Mafia The Third: The Seaside Town of Aifam Cove

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Sooner or later, I always end up coming back to the rocks.

I hadn't been up here since that fateful day of Enna's murder, hardly even a week ago. I should have come up here to think, I could have helped, I could have saved the town... but it didn't work.

Nothing fell through. The investigations? Fell flatter than a tonedeaf skydiver without a parachute. The research, the clues, nothing worked. Even that website, that one thing that could have made all the difference, didn't work out in the end. We were too late. We tried to save the town, we tried everything, but it didn't-

"Ris."

-we tried our best, but-

"Ris, something big is going down."

"but in the end it didn't--oh." Ris stopped and looked up as Coena climbed up the rock. "Didn't hear you coming up."

"I stayed quiet," came the muffled reply through Coena's scarves. "Technically we're supposed to be finding Gunderson right now, but no chance of that happening. You look cold." Coena unzipped their outermost jacket, and several bundled up sweaters fell out. "Here, take one."

Ris gratefully accepted another sweater, pulling it over her trenchcoat. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the pounding of the waves.

Eventually, Ris turned around and said, "I take it this means that you're--"

"Yeah, school starts next week."

"What time do you leave? They're letting you leave?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, most likely. They kind of said we're not allowed to tell anyone about it, but the truth'll get out anyways."

"It always does," Ris agreed. She pulled her phone out and began scrolling through it. "I still can't help but feel like we could have done something, like... like we could have done anything. It's just not fair."

Coena turned to face Ris, and a dozen hat bobbles turned as well. "Monaco, did you see what that site said about the town? About us? There was no way we could have done anything from the start."

"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say. You don't have to keep living in a town that'll be plagued with organized crime, and extortion, and ghosts! You can just move on to better places while I'm stuck here and everyone dies."

Coena didn't say anything for a while. The two of them just sat there, taking in the crash of water, of an uncertain turmoil which left the people it affected lost and listless.

The next time Ris looked up, Coena had already wandered off.

* * *

Ris stood at the front of Channel 24 News Studio, prying the door open slowly. "Hello there, Ms. Lewis? Mr. Pratchett? I was wondering if... if you needed any help around the studio? Like an intern, or something?"

Let me tell you, Aifam Cove is a tough beat to walk, and it's about to get even tougher. But this town needs someone who can pursue the truth when the trail runs dry and justice takes the fall. It needs someone to turn to when the world is at its back.

It needs someone like me.

My name is Ris Monaco. I'm a private eye.

SPOILER: Click to show

You just can't keep a good detective down.

[Ian Wolf-Park]

“Evan, I'm sure you've heard what's happened. Look, this is my fault, all my fault,” Anna told Evan in a low voice, the words tumbling out. “So please, let me make one thing right. I've got some savings, it's in a bank account, of course, but let me give it to you, along with my SUV. Just take it all and get out of town before they can stop you. Whatever you had, it's not worth staying for. You've been a good friend since that day I met you, and I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other while I was alive. I want to make one thing right, try to save one life. Please, get out of here before anything happens to you. Please?”

Evan sighed before facing his attention towards Anna.

"So, you've just indirectly confessed to a former Phantom Society Agent that you, at one point, had a potion of resurrection. Normally, I would lecture you, Miss Dywight, but you've already been through hell, and you've already seen the results of something that powerful, but I do wish that you had destroyed it when you had the chance. It would probably have saved the town the misery of something like this. I'm not angry at you, just disappointed." He took a seat on the steps, briefly thinking.

"You know what, I think I'll take your offer of your vehicle as I could use a new one and I'll make sure that your bank account is transferred to my name. I was going to warn Morty that the mafia have won, but I'll let someone else do it instead. Then there's the issue of your shop. I know someone in Weewoo City that sells antiques as if they were hotcakes. She also makes sure that they aren't cursed when she's inspecting them for rarity. I am going to stay here in Aifam Cove for a little bit longer as I need some time to find a new location. I know that's not what you wanted, Miss Dywight, but you have to understand the position that I'm currently in." At that point, he got up and planted a kiss on her cheek to the best of his ability, again, surprising her.

SPOILER: Click to show

Evan's disappointed with Anna's indirect confession, but he takes up her offer.

[Kristykimmy]

Evan sighed, a deep disappointed sigh. Anna wasn't really surprised, after all, she had just told him that she'd been singlehandedly responsible for giving Professor Bardsley the means to resurrect the dead.

"So, you've just indirectly confessed to a former Phantom Society Agent that you, at one point, had a potion of resurrection. Normally, I would lecture you, Miss Dywight, but you've already been through hell, and you've already seen the results of something that powerful, but I do wish that you had destroyed it when you had the chance. It would probably have saved the town the misery of something like this. I'm not angry at you, just disappointed."

She hung her head in shame. She didn't know what the Phantom Society was, but clearly Evan had been here for something greater than just being a vet.

“I should have known better, taken that accursed thing to the grave with me rather than trust someone under the circumstances, but I just wasn't thinking clearly. I'm so sorry,” Anna whispered. “He was a teacher, I was afraid the Mafia would go after one of the young college students. I'm so sorry.”

Evan had sat silently on the back step, clearly deep in thought. She waited, hoping he'd agree to leave town before they came after him.

"You know what, I think I'll take your offer of your vehicle as I could use a new one and I'll make sure that your bank account is transferred to my name. I was going to warn Morty that the mafia have won, but I'll let someone else do it instead. Then there's the issue of your shop. I know someone in Weewoo City that sells antiques as if they were hotcakes. She also makes sure that they aren't cursed when she's inspecting them for rarity. I am going to stay here in Aifam Cove for a little bit longer as I need some time to find a new location. I know that's not what you wanted, Miss Dywight, but you have to understand the position that I'm currently in,” he said at last.

He rose and leaned forward, planting a kiss on her cheek. There was nothing solid, as she was spectral and he was alive, but the effort was what counted. She didn't know if she could blush, as she didn't have blood anymore, but if she could, she knew she was.

“Do what you have to, then. So long as you don't do anything that could get you killed by the mafia,” Anna said. “Can I help in any way?”

SPOILER: Click to show

Anna accepts Dr. Parker's admonition about the potion and is happy when he accepts her offer. She asks if there is anything she can do to help him leave town before the Mafia suspects anything is up.

[Avery]

Part of Bea was terrified after confronting Nathan. The moment those accusatory words left her lips, her heart dropped into her stomach as she agonized over how he'd respond. What if he killed her here on the spot? Or worse-- what if he retaliated by hurting Kylie? Even still, she didn't entirely regret them. She... she couldn't just let Nathan get away with what he'd done, how he'd toyed with her heart. She'd trusted him. As the town had devolved into chaos, Bea had trusted Nathan. And all along he'd been one of the men behind the curtain, the puppeteer pulling the strings.

"Oh..Bea, hi dear. Um, this--this doesn't change anything in our relationship, does it?"

Bea gaped at him. Not entirely convinced that she'd heard him right. She wanted to sputter a reply, but was so shocked that she couldn't even form together sounds, much less entire words.

He continued, "Like, I know you have a thing against murders - and that's okay, I sort of see where you're coming from - but things will be good now. I never would have let you be killed. And we didn't kill Kylie, and Lucille was very sadly lynched by the town."

"I..." Her head continued to spin. "You killed innocent people," she managed eventually. "You and your friends-- you left me terrified. True, you didn't kill Kylie, but you traumatized her alright. And Lucille was executed by the town... but only because people were scared about the murders... Y-you... you can't excuse it, Nathan. It was evil."

Merry, picking up on the tense mood, whined and nudged at Bea's hand. Bea gave the dog a comforting pat on the head, wondering if the pup would obey if she ordered it to attack Nathan. ... maybe, Bea decided. Merry was very loyal. But then, Nathan and his cronies might hurt the dog and... Merry didn't deserve that. She didn't issue the command. Instead, she listened as Nathan went on:

""Beatrix, with you by my side... we'll own this town. With six others of course, as it's a joint investment. We'll have everything you want. There will be money, comfort, sandwiches, and even alcohol if you like the stuff. I have a few bottles in my backroom, but with me there will be plenty more to come. This town will be a dream to live in, and we'll be happy. We'll be happy together, forever."

She wanted to puke. Did he... did he really think she still wanted to be with him? That she could be with him: a man whose hands were stained with blood, who had murdered a child at a funeral? A child! She wanted to scream this at him. Tell him that she never wanted to see him again. Tell him to rot in hell like the piece of scum he was.

