Realistic or Modern Phantom Voices | ellarose & Syntra

[Syntra]

A note to self: Clara is a fucking cuteness fanatic. Just, the face that she made upon seeing her Pikachu spawn? Thea wanted to see it again and again and again, and already, she was planning to incorporate this knowledge into her gift-buying strategy. Mwhahaha! Her gf (!!!) would stand no chance before all the fluffy critters she would get for birthdays, Christmases, and, uh, randomly, just for being Clara in general. Right. Such was the definition of the gf duty, and Thea did not mean to fail. She would totally break the world record in-- wait, what??? Was her authority as a video game master being questioned? The scandal! The audacity! …not. Who did you think she was, a thirty-year-old incel whose only accomplishment was finishing his Dark Souls broken sword run with one arm tied behind his back? Yeeeah, that kind of rage only ever came to those types! (Normal people, instead, saw opportunities. New paths to enlightenment. Such as, for example…) “Alas, I have failed,” Thea announced dramatically, placing her hand on her heart. “Now I’m fated to spend the rest of my life wallowing in the depths of ignorance. Unless, of course, I manage to find a hot teacher who would be willing to show me the ropes. Whaddya say, Clara? You happen to know someone like that?”

If Lizzie’s glares could kill, Clara would surely be dead on the floor by now. “Ugh! Enjoy your last moments with that pathetic weirdo, I guess. You won’t even have the time to think about her when you’re with me.”

“Uhhh… you do realize I won’t fucking go with you even if you do win, right?” Thea raised her eyebrow. “I hate to break it to you, Lizzie, but people aren’t fucking Pokémon. You can’t just throw that thingy at me and act like I belong to you now.” That shit might have been sorta cute when they’d been children, but the ConnotationsTM hit different now. Yeah, yeah, Lizzie might have grown up not to be a creepy fucking stalker-- hell, she probably would have, since most kids dropped the sociopathy-lite the second they upgraded their empathy. Just brain development things, she guessed. Still, was she required to coddle this type of bullshit just because she might not have been that bad had they not killed her off? Nuh uh, not how this shit worked! Being fucking dead did not grant you any get-out-of-jail-free cards. Like, did their crimes become any less heinous just because they’d had the tendency to kick the fucking bucket? No? Then fuck right off!

As usual, however? Lizzie didn’t let her delusions be impeded by something as insignificant as, you know, the actual goddamn reality. “Meh,” she waved her hand, as if to imply that Thea’s opinion wasn’t actually important. After all, she was the resident Thea expert here! “I’ll forgive you because you don’t know what you’re saying. Once you witness my Pokémon prowess, you won’t want to be with someone that boring, anyway.” Blah blah blah, yeah, sure. The girl was fucking hopeless, and Thea chose to shut up for once because she figured some good ol’ humiliation would get to her quicker than actual words would have. (And, for the record? Clara totally was cool. Fucking cool, even. Thea might not have known that she needed this exact type of gf care, but it was hitting allll the right notes. Whew! Too bad that this adventure was strictly G-rated.)

To say that Thea was watching on the edge of her seat would have been a fucking lie, and for multiple reasons. Reason number 1: The bastards hadn’t even bothered to provide a chair. Reason number 2: Lizzie had a snowball in hell’s chance of winning, judging solely by that cheap villain-tier speech at the beginning. Just, when would the bastards learn? If you insisted on gloating, you ought to do it after you’d won already! Tempting fate like that was a no-no, and everyone with at least one functioning brain hemisphere knew. So, when Lizzie was thoroughly trounced, to nobody’s fucking surprise? Thea didn’t even bother feigning shock. “Go, Clara! Go, Marill! I expected nothing else from the champions of my heart!” she yelled, striking the universal victory pose. (A cheerleader attire would have been better for that, Thea knew, but like, you couldn’t fucking have everything. In fact, she’d gotten used to them having absolutely nothing in the Nightmarish Dimensions of Fuckery, so this was a significant upgrade. Maybe, uh, later? In a different, much more private setting. Haha.)

“Be your own knight, kid,” she recommended to the wailing Lizzie. “That way, you’ll get to disappoint yourself instead of fucking relying on others for that. A much more efficient system, if you ask me.” Very uplifting, much wow. With an approach like this, Thea could have become one of those know-it-all self-help book fuckers! You know, had she had no dignity and the personality of a rotten fucking potato.

…was it weird that she thought this was kind of wholesome? Like, seeing Ian, whose entire philosophy was ‘I’m too cool for this bullshit’, get this excited over a Pokémon battle? Maybe her standards were getting too fucking low, but in Thea’s book, this did count. “If I think so? I fucking know it, dude. Prepare to taste your inglorious defeat!” The Pikachu, apparently riding on the same hype wavelength, flicked its tail.

“Pika, Pika!”

With that warcry, it stumbled its way to the arena.

“Really, Thea?” Ian raised his eyebrow. “That’s what we call a basic bitch choice.”

“It’s what we call a classic, and it’s a fucking classic for a reason.”

The boy fumbled around in his pockets, only to pull out… yeah, a Pokéball. Not much of a surprise there. What kind of critter was hiding inside, though? The true mystery, and it was going to be revealed soon. “I choose you, Vulpix!” (Oh, fucking hell. A Vulpix? Clara was probably dying of cuteness overload there, and having to focus on the battle instead was fucking killing her inside. Just!!! Why hadn’t she brought a fucking camera? Moments like these deserved to be immortalized, Thea just knew that.)

“Vulpix,” Ian shouted, raising his fist high into the air. “Show them who’s the boss around here. Use Flamethrower!”

Ooookay, wait a fucking sec. Did a cute doggo like that have a weapon permit? And, did it have dimension-sized secret pockets? Because Thea genuinely didn’t understand where that Vulpix’s flamethrower could be hidi--

Ah. Another fucking mystery solved, she guessed. The authors had just been a little creative with the attack name, ‘cause she would have called it something like ‘fire stream’. The part that Thea did not fucking enjoy, though? That he had set her Pikachu on fire! The cutie let out a pained scream, and that fucking made her see red. What kind of animal abuse bullshit was that, huh?! It had been fun to watch back when she’d been a kid, but seeing it unfold in its photorealistic glory made it obvious that this was, like, slightly more family friendly cockfighting. Fucking deplorable.

Ian, meanwhile, gave her one of his insufferable smirks. “Want to give up? It’s obvious that your Pikachu has received no training.”

“That may be true,” Thea’s eyes blazed, “but my fists did!”

“Wait, what the… that’s against the rules, Thea!”

And, if he listened hard enough, he might have heard the faint echo of her not giving a single flying fuck. Of course, he also may have deduced that from the way she lunged at him. “Viva la revolución, bitches! For the dignified working conditions of all the Pokémon!”

 

[ellarose]

Clara found herself standing on the sidelines this time as she watched Thea's battle against Ian begin. (Had she been in proximity, she might've given her a peck on the cheek for luck... she'd never been too good about showing her support with loud cheers the way that her girlfriend had done for her. But she sensed that Thea knew she was out there supporting her, regardless if she could hear her or not. She's already shown that she has a way of hearing her even when she doesn't use her voice outright.) This might be less because she's slightly incapacitated as well. Because just as Thea suspected in that moment, her face ended up buried in her hands when Ian's Vulpix made its appearance. (Another cute one! And another favorite, to be sure. It looked so soft and yet so wise, with it's fox-like features. So how couldn't it be? The sight tugged at her heartstrings... and then tugged, tugged, tugged until it dredged up the part of her that missed Spooks. She missed the sound of her claws on the wood, tapping as she ran to greet her whenever she walked in the door. The soft warmth of her fur when she curled up next to her on the sofa or slept on her feet as she worked at her desk. The way she always seemed to sense when she was feeling blue and nestled up against her. Ah... shit. She tries to push it from her mind. She stubbornly hasn't allowed herself to acknowledge that bloody collar she'd found at 'Amy's' shack, to entertain the concept that it might have been real.) The melancholic feeling didn't last long though as her attention was turned towards the battle itself. Namely when the fireball comes blasting out at the poor Pikachu and the creature cries out in pain. Red flashes before her eyes and she has to flinch away again. Needless to say, that attack was far more brutal than the bubbles. (Ah. Well, so much for her attempts to push thoughts of violence against poor, defenseless animals out of her mind... this did nothing but bring them front and center!) Ian throws out a taunt but doesn't seem to get the concept that that... wasn't the right move on his part. Thea was just as upset as she was and before Clara even knew what was happening, she was hurtling forward and tackling Ian to the ground. Uh oh. This wasn't going to bode well, was it?

Evidently not. An alarm blared out, echoing off the rock walls standing around them. A steel door embedded in the rock nearby cranked open and one of those green-haired police officers and a squad of (adorable) Growlithe came marching into the arena to pry Thea off of Ian and break up the fight. "Thea Holloway! You've been disqualified. Come with me." The police officer said. (In the flesh, the police officer was pretty cute and Clara had to wave away the smallest little hint of jealousy she felt in that moment. Because it was silly. Thea was not going to ditch her for a fictional Pokemon cop. Uh... and honestly, weirder sentences have been spawned by these ghost worlds.) "It's off to Pokejail with you! You may leave to battle in the final match... only if your partner wins the next two rounds."

