UStuck RP: The Dark Arts and Crafts

Bri locked eyes with him, "Hello, Mr. Verdigris. " She grabbed his hand firmly and gave it one hard shake. "There are a few things to clear up before we get started. First, you may call me Ms. Kennedy. Not 'groovy gal' or any other nickname. Second, I would appreciate you toning down your use of slang, I barely understood your email. Third, you did contact me about a haunted doll, correct? It was unclear if the ghost was in a doll, or in some food items, or something else. I only work with haunted dolls, as my online profiles clearly state."

Bri noticed the glitter fountain person and another guy staring at her, the latter hanging onto a sandwich for what appeared to be dear life. She squinted at the sandwich. Didn't look like roast beef. Or look haunted. She nudged Toasty and whistled a soft, nearly inaudible command. He trotted over to investigate the sandwich. Just in case.

"Assuming that's in order, where is the doll, and what is its current status? Your email sounded urgent - I'm not sure what you meant by 'going Ghostbusters classic,' but I can't imagine it meaning anything good."

 

Lorcan needed a look at that email. "Uh, yes. Just a second, Ms. Kennedy." He pulled out his phone and started navigating to the email app. It was an old flip phone, it still used buttons, look maybe Lorcan was due for an upgrade or two but he rarely used the thing anyways, okay? But he had it set up with email, so it didn't take too long to find the message in question.

God dammit, Vulk.

He wondered if "my familiar wrote that" would sound convincing, or if it'd just seem like he was saving face. His mother had never really approved of blaming the familiar. Or blaming other people. Even when it was their fault. No, Lorcan thought, he wasn't going to get caught up in the Greg thing again. Lorcan hadn't done his due diligence then with the doll, and he hadn't done his due diligence making sure Vulk could send emails like an adult. Better not to make excuses. Maybe later once he'd shown Ms. Kennedy his responsible side, he could explain. Worst case scenario, she never warmed up to him and he never got the chance to work with her again. No big loss.

Okay, that was a lie. Lorcan's days as an angsty necro teen might be over, but that didn't mean he couldn't find death magic interesting from a purely intellectual viewpoint. And exorcism was one of the few arts dealing with the dead that didn't come with all the stigma of necromancy. He was...tentatively interested in learning Ms. Kennedy's methods. As well as why she only worked with dolls.

But to focus on the task at hand. Lorcan mentally fired up his Vulk-to-English translator. "Yes, the ghost is haunting a doll. 'Ghostbusters classic' just refers to an incursion of powerful spirits on the physical plane. It's kind of a catch-all, though I don't think we're going to have to worry about spirits, plural. Unfortunately, our ghost is currently about...eighty-five to ninety...years old, I didn't get a good look, and it's ended up at the Ace Hardware on Clark. I don't think I need to tell you how bad that is...Ms. Kennedy."

 

Okay, well, it was weird how different he sounded in person than in email, but Bri certainly appreciated how much he course-corrected. Enough she almost felt a little bad about ripping him a new one straight out the gate.

"All right then, let's head over there now. On the way, tell me about the nature of the haunting. Is the doll scrawling messages, talking, moving around when you aren't looking, that sort of thing? Do they have a name, and do you know anything about their past life?" Bri did some mental math - 85 to 90 put the start of the timeframe at about the thirties. Maybe the soul was a war victim? "Where did they come from?"

Wait. 'Ended up at'?

"...And what do you mean, they've 'ended up at' the Ace Hardware?" She hoped this wasn't currently in the possession of a child. Even if the spirit weren't dangerous, wresting a toy from a kid was never a great experience for anyone involved.

 

"The thing's floating, messing with my lights, and also it tried to knife us on the way out. All my sh-stuff's plastic, so it wasn't a big thing, but I think are well past the passive-aggressive haunting stage. Then when we were trying to contain it, the ghost may have been violently ejected from the building. Mistakes were made. I'd rather not say more. It must have made its way to the store on its own. I don't know for sure what it's doing there, but I'd bet it's looking to gain more power."

He continued, "I...don't actually know anything about the ghost's life, or name. We'd have to ask Greg, I think. We should probably introduce you to the others anyways," he said, nodding over to their table. Though Lorcan honestly got the impression Greg didn't know much about the ghost either. "Is that information necessary for the exorcism?" Please say no.

 

Oh.

Oh that's real bad.

Maybe Bri should've brought Lola, too.

"Yes, please introduce us. The information..." Bri wobbled a hand, "...it helps. And can mean the difference between a spirit sent away to rest, or a spirit locked in a box you hope no one ever touches again."

