After AnimeCon: Raising Tents (Patreon)

    Silver haze hung in Christine’s head like smoke and refused to clear. The scales upon which her internal values balanced were askew but felt like they were teetering back and forth between both directions, which made her feel like she was genuinely going insane. The contrast between rage at everyone else and despair at herself and what she had done was a difference so extreme that trying to maintain coherent thought was giving her a dizzying headache. As she crouched miserably in the dirt of the excavation, it was easy however to determine what was wrong with her.

    For all of the past months, maybe the past several YEARS, I’ve just—psychologically weighed everything in my favor, Christine determined, feeling sick. I do KNOW right from wrong, I do have those moral scales, I just somehow started putting a thumb on one side so that they always, always tilted in my favor. Not, not just a fucking thumb. In the end, I put all of the weight of my being on it.

    She had fucked up.

    She had really, ROYALLY fucked up.

    What was scariest was how easy it was to do. Once she sank further and further into that delusion, there just weren’t any doubts or real self-awareness. Everything was viewed through the lens of her being in the right; always. Always. The whole world, everyone else was wrong, it was always someone else’s—anyone else’s—fault. Whether or not that even made any sense. Without any compunction she had tampered with her own moral compass until it was completely broken, and then after that she had done completely reprehensible things to other people while not feeling even a single iota of guilt or remorse.

    I can’t fix this, anyways, Christine drew her fingernails down her face. It’s over for me. I can’t make up for what I’ve done or make it right. It’s crazy that they even discovered MAGIC BULLSHIT that restored my sanity like this. Or at least mostly.

    Whatever he had done to her had cleaned her clock—a violent silver surge of something she didn’t know how to describe invaded into her and loosened up that internal scale of personal values. Values which had been so completely lopsided that everyone else had seemed like the psychopath. It was as if Brian had used silvery droplets of pure mercury to grease oil on a stuck lever, to fix some defunct needle in a gauge that had always pointed to I’m always right no matter what the actual circumstances were. 

    Worse yet, Christine didn’t quite feel as though she was completely fixed. Her values were still not quite right, the scales weren’t calibrated, and every time the pendulum swung back towards her ego of psychotic narcissism, there was that irresistible pull there in that direction, which wanted to throw everything out of balance once again and simply insist that she was always in the right. Always.

    The silver feeling… it’s not CLEAR like it was before, Christine realized, her thoughts fighting through the fog and confusion. On the blood magic, everything was in this laser-focused clarity. Now, it’s like… it’s like…

    Her ‘magic’ awareness right now was instead like trying to peer through an extremely dusty mirror. Christine could feel the reflection there again, but it was cloudy, it was still choked with a faded dullness that rendered all of the fine details into murky abstracts. At the forefront of all of that strange synesthesia somewhere between imagination and gut instinct, Christine knew that the hunger was gone. The blood hunger, the innate hole deep within the core of her being that would always, always need filled when she was on the other magic path was gone.

    I’m not… SATISFIED either, though, Christine brought shaky fingers to touch her stomach through the filthy sweatshirt. It’s just, that NEED isn’t there. Not like it was before.

    The phantom ache for blood had been something she had associated with the terrible mental clarity and ability to self reflect, so not feeling it now worried her. Because, what if it meant that something wasn’t working right? Whatever magic thing they had tried to do didn’t take? What if the scales tipped her towards Chloe again? Brian kissing her was supposed to instead put her on the ‘charm’ path the other girls were on, but she didn’t feel infatuated or lovestruck or even remotely turned on.

    She felt sick, she felt a growing horror and disbelief welling up within her that made her want to vomit. Christine felt like she’d been watching a baby bird hopping at her feet and chirping and then stomped it to death, not realizing what she had done or why until after the fact, when the terrible deed was already done. There was no way to accept what she had done to the others, how she had treated everyone. As a vengeful psychopath she hadn’t experienced any of these awful feelings, and Christine was terrified that being unable to live with her deeds would force her back into being the kind of girl who was indifferent to all of that. Wasn’t it easier just being Chloe?