Poke... Pokejail? What? Was that even a thing? "Wait!" Clara stepped forward to protest, but found she couldn't get too close with that wall of Growlithe surrounding them as the officer escorted Thea towards the steel doors. "I'll... uh... I'll avenge you, Thea!" She placed her hand on the steel door when it slid firmly shut behind them. There was no way she was going to be able to break through that and get to her. Shoot!

With that promise echoing through the arena and her cheeks burning with embarrassment for being so dramatic, Clara turned around to face Ian. So what now? She approached the wounded Pikachu with a frown. There was nothing she could do for it without any healing items. Poor thing. (...What was happening to Thea on the other side of that door? Hopefully nothing bad. Getting split up in these circumstances was never a good thing in her experience. Probably better that she handled this sooner rather than later, to kickstart the final round and bring her back. She was given a task, so she'd handle it! It'd be fine. Everything would be fine. She was... uh, fine.)

"Nerd. Maybe you should just give up now? Thea couldn't take the heat... I don't think you stand a chance with your little mouse." Ian snorted, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest as if he hadn't just been tackled to the ground. Geez. Didn't he learn anything from Lizzie's round? Clara set the wounded Pikachu down next to the Jigglypuff that stuck to her side like glue and stood. Honestly? She wasn't that worried. Because she had the obvious advantage here.

"Marill... use bubble beam." Clara deadpanned, not even humoring Ian's arrogance with an eye-roll. The blue mouse Pokemon proceeded to do just that, blasting the Vulpix with a stream of bubbles that immediately knocked it out. Because water bests fire. Obviously! Hadn't Ian already learned his lesson not to underestimate mice before? Since Thea the mouse had also outwitted him with a bite and all. (Ah. Thea had made a very cute mouse. As far as mice went, she was the cutest mouse she had ever seen. But not in a weird way or anything like that. Just in the way that your heart might get warm and fuzzy upon seeing a picture of a field mouse wearing a little flower hat.) With that taken care of, Ian had to bitterly join Lizzie in the loser's corner of the arena.

"What the fuck!?" Ian complained. "Those fucking bubbles!"

"Tell me about it." Lizzie sympathized, crossing her arms over her chest. "...Take her out, Brianna! Just looking at her face annoys me."

"Hiya, Clara!" Brianna came out into the spotlight, nimbly kicking her Pokeball around like a soccer ball since she didn't have any arms to throw it with. (Clara didn't want to consider what that experience might have been like for whatever Pokemon was locked inside of it.) "You ready to play!?"

***​

Meanwhile, Thea was led and locked into a little jail cell. As far as jail cells went in these ghost worlds, this one wasn't particularly sinister. Matching the wholesomeness of the Pokemon series (aside from the visual of Pikachu being lit on fire) it resembled what one might expect a harmless little shopping mall jail to look like. There were Pokeballs slapped all over the walls and an upbeat little chiptune song played played in the office outside. The match in the arena was playing on an old tv on the office desk just outside.

"Looks like your partner's doing a good job out there. You'll be out of here in no time." The police officer was kind at least-- if a little stern. "You can't use your fists in the arena is all. I'm sure you understand."

It might've been hard to listen to the officer's lecture on peaceful battle etiquette, though, when younger versions of Clara and Thea appeared in the cell alongside Thea. They were huddled together in the corner, hunched over a purple gameboy color that Thea held in her hands.

"...You should use a water Pokemon for this one. Fire's weak to water." Little Beatrice quipped over her shoulder. Giving strategy lessons even back then! After a moment, though, she shuddered as if remembering something frightening. She zoned out for a second, clearly distracted. Then she peered around the cell as if observing their surroundings for danger. "I wish that's how it worked in real life. We could use a grass Pokemon to fight back whenever they..." Ah. Whenever they drowned them, right? She brushed it off. "Those guys have to have a weakness of some kind. I wonder what it is... knives, maybe? But I don't think I could stab anyone... what do you think, Thea?"

 

[Syntra]

Disqualified? Fucking disqualified? Her, Thea Awesome Holloway? Shit, freedom fighters really had it hard-- the oppressive government structures had its claws stuck in every fucking pie, including franchises for children. And to think those bastards were portrayed as good guys in the show! Yet another piece of propaganda she’d swallowed. “Aren’t you fucking ashamed of yourself? You should be disqualified, but like, from being human! Set yourself on fucking fire if it’s such so much fun to you, but don’t commit crimes against cuteness like that.” Of course, as in real life, complaints did very little to deter a cop with a chip on her shoulder. “I will return!” Thea shouted, mostly because she had always wanted to use a dramatic-ass line like that. “I will return, and justice will walk in my footsteps!” …yeah, yeah, maybe she wasn’t taking this as seriously as the situation warranted. This was still one of the psychedelic memory worlds-- one of the worlds in which she’d lost her arm, been turned into a fucking mouse, and experienced assorted grade A bullshittery. Fear would have been a reasonable thing to feel. Except, you know what? You couldn’t fucking stay anxious over the same damn thing forever! Thea had already taken that fear, crumpled it into a little, pathetic ball, and then kicked its proverbial ass. From its position on the floor, it couldn’t fucking crawl into her head! (…that, and she’d also been alone for a while. Alone, as in vacation time from her demonic bully. Since tasting his own medicine, the fucker had been suspiciously quiet, and Thea sure as fuck hoped it meant he was licking his wounds and not, like, devising an epic counter-attack plan. More than likely, it was the latter, but so fucking what? They were gonna deal with that when it came up, and not a second before. In the meantime, Thea fully intended to enjoy the extended Sanity demo that had been so graciously provided to her!)

…well, as much as ending up in a Pokémon jail could be a symptom of sanity. Oh well. At least she probably wouldn’t rot in there? Since Clara was apparently, like, a mega mastermind when it came to strategy. (Not that it shocked her, of course. Clara’s brain was positively galaxy-sized, and only the dumbest of motherfuckers could think that they stood a chance against her. Shit, she’d probably beat Einstein in chess! And not just because Einstein had been, like, dead for several years now.) “Can I earn a degree in here?” she asked, solely to fuck with the cop. “You know, we live in a civilized fucking country, and I’d like to think that prisoners have rights. Rights other than just rolling over and dying. If I am to spend my life in here, I would like to pursue my fucking dreams and become a respectable…” Thea trailed off, mostly because her thoughts scattered like a swarm of butterflies. How else was she supposed to react, seeing tiny Clara in there? Bea, she reminded herself. Still calls herself Bea now. “Didn’t fucking know that children could be arrested here,” Thea turned around, looking with great interest at her gf’s (!!!) younger self. (Her heart clenched in her chest, as if an iron fist gripped it. It was one thing to see themselves in the memories, but here, without any wider context… shit, she looked so fucking tiny. They both had been, back when the cultists had chosen them for their epic ‘Who Wants to Be Fucked Over’ contest.) “I’d stab them in a heartbeat,” Thea said, not at all bothered by silly shit like ‘thou shall not kill.’ Like??? Maybe don’t kidnap defenseless kids first? Then you got to enjoy the privileges their civilized fucking society offered, such as the right to not be murdered on sight.

“But, yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that. At least not in the way I would approach it. What I mean is, when you’re getting ready to stab fuckers that much stronger than you, you should be more stealthy about it. Dunno, make them turn around somehow, and then, bam! Stab them right in the back. Let’s see how they fucking like it. Afterwards, I recommend hiding the body. I didn’t do it one time because I was in a hurry, and it turned into a whole-ass mess. 0/10.” Yeah, you could always count on Thea Holloway to impart alllll the important values to the young generation! Remember, kids: as long as nobody caught you red-handed, a crime wasn’t a crime. It was, uh… a legality evasion. Right.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, glancing at the screen. “You tried to suggest that maybe trainers should act like decent fucking people? That seems like the gravest offence in this shithole.”

***

Meanwhile, Brianna… proceeded to summon a Mew from her Pokéball?! How had she… “I made her with my mind,” she announced, clearly happy with the result. “All the starters bored me, so I just went for that one. If you ask me, rules are for people who believe in them. You do, though, don’t you?” A tiny smile appeared on her lips, and, somehow, that didn’t seem like a good thing. Yeah, yeah, Brianna was a sweetie and all, but she had also devised that devilish board game! (Maybe, had they allowed her to live, she would have gone on to be a successful developer. Some people did enjoy suffering in their games, after all.) “And this fight is gonna have some special rules, to make it fun for everyone!” Uh, severely doubtful? At least judging by her fucking tone.

