Mafia The Third: The Seaside Town of Aifam Cove

[PFA]

"...And, of course, with the collapse of society, it becomes easy for an outside force to rebuild it from the ground up as they see fit." Professor Bardsley looked up from his notes, smiling at the students. "Any questions?"

At first, the class was silent. This was... what kind of lesson was this? Had Professor Bardsley really just recited the events of the past week to them in the form of... some kind of an objective study? He may have used ambiguous wording, but that sure sounded like what he was talking about. Surely he had to realize it. Was this on purpose? Was he trying to make them all suffer? He was a confirmed mafia member...

Finally, someone had the courage to raise their hand. Professor Bardsley turned to the student in question. "Yes, Jordan?"

"So, like, are we talking about Aifam Cove here, or what?" Jordan asked.

Professor Bardsley chuckled, apparently amused by the question. "Good observation. Aifam Cove is a good example of this phenomenon, yes."

"Uh, so like, I have to ask," Jordan continued. "Does this mean the mafia is in charge now, or what?"

"Ah, yes. I suppose you all missed the announcement," Professor Bardsley realized. "Yes, this town is under the rule of Winter's Wrath now. But don't worry, students: I assure you, you have nothing to fear." He gave another one of his eerily serene smiles. "As long as you don't do anything... rash... you'll be perfectly safe."

No one dared respond to that. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Professor Bardsley returned his attention to his notes.

"Now then," he said. "Shall we continue with the lesson?"

"...You're insane, Bardsley."

Where the silence before was uncomfortable, the silence now was downright choking. The students began to panic. What was Jordan thinking, saying that? How was Professor Bardsley going to respond? Would he kill Jordan? Would he kill someone else?

"...Please don't use that word," Professor Bardsley eventually replied, his otherwise pleasant voice dripping with venom. "The correct term for what I am is 'sociopathic.' There's a difference, you know."

Jordan considered replying, telling him that no, there really wasn't, but decided better of it. Arguing with the teacher—especially if that teacher was in the mafia—was clearly not a good idea. It apparently was a sore topic, as well, which... Jordan didn't particularly want to dwell on why that was.

Casually, as if nothing had happened, Professor Bardsley continued his lesson. However, in the back of his mind, he had to wonder: why hadn't Dr. Jenson returned with Cassidy yet?

Where was Cassidy?

SPOILER: Click to show

Professor Bardsley teaches a very inspiring lesson about society collapsing in on itself, making the students uncomfortable. One student gets brave enough to call him out for it, to which Bardsley replies with veiled threats. As the lesson continues, Bardsley wonders where Cassidy is.

[Avery]

They found him around noontime: hiding like a wounded animal in the empty husk of the Aifam School, which was closed for winter break. His brother-in-law Err was gone—“went back home,” grumbled a tired, hungry Morty when the mob finally spied him, sitting at a classroom desk.

He looked exhausted. His always-greasy hair was unkempt, his skin pale. Though his messenger bag full of weapons was within reach, he did not grab for anything. He simply stared at the encroaching crowd, dejected and defeated.

“They won, didn’t they?” he rasped.

The mob didn’t respond, but simply grabbed him. They marched him into the cold winter’s afternoon and back to the town square, and gaped in awe at the new flag that flapped upon the flagpole. That blood red background, harsh against the steely grey sky.

“Very impressive,” crooned Professor Bardsley as Morty was dropped at the mafiosos’ feet. Morty fell to his knees, staring grimly at the professor, who’d come back to town after teaching his morning class. In fact, all the mafiosos who’d wandered off during the hunt had since reunited, all seven of them standing in solidarity.

“How…” Morty breathed as he looked at Bardsley—alive, vibrant, and leering. “Are you—but you were—“

“Dead?” finished Bardsley. “Indeed I was. But now I am alive once again, as I should be. And soon you will be dead, as you should be—for what you did to Lindsey—for what you did to me.” His tone was pure venom. He turned to glance at Nathan. “The knife?” he said silkily.