Bri glanced back at the table, hoping one of the people there was Greg- oh, Toasty, did your manners wash off in the rain?

 

"This exorcist is great," Vulk announced to the others. "She's a total pro. Only exorcises dolls. I found her profile, you know!" It was important that everybody knew that. Lorcan never seemed to give Vulk credit for the work he did. Vulk didn't know why--he was great at it! Never any problems what-so-ever.

"She lives on a farm, which is far out," he continued. "Groovy, I mean, not like, far out. But it is pretty far out." Sometimes--only sometimes, mind you--Vulk wondered if his commitment to the language of his people made him hard to understand. "Communing with nature is way radical. I'd commune with nature except that TV isn't nature. Yet. I keep asking Lorcan to bring one to life so we could watch stuff outside his grungy apartment, but he's 'worried about being responsible for the robot uprising'. Which is silly. I almost never uprise against Lorcan, I dunno why a TV would. Except maybe if the TV is alive it might not want to watch the same shows as me and that's bad."

Was anyone even listening to him? Sometimes Lorcan tuned him out because he was annoyed or maybe asleep. Humans did that sometimes.

"If there's something straaaaange," Vulk started. "In the neighborhood. Who you gonna call? Bri Kennedy!" He snaked his power cord towards somebody's glass and tapped out a beat on its side. Lorcan said not to do, he'd knock something over and he had no sense of rhythm anyways, but Lorcan was a no-fun square who wasn't here to stop him. "If there's something weeeeeeeird! And it don't look good! Who you gonna call?! BRI KENNEDY!"

"Da nah-nah nah, nah-nah-nah. Nah." Hm. Maybe it was possible Vulk didn't remember that song as well as he thought he did. "Naaaah nah nah."

Vulk's absolutely perfect one-hundred-percent flawless beat was interrupted by footsteps. Two sets of footsteps. Approaching the table. Uh oh. Lorcan did noooooot look happy.

"Okay..." Lorcan finally said, rubbing his temples. "Every, single part. Of what you were just doing. I'm going to need you to not do that. For the remainder of the job."

"YOU NEVER LET ME HAVE ANY FUN LORCAN."

 

Aki waited until Vulk's attention was completely absorbed in sulking, before leaning over and whispering "I ain't afraid of no ghost," and was rewarded by seeing him jump several inches.

 

Lorcan sprung forward quickly to steady his familiar as he landed. Vulk was not typically capable of achieving vertical lift, but he was much better at the upwards part than the downwards. And as he liked to mention, Vulk was fragile.

Lorcan glanced over at Aki. "Please don't do that again."

 

"Hmm?" Aki looked up from the mouthful of curry she'd just taken, her best innocent expression on her face, the one that managed to fool Seth about twenty percent of the time. "Do what?"

 

Lorcan gave her The Look. "I take care of two dozen tsukumogami who don't know how to keep their nonexistant hands to themselves. They all believe they have perfected that innocent face you're wearing. Keep in mind," he pointed out, "none of them have faces. I can smell guilt a mile away. I'll say it one more time: don't spook my familiar."

Lorcan smiled, dropped The Look, and--oh god. He sounded just like his mother.

No no no. He was twenty-six, for crying out loud! He was way too young to be having a mid-life crisis!! Stifle that thought, Lorcan told himself. You've got other crises to deal with.

Softly, Vulk whispered to himself, "Ghostbusters..."

 

Aki kept chewing until Lorcan looked away again and stuck out her tongue at his back, to the audible amusement of Vulk, who high fived her with his plug and joined in on the "Da na na na" parts.

 

The hardware store. The goddamn hardware store. Of course the doll abomination went to the goddamn hardware store. Maybe it had recovered from last night’s incident. Or they were going to have to deal with singing paint. Also, the cashier guy might be a little mad at him for the small, very small explosion. It only took out three pieces of wood. And was somewhat Musić’s fault since she decided to destroy his ward in a way that made it extremely unstable. Stupid nail polish removal.

Well, if the paint was still singing, maybe it had learned a different song. If he had to listen to the paint sing "Colors of the Wind" from Pocahontas again, he was going to, well, he’d figure something out. Possibly something without explosions even.

Greg kept an eye on Lorcan when he went up to talk to the woman who had walked in. She looked down to earth and muddy. So, either Vulk had emailed a random person who was very confused, or she knew her stuff. In Greg’s experience, the older and less loud a person was, the better they knew their craft. Granted, he really only knew Ms. Farina and his family and Kitty and some of Kitty’s playmates, but still.