“This is about Eleanor, not about us, and to make her appear, you will have to… hmm, collect the memory fragments I’m going to leave behind.” Behind her, three bubbles spawned, shimmering like pearls in the darkness. The core of each of them seemed alive with opalescent light, both beautiful and terrifying. “But, if you don’t act fast enough, they will disappear!” Had Brianna had her arms, surely she would have raised her finger now. “And since my Mew likes to play with them, I do recommend you to act fast. But, eh, I’m sure you’ll figure it out? I mean, you probably should, because with each lost memory, the prison Thea is in will get a little more dangerous. I mean, this is Eleanor’s memory scape. Who knows what happens when stuff just goes missing? I bet she’ll start making up new, exciting stuff to fill up the empty space.”

The Mew, of course, proceeded to grab the one of the pearls and started shoving it down her throat. Ugh! Pets, right?

 

[ellarose]

"...I believe in them when they make sense." Clara contemplated the question regarding rules seriously. Although she could acknowledge that her stance on 'rules' had been changing ever since this journey kickstarted (ever since she met Thea Holloway for the second time, namely) and had to confront what it meant to follow them over and over again. "If they're made with the intent to keep people safe then I can appreciate them. However... if they're designed to only benefit a few select people while keeping others in line? Then I think they deserve to be broken and changed. It depends on who's making the rules, doesn't it?" The subject was complex, wasn't it? There were numerous crafts and activities that required contracts and requirements that you use safety gear properly so that you didn't get hurt in the process. Of course Clara didn't mind following the rules in those cases! But then there were also contracts when people signed up for reality tv telling them 'not to talk about production'-- and in the aftermath would come to discover that production teams were actually composed of demons from the pits of hell who put the participants through intensive mental manipulation to get the drama and the ratings they desired. Speaking up to warn others could get them into a lot of trouble-- but there were some who managed to, hopefully convincing others to think before putting themselves (or goodness forbid their children) through the same bullshit. At the end of the day there was a difference between a kindly preschool teacher creating rules in the classroom to keep her students safe and a demon creating a list of rules to keep his precious little sacrifices all lined up in a neat little row for the apocalypse. (Or something like that, presumably. He struck her as a fan of cliches, so she figured his plans might involve quote unquote 'taking over the world' or something like that. They still didn't know exactly what he was planning to do-- or what would happen if the cultists managed to finish the job they couldn't finish and sacrifice her and Thea.) Come to think of it... while they were all gathered there, was there some way to take advantage of that? Wouldn't it help if all the 'sacrifices' worked together to break the demon's own rules, rather than fighting amongst themselves and throwing obstacles in each other's paths?

It was evident that was a theory Clara needed to think on later, though, when Brianna began explaining her own rules. (Silently, she considered the fact that she had already broken Brianna's rules once before. When she noticed that they were designed to keep them playing with her forever, it became apparent that their only way out of that would come ignoring those rules and pushing past them. Breaking those rules had gotten them thrown into a jail cell... very much like what happened to Thea before. Hm. She guessed that was a very childlike way of thinking. You broke the rules and you went to jail-- simple. Or, if you were a kid, at the very least had to sit in the corner for time out. Kids rules were oftentimes created for their own enjoyment. Usually, they were rigged so that they could win their own made-up games.) Of course, that childlike way of thinking took a sinister turn when Brianna implicated that the prison would become more dangerous if she failed. Ugh. Clara supposed she had the cultists to thank for the dark turns these worlds so often took. Those bastards. They really needed to find a way to use that energy against them, not to fight amongst themselves like this!

"Fine. I'll play your game." Clara agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. She sharpened her gaze and spoke firmly, hoping that she'd challenge all of the kids standing in that arena to think for a second. She needed to take advantage of the fact that all of the kids they'd released thus far were gathered together. "...Call me boring if you want. But I want to say one thing. There is nothing 'fun' about threats if you're using them against people who don't deserve it. Don't you realize that you're helping the very people who hurt you when you play with our lives this way?" Hell, Thea lost an arm the last time around! This wasn't a fucking game. They were suffering real, life-altering consequences for the things that happened in these ghostly worlds. Fantastical as they were, this wasn't some kind of virtual reality where nothing could hurt them. This wasn't a movie or a video game, even if it resembled one. The ghost kids could easily get lost in that. The same rules didn't apply to them, obviously. Maybe an anchor to the reality of the situation on the outside would get through to them? "I understand that you're all hurt from what happened to you. But wouldn't that anger feel much better directed towards those bastards who are actually responsible for all of this?" Lizzie, Ian, Brianna... for a moment, they all looked a bit guilty-- as if the words had effectively slapped them in the face. Maybe they needed that. A wake up call of sorts. "You're all capable of so much. I'm sure we could find a way to set a trap for--"

'Set a trap for who? That won't work, I'm afraid. I'm always here. Always watching. You're all useless and you don't stand a chance.' The demon hissed. (...It sounded like he was gritting his teeth in pain. As if it took everything in his power to cling to this connection. It was... faltering, fragile in a way it hadn't been before. Interesting.) Clearly he was desperate, though, because an invisible claw wrung around her throat and choked the rest of her words out. That told her that he was afraid. He wouldn't be so insistent on making her believe they were useless if he confidently held all the cards. He wouldn't need to resort to these threats, wouldn't need to interfere. He could just kick back and wait for his inevitable victory. 'I think it's fine time for you to stop singing, raven. You have a game to play, don't you? Crow's life is at stake!'

Clara wheezed for breath when he released her. (...That one thing was true. The game was beginning and she needed to keep Thea safe. The Mew seemed entirely disconnected from any sort of reflection Brianna might have been doing on the words she'd said as it leaped around the arena. Still. Something about that told her she was on the right track.)

"Pikachu..." Clara managed, watching as the electric Pokemon's menu appeared to give her a few choices. She figured that the adorable yellow bean might feel compelled to fight on Thea's behalf. (If this were an episode of the anime, she figured that would be the case. That was how 'kid rules' worked, in a way. That was how these worlds tended to function.) "Use quick attack."

The Pikachu shot forward like a strike of lightning through the sky towards the Mew, tackling it and effectively catapulting the pearl from its mouth before it could get lodged in its throat. (Clara knew that the pearls were meant to disappear with time, but that seemed an awful lot like a choking hazard.) The pearl rolled quickly across the floor and she dove to catch it in her hands... only to watch with horror as it vanished just seconds before she could graze it with her fingertips.

***​

In the prison, the sweet chiptune music slowed and gradually began resembling a suspenseful song out of a horror game instead. A wall of static replaced the colorful, Pokeball covered walls before they morphed turned into something that looked like the gritty, gray brick of an underground prison instead. Before the Pokemon officer could answer any of Thea's questions, her body blurred out into a figure made up of similar static before disappearing entirely as well. It was dark, with only a small overhead light flickering in the hall just outside of the cell. The only thing that hadn't changed entirely was the presence of Thea and Clara's younger selves, their tiny bodies huddled close together in the corner. The sharp sound of footsteps began to clip through the silence... and eventually two hooded cultists appeared. (Surprise, surprise.)

"Thea... in case we don't see each other again..." Beatrice began shakily, gripping tightly to her hand. She whispered. "Blue Toyota. There's a chance you might--" She clammed up quickly, finding that the cultists had gotten too close at that point. There was no way she was going to risk them hearing a peep from her. (...How many times had they been drowned or tortured at that point? Maybe it was better not to consider that.)

"Aw. We're so delighted to see that you children have bonded so well." One of the cultists said calmly in front of the bars, clapping his bloodstained gloved hands together as if he were a teacher observing two students and not a murderer observing soon-to-be sacrifices. "Unfortunately, we need to keep you two apart for a little while. Don't worry! You'll see each other again... when the time is right. You represent the sun and moon, after all! You can find solace in the fact that you will be together at the end." Ah. So what he was saying was that they needed to be sacrificed at the same moment, perhaps? (That might explain the fact that they were kept in cages side by side when the cultists had gotten their hands on them before.)

The other cultist unlocked the cell and approached their smaller selves. The way they grabbed Beatrice was rough-- too rough-- as if they were attempting to wrestle a lion instead of grabbing a little girl. That didn't mean their younger selves didn't fight like hell against this development, though, yelling their protests, scratching and attempting to bite at the cultist. (Strangely enough, even if the present Thea wanted to interfere with the memory she couldn't. Her hand would've phased through them like a ghost's might.) This struggle continued until the cultist shoved a cloth over Beatrice's nose and mouth. Her eyes went vacant and then fluttered shut as she was dragged away. Their movements were quick and practiced as they exited the cell-- and the barred doors slammed shut before Thea could do anything about it.

They disappeared down the hall. The other cultist with the bloodstained gloves remained, though, grinning at the two Theas still standing within the cell. From the inside of his hood he drew a knife.

"I hope you understand. It's come to our attention that we need to... question you children. It seems more efficient for us to do that separately." The cultist tilted his head to the side, his smile sharp through the shadows cast by his hood. "So, Thea. Have you seen or heard anything suspicious lately? Something that we ought to know about?"