Nathan pulled out the knife that he’d used to kill Dakota earlier (he’d since wiped away the mortician’s blood, and its blade glinted beneath the pale winter sun). He offered it to Bardsley, and the professor accepted it as one might accept a baby: lovingly, sweetly. He stroked the handle and turned it over in his hand, as if to get a feel for it. Once he was satisfied, he looked back down at Morty, grinning. Then, he turned to address the crowd.

“Let this serve as a lesson of what happens when you fight back!” he cried. “Let his blood flow as payment for the blood that flowed from Lindsey’s throat, and from mine!”

As Bardsley talked, Travis Richem grabbed onto Morty’s hair and used it as leverage to jerk back the man’s head—exposing his neck for easier cutting. Travis was smiling from ear to ear and whispering to himself, though about what, the crowd couldn’t hear over the roar of Bardsley’s voice. They could only watch, stomachs flipping, as Bardsley positioned himself in front of Morty and raised the knife.

And then—

Then it was over. All the build-up, all the searching, all the anger, ended in a single slash. Morty slumped over, dead. Bardsley, grinning even more broadly now, turned back to the crowd. He held the knife out towards them, revealing its wet, dripping blade.

“Remember this blood,” he said to them. “Because for anyone who disobeys us… it shall be your blood staining this knife next. But if you cooperate…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

The town square was silent, and so very, very cold.

SPOILER: Click to show

This round will stay up for another few days, after which I'll post an epilogue that takes place six months later. So if you've anything that needs to be resolved for your character in the immediate future, do so soon!

[Ian Wolf-Park]

“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?” Evan smiled.

"Well, since you were the owner of an antiques store, you should know which items are fragile and/or heavy. Label them for me, it will make things easier. And you are right, with times like these, it's better to be discreet about your activities rather than being rash."

As Anna flew off to inspect the various antiques, Evan sat on his step again and took out his pipe so that he could think.

"From what I gathered, Professor Bardsley seems to be the unofficial leader of Winter's Wrath, but since there are seven members, one being insane, they'll self-destruct in some way eventually as all of them will be hungry for power or for another reason. When that happens, it's going to be bloody with the infighting. I definitely do not want to be there when that happens," he thought to himself. "Definitely not worth the risk of convincing them to run for mayor, as tempting as it sounds."

SPOILER: Click to show

Evan gives Anna instructions. He wanted to convince the mafia to run for mayor, but decides was not worth the risk.

[Sporty]

It was unfortunate (though perhaps not in this case) that ghosts didn't generally make noise unless they wanted. Leo's spirit came from behind Melanie, startling her as he began to speak.

"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..."

Melanie blinked. So Leo hadn't seen her transform, and just thought that she was a big dog? She was trying to decide how to respond when Sister Lucille's ghost literally appeared in front of her, making her jump.

"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."

Melanie grinned, suddenly a bit proud to be showing her sharp fangs. "You've guessed right, Sister Lucille," she replied. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to bring this mafia down."

Then Leo addressed her again. "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!"

Melanie couldn't help but chuckle at that; Leo was too kind.

As the two ghosts phased through the door, Melanie went up on her hind legs to push it open and walked in after them. Her two-legged stance in this shape was stable enough, but it was more awkward for her to move and she followed them a bit slowly. Even so, she didn't think to shift back to human form until after the three had met up with those already in the studio. She would be joining the fight in her wolf form, that was certain... but it would be easier to plan when she could speak clearly and easily handle any tools they might need.

SPOILER: Click to show

Melanie is startled by the appearances of Leo and Lucille, but gladly informs them that she's joining the resistance. She follows them into the studio and shifts back to human form after meeting up with Pratchett and friends.

[Gelquie]

((A WARNING: This post is going to talk about suicide in no uncertain terms. If you want the basic gist of what happened without risking anything, just read the summary. There is a reference there, but it's tamer.))