But then--

Then Beatrix Devon realized something. Nathan owned this town (or at least as part of a joint investment, as he'd said). He had proven his might already. He had proven that he would kill without hesitation. So if she turned him down now... what would we he do? Hurt her, maybe. That was certainly a possibility. But what if he went beyond that? What if he sought his revenge-- the loss of his love-- by hurting the only person Bea loved? She...

She couldn't say no, could she? Not to this man. She stared into his eyes, which before she had found so pretty. Now, she only saw wickedness. Evil. He was evil. He would hurt Kylie if it benefitted him; Bea knew this with a sudden certainty. And... she owed so much to Kylie. She owed a lifetime of missed events, fractured conversations, absent love-- everything she hadn't given to Kylie as she'd been caught up in her cloud of mourning Lenore. She needed to make it all up to her daughter now. And painting a target on Kylie's head was not the way to accomplish that.

So even as she wanted to vomit, Bea took a deep breath and reached out a hand. She intertwined her fingers with Nathan's. "Happy," she said, the word tasting like acid on her tongue. "Yes, I think we could be happy together, you and I. Happy. Forevermore..."

SPOILER: Click to show

Bea is shocked by the way Nathan seems to think she still wants to be with her-- but realizes that if she turns him down, he might hurt Kylie. Nauseated, she agrees to stay with him to protect her daughter.

[Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)]

Alma felt dead and pregnant all at once. Her stomach lurched at every word Christopher shouted at her--appropriately each one felt like a stab to her middle.

"You lied! You lied! Why would you do something like this? Kill people? How could you?"

"What was I supposed to do?! I wasn't just going to sit there, just like..." Alma hesitated. She really had no right to say "just like the rest of you." She'd snapped far too many necks and strangled one too many people to do that. "Christopher, please understand...."

"I hate you! How could you do this to me? How could you just leave me... and. Mothers aren't supposed to be... cannibals! They aren't supposed to feed their children HUMANS!"

"I'm not a cannibal and neither are you!--" Wait--was he talking metaphorically? It surely felt like he was eating her from the inside out. Or was that her own sin? Either way...

"I thought... I thought you were different. But you aren't! You're just like all the other mothers!"

"Wait..." Was this what it was like to be strangled?! Poor Lili...Alma squeezed her eyes shut. "We all die alone," she'd said in her mafia-sleep. And she'd awakened to the reality that was the nightmare. Alma struggled for breath. "Christopher, please--I'm different! You're like the son I never had! I love y--"

"I hate you, I hate you." he sobbed, "I hate you Alma. I HATE YOU!"

There was no denying it now. He'd addressed her by name. "I know, child," she murmured, her face streaming with tears.

And then the Doctor answered her question.

Alma swallowed. There was something she didn't like in that scholar. It was almost like Bardsley--surely neither of them had anyone to protect. They wouldn't understand her. Not even dear sweet Christopher understood her. Alma nodded her head, but inwardly, she shook it.

Dr. Pallada had clearly sensed something different about Alma, just as she had said. The ghost leered and jabbed her fingers into Alma's throat, which immediately felt chilling and fiery all at once. Who was this ghost?

"So you are leaving, just as this glorious reign has begun? Even though your hands helped create it. You are a murderer, embrace it. You can't just leave a mafia once you're part of it. Stay true to your comrades," she murmured and grinned viciously.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alma choked out. "I'm not a murderer. I'm only the person used to murder. I didn't really have a mind in it. Just a hand." Alma looked at her hands and immediately regretted her words. They'd just slipped out, as though she was returning to sleep.

"I once knew a traitor. He was in our mafia but once he died, he had a change of heart, no longer wanted to kill. He hurt me, a lot. If I did not hate traitors before, I hate them now."

Who was really betraying whom?

Despite the fact that she felt like she could barely breathe, less so with Diana's burning hot fingers in her throat, she found what little voice she had left and gave it the fiercest tone she could muster. "Listen, you..."

"The boy...and the girl you were speaking too...they will have to stay behind, if you leave. A traitor is a selfish creature but to prevent traitors, you know what is usually used against them? Their loved ones.

Alma gasped. But I'm not selfish!... she thought with hesitation. Part of the reason she'd joined the mafia was to be independent from her husband--not everything was sweetness and surprises--there was always business talk she did not understand, there was always the last word that he had to have. But this...she, for once, had the last word. Getting protection for her husband and child--that was all part of the package, wasn't it?

Dr. Pallada continued, "I do not know who these children are. They could be yours or they could just be people you know. But I would gladly hunt them down if it means punishing a traitor. I would do it even if Winter's Wrath does not instruct me. All because your kind sickens me," Pallada dug her fingers into Alma's throat. Even if they went right through her and Diana was no longer a revenant, the feeling must have still been chilling.
Alma's ears started ringing. "My kind?! What have you got against gingers?!" Her auburn hair almost fluttered in the light breeze that blew around her. "Gingers have souls--my name is Soul..."

"So stay loyal. Or the children will die. Children die all the time, I have no qualms with adding a few more to the pile. Ghosts can die, trust me. I know."

If Alma had hardly any breath before, she certainly had less of it now. Gasping like a fish straining for life, she stepped in front of Christopher again and dug her hands into her pockets. She balled them both into fists.

"Not my daughter, you fish!"

Alma growled, throwing the salt in her pockets into Dr. Pallada's face. Ears still ringing, heart still pounding, throat still burning madly, she cried out hoarsely, "Lynna! Hide yourself! Be the breeze we need you to be! And Christopher, get out of here before she does anything to you! I want you safe!"

She turned to the rest of her mafiosos and glared at them. "You want me to stay? Fine, I will. But that doesn't mean we have to like each other." Alma was through cowering, crying, and throwing giant popcorn machines at her fellow mafiosos, despite the plain fact that the vast majority of them was certifiably insane.

"Hermia, you have family, don't you? You get it. You get why I had to do that." Alma pointed at Dr. Pallada. "I'm telling you, dearie, she had it coming."

A ghost floated past, a young man. He didn't look like he was from Aifam. Alma bristled again. "Wait...are you with her?" She reached into her pocket. But....no. He looked like he was floating over to Cheryl and Christopher....and he glanced her way as if he understood her plight. "You're not with Dr. Pallada, are you....?" She asked, mostly to herself.


Alma was suddenly aware of her fellow mafia members standing behind her and turned around. "You guys want to kill me instead? Fine. Just....give me a piece of paper first. And after I'm done, do what you like with me. It's the only way I'll get to deal with the likes of her. Really, you'd be doing me a favor." Her heart pounded harder. This sort of reverse psychology didn't work well with killers, but honestly, what choice did she have? What choice did she have....ever?

And then someone's voice rang over the town's public loudspeaker. You don't have to die to be defeated and I am going to defeat you. Alma winced. As far as she knew, she'd already been defeated...

But not completely.

She ran back inside the morgue, whistled loudly, and hastily penned a letter.

Dear Endre,

Before you tear this letter up, read this carefully--I tried to quit.

It wasn't a smart move. They don't trust me. Leave this place. Change your name. Change everything. I'll distract them.

Remember, whatever happens to me doesn't concern you now. I love you. I always have.

--A Soul

As if on cue, a brown Weewoo hopped onto the morgue's windowsill, and Alma begged him to hurry and take the letter despite not having any decent payment. "Fly, my pretty, fly..."

She emerged from the morgue once more with her soul on wings. "Let's get to business, then, shall we?" She said, holding a scarf taut between both hands.

-------------------------

Fluffle's ears went down. She'd won the game of tag, but somehow it had turned into hide and seek! Being a ghost, it wasn't hard to seek, but it was oh so hard to hide because she was just so large and fluffy!

The town square was the most obvious hiding spot, so Morty wouldn't hide there, as the fun game announcers had tried to insinuate. She certainly wouldn't fall for any of their tricks!

Suddenly, the pony heard a giggle and felt something rustle in her fur. Two somethings, really.

The pony nickered, turned her head around, and scooped out a fish with a strange red growth on its face and head. She whinnied in shock, almost tossing it clean through the floor. A fish ghost in her fur?! Goodness, she thought, I'm going to have to set stricter rules to those who rent a room in here!

The fish wasn't likely to giggle. Fluffle poked inside her fur with a hoof and heard another giggle. She pulled out....a child! A ghost child! Her hair was fluttering as if it was rustled by an unseen breeze or...water, more likely, and she was having a glorious time, practically swimming in Fluffle's blue ghost fluff. "I love it in here!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, you must be the owner! Nice place you have here." Lynna patted the pony on the head. Fluffle smiled, showing all her white horsey teeth. "Can I stay in here for a while?" Lynna munched on a ghost marshmallow she'd had in her pocket while asking.