 

[Syntra]

Let her just say this-- Thea Holloway was completely and utterly not shocked. Like, if the levels of her unimpressment (yes, that was a word now) could generate electricity? It could fucking power a whole-ass metropolis and still, still there would be something left! Of course. Of fucking course that her meeting the one (1) person that she didn't mind seeing instead of yet another trash goblin would result in, ta-dah! That person being removed. Pretty painfully, too. "Watch it, asshole," Thea growled, despite knowing damn well that this wasn't real. (Or, like, not anymore? The scene was probably built on some of that Authentic SufferingTM, but getting all angry over it was the equivalent of shaking your fist at a goddamn movie. Nope, you couldn't change a thing! The scripts had already been handed out, the ending written. As much as she wanted her adult self to be able to swoop down and save everybody superhero-style, that just wasn't fucking happening. Not when the real Thea was a kid herself, stuck in the same nightmare. Barring the sudden invention of a time machine, there were exactly zero things she could do prevent her peers from being, you know, murdered. Slaughtered, like convenient little sacrificial lambs. ...still, though. None of that meant she was actually helpless, wouldn't you agree? 'Cause she was Thea Holloway 2.0, the most badass version of Thea to ever Thea! With every fucking update, she only got more and more epic, and thus also more prepared to take the fuckers head-on. Like, shake in your boots, bastards! And, yeah, her actions here may not have had any meaningful impact on literally anything, but so what? You think she wasn't going to take the sweet, sweet wish-fulfilment instead? Then you knew nothing about Thea Holloway, the fucking queen of bad decisions and short-term pleasure.)

(On some level, she did realize this was actually a pretty good source of information. The sun and the moon, to be sacrificed together? The first time Thea heard of this, but it did sort of check out. Mainly in the incompetence department. Like, hellooo? The sun and the moon didn't actually meet that fucking often, mostly because the sky wasn't big enough for the two. ~Cool symbolism~ aside, this was a total astrological fail! But, yeah, it was probably hard to look up at the sky when your nose was buried deep, deep in your demonic master's ass. No real surprise here, Thea guessed.)

...did it hurt? Seeing Bea struggle against the grown-ass men, who didn't fucking hesitate to earn their 'greatest coward under the sun' badge via assaulting a little girl? Oh, it did. It really, really did, in the same way old scars hurt whenever the weather decided to asshole it up. Still, regardless of that? Thea only hardened her heart, 'cause crying wasn't going to win her any favors. "Something suspicious, huh?" she tilted her head aside inquisitively.

"You mean like unstable fucking psychos kidnapping kids for their depraved Cthulhu cult fantasies? In that case, I have news for you, pal: that's not what your demon buddy is like. The bitch isn't nearly as metal. He's been living in my head rent-free for a while now, and the most he managed was to donate one of his arms to me." As if to demonstrate the fact, Thea let the shadow expand-- the individual wisps sort of resembled tentacles now, in a manner that would please every true weeb's heart. Appropriately, all the color drained from the cultist's face.

"W-what! What did you do, Dorothea? How did you--"

"How many times do I have to explain," she rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck in the back of her skull, "that it's Thea? Fucking idiots. If you love those two syllables so much, just marry them and leave me the fuck alone. Now, where is Bea? Tell me, and maybe I won't have to kill you with my Murdery Hand of Slaughter." And, all things considered? Maybe that would have worked. The cultists collectively possessed a single brain cell, and it clearly wasn't this guy's turn to use it-- since she'd demonstrated her Magical Supremacy, he had mostly been just staring at her in complete bewilderment. (Maybe, with enough time, he'd start a cult for her as well! You know, given the compulsive need to fucking worship anything and anyone superior to his subpar ass. That he hadn't dedicated his life to stanning worms was the greatest mistake he'd ever made, honestly.)

Anyway, before the cultist could make so much as a peep, the prison wall was fucking shattered by a blue Toyota. A blue Toyota, which was... driven by Eleanor? Eleanor or Amy, depending on which twin had decided to ruin those fuckers' day.

Coughing, and feeling as if her lungs were about to explode from all the dust, Thea rubbed her eyes to get rid of all the smoke. (Spoiler alert? It did not fucking work. Ugh!) "What the hell is this? A rescue mission?"

***

Meanwhile, back in the Pokémon arena, the duel... continued, sort of. "You're right," Brianna sighed, ignoring Mew's antics. "But how are we supposed to hurt them, Clara? I mean, they're all big and strong and we're just children. And they... they..."

"They've killed us already," Ian supplied, as helpful as always. "Seems like a good enough proof to me that we can't do shit. How did you two manage to escape, anyway? Back then, you were little more than potatoes. Fucking tiny, and only good for being eaten!"

"Hey," Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "Maybe that's true about Clara, but don't you dare to drag Thea into this. She's my knight, and only escaped so that she could save me later. Isn't that obvious?" ...alriiight, it seemed that it was a nice day in the Delusion Land! Both Brianna and Ian grasped the fact, which was apparent from the glances they exchanged.

"Anyway," Ian folded his arms on his chest, "what do you propose? Got any brilliant plan, or are ya just trying to guilt us for being mad about our deaths? Not cool, dude! I know you would have been butthurt about this, too. I'd say that not even boring fucking nerds enjoy not having a heartbeat."

The Mew, who was completely ignoring all the exciting new developments, had somehow seized another pearl. She was dribbling it, its tails flicking with excitement, when, all of a sudden--

"Golly gee," Eleanor's face appeared on the (to this moment) dormant screen above the Pokémon stadium, and, as it did, the whole room came alive with colors. Red and silver and, yes, blue! ...somehow, those shades appeared sad, though. Like dead flowers, with their charms long faded. "Don't you know that these aren't toys? Those are my memories, kids. Clara! I expected so, so much better from you. What do you have to say for yourself?" Uh oh, it seemed someone was in trouble!

 

[ellarose]

Clara rolled her outstretched fingers inward, breathing a quiet curse under her breath. Not only had she failed to grab the pearl in time (and her heart flurried with panic as she considered the endless possibilities of repercussions that Thea might be facing as a result) but it seemed that suddenly everyone in that arena was staring at her with expectant eyes. Demanding answers, asking that she speak up and explain herself. While she tried her best just to stay afloat as the pressure rose around her like water, she didn't know everything. Couldn't promise anything to anyone with an air of sureness or a confident swagger. When it came down to it, she didn't know exactly what they could do to stop this. Not yet, anyway. (Even as a kid, she'd never once envisioned herself as the 'leader type'. More like the second in command who stuck mostly to research while offering the hero different theories and ideas.) Thea would be better suited for that sort of thing, she thought, with translating her silent but encouraging sentiments in a way that would get them all pumped up to at least try and fight back. Her sunny spirit was infectious and they clearly needed it if they were going to succeed. They couldn't-- she couldn't do this without her there. (And at the very least, she would immediately have Lizzie's support by default.) But Thea wasn't there. Everyone's expectations were solely placed on her shoulders and that weighed even heavier upon her when Eleanor appeared on the screen and began chastising her as well.

"...Ah. Now that you put it that way, you're right. Why should we bother fighting back? I don't know what I was thinking, really." Clara shrugged. She didn't bother picking herself up from the arena floor. She wasn't a cheerleader and so she wasn't turn cartwheels pretending that she was. Rather she allowed all of her limbs to relax and melt against the ground as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired anyway. (It was too bad that this wasn't a game in the sense that she could force a pause screen to appear.) "I give up."

The arena went quiet when she said those words. While everyone else shuffled awkwardly, Clara calmly took that time to focus on her breathing and think. (Every game, every challenge. Clara and Thea have had to give everything they had and then some just to make it out with their lives. If their painstaking efforts thus far hadn't proved anything at all to those kids yet? Then it seemed apparent to her that nothing would.)

"...Clara, what are you doing?" Lizzie was at last the one to break the silence. Clearly the kids had gotten so used to seeing Clara and Thea scramble around in a panic trying to survive every twist and turn they threw at them that the alternative of that struck them into a stupor.

"Waiting for death, obviously." Clara replied matter-of-factly. "I don't have a plan. Not yet. If you all don't want to try, then this is what the alternative will look like. All of us dead. Those murderers getting away with it... and getting everything they could possibly want." Feeling that she had more or less gotten that part of her point across, she hoisted herself back up so that she was sitting upright and pinned Ian in particular with a sharp glare. "Of course you're allowed to be mad about your deaths. Hell, I'm angry for you. I just want to make sure you're getting mad at the right people."

"I tried to use Eleanor's advice to help everyone... but I was only a kid. We were all just kids." Clara sighed, looking as tired as she felt. (Snapshots of memories flipped through her mind. The way she'd crept around in the evenings, trying to look for different ways to escape. The way she mourned the loss of each empty bed in their room as more and more kids were sacrificed. The soul-crushing pressure, the concept of her own death fast approaching, experience the kind of grief no child should ever have to experience.) "I tried and I failed. I'm sorry." She gazed up at the screen, directly at Eleanor. The girl's expression was hard to read as she took all of it in. "...You know what that's like, don't you? That's why you warned me. You only wanted to help us." They carried a similar guilt in their hearts surviving to the very end. They had seen so many other kids carried off never to return again. They'd been helpless to stop it.