Greg decided to let Lorcan take point with the new lady (who was chewing Lorcan out for being unprofessional. Greg was going enjoy that while it lasted) and turned back to his sandwich. Ms. Farina made the best food, and he was absolutely going to enjoy this and…

When he looked up from his sandwich, there was a dog. A dog who looked like he was thinking about stealing his sandwich.

Greg ignored Vulk and Aki’s and Lorcan’s antics in favor of holding a staring contest with the dog. He had the strangest feeling that if he blinked or looked away, the dog would steal his sandwich.

 

AN INTERLUDE:

Group text: Mom, Dad, Vaughn, Aislin, Lorcan (me)

(3 days ago)

[118 new messages]

Aislin: And then I check my phone which is basically dead from getting A MILLION TEXT MESSAGES

Aislin: Plus, my phone automatically chunks up texts when they get too big this is the twitter fiasco all over again

Vaughn: Ur a tortured genius sis.

Aislin: I don’t appreciate your sarcasm and choose not to respond to it

Vaughn: Sounds fake but ok.

Vaughn: U think maybe the problem is we have too many group texts?

Aislin: I don’t follow

Vaughn: We’ve got this one where we plot against Rosedaisy.

Vaughn: & the one where we plot against Lorcan.

Aislin: Our prerogative as older siblings

Vaughn: The one where we plot against u.

Aislin: I have to give you a fighting chance somehow

Vaughn: The one where u plot against me.

Aislin: Shit who told you

Vaughn: Little birdie

Aislin: Edgar

Aislin: I thought he was a raven but it turns out he’s a mole

Vaughn: Edgar?

Aislin: New summons, check the Lorcan chat

Vaughn: Oh ok. But yea, what if we didn’t have like 10 group texts just for scheming?

Aislin: Then we’d have to stop scheming

Vaughn: I see ur point nvm.

Aislin: The schemes are fine I just think we should set up a chat server or something bring our evil into the modern era

Aislin: Right now it’s just like oh my god stop texting me

Vaughn: I think you mean ^omg

Vaughn: Seeing as ur so modern and all

Aislin: Vaughn if you try to put words in my mouth I will have my familiar put some words in yours

Aislin: And I remind you how very literal he is

Vaughn: Okay chill Aislin no need to bring in the squid. It is

Vaughn: ~nbd~

Aislin: I don’t care if I intended to use textspeak I would have

Vaughn: ^idc

Aislin: Your tongue’s about to be calamari

Vaughn: Sorry geez. I’m attempting dadhood soon I have to practice this stuff.

Vaughn: How else will I embarrass my beloved spawn if I can’t struggle at being hip to the young people?

Vaughn: I guess I could try acting deeply offended by swears.

Aislin: For fuck’s sake Vaughn

Vaughn: *gasp* Language.

Vaughn: ^ffs

Lorcan (me): My phone cant do chats.

Aislin: FOR FUCK’S SAKE

Aislin: UPGRADE YOUR DANG PHONE LORCAN

Vaughn: ty

Lorcan (me): This ones fine.

Aislin: Swear to god Lorcan

Vaughn: ^stg

Aislin: You barely use the phone you have I PROMISE if you get a better one it won’t evolve into Skynet and kill us all

Lorcan (me): You dont know that.

Aislin: Yes I do it’s called the power of love and bullshit we trust you not to destroy the world or whatever by accident

Vaughn: Yea.

Vaughn: Do it on purpose.

Lorcan (me): I hate you both.

Aislin: You’re not helping Vaughn

Vaughn: I for one welcome our new overlord brother.

Aislin: Fuck you

Lorcan (me): Fuck you.

Vaughn: <3

Mom: Oh good, I see I’ve dropped in at a nice time.

Aislin: Hi mom

Vaughn: Hi mom!

Lorcan (me): Hi mom.

Lorcan (me): Dammit

Aislin: Snooze ya lose

Vaughn: Language.

Aislin: Good to see you in the Plotting-Against-Rosedaisy texts Mom

Aislin: So why are we plotting today

Mom: I just wanted to let you all know Rosedaisy’s calculus midterm is next week and she’s been very keyed up over it.

Mom: Yesterday I caught her tearing out pages of her textbook so she could, quote, “absorb the answers through os-smoke-sis”.

Vaughn: Yikes.

Mom: I don’t even think she was planning a working, I think she was just *that* stressed.

Mom: I’ve explained to her that if it’s causing her that much panic I’d rather she look after herself than get a good grade, but she’s already close to failing and really doesn’t want to take the class again.

Lorcan (me): Why are you telling us this?

Mom: Because Rose is already scared she won’t have enough time to study properly. She actually tried leaving dinner early tonight to go over her notes again.