Fluffle licked her lips. The lightsaber fiasco hadn't worked that well with her previous rider, and he'd jumped off in the middle of the game of tag! Ah well, his loss. But that marshmallow....Fluffle gestured to it with a hoof.

"Oh! You want some?" Fluffle whinnied happily and licked up the marshmallow Lynna held out to her. She nodded vigorously. "Yay!"

Lynna buried herself in the toasty fur, laughing and taking Pillowface with her.

Now that that was all sorted...

Fluffle half floated half trotted to the town square. Sometimes the most obvious spot was the best spot to hide in! She would not let anyone fool her! But there was no sign of Morty. Only the seven gamemakers and...Diana?! What?!

Fluffle gave an unusually loud whinny/squeak of terror and surprise and dove into a building, hoping the scholar didn't see her. Diana wasn't red anymore...that could only mean one thing:

EVIL GHOSTS COULD CHANGE COLORS.

SPOILER: Click to show

Alma's heart is broken after being chewed out by the Woobster, but she gets the guts to toss salt at Pallada after the latter threatens to hurt/kill Lynna and Christopher. Alma grudgingly rejoins the mafia, but with no real intent to kill. She pens a hasty letter to her husband telling him to get the hell out of Cove.

Fluffle makes fast friends with Lynna and agrees to let the kid hide in her fur. She notices Diana and panics.

[Tiger]

Christopher was shouting.

Cheryl focused on that. She couldn’t process everything at once – the mafia had won, Richem, Bourdeaux, Bardsley, and Lindsey Lukas back from the dead, and the full mafia now standing revealed - Nathan Lukas, the tea shop owner, Alma Mathers-Fitzgibbons, assistant accountant, fish-lover, and supposed friend to Christopher, and Hermia Smith, fellow journalist. They’d shared an office building. (Pratchett had sent her a picture of Hermia’s desk and papers, in their new home, pushed just outside the back door. Cheryl had sent him a text back telling him to bring it back in – they couldn’t afford to anger the mafia, not right now). Mick Angelo, the ghost from Wafflenet who had tried to help them track down Morty, had told her about the ghost now standing beside Bardsley.

She couldn’t handle it all, especially because she could do nothing about it – nothing besides the incredibly unwise move of decking every single one of them squarely in the face. They’d be on her in an instant with knives and guns and whatever other weapons they used, and Cheryl couldn’t throw her life away like that.

But she could help Christopher. And she had to.

The crowd was frustratingly everywhere she needed to be. Cheryl could hear the shouting intensify even as she struggled to work through the group, who weren’t exactly receptive to the reporter trying to get through them as they digested the news about the town’s new leaders. “Come on!”

Through her camera, she caught a glimpse of a blue ghost rising carefully through the street, winding around scattered salt on the snowy street. The light of his earpiece was flicking a fast blue– what a ghost needed with an earpiece was a mystery to Cheryl but she wasn’t questioning it. “This way,” he said. “Just follow me, I can get you there faster.” His mouth suddenly twisted. “Sorry, Meta can get you there.”

“Who’s – nevermind. Lead the way.”

“If Diana - the ghost up there - comes at us,” Mick added, “get Christopher and get out of here.”

Mick led the way, darting through gaps like a constantly-startled fish. The comparison reminded Cheryl of Alma and her stomach clenched. Wherever the ghost was getting his path from, it was faster than trying to push through the people.

”I hate you, Alma. I HATE YOU!”

“You better go ahead,” Mick said quietly.

“Christopher!” Cheryl called, hurrying up to the ghost. She reached for his arm to take it - for the first time she thought maybe she felt something, a slightly more resistant patch of air, maybe, though her fingers could still pass through it if she tried. “Chris…”

She didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly say? There was nothing that could make any of this right or okay or tolerable. She was just as furious – she was angry and disgusted and no, there was nothing that could make it right. The mafia had won, they were all alive and those they had killed were still dead and there was an ugly red and black flag snapping like a whip in the cold breeze.

“I’m so sorry, Chris.”

-------

Mick was watching carefully – trying to watch everything. Pallada was nearby and it was freaking Mick out, though he tried not to show it. Why was she here? How had she gotten back? Were her revenant powers really gone?

“Murdershipping, I’m still working on that, and yes.”

What are you talking about, Meta?

“I’m answering your questions! Oh – look alive, kid – oooh, bad choice of words!”

Mick frowned but shifted more of his attention outward. The mafia woman in the cloak said, "You don't understand...I had to...my family depended on me..." There was a ghost of a little girl behind her.

Voice abruptly robbed of all humor, malignant or otherwise, Metastophelous said, "Sound familiar?"

Mick's heart would have pounded so hard it hurt if he'd been alive. Dead, he felt the pain but not the beat in that bizarre purgatory blend of the disconcerting and the outright torturous.

"I've helped you already. I'm leaving. I have nothing more to offer you."

"What d'you think, Angelo?"

He didn't have to think - Mick knew precisely what Metastophelous was leading to with this. Why he'd made sure Mick was here in time to hear this. This mafia woman, whoever she was...to Meta, she was just a different version of Mick.

Mick wanted to believe things wouldn't have turned out this way. He'd started writing a confession, but he'd been too late, he'd been executed before he could pluck up the courage to write down more than his own name as guilty. He wanted to believe, desperately wanted to believe, that if the town hadn't executed Mick, he would have found that strength and written their names and stopped the mafia before they killed any more people or the people killed anymore innocents.

He couldn't believe that he would let things go this far - and only then try to leave.

"But you don't know that, do you, Angelo? Oh, you might not have been an automaton about it like this one, but hey, in some ways that's probably worse, don't you think? And even if you'd written your little letter and gotten it to someone who could help - there were already so many lives on your conscience. Just because you didn't wipe out an entire town doesn't mean you were any less wrong, does it?"

Mick's heart continued to not pound but hurt. His motivations for joining in the first place hadn't even been something like family or security. Fear had been his motive, in the end. And maybe fear was -

Pallada dug her spectral fingers into the living woman's throat.

She had her fingers in the living woman’s throat. Mick’s memory flashed back with painful clarity – Diana Pallada reaching into a man’s chest and squeezing his heart until he fell, Tanya lying dead at the revenant’s feet when he’d flown through that rooftop, Diana and Julie torturing Blaze Wolfstorm with nothing more than their intangible touches and all their revenant powers.

"So stay loyal,” Pallada was saying. ”Or the children will die. Children die all the time, I have no qualms with adding a few more to the pile. Ghosts can die, trust me. I know."

He shook the memories off. He had more practice getting hold of himself now. This had to stop – he had to do something, he’d fought Pallada before and he’d do it again if he had to –

“Hold it there, Micky. You can’t earn somebody else’s redemption. Let's be honest, you've got enough on your plate with your own.”

Apparently the same thing that had almost driven Mick into action drove the living woman over the edge – shifting to stand in front of Christopher, she hurled salt in the ex-revenant’s face, shouted to the little girl’s ghost – Mick saw the girl dart off and almost started after her, but Meta snapped, “No – they need you somewhere else!”

“But – “

“Fluffle’s got them taken care of.”

“Fluffle? She’s here?”

“I told you, computer doesn’t lie! Or’d you just forget? You should start keeping a notebook or something. It’d probably do you a lot of good.”

“Where’s Fluff-“

“In the crowd somewhere, but look, you’ve got work to do. Understand?”

Mick hesitated, looking around. He didn’t see any pink, spectral ponies. But…maybe that was a good thing. Mick’s work often got dangerous – according to Meta, usually more so when she was around, due to Rules of Equal Challenge or something like that, which automatically upped the difficulty of whatever mission Mick was on when he had help. That…didn’t make much sense to Mick, but he knew better than to voice that confusion.

…The point was, if Fluffle wasn’t with him, she couldn’t be hurt by whatever Mick ran into on his mission. “…She’ll be safe?”

“Nothing’s a hundred percent, but I’m pretty sure cameo characters aren’t in any real danger outside their birth roleplay.”

“Wha – “

“Look, I’m gonna say this one last time – get back to work. Make sure Lewis and Dylans get back to the studio, and then you need to hightail it to Prettyboy College.”

“Pretty…pretty what? Did Alex make a college when I wasn’t looking?”

“Haha, you’re hilarious. You have two seconds before I shock you again.”