"And your choice saved me and Thea back then. I want that to matter. I may not have all the answers now... but I want to use the life I've got to try and do something. Because if the rest of us die then these bastards get to win." Clara figured it was fairly straightforward, even if she didn't know precisely what was supposed to happen once they were all sacrificed. "Think of the worlds you all have built." She gestured to the arena. "Everything you've had me and Thea go through up to this point. You're all a lot more powerful than you're giving yourselves credit for now." (And what more did they have to lose, really?)

There must've been some way for them to fight back, right? (The same way that Thea tore into the demon and returned with a brand new arm.) After all, they discovered with Brianna's world that people from the outside could get pulled within the ghost realms. Maybe if Clara and Thea acted as a key-- as bait, even-- they could guide those cultists right into a ghostly death trap. It was a risk to be sure, but...

"I know that face." Eleanor sighed from the screen, looking a bit resigned. The two remaining pearls had floated in the air, still intact even through everything that Clara managed to get off her chest. "You're coming up with a plan as we speak, aren't you?"

"I don't have it yet." Clara admitted, awkwardly biting her lip. "I need some more time to think it through. But..."

"But you're going to try, right? I know." Eleanor nodded. The pearls rose higher into the air and then gleamed brightly, so brightly that the arena began to flake away piece by piece and--

***​

And suddenly? Suddenly all of them were crammed in the blue Toyota together. Amy in the driver's seat, Eleanor in the passenger's, with Lizzie, Ian, Brianna, Clara and Thea squished together in the back seat. Clara grabbed Thea's hand tightly the second that she was near. (...It didn't matter that she was holding her shadow hand. It was still a part of her, as far as she's concerned.) Thank goodness. It seemed like she was all right, then. They both were. (For a moment, the memory almost seemed like a nostalgic road trip with friends-- everyone around them joking around and trying to talk over each other.) While the position they were in was uncomfortably cramped, it gradually became more and more spacious in the back as Lizzie vanished with a flicker. Then Ian. Then Brianna, too.

"No, no, no." Amy began, her voice tight with hurt. The car swerved dangerously as she became distracted, watching her twin sister in the passenger seat become more and more translucent. "Don't leave me! Eleanor, it wasn't supposed to be like this! You were supposed to make it out."

"They were so little, Amy. I don't think I could've lived with myself if I saved myself and let them die." Eleanor said softly, setting a fading hand on her sister's shoulder. "I had to do something."

Then? Then Eleanor disappeared and the car crashed into a tree. While the initial impact accompanied a frightening jolt, eventually everything stilled and it became apparent that the damage hadn't hurt any of the remaining passengers. "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Amy repeated, frustratedly throwing her fists down and turning her head to glare at Clara and Thea. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Why should you two get to live?"

 

[Syntra]

Fuck, shit, fuck! Why did everyone in this goddamn nightmare seem to think she was their personal ragdoll, to be dragged around as they saw fit? Maybe Thea didn't want to succumb to the memetic fucking stranger danger, but, nooo, of course that they didn't even have the decency to ask her if she was on board with all of that. You know how low that was? So low that even the evil fucking queen from Snow White looked better in comparison, 'cause she'd offered the apple! Instead of shoving it down the hapless princess's throat. "Let me fucking guess," Thea rolled her eyes. "You're going to crash into something, aren'tcha? Yeah, yeah, I know, don't be a Negative Nancy and shit, but you lot haven't given me a lot of reasons to think that this is anything but a long-ass trauma conga line." (And, yes, it did suck. Literally everything that had happened to them thanks to those demon-worshiping lunatics sucked, but like, why did they have to suffer for it? Just, helloooo! Spoiler alert: Thea hadn't survived so that she could point and laugh at the dead fucking kids. She'd survived because of... what? A lucky coin toss? Some asshole up in the sky deciding she was epic enough to be The Chosen OneTM? The factors were like domino tiles, connected by a thread of causality too fucking thin to be spotted by the naked eye, and Thea... shit, Thea didn't care. Not one bit. The point was that she was still there, despite the countless attempts to change that. By some miracle, she was clinging to life-- desperately, stubbornly, and not always in a dignified fucking way, but, hey, that was how this shit worked. You couldn't wear a non-stop Hollywood smile in a decidedly non-Hollywood reality, with no doubles to take over for dangerous fucking stunts. Still, even so? She'd managed to carve a piece out of that cruel world for herself, and learned to enjoy living. With Clara by her side, that sort of thing was easy. Why, then, were they trying to take it away from them?! She could kinda sorta understand why those bitch-ass cultists did it, in the same way you understood why a big corporation would try to fuck you over, but coming from their literal peers... Yeah, that was a hard pill to swallow. So very much.)

Thea was just taking a breath to go on one of her famed rants, when... ah! There she was. Clara. Clara, and the others. (Immediately, her frantic pulse calmed down some, and she squeezed her hand in response. It was fine. Well, okay, it fucking wasn't, but at least the world wasn't ending? That was the panic-o-meter they'd been going with these days, so Thea was just making sure it stayed properly calibrated.) "Hey there, gorgeous," she winked at her gf (!!!), trying to sound smooth and not, you know, terrified. Not that Clara would judge her, of course, but that sort of thing was infectious-- the lizard brain was a needy, conformist bitch, and the second it realized it was ~socially acceptable~ to panic, the floodgates were opened. Nah, better to play it cool for now.

"You enjoyed your Pokémon battles?" she asked Clara, both because she wanted to know and to keep up the appearance of normalcy. "I bet you kicked all of their asses, and-- oof!" Yeah, fucking oof. Surprise, surprise, ladies and gentlemen! Just like clockwork, the Toyota did fucking crash straight into a tree. Truly, the gift of prophecy she possessed was downright unparalleled. The impact sent her forward, causing her to extend her arms in a vain attempt to shield herself, which, ouch, ouch, ouch! Fucking hell, this was totally going to bruise. (In the best case scenario, that was. Broken bones was the worst one, but a) Thea hadn't actually heard that telltale crack, b) as far as worst case scenarios went, this one was still actually sort of tame. Again, just a matter of standards!)

A quick glance at Clara told her that her gf (!!!) was fine, more or less, and that meant she could actually focus on Amy. Amy, who was the living fucking twin. Amy, who had tried so hard to save her sister only for her efforts to crumble to dust. No wonder that she'd held on the resentment, eh? Except, just like she'd told Bea a few moments ago, it was important to aim that shit! You couldn't fucking go to a mall with a bazooka and slaughter the hell out of innocent people just because you got a D on an important test. Or, technically, you could, but what did that solve? Did counting all the bodies deepen your knowledge of algebra, huh? Oh no, it fucking didn't!

"...'cause Eleanor wanted that," Thea said plainly. "Are you happy to be shitting on her legacy?"

"What?!" Amy did not look pleased, but at least she was listening now, as opposed to demolishing more cars.

"Look," Thea narrowed her eyes, "we didn't choose this, either. We were kids, not cartoon villains manipulating your sister into giving up her ticket to freedom. What do you even want me to say? That I'm sorry I'm still alive? Well, I'm not! I'm fucking thankful for the chance she gave us, and always will be. That's all there is to it."

"She-- she fucking died for you..."

"Yeah, and you're keeping her here." The words spilled past her lips without thinking, like a bullet from a malfunctioning gun, but in her heart, she knew it to be true. It fucking had to be! Amy, too, probably understood what she was getting at-- instead of the expected protests, she just stared at her with wide eyes, and clutched the steering wheel till her knuckles went white. Sensing that her chance might slip away from her, Thea continued to speak.

"She's okay with her choice. There are no regrets for her to hold onto, except for the one where she disappointed you. Won't you forgive her? You know, so that we can actually focus on the fuckers who did that to us. I'm gonna say, you are kind of an asshole, Ivy, though I get it. I really, really do. I'm gonna punch you in the nose the next time I see you, but, fucking hell, you're not my enemy. You're not my enemy, and if you want to, we can help you avenge your sis."

A single tortured sound escaped from Amy's throat - something between a gasp and a sob - and then... then the engine filled the whole-ass car with white fucking fog. Of course. Of course! Was it going to explode, action movie style? Thea was pretty fucking sure that an imminent explosion didn't look like that, but children's dreams rarely cared about scientific fucking accuracy. She searched for Clara, for her sole certainty in this fucking bullshit, and then--

--then they were suddenly sitting in a waiting room, with patients talking over one another. In a decidedly normal waiting room. (The shadow arm was gone, but Thea could feel its presence on the edge of her mind, just like one could sense a badly fitting shoe. Huh! Probably better that the normies didn't see that one, she had to admit. Ending up in some secret government testing facility because she dared to be ~special~ was not the ending she had in mind for her story!) "Shit," she gave an easy smile, in a contrast to the heavy fucking feeling in her heart. "You okay? I can't believe we did it again, Loveless. But, hey, haven't you thought about a surname change? 'Cause it reads to me as false advertising at this point." Yeah, nothing like some awkward flirting to escape trauma! Hahaha.