Vaughn: *gasp*

Aislin: No

Lorcan (me): …

Mom: So to make sure Rosedaisy is going to have enough time to study and take care of herself, the three of you are going to have to take care not to distract her. You know how she gets when anything remotely mysterious crosses her path.

Vaughn: We are aware yes.

Mom: That means if you run into any excitement in the next week or so you’re going to need to keep it to yourself.

Aislin: But Mom, what if Old Man Jenkins is running around spooky houses scaring teens and Rose is the only one who can get the Frankenstein mask off

Vaughn: But Mom what if a gold tycoon buried his fortune under a tree w/ a yellow ribbon but they all have yellow ribbons?

Aislin: But Mom what if someone brings Nancy Drew to life and the two of them decide to compete to see who truly is the greatest titian-haired girl detective in all the land

Vaughn: Nancy’s a pushover, she just kinda wandered around getting chloroformed iirc.

Aislin: How dare you Nancy Drew is a proto-feminist treasure and the only reason the word titian survives to the modern day

Aislin: Lorcan you try one

Lorcan (me): No. This game is stupid.

Aislin: Lorcan

Mom: Don’t call your sister stupid, Lorcan.

Lorcan (me): I’m not calling her stupid I just don’t want to play her stupid game.

Vaughn: Well somebody’s being a prickly cactus.

Vaughn: I think Lorcan's been spending too much time in his lair and not enough making ~friends~.

Lorcan (me): Fuck you.

Aislin: Lorcan chat

Vaughn: Lorcan chat.

Lorcan (me): Seriously? Mom tell them not to plot against me right to my face.

Vaughn: Ok we’ll do it behind ur back.

Lorcan (me): NO.

Mom: Just make sure not to get Rosedaisy involved.

Aislin: Course mom

Lorcan (me): Hey!

Mom: Anyways I just wanted to make sure you knew not to bother Rose this week. Bye, kids!

Vaughn: Bye, mom!

Aislin: Bye mom

Lorcan (me): Bye mom

Lorcan (me): fuck

Mom: Language.

Vaughn: Language

Vaughn: <3!

Aislin: You know this probably wouldn’t happen if you got a better phone

Aislin: How long does it take you to thumb-type everything ffs

Vaughn: <3!!

Lorcan (me): Thats it im stealing yours and turning it into Skynet.

Lorcan (me): Have fun in the robot apocalypse.

Aislin: Bring it on I eat androids for breakfast

Aislin: With fava beans and a nice chianti

Mom: Oh, I knew a sommelier who tried that once. The problem is Chianti is very tannic, it doesn’t go well with metallic flesh. Maybe a Beaujolais instead?

Lorcan (me): Given our ancestors history with cannibalism thats actually a really alarming joke Mom.

Vaughn: <3 <3 <3.

-

(earlier today)

[3 new messages]

Lorcan (me): So hey you know what ill play this game.

Lorcan (me): Mom what if i had a ghost but lost it and now its old and mad and covered in coffee and Rose is my only option before I have to resort to She Who Must Not Be Named?

Lorcan (me): Nvm see you soon.

 

INTERLUDE 2

Chatroom #TimeDatesForNoMan: speak_no_evil, TowerOfFlowers, teamTrashfire, she-who-must-be-obeyed, Dad

(3 days ago)

TowerOfFlowers: So Aislin what's this abt Edgar?

speak_no_evil: Technically his full name is Edgar Quoth

speak_no_evil: He's a raven

speak_no_evil: blackbird_singing_in_the_dead_of_night.jpg

TowerOfFlowers: I c ur a blossom of originality today sis.

speak_no_evil: He was named that when I got him Vaughn

speak_no_evil: Though I might try to work the Poe angle in somehow

speak_no_evil: I have Plans for this one

teamTrashfire: Oooooh new summons what what??

teamTrashfire: What schemes tell me tell me.

TowerOfFlowers: Sorry Rosedaisy, ur kinda benched from schemes for the duration.

TowerOfFlowers: Orders from She-on-High.

teamTrashfire: Dammit.

teamTrashfire: Fair tho.

teamTrashfire: Ill just sit here on the sidelines. Scheme-cheering.

teamTrashfire: Dont mind me.

speak_no_evil: Thank you Rose your support is appreciated

speak_no_evil: I wasn't actually looking for a new summons

speak_no_evil: I was just at the pet store, seeing if I could Commune with the ancient forces of the protean depths by reciting doggerel at a fishtank

TowerOfFlowers: As u do

speak_no_evil: The magic is sound I just need a room that architecturally simulates a nautilus and to keep three beta fish alive in the same tank overnight

TowerOfFlowers: Ur track record kinda speaks for itself there.

