Fantasy Guns, Gangsters, and Grimoires- A Roaring Twenties Witch Coven

[Shagranoz]

It was a cold, late January day, and Marie couldn't help shaking her head at the winter wind whipping its way through the streets. Imbolc was less than a week away, and the weather screamed that a blizzard was coming. Spring's on its way. Sure. At this rate, it'll probably start in June.

The old witch flicked her wand, and a small fire started in a stone fireplace. She loved magic- it had made her friends, enhanced her life, and a little bit of spellcraft had enabled her to make her house into something bordering on a mansion without increasing its external size. The rest of the coven was just waking up, so she settled into a chair to read the newspaper.

 

[Cinderlily]

Thea hummed quietly as she milled about her apartment, getting ready for the night's performance. Outside her window a harsh wind shook leaves from trees, they plummeted to the ground all the while being tugged back and forth. Clouds were starting to gather in the sky and she wondered vaguely if it would rain. Not that a bit of bad weather would affect the turn out tonight. Her magic shows were acclaimed throughout the city. Even if a hurricane were to roll in people would still be clambering at a chance to witness "The illustrious Thea Strange" work her magic live on stage. She laughed to herself as she held up to different dresses and considered. Black fringe or mindnight blue cocktail dress? She cocked her head in concentration letting go of the hangers and using a spell to keep them levitating mid air. She took three steps back to get a a look from a different angle. No one knew what she did was actual magic. That was the brilliant thing about it. It was like she was hiding in plain sight. Humans were so determined to believe that magic didn't exist that she could go up there, do whatever she wanted and they would still convince themselves that it was all tricks and illusions. Well they were right about that last part. Now which dress? The cocktail dress would show off more of her slim legs but she did love the gold beading on the skirt fringe of the black number. The colour would go well with a pair of heels she'd bought the previous week. Decided, Thea nodded and let the cocktail dress fall to the floor. Black dress and gold heels it was.

 

[Maxilgal]

Maureen’s heels click-clacked their way down the cold sidewalk, slightly running as best she could in those damn shoes. Under her arm was the penny newspaper she had bought from a boy on the corner, sporting the latest headlines in city and world news. The windows of the stores she passed had little frost swirls from the last night’s particularly cold wind from the bay. Her hand instinctively went to her hat as another such burst blew right through her bones, making her teeth chatter as she hopped onto the trolley she needed. Warmed by the squashed bodies of men and women on the car, she found time to open her paper. Man Seized on Charge He Plotted to Sell Niece for $10. $30 Coats Now Only $15. The usual faff the Daily Eagle provided to Brooklyn. One thing did catch her eye though, almost making her miss her stop. Creatures in the Dark Alleys of the New York Streets? It detailed the supposed spotting of a werewolf in Queens, and Maureen was staring so intently she almost missed the curb would have fallen into the wet, dirty slush puddle in the street if a kind man hadn’t caught her before her fall.

“Thank you so much, sir!”

“No problem, miss.” She hurried off, still a little flustered and now slightly reddened from almost falling, and entered the tea shoppe, currently still under construction.

“Jack! Jeremy! Is Hannah in yet? You should see what The Eagle put in the paper!” She tossed it on the slightly sawdust covered counter as both lanky boys came down from hammering shelves to inspect what their kid sister had produced.

“Werewolf,” Jeremy whispered in more of a statement than a question. “You shouldn’t worry about this. Just some screwy journalist trying to scare regular people. No one is gonna believe this fella spitting lines for attention.”

“I guess you’re right...but I don’t like it.”

“Aww, come on Maureen. Don’t get so glum. Think about it. Tonight we gonna get dolled up and go out on the town.” Jack placed the nail he was holding between his teeth on the table and took her by the hands and swung her around, singing in an exaggerated way. “Oh, honey, the moon is shining in the night sky!” Maureen giggled and pushed him away.