 

[ellarose]

"I don't know... I still have a reputation to uphold." Clara said with a tired little grin. Geez. Thea was impossible-- solving their ghost predicaments with her words of wisdom and then flirting in the next breath. It did help to lighten the mood as well as the weight she carried on her shoulders now, knowing that it was up to her to come up with some kind of solution. (To try, just like she'd promised. As long as she had Thea at her side though it wouldn't be very hard to do. She hadn't been lying, after all, when she'd said that her girlfriend inspired her to do just that.) "Besides, I'd consider you an exception to most people. You get Thea-exclusive access to my heart." Ah, what was she even saying anymore? She felt like a dork. But... it didn't really matter if she was a dork in front of Thea. It didn't matter if she was herself. Cheesy as that might have sounded, that was a part of how she knew that what they had was special. She felt tempted to kiss her right then and there... but considering they were sitting in a crowded waiting room, she decided she'd force herself to wait just a little bit longer. Silently, she wondered what had happened to them in the real world while they were away. Everything seemed fine and all, but she couldn't help but wonder. Did their bodies in the real world respond and react like normal when their consciousnesses were in the ghost realms? And what did the doctor say about... whatever it was that was wrong with her? (Probably a good sign that she wasn't strapped to a table somewhere, being experimented on for some unknown supernatural illness that might've made the evening news. Speaking of... it was probably a good thing that Thea's shadow arm didn't remain, either. While that might have made life easier in some ways, she had a feeling that the people all around them wouldn't exactly know what to make of it. That'd be another headline, another headache.) Anyway. Just how did she and Thea get out there?

Upon finding them, Raoul confirmed that nothing particularly strange happened in the meantime. The doctor prescribed her some antibiotics for her injuries and sent them on their way without much more fuss than that. Whatever had overtaken her, it seemed that whatever she and Thea had done to combat it in the ghost realm had more or less cleared it up. (...For now, anyway.) This wasn't something she could do much research on, considering that such research didn't seem to exist. It was hard to say whether the parasite was gone for good or whether it would wake back up if she succumbed and used her portion of the demon's power. Either way, she learned the hard way that she shouldn't rely on it as a crutch. She was more or less headed in a direction she was confident in when she thought about the demon's attempts to dissuade her. If that meant anything to her, it was that she was on the right track when it came to bringing all of the ghosts together.

When they returned to the house, Clara was under strict instructions from Raoul to rest and recover. Thea had begun teaching her to cook dinner on nights when they were left to their own devices-- which was usually followed with her attempting to teach her how to defeat zombies in video games. (She still had a habit of covering her eyes and dying. Her girlfriend was very supportive, though she had a hunch she was giggling on the inside through it all.) They'd shared some kisses since their first one in that hospital room. Those were... nice. Very, very nice in fact. Nicer than nice. Although they hadn't actively set aside the time to, ah, finish what they'd started yet. Clara might have been guilty of waiting for the right atmosphere for it. Or maybe she was a little bit nervous to initiate. Not because Thea made her nervous in a bad way or anything, but... the butterflies could get a bit overwhelming whenever she tried to work up the nerve. Before she went to sleep, imagining the way Thea's lips and hand would feel exploring her skin, she felt like her heart might actually explode out of her chest.

Clara usually cooled down when she began thinking of her future plans. She used any of the moments that weren't spent with Thea immersing herself fully into her research. She was prioritizing it over sleep lately. (...She could sleep when she was dead. A day that might come sooner rather than later if she didn't figure this out.) One night she'd asked the equally sleep deprived detective if she could look through his files on the kidnappings and the cult's dealings and connections. Considering he wasn't pursuing this expressly supernatural case 'by the books', there were no guidelines to abide by when it came to confidentiality and he agreed without her having to twist his arm or stage any heists. (She had to breathe a sigh of relief at that. While she was not above pulling heists at this stage, it was easier to take bold actions like that in the ghost realms. Breaking the rules in real life brought with it a sense of anxiety that she couldn't quite shake.) Either way, she continued chipping away at her giant theory board-- tacking up pictures she had drawn of all the different kids, cultists, phenomenons and symbols they had encountered thus far and tracing the connections with red thread.

Snow was drifting softly outside and a layer of frost had crept over the window in her room. Currently Clara was working through her theories on the function of water in the ghost realms. It was a recurring theme-- from the cultists methods of drowning them when they misbehaved to the way it acted as a portal between the realms. (Thea had gifted Lizzie that silver bracelet by dropping it into that pot of water, effectively transporting it over to their side. Clara had outright melted that cultist masquerading as a wolf in Ian's realm by dumping a pot of water over him.) A sea of ink, the tank of water she'd fallen into during the circus performance, wish fish, rivers of blood... there was the lake they had to travel through in the most recent iteration as well. Water was a fear she and Thea shared. A fear that likely connected all of the children, given the way the cultists had tortured them with threats of drowning.

Somehow it seemed fitting to use that weapon against them. Maybe they could turn the tables and use the water against the cultists in those realms somehow... Clara just had to piece together how they would go about doing that.

Clara jumped about a foot in the air when the door opened, effectively jostling her out of her thoughts. Thea. It's just Thea. She rested a hand over her pounding heart, deflating with a relieved little smile.

"Hi there." Clara said casually, as if there wasn't some giant project sitting sprawled out in front of her. She checked the clock on the nightstand behind her. Oh, it was six thirty. Was it that time already!? "Oh, wow. I totally lost track of time. I'm just..." She stood from the floor, looking over her board once last time as she ran her fingers back through her disheveled hair. "Just trying to puzzle some stuff out. It's about time we make dinner, huh." Puzzle some stuff out was definitely an understatement for all of this. It was still a work in progress, though, so she wasn't sure whether or not she had anything worthwhile to share yet. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

 

[Syntra]

They needed a fucking break. Which, like, duh? The thing was, these duh-worthy moments only ever became apparent in hindsight, when you weren't too busy trying to, you know, survive. Or at least thinking of a cool one-liner before you kicked the bucket, 'cause you weren't going to die like some fucking loser. Nope, not in Thea Holloway-land! (She was positively sure that the whole ghostbusting gig had taken at least five years off her fucking lifespan. Just, stress? Check. Losing limbs? Check. Laying the foundations for an intense, life-long paranoia? Check, check and check! ...then again, it had also allowed her to meet Clara. Without the demon's meddling, they likely would have gone their separate ways, with her gf (!!!) becoming a famous artist and her... a vegetable? Yeah, not too likely that there would have been much of an overlap between that. You win some, you lose some, Thea guessed! And, at the risk of sounding like a sap, she was real fucking happy that it had turned out the way it had. Minor edits to certain aspects of it would have been swell, but... yeah.)

It was almost surreal, really, how quickly they slipped into something that resembled a cheesy sitcom routine. Yeah, they didn't have kids, and none of them ever came back from work expecting a hot dinner, and there also weren't stupid-ass 'go back to the kitchen' jokes, and... okay, fine! Maybe it didn't resemble a fucking sitcom. (It didn't resemble anything that Thea knew, actually. Anything at all. Waking up and seeing someone else smile at her, as opposed to the usual 'fuck off, weirdo' shtick? Having that someone else talk to her? This was, like, a completely new version of humanity! Humanity+, the famed premium content that had so far been locked behind her... well, not having Clara. Behind her not getting to be herself, and instead presenting a Thea-shaped mask. Funny how that worked, huh? Something, something, the terrifying ordeal of being known! ...except that, with Clara, it hadn't ever been terrifying. Instead, it felt like finally finding a key that fit her heart perfectly, and it being opened was a natural consequence. Something as normal as breathing.)

Which, speaking of """natural consequences"""? The natural consequence of spending so much time with her gorgeous gf (!!!) was... uhh, getting ideas. You know, xxx-rated ideas. Ideas that would be branded as 'the gay agenda' by a certain brand of conservative folks, and for once in their miserable, lonely lives, they'd be absolutely fucking right, too! Nothing quite said 'the gay agenda' like wanting to make your gf (!!!) see the stars. But, aargh, what about the TimingTM? What if she went too fast? Clara hated going too fast, and the last time she'd tried to step on the gas before she was ready, it had resulted in everything fucking collapsing on them. Not that Thea thought that the incident would repeat itself, of course! And it was kind of nice, to brush up against her in the kitchen occasionally and ~wonder~ whether the same swarm of butterflies assaulted her stomach at the brief contact. At the same time, though? Thea really, really would have appreciated some Clara-approved manual, or a fancy set of instructions, or literally anything that wasn't just fumbling around in the fucking darkness. Like, what did they even have civilization for if it wasn't going to provide useful social scripts? Where was her 'How To Seduce Your Girlfriend After Kicking a Demon's Ass' wikipedia article, huh? This shit right there was the proof that they'd failed collectively as the human race, every single one of them. The long-ass string of ancestors that were looking down at them from the heavens? All of them must have fucking regretted getting laid in retrospect, given the failure it had led to! Their genome had been cursed from the very beginning, their offspring too weak to survive the winter. That's fine, Thea told herself. We can have a chaste romance. It will be cute as fuck. Composing poetry about my lady's virtues is as valid as anything, and I can always write spicy fucking fanfic about us when I get ~urges~. Three years of that, and I bet she'll know that I'm serious about her. A foolproof plan! ...in theory, at least. When she entered Clara's room and saw her being that cute, though? Like, criminally fucking cute? Yeah, the plan was beginning to fall apart faster than a house of cards in a fucking thunderstorm. Calm down, Holloway. Calm down, calm down, calm down!!! Don't you dare to think about how nice it would be to squeeze those thighs, and... whoopsie. Thanks so much, brain! Now that was all Thea could think about, especially with the visual her imagination oh so helpfully provided. Ugh! And to think Clara was actually trying to work here, while she'd been sitting on her ass and trying not to be, as the cool kids said, 'too gay to function.' (Spoiler alert: that mission had not been a success. Not by any definition of that fucking word.)