    Another spatter of dirt and leaves showered down upon her as Emily continued to idly kick stuff from the edge of the grave in her direction. That didn’t bother her—Christine didn’t think she could blame Emily if the girl slapped her or beat her or clawed her face. She deserved all of that and worse. Or, maybe Christine would fight back? After all, all of this that happened was their fault in the first place, wasn’t it?

    Wait, or was it?

    Christine silently wretched as another wave of revulsion roiled through her with an unpleasant aftertaste of silver oxide. She mostly thought that she deserved any punishment that the others would decide, but then also still a venomous broken part of her raged at them and insisted they were in the wrong, that all of this was their fault.

    Everything that happened was because of THEM.

    “Em-Emily?” Christine croaked out.

    “Fucking what.”

    “I’m not fixed,” Christine explained with urgency. “I, I still feel—I’m still crazy. I’m, it’s not all right. It’s not all right like it’s supposed to be, like it was when I was on the other magic. I feel insane, I feel—I’m not completely fixed.”

    “Are you fucking complaining that we didn’t—” Emily’s furious voice called down.

    “No! No, I mean—” Christine stammered. “I mean, I wanted you to know. You have to know. Know my uh, my mental state, my, as uh, as best as I can assess myself. I am not fixed. S-so, so I want you all to be as, as careful as you can because I’m not in the right mind still yet. Okay? That’s what I wanted to say.”

    “Okay,” Emily grunted back. “Right, got it. Fucking figures. You’ve just got a few shitty silver streaks, you’re not all the way.”

    “Okay,” Chloe sniffled. “Okay. Just—yeah, just so long as you know. So long as someone knows. Be careful with me.”

    “I don’t want you to be with Brian,” Emily muttered. “I just, I don’t want you to be with Brian. Hate hate hate even just the idea of it. You don’t deserve him. I wish they had just fucking listened to me.”

    “I know,” Christine said.

    “Shut the fuck up,” Emily snarled. “No, you don’t know, you don’t have any fucking idea. I already had to watch as he suffered through being in a relationship with you, I fucking saw what you did to him. How y-you, you ate away at him, how my Brian started to lose that special spark. Yeah, he was hurt from what his shitty fucking parents did to him, but—he was so, so Brian before, he had hopes and dreams and bright fucking prospects, he had so much to look forward to! We had so much fucking fun back then, even though we weren’t really together!

    “Every day was this total blast, every day felt like it was the best fucking day of our lives! Watching all of that… dim after he was with you, watching that brightness start to leave his eyes, having to see depression and tiredness and silence start to settle in in its place—Chloe I FUCKING HATE that you did that to him. And, no, I’ll never fucking forgive you.”

    “Yeah,” Christine let out a small sob.

    Her insides felt like they were wrenching themselves into knots, because she agreed. Except, Emily’s words also didn’t make much sense. Why was Christine somehow responsible for all of Brian’s stupid problems? She didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for that pathetic man-child of a—no, again sympathy ebbed through in chemical silver and she shuddered with disgust for herself, feeling bile rise up in her throat. See-sawing back and forth between derangement and despair made her want to scratch and claw the poisonous silver out from her veins, made her want to rip her hair out.

    I need more fucking silver, or I need rid of all of it, Chloe rocked back and forth to relieve the manic tension. Not this IN BETWEEN. Or, I need to just die. Die, die, die, die.

    “He’s back, now,” Emily continued. “My Brian. He’s got his Brian spark back, but, you know what? It took Stephie and Kelly and weird-ass real life actual magic to bring it back to him, to wake him up, to bring him back up from whatever you fucking wrought upon him, a-and I don’t think you understand how, how fucking lucky we were. That all of this crazy bullshit happened to play out this way.”

    Christine’s fingers traveled up into her hair and gathered mussed and tangled locks into her fists as she cried. She needed something to clutch onto, because while she was raging against the shadowy shape of herself in the mirror, there was also still that eerie patch of psychopathic calm. That Chloe part of her, which was probably just waiting for its next chance to fuck everyone and everything over, biding its time. It was maddening being only partway fixed, and moment to moment she wished they would instead just put her out of her misery.

