NTWF Mafia II: The Idyllic Village of Wafflenet

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

Well, that escalated quickly. The scream Fluffle heard was nothing compared to the screeching of a demon in pain. It was...not as satisfying as it was agonizing, even for Fluffle--whose shivers didn't come from empathy this time. Diana was LOUD when she needed to be.

Something had to be going on in there. Mick should have left the building but he sank back into Nets, No Waffles. The townspeople were still in trouble, and not the happy, mischievous kind. Fluffle leapt toward Nets, No Waffles, wishing she still had her rockets.

Jumping in through the barricade, Fluffle saw that there was a lot to take in. The man who had everyone cuffed together was still stirring, Tanya was taking a nap...Fluffle hoped, although she wasn't sure how anybody could sleep through that, Osilon was hovering around Inspector Jenkins, someone she hadn't seen. He didn't care much for her muffins.

Diana had floated out of the building, a stream of dark pink/lightish red smoke trailing from her afflicted shoulder. Fluffle had gotten her. The smoke hovered in the air as though it was liquid, hazy and opaque. The living would hate it as much as Fluffle did--she wondered if her sheepish ancestors giving her a good sense of smell was an advantage after all. Did she say something about the last mafioso? Fluffle had an idea of who it was, but she thought that it wasn't worth sacrificing everyone to that smoke. She would deal with that person as well as the cat meowfia...eventually. Fluffle solidified a hoof, then slid open a window, hoping it would air the place out a little. She put her shoulder to the barricade, trying to push it out of the way...and after a few seconds, fell through it, her ghostly particles rushing to her forehead once again just before it smacked the ground. Ouch.

Rubbing her head and looking up, Fluffle saw him. Mafia or not, he tried, and recklessly at that, to save the town he'd once aimed to destroy. He struggled to rise once more, tail drooping and...sparking? Fluffle quietly cantered to him and, more gently this time, placed him onto her back.

She'd rented out a room in her fluff before, but she wouldn't charge him. With that, Fluffle concentrated on pushing with her hooves at the wooden boards, trying to knock them over. She felt a pang at undoing Mick's work, and turned to look at him. He didn't seem to mind too much. Or was he too badly hurt to recognize what she was doing, exactly? Fluffle never saw him that close before and yet her face did not darken as it did before. His neck appeared to be burned, with lots of ridges along it. It probably wasn't the work of Diana but it was something.

Fluffle stuck out her tongue, about to say something in her first language, but thought better of it and let it contact the rough, translucent skin of his neck, just below his ear. Her face must have had a delayed reaction, for it flushed to a deep navy blue as she whirled around and continued breaking down the barricade like she was supposed to be doing in the first place.

"Stop!" She hear a voice say. Fluffle turned to see the townspeople and even the ghosts stare at her as though she had gone completely mad. Fluffle pointed to the smoke. The people blinked. Perhaps it wasn't toxic after all. Fluffle hid her face, more than mortified at that and the fact that everyone saw her lick someone, something no one had ever seen her do. Fluffle began replacing the boards, intent on staying quiet and out of sight as much as possible.

[Avery]

Round: Seven
Round Name: As a violent battle blazes...

The standoff stretched into the night.

Err Bear, who had blinked awake a few hours before, was at least not attempting to resist or escape, on account of the fact that he had quite a nasty knot on his head, and his mind was cloudy and confused. A few times he asked, in a very dazed voice, what was going on, but was easily shushed into complacency (the fact that the townspeople had all gleaned sharp fish hooks and other such weaponry from about the shop and were holding them-- stroking them like puppies-- probably helped on this front).

In any case, evening lapsed into the midnight hours, and still the barricade situation dragged. The lawmen, some of whom had been mysteriously killed by a very sociopathic revenant, attempted negotiations with resounding little success. They tried kicking in the door again, but failed miserably. As a full moon gleamed overhead, they conferred amongst themselves and ultimately decided that the best course of action would be to simply wait. After all, the brutes were in a fishing shop, not a grocery store. There couldn't be much food there-- and chances were, it was crowded, hot, and tense inside. It was inevitable, the lawmen decided, that one of the criminals would get antsy and hungry eventually and force their way out; and once they did, the lawmen could burst in.

Meanwhile, inside the shop, the townspeople were weary-- but not of the standoff. Rather, they were an exhausted weary, a dear-lord-I-must-sleep weary. After all, it had been merely the night before that they'd been trapped in the attic of Waffles, No Nets, waiting out the flood, and the slumber they'd gotten then had been shallow and fleeting. It's not that any of the townspeople now wanted to nod off; but as the standoff progressed in a sleepy standstill, some of them couldn't help it.

Especially after, in an effort to make the inside of the fishing shop even more uncomfortable, the lawmen cut the lights, leaving the interior of the store pitch black and oh so ripe for sleeping.

A couple of the citizens volunteered to stay up as guards, planting themselves in the far corner of the shop, their backs to the townspeople. One of them had found a deck of cards underneath Nets, No Waffles' cash register, and they started up a game of gin rummy. Didn't even notice as one particular person from amidst the crowd feigned sleep, waiting for the rest of the town to nod off.

Once everyone else was soundly slumbering, and the guards played obliviously in their corner, the person sat up. Inwardly cursed at the fact that, in the turmoil out in the town centre, they'd been separated from their precious killing weapons. Oh well. A small fishing knife they'd covertly purloined from one of the shelves inside Nets, No Waffles would make do. Quiet as a wraith, they crawled over to the person sleeping nearest to them. Glanced into their face. It was Sparky, snoring up a freight train. The last mafia member stared into his face and frowned. No. He was too risky; if he woke up, he was a proven fighter, and all on their own now, the mafioso couldn't take that sort of chance.

They crawled over to the next nearest person.

Dove.

She was curled up in a little ball and whimpering in her sleep. Magical girl indeed, thought the mafioso glibly. Her friend, Brutus, snoozed at her side, but when the mafioso gently poked him, he didn't so much as grumble in his sleep. Big men men sure slept like the dead, thought the mafioso.

The mafioso slit his throat. He didn't even wake up, only let out the softest of wet gurgles. The mafioso used Brutus's shirt to wipe the blood off their blade, then turned their attention to Dove.

"I never did like your costumes," they murmured sweetly. Dove blinked awake-- getting a glimpse of her killer just as the knife blade was plunged into her heart.

After murdering Brutus and Dove, the last mafioso casually dropped the knife and scooted back over to their sleeping spot. So deft at killing by now, they had sunk the knife expertly, in an instantly fatal way, and yet still not gotten a drop of blood on them. Amused, the mafioso realised that next to them, Sparky had managed to roll into the puddle of blood that was presently pooling beneath and around Dove. Hah, if anyone would be a suspect, it would be him.

The mafioso smiled to themselves, then slept.