speak_no_evil: Hey

teamTrashfire: Yea, sis, you do sort of murder fish

speak_no_evil: If you're talking about the carp incident, I don't know what you expected I'm a poet not a fishmonger

speak_no_evil: Anyways he's too domesticated to let loose but they were having a lot of trouble finding a home for him

speak_no_evil: You see, Edgar likes shiny silver things which is fairly typical for a raven but he also really likes hair and he ESPECIALLY likes shiny, silver hair

speak_no_evil: The owners put him in the back because he kept divebombing older customers

teamTrashfire: Yesssssssss

TowerOfFlowers: Sounds a little mean tbh.

teamTrashfire: Boooooooo. Foul on the play!

teamTrashfire: Unnecessary kindness!

speak_no_evil: Vaughn, it's fine, Edgar pecks at their hair for a bit then he gets bored and leaves I've tested this

TowerOfFlowers: No I mean

TowerOfFlowers: Lorcan's super sensitive abt the hair thing.

speak_no_evil: We've been over this Lorcan can learn to love the silver fox look or he can remember that hair dye exists

TowerOfFlowers: Tru.

speak_no_evil: I'm going to set Edgar up at T&C that way he can watch for Lorcan and also pretend he's a wild crow while Mom sneaks him scraps so he doesn't starve

teamTrashfire: So um I know Im benched but

teamTrashfire: What if Lorcan just decides to be a sad introvert and hole up in his lair instead of visiting T&C for like, the next month?

teamTrashfire: Yanno, like he always does.

TowerOfFlowers: ...

speak_no_evil: ...

speak_no_evil: Fuck

-

(2 days ago)

teamTrashfire: *kicks open door* If I exhume the bones of the person who invented calculus, would Lorcan be able to wrest their soul from the depths of hell so I can make a candle out of their own bone marrow and set their soul on fire??

TowerOfFlowers: Wait would that be Newton or Leibniz?

teamTrashfire: *sighs*

teamTrashfire: *leaves room*

teamTrashfire: *kicks open door again* If I exhume the bones of Sir Isaac Newton and Gottfried Leibniz, would Lorcan be able to fuse those bones into a single misshapen abomination damned in the eyes of god and nature that I could say indisputably invented calculus, and then set their soul on fire??

TowerOfFlowers: U sound stressed

teamTrashfire: I am stressed. Vaughn you do magic flowers are any of those magic flowers drugs and can I have some.

TowerOfFlowers: Holy shit u ARE stressed

teamTrashfire: I took a practice exam and bombed it and now it feels like my idiot brain is leaking out my ears. Drugs plz.

TowerOfFlowers: Ok wow my baby sister just asked me for drugs. Gotta process that.

teamTrashfire: I'm in college, ass. And just like some weed or sth. I figure magic cannabis'll help me forget how fucking stupid I am.

TowerOfFlowers: Rose I run a flower shop not a dispensary. Closest I have are mushrooms from a faerie ring harvested by the light of the waxing gibbous, but that's a little stronger than I think you want. And ur not stupid sis school is just hard sometimes <3.

speak_no_evil: Okay I think I have a solution for the Lorcan problem

speak_no_evil: Oh wow

speak_no_evil: Rose I'm messaging Mom go downstairs now and have her make you a chamomile tea

teamTrashfire: Aislin I am srsly considering doing drugs I do not need a cup of fucking tea.

speak_no_evil: Rose I love you but you're being dense I meant a cup of magic tea, you know, by our magic mom who does magic

teamTrashfire: Ohhhhhhhhhhh

teamTrashfire: Yeah that sounds like a plan brb

speak_no_evil: Okay Mom says she's downstairs so the Lorcan thing

speak_no_evil: I've been experimenting with some of Poe's work and I think I've figured out how to turn the bell at T&C into a rudimentary portent

speak_no_evil: Should be a pretty solid warning for weddings, funerals, Christmas carolers

TowerOfFlowers: I didn't kno carolers were that big a threat.

speak_no_evil: Not as such, but it's in the poem and you know I hate taking excerpts unless I'm feeling experimental

speak_no_evil: Anyways, the important thing is it starts omening whenever danger impends

speak_no_evil: And we both know Lorcan's never not getting into trouble it'll sense him a mile away

speak_no_evil: I've already started training Edgar to appear when it goes off

TowerOfFlowers: Nice job go team.

teamTrashfire: Well, that was a pleasant cup of tea. I'm glad to see everything's sorted itself out nicely. I think I might take a nap to celebrate good night.

TowerOfFlowers: Wow that's always a little jarring.