-------

Cheryl instinctively tried to pull Chris back when Diana the ghost implicitly threatened him and another ghost Cheryl couldn’t see. Alma’s daughter – no wonder nobody had been able to find her. Things got violent quickly at that point.

”Christopher, get out of here before she does anything to you! I want you safe!"

Cheryl’s lip curled – now she cared? – but it wasn’t like she was wrong, that the best place for Christopher was definitely not here.

She heard Mick from close behind. “We do need to go – apparently there’s a studio that’s safe. I’ll watch your backs – if Diana tries anything, I can fight her off.” There was a note of grim certainty in the tailed ghost’s voice.

Sister Erata's voice came on over the loudspeaker. Cheryl felt a flare of righteous pride at the nun's resolve, but it was just one emotion in a sea of many, many sadder ones. I'll help you, Sister - but I need to help others first.

“This way,” Cheryl said to Mick. “Christopher...let’s get out of here.” She hoped the ghost was ready to follow.

-------

Pratchett had gotten most of the security cameras working again. A few were destroyed beyond repair. Piper’s temper tantrum, Pratchett was sourly thinking of it. Even thoughts like that couldn’t amuse the technician now. Albert had been silently recording the announcement. Pratchett refused to push it to broadcast, but all of it had passed by on one of the working monitors.

There were going to be dark days ahead. Pratchett tried to feel ready to face them. Things were going to change. Pratchett tried to feel ready for that, too. The technician already knew that when Cheryl returned to the studio, she was going to talk war. Counter-strategy. Undercover operations. Pratchett’s shadowy fingers flexed. Changes.

There was movement on one of the cameras. Pratchett tensed – the person on the screen was living, but that just meant it was more likely to be a mafioso than an innocent, now that the dead mafiosos had come back to life. At least Piper couldn’t ruin the cameras with anything less than a very long crowbar.

But this was not a mafioso come to seek vengeance, unless the mafia were hiring children now. Annoying childre- Well, no, Travis was mafia. Ris Monaco crept into the studio with what Pratchett had to admit was not a request he’d seen coming.

"Hello there, Ms. Lewis? Mr. Pratchett? I was wondering if... if you needed any help around the studio? Like an intern, or something?"

Pratchett considered the intercom button. I could use someone to make coffee. …Oh, and I guess Cheryl needs all the help she can get, or something.

“Miss Monaco – I think Cheryl’ll be back…eh, shortly. Officially, she gets the final decision, but…how about you come directly to my office so we can limit the gum wrappers to one room, and we’ll talk about this whole internship thing.”

SPOILER: Click to show

Apologies if I’ve screwed up order or detail – let me know if I’ve made a mistake and I’ll correct it ASAP.

Cheryl and Mick get to Christopher. They observe Alma’s breakdown. Meta tells Mick to escort Cheryl and Chris (I just realized both duos have names starting with the same letters, how adorable) to the studio and then get his tail to Mars Prettyboy.

At the studio, Pratchett broods and unofficially officially accepts Ris as an intern.

[Lizica]

Early, early that morning, Piper had finally floated back to Sirensong Beach after Webster's underwater escapade. She'd taken a moment to grumble to herself and pour out the brine and seaweed and sandy grit from her new broken camera. She wondered if the poor dead camera would be even deader now, even as underwater images flashed through her mind--darkness and water and darkness. Why had Webster bothered?

Her thoughts had been cut off when she suddenly realized there were other people on the beach.

And this time they were all together. With Chill. With Bardsley.

Piper might have done something particularly violent to the professor's stupid smug face at that point, but it was hard when her fellow mafiosos held her back and subsequently ghostly-bodily dragged her from the beach.

Having beaten Piper back to the surface, Webster himself had been farther down the beach beforehand--and he mournfully picked up debris that washed upon the shoreline. Broken bottles, crate shards, a charred piece of suitcase. He'd even dug up a twisted crowbar.

He'd miss that lady. And so, carefully carrying a load of the flotsam, Webster carried it back to his burrow and laid it reverently with the rest of his stash.

The silence was interrupted as sounds of the Winter's Wrath drifted down to him. He poked his eyestalks from his burrow, and Webster watched as the group bore Piper along, trying to explain the mafia situation all along the way. His eyestalks coolly followed their motions until they were out of sight--and then, with a sudden excited click, he lightly popped from the burrow and scuttled over to the dingy rowboat on the shore--which still lay abandoned near the high tide mark.

Gently, gingerly, Webster closed his claws around the life vest inside and extricated the camera wrapped inside.

Snipe Hunt jingled brightly in greeting.

Webster scanned the beach; the sun hadn't quite risen yet, but across the ocean, the sky in the east was just barely tinged with a lush shade of orange. He propped Snipe Hunt against a sand bank and turned it on. And, carefully framing the sunrise with a patch of pampas grass at its corner, Webster set the self timer to ten seconds.

Snipe Hunt counted down, and Webster entered its frame and--waved. No one else was here. The smaller crabs had moved farther down the beach; the seabirds were still nestled away; the whole beach was quiet, save for the crash of waves and the soothing rush of winds on the sand.

No one was here, except for Webster and Snipe Hunt. Not a soul stirred, except for Webster and this camera.

The camera clicked.

And Webster collected it; his eyestalks bobbed over the display screen in satisfaction; and he carefully shut Snipe Hunt down, slinging it over his carapace.

He knew someone who would be back for it later. But in the meantime--Webster paced down the coastline, to sit with ghosts.

--

Piper was not happy with Bardsley. That self-important stuffed shirt was just doing this so he could make Piper feel like she owed him something. And--gratitude to that arrogant, photo-killing jerk? HA! She needed that like she needed a hole in the--

Piper sat up in the morgue refrigeration unit and bonked her head on its ceiling, hard, right where the gunshot wound had been.

Ooh. Ooh, she'd get him for this.

Rubbing her throbbing, barely-healed forehead and grumbling to herself, Piper stiffly picked up her tripod and broken camera and unsteadily followed her mafia out into the daylight.

Make no mistake, it was good to be alive again. And it was good to finally be reunited with Nathan and Travis and Hermia in Abominable Aifam. ...Even if Hermia had, you know, betrayed Piper TO HER DEATH--at least she wasn't condescending and pompous about it. Like Bardsley. The other Chills seemed alright, all things considered: Lindsey seemed nice enough as long as she didn't talk Piper's ear off about cake, and Alma had thrown a popcorn machine at Bardsley's ghost, and that made her alright in Piper's book.

But as nice as it was to be here, to be alive, it would be a lie to say that Piper was paying full attention to her partners' speeches as they spoke to Aifam Cove at large. As her head continued to throb, Piper's thoughts flitted back to the beach as she considered her considerably easier options to photograph Webster as a non-ghost. And when she wasn't thinking about that, she was considering how would be a good way to get her revenge on Bardsley for EVERYTHING SHE'D JUST HAD TO GO THROUGH IN DEATH, THAT MISERABLE HACK.

But mostly, Piper was just waiting for them to finish their speech so she could get back to the beach.

Their flag was run up the pole; many of the townspeople turned and left to go on the Morty-hunting mission or something. Finally, Piper thought. Are we done? Are we good? Will the townspeople finally leave me alone now? Can I get to the beach now?

"How could you?"
"Happily ever after? Do you think anyone from this town could ever live happily ever after after what you did to it?"
“No, this isn’t fair! You guys cheated! This is all wrong! This game is stupid! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”
"Do you actually realise that you're insane?"

...Shoot. Clearly they weren't done yet. As if to solidify this point, Travis suddenly flung his arms around Piper and Lindsey, making his usual sort of declarations.

“You guys, this is going to be just like F.R.I.E.N.D.S only far better and more realistic. Let's take some group selfies and remember this moment forever. We're the victors of The Travis Games after all, we can have hilarious antics together. Let's all buy an apartment and live together. We can be besties and it'll be fabulous.”

"That's nice, Travis, but I don't have time for selfies right now, I need to--"

"Oh, you do not know me. I am Dr. Diana Aurora Pallada of Wafflenet. And I am here to offer my congratulations to the good Professor for his victory. However, as you were the primary actors, I feel like I should extend it to you too."

Piper nearly jumped at this particular voice. She gazed up into the face of a pale white ghost hovering menacingly in the air before Winter's Wrath. And although Piper had never seen her before, Piper instantly docked the specter points: For one, she already seemed to get along with Bardsley--and two, Piper got a creepy vibe from her. Oddly reminiscent of that chasm, that horrific underwater chasm.

But on the plus side, Piper's foray into death apparently allowed her to see ghosts now. That would be immensely helpful with her photography in the future.