“Get back to work, before Hannah flays your hides.” Maureen pulled out some boxes and began moving them into the back room. She could still hear Jack singing and Jeremy threatening to hammer his skull. Gotta love family.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

By sunrise (even if the clouds kept the sun from being seen), Connor could appreciate why his mother wanted him to just make the whiskey and not help with distributing it. It had been a regular night, until the police showed up.
He sat on the hood of his Chrysler, which had significantly more bullet holes in it than it had yesterday evening, and smoked. He had a car full of undelivered bootlegged whiskey, and he needed a place to lay low with it until he could try again.
"Now what?" Davey asked mournfully, sitting next to him. They were parked on a side street, and it probably wasn't the smartest place to be, but they were both tired.
Not home. His ma'd give him hell. And not the coven, because Marie'd give him the same. Anyway, everyone at both places would be up and about and all he wanted was to sleep.
"You remember Helen?" Connor asked Davey.
"The dame in the suit? Who stole my date?"
"That's the one. I'll take everything to her place and lay low for a bit. You head home and get in touch with an Gráinne and see about rescheduling."
Davey looked at him. "You're going to kiss her, aren't you."
"If she and God are willing," Connor said. Davey sighed heavily and slid off the hood.
"I hope she doesn't eat you alive," Davey told him, and then headed off down the street.
Connor watched him go and then got back into his car, searching under his seat until he found the bottle of wine he'd stashed there. He and his father had tried their hand at wine making, and while they'd never replace whiskey with wine, it was a better gift for Helen. This one was from a batch of blackberry wine, and Connor had put liquid satisfaction in it, and a particularly good memory of a sunset cooled summer day, and blackberry juice on a girl's kiss, and fingers in her soft hair, and he thought Helen would like it.
She lived in a big old mansion, and Connor parked behind her impressively large garage, before going up the back door too the kitchen and knocking, wine bottle in hand. Helen was probably asleep, and he was probably just going to let himself in and fall asleep in one of the extra rooms somewhere, but it was polite to knock first. "Helen?"

TrashRabbit

 

[TrashRabbit]

Helen had spent most of the night in the garage- at one point it had been a carriage house and the four stables now served as storage for jars and jars of things that moved wrong and darkly inside of them if your caught them in the wrong angle- and another for parts and another for a low table with a hookah in the middle. The fourth was empty- just in case.

She sat, on her dolly, eating a fluffnutter sandwich with enough grease on her face to concern anyone who thought she was some sort of well put together socialite who always looked sharp. The Renault automobile was sassing her something awful- she only wanted to magic the motor to take shadows instead of gasoline- it would save her some money she could spend on wine- but nooooo. Shadows were temperamental creatures and power sources- not as reliable as ghosts and spirits.

She heard the car approaching the house and she knew the sound of the engine as surely as she knew its owner. The radio in the corner of the garage turned down by itself, a small voice inside it- A spirit she'd picked up some where in France informed her what she already knew; “Visitors at the back gate, miss.”

"Whats he done now?" She asked with some excitement. But the spirit didn't know or didn't feel compelled enough to answer. She didn't press.

Connor was always good fun. He was warm like whiskey and going along with his plans usually meant something caught fire, some one would let off a pistol shot. A nice break from the coven usual amounts of ghosts and levitation.

She picked her way out of the garage and slipped out into the dawn and into her mother's over grown Venetian style garden, filled with sun catchers, whirligigs and night blooms. it was always on her list of things to spruce but it just never seemed to happen. Green things were not her forte. Sometimes she wished the carriage house was closer to the house proper- but tonight it gave her the best opportunity for playing at being a spook. She willed her mind small, and kept to the garden shadows, using the trick her mother had always insisted was the most useful and waited until she was just right behind him.

She let go of her visualized smallness and-

“I've been summoned and I demand flowers and wine,” she intoned, standing a bit to close and asking a little more loudly than the dawn or his shot up car would implore. Despite her tallness she was rather unimpressive and rumpled from a night of grease monkeying- but that didn't matter. Not to her. She only hoped to have seemed to appear as suddenly and quietly as she intended to.

 

[theunderwolf]

The hotel's lobby was quiet which was the way Esfir liked it. Too much hustle and bustle ruined a place, she loathed it in Moscow and she loathed it in New York. Why couldn't more places be like graveyards? She mused, No one to speak to yet if you worked hard enough you could dredge someone up. Still though, the hotel would serve . She had yet to find an acceptable permanent dwelling within the city and had plenty enough money to rent a room indefinitely. Still though she hoped to find a place where maids didn't interrupt her at the most awkward moments of animation spells. She sipped her coffee again. She had no need for drink of course, and it did not serve to wake her by any means but being sleepless made that use redundant. She just enjoyed the bitter taste, black as good grave soil. With coffee like this more places would be like graveyards! It was a cheery thought. One that nearly warmed her cold black heart. She did suddenly find herself expecting company though, as she se the young Dexter entered the hotel. Doubtless searching for hweqsshe couldn't fathom any other reason for the young man to come to such a stupidly opulent place.
J Johannes

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Connor jumped and whirled, a hand going instinctively to his gun before he recognized the voice.
"Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph, you scared the shit out of me," he told Helen. He held up the wine bottle. "I'm missing the flowers, but I did get you the wine." She looked like she'd been up all night and was covered in engine grease, which Connor thought was a good look. Connor knew he wasn't much, as far as witches went, but sometimes he forgot how much a witch Helen was. She'd been doing magic all night--he could smell it on her, somewhere under the grease and oil and steel and shadow. Or maybe that was just what magic smelled like on Helen.