**

When the bodies were discovered shortly before dawn, pandemonium broke loose. The townspeople screamed at the alleged guards, and the alleged guards screamed at the townspeople. Even Err Bear started screaming, although his yelling was more along the lines of "My memory has finally come back to me, I remember what you crazy louts did, let me out of here!"

In any case, the panicked shouting continued for quite some time, until finally Sparky, still spattered in Dove's blood, called out: "Enough! We sit here and squabble, and it is pointless. We holed up inside here to stay safe from the lawmen; but clearly we are not safe. So I say: no more! No more sitting by as sitting ducks! If the last mafioso is just going to kill us anyway as we hole up inside here, why give them the pleasure? No! Instead, I say we go out. We fight those intruders who say they are here in the name of justice, yet who ignored our town's pleas for help as the bodies piled up, didn't so much as care to send a coroner to take the corpses away, and yet balked and chained us when they discovered us trying to perserve our friends and neighbors in a freezer instead of letting them rot! Instead of holing up like cowards, let's fight. And who knows, maybe the last mafioso will fall along with the lawmen!"

Sparky's impassioned speech instilled the townspeople with a sudden sense of urgency, the will to fight. And so, armed with various makeshift weapons from across Goldie Fisher's store, they unbarricaded the door. Unlocked it. Opened it up to the morning light, and surged out to battle for their town!

Dove Byrd was an innocent townsperson.

And now the rest of the town must fight against the lawmen, in a final blazing battle! Good luck, little town!

[Terra]

Blaze was awakened by a panicked shout.

It was still dark; Blaze reached for her backpack and felt it, eventually finding the pocket where she’d stashed her flashlight and turning it on. She quickly pointed her flashlight toward the source of the shout -

And the beam illuminated the blood-stained body of one Dove Byrd.

And next to her was another townsperson, who Blaze was vaguely aware was a friend of Dove’s - who was also bloodstained and whose throat was slit -

And on the other side was the farmer, Sparky, covered in blood -

Who immediately jerked awake, sat up, and yelled in surprise as he scrambled away from the bodies.

Well, at least three people weren’t dead, Blaze thought dryly.

Still -

Dove, and her friend, were dead.

Killed in the middle of the night, and nobody had noticed.

How could they let that happen?

“WAKE UP,” she yelled. “DOVE - AND SOMEONE ELSE, I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME - ARE DEAD. THE MAFIA IS AMONG US!”

And Annabel let out an earsplitting scream, apparently having just seen the bodies.

Slow on the uptake, as always, thought Blaze, throwing a derisive look in her direction. But when she saw Annabel’s expression - and remembered how thoroughly she’d fallen apart the night before - she couldn’t help feeling a bit...sorry for her? Or something.

It was weird, anyway.

* * *

Once everyone was awake, panic ensued until Sparky cut them off with an impassioned speech.

It was not nearly as effective as Rocky’s had been, for Blaze, at least - though that could largely have been owing to the change in her state of mind since then.

But still. He was right; it was clear that they couldn’t stay in this barricaded shop any longer. And with the law enforcement officials waiting outside for them...

Well, it didn’t seem that there was any choice but to fight, was there.

Blaze mentally kicked herself for not bringing a better weapon. But still, at least she had her survival knife, which she pulled out of a pocket in her backpack. She wasn’t used to using this knife for fighting, but it’d have to do. At least it’d be better than the makeshift weaponry in this fishing shop.

(But what she wouldn’t have given for a good hunting rifle, right at that moment...)

She began to help clear away the stuff barricading the door. She was carrying away a large plank of wood when -

“Claribel?”

Annabel was standing there, holding a fishing rod with several hooks secured to the end. It looked like it could poke you up badly if you got stuck in it, but otherwise was an ineffective weapon.

“You SURE you can’t find something better than that?” said Blaze, eyeing it skeptically.

“This is a fishing shop, not a hunting shop,” said Annabel, pouting slightly. “There aren’t gonna be a whole lot of hunting weapons in here.”

Blaze rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess we’ll have to DEAL WITH IT.” She glanced toward the door, thinking of the law enforcement officials who were probably armed with, like, guns and stuff. “God, we’re screwed.”

“Don’t say that,” said Annabel desperately. “We’ll make it out of this alive, won’t we?”

Blaze stared at Annabel. What had changed since the night before?

“I -” The truth was, Blaze wasn’t at all sure what the results would be. With a mafioso in their midst and the lawmen waiting outside...

She swallowed. She had to put her doubts aside. They wouldn’t help them get through this.

“Of course,” said Blaze, trying to smile encouragingly. “We’ll be okay. Just stay behind me. We’ll try and get out there as fast as possible.”

Annabel nodded mutely, taking Blaze’s hand and squeezing it. It was an oddly nice gesture; Blaze still wasn’t sure how to feel about this abrupt change in their relations. It was the first time they’d been remotely civil in years - but then, these weren’t exactly normal circumstances.

She looked at Primrose. “You ready?”

Primrose looked at Blaze in what she interpreted as an affirmative response.

The barricade was nearly cleared away. Soon their shelter would be gone completely - soon they’d be forced to escape from that shop.

Blaze took a deep breath. “Well, I guess this is it...”

* * *

As the townspeople were removing the barricade from inside the shop, Chrysanthemum and the wolf pack were lurking outside the town square, waiting for their moment to attack.

And as the lawmen and the townspeople began to fight, the wolves charged.

[Avery]

Britknee had a dream that she was drowning in something sticky, thick, and slightly warm. It was a totes scary dream, and like, she awoke gasping for breath… only to discover that while she was not in fact drowning, the sticky, thick, warm thing was like, totes not a dream!

She’d fallen asleep the previous night with Chet Flash on her one side and on her other, Dove Byrd. It only took one glance at Dove for Britknee to know that the chick was like, so totes dead!

And even worse, Britknee’s designer clothes were now soaked in BLOOD! AHHH! It would never come out, omg, if Dove wasn’t dead Britknee would like, so totes be suing her the damage!!! Tears pricked at Britknee’s eyes. Gawsh, when would the carnage end? First, the maker of delicious waffles felled. Then his substitute killed as well. And now her clothes were ruined.

Yelly was yelling for everyone to wake up, and for once Britknee didn’t mind the yelling because like, at least if more people were awake then the murderer wouldn’t strike again. From her handbag, Snuggles yipped, and Britknee patted him on the head.

“It’s ok, bubbykins!” she baby talked. “Momma will not let you die!”

Then like, Sparky rallied the town to go and fight! And like, Britknee so totes wasn’t on board but everyone else was so she didn’t seem to have much of a choice other than to join in, ‘cos if she didn’t, the dumb law people would probably storm in and arrest her. Or the town would hang her under the mistaken belief that she was mafia. Either way, it was like, fight or die. Ugh!