...Still. Piper squirmed in Travis's death grip. Hermia at least had the grace to thank the Pallada ghost for the congratulations--so hopefully Piper wouldn't be expected to interact with the ghost. Piper warily turned to her dead camera and examined it for further damage. ...But it seemed oddly unresponsive now that she was alive. ...She hadn't even gotten to nickname it yet.

Piper vaguely registered the voices around her as she looked the camera over more closely. Nathan was having lady troubles (hadn't Lindsey taught him anything about talking to girls?); a ghost floated upwards (the morgue worker?); Bardsley decided to up and skip the meeting to go teach his stupid class (good, good, time to work on his comeuppance); Alma was talking with some ghosts (who were they?) before throwing salt at Pallada (what, did that work?); someone (the nun?) was declaring vengeance over the city broadcast system; a small group of people and ghosts (some recognizable, some not) were trying to go somewhere safe and were probably going to--

"SNIPE HUNT," Piper yelped, her memory suddenly catching up with her. "I LEFT SNIPE HUNT ON THE BEACH."

SPOILER: Click to show

Before the Narrator Post, Piper surfaces from the ocean and then gets carted off by the mafia to the morgue. Webster, in the interim, gathers up some of Lucille's destroyed stash--and then gleefully takes Snipe Hunt (left in the rowboat). He takes his own photograph and scuttles off.

Meanwhile, Piper is revived, continues to be furious with Bardsley, listens disinterestedly to her mafiosos' speeches, and encounters multiple ghosts and happenings before suddenly realizing she left Snipe Hunt behind.

((Otherwise known as the post where Piper is forced to be in the same place as half the town when she's been trying to avoid people for the entire game. xD Sorry this is so long and unhelpful-to-characters. Maybe I'll have more time to edit later?))

[Draco]

Rocky floated out of the room quickly, followed by a confused Jack.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to do my duties as Mayor of course!" He motions to anyone in the area, "Everyone lock down the town hall. Do not let those people inside. They have to be shown they can't take over the town!"

Most of the people were confused, no idea who this guy was, or why a ghost was barking orders at them that wasn't Jack. Meanwhile they also questioned the confused Jack chasing after the new ghost. Some of the people did obey though, and locked the doors to the building. Rocky floats outside and floats at the front door, followed by Jack.

"What are you doing?! You can't juts bark orders at them, you aren't the mayor!"

"How many times have I explained it? It's a technicality, but you did in fact elect me. My original goal was to just enlist new members to the G-Host Club, and possibly set up a branch here. But now that your mafia seemed to have come back to life, I'm taking action!"

He floats there, sparkling and rose petals scatter steps of the building.

Jack glares at Rocky.

"Glare all you want my dear assistant, but-"

He was cut short as someone's voice comes over the intercom. Smiling Rocky poofs with a small pop and float petals.

Meanwhile Jack is now furious. Who gave that crazy nun authorization to use the broadcast system?! That was for emergencies! What was going on does count, but there are papers that still need to be filled out. And he was going to make her fill them out! He rushed over to the room, but by the time he got there she was all ready gone. Angrily he shuts it off and shoos the people outside away.

---

Afe floated around town square when he heard the message from Lucille. His ears perked at the idea.

"Feels different this time..."

"What feels different?" A small whirlwind of rose petals float around Afe as Rocky appears. "Oh, you seem very familiar."

Afe blinks and stares at the strange sparkling man.

"I feel a deep, dark warmth!"

He floats closer to Rocky and attempts to swat at the sparkles.

SPOILER: Click to show

Jack and Rocky fight over who is in charge. Rocky puts Town Hall over lock down. The arguing continues until the two overhear the broadcast system and they split up.

Jack goes to put a stop to the broadcast.

Rocky meets up with Afe in Town Square, both responding to Lucille's call.

[Gelquie]

It seemed that everyone around her was disturbed by the events, Kylie noted as she walked. A pall had fallen over the town, with everyone muttering darkly among themselves, and everyone having a certain fear in their eyes. All except for the mafiosos, who now lorded over them... And it seemed that another ghost had entered the mix, laughing at them... Mocking them. Even as one of the mafiosos began to argue among them... Kylie turned away. No. Business had to be attended to... If the rest of the town was going to survive. If they didn't... Well, she knew what would happen if they didn't.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

Kylie faltered at the sudden sound coming from the loudspeakers.

"Good morning Aifam Cove indeed," came a sudden voice from the townhall. The broadcast system. And... Lucille. It was Lucille. And she was giving a warning to Winter's Wrath... The mafia who won. Lucille promising to defeat them, to fight them, to spark an on-going war with them. And that nothing would stop Lucille now.

Nothing... Right. Lucille was free now. Free from mortal chains... Forever.

Soon, Lucille finished. "Any townspeople or ghosts who wish to join me, you are welcome to. I know you do not wish to live under these murderers. Kylie, do not despair. I'll be your guardian angel. Winter's Wrath...I'm back,[bleep]s. I hope you're ready."

Kylie could only stare at the watch tower as the communication cut off. Lucille, promising to protect her, to be her guardian angel as she brought forth the revolution... It was such a charming thing she said. Devoted, strong, brave, so quick to help those who need it... There was truly no one like Lucille. No one as wonderful as her.

No one that wonderful deserved to die.

And yet... She had. Only existing now as a ghost, dead in her own dedication to protect her. And perhaps if Kylie never needed protecting in the first place, if Kylie had been strong enough to have stood on her own... Lucille might have still been alive. Lucille never deserved to die. It...

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Kylie shut her eyes tightly before turning her head away from the tower, trying to ignore the sounds of the soft static, some dripping sound, and bustle about her, but taking a look at the crowd to see how they reacted to Lucille. But she didn't get far before her eyes laid upon the sight of Nathan and Bea, interlocking their fingers together. There was an intensely uncomfortable look on the latter's face, one that may have been hidden to others, but Kylie knew her mother too well to not know that she was hiding something. Still, Kylie could only stare, confused. After all Nathan had done to them, had done to her...

Kylie tilted her head and tried to make eye contact with Bea, but eventually, the crowd got in the way. Kylie knew she had to keep moving, if she wanted the rest of the town to survive. But she knew she had to talk to Bea soon regardless. And then after all of this was over, and the Mafia's first demands were met...

Well. Kylie didn't know what she would do. Other than hide herself away with her thoughts. Too much was going on already... She needed to think.

SPOILER: Click to show

Kylie is simultaneously heartened by Lucille's speech and disheartened by the very present reminder of Lucille's death. She then turns her head and witnesses Bea very hesitantly interlocking hands with Nathan. Kylie is utterly confused, and tries to make eye contact with Bea, but can't get past the crowd. She goes with the crowd because Big Mafia is watching you, but hopes to get to Bea soon. She resolves to leave herself time alone to think after Morty's death.

[Jayeee]

“You'll have to arrange that yourself, Richem. Now if you'll all excuse me... I have a class to teach.”

Travis cheered after Juan had left. “Sweet, you guys know what that means, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he called, “House party at Juan's!”

He rested his head on Elizabeth's shoulder. “I bet Juan's stockpiled the wine, let's all get trashed and go on a murder binge or something.” Travis was excited by the idea. “Hey, I don't know where Juan lives – but I guess he teaches the kids Greek or something at the school right? I say we totally crash that party instead!”

"Mr. Richem... Thank you...?"

Travis saluted the boy. “You're welcome, little bro. Glad to see you finally recognise me as the true star of this place. I think-”

He was cut off by Janice, who reappeared and began conversing with Markus. Travis tried to follow the conversation, but he grew bored partway through. There was just a lot of shouting.

And then he heard Rachel's voice. “Rachel,” he screamed out, as her voice blared out through the set. “Rachel, don't take the loss of our darling Oliver out on this town! WE CAN MAKE A NEW ONE!”

He shook his head, but inside he was simply gleeful. Maybe she'd come after him and they could have a big fight. Neither of them would be able to hit each other, and she would end up sobbing in his arms, apologising for putting him through such hardship.

“I happen to know, from experience, ways to kill ghosts. Since you are all alive now, you take care of the living. I shall take care of the dead.”

Travis couldn't help but grin. It just kept getting better. Now Juan's girlfriend was going to fight his girlfriend, and the winner would get both of the men. He couldn't wait to tell Juan the news.

He glanced over at Jason and Fiona. “Fiona, you want in on this action? Add some mud and a couple of bikinis and we'll have one hell of a show.”