TrashRabbit

 

[TrashRabbit]

She laughed, kissed both his cheeks Italian style and took the bottle of wine with a flourish.

“I'll forgive you the flowers just this once.”

she shooed him inside before he could answer. The back door lead straight into the servants kitchen which was cluttered and well used. She grabbed to wine glasses- she popped the cork with her teeth like and animal and poured herself a glass. She removed a couple of cats from counter tops and then passing him his own glass added;

“What have you down now that brings you here and not crying home to Marie or your Ma? Did you blow anything up without me- you know I like to read shrapnel better than tea.”

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Connor gestured to himself as if insulted. "I've done nothing wrong. It isn't my fault that the police are opposed to a man running a business and trying to make a living. And it certainly isn't my fault they're willing to shoot at a man about it." He accepted the glass and sat on one of the counter tops, dropping his hat next to him.

The memory in the wine was just as good as he remembered.

"Anyway, seemed like the sort of thing to sent Ma and Marie into fits. I thought you'd think it much funnier."

TrashRabbit

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Poor wee Connor, you've never done anything wrong in your life," Helen agreed, and toasted her glass, "May the copper never find you." Then she took a long sip, and savored it for a moment and then looking sternly at the glass asked, "Who the nine hells is this girl and when can I meet her?" She then pointed at the glass when he didn't answer fast enough. It wasn't good wine, it was amazing wine; and she was not going to share it with anyone.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Sláinte," Connor said, raising his own in toast. He grinned at Helen. "She grew up and left me for the butcher's boy. Most disappointing. I can introduce you, if you'd like to try your hand a homewrecking. She's got three wee ones, these days. Puts a damper on things." He thought he could make a decent batch of whiskey with this memory, sitting in Helen's kitchen with the sense of peace and safety growing around them.

 

[Johannes]

Dexter Atterberry

Mood: Curious
Location: Hotel Lobby
Tags: theunderwolf

Dexter was eager to enter the shelter of the hotel lobby; the chilly winds outside seeped into his scrawnier frame resulting in goosebumps. Rubbing off the cold inside the comfier lobby, Dexter saw the witch he was looking for. A lady who seemed to carry herself with poise and confidence sat off to the side, sipping from her drink. "Hello Esfir." Dexter greeted as he walked over, the chill still leaving his bones. Esfir is a well-mannered woman to many, but those in the coven could tell she had power. What particularly piqued Dexter's interest is that she always seemed youthful and never aged. Dexter was always interested in learning magic that could help people. An by "help people," he means money in exchange for services. "How's things been?" Dexter asked. "May I have a seat?" Esfir is charming, but closed off when it comes to the information that Dexter wanted. If he couldn't find out what magic Esfir uses, he at the very least wanted to be on friendly terms with such an interesting witch.

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Boo hissss," She said with disappointment but continued to sip. The cats seemed to love Connor and three or four hopped up on to the counter to butt their heads against him and demand attention.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"An unfortunate end to dating Catholic girls, I've found," Connor said in sad agreement, trying to pet as many cats as possible with the hand not holding the wine glass. "What were you working on in the garage?" Whether or not magic was involved, whatever Helen did with her cars was always interesting.

 

[CelticSol]

Shagranoz

Vera likes Marie.

There's a sort of calmness and ease that Vera feels when the woman's around, and she likes how the world seems to slow down, halting to match her pace. And she's kind to Vera. She's tolerant of Vera's antics, understanding of Vera's lack of understanding in anything to do with magic, patient when Vera asks a million and one questions about spellcasting, magic, and what it means to be a witch. When Marie gauged her tense expression when she asked Vera about where she was living, she opened up her doors wide for Vera, gave her a room and a promise of food. Always kind, always calm, always ready to accommodate her newest coven member.