But what to arm herself with? Hm. Britknee looked around. Like, the idiots, in their impassioned frenzy, had already pilfered most of the suitable weapons. The only things left were stupid and not very good!! Except… on the floor… next to Dove and Brutus’s bodies… was…

… a knife. With blood on its blade still.

Britknee knew it was prob totes awful to take the murder weapon for her own use but like, whatevs! A knife was a knife! Gingerly, she picked it up and poked at the dried blood on the blade. Then, she joined the town in storming out the door to fight the lawmen.

[Tiger]

((This monstrosity of a post has been brought to you by Tiger and Cassie! *imaginary crowd goes insane with cheering*))

//When we last left our heroes hero and not-so-hero:

Mick felt a rush of gratitude when Fluffle put him on her back – he didn’t have to worry about sinking through her like he had to worry about phasing through the floor. A slight draft was pulling some of the smoke out of the building, and Mick tried to concentrate on getting the worst of the smoke out of his…lungs? He wasn’t even sure he had lungs, or the concepts of lungs - not surprisingly, his efforts to clear them weren’t working very well.

His head was starting to spin. Mick suspected that actually passing out wasn’t an option, if not for ghosts in general, than for ghosts in purgatory. It was too bad, because being unconscious sounded pretty good right now. He could just imagine Meta yelling at him for wanting to escape instead of taking this as part of his punishment or redemption or whatever this was all leading to…if it was going anywhere at all. He’d broken the earpiece, and Metastophelous had made no other efforts to contact him. Maybe it hadn’t been flying through Diana that had destroyed the gadget.

Something touched Mick’s neck and jarred him a little out of his daze; he heard something wooden crack, and forced opened one burning eye. Fluffle was tearing at the barricade…Mick was more confused than offended, until he felt the draft from the window again and realized what Fluffle was doing. He gave her fur what he meant to be a reassuring squeeze as he closed his eyes again – for someone who had no more stake in this town than being a citizen, Fluffle was doing an awful lot of the work.

But…wait…the barricade’s keeping people out…

Someone shouted ”Stop!”; Mick looked back at the crowd. The smoke didn’t seem to be bothering them, strangely. Maybe the window Fluffle had opened got enough of it out. Maybe Mick had just gotten too big a face-full, or was especially susceptible thanks to purgatory or having run through the revenant a few times first.

Oddly convenient, but Mick wasn’t about to complain. He waited for Fluffle to mostly finish with the barricade, and then said quietly, “Fluff, the smoke…” He grimaced and shook with a cough that refused to come out of his chest. “I think we need t’get out of here.”


Fluffle raised both her already floating eyebrows in alarm. Her fluff was absorbing heat, something it only did while she was living. Fluffle searched for something to cool the fellow down with and found the container of ghoul water, still partially filled. She stuffed it into her fluff (close to her belly, so its corners wouldn't poke her tenant!) and glanced at the townspeople before shooting up to the roof. The people seemed very tired, as though they hadn't had a decent sleep in days. Fluffle hadn't either, but it wasn't required for her to sleep. She certainly didn't feel tired. The pony decided she'd watch over them that night, as she landed on the roof. She took the container out of her fluff and circled approximately 23 times before laying down on one corner of the roof.

At night, there was usually a lot to look at as the street lights turned on. Since the power was cut, there would be no visible sign of the cows sleeping, or the lights going out in the houses one by one. There were only stars. Stars looked a lot like sprinkles on chocolate icing. The moon was obscured by a dollop of grey cloud, which hindered Fluffle's vision. Nonetheless, she continued to watch, straining to see if anyone tried to break into Nets, No Waffles.

Failing to see anything but darkness, Fluffle blew her lips in a horsy sigh. She had been selfish for much too long, thinking only about her business. Now, with Mick in tow and the fate of Nets, No Waffles in her hooves (not really), Fluffle felt...happy, filled with a sense of responsibility. Wait. Happy? In the midst of the murders? And poor Mick, who was damaged all over?

Mick! Fluffle had nearly forgotten that he was actually ON her back! She could have sworn at one point that he squeezed a handful of her fur. Fluffle turned her head to see his eyes closed, his entire body radiating some sort of steam, his earpiece askew, and his tail completely limp. She tilted her front down even more so that Mick was near the water. It shouldn't be poisonous to someone who wasn't a demon, Fluffle reasoned. She nickered quietly, then went back to staring over the roof's edge.

---------

To say it hadn’t been a fun night for Mick was an understatement. It had been full instead of pain and disorientation, bizarre thoughts, and visions that walked the line between dreams and hallucinations. Most of them had been heat-themed. God, the heat…he felt like he was burning from the inside out. The ghost water helped a little, but the only real comfort Mick had was Fluffle’s presence, and being on her back instead of alone on the roof…or more likely, a literal six feet under Nets, No Waffles.

Why the pony was sticking with Mick was a mystery. If the situation had been reversed, Mick knew dealing with everything they’d done today would be strong temptation for leaving. Then again…Fluffle was actually brave.

The worst of it passed by midnight, and slowly but surely Mick’s thoughts turned to fretting. Because if there was one thing he was good at besides being completely spineless and decorating waffles, it was worrying about things.

Problem number one – Diana. He’d been wrong to be relieved when the revenant left. They were back where they started, except worse, because Diana knew Mick phasing through her was not a good thing. At least she hadn’t seen the full cost of the battle on Mick, or she was probably going to use the phasing to her advantage.

Problem two – The fourth mafia member was probably still in Nets, No Waffles, and Mick’s memory showed no signs of miraculous recovery.

Problem three – He needed to get back in touch with Metastophelous. The idea of hearing that demonic voice again made him almost as sick as Diana’s poison, but Meta was still the most knowledgeable…erm, creature, Mick knew. And they needed someone to tell them how to fight revenants.

Problem four – Where was Don Dan’s ghost?

Problem fi-

A scream rang out from the building below. Mick shot upright, feeling rather like blood had rushed to his head without the associated physical feelings. Mick let go of Fluffle’s fur and hovered toward the roof. He paused for a moment, meeting the pony’s eyes and trying to absorb some courage. He still didn’t feel very brave as he dropped through the tiles.

The smoke was gone, but the room was still red – but it was red with blood now, red with the townspeople’s frenzy. The blood pooled around Dove and Brutus. Mick closed his eyes, feeling the complete absence of a racing heart. It wasn’t over.

Fluffle tried her best to hold him back, she really did try. But no, he slipped out of her fluffy grasp despite his sickly condition and dived through the roof to see what was going on. Mick had guts, Fluffle thought, and if jumping through a malevolent revenant and racing to a scream did not prove that, Fluffle didn't know what did. She decided to stop being an ordinary citizen for once and followed him down through the roof.

“What do we do?” Mick whispered.