    Silver fog woke her up to being able to isolate and recognize that side of herself, and looking at it, actually seeing it terrified her. Because it was addictive, because having power of others, having zero qualms about freely manipulating everyone around her, taking every advantage, turning every situation towards her favor, and living a life that spared absolutely no thoughts to the consequences of what she was doing or who happened to get hurt along the way—it was EASY.

    It was simple and straightforward, natural, to only ever care about herself, and damn everyone else. Wasn’t it? Some insidious part of her knew that it was mentally the path of least resistance for her, that she could either relax and slip back into it, or spend every waking moment doubting her every reflexive action and holding them suspect. If there was ever going to—

    “How is she?” Brian’s voice sounded from above.

    Christine couldn’t help but flinch back at recognizing it, and her shoulders shrunk in against her neck and she tried to press herself down as low as possible. There was nowhere to hide in this grave she was trapped in, and the flashlight of the phone Emily kept pointed down towards her prevented her from finding any shadow to hide in. Terror, shame, and rage squirmed through her guts and sapped all of the energy from her bones—she did not know how to face him right now.

    “She said she’s not turned all the way,” Emily answered. “That we should be careful. Are you okay? Brian? Steph, you okay? Thought you guys were gonna sit things out for a bit.”

    “Yeah, just—think I’m magically spent. Head’s killing me,” Brian remarked. “I’m okay.”

    “He’s not okay. Okay?” Stephanie’s voice sounded from just beside him. “He’s not okay.”

    “What are we doing with Chloe?” Emily asked, and shadows swung throughout the grave as the light was turned away to instead illuminate their conversation up above. “Battery on Steph’s phone is down to twenty seven percent. We can’t leave her down there if we’re not killing her—and I am not sleeping tonight if she isn’t tied up or chained up or padlocked to something sturdy.”

    “Chloe?” Brian called. “Or—should I call you Christine?”

    “Y—” Christine started with a stammer and had to swallow before attempting to speak again. “You can call me whatever you want. I’m, um. It was always Christine Chloe Weschler. My full name. Just wanted to, uh, to try to reinvent myself. After high school. So I kept introducing myself as Chloe. It doesn’t matter.”

    “Okay,” Brian finally said. “Then, I guess—”

    “I can feel her,” Stephanie reported from Brian’s side. “It’s, she’s not a dead spot that pushes back magic like she was back before, right after the convention. And, she’s not a nothing with no magic like she was just earlier tonight, either. There’s like a smudge around her now, but I can feel her. Feel what she’s feeling. A—ooph, a little bit.”

    “What is she feeling?” Emily demanded.

    “Disgusting,” Stephanie held nothing back. “Wretched. Suicidal. Despair. Angry at herself, and at us. Horrified, she stinks of shame and guilt and she hates herself. It feels disgusting, it’s all awful things, but then they’re also different. Not blending together or uh, or in concert. Her feelings are chunky. I, I, Brian I’m not going to be able to be near her for long, if she’s like this.”

    “She did say she wasn’t cooked the whole way through yet,” Emily muttered from above, turning the light back over a recoiling Christine. “See? She’s only got silver streaks. She needs to be done through silver the whole way, if we’re doing this. Are we doing this?”

    “Chloe?” Brian called. “Can you climb up out of there yourself? Not exactly going to be able to sleep on this, I don’t think. Steph, if you can sense her, you can watch for uh, for violent emotions or outbursts or—”

    “I will,” Stephanie promised.

    “—anything like that,” Brian said. “Let’s sit around the fire and see if we can have a productive conversation this time. I… I didn’t want to hit you, Chloe. I wish I could say I’m sorry that I did, but. I don’t know what to tell you. Don’t know what I was supposed to do, what I could have done differently. I know you didn’t want the charm magic forced on you, I didn’t want that either and I don’t like that it came to that. I’m not comfortable with it at all, but fuck. What was I supposed to do? Chloe?”

