")
("I could pretend I don't know what's going on, accuse you both of your witchy, wiley, ways, but we both know where I've been pulled from. And that I know everything," he says. He tosses the King Arthur book at them and it lands with a thud. "Key's not in there. And, I kind of want to get out, too. Being integrated isn't the best thing that's ever happened to me, but, it beats what could."
Call it Crisis. Call it brother's intuition. Whatever awaits another fate he had is worse. Like, same song playing over and over, worse.
"So, anybody have any bright ideas," he says, rubbing his hands. "Anybody. Bueller."
Just be thankful that they're not sticking one hundred percent to the theme and you haven't come back as some kind of kitchen tool or piece of furniture.
[Jo scans over the library, before looking back at Bonnie.]
Do you want to split it by floor or right versus left?
( Shepherd leans against Annie, bracing himself for nonexistent impact. And then they're just somewhere else.
Shepherd and Annie don't know it, but it's a perfect representation if their two memories were combined as one. The room they're in is definitely Mouser, the store he worked in after he ran away, but it's lined with bookshelves. And where the glass cases of electronics should be, there are dewey decimal drawers with old-fashioned pulls. Along the walls are fun library posters from what Annie would remember. She'd take Serena to the library when she was younger. There's even a big sign explaining late fee times and consequences.
Shepherd turns around and the light from the sign out front still glows it's ever-dying neon white. The word, 'Mouser' lights up and dies down. He can almost hear the heat coming from it and he has to break his attention completely before turning back to her. He's fine. This is fine.
He shrugs. Down to business. )
We need to find a key.
( So that's what he'll focus on, moving to the first row of drawers. The front door opens and the bell rings with it. He looks up behind Annie, not recognizing the man.
[Annie can pick out the pieces of it that are familiar to her life, the remnants of the library where Serena would walk away with stacks of old CDs instead of books, music always the throughline of her life. When she got a little older and had her own allowance, they would hit a record store instead.
When she hears Bennett's voice, however, she's immediately distracted from the task at hand. It's been years since she's even looked at a picture of her brother, too worried about all the ways she failed him, but he's here? In this?
This can't be real. But in the end, all she can say is:]
("I know you blame yourself. And your sister," Bennett offers, an olive branch. Maybe an attempt for closure.
Shepherd frowns, squinting to see if there's anything on the edges of this memory. He has to be a figment, but he doesn't see the strings. And he can't draw any power from the spell. Not unless he finds a key. )
Distract the spell, I'll focus on the key.
( He speeds up his attempts, pulling drawer upon drawer open and shut, going down one column and back up. )
[Distract the spell. Okay. She can do that. She keeps her attention on her brother, and tries not to run for him, because that way certainly lies danger.]
I think Jennifer certainly deserves some of the blame, don't you think?
[One of them walked away from the confrontation between them, and it wasn't Bennett. Therefore it had to be Jennifer.
As Shep wanders through some of the drawers, a familiar voice curls from over his shoulder, low and enticing. "You always did have a way of getting those clever fingers where they didn't belong."]
("You can't deny your doubt like I can't tell you exactly what happened." Whether it be the magic, her mind, or something else. This works in a twisted way, twisted enough for her brother not to give up what did happen right away. Maybe he just wants time with her.
Shepherd's clever fingers freeze, head rising, gaze narrowing. He doesn't look. He doesn't have to. )
You're not here. You're dead. And before you try and convince me, or guilt me, it's your fault. You didn't give me any information. You used me and then made sure I'd come back. If it didn't work, or maybe because you just couldn't live without me. Either way. You boned yourself.
My doubt is wishful thinking. You and I both know that.
[Her doubts about Jennifer have become quieter and quieter over the years, the longer her sister stays away.]
Wouldn't you rather talk about something else? Your daughter, maybe?
[Let's talk about Serena. It's a much more neutral topic.
Patrick smirks, but doesn't move from his position behind him. If he forces him to look, then that's no fun. If Shep is going to look, he wants him to do it of his own accord.
"Now, who says I want to do either of those things? In the end, you did exactly what you were designed to do. I got what I wanted."
( Both siblings recognize the space itself right away. Its bones are the Whittemore campus' bar his sister once studied and worked in, that he definitely had gotten drunk in, but instead of being in the bar itself, they're back in the dry goods storage room. Luke saw it once when he followed his sister back there, bored, she on her break and he venting about the radiologist.