She doesn't mind when Vera wakes at six to practice her ballet. Not even when she has to push all the furniture in one of the wood-floored rooms all around to make space, not even when Vera plays music to accompany her practice. Only ensured the room was suitable - which it was. Then she left Vera to her own devices.

Like her own mother. But kinder. Not as sharp. She can't even picture her mother's sneer on Marie's sweet face.

Vera had been practicing a handful of hours when she hears Marie's footsteps, feels the almost imperceptible shiver of her magic in the air. She stops in her fouetté, her breath steady despite exertion - her mother taught that a ballerina must never show fatigue, not even the slightest sign of shortness of breath, even during the most demanding sets. She comes down from en pointe, crossing the room to halt the orchestral music she'd used to accompany her dance. She removes her en pointe shoes in favour for her more comfortable, more flexible leather flats, but remains in her leotard and tights as she seeks out Marie.

She finds Marie in front of the fire place, newspaper spread across her lap. With all the grace of a dancer, who also had grace all but beat into her by an overzealous mother that insistened the key to it all was to never fail to be graceful, Vera falls into an armchair near Marie, removing the hair ties holding her short hair into it's bun, "What's the news today, Marie? Anything exciting?"

 

[Maxilgal]

“Maureen!” Hannah bustled into the store, her tall, curvy figure moving forward with fierce confidence in its movements. “Come on! You’re gonna be late and I don’t even want to think of what Marie would say if my own sister was late to her introduction!”

Maureen eyes went as wide as saucers at the naming of her introduction. She had finally turned 17 and that meant she had access to the Black Rose Coven for membership. Hannah had already been a Black Rose for almost 2 years, since the beginning. And though Hannah might not like to admit it, she was one of the best potion brewers in the entire coven. Or so Maureen thought.

“I’m so sorry Hannah!” The elder sister waved frantically as Maureen began her awkward heel run again. The two brothers gave them a silly wave goodbye and the Hughes girls were on their way.

It took a good 45 minutes to get to Marie’s house, and meanwhile Maureen had told Hannah about the werewolf sighting. Like their brothers, she claimed it was hogwash. But that didn’t stop worry flashing across her face for a fraction of a moment. But the face was soon replaced by one of scrutiny. She pruned and prodded and preened Maureen, trying to make her as respectable looking as possible. In the end, she claimed it a fruitless endeavor, and they continued to the coven. Hannah rung the bell twice and entered, followed by a excited and wide-eyed Maureen. The house seemed to grow on the inside, stairs winding up flights of stairs. There wasn’t much time for inspection because Hannah hauled Maureen into a sort of sitting room.

“Marie...may I introduce my younger sister, Maureen. She wishes to become a Coven member.” Maureen was shuffled forward, and she clutched her purse to her abdomen, trying not to look the older woman in the eyes.

Shagranoz

 

[Shagranoz]

"Nyet." Ever since Vera had come into her life, Marie had asked her for help learning Russian, since it seemed that so many had come over with the fall of the czars. "Alcohol busts, crooked politicians, and robber barons fleecing the country blind. Sometimes, I think your countrymen had the right idea."

The older woman sighed. The city was going to hell in a handbasket, and not just the normals, either. The vampires and werewolves were going at each other again, and though fighting hadn't begun yet, both sides had reached out to her, asking for support if it did. Privately, Marie hoped for peace and a regulated system that would enable both sides to feed themselves without harming anyone, but that would require revealing the supernatural to humans, and everybody agreed that was a bad idea.

Marie was startled by a knock at her door. Opening it, she was surprised to see Hannah, and someone else as well. "Greetings, Hannah, and a pleasure to meet you, Maureen. Come in, take a seat."

The older woman looked at Maureen with calmness in her eyes. "We don't have elaborate initiations in the Black Roses, but we do have a few rules. Failure to abide will result in the binding of your powers, possibly permanently, depending on the severity of your transgression. We swear to never harm another thinking being, save in defense, nor to betray the secrets of the coven, nor to reveal ourselves to the outside world. If you can agree to follow these rules, you may consider yourself a Black Rose. If not, the door's over there. I suggest you avail yourself of it."