Fluffle thought. She trembled upon seeing Dove and Brutus together, their blood mixing in a sick harmony. Dove might not be able to help her now, but Penny's scarf got pushed down on Fluffle's list of priorities long ago. She thought of Diana, the threat that had left for now. Diana didn't seem to have any trouble finding what she needed in books. Perhaps they could try the same! The Wafflenet Library had an entire section that was restricted, and Fluffle had ventured there once or twice when she was hungry. Of course, hiccuping minor spirits was a common side effect of eating books from that section. Fluffle's essence became knotted slightly below the center of all four of her hooves in recollection.

The pony cleared her throat and opened her mouth to direct Mick onto her back and towards the library, where only two days ago Diana lamented over the potential loss of the archives.

She cursed mentally at her inability to speak when she wanted to. Her face darkened as her lips turned up sheepishly at the corners. Fluffle pointed in the direction of the library, then scooped him up onto her back once more. There was no way he could fly like this.

Mick was startled, but didn’t resist Fluffle pulling him onto her back. He wasn’t certain where the pony had pointed, but if she had an idea, Mick was game to try it. If only he could fly on his own…more or less forcing Fluffle to carry him seemed terribly unfair. Although, maybe it was better to conserve his strength and maximize their speed. If they ran into Diana again, and Mick had to phase through her…

The sound of yelling faded behind them, but Mick could hear the echoes in his head. He tightened his fingers in Fluffle’s fur – this time, they couldn’t fail.

[Stal]

There was a ghost that no one had bothered to notice. In fact, he hadn't even noticed he was a ghost yet. The day after his death, he just got up off the ground, confused, but went about his business again like normal. His new state didn't even register to him.

He had been around for the past several days, and kept trying to talk to everyone as they went about their crazy business and rushing around and shouting. He didn't even try to understand what that was all about. Some crazy local festival perhaps.

And then ghosts had started popping up. Salesman Stal tried not to discriminate, but the ghosts did make him feel a little creeped out. Still, maybe he could sell something to them.

Salesman Stal sighed. He felt like he was up against a brick wall in this town. He would move on soon to another town, surely, but maybe there was still time to salvage something here.

He noticed a large group of people rushing at each other and charging. What a crazy town, he thought. But oh well. May as well try.

"Hello? Anyone? Does anyone want to buy some Stallary Duff dolls? They make great holiday presents! Anyone?"

[Robyn]

(ROBYN & TERRA COLLAB EVERYONE HOLD ON TO YOUR HATS IT'S ABOUT TO GET AWESOME IN HERE)

Running. She'd been running. Shadowy figures with gaping mouths lurching out of hallways, heart pumping fast, silent screaming, stop stop don't touch me get away get off let me go STOP PLEASE SOMEONE HELP Stop IT NO--

Dove jerked awake in terror just in time to see a too-close face and feel her heart finally explode from terror, painful and warm and seeping. There was a sharp sounding shing! as the knife was extricated from her body, and it seemed to take all of the breath out of her in one go, the killer perched in a demure kneel and watching. Dove's lips trembled with the shock. She craned her neck over to see Brutus, blue-lipped and throat cut. Wordless tears leaked over the bridge of her nose and down, pooling with their swirling blood. It was over.

That's the worst part about all of this, Dove decided as pain slowly pushed the life out of her, the worst part is that I thought I actually stood a chance. I'm not magical. I'm not special. What did I even get to stand for?

This was the last thought that Dove ever had alive. The dark, cruel world she knew then ebbed away into oblivion, and her unconscious soul took flight from the corpse.

* * * *

A shining pinnacle of white light quickly overtook her vision. Sparkles danced around her peripherals, and a familiar silhouette was coming into focus in the center of this spectacle (much like a shadow on Who's That Pokemon?). Was that... No. There was no way.

There was no way that Penny's lizard had somehow found his way into the Great Beyond, but here he was, staring bug-eyed in two different directions as his floating form accosted Dove's awareness. She knew that she was dead and probably on her way to becoming a ghost and therefore her suspension of disbelief should be at an all-time high by now, but seriously? The iguana? Dove didn't even think he'd died; she assumed that Penny would have found a suitable heir for the poor creature.

Before she could delve much more into that, however, it spoke in a deep, male voice that commanded the utmost respect.

"Puella Paloma Columbidae," he boomed. Dove gulped. She supposed he was here to rub that embarrassment in her face as judgement for some past transgressions. Better to get it out of the way now than later, she guessed, then she'd have all of eternity to be humiliated and--

"Finally, you have come home."

Well, she...hadn't been expecting that. Dove glanced up at the beast, curious.

"In your mortal days, you perhaps knew me as Maurice, the beloved "cat" of Penny Mahb. As ludicrous as her claims may have been, Penny was pure of heart, and her words were at least half-correct. You see, I am, in fact, a cat. I have just been cursed to dwell in this hideous reptillian form until I bestow the rightful magical girl powers unto their true heirs."

Dove's face instantly lit up. Oh my god. This was it. IT WAS HAPPENING. SHE KNEW IT SHE KNEW IT SHE KNEW IT--

"And, you, Dove Byrd...you......."

Their surroundings rippled and dissolved, and suddenly Dove was standing in what seemed to be a study of some kind. In Maurice's place appeared a teenage girl with long dark hair in what appeared to be a blue prom dress, sitting on a desk atop scattered papers, next to a beaten-up typewriter.

"You...are really, REALLY dumb," said the girl, her lip curling into a smirk. "You fell for that? Even your dear cousin would've seen right through that little charade."

"W--what?"

"I've been watching what's been going on in your little town," she continued, as she got up from the desk and began to advance toward Dove. "It's been making me a little nostalgic. I have to admit I'm jealous of that Diana woman, though. What I wouldn't have given to be able to kill after my death." She frowned slightly. "Though perhaps it's for the better that I had that limit. That's what my therapist would probably say, anyway.

"Congratulations on making it longer than your cousin, by the way," she said. "I'm surprised you managed to survive this long. Though I suppose you did die in the end...I guess that's something that runs in the family."

The girl ran a finger along Dove's cheek. "You really do resemble her a lot, at least superficially. I wonder how she'll feel when she sees you in the afterlife..."

Dove inwardly riled at the touch. It was cold, yet eerily solid, and her nails felt sharp as she tapered off.

"Wh--who are you?" Dove choked out.

"Why, I haven't introduced myself, have I?" said the girl, with a smile. "How rude of me. My name's Terra. I guess you could say I'm a...very close acquaintance of Robyn's."

Terra. Well, now there was a face to the name, wasn't there? From Robyn's letters, Dove had always imagined her cousin's killer as a cruel, wretched beast of a girl with a visage to match, but this wasn't at all what she had expected. She was, by all accounts, normal. Pretty, even. But there was an ice behind those eyes. Dove took a few steps back-- or, more accurately, stumble-floated away from Terra, still unused to her new mode of transport-- and steeled herself.

"Yes, I've heard all about you, Terra-san," Dove spat. "Nothing good, though. What are you doing here? Where's my imoto-chan?"