Except, instead of dry goods, there are office supplies. And a couple of cabinets. And it's kind of cramped? )
[Her eyes sweep over the space as she tries to see where a key could be stashed, backing slightly closer to her brother so that they can better swing around each other without getting in trouble, but as she slides along his back looking for boxes to start sorting through, she finds her face to face with the last person she expected to be leaning casually against one of the boxes in the back.]
.... Dad?
["Hello, Olivia." Joshua Parker straightens, looking over his youngest children at least a decade older than when he last saw them. "Luke. You both look well."]
( He's looking in the other direction, ready to check a few of the boxes in the other corner, but his dad's voice brings his head back around. He's not as wary as his sister, though he knows he should be. He remembers his father. But his sister got it worse than him. Probably because she was a woman. Or, she was... harder. And why shouldn't she be off of their massacre. )
[Liv's brow furrows, her head tipping slightly as she studies the visage of her father. True, he could be an illusion, but he doesn't fray at the edges the way an illusion would. Her hand tentatively reaches out, and Joshua steps back before she can touch him.
"You know better. You know these things have a catch."
She scowls, before nodding.]
That certainly sounds like a real dad.
[If he's a bribe, then he wouldn't have denied her.]
( The floor of Dahlia's cottage has the queen of Hell's throne inside the circle Freya used to spend a year at a time asleep. And the walls of Rowena's throne room surround them. Of the two entrances/exits Rowena expects - never mind the straw on the ground or the stove in the corner, the big pot, the fire - there are doors that have never been there. Doors on every side. Spaced a foot or two apart. Five each on all four sides as Rowena counts them. She nods, figuring this is the spell's doing. She walks through the straw, inspecting the ring of magic surrounding her throne. )
This is a powerful sleeping spell. Is this the one you were under?
("Some of my best work," Dahlia says. One second, she isn't there, and the next, she is sitting on Rowena's throne.
Rowena did encounter Dhalia, did some dark dealings, but it has been years and she only snuffs at the woman in her seat, the woman who hasn't aged as well as some of them in this room. )
Pay no mind to the distractions they conjure, Freya. One of these doors will lead us to the bodies.
( At least the spell got her hair and outfit right, she'd say, scanning her throne room. )
The space, yes, but the abundance of doors are... inaccurate. ( Usually, there are small inaccuracies. But, this spell is intricate. Intricate enough to conjure ghosts from their pasts. ) With my misfortune, I'll come face to face with Olivette. ( She tries one door and peers up at a brick wall. ) I suppose it's only a matter of opening the right door.
["Olivette? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." The familiar drawl saunters out of the shadows, suit still crisp and clean, his usual resting glance of annoyance on his face. He studies Dahlia on the throne and raises an eyebrow. "I believe that's my seat."
Because why torment his mother when he could ignore her instead. That is a torment in and of itself.
Freya raises an eyebrow before glancing back to Rowena. Should they be concerned?]
( Why wouldn't it be Fergus. Her son. The former king of Hell himself.
"Why is everybody so preoccupied with leading a hellscape full of immoral black eyed liabilities," Dahlia asks, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand.
Rowena doesn't seem fazed. Dismissing her son as he dismisses her. )
He's nothing to be concerned about. A dead son should be more concerned about his mother than a throne made of stone. I wanted it redecorated, you see. ( She turns to Freya. ) Hell's always been one style.
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everyonelives2025-07-26 07:05 pm
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[A couple hours later, they're moving through the shadows of the closed historical site, heading to the courthouse. Everything is locked up, but magic makes easy work of the locks, and they move into the silence of the wooden structure.]
I think the wall behind the magistrate's bench is a false one. That should lead us into the first portion of things.
[She glances back over her shoulder.]
Pick a buddy. Stay together.
[Liv hooks her arm in Luke's. "Being a twin does have it's advantages."]
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His sister's a no-brainer. Shepherd nods once in Annie's direction, setting a hand on her back.
Bonnie looks between Rowena and Freya - and Jo. Bonnie provided the book, so she steps closer to Jo. Rowena winks at Freya settling nearer to her. )
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[She moves to the threshold of the cloaked space, Bonnie nearby, and begins to chant the reversal for the cloaking spell. The power begins to grow, the chair Luke pointed out earlier starting to glow, up until the light glows so bright it washes over all of them, until there's nothing else they can see.