    “I don’t know,” Christine couldn’t help but sound anguished. “I don’t know.”

    “Were you really going to go to the Masters and try to snitch us out to them?” Emily pressed.

    “Probably,” Christine covered her face with both hands, refusing to start climbing out. “Just—yes, probably. Once she could, once I could figure out a way to do it without risking myself. Anything to hurt you all. To make you pay.”

    “Hah,” Emily snorted. “Told ya.”

    “Do you still feel that way?” Brian’s voice went cold.

    “I—” Christine opened her mouth.

    “Not completely,” Stephanie answered for her. “Extremely conflicted. She feels both ways. It’s chunky and gross.”

    “So, we feed her the whole fucking jar,” Emily insisted. “I’m so serious. She gets chained back up either way ‘til we’re super sure, but she guzzles cum until Steph can give her a clean mental bill of health. I’m totally not budging on that, Brian.”

    “...Cum?” Christine wasn’t sure she heard that right. The ‘jar’ they keep mentioning is full of…?!

    “Chloe, come on up out of there,” Brian blew out a long sigh. “Come on.”

    * * *

    The tent Kelly helped Rebecca set up turned out to be a huge fucker—the wooden frame with the carved figureheads came together to make two “A” shapes, between which a long pole was fetched from the leaf piles behind the cabin and fixed into place to make a structure. Colored canvas was pulled over the frame and had dangly ties that needed tied into place, which Kelly figured out while Rebecca sorted out the ground cloth and made sure they wouldn’t be tripping on any folds or wrinkles there.

    In no time at all a nordic-looking historical tent was erected in the small clearing just beside her uncle’s shack, the space where presumably a vehicle would park. Kelly had no idea why Rebecca had left her hatchback down by the road instead—in any case, their other tent was an ultra light modern collapsible two person affair which they began to assemble in the dwindling free space between the shack and the campfire area. Although, Kelly discovered that ‘two person tent’ in modern terms meant a waist height super-thin polyester sheet and fiberglass rod enclosure with a six feet by four feet footprint, while the ‘two person tent’ in viking terms had meant a nine feet by seven feet sturdy canvas and wooden frame room that both of them could easily stand up and walk around in.

    “And these are both ‘two person’ tents?” Kelly felt a little incredulous at comparing them side by side like this.

    “Yes, but,” Rebecca smashed a tent stake deep into the ground with a cute grunt. “Back in the middle ages, they could be living in these tents for a good part of a year. Modern tents are really just for overnights or single weekends, so—usually ‘two person’ assumes sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder, and they have to be over-engineered to be able to collapse down into a little carry pouch, and all that.”

    “Right, right,” Kelly watched Rebecca finish up the work. “So—at first I was going to say I can just sleep in one of the cars, like, put a seat down, but. Damn, can I stay in the nice big one with you tonight?”

    “Oh, I’ve just been sleeping outside,” Rebecca assured her. “Since it’s so beautiful out. I have a balm that keeps the ‘squitos away, that’s why I might have smelled a little funny to you. I was going to make sure Brian and you girls all had room to uh, to do whatever you needed to do in the big tent, and then there’s the little one for if you all need more room to sleep comfortably.”

    “You expected we’d all be out here banging?” Kelly was a little surprised. “And, in your nice tent?”

    “You’re all in love,” Rebecca gave her a small shrug. “I understand how it is. I think I won’t be surprised if you do, and I won’t be surprised if you don’t. It’s been a rough night, hah, and everyone deals with this kind of stress in different ways, right?”

    “I doubt Brian’s in the mood,” Kelly said with some regret. “Which means Steph also won’t be, because she soaks up all of that. I could definitely use some relief though, or like at least a little magic infusion. My head’s pounding right now.”

    “Um,” Rebecca stood, brushing off the knees of her linen pants and surveying her handiwork. “How does that all… go? I guess? Can I ask? Do you need to recharge your own magic from Brian, or Brian’s… discharges?”