Terra couldn't have eye-rolled harder. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'can't be /serious/' before gliding towards the door of the study and swinging it open, where a familiar-looking town greeted them both.

"Your cousin has been exceedingly busy as of late," Terra said, shooting the words out as if they were sour in her mouth, "but I wanted to be the first to give her the good news."

Dove blanched. All those times Robyn had told her to be careful and protect herself, wasted. She'd failed her. It was too shameful to bear.

"No. You can't tell her I'm dead; she'll be crushed."

"Oh, can't I?" Terra smirked again, and with a flick of her ghostly tail, she was off.

"Wait! TERRA-SAN, DON'T!"

With no other options in mind, Dove shakily chased after her. Noooooot a great start to the afterlife.

[Lizica]

To be honest, Tracy had slept better on the roof of her shop. At least then, even with nightmares of falling, she had been able to wake up and look out into the open at clouds and pinpricks of stars. But here, in the dank crowdedness of Nets, No Waffles, she had nightmares of crashing while lying already on the floor, and when she opened her eyes at the sound of screams, she only saw the ceiling, dark and cluttered with lobster traps and fishing nets.

Dove and her friend were so still. They were bedecked in red. Their last costume change. Why..?

Screaming and panic ensued. Sparky delivered a speech. Blaze's flashlight flickered around the tackle shop. But it was so dark. The townspeople moved to tear down the barricade. And Tracy wished she had some of the lamps from her shop. It was so dark.

Tracy took off her shiny ballcap, her hair sticking to it as it was lifted, and stared at the hat, for a long time.

She spread it against the tank of minnows.

And refolded it.

It was now an ancient helmet. Her radio was flickering between static and a station playing piano music.

She put her tin foil hat back on. Pocketed the radio. Hefted her shovel, still covered in dirt.

"Maybe," she said, to no one in particular as the barricade was coming down, "if Wafflenet is supposed to be like Eridanus..."

"...What are you going on about now?" Jenkins murmured. The old detective had nothing but fish hooks with which to defend himself, and his sunglasses continually slid down his nose from how much he was sweating and shaking.

Tracy continued to stare at the crumbling barricade.

"Kay mentioned the constellation Eridanus, which in mythology...is the path that Phaeton left while driving the sun across the sky, before he was killed... If Wafflenet is supposed to be like Eridanus...we're on a path towards destruction, because no one knew how to hold the reins, and we were reckless."

But then the heavy iron shelf, the last of the barricade, was torn aside; the door was unlocked and thrown open.

Her fellow townspeople rushed out upon the bureaucrats, and Tracy followed. Warm morning sunlight streamed across her face, and a cool, refreshing breeze swept past her and into Nets, No Waffles.

She looked out and opened her eyes wide in the light.

The sky was clear.

So clear.

Clearer than it had been for days. A clear, crystalline blue replaced the dark, musty red tones still lingering at the horizon. Sunlight reflected off the pale remains of buildings, illuminating the town square in a flurry of motion and stillness. The roof of the Shipshape Shop glowed.

Oh. This was home. And the sky was so clear, so bright.

A lawman lunged at her, and Tracy swung her shovel at him.

"To us, Wafflenet is--is not a footnote!" she cried. "Because even if--even if--we're going to die like Phaeton--" (knocking out a bureaucrat trying to knife Sparky) "--we'll burn a mark in the sky--" (ducking a thrown blade) "--with stars in the dark of night--from where--" (shoveling Monica in the face) "--from where--s-sometimes--every once in a while--when it mattered--small lights shone through--" (smacking a lawman who kicked a wolf) "--and we'll remember it, for everyone we've lost, even if no one else in the whole world does." (thwacking a woman trying to break Mr. Johnson's fishing pole) "We have--have had vegetable state fairs--and weddings--and graduations--" (hitting someone near Courtknee) "--and we have--weathered a flood, running across rooftops with aid from friends we lost--and we have--" (fending off a sword-wielding bureaucrat) "--we have--held each other at the brink of despair--" (getting back up) "--and we have shared the little food resources we had left--" (was that the salesman?) "--and we have--by trying--and failing--and still trying--saved this town." (kicking a guy pointing a gun at Blaze) "--And--and if you out-of-towner goons and--and traitors think you can tear us down--" (backing Dr. Birch) "--you've got another thing coming."

She slammed a bureaucrat aiming a rifle at Jenkins. "Aliens or NOT."

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

Fluffle slowed her walk to a delicate trot. The archives loomed above her and her partner as if to say, "Back to snack on some more of my insides? You parasite." She gulped and set a noiseless hoof inside the tiled floor, covered in a thick layer of mud, branches and assorted debris. She spotted the new receptionist, Aiden Montgomery, mopping and scrubbing the caked floor, cursing his ailing back. Fluffle didn't want to face anyone as grumpy and crotchety as he was. She could not be seen.

Fluffle, grimacing at the thought of what her rider would feel, jumped hard and sank into the tiled floor, a tiny patch of fluff sticking out like a tuft of grass. She tip-hoofed very carefully behind him, staring at him, watching for any sudden movements. But nope, he was just scrubbing and swearing, swearing and scrubbing.

She popped out of the ground and swiveled her head to check on her rider. Had he fallen asleep? It seemed so. Fluffle closed her eyes and her eyebrows creased upward in the middle. She really hoped he didn't mind this. The revenant might return to the archives which she held close to her nonexistent heart. Fluffle stuffed her fur over Mick's slightly steaming body, effectively hiding him beneath it. She began to search the shelves for anything with "ghost", "revenant", or "spirit" in the name. Boy, she would kill for a Google search.

A History of Netwaffle, Back From the Dead, and THE BEST MUFFINS EVER told her nothing she already didn't know, except that Netwaffle was like Wafflenet only...backwards.

The section just ahead of her, with locks and chains in front of an iron door, might hold what Mick and Fluffle needed. The restricted section. Fluffle had gone in there loads of times before--old books had a vintage, oaky flavor to them, not unlike a rare bottle of wine. But now?...Fluffle steeled her nerves and barreled through the door, hoping she didn't trigger an alarm this time.

Nothing. The dimly lit rows of bookshelves made Fluffle wish she was back in her apartment. She didn't know why she was so afraid this time. With her knees stiff and shaking with a sense of foreboding, the pony scoured the shelves. There were a lot more books about ghosts and spirits here, but Fluffle, on previous occasions had stuck to the happier stories and tales of friendly ghosts in history. The books she needed might not be as hospitable to their readers.

Fluffle reached behind her and petted the lump of hair sticking out of her fluff, hoping to absorb through her hoof some of his courage, just like she absorbed Diana's aura of misfortune from her victims.