When the vision clears, they find themselves, thankfully in pairs, in different variations of an office or library. Bookcases and desks laden with draws take up most of the space in this small, cramped room. So many doors and drawers to search for the key in.
But the other thing they realize, is that they're not alone.]
Bonnie & Jo & Sheila & Kai | ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪs, ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ
The light dissipates quite quickly, like a movie, fading in from the bright white they were enveloped with a minute earlier.
Bonnie's eyes don't have to adjust, they're suddenly fine - with nothing obscuring them. Just a Beauty and the Beast style library before them. And, it must be said, it's the exact library from the seminal 90's classic. And they are, yes, cartoons. She's taken aback momentarily, how can she not be, but, for one instant, it's kind of fulfilling a big Bonnie fantasy of hers. Well, little Bonnie. )
After my mom left, and when my grams couldn't watch me, my dad would sit me in front of the TV. I had them all. Aladdin. Little Mermaid. Lion King. But, the VHS I got the most use out of was Beauty and the Beast. I can't even tell you how many times I watched it.
( She hugs the book close. )
Tell me this is the spell and we weren't just transported to the Beast's castle.
( Because, other than the fun Be Our Guest party and some singing, it's a pretty desolate place.
She may need a gentle reminder that this is their Chambre De Chasse. And then she'll apologize that she seemed to have usurped the location. )
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[Her eyes scan over the spiraling staircase and book cases, before she lets out a heavy breath.]
It also means lots of places to look for keys.
[This ... is going to take a while.]
Hopefully they're both in this room and we don't have to go somewhere else.
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( Which doesn't make it simpler. She huffs out, frowning. )
Think there's a Dewey Decimal system here?
( Some kind of card catalogue?
"Why was the Dewey Decimal system even created? I mean, they trained librarians. Literal gophers there to grab the books you need. Answer questions, walk along with their little carts. Huh. Librarians are kind of like little lemmings," Kai says from behind them, a book in his hand. He holds it up and along the spine and the front, it reads the volume Bonnie would look for. He may be a cartoon, and integrated, but his voice is still that of Jo's twin brother. "And then they created a system to make us fetch the books for ourselves. Beat you to it, Bon-Bon," he says, holding the book up, and tilting it back and forth. He kicks off the shelf he's leaning against and the book falls open in his hand."If you ask me, all King Arthur did was pull a sword from a stone. And don't get me started on the Lady of the Lake." He shuts the book again, seeing Bonnie's scowl, not addressing his sister. yet. "You didn't think that because I was a sociopath I didn't watch Beauty and the Beast like 100 times. Best portrayal of stockholm syndrome like, ever. I took notes." )
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[But other than that, she's mostly going to ignore him, because that's besides the point.]
I also wouldn't talk smack about the Lady of the Lake. I heard she's a scarier witch than the stories give her credit for.
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Call it Crisis. Call it brother's intuition. Whatever awaits another fate he had is worse. Like, same song playing over and over, worse.
"So, anybody have any bright ideas," he says, rubbing his hands. "Anybody. Bueller."
Shut up. Let us think.
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[Jo scans over the library, before looking back at Bonnie.]
Do you want to split it by floor or right versus left?
[She'll handle distracting her brother.]
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Shep & Annie & Bennett & Patrick | ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ
Shepherd and Annie don't know it, but it's a perfect representation if their two memories were combined as one. The room they're in is definitely Mouser, the store he worked in after he ran away, but it's lined with bookshelves. And where the glass cases of electronics should be, there are dewey decimal drawers with old-fashioned pulls. Along the walls are fun library posters from what Annie would remember. She'd take Serena to the library when she was younger. There's even a big sign explaining late fee times and consequences.
Shepherd turns around and the light from the sign out front still glows it's ever-dying neon white. The word, 'Mouser' lights up and dies down. He can almost hear the heat coming from it and he has to break his attention completely before turning back to her. He's fine. This is fine.
He shrugs. Down to business. )
We need to find a key.
( So that's what he'll focus on, moving to the first row of drawers. The front door opens and the bell rings with it. He looks up behind Annie, not recognizing the man.
"Mei-mei," his voice says affectionately. )
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When she hears Bennett's voice, however, she's immediately distracted from the task at hand. It's been years since she's even looked at a picture of her brother, too worried about all the ways she failed him, but he's here? In this?
This can't be real. But in the end, all she can say is:]
How? How are you here?
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( "I know you blame yourself. And your sister," Bennett offers, an olive branch. Maybe an attempt for closure.