And Janice throwing salt at Juan's girlfriend made four. “That Janice is totally unstable,” he muttered to Elizabeth. “How did you even work with her? I'm surprised she didn't tell everybody about what you were doing – that woman just cannot keep her mouth shut. It's a nice quality sometimes. Maybe it's because of the fling we had a few months back, now she just can't shut up about anything. Think I dislodged her brain or something.”

"SNIPE HUNT. I LEFT SNIPE HUNT ON THE BEACH."

Travis recoiled in surprise, flinging his arm from around Susie's shoulder as she shouted so suddenly. “Snipe Hunt? Is that like your knife or something?” He nodded his head in approval. “That's a pretty solid calling card for that thing. And speaking of solid, I call mine Travis Junior.”

He wrapped his arm around Susie's shoulder again. “No worries, girlfriend, you can just steal a new one. Can't leave now, not when the party's just getting started.”

All the talk of parties was giving Travis even more ideas. “Guys, I'd like to motion that we all sleep in one giant bed at the apartment. Think of the fun we could have being in such close quarters. The seven of us, Fiona, Juan's sweetheart, Rachel, Tiffany.

“Besides, we've gotta spend all our time together for my next plan: let's reenact this gig in musical form!” It would be perfect – Travis had a wonderful singing voice, and it could be yet another genre leap. After all, who else could possibly boast a reality television show, with sitcom, musical and thriller elements? It was brilliant. He could see it now – the new career pack skipping down Main Street, singing in all their glory. “We can call it Aifamside Story – featuring Travis.” He snapped his fingers wildly. “It'll be like Grease only better and more realistic. We're going to have so much fun together!”

SPOILER: Click to show

Travis suggests they have a house party at Juan's since he left to teach, and is excited at the thought of his and Juan's girlfriends fighting over the chance to be with both of them. He approves of Susie's naming choice for her knife and then suggests not only that they all share a bed in the new apartment, but also that they perform a musical re-enactment of their recent accomplishments.

[Sporty]

The Day Before

Time seemed to freeze, if only for a moment. Morty found his footing and scurried off again, but he wasn't the only one. A good chunk of the mob, upon seeing her transformation, screamed and scattered. Even Leo on his motorcycle wailed and spun away -- Melanie had managed to frighten a ghost with her alternate form.

But the rest of the crowd was still agitated, still out for blood. They seemed distracted from her by the escape of their original quarry, but she didn't dare wonder how long that would last. In those moments of hesitation, as shouts for the burger man's head began to rise up again, adrenaline flooded Melanie's blood and an instinct to survive took over her brain.

And Melanie ran.

*  *  *  *  *

The wolf plodded mechanically through the forest to the north of Aifam. The dense woods provided not only a deep and natural hiding place, but a kind of solace for her in this form, and she hadn't left it since her accidental transformation during the chase.

Yet now, that sense of freedom that the forest always promised had been overridden by a single thought, a sickening mantra that she couldn't shake from her mind no matter how much she ran or how many creatures she watched and hunted.

They know. They know. They know they know they knowtheyknowtheyknow.

What did the others think of her now? Surely some of her neighbors and friends would be accepting -- Evan was, and had even agreed to keep her secret back when it was one -- but were there others now, who would consider her as bad as any mafia, would fear or hate her? Werewolves weren't generally known for their sensitivity and restraint. And if not that, would they hate her for keeping herself secret from the town? How long would it be until they took care of Morty and turned their attention to the wolf in their midst?

Melanie happened to glance up then, and realized with a start that she had wandered back to the southern border of the forest. The sounds of the town could just be picked up from here, especially with her enhanced hearing. Her ears perked at the sound of a voice coming over the emergency broadcast system.

"Fear me, Winter's Wrath, as winter fears the sun in the heaven. No walls, no shackles, nothing on this earth can stop me. My death will prove your undoing. Any townspeople or ghosts who wish to join me, you are welcome to. I know you do not wish to live under these murderers. Kylie, do not despair. I'll be your guardian angel. Winter's Wrath...I'm back,[bleep]s. I hope you're ready."

Something in Melanie's blood stirred at that -- something that had been wearing away ever since Piper and Bardsley's betrayals and then snuffed out altogether in the failed hunt for Morty. She remembered the mafia and the crisis and the very thing that had kept the mob from turning against her, and suddenly her personal worries seemed pitiful in comparison.

I am a werewolf. I am a shapeshifting beast of the night, but more than that I am an intelligent one, one with purpose. If these disgusting murderers must take the town, then at least they will not take it with ease and comfort.

Sister Lucille was not the only one for this Winter's Wrath to fear. Melanie would make sure of it.

*  *  *  *  *

She slunk along the shadows of buildings, still in her wolf form. It didn't really matter which shape she took now, and with the lower build and enhanced hearing this one was easier to stay out of sight in. From the nearby street, panicked townspeople were grimly hunting after Morty or simply bemoaning their fate.

It would not do to reveal herself to the mafia just yet, so Melanie kept to the shadows with her eyes and ears open.

SPOILER: Click to show

Just after Melanie's accidental reveal, she panics and flees to the forest to hide in fear and shame. She stays there until the next morning, when she happens to pass close enough to the town to overhear Lucille's call to arms. Stirred back into action, she resolves to join the resistance and goes looking for Lucille and the others who will be answering her call.

[Rosalie Dylas (Maddy)]

"I'm not a cannibal and neither are you!--"

"L-liar!" He yelled at her, "H-how could you say that you-" Wait. No. This was Alma, not Nelly. Alma who showed him her fish, Alma who had been there during that horrible movie, Alma who was a murderer. Not Nelly, not the woman who's voice had sounded so sweet, who had cared about him, and then left him. Was there a difference? Alma, Nelly, they were basically the same person weren't they? They were both mothers. Mothers always lie. Mothers always use you.

He didn't want his mother, he wanted Dakota. Dakota had been there when he was all alone. Dakota cared about him, actually cared about him. Dakota wasn't a mother. They weren't a liar.

"Christopher, please--I'm different! You're like the son I never had! I love y--"

"DON'T" He screamed, trembling, "Don't say that! Take it back! Take it back!" She was lying! She was lying! She didn't mean that! Not really. She was just going to leave. And he wouldn't care, she was a murderer. He hated her. She shouldn't love him, she shouldn't say things like that. "Please, take it back." he begged.

Christopher didn't know about the ghost talking to Alma but her voice was awful. Christopher had never found a voice so horrible. He felt slightly bad about thinking it was terrible but he couldn't help it. There was just something wrong about her voice.

“Christopher!”

He felt- really felt- Cheryl's hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, face stained with ghostly tears. Her voice was just a warm and calming as ever. Cheryl wasn't a mother, Cheryl wasn't a liar.

“I’m so sorry, Chris.”

"I-I" he tried to respond but he couldn't. It was ok, just keep talking Cheryl. And don't leave. He didn't want to be alone.

”Christopher, get out of here before she does anything to you! I want you safe!"

Alma had stepped in front of him, trying to protect him. What did it matter anyway? He leaned in closer to Cheryl. He was terrified of the ghost with a horrible voice. What could she do to him? He probably deserved whatever she did but it still didn't make him less scared.

“This way,” Cheryl said to Mick. “Christopher...let’s get out of here.” She hoped the ghost was ready to follow.

"Y-yeah" he mumbled. He looked at the members of the mafia one last time. They weren't bad people. They couldn't be bad people.

Then he looked at Nelly- no Alma, that was Alma, and felt something. Pain? Grief? Pity? Hate?

"Good bye" he whispered before following Cheryl away from town square.

SPOILER: Click to show

Christopher follows Cheryl to safety.

[Celestial]

Pallada screamed. The salt fell through her, tearing apart her ghostly form as it did. Bits of her drifted off like strips of cloth and disintegrated in the air. She let go of Alma, stepping away as the pain hit her. She had been blindsighted and she forgot just how much it hurt. While it was not as bad as when she was a revenant, it was still painful enough to make her lose control, even for a brief second.

"You...you're lucky you're still with them. If you ever leave, I will hunt you down. I will hunt you down, you traitor, and you will pay. You and your children," Pallada hissed as she glared at Alma. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she also saw Fluffle and Mick but that was ridiculous. There was no way anybody could know that she was out, much less in Aifam. But if it was truly Fluffle and Mick, well, they better watch out. After the salt, Pallada wanted nothing more than to cause somebody else pain.

Finally, the pain had eased and Diana straightened up but her smile was gone, replaced by anger. She glared as the idiot, Travis, prattled on about some moronic TV show he was going to create. He reminded her of that moronic Python from Wafflenet, and well, she smirked as she remembered how he ended. She could always kill him in that way if he got too annoying, which he probably would. He seemed like his sort of idiot and she was willing to bet that he had never picked up a book in his life. He was worthless.