    “I don’t have to, but it helps a ton,” Kelly said. “When we’re initiated into it we have our own magic, sorta, but doing stuff with him, or even each other—it’s kinda where two plus two can equal more than four. You get more out of it than either of you puts in?”

    “Huh. I like that,” Rebecca remarked. “You become greater than the sum of your parts?”

    “Yeah, I guess,” Kelly said. “So… are you interested?”

    “I am!” Rebecca was candid. “It’s all incredibly interesting! But, also—I’ve been careful. Used my handkerchief—uhh, well actually I guess this one’s a bandanna? To grab the charm out of the lockbox. Haven’t touched it, I’m not um, ‘zapped’ back into things, yet.”

    “Oh, okay,” Kelly said.

    “Not because I don’t want to!” Rebecca explained. “It’s just—now doesn’t seem like it’s the time. Not while all of this with Chloe is going on. And, I do want to talk with Brian about, um, about me being part of this, and see how everyone feels about that before I just—yeah.”

    “Have you ever been with a girl?” Kelly asked.

    “A little!” Rebecca laughed. “Years ago, when I was much younger. It wasn’t—well, I don’t know how to describe how it was. It was very innocent and sweet. Found myself very taken with a sweet shy girl at this one campout, and when we started, um, when we started experimenting a little bit with those feelings, we were a little confused as to what to even do. But, it was nice! We’re still friends. She got married, has a one—no, a two year old, now.” 

    “I’m not a virgin,” Rebecca gave her another shrug, but this one was a bit more awkward. “I, um, I hope that Brian won’t think less of me for that. I’ve been with a few guys. That was always much more straightforward than my, hah, than my time with a girl. I know Emily was a virgin. I just—”

    “Stephanie was, too,” Kelly said. “I don’t know that it’s such a huge deal for Brian, though. I have a past, he knows I have a past. Can’t even really wish that my first time was with Brian, because—I was such a different person, back then. Hurt a lot of people, fucked up a lot of nice things. Know I broke some hearts, and when I was in that part of my life, figuring out what the fuck I was about or who I was trying to be… it’s hard to say I was all that much better than Chloe.”

    “Sometimes, maybe I was worse?” Kelly recalled with a wry smile. “I don’t dwell on it, but I’ve ruined people before. I don’t know that I would wish all that, all that young and dumb Kelly, on Brian or any of you. I was a virgin for a while because I hadn’t had sex yet—I was never pure, or innocent, or anything like that. Had too much hate for everything.”

    “Hmm,” Rebecca seemed to be sizing her up. “We should share a tent, tonight.”

    “Hah,” Kelly shook her head. “Is that your type? Fucked up ‘oh, I can fix them’ cases? But uh, no. No offense—but, no. I’m not shacking up with anyone outside the little polycule or whatever I’m in without discussing it with Steph and Brian and everything.”

    “I didn’t mean that,” Rebecca chuckled. “I mean—sometimes you just seem like you’re bristling. You know? Like you could use a hug, but you don’t know how to ask for hugs anymore. Or even just cuddling—I’ve cuddled with Emily before and it wasn’t sexual or anything. When she’s struggling to deal with everything I can just hold her and it’s not weird.”

    “A likely story,” Kelly smirked. “Well, I won’t be seduced by your wicked charms. Not yet. Let’s see how your talk with Brian goes about your involvement in the uh, in the whatever the fuck this is, first. Yeah?”

    “I want to kiss him,” Rebecca said. “I want to kiss someone. I want to kiss someone before we get all of the magic and charm stuff in there, muddying the waters with what’s going on. I feel like that will help Brian, help everyone a lot. Knowing for sure how much the magic is affecting things.”

    “I get it,” Kelly nodded. “I was down to fuck right from the beginning—before the charm bit me, before the kisses. Brian’s tall and good-looking and he’s in great shape. If he wasn’t so fucking stubborn, or in such a weird fucking mental spot after the breakup there, I maybe could’ve been with him without the charm stuff.”

    “Do you wish things had gone that way, instead?” Rebecca asked.