Shepherd frowns, squinting to see if there's anything on the edges of this memory. He has to be a figment, but he doesn't see the strings. And he can't draw any power from the spell. Not unless he finds a key. )
Distract the spell, I'll focus on the key.
( He speeds up his attempts, pulling drawer upon drawer open and shut, going down one column and back up. )
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I think Jennifer certainly deserves some of the blame, don't you think?
[One of them walked away from the confrontation between them, and it wasn't Bennett. Therefore it had to be Jennifer.
As Shep wanders through some of the drawers, a familiar voice curls from over his shoulder, low and enticing. "You always did have a way of getting those clever fingers where they didn't belong."]
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Shepherd's clever fingers freeze, head rising, gaze narrowing. He doesn't look. He doesn't have to. )
You're not here. You're dead. And before you try and convince me, or guilt me, it's your fault. You didn't give me any information. You used me and then made sure I'd come back. If it didn't work, or maybe because you just couldn't live without me. Either way. You boned yourself.
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[Her doubts about Jennifer have become quieter and quieter over the years, the longer her sister stays away.]
Wouldn't you rather talk about something else? Your daughter, maybe?
[Let's talk about Serena. It's a much more neutral topic.
Patrick smirks, but doesn't move from his position behind him. If he forces him to look, then that's no fun. If Shep is going to look, he wants him to do it of his own accord.
"Now, who says I want to do either of those things? In the end, you did exactly what you were designed to do. I got what I wanted."
He winces, before shrugging.
"There were just some unexpected consequences."]
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Luke & Liv and & Joshua & Josiah | ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʟᴇᴇᴘ
Except, instead of dry goods, there are office supplies. And a couple of cabinets. And it's kind of cramped? )
Yeah, they're mixing metaphors.
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[Her eyes sweep over the space as she tries to see where a key could be stashed, backing slightly closer to her brother so that they can better swing around each other without getting in trouble, but as she slides along his back looking for boxes to start sorting through, she finds her face to face with the last person she expected to be leaning casually against one of the boxes in the back.]
.... Dad?
["Hello, Olivia." Joshua Parker straightens, looking over his youngest children at least a decade older than when he last saw them. "Luke. You both look well."]
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( He's looking in the other direction, ready to check a few of the boxes in the other corner, but his dad's voice brings his head back around. He's not as wary as his sister, though he knows he should be. He remembers his father. But his sister got it worse than him. Probably because she was a woman. Or, she was... harder. And why shouldn't she be off of their massacre. )
He's not real.
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"You know better. You know these things have a catch."
She scowls, before nodding.]
That certainly sounds like a real dad.
[If he's a bribe, then he wouldn't have denied her.]
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( "The two of you, always so sure," another voice says. This one comes from right behind Liv. But there wasn't someone there a second ago, right? )
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Rowena & Freya & Dahlia & Crowley | ʜᴀʀᴅᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ
This is a powerful sleeping spell. Is this the one you were under?
( "Some of my best work," Dahlia says. One second, she isn't there, and the next, she is sitting on Rowena's throne.
Rowena did encounter Dhalia, did some dark dealings, but it has been years and she only snuffs at the woman in her seat, the woman who hasn't aged as well as some of them in this room. )
Pay no mind to the distractions they conjure, Freya. One of these doors will lead us to the bodies.
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[Freya does meet Dahlia's eyes - interesting that she is the one chosen for this particular distraction - but, glances away immediately.]
At least if the spaces are familiar, we have an idea of where to look for the keys.
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The space, yes, but the abundance of doors are... inaccurate. ( Usually, there are small inaccuracies. But, this spell is intricate. Intricate enough to conjure ghosts from their pasts. ) With my misfortune, I'll come face to face with Olivette. ( She tries one door and peers up at a brick wall. ) I suppose it's only a matter of opening the right door.
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Because why torment his mother when he could ignore her instead. That is a torment in and of itself.
Freya raises an eyebrow before glancing back to Rowena. Should they be concerned?]
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"Why is everybody so preoccupied with leading a hellscape full of immoral black eyed liabilities," Dahlia asks, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand.
Rowena doesn't seem fazed. Dismissing her son as he dismisses her. )
He's nothing to be concerned about. A dead son should be more concerned about his mother than a throne made of stone. I wanted it redecorated, you see. ( She turns to Freya. ) Hell's always been one style.
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