But for now, she could let him be. After all, this was a day of victory, despite the salt that had been thrown in her face. A bright new era had dawned, a critical moment which could be pointed to begin it, although there really was no such thing and everything was a culmination of events so she could possibly go back and pinpoint several other critical moments which led up to this...the reality was that the mafia had taken over. Eventually, everyone who opposed them would fall. There was a counter-revolution but they were heavily out-numbered and out-gunned. The underdog rarely won.

"I have things to attend to. Don't worry, I'll take care of your ghost problem...and your traitor problem," she growled to the mafiosos before disappearing from view. As she did, she glimpsed Mick and Fluffle again. So they were here...but they were not worth her time. Eventually, they had to go back. They could not stay in this town long.

Pallada smirked and headed towards the post office. Either way, perhaps it was high time she told Julie she was alive. It was polite to let a friend know when you had crawled your way out of hell and perhaps, once Mick and Fluffle went home, she could take care of them. The thought made Pallada smile. While she was not going to be so petty as to seek pointless revenge, instead continue her work here, there was no reason others could not.

------

After the broadcast, Lucille pondered where to go. She wanted to go to the sqaure, to see if she had any potential allies there but with the mafia there, it seemed like a poor idea. At the same time, however, she could not know who would be fighting with her unless she saw the situation with her own eyes.

"[bleep] it," Lucille became invisible and hovered over the rooftops back towards the square. She was just in time to see another ghost leave but she did not recognise her as one of the townspeople. However, it did not matter. She could deal with that ghost later, right now she had the townspeople to see to.

Most of them had already left but one caught Lucille's eye: Bea. She looked so miserable standing there with Nathan. No doubt she knew who Nathan was but even so, she had her fingers intertwined with his. What was going on...unless Nathan was coercing her in some way?

She hovered closer, staying invisible, until she was almost by Bea's ear.

"This is not forever. We'll overthrown them. Until them, keep yourself and Kylie safe. But I'll take care of Kylie," she smiled. "Besides, here, you're in the best place to stab him in the back when all this is over."

With that, Lucille drifted away from Bea, hoping that she would hold on. Bea never did have the strongest consitution but nevertheless, she had faith in her to look out for her family and not give in. It was in the most testing times that one saw who they were truly and Bea was not going to be alone.

She left the square as quickly as she could before any other mafiosos twigged to her presense, even though she was sure she was invisible. Lucille thought about who next to talk to. But the only person who came into her head was Cheryl: she had kept her head in the theatre and she was definitely innocent. While Lucille had not liked Cheryl snooping around everywhere and getting far too close to her operation sometimes, now they had a common enemy. Besides, Lucille did not have any more operation to speak of anyway. There was nothing Cheryl could do to her and everything she could do with her. But it was best they discuss it somewhere the mafia would not hear them. She flew past Cheryl.

As she drifted towards the studio, Lucille frowned as she saw a wolf stalking through the streets. This was...unusual. Yes, they had all sorts of creatures around here but the thing about the wolf was that it had human eyes. Eyes that she was sure she had seen before.

Melanie Porter! Lucille had barely interacted with her before but she had seen her around. Though what she was doing as a wolf was anybody's guess. But she was not mafia at least and she seemed to have the same thought as Lucille, given that she was heading towards the news studio.

She appeared in front of Melanie and smiled down at her.

"Ms. Porter, is it? At least, I hope it is, otherwise I'll feel very stupid talking to just a wolf. It seems like we're heading in the same direction. Did you hear what I said? And if so, would you stand beside me? You look like you're ready to fight," Lucille turned around and quickened her pace. "Follow me then."

She floated through the doors of the studio, looking around for somebody until she found Pratchett and another person, Ris, that was the girl's name. Lucille became visible in front of them and smiled.

"I'm sure you've heard. Ms. Lewis will be here in a few moments. When she appears, I want to speak with her. Specifically, I want her help in fighting," she smiled. "I need living allies to fight living enemies. And I believe a reporter will be a very useful ally indeed. You get your noses in all sorts of places. This could work to our advantage."

SPOILER: Click to show

Pallada is in great pain from the salt Alma threw at her. She swears revenge and Travis begins grating on her nerves but she does not let such minor things get in the way of the fact that this is a joyous day. She goes to the post office to recover and send a letter to Julie.

Lucille returns to the square and tells Bea to not give up and eventually stab Nathan in the back. She then flies past Cheryl, deciding to discuss things in the studio. On the way she encounters who she thinks must be Melanie and asks her if she wants to fight. She arrives at the studio and tells Pratchett that she needs living allies.

[Liou]

The town had really let itself go, thought Leo. Sure, there was the whole death problem that had affected many people, and the whole evil septumvirate takeover, but that was no excuse not to take care of one's style. Why, it was as if the Aifam Covers had no time to look after their appearance anymore! Leo itched to swoop down on people and fix their hair, but they seemed far too distracted. Maybe he could appear in their mirrors later on and give makeup advice.
The mafiosi were definitely not setting the right example. They looked so scruffy, with an awful complexion. If Leo had come back from the dead by whichever means those guys had used, he would at least have had the decency to clean up for his grand return to life!
Bardsley's hair didn't count. It was fake. It didn't come from the heart.
Even Travis didn't look as stunning as usual. He was only quite radiant today. Leo was disappointed. So disappointed that he might not try to sneak into that after-party.

In order to make up for the town's inelegance, Leo had made sure to put extra special care into his own appearance. His sparkles were at full power, perfectly dazzling thanks to the night he had spent in prayer. His hair stood above his head in one of its most precarious constructions ever, fanning out like wings, with a few actual feathers. His longer, wavy locks floated behind him at their own rhythm, unaffected by the wind. He had stopped by his salon to create a ghostly outfit based on his material wardrobe. Shades, tight pants, gloves, expensive high-heeled boots, and a grand high-collared coat which billowed behind him. At least one person would look good in Aifam.

He wasn't sure what he was doing in this town anymore. He was pleased to have figured out who the true innocents were, but what could be done for them now? Leo had not paid much attention to the drama occurring around the mafiosi after they had revealed their faces. He could only hope that the remaining townspeople would be able to break from their influence.
So many strong hearts had fallen. There was no point in staying as a powerless ghost. He should just let one of the innocents know about his remaining weapons, before disappearing.
Once again, he was saved from his mental slump by a voice that came from above.

"Ahem. Good morning Aifam Cove indeed. Some of you may recognise me, of course, and yes, I am technically dead. But we all know, death is hardly final and especially for me as I am on a mission from the Lord 'Woo himself."

Leo's mouth slowly spread into a grin. He may have lost hope and forgotten his purpose, but of course the Lord 'Woo would never give up on him. Since Sister Lucille had joined his fluffy bosom, the wise 'Woo had chosen to use her voice to lift Leo's spirits. But for a voice in his head, she sounded strangely... crackly, and interspersed with static from time to time. She was also addressing different people. Leo gasped and floated onto the street, lighting it up with his sparkling presence. The voice was really coming from the speakers. She was back!

He didn't think that she would stay at the town hall for too long. Where would her supporters meet?
As he drifted towards the town hall, he spotted Melanie Porter's enormous hound near the studio. He was about to make a wide detour around it, then he finally remembered that he was a GHOST, of course. Dogs could do amazing things, but he didn't think they could bite ghosts! He hoped they couldn't. He cautiously floated closer, looking for Melanie herself.

"Strange... where's your owner, buddy? You did great in the Murty-hunt yesterday, but I thought Miss Porter would have reappeared by now. Well, you seem to be doing fine, so she can't be too far. Hope she's okay..."

He gasped when Lucille arrived and shrank away, somewhat shyly. "You're really baaack," he squealed. His hero, his guide, the symbol of all that was good and delicious in town!
He immediately dabbed at his face. He didn't know what kind of effect ghost tears had on ghost makeup, but he didn't want to take any risks with them.
"Miss Porter? Are you saying that she's..."
Leo was stumped. The possibility hadn't even occurred to him, well, it had, but of course he hadn't considered something so silly. Yet here was Sister Lucille, who had guided him to his faith and provided him with the fluid of life, speaking to the wolf.
"My apologies, Miss Porter! I didn't, um, recognise you there. My, you HAVE changed your style! A bit scruffy, but I like it. You seem... adventurous!"