-
(Earlier today)

TowerOfFlowers: Hey is necromancy an icebreaker asking for a friend.

TowerOfFlowers: Or should I say...

TowerOfFlowers: Asking for Lorcan's new friend.

teamTrashfire: WHAAAAAAAAT

speak_no_evil: How'd you swing that

TowerOfFlowers: Guy at T&C had a ghost problem. I might have told him about a surly graying necromancer who lives nearby.

speak_no_evil: Hmm

teamTrashfire: So is this a new friend

teamTrashfire: Or...*eyebrow waggles* a new friend?

TowerOfFlowers: Tbh I get the sense this kid has even less experience with romance than Lorcan, and I am not on board with that slow burn, kthx.

teamTrashfire: Okay. Still, friendship! Neat!

TowerOfFlowers: Friendship. We'll get our bro out of his bubble if it kills him.

speak_no_evil: So I hate to be the responsible one here

teamTrashfire: Hissssssss

speak_no_evil: But is it a good idea to send someone who needs an exorcism to Lorcan

speak_no_evil: I can't remember the last time he made a ghost less dangerous

teamTrashfire: Ooh yeah, what if his spirit thing power makes it worse?

TowerOfFlowers: It's Lorcan. He's been messing with ghost stuff forever he knows what he's doing.

TowerOfFlowers: Besides, it's not like anyone's going to hand a ghost to a necromancer without *checking* he knows what he's doing.

TowerOfFlowers: It'll be fine.

speak_no_evil: Okay, but if there's something weird in this neighborhood I know who I'm gonna call

TowerOfFlowers: Uh

-

(Present time)

speak_no_evil: So hey my bell's been omening for the past hour

speak_no_evil: We're up to jangles now I wasn't expecting more than a twang

speak_no_evil: Do we maybe want to revisit the possibility that setting Lorcan on a ghost was a bad call

TowerOfFlowers: Uh

teamTrashfire: Welp I had nothing to do with this.

teamTrashfire: Good luck bro.

 

Kittylude:

Kittylude: Art Class

Caitrìona Arianrhod Cartwright (the first and only, take that Greg) was focusing. Intently. She was nearly done. Just a few more splashes of her current color choice, and the fruit bowl painting would be done. As was normal, the teacher was behind her, sighing.

“Kitty, what did you draw?”

“The fruit bowl,” Kitty answered, turning around now that her painting was finished. Last thing was to add her signature. But that had to wait until Greg picked her up. Because she wasn't supposed to use magic unsupervised yet. And her stickyhand, which she used to make her signature, was what she used to make magic.

“Why does the orange have wings? And what is that?” the teacher asked, pointing to the grapes.

“The orange doesn't have wings, the apple does. The apple is going back to the tree. And those are grapes.”

“Why is the apple orange? And where is the orange? And what color are the...grapes? Why are the grapes...are they constructing a catapult?”


“The grapes couldn't decide if they wanted to be purple or green, so they are both. And they aren't constructing it, they grew in the shape of a catapult. And the orange is neon blue, because blue is a better color for an orange than orange,” Kitty answered, used to her teacher not understanding her vision. Even her family had problems with her visions.

“And the dragon?”

“Dragonfruit,”

“Dragonfruit doesn't look like a dragon,”

“Well, that seems like a mistake. Someone should tell the dragonfruit that they should be a dragon,” Kitty said. She mentally added that to her next adventure with Greg.

Speaking of Greg, he had been awfully quiet this morning. Well, after their Mom calmed him down about the backpack thing. For the past several days, he would constantly be complaining or plotting against her doll. Maybe he ended up really tired from last night's hardware store romp.

They had handily beat Melody, with the paint cans' singing interrupting her air guitar, and Greg tripping and falling over the strange cat and breaking Melody's nail polish remover bottle. It was a good team effort, even if they had only gone there in the first place because Greg needed a new door again.

Greg's mistakes seemed to end in fiery explosions a lot. Kitty was impressed, even if Greg had accidentally burned her favorite doll two weeks ago. Kitty's mistakes were less fiery. Just things that didn't work. Kitty thought Greg might have been an Ellie Mental, but Mom said that Ellie Mental's didn't exist.

Yet. Kitty would fix that someday.

For now, she had some time to waste before Greg was supposed to pick her up. And she needed to come up with a better idea for her next magical creation. Piranha cats with bird wings? Maybe another homework monster.

Greg never seemed to appreciate those.

For that matter, neither did her parents.

 

While our original programming is on hold, we humbly present:

~A Dark Arts and Crafts Halloween Spooktacular~

The scene opens half a year after the first fateful encounter, on a certain spooky night...