No such luck. Fluffle pored through the covers, taking a step when she had read all the titles in her field of vision. The Purple Spirit of Pride looked interesting, but it wasn't necessary. Another title that caught her eye was Ectoplasmic Herbs for Good and Evil. Fluffle stuffed it into her fur. She'd borrow this.

A few shelves and hair raising moans from books she opened later, Fluffle found it: Creatures from Below. Fluffle pulled the book from the shelf with her mouth--and dropped it onto the floor. Spicy pain seared her mouth like the most lethal of peppers, and it was all she could do to not cry out.

Clenching her teeth, Fluffle blinked furiously to clear her watery eyes and looked at the cover. Its surface wavered before her teary eyes--oh, Celestia, her mouth hurt, but it came into focus just enough for her to read the small text underneath the title:

_{Open at your own risk.}

Fluffle panted and struggled not to let out a sob from the burning in her mouth--she failed, of course--so the warning below the title only registered in her brain halfway. She thought, the town is already at risk, and the book in front of her had what she and her rider needed.

"Fluff, wait--"

R, R...revenant. Revenants are corpses or ghosts that return from the dead in order to terrorize the living. Few repulsions are known, but those that have been discovered have been documented. In 2007, Rohane the White defeated a revenant in the desert though sheer force and, more importantly, a--

The book began to tremble, and Fluffle dropped the book once more, her hooves beginning to flare up, just as the burning in her mouth began to wane. She winced, bracing herself, and shut the book, replacing it immediately.

The book didn't seem too happy about that. It began to wail and scream bloody murder, as though Fluffle had hurt it.

Trying desperately to ignore the unbearable scorching in her hooves, she raced around the room and glanced hurriedly at the titles, hoping there was something else they could find that would stop Creatures From Below from howling so loudly.

Aiden Montgomery coming by and finding them there was the least of her worries...

[Terra]

Blaze followed her fellow townspeople outside, her knife at the ready, Primrose on one side and Annabel on the other.

And she was instantly horrified at the sight that met her eyes.

Wolves. All her wolves were charging into the fray - all the wolves old enough to fight, and a few that really weren’t. They were attacking the lawmen, mauling them, and getting hurt - she could see the blood already -

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING,” she shouted. “WHAT IN HEAVEN ARE YOU DOING, YOU STUPID WOLVES -”

“Claribel!” said Annabel, panicked. “We have to get out of here -”

But Blaze wasn’t listening. She was striding into the fray, screaming at the wolves.

“CHRYSANTHEMUM! RUE! PEETA! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO YOU -” She grabbed a young wolf - Daisy - by the scruff of her neck and tried to drag her off of a lawman, to no avail.

“You’re going to get HURT,” she said desperately.

As the wolf she was trying to restrain escaped her grasp and ran off, she turned around and realized she’d lost track of Primrose.

“PRIMROSE, COME,” she barked loudly. There was no response.

Then she saw a lawman approaching rapidly from the corner of her eye and spun around without thinking to ram her knife into his shoulder. He’d been reaching to grab her arm, but he screamed in pain as the blade sliced through his skin.

“Sorry,” said Blaze, as she yanked the blade out and moved on.

She scurried to one side. Annabel’s fishing pole was hanging off another law enforcement official’s back; the woman herself was nowhere to be seen.

And then Blaze saw someone pointing the barrel of a gun at her head -

Fortunately, Tracy burst out of nowhere to give the man a well-timed kick, which allowed Blaze to run away before he could aim at her again.

Only to stumble across the fallen body of Chrysanthemum, bleeding from his chest.

“NO.” Blaze immediately dropped to her knees, heedless of the surrounding action, but it was immediately clear that it was too late to save him. He was already dead.

She looked around - it looked like the other wolves weren’t faring well either. They were causing devastating damage, to be sure, but however you stacked it, teeth and claws couldn’t beat guns.

She had to get them out of there - but how could she do it? They weren’t listening to her - but this wasn’t their fight, they had no reason, no right to get involved - but they didn’t seem to know when to give up.

So either she could stand by the sidelines and watch the wolves - her friends, her family, the only real family she’d had for years - die...

Or she could join them.

Well, better to die with my friends than to live without them, she thought, as irrational as she’d have thought it was under any other circumstances.

As she charged toward a lawman who was pointing a gun toward Portia, she thought ruefully, If only I’d trained them better.

(Hiding on the sidelines, missing her makeshift weapon, Annabel watched in horror as her sister charged back into the fray.

"Wow," she said softly. "You really care about those wolves, don't you.")

[Gelquie]

Julie slept as well as she could despite the nightmares. As much as she didn't want to risk going to sleep that night, when she actually lied down, the sleep deprivation and the tears finally led to her body giving up, and she zonked out quite quickly.

The nightmare had just ended. It was dark, black, a peaceful mindless interlude.
And then a scream tore through her head, jolting her awake.

She got up immediately and looked around, wondering what had happened. She didn't need to look very far before she saw...

"No!" she cried out, scrambling to her feet, looking in horror at the bloodied corpses of Dove and her friend (Julie didn't know his name). Not only was the murderer still active among them despite the trouble with the lawmen, but they had just taken someone who had shown so much strength yesterday... Julie looked to the others that remained. Blaze, Tracy, Birch, Britknee, and the others that were around. There weren't many left at all of the lively and idyllic town that she once knew. And one of them... One of the people responsible for all of this mess was still alive, and in here with them. The one who had murdered Dove and her friend, and helped kill all those other people... There had to be a way to find out who they were for sure. If there wasn't...

It was then that Sparky spoke up, calling everyone up to arms in battle against the lawmen. ...Arms? Weapons? And against all those lawmen? She stared at her hands, not knowing what she could do against all of the men, especially with so few of the town left... Perhaps there was no other choice; the lawmen indeed weren't being as helpful as she wanted, and she doubted she could sing her way out of the situation. Still... Julie's heart filled with dread with the situation she was facing. She knew she couldn't really fight them. Once more, she felt absolutely helpless...

Still, she had to try something. She put her mandolin to her back in a position where it wouldn't sway as much before she looked around for something she could defend herself with. She managed to find a pole and had grabbed it when she saw something behind it.

Nets. Lots and lots of nets...

She gave her pole to another villager and began to collect the nets, including one dipnet for herself. She saw some boxes of large lead balls, and she attempted to take some of them. With the weight of the nets and the balls and her mandolin blocking access to her back, however, she was struggling.

"Hey! Someone help me with these!" she called out to some of the villagers. One villager noticed her with the nets. The villager let out a smile and headed over, helping Julie with the other side of the nets.

"Sure thing," the woman said, dressed in a bright red clothes that revealed part of her leg and quite a bit of her arms. "Where are we taking these?"

Julie readjusted the nets in her hand as she nodded in the direction of the upstairs window, where a staircase led. "Up there, Crystal."

They began walking with some difficulty when Mr. Bell had also rushed over and grabbed another side of the nets and more of the boxes, alleviating the rest of the burden they were carrying. They began moving easier, and Julie began humming a quiet song to keep rhythm as they trekked up the stairs, as quickly as they could go.