"Sister Lucille! I'm right behind you." Leo checked his grandiose appearance, made sure that every inch of his hair glittered, and floated into the studio, posing in front of every camera he saw, regardless of whether or not it was working.

Once Lucille had spoken to Pratchett and Ris, he greeted them with an elaborate bow.
"I am so relieved to see that some people are still fighting on the right side. There are weapons in my salon. I can find you the right keys. A few guns and assorted goods in the basement, and some grenades camouflaged as hair spray bottles in my room. I might have a spare bulletproof vest, too. I didn't dare entrust them to anyone, and I'm afraid that was a terrible mistake, as they might have saved a few lives." His voice had dropped. He sighed. "These weapons must not fall into the mafia's hands. I hope they can help this team. Miss Lewis also seems to be protecting a few more young people."

SPOILER: Click to show

Leo hears Lucille's voice as a sign from Lord 'Woo, decides not to give up, does not recognise Melanie in wolf form, fangirls over Lucille, recognises Melanie, and tells Lucille about the weapons at his place.

[Birdy]

Bardsley had just left for Prettyboy college, to teach his classes. (My, my, were THOSE students going to be in for a surprise…)

And no sooner had he left than Travis spoke up.

“Sweet, you guys know what that means, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he called, “House party at Juan's!”

Hints of a smile twitched around Hermia’s mouth.

“I could actually arrange that,” she said carefully. “I do happen to know where he lives, after all…” she glanced across the town square, towards Boulder Point Street. Yes, the Professor’s house was very nearby…

But to enter would be suicide. (Even if they could just blame Travis. )

And then, there was a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her vague plans to break into Bardsley’s house.

"Wait...we can't really be doing this....The whole town?" Alma was asking.

“It appears so,” Hermia replied. “They seem convinced the seven of us can unstoppably rule an entire town of a few hundred people.”

And then… Christopher.

"I... I don't hate you,” he was saying.

“I could never hate you either, dear,” Alma whispered in reply . “You don't understand...I had to...my family depended on me...”

Family. Something in the back of Hermia’s mind twinged at that, but she pushed it away. She couldn’t afford to think about that now.

But what Christopher said to Alma obviously had an impact. She turned back to the mafia and faced them.

“I've helped you already,” she said. “I'm leaving. I have nothing more to offer you.”

Hermia started. Alma, leaving? She shot a glance to the others. They wouldn’t like this. Would they let her?

Hermia listened as Alma spoke with the young spectre before her. (Hadn’t Alma introduced her as her daughter? …Oh, sweet ‘Woo, she was dead?)

The girl turned into mist – into a breeze – and tried to reassure Alma. But then… Christopher. All this was apparently too much for him, though Hermia found she couldn’t fully blame him. He was so young, after all...

"I hate you, I hate you." he sobbed, "I hate you Alma. I HATE YOU!"

Hermia couldn’t help but cringe. She knew Alma had become close to Christopher during all this… tried to protect him and be there. This betrayal… it couldn’t be good for either of them.

“I know, child,” she murmured, her face streaming with tears.

“Alma…” Hermia started, unsure what to say after Christopher’s outburst. “I…”

Whatever she was trying to come up with, she never got the chance to say it; because just then, that other ghost – the new one – approached Alma and thrust her fingers into the living woman’s throat, accusing her of being a traitor.

Hermia wanted to say something, to defend Alma – after all, she herself was a traitor. She’d played both mafias from the start – she’d betrayed one of her own teammates, led the Chill to kill her, though she despised having to do so… If betraying a teammate wasn’t cowardly and traitorous, what was? But the things that ghost – Dr. Pallada – was saying… they made Hermia shudder. As much as she wanted to speak up, to defend Alma… she found herself unable to utter a word in her defense.

"Not my daughter, you fish!" Alma shouted, reaching into her pockets and flinging salt at the offending ghost.

…Not that Alma needed defending. A similar image – Alma throwing an entire popcorn cart at a ghost – flitted though Hermia’s mind. No, Alma could certainly take care of herself.

She shouted at Lynna, and Christopher – telling them to run, to hide. She turned to the rest of her mafiosos and glared at them. "You want me to stay? Fine, I will. But that doesn't mean we have to like each other."

Hermia couldn’t help but agree – some of the others were rather… trying. She grimaced at the memory of all the meetings involving Travis Richem she’d had to endure. Though his sudden death had certainly been a shock, she had to admit that meetings certainly were quieter after that.

“Hermia, you have family, don't you?” Alma was asking. “You get it. You get why I had to do that.” Alma pointed at Dr. Pallada. “I'm telling you, dearie, she had it coming.”

“I—” Hermia’s voice caught. “I—” The feelings she’d tried to push away earlier came back.

Family.

That’s why she’d done this, wasn’t it? To help her family?

After her father had— had died… there were just so many bills… Hospital bills, funeral bills… And to add bank loans on top of that…

They’d had to sell practically everything. Their house, their car… the automobile mechanic business her dad had built from scratch, with his own hands… all gone.

Because of money…

She’d tried to do things honestly – ‘Woo knew how hard she’d tried. She’d worked whatever jobs she could – sometimes multiple jobs, even – to try and help bring in something… But then with her own loans, from college…

Everything had gotten to be too much.

She still tried to do things honestly. But then, after she’d moved to Aifam Cove… she heard of the mafia. It seemed like a good idea at the time. A way to earn some money on the side, to help settle some debts…

And then when there turned out to be two of them?

The temptation had been too great, despite all the risks.

Double the mafia meant double the money.

Double the money meant debt-free twice as fast.

That is why she’d joined.

Like Alma, she just wanted to protect her family. To care for her mother, to settle those debts…

She shook her head, trying to clear it.

“Yes,” Hermia said, looking at Alma. “I understand perfectly. Family is far too precious to ignore, to… to take for granted…”

If she was going to continue that thought, she didn’t get the chance. For then, the loudspeakers blared to life, and a voice – the voice of the recently-killed nun – came through then loud and clear.

"Winter's Wrath, savour your victory but know that you will never take what we do not want to give you. You have brought the town to its knees but we are not defeated. I am coming for you. You don't have to die to be defeated and I am going to defeat you. Me and everyone else in this town who is willing to fight and they are. They fought you to the bitter end and they will keep fighting. This is the opening shot in the war I am going to lead against you. I have several lifetimes of sins to redeem myself for and I am going to do it. Fear me, Winter's Wrath, as winter fears the sun in the heaven. No walls, no shackles, nothing on this earth can stop me. My death will prove your undoing."

Hermia couldn’t help but smile at something Sister Erata had said.

Winter might fear the sun in the northern hemisphere, but in the southern hemisphere, well.

Winter was all sunshine and warmth.

It all depended on one’s perspective.

Winter came in many, many forms… it would be harder than that to make them fear a disembodied voice.

"SNIPE HUNT," came the sudden yelp, jarring Hermia out of her geographical musings. "I LEFT SNIPE HUNT ON THE BEACH."

Travis recoiled in surprise, flinging his arm from around Susie's shoulder as she shouted so suddenly. “Snipe Hunt? Is that like your knife or something?” He nodded his head in approval. “That's a pretty solid calling card for that thing. And speaking of solid, I call mine Travis Junior.”

He wrapped his arm around Susie's shoulder again. “No worries, girlfriend, you can just steal a new one. Can't leave now, not when the party's just getting started.”

And then he began spouting another one of his “great ideas”… namely all of them sleeping on one giant bed. Hermia nearly gagged at the thought. (And then he was going on about a musical? Hermia stifled a groan. Why had they agreed to revive him again…?)

She turned to Piper with an offer:

“I’ll distract him, you run?”

SPOILER: Click to show

No sooner than Bardsley leaves, than Travis plots to break into his house and throw a party. Hermia comments this could be possible, since she knows where the professor lives. Thankfully, this plan is disrupted by the arrival of Alma.

Alma and Hermia speak briefly, but Alma is soon distracted by speaking with Christopher.

As Diana Pallada calls Alma a traitor, Hermia gets upset, though can't seem to speak up in Alma's defense. (After all, Hermia is known to be a traitor too. )

Alma asks Hermia if she understands why she's done all this - for family, right? Hermia does understand - she understands very well. She considers this as she remembers why she joined the mafias.

She hears the declaration of war, and is amused at Sister Lucille's comment about winter fearing the sun, since. you know. in some hemispheres winder IS sunny and warm. (Nyah, nyah!)

Then Piper freaks about Snipe Hunt, and Hermia offers to distract Travis so Piper and escape and recover her camera.


((Apologies if things are a bit out of continuity... There was a lot to reply to so I tried my best. >.>; ))