Kylie could only watch the scene in silence as the mafiosos dragged the knife across Morty's throat. Morty, who despite his delusions, had been most zealous about finding and killing the mafia, about giving them justice, was now at the other end of the mafioso he had found. He was volatile before, with plenty of reason to be afraid of him, but now... Now he looked pathetic.

The Mafia made him that way.

Kylie wanted to believe that Lucille could help stop them, stop all of this. But... At the same time, Kylie knew what they had done already. And then with the scene with Morty... What more could they do? What more could she do herself?

...What had she ever really done to prevent this?

Kylie was among the first to turn away, and she ran back to the inn, ignoring everyone and everything around her. She didn't want to look at them. Didn't want to see them. But...

Mostly, she just wanted to be alone right now.

Kylie didn't even stop to do any of her chores at the inn, not even looking at the horses as she walked from door to door in the inn, until she reached her apartment and then finally her room. Once there, she slammed the door behind her and then let herself fall onto the bed.

For a long time, that was all she did, other than shift herself so that her entire body was on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and think about... Everything. She mulled to herself, everything around her completely silent, minus a soft dripping that Kylie chose to ignore.

If the Mafia was true to their word, then sure, maybe the killings would stop if they did nothing. There would be no more deaths. But what did that really mean now? They were now living under the shadow of the Mafia, each of them breathing down their necks, ensuring things ran their way, and that no one rose against the murderers. And it'd last a lifetime. If they died, they'd just hound them as ghosts. And they said they could come back, and they proved it. And even if it wasn't them, there would be more to take their place. Admirers, whatever children they may eventually have... Someone. And with there being no way to run from it and no way to call for help without risking the lives of the entire town...

Sure, they were alive. But their freedom was gone. Bea had stuck with Nathan, and it seemed to be out of fear... Fear for herself, her whole family? Kylie didn't know. But Nathan would likely insist on living with them. Kylie and her mother wouldn't even have the privacy of their own home anymore. Why? Could it be...?

Kylie shut her eyes. Bea couldn't be doing this for her... Right? But she didn't seem to be doing it for herself. Not with what Kylie knew of her. But then that meant...

Kylie turned over, silently wishing for some way out. Perhaps if Lucille were alive... She could've helped them. She was helping. Lucille was the strongest and bravest person Kylie had ever met, and yet not even she could ultimately stand up to the violence. Yes, she was a ghost. She was here... But she wasn't. Just a faded presence, an echoed voice, a hug lacking all the comforting warmth that had kept Kylie so safe, a reminder of what had been, and what could have been. A presence so close, and yet so far away...

Perhaps it couldn't have been. The Mafia have already proven their strength. Perhaps Lucille's ghost could help rally the town, but... Ultimately, how much could be done, even if they tried their hardest? They'd have to live like this forever, performing business without joy, not even able to take joy out of the best activities, as they would still be there. They were enslaved, and had even gone so far to not only separate Kylie from Lucille, but to drag Bea into this, to keep her in a relationship she would hate, to be kept under watch at all times. For protection. Everything they had to do was a matter of protection. For peoples' own selves, for others, for the ones they loved... It was all they could do in this now miserable life.

...Miserable life. That's what it was now, wasn't it? A life of joyless toil and chains, and not even the freedom to be with those they loved. That was all that was left.

...No it wasn't.

The thought struck her before she had a chance to retract it. It wasn't something she had ever considered before. For a long time, Kylie lay there, absorbing what she had just thought. It was drastic. And yet if she did...

She would have her freedom. No one would have to worry about protecting her anymore. She would have Lucille...

And she wouldn't have to live under the Mafia's tyranny.

...She decided.

Kylie got up and took a quick look under her mattress before nodding. Good. She still had her envelope in there. Eventually, when things have calmed down, she would tell Bea where to find it, and then hopefully she could keep it from Nathan, or any other member of the mafia. Maybe she could use it to maybe try to escape, now that Kylie wouldn't drag her down. Looking at her desk, she thought about writing a letter. But... No. There would be time for words later.