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Oh the usual," Helen said motioning unhelpfully at the ice box and the copper pots with her glass, "Trying to melt shadows, building a mana engine, rediscovering Atlantis and Lemuria, rooting for the yankees."
She was only vague when he work wasn't going well and it was good for her moods that she didn't take her work to seriously. If she'd figured out anything new she was a chatter box and smug to boot. She never seemed to take her schemes and ideas going south to heart when it came to her projects- water off a ducks back it seemed. Like it all hardly mattered at all and at the same time like t it was the only thing she really had.
She had a good reputation for her spirit radios, enchanted glass jars and witchballs witch drove away spirits. But Helen was never satisfied with sticking to what she was merely good at- it just never kept her entertained.
"I am considering buying a plane though, what do you think about that?" She said with a laugh and a waggle of eyebrows. It was a very Helen thing to say.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Do you know how to fly one of those things?" Connor asked, alarmed. Cars were one thing, planes another. Metal wasn't meant to fly, and he wanted no part of it. It was a very Helen thing to want. Particularly considering how it sounded like whatever she had been tinkering wasn't going well. He had almost finished his wine, and was otherwise feeling very sleepy and content, especially as his lap was full of several purring cats.

 

[theunderwolf]

"Dexter, yes of course, please sit," Esfir said. She adopted a warm, pleasant tone. He was a member of the coven afterall and it served her to be on good terms with all its members. No matter how long she stayed in New York it payed to have allies. Besides Dexter was adorably young and optimistic and was pleasent company. What worried her was the curiosity that he walked in just brimming with. She did not begrudge it but it was bothersome. She preferred her cards close to her chest. Her secrets needed to be kept, she really would loathe to have her particular state of being become a trend. She was an abomination, though still quite lovely if anyone asked. "So how are you and your various enterprises?" She asked Dexter sweetly, putting on the flattering socialite airs that suited her surroundings.
J Johannes

 

[Johannes]

Dexter Atterberry

Mood: Curious
Location: Hotel Lobby
Tags: theunderwolf

Smiling, Dexter took a seat across from Esfir. "Well, the Coven is doing fine. Marie is healthy and our numbers are well-off." the warlock said as he wracked his brain for anything eventful. "New York is a bustlin' place. People lose things all the time. Nothing a little location spell couldn't fix. Lots of lost stuff, lots of money for finding them." Dexter nonchalantly looked around the lobby. Empty, but rather pleasant. More so with Esfir's charming personality. "Well, where you are staying seems quite luxurious." Dexter said relaxing back into his chair. "What do you do?" Surely for somebody to stay in such accommodations, they must be earning a substantial amount of money.

 

[theunderwolf]

"Mm yes," Esfir said, taking another dainty sip, "I do quite like this coven. Others that have reached out to me were much more forceful and well... cultish lacking for a better term. it is nice to work with younger practitioners such as yourself." This was true, nothing had made her want to experiment more than being around younger witches. So much creative energy. She wished she could summon that kind of youthful exuberance like they did, but that would break the mystique wouldn't it. "Mmm yes," She said looking around the lobby as he did, "Yough if I've learned anything, luxery like this is rather... bland. opulence is the same everywhere after all, too much gilding and effort and hardly any comfortable chairs. The food and drink are excellent though. Oh! I've been rude could I order you anything?" She asked as she waved a waiter over, "As for me though I come from old money that was invested wisely. My many greats grandmother was nobility who had a lot of foresight. Additionally to get pocket change and entertainment, I do favors for some on the side. Though my clients are a bit less, lively if you catch my drift."
J Johannes

 

[TrashRabbit]

"Not yet!" She chimed, "how am I to learn something before I get my hands on it. Here Connor, learn to knit- Just think about the needles real hard, alright?"
She teased him, but honestly , it was too easy. She yawned. The wine was good and it was morning.
"Remind me to give you a plane ride. it's like the exact opposite of cement shoes-" she gave him a sly look.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"You've got friends! Maybe they have planes and taught you. How am I to know?" Connor asked crossly. Maybe he wasn't as smart as Helen, but they both knew that, and it wasn't very friendly of her to rub it in. He frowned back at her. "If God had meant for us to fly, He'd have given us wings. I'm perfectly fine right on the ground. Thank you." The thought of flying made him feel incredibly queasy, even sitting on the counter.

 

[TrashRabbit]

She giggled. The only person she knew with a plane was a vampire and they'd been out of town for years. Who knew if they'd ever be back. She wondered if she could figure out how to turn Connor into a bird- just for the prank of it- but figured it might be a bit beyond her forte. Creatures and nature always seemed to just slip from her fingers.
"Which room do you want, the sunflower one or the blue one?"
Her wine glass was empty and she abandoned it on the counter. She was holding her gifted bottle like a cherished infant; A good strong son. she patted it.