"Hmm?" Thea raised her eyebrow, playful sparks dancing in her eyes. You, if things go well. Obviously, she couldn't admit to that, though! Not unless she was applying for the 'Biggest Cringe of the Year' award. "Whatever you decide to cook, I guess. I was too busy thinking about how beautiful my girlfriend is. After I set the kitchen on fire twice, I decided I'd leave it in your capable hands." Perilously close to the actual truth, by the way, but she hadn't sunk quite as low yet. Therefore, safe joking territory! (Kinda.) "Nah, it's pasta bolognese. Can't ever go wrong with that, I'd say. Like, the second you say you don't like pasta bolognese, I'm gonna suspect you of being a vampire or some shit. Not eating human food in general is the only fucking thing that can explain it." Casually, Thea wrapped her hands around Clara's waist (!!!) and tried to ignore just how not-casual it felt. Just, cute girl alert, cute girl alert! "What do you have here?" she gestured towards the chaos behind her, thankful for the excuse to... sorta stay like this. Heh.

 

[ellarose]

Clara pursed her lips having the 'whatever you decide' sprung on her. Because ah geez, if she had known it was her night to pick she might've done a little research, a little prep, something--! (And Thea knew very well how much she preferred to have time to prep for these things rather than having them sprung on her! If she thought the smooth cute girlfriend comment was going to distract her from that, she had another thing co-- okay, okay. She couldn't help but wear a tiny smile.) "Hey. You're saying this to someone who actually has set the kitchen on fire once. I didn't cook anything for years because Raoul wouldn't let me live it down." A true story, unfortunate as it was. It was a case of Clara thinking she was older than she actually was and knew how a stove worked. (She was six and she did not. She had to stack books on the floor to reach the switch and in her rush to turn it off, the books had toppled over. It was a mess.) Not that Raoul could cook anything decent either. Whenever he looked up a recipe and had her try it with him, it always became quickly apparent that were both hopeless in the kitchen. (Her brother had to ask her what a ladle was. 'Big soup spoon?' She had answered dubiously, knowing well that whatever they were going to make was going to be a disaster. And it was.) Whenever they got to eat a home cooked meal it was from a distant relative checking in, a kindly neighbor, or a gesture from a concerned coworker. Thea had been a lifesaver with her cooking know-how. Dinners-- and even the part where they prepared the dinners-- were becoming a lot more fun. She couldn't help imagining a future where they actually lived together, when they were finally free of all of the bullshit they've been dealing with. With a kitchen that smelled like real food and someone to cozy up next to at the end of a long day. They never really had that growing up. After Raoul adopted her things got better, sure, but she was often left to her own devices to eat whenever he worked late at the clinic. Thea brought a certain energy to the table, she got along well with Raoul... and maybe it was cheesy, but Clara liked imagining the future holidays they could spend together. In a way, she could sense that Thea wanted that feeling of safety and stability just as much as she did.

Whew. There was a plan after all. Thank goodness! "You punk." Clara lightly punched Thea's arm when she revealed she actually did have a plan for their dinner. Gosh. She had drawn a total blank and might have been close to panicking, considering all the prep-work she should've done in advance to come up with something good. "Mhm, that sounds good. I love pasta bolognese." But I love you more. (Ah, cheesy alert!) She lifted herself up onto her tip-toes and planted a kiss on her girlfriend's adorable nose. Then she squinted playfully. "...There's not a part of you secretly hoping I've been a vampire all this time, is there?"

Clara grinned and leaned in instinctively when Thea held her. Warm. Soft. Nice. (In the last couple of days she had scientifically confirmed her theory that there was no better place to nap than pressed up against her girlfriend.) "Should we...?" She was going to suggest they head into the kitchen to get started, but stopped herself when Thea asked about her board. Ah. Yeah. That. It was a big mess of red thread and theories... basically a physical manifestation of what the inside of her brain looked like recently. (Save for, ah, the fantasies involving Thea.) Her cheeks and ears blazed a light red when she glanced at it, remembering its existence. Normally she stashed it in the closet whenever she wasn't working away at it. It was the definition of a work in progress. "Oh. This. It's..." She laughed airily, pressing her face against Thea's shoulder. "A mess."

"I'm, ah, trying to figure out how to set a trap for the demon using the ghost realms." Clara decided to fess up after a moment, her brows knitting with concentration. "The kids have certainly found ways to put us through it. I just thought if we could direct all of their resentment at the right target for once..." She bit her lip, chewing hard as she often did when she was working on a project. "It might be silly. But if I find an effective method, we could persuade the kids to put their energy towards something other than just messing with the two of us."

Clara knew just from looking at her board that she needed more information. Sure she had gathered a lot after all of this time, as evidenced by the mess sprawled all across the bedroom floor, but there were still crucial pieces of this puzzle that were missing.

"When it comes down to it, we don't really know a lot about the demon. We don't even know what he's called." Clara sighed and nestled closer in against Thea. Not that she particularly wanted to know-- but she had a feeling that might be key to defeating him. This whole situation they were trapped in was a headache. (A headache wrapped in about a million different nightmares to be more precise.) But she wanted to solve it. She wanted to contribute to bringing them closer to a peaceful life where they didn't have to deal with any of this. "I'm thinking we need to target the cultists first. See if we can get anything from them. It'll be dangerous, but..." They might have to do it if they ever want to be left alone once and for all. She shook her head as if to reset her thoughts. Giving up wasn't an option. At this point it was either sink or swim. "Raoul and the detective got pulled in with us that one time. If we can figure out how that happened, then maybe we can find some way to use those realms to our advantage."

Clara proceeded to go on a tangent about all of her previous thoughts on the water in the ghost realms, as well as a few other details she picked up here and there before her stomach grumbled and interrupted her. "...I still need to work on it. Like I said, it's a mess." Blushing furiously (bashfully, at having spoken so much) she took Thea's hand in hers. "And now I'm definitely hungry. Are you ready for dinner?"

 

[Syntra]

"Weeell," Thea tilted her head aside, a playful smirk on her lips, "I'm pretty fucking sure the kitchen deserved it. I mean, you're too much of a hippie to hurt anything without a good reason. What sin did it commit? Made ya believe in the 'one clove of garlic is enough' hoax? 'Cause that's never enough. Remember, Clara: garlic is love, garlic is life." So, uh, question. Was it a good dating strategy to sing praises of garlic? Something told her she should be, like, composing poetry about the exact shade of her gf's (!!!) hair, but that felt so fucking cheesy that it would make even Cerberus cry tears of blood. Shit, how did you flirt again?! (For the record, Thea Holloway was smooth. Extremely so! Clara had just taken that smoothness, crumpled it into a little ball, and thrown it in the fucking trash bin. Was that what it was like to actually care about the person you were dating? Mindblowing! ...not that she had been a better version of Casanova on purpose, mind you. Riding off into the sunset, accompanied by the wails of disgraced maidens, had never been her idea of an ego boost. More than that, it had been a matter of... well, lack of opportunities? 'Cause nobody had bothered to get to know her beyond the 'hi, I'm Thea Awesome Holloway' shtick. Beyond the mask that she hadn't realized she'd been wearing, really.)

Oh my god, telepathy alert, telepathy fucking alert! "W-what?" the brunette laughed, in a totally casual way. Not a hint of nervousness to be seen! The rosy blush that bloomed on her cheeks? Yet another piece of evidence for how fucking unconcerned she was, in case you asked her. Blushing = increased blood flow, which was one of those... uh, random things that your body did just to fuck with you. Yet another cruel trick of god, most likely conceived in an attempt to rub their helplessness into their faces! "Of course not. Never even crossed my mind. Along with, uh, some other fantasies that I have never conceived. For example, I definitely haven't imagined you as a hot, stern teacher. Also, and this is totally unrelated, have you ever worn glasses?" ...what? You mean to say that Thea wasn't the undisputed master of stealth? (Well, maybe she didn't care to be. Not when Clara, you know, accepted her as she was and shit. At the risk of being too fucking presumptuous, Thea guessed that their relationship would survive some... uhh, untraditional preferences. Heh.)