"Hey, thanks sir," Crystal said, giving Mr. Bell a wide grin. "I guess we're lucky that someone as chivalrous as your handsome self came along."

Mr. Bell looked uncomfortable. "Well, er, thanks, but I keep telling you that I'm married."

"That doesn't stop some people," Crystal said, giving him a wink.

"Well I'm not that way. And this really isn't the time," Mr. Bell replied firmly.

"Suit yourself," Crystal said with a sigh.

They continued walking up the stairs until they finally got to the window in question. They set down the nets and then Julie took out the lead balls and put them on the ground. They began tying some lead balls to each net as Julie adjusted the mandolin to be at her side, set down the her dipnet, and looked out the window.

It didn't look good. There were only so few of them left, and the lawmen had guns. What did they think they were doing, trying to kill even more people than were already dead. Was this really what this town needed? Was this really the way they were trying to help them...?

Thankfully, though, they all seem to be clumped together in groups against the townsfolk. And there was one group of lawmen that was just below the window. Julie pointed it out to the other three when they finished tying the lead balls, and all three of them grabbed the large net to which they just tied the lead balls. They quietly counted to three and threw the net over the group.

It seemed to work for the most part. The net fell over the group of lawmen, causing them to stop to struggle against the net. One of the lead balls also happened to hit one of the lawmen on its descent, knocking him unconscious. Julie didn't expect the net to keep them down, but it seemed to at least be doing something.

Just then, a bullet narrowly missed them, and Julie, Mr. Bell, and Crystal immediately backed up to the wall, out of sight of the lawmen. Julie panted heavily, her eyes widened in terror at the close call. If she had just been a little bit farther to the right, just a little bit...

"Come on," Mr. Bell said. "We need to keep putting them on."

Julie hesitated, trying to catch her breath before she nodded nervously. She hummed to herself the nonsense song that calmed her down as she and Crystal ducked down to tie more lead balls to the nets.

She hoped that the nets would at least make a difference.

[icon]

Osi had, yet again, taken to the roof of the Shipshape Shop; for once, though, his eyes were on the ground, not the sky.

"You've got another thing coming!" And that was good old Miss Chaetura, giving a grand motivational speech to help the town... in the midst of a fight. She always was skilled when it came to multitasking, although he was surprised her speech made mention of neither aliens nor tinfoil.

But she was certainly inspiring the town, he had to admit; everyone was fighting, pitching in to fight the authorities. Julie was up in the attic, trapping them under nets, that was clever of her; and there was Blaze, teamed up with her wolves now; and he could see Chet Flash, Sparky O'Drama, and even Britknee was helping out--

Wait. That wasn't everyone, was it.

Osi was surprised that She, of all people, wasn't outside helping the town, spouting some nonsense about truth and justice and honor and whacking the authorities in the head with a plastic wand. She'd been able to hold her own against Pallada, for certain, surely she would be able to help out here... but something in the back of his mind told him that perhaps she might not be fighting for some other, more fatal reason.

He sat up. He stared down at the scene once more, then slowly and carefully floated his way over to Nets, no Waffles. In hindsight, Osi later thought, he could have hurried over, but he was oddly slow about it.

Then he finally reached the door, and floated through. And then he saw Dove.

There was no scream, no cry of shock; anyone who knew Osi Crane knew that would never happen. But every bird in a kilometer radius felt the atmosphere change in some subtle, but significant way¹.

And they rose.

They took off from the ground, from their nests, from their perches, and began to circle in the sky. They made their way towards Nets, No Waffles, where they began to cluster in concentric patterns, a swarm of beaks and wings growing larger, ever larger, forming a pillar of feathers in the sky. A pillar from which arms were now unfurling, and legs, and a head.

And atop that head, a pair of feathered goggles.

And somewhere inside that mass of birds, the ghost of Osilon Abacus Crane stirred. And the birds came down upon the town.


¹Except, of course, for Sweet Ozzer, Mister Malak's Greater Mimicking Parrot, which was deaf in one ear and slightly senile and was therefore known by ornithologists as the countryside's only Worse Mimicking Parrot.

[Avery]

The battle was like, crazy! For one thing there were a bunch of ghosts suddenly floating around which was totes scary! Among them was that Stal guy whose death had kicked of this whole murder-fest. He looked super confused and Britknee briefly considered calling out to him but then like, didn't, because he was randomly asking the warring people if they wanted to buy Stallary Duff dolls, and like, Brit totes was too old to play with dolls and didn't exactly want to listen to a scary ghost's salespitch.

Also, Blaze's wolves were all in town and fighting and Blaze was flipping out about this because she thought her babies would get hurt. LOL! Britknee sure hoped they got hurt, that would serve Blaze right for keeping beasts as pets!!

With her bloody knife, Britknee slashed at all lawmen who dared approach her. She guessed she was doing a sort of ok job at it because like, she wasn't dead yet. Hurrah! In her bag, Snuggles was yipping furiously, and Brit shoved him down deeper and said, "No! No barking! Like, do not draw attention to yourself, wuvvy!"

... then birds showed up. Birds. So many birds. They were mostly focusing on the lawmen, but some of them got near Brit, their loud flapping wings brushing against her hair. OMG! She hated birds, they were sooo icky and unhygienic and carried bird flu!! Gawsh. First her designer clothes covered in blood. And now bird flu.

One of the lawmen used Brit's temporary bird-fueled distraction to kick her in the stomach. Britknee gasped and doubled over-- and as she did, Snuggles leapt out from her purse and sunk his teeth around the lawman's arm. The lawman screamed and tried to flail the poodle off, but Snuggles held on... which caused the lawman to then smack Britknee's luvvy puppy.

Umm, hell to the no!

Adrenaline surged into her. Like a momma bear protecting her uh... puppykins... Britknee slashed her knife against the lawman's cheek. Then she plunged it into his stomach. As he fell, Snuggles loosened his toothy hold, and Brit picked him up and put her back in her purse.

Ok. So like. The lawmen fighting the town, fine. Britknee had been a participant only cos like, she had no other option. But now one of these lawmen had tried to hurt her puppy! Oh, hell hath no fury like a woman whose dog is smacked!

"AIYEEE!" Britknee shrieked, lunging towards another lawman and slash-slash-slashing him. "NO ONE HURTS MY DOG AND GETS AWAY WITH IT! YOU WILL ALL DIE NOW! DIE DIE DIE!"

[Draco]

Cats. Yes, the Cat Meowfia. They were walking through a empty building. They happen to walk past a gas stove, well no, more like on the gas stove. Switching the burners on. However, the fire never lit, it would seem that these stoves were old and had to be lit by hand. The cats lightly laughed to each other as they left the now gas filling building. They ran off, ignoring the urge to attack the birds. They knew better then to attack flocks of birds.