    “Hell no,” Kelly snorted. “Are you kidding me? Then I couldn’t have Stephanie and Emily too, we wouldn’t have amazeballs fucking out of this world magic orgy sex. I had a threesome years back before, you know? It was fucking disappointing. S’not like you see in the pornos, it’s awkward and tense and either one person is mostly left out and just like, watching, or it’s weird and impossible to sync up a good rhythm to it all with three people. Let alone have everyone on the same page with intimacy and chemistry and all that.

    “With Brian, Steph, and Emily? We’re like, pre-synced in our wavelengths, there’s magic channels or energy or something connecting us mentally, emotionally, spiritually—I can’t even put into words how great the sex is.”

    “Wow,” Rebecca blinked.

    “Yeah, and like, even all that aside—” Kelly turned her attention to where Brian, Stephanie, and Emily were now leading Chloe out of the woods and towards the campfire. 

    “I don’t want for anything,” Kelly tried to explain as best she could. “Not that I’d ever feel dissatisfied with Brian, Brian’s packing meat. I don’t even just mean dick, either—he literally brings the meat of the relationship, he’s committed to you and caring and putting thought into you from the get-go. But then also, Stephanie brings dessert. For both of us, for each of us. She’s so sweet and tasty and I just want to eat her up. We all do. Emily? Well, she’s a snacc. I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with her, because we’re either butting heads and arguing over pointless bullshit, or we’re so in fucking step with each other that it’s surreal and kind of kinky.”

    “You think I’ll fit in, too?” Rebecca sounded more bemused than curious.

    “I do,” Kelly said. “It’s easier to picture you fitting in with us than Chloe, to be honest. No clue how we’re going to square all of… well, all of that.”

    “Yeaaah,” Rebecca drawled. “Sometimes, she sure doesn’t make it easy.”

    Both tents were up, but they hadn’t collected the bedrolls and sleeping bags and handful of pillows from the two vehicles yet. Deciding they could just grab all that stuff right before bed, Kelly and Rebecca ambled back over to the fire, where once again Brian took a seat upon one of the log sections. Stephanie immediately installed herself on his lap and held onto him like an angry cat guarding its food dish, and Emily had her arms crossed and was pacing back and forth behind Brian.

    Chloe stood with hunched shoulders on the other side of the campfire from them as a prisoner awaiting judgment, and so Rebecca and Kelly claimed the remaining two seats. They were all gathered again, but the stormy atmosphere was completely different than it had been for their talk earlier. Exorcising even just some of the crazy out of Chloe made a transformative difference, and Kelly was very interested in how conversation would go now.

    “First things, first,” Kelly began by breaking their silence. “My retarded fingertip lightshow earlier—like I might’ve said before, it has a cost. My head is fucking splitting, and it’s making me super irritable.”

    “You haven’t seemed irritable,” Rebecca quirked her head. “You’ve been very nice to me.”

    “Well yeah, but that takes a ton of conscious effort to not bitch out on everyone when I have a headache,” Kelly grinned. “And, can’t exactly vent shit on you when we all kinda owe you. A lot. So—I know this isn’t the best timing, but if I can, I’d like to top back up on magic and be at my best, before we continue.”

    “I’m, uh, I’m in the same way,” Brian shook his head. “I’m dry, or uhhh. In deficit. Kissing Chloe back there wasn’t like it was with each of you. Tapped out everything I have, and then it took a tiny bit more, I’m real spent.”

    “One way or another, Chloe’s always just a fuckin’ vampire who take take takes,” Emily grumbled. “Of fucking course she’d—”

    “I’m sorry,” Christine murmured.

    “I have magic,” Stephanie volunteered from where she sat upon Brian’s thigh. “I can give. Emily can, too—both of us could, ah, benefit from releasing some. So that everyone is… equalized.”

    “Let’s do that, then,” Kelly suggested. “I mean, if that’s cool. I kinda assumed we were saving the jar for her royal highness, here.”

    The jar in question had been set upon the red camp cooler next to Brian and Stephanie, and at its mention each of them turned their eyes to it.

    “Sooo—” Emily started to say something, but was cut off.

    “I’m giving to Brian,” Stephanie insisted. “I’m going to help him.”

    “Tch,” Emily scowled. “Fine.”

    With a jealous huff, Emily stomped around the firepit with arms still crossed, making her way over to Kelly. They were all obviously in a terrible mood, and although it was hard not to feel slighted by Emily’s strong preference for Brian rather than her, Kelly completely understood. The important thing in her mind was to cool down the extreme negative feelings here, because if they were going to proceed and actually get anything done tonight, they would need clearer heads to prevail.

    “C’mon, in the tent,” Kelly directed Emily one way while turning to address Rebecca. “You’ll keep a close eye on Chloe for us? For a bit?”

    “Sure,” Rebecca held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. “No problem.”

    “Thanks,” Kelly said.

    Following Emily past the little tent and through the flap of the larger A-frame one, Kelly found darkness and privacy and a surprisingly refreshing smell—rather than musty canvas or mildew, the inside of Rebecca’s tents carried a fresh and floral scent. The stewing Latina however seemed like her composure was falling apart the moment she was out of sight from the others. Kelly couldn’t quite make out Emily’s expression, but she was a quick read of the girl’s hostile posture and could guess at all of the murderous things that were prancing through the girl’s head.

    “Hey, Emily,” Kelly took the girl by the shoulders, and kept both hands planted tight there despite an attempt to shrug them off. “Listen to me—need you to put your game face on, here. Brian needs you. We need you. I know you’re pissed. We all are, but after a certain point that stops being okay and starts getting in the way of what we have to do. You know?”

    “I fucking know,” Emily hissed. “I just wish that—”

    “You were using your magic,” Kelly lied. “Probably you weren’t even realizing it. You’re lucky it’s so dark and everyone’s so distracted—I don’t think anyone but me noticed what you were doing.”

    “I was?!” Emily froze up. “What the fuck? I was trying to motherfucking do something, I mean anything, but fucking—I know I can feel it. What happened?! How could you tell, was there—”

    “Emily,” Kelly got her attention again. “Focus. Really focus. I need you to give me a bit of magic, so that I don’t start losing my fucking cool, alright? Then, whatever in you that you’ve got left, Brian needs it. I think he seriously overdid it trying to fix Chloe. Okay?”

    “I—yeah, yeah, okay,” Emily was flustered. “But, what was I doing?”

    Nothing, Kelly didn’t have the heart to tell her. You’re still a long ways from figuring out your power, because it’s a strange one. Sorry, Em. But, I need SOMETHING pivotal to snap you out of the bad headspace you’re locked up in with the Chloe situation. I promise I’ll make it up to you.

    “Kelly?” Emily demanded.

    “I know it’s frustrating, but… I think we should table the stuff with your powers for some other night when all of this bullshit isn’t going on,” Kelly proposed. “So that we can make that time all about you, and give that the attention it deserves. Rebecca was also wanting to bring stuff up about how she fits into all of this—for that we’re also just kind of waiting on getting tonight out of the way. You know?”

    “I—yeah, okay,” Emily said again, sounding frustrated but understanding. “Fine. Whatever. I, uh, I guess you know some special ritual or something for transferring magic from one person to another? From the future?”

    “Uhhh,” It was Kelly’s turn to be a little dumbfounded. “Not… really? I always just assumed it kinda happened whenever we did stuff. Because of the charm bullshit.”

    “Are you fucking kidding me?” Emily snorted. “So, what, I’m just s’posed to make out with you, and we hope magic transfers across?”

    “I don’t fucking know Em, I can’t think,” Kelly swatted her friend. “I did the magic finger-guns thing earlier, and my head’s fucking killing me. Alright?”

    “Whatever,” Emily said. “So, we just kiss.”

    “I guess?” Kelly said. “We just kiss. But, I think… you have to kiss me like you mean it.”

( Previous: Darkest Night | After AnimeCon | Next: Campfire Conversation )