So instead, she drew out the chair and sat in it before drawing something from her belt. The knife Lucille gave her... Still sharp, shiny, and unused since she received it. To think Kylie could have used it herself against the Mafia... But Kylie was never a strong person. She knew that. If she was, maybe she could have actually stopped this. Still though, handling the knife, Kylie could almost feel Lucille's gentle touch, just as when Lucille first handed her the knife on the beach...

Lucille... She would understand when they could finally truly embrace. It would be worth it...

“...Forgive me,” Kylie said quietly. She closed her eyes and lifted the knife...

"Please don't."

The sound almost made Kylie drop the knife to the table, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked around for the source of the noise, but found no one.

"W-who's there?" Kylie asked tentatively.

The dripping sound intensified, but there was no answer.

“...I-I know you're there,” Kylie said. “I don't know who you are but... just leave me be.”

”No," the voice said. This time, a small foot stepped through the walls as the dripping sound got louder. Little by little, something walked forward from the wall. A little figure; a ghost. A ghost of a child that Kylie had never seen before. A child with hair hanging past her shoulders, almost glued to the girl's body, and ghostly little droplets of liquid dripping from the girl's hair, as well as her clothes and skin, splashing in the air shortly after they fell, as if they were landing on the an invisible platform.

“I don't wanna leave you alone,” the girl said.

The dripping sound... She had heard it in the past few days, but had always assumed it was something else, something mundane. And yet here before her was the culprit. Kylie wanted to ask how long the girl had been following her... But she found that she didn't have the energy to care. After all, it wasn't important right now.

“...You should,” Kylie said, staring intently at her knife. “You don't need to see this. Or the aftermath.”

“Neither does mom,” the girl said bluntly.

Kylie turned around, facing the girl again. “What?”

“Mom's really sad,” the girl said. “She's been sad for a long time. But now there's more ghosts, and she's even sadder. Cause she hates ghosts. And cause people she liked died. It scares her.”

If Kylie had the energy, she would have cringed. “You watched all that? Why didn't you leave?”

“Mommy hates me now, but I still wanna help her make her feel better. But I can't. She just yells at me. But I don't wanna see her sad anymore. Then things got bad here, and you got sad too. Besides... I don't have anyone to play with.”

Kylie frowned. Something... Something wasn't right here. The way she said all of that, about Bea, as if she were her own...

Wait a minute.

“...L-Lenore?” Kylie asked, dropping her knife to the ground as a half-gasp escaping her mouth.

Lenore's face contorted into an odd smile. “Hi sis.”

“Sis...” Kylie put a hand to her hair. No one had ever called her that... She'd never had a... But she did. But... She didn't know. Not before yesterday.

“I... How long have you been here...?”

“When I get really wet, I come up to see mommy. Did that ever since the river ate me. She was really mad when it did. Tried to grab me, but daddy pulled her back. I think she's still mad at me for it. But I still wanna see her. ...Not a lot can see me.”

“Lenore...” Kylie gulped. “Mom told me what happened. She loves you, she really does. She... She spent her life mourning for you. She couldn't stop thinking about you. She...”

Kylie closed her eyes and put her face to her desk, covering whatever remained to be seen with her arm. “She loved you more than anything...”

“...She loves you too, Ky-lee,” came Lenore's voice, closer now. “She was really really worried 'bout you. I saw her. She got really mad whenever she thought you died, even when you were mad at her too.”

Kylie felt a ghostly hand on her back, and she couldn't help but shiver.

“She'll be really really mad and sad if you died now,” Lenore said firmly.

For a long time, Kylie didn't say anything. Then she turned her head to face Lenore.

“It's better this way, though,” Kylie said. “I didn't help with anything, and now we're all really sad. If I become like you, they don't have to worry about protecting me anymore.”