Fear was in the air. Shrieks and shrill screams of terror, frightened footsteps, and underneath it all a low just-present cackling that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. A thump, and someone let loose a bloodcurling cry.

Farina Baker took a sip of her cider and smiled. Yes, the annual Tea and Charmalade Halloween party was going swimmingly.

The restaurant had been transformed, tables pushed to the side to make room for an open floor hidden by a light layer of fog. The only source of light were soft flickering candles, courtesy of Farina's youngest daughter Rosedaisy. Vaughn supplied the thorny brambles that adorned the walls, and Aislin had her familiar lay the echo effect throughout the entire restaurant. Homemade candies were up for grabs across the counter, and a barrel of spiced apples bobbed in a barrel of water (Farina was a little old school at times. Sue her). Parents and children alike were charmed and frightened by the decor, and if that wasn't enough, Farina had a few special tricks to help the mood. Nothing was more fun on Halloween than a little harmless fright.

And nothing was more harmlessly frightening on Halloween than a little bit of magic, plausibly deniable but just spooky enough to make you wonder. Farina was sure some of the younger children had an inkling what really was going on tonight at Tea and Charmalade but if their parents put it up to an overactive imagination, what was the harm? The restaurant had wards most of the year that kept the mundane patrons from noticing everything that went on inside its walls, but Halloween was always a night of crossing boundaries. Tonight, let the mundanes notice what they will.

Farina spotted two familiar faces in the crowd having fun. Well, she amended. Kitty was having fun, at least. Farina supposed it was too much to ask for Greg Cartwright to enjoy a night of chaos and merriment.

 

Greg was annoyed. He thought he had a perfectly good choice for matching costumes. Ghostbusters. He'd be Kevin, since he was good looking, and Kitty would have been Holtzmann. But no, Kitty wanted to be Anna from Frozen, and demand that he was Elsa. Greg had refused, but Kitty cheated and hit him with her stickyhand, toggling the stupid Elsa sticker he hadn't managed to get rid of.

So here they were, at the annual Tea and Charmalade Halloween party. Kitty dressed as Anna, and Greg dressed in a magical perfectly Elsa costume, courtesy of that sticker incident. As long as he didn't really speak for long periods of time, he wouldn't be stuck singing. Maybe Ms. Farina would have something to help with that...

Greg watched as Kitty ran off to the spiced apple barrel. After Kitty had done everything here, they were going to go out trick or treating. Which Greg was not really looking forward to. Kitty would drag him to every house possible to get the most candy. Which was fine. Because he was getting 1/3 and 1/6 of the candy. He had managed to convince his mother to not tell Kitty that was the equivalent of 1/2 by pointing out Kitty had forced him to dress as Elsa against his will. She had agreed.

And then got a picture.

Regardless, if he was going to be miserable, he was going to be miserable with company. Someone who would be able to commiserate about crazy siblings. Or crazy familiars.

Plan formed, Greg headed to Ms. Farina.

"Hi Ms. Farina, would you like to build a snowman?" Greg put a hand over his mouth as soon as the song started. Instead, he found a piece of paper and pencil and wrote his request for a drink that would stop the singing. And also asking if Lorcan and Vulk would mind joining him and Kitty when they went Trick-or-Treating.

 

Farina raised her eyebrows. Now, there was a thought.

"Oh, sure thing, Greg. I have some green tea in the back, it shouldn't take long to whip something up. Though, really, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I've heard far worse on karaoke night--" Her voice dropped. "--and some of those were actually song mages. I mean, really."

"As for your second request," she continued, a sly smile curling across her mouth. "Vulk doesn't go out on Halloween, but Lorcan was already going trick-or-treating this year. He loves Halloween, you know, even if he is a bit sour about it. I'm sure he would be just thrilled to have you and your sister join him. I'll give him a call while I fix you your tea."

 

Greg sighed, of course it wouldn't be instantaneously. He opened his mouth to try and say thanks. His mouth disagreed.
"It's agony to wait."
Kitty, who had apparently managed to get an apple already, popped up at Greg's shoulder. "It's agony to wait!"
"Tell the guards to open up the gates," Greg's mouth continued before he managed to stop it, and glare at Kitty.

She smiled, and sang (off key) "the gates" before leaving.

One of the parents came over to Greg, complimenting him on his dedication to matching his sister, and getting into the roll. Greg just smiled, fighting hard to try and prevent himself from singing.

It was going to be a long few minutes.

 

Elsewhere:

“Phone call, Lorcan!”