Of course, Clara being Clara, she had to introduce some big braining into the equation. And, hey, why not? Sometimes, thinking could be valid! Especially when you had your gf (!!!) in your arms, meaning you could use the opportunity to ~hold her~ for longer. (Damn, Clara had no business being this fucking hot. How was she supposed to, like, not touch her? At any given time? She was but a mere human, and those weren't exactly known for their resolve. There was a reason that humanity's fucking backstory revolved around a chick fucking up and enjoying that delicious, delicious apple! ...and Clara would definitely be even tastier, ugh. Thea just knew it.) "No, no, that makes a lot of sense," she argued, forcing her thoughts firmly into the 'sfw' category. After all, their rom-com life couldn't quite start yet-- not with the deranged demon hellbent on, uh, sacrificing them for some Nefarious GoalTM. Call her ungrateful, but Thea thought that version of the script had been written by someone a) very mean, b) very drunk. "The fucker should taste some of his own medicine. About the name, ya think knowing that would help? Like, a lot of magical mumbo jumbo revolves around names describing their owners' true nature and shit, so, uh... I guess I was wondering if that might be relevant. Could be why the idiot hasn't introduced himself. I mean, do you think he'd miss the opportunity for a dramatic entrance without a good reason? You can bet your ass he'd be like 'Hurrr durrr, fear Belzebub the Terrible,' if he could remotely get away with it. But, fuck, I don't think demons have birth certificates. How to get to that piece of info?" Yeah, yeah, maybe it was a random-ass thought with no relevance to literally anything, but Thea sure as hell was running with it. So what? It was her turn with the tinfoil hat, god fucking dammit! (And, like, Clara shouldn't be forced to do all of the brainstorming alone. Not how relationships worked, mate! Even if her own ideas ended up being shit, maybe her gf (!!!) could use them as a springboard to reach better, not-shitstain-covered heights.) "But the cultists are kinda braindead, not gonna lie. Thinking of it now, I'm pretty sure we could just... uh, ask them to give us a lecture about their Lord and Savior. They are going to give us a fucking pamphlet within three seconds flat."

The dinner, though! Yeah, they could StrategizeTM later, especially considering that... haha. Nevermind. Never-fucking-mind! Reluctantly, Thea let go of her gf's (!!!) waist, and grabbed her hand instead. "It's not a fucking mess. I'd call it 'work in progress,' love. Let's go, then? Buuuut I kind of hope that you aren't that hungry yet, 'cause the sauce isn't quite ready. It should stew for a bit. See, I was thinking we could do... uh, something special tonight." What Thea meant by that became apparent very soon-- you know, judging by the ~intimate~ lighting provided by the candles, and the rose petals strewn on the table. (Was that too much? Well... if so, then she was fucked! And not even in the good way, if ya catch her drift.)

"I, uh, bought some cinema tickets for Raoul?" she said, feeling absurdly self-conscious for some reason. She's literally your gf, that kind of thing is normal! Of fucking course you want to be alone. She wants to be alone with you, too. Which, tragically enough, still didn't stop the fire from reaching her cheeks. Ugh! Curse you, frail human body. "I have determined, through my superior fucking reasoning skills, that the demon doesn't want us to have fun. Having fun makes you live longer," citation not needed, "and that's not in his interest. So, let's have fun?" The only thing that was missing from the Ultimate Cliche Checklist was romantic music, so of course that Thea had to remedy that via turning the gramophone on. Heh.

"Would ya honor me with a dance, Miss Loveless?" she extended her healthy hand, offering Clara a disarming smile. "We can, like, cosplay being Victorian ladies. The fun factor of that seems sky-high to me."

 

[ellarose]

Clara gazed down at her board. All red thread, choppy sketches and notes... it was objectively a mess, she knew. But it was also hard work and it did reassure her to get Thea's input and hear that she thought she was actually going somewhere with it. There was nothing quite like writing out one theory after the next only to later realize she was going down a rabbit hole of utter nonsense instead. Or being told that her tendency to plan ahead was all just 'a real bad case of paranoia'. (As if she was somehow 'overreacting' when she prepared herself to deal with kidnapping plots or murder attempts after everything she had been through.) There was a reason why Clara used to hide all of the paintings of the monsters from her nightmares in her closet. A reason why she tried to keep the muchness of her diaries and thoughts locked away, holding it all under that perfected guise that she always had her shit 'together'. Thea, of course, didn't judge her. Anything she revealed to Thea was received in a no-judgement zone, where she was safe and warm no matter what she could be talking about. (Besides, she knew what she was going through better anyone. Even if she coped with it differently, nothing changed the fact that they were in this together and understood each other on that level. After so many years spent all alone? That was... nice. Having someone to share her innermost thoughts with was nice.) That she didn't see her efforts as a joke or a complete waste of time gave her the incentive she'd need to work harder at it in the future. More than that, her girlfriend had some valid points to contribute to the discussion as well. The demon mostly taunted them, talked vaugely about his grand plans or described his sorely outdated (trash) taste in media.

"...I think you're right. It has to be important." Clara mused thoughtfully. "If we knew his name then we could do more research. Look for his weaknesses." The cultists had to have found him somehow, right? Or summoned him? Unless he sought them out himself. Their origin story wasn't necessarily one that she wanted to know... but she had a feeling that knowing might help them solve this puzzle. (Besides, didn't they deserve to know why they were being sacrificed? Why they were being forced to go through all of this?) "Although I think they'd sooner just kill us just to get it over with than give us a pamphlet." Yeah. If those cages they'd stuffed them in were any indicator, anyway. (How close had they been to death back then? She's not sure. And she doesn't like remembering, either... because memories of that cage also involved those with Thea on top of her, blood streaming down over her like a waterfall, there was so much she could drown in it--) Ghosts of the fear she felt in that moment jolt around beneath her skin. (That anxious voice in her head told her she was scared to death. That they were better off changing their names and falling off the radar.) No. We need to face them again. There's no way around it now. Even if everything in her wanted to run and hide...they owed it to the others and to themselves to finally see this through.

And that was exactly why Clara needed to prepare.

"Come to think of it, he doesn't use our names very often, either. Maybe there's a reason for that?" Clara wondered aloud. Beyond having to remember the names of those he killed for whatever his master plan was, maybe it was an attempt to treat them like birds to be caged? There was a lot to all of this. A lot they wouldn't discover just talking about it in this bedroom. (She seriously needed some air. Some air and food and some much-needed quality time with her girlfriend.) Shaking her head to shake her thoughts, she offered Thea a smile when she generously called her board a work in progress. That was technically what it was... and they could get back to it later. For now she was more than ready to kick back and enjoy a relaxing dinner-- she blinked and tilted her head to the side inquiringly when Thea mentioned doing something 'special' tonight. Special in what way?

Truthfully, Clara wasn't the biggest fan of surprises. She liked knowing what was coming so that she could prepare. Mainly because none of Ivy's 'surprises' had ever led to anything particularly wholesome or fun. (On the surface, Ivy making her blush was very 'cute' and all... but continuing to push after she explicitly said it bothered and embarrassed her? Stopping would have been the mature course of action. The problem was Ivy didn't know how to stop.) Thea was not Ivy-- that was obvious. The distinction was organized very clearly in her mind, too. They were nothing alike and her instincts had no business comparing them in any shape or form. But her anxieties caused her heart to race and her insides to tense up all the same when they stepped into the kitchen. When she saw what was waiting for her there, however, the tension loosened immediately while her heart kept pounding on and on. This was special. And sweet. And very romantic.

"Wow." Clara breathed. She found herself standing there speechless as Thea mentioned the cinema tickets for Raoul and proceeded to turn on the music. (Even in the low light, she could see the pink in her very cute, very kissable cheeks. She was really trying here, wasn't she? That she went to all of this effort for her was-- ah. Really sweet and thoughtful. Very much like something she thought would only ever happen to her in romantic daydreams and not in real life.) If these were the sorts of surprises that Thea Holloway had in store for her then she wagered she could change her stance on surprises. Life had been full of them lately, come to think of it. Thea found ways to make them fun... even if most of them involved their lives being on the line. This setup was a change of pace that Clara could get behind.

"Why not?" Clara conceded and smiled when she took Thea's hand to dance. (It briefly accompanied her memory of the flashing lights, of that club. The way Thea danced and encouraged her to do the same, even if she looked silly. The way that she made everyone else in the room disappear.) She swayed. She wasn't sure what the hell she was doing, but she followed Thea's lead and kept her cool. (Well, for the most part. She was cool if she could ignore the fact that her cheeks and heart were warm.) "If you told me I would've dressed up." She mentioned, considering her disheveled hair and loungewear. It didn't bother her that much, though. Dressing up for a date could be fun... but she knew she didn't have to with Thea, either. There was nothing she needed to hide away under layers of make up or a pretty dress. "...Maybe a Victorian lady with some vampirish undertones?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively. "And glasses, too."

Clara grinned teasingly and twirled, almost surprising herself with her own playfulness. (Thea brought out a side of her that she thought was long dead was all.) "I think it's very impressive how you strategized to set this whole thing up." She circled back to what Thea said before about the demon and his stance on their fun. In a way, that was strategy. "Very attractive." And then she was standing on her toes, kissing her.