----

Cow #3's ghost floated grazed through the town. She was unsure what to do exactly. Sure the wise old cow god moo'd at her about what to do. But honestly, she couldn't remember exactly what it was. So instead she just followed her old master. She just followed her all over the place, mooing for attention. Even when she went nuts. She kept trotting behind Brit like a lost puppy.

---

Rocky wasn't finished talking with Diana, but Diana left, and he wasn't sure where she was... So he went home, slightly defeated, but not out. Now he stood at the edge of town talking to his sister. Trying to keep her from entering town to fight. Not that she would get hurt oh no, because she had explosives, and well... Explosions... Just what the town needed, a place to explode...

"I keep telling you, that's ok outside town, but not inside it!"

She paced back and forth, annoyed. "But why not?! Explosions are fun and needed!"

"But making them rebuild isn't any good either."

"F-U-N!"

"...Just... Think about it. I have a few ideas I need help with."

She groans and listens to what he has to say.

[Robyn]

Terra twisted and turned through alleys and streets, skimming along the sidewalks of a town that seemed to be populated by the dead just as much as the living, if not more so-- Dove caught quick glimpses of a woman in a decorative shawl, a couple of lovebirds in a fancy dress and a butler's tuxedo, and an elderly lady sipping tea, but at the speed she was going, she couldn't really ascertain much about them. The town was looking more and more familiar though. It was definitely Netwaffle. She'd visited once after Robyn's death, but it had felt too much like a tourist trap for her liking, much too mainstream at the peak of its popularity. Now a year later, things had apparently calmed down, but no one spared so much as a second look at the girls as they rocketed towards an unknown destination. Perhaps they were just used to chaos.

* * * *

Robyn stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection softly glistening back in the three-way mirror. The dress was beautiful: it glowed the same cornflower blue as her spectral form, of course, but it was lined by pearly white beads (concentrated dots of cosmic energy, she'd been told) at the top hem, ruffling into an inverted V past the waist, with the fabric splitting around her tail and trailing elegantly behind her. After all, elegant attire never died. If tears could have pricked her eyes, they would have. It was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

"Are you ready? Does it fit? We want to see, dear!" rang three tinny, completely simultaneous voices.

"Alright, alright! Here goes..."

She took a deep breath and glided past the divider. A trio of delighted giggles and screeches came from the row of chairs on the back wall, where three pillars of vaguely femininely curved light bobbed up and down in excitement. At the announcement of the wedding, they'd materialized out of nowhere, claiming to be her wedding planners. As strange as it was to have such obviously spiritual creatures around, she had to admit that they'd been a huge help.

"Lovely! Just lovely, darling! He'll be so excited!" the "girls" chirped, gathering around the bride-to-be. Robyn laughed and waved them off, blushing.

"I can't thank you enough," she sighed, "It's perfect. And just in time for tomorrow! I don't know how you all did it, but it really worked. I didn't even think I'd be able to change clothes, you know? I'd always been stuck with what I died in."

"We know, we know! When the folks from upstairs heard about your plan, they were very moved. You two are an exception to the rule!"

Robyn's blush grew deeper. The thought of her fiancé in a tuxedo waiting for her at the altar was a fantasy come to life (in a manner of speaking), and he was all she would ever need. Nothing could ruin this moment.

"ROBYN! I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELLLL YOOOU!" came a mocking sing-song voice from down the hall.

Robyn's butterflies instantly vanished. Well, nothing could ruin it except her. She glared as Terra phased through the door to the bridal shop, grinning like a maniac.

Terra's smirk wavered when she laid eyes on Robyn, but something was keeping that smile on her face. "Well. Don't you look nice."

Robyn took a few deep breaths as she'd been instructed to do in counseling. They were just talking. Just a talk. No need to get confrontational.

"What is it, Terra? I'm a bit busy at the moment," she said.

"Well, I have a juicy piece of news for you. It looks like your c--"

Terra was cut off in the middle of her sentence by a mysterious arm that phased through the door and tugged her out of the room by her dress collar. Robyn heard arguing outside, and it didn't take long for it to devolve into what sounded like slaps and punches. She exchanged a shocked glance with her planners and rushed out.

Robyn gasped at the sight: her cousin, freshly deceased, was looking up from her attempt to claw Terra in the face, who was of course holding her own with a fistful of Dove's hair and a hand reared back and ready.

Dismayed, Robyn let her hands drop at her side, and Dove shoved herself away from Terra, who grumbled angrily as she floated off to give them a modicum of space. Dove looked her cousin up and down. Then, she stared up at Robyn, eyes wide with no-show tears and bottom lip quivering.

"Did I-- did I ruin the wedding?" Dove asked pitifully.

Robyn's heart would have broken if it were still beating. She opened her arms, and Dove flew into them, curling her face into her cousin's bare shoulders, shaking like a leaf.

"Shhhh, it's okay, sweetie," Robyn said, petting Dove's hair as she cried, "You didn't ruin anything. The wedding isn't until tomorrow. I'm so, so sorry. I know you tried your best."

"I did!" Dove said, voice cracking, "I tried really hard, imoto-chan! But-- but it wasn't enough, and they got Brutus too, and--"

"Dove, it's okay! It's fine," Robyn said. She broke away and held her cousin's hands in hers. "Everyone ends up in the place they're meant to be eventually. It just looks like you got here sooner than expected! It's really okay."

Dove sniffed away the last of her tears. "No! NO, Robyn-chan, it's not okay. The town is still in trouble."

"Wafflenet?"

"Yes!! They still haven't found the last mafia member. The one who...who killed me. They're still out there, and my friends are in danger, and I need to help them! How do I get back?"

Robyn could tell that her cousin was frantic. She slowly released her hands and said, "Dove, that town was making you nothing but miserable. All those sleepless nights you wrote me about...all the fear... is it really worth going back?"

Dove bit her lip and nodded. "Maybe I can still make a difference there. I need to at least try. I've been trying and trying this whole time; I need to see if any of it counted."

A moment of tense silence passed between them.

Finally, Robyn said, "Well, I'm not letting you go alone. Girls, tell Icon I'll be back in time for the ceremony. But family comes first. We'll all be family come tomorrow afternoon; I know he'll understand."

The trio murmured quietly amongst themselves before conveying a nod. Terra perked up as well.

"Hey, I'm not letting some new mafia in a random hicktown upstage me. I'm coming too. We've got powers that we've honed after over a year of ghostly existence; I say it's time we put them to good use!"

Robyn grit her teeth. "Fine. But no hurting the innocents!"

"No guarantees, detective."

"Come on!!" Dove chimed in, "There's no time to lose! IKIMASHOU!"

Robyn took her hand, and with Terra following closely behind, the three entered the vortex of ghostly transport, traveling full speed ahead to the raging battle at Wafflenet.