Lorcan paused in the middle of getting dressed. The sleeve dangled halfway off his arm. “Is this going to be one of those calls where the phone rings, but nooobody’s there?” He wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect while Vulk stifled a laugh. Lorcan loved the things, he really did, but something about Halloween seemed to turn every last one of them into an unrepentant trickster. At least it wasn’t April Fool’s. He shuddered at the thought.

Op flipped their receiver off the cradle. “No, really, Lorcan. It’s Gran.”

Crap.

“All right, give it to me.” Lorcan took the receiver warily. “Hey, Mom. I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Never too busy for your mother.” It wasn’t a question. It never was with her.

He sighed. “Yes, ma’am. What’s up?”

“Well, I was just talking with Greg Cartwright--” Oh no. That was not a good sign. “And he’s going to be taking his little sister trick-or-treating tonight. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And since you’ll be taking Trick anyways--”

“Oh no,” Lorcan said. “Mom, you are not making me socialize on Halloween. I have things to do.”

“Exactly my point. You’ll be out of the apartment anyways, and everyone knows trick-or-treating is better in a group. You know Greg’s little sister is about Trick’s age.”

“Trick is anywhere between a hundred years old and two, Mom. Anyways, he’s a brat with other kids.”

Trick, who had wandered in from getting ‘dressed’, blew a raspberry at him. Only proving Lorcan’s point, really.

“You know what I meant, Lorcan. And maybe he’d learn to be less disruptive if he had some friends he could be honest with. How is he supposed to connect with mundane children if he can’t even tell them what’s under the costume? Really, I should have thought of introducing him to Kitty sooner.”

“I don’t know how smart that is.” After all, the kid might still hold a grudge over what happened to her doll. Lorcan still maintained the incident was more Greg’s fault than his, but she might prefer to blame a stranger over family.

“Lorcan, sooner or later you are going to have to be a parent and talk to people.” His mother’s voice was full of amusement.

“I talk to people!” Lorcan shot back. “Especially on Halloween, Mom, you don’t know how many people I talk to tonight, and the Halloween parents are worse than the necromancers.”

“Hm. If only you had someone you could talk to instead of those parents. Someone you can already tolerate. Someone who, some might say, is actually your friend…”

“Okay, fine!” It was pointless trying to say no. She was going to convince him anyways. She always did. And she wasn’t wrong that maybe this could be good for Trick. The poor kid really didn't get enough attention as it was. “I’m guessing they’re at Tea and Charmalade.”

“Of course! You know, I was hoping you’d stop by anyways. The place is beautifully spooky tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if we won the neighborhood prize for best haunted house this year.”

“In her dreams.”

“What was that?” Lorcan and his mom asked at the same time. It was rare that Op interjected themself into a call.

“Nothing,” Op said, tinny voice sounding a little sheepish.

"Nothing!" Vulk added from across the room. What was that?

“...Right. Okay, Mom. Trick and I will be there soon.” Lorcan replaced Op’s receiver back on the handle.

“I’m sorry, me and you are gonna what now?” Trick asked. Of course Trick tuned in for that part.

“We’re having company tonight, kid,” Lorcan told him.

“What? No! No, I don’t wanna! They’re going to take my candy. That’s my loot!” He ‘stamped’ the floor, which granted was pretty hard when you didn’t have feet.

Lorcan sighed. “I don’t wanna either, Trick. We don’t have much choice, though. Grandma’s orders.”

It took a little more grumbling, but finally Lorcan got Trick to agree to the change of plans. Though he “wouldn’t be happy about it”. Joke was on him. Lorcan’s mom had raised four kids; she was immune to passive-aggressive sulks.

“Maybe I should change.” Lorcan glanced down at his outfit. Greg was going to mock him for it, he just knew.

“Oh, no!” Doug the coatrack told him. He--and the other things--had been strangely shifty since the phone call, but here he was acting entirely in character. “I spent hours coordinating that outfit. You look fine. Now go, you’re late.”

Lorcan frowned. “Late for what?”

“Uh--”

“Late for the candy!!” Vulk shouted. Lorcan turned to the lava lamp, who was "wearing" a pair of tiny, fake bat wings and had a glow-in-the-dark set of fanged dentures on top of his cap. "I am a vampire" he had declared when questioned.

“It's six-o-clock on a Halloween night," Vulk continued, "and it’s a dog-eat-candy world out there! If you don’t book it, all the good candy will be gone by the time you get anywhere.”

That got Trick going. Some day Lorcan would figure out why the things cared so much about food when they didn't eat--Trick grabbed on to Lorcan’s hand while he was distracted. “Yeah, come on, Dad, let’s go!”

“Alright, alright.” Lorcan could already tell this was going to be a rough Halloween.