“But you did help, Ky-lee!” Lenore protested. “You helped mommy be less sad. And you helped Lu-Lu be less sad too. And when you helped Lu-Lu, you helped her fight bad guys!”

The sides of Lenore's mouth twitched into a smile. “They protect you cause they like you, sis.”

Kylie was silent, but she felt her face contorting again, so she turned her head into her arm again.

“But... They can't now,” Kylie said, her voice finally beginning to break. “Lucille died because I didn't get to her. I didn't help her in the way that mannered most. And now... Now she's gone.”

“You didn't kill Lu-Lu, the baddies did,” Lenore protested. “And she's not gone. She's just like me now. And I'm not gone either.”

Kylie cringed. Lenore... How long had she been trying to get her mother's attention, only to be screamed at and waved away? Kylie couldn't deny that Lenore was here, that they were meeting for the first time. That this was probably one of the few real interactions Lenore has had since her death, all because her mother couldn't see her, and didn't want to see her. And that Kylie probably dismissed anything weird as mundane, or something. Lenore was effectively isolated from those she loved.

And yet... Kylie was doing the same thing to Lucille, wasn't she? The memory of the death had been playing into her head so much and so long that she had focused on the tragedy... And not even cheered when Lucille had come back a ghost. Instead, she had been acting cold to her, avoiding her... And to come back from the dead only to find the one she loved ignoring her now?

Kylie looked up, staring at the end of the desk, realizing with horror that she hadn't been fair to Lucille. In her grief, she'd been shutting her off... Just like her mother had done to her eldest daughter. All when Lucille had only been trying to help, trying to protect her...

The guilt hit Kylie like a ton of bricks, and her face fell into her hands.

“Dear 'Woo... Lucille...” Kylie said with a fully cracked voice. “I... I haven't been kind to her, and yet she's the one who... who died... I...” Kylie peered at Lenore out of the corner of her eyes. “I-I need to talk to her. Tell her I'm sorry. ...But we'll still be apart. As long as I'm stuck in this town, as long as she's a ghost and I'm not, we can't...”

Kylie let her sentence die. How to explain something like this to a 5 year old?

Fortunately, Lenore spoke before Kylie was forced to break the awkward silence. “But you're in love, Ky-lee! You're still together.”

Kylie shut her eyes for a moment. In love. It wasn't something she ever said to herself about Lucille, and it didn't mean much coming from a 5 year old. But thinking about it for a short time... She wasn't sure why she didn't. The rise in her chest whenever she saw her, the horrid pain she felt watching her die, as if Kylie had been stabbed in the chest...

And yet... Kylie shut her eyes. “All the more reason to be with her, and be happy... In spirit. We'll be free. They can't stop us.”

“Ky-lee,” Lenore said. “Being a ghost is really, really boring. I can't play with friends or anything! You need to make Lu-Lu happy as you are, and help her! And you gotta help Mommy too. Don't you know how the song goes? Love will find a way?”

Kylie tilted her head. “...I don't know the song.”

”Really?” Lenore gasped.

Kylie stared at the knife on the ground and wiped her eyes with her hand, changing the subject. “But I don't know what we can do...”

“Lu-Lu does,” Lenore says. “You heard what she said. And you're both really smart. You'll both find a way!”

“Heh... I think Lucille's the one who got the higher grades, Lenore... But I don't know...”

“Well, just talk to her,” Lenore said. “You said you would.”

Kylie let out a shuddered sigh. That's right. She did. Kylie glanced out the window behind Lenore, staring at the town in front of her. She didn't see any immediate sign of Lucille, just the town she no longer recognized. But... It wasn't all bad, was it? She couldn't give up on it. Not before giving it another chance.

Kylie then looked down at Lenore and thought of something. She got up and kicked the knife aside before holding out her hand to Lenore.

“I think we need to talk to someone else first,” Kylie said.

SPOILER: Click to show

After Morty's murder, Kylie returns to her room alone and ