RAFAEL SILVA — Via Instagram (2024)

Lucas let's out a small wet laugh.

"That's actually really comforting."

He wipes his face and stands up straight. He turns to face the man.

"I'm Lucas," he says, holding out a hand. "One of the sheriff's. You're Hollis right?"

The mention of the blood trail sends a chill down Hollis' spine, but he tries not to let it show. Instead, he steps a little closer, careful not to get too close, but enough to feel present. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"I don't think...you ever really get to say goodbye. Not in a way that feels right, anyway." His gaze drifts back to the grave. "But...maybe that means they're still here, with you. Somehow."

It wasn't exactly comforting, but, it was the only thing he could think to offer. The same uncertain, fragile connection that he clung to himself.

— Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

Adrien is tense while the woman scrutinizes him. He doesn't fight it. He was pretty direct, but he'd figured she'd either be impressed and let him continue or just shut the door in his face, which he probably deserved.

There's something about her that's so effortless. She's cool, calm, intuitive. Like she knows she's in control of every situation she's in.

Finally, she lets him inside, and he physically relaxes. He feels like he passed some test. The first of many.

He steps in and tries not to stare at the home, looking for things like animal skulls, runic symbols, or just a straight-up demonic effigy. Instead, he faces Raina, keeping his smile on.

"Thank you. I figured being straightforward was better than not."

He considers what he's heard and what he should tell her.

"Mainly, that you make potions and spells and read tarot cards? I haven't heard that anyone, like, hates you, but you definitely scare some people, and others respect you."

Raina blinked once, slowly, as if giving her brain time to catch up with the introduction. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, one hand still resting on the knob, her expression carefully neutral—but there was a flicker of amusement in her dark eyes, a smile tugging just at the corners of her mouth.

“Well,” she said, her voice smooth and warm like the lazy drift of smoke. “That’s not the worse I've been called.”

She took a moment to look him over, reading the nervous energy that bubbled just beneath his grin. New, for sure. He had that slightly bewildered air all the newcomers carried—a strange blend of hope, fear, and not-quite-processed disbelief.

Raina let the silence linger just long enough to see if he’d squirm before finally stepping back from the door and gesturing inside. “You want to come in, or are you planning to ask all your burning witch-related questions from the porch?”

The words were light, teasing, but there was a measured kindness to them, as though she was giving him room to find his footing.

She held his gaze, her smile still faint but present, and added with a touch of playful curiosity, “What exactly did you hear about me, Adrien?”

where: colony house when: Halloween night whom: @rampents Catie

Adrien stumbles out of a bathroom, shaking his hands to finish drying them. He's having way too much fun for what everyone seems to think Oblitus should be.

He's about to head back to the dance floor when he notices someone chilling on the floor, not really paying attention to her surroundings.

Not one to let someone stay alone for too long, Adrien runs then slides on his knees, stopping right in front of her.

"Hey, there, I'm Adrien. Want some company?"

Lucas approaches cautiously, trying not to spook her like she's a deer that could leap into action at any second. His hands up to show he means no ill will.

"You can't really blame us for being cautious now, can you? We don't want you to get hurt. Or worse."

He winces at the memories of bodies. Especially those of newcomers who didn't know better or tried to deny the reality before them.

where : the edge of the forest / town with : open

— RAYS from the afternoon sun shine through the trees , melting away the remaining frost on the yellowing leaves and warming greer's near windburnt cheeks . though a chilly autumn was no irregularity for the detroit native , there was something sinister in the air , something she tries desperately to ignore , that makes the cold air seem to seep into her weary bones , inescapable no matter how many layers she may wear . despite this , her glove - less right hand remains outside of her coat pocket , a nearly finished cigarette held tightly between two pinkened fingers , orange lighter clutched in the palm of her hand . the unease only worsens the longer she stares into the woods , the shadows among the trees looking all the more ominous . she takes a deep inhale , the harshness of the cold air stinging her nose and throat as she does so , refreshing and punishing at the same time . as she exhales , she closes her eyes , cutting herself off from staring into the forest , and the dark , irrational thoughts that seem to cluster in her mind whenever she was near it . footsteps approach , the sound of gravel crunching taking away from the otherwise eerie silence , and successfully pulling the young woman from her reverie . greer's eyes remain closed for a moment longer , this time to contain an eye roll . “ i'm not running off again , you guys don't have to keep threatening to ‘ restrain me ’ . ” forever assuming rather than asking , disinterest and annoyance cloud greer's voice . her eyes open only to fall into a scowl as she turns to look at the one who interrupts her moping . “ what do you want ? ”

Lucas laughs. "God, I'd love some real Tabasco."

He nods at the suggestion.

"I'll run it by Jim, Cam, and Santi later. Nothing's gonna be perfect."

He looks at her, studying her body language.

"When did you last sleep? Do I need to lock you in a cell so you'll take a nap?"

Anastasia forced a half-smile at Lucas’s grimace, the weight of Cameron’s name still lingering between them like a storm cloud that refused to pass. “Yeah, she’s still here,” Anastasia echoed, her voice softer, more resigned. “Lucky might not be the word I’d use, though.”

She folded her arms, glancing at the supplies between them. The mention of Kina sent a flicker of something painful through her chest, but she pushed it down. There wasn’t room for that now—not when so much needed doing.

Lucas’s weak chuckle at the old joke gave her an unexpected sense of warmth, though—a sliver of something familiar amid the chaos. She allowed herself a real smile this time, brief but sincere. “If one ever does show up, I hope it has coffee. Real coffee, not that powdered crap.”

She crouched down next to him, her knees protesting the movement. “We’ll figure out the rations. We always do. Maybe we set up a system—rotate who gets what, make it feel like less of a gamble.” She paused, exhaling slowly. “Not that anyone’s going to love that idea.”

Lucas returns the look and squeeze. Rae looks better than he did at the infirmary. Maybe it's the setting sun, or maybe it's just the relief after finally crying.

He chuckles. "Well, glad to know I rank above corpses as a conversationalist."

They reach the walkway up to Rae's house and they slow their steps as they approach the door. Almost like they both don't want this to end any sooner.

"Will you be okay on your own tonight? I could stay. Sleep on the couch."

“and you said it anyway,” rae half-muttered under his breath. he gave lucas a look, something between exasperation and fondness, as he squeezed his hand. then he focused back on his house in the distance.

“i guess i could use the help,” he relented. “plus it's hard to hold up a conversation with a corpse.” it would also cut the time in half, logistically speaking. he just hated asking for help...and accepting it. he'd been that way since he was a kid, even before losing his parents.

He briefly considers putting her into a headlock just to show how easy it would be to catch her, but he's honestly too tired to put in the effort. And she's right about the rationing. He's probably just using it as an excuse to avoid his personal problems rattling in his head right now.

"By that logic, we all worry too much," he replies. "It's our jobs to worry too much. So the people who can't do our jobs don't have to."

He sees and even feels the edge in her smile.

"This was an unexpected event. By all accounts, they broke the rules we thought were in place."

He leans against a table, crossing his arms to show he's in serious mode now. Not ready for the emotional talk quite yet. At least not until Ana is.

Anastasia lets out a quiet huff, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk. "A nap sounds nice, but you’d have to catch me first." She rolls her neck, feeling the tension stretch and settle, then flicks her gaze to the horizon as if sleep is a luxury meant for someone else.

"I’ll sleep when things stop breaking." She exhales through her nose, the humor slipping just slightly. "Besides, if you lock me up, who’s gonna keep you from rationing those supplies into oblivion?"

Her smile softens, but there’s an edge to it—one Lucas would recognize instantly. "I’m fine, Lu. You worry too much." But they both know that’s not exactly true. Not anymore.

Lucas considers this. He's been in a lot of the woods around town but hasn't come across a tree like that. Of course, that's not at all surprising. Still, it has him thinking.

"Okay," he says, focusing back on Elm. "That's good. Was there anything else?"

He gives her a small smile.

ELM CONSIDERS THE QUESTION FOR A MOMENT BEFORE SHRUGGING . " it's the only thing i remember ." elm wonders if that's enough to make it notable . there's another beat of thought where their head tilts before they're adding a, " there was a moon over it ." their brows furrow a bit . " it was full and ..." a thoughtful pause before elm is making a round gesture with their hands . " the tree was by itself . in a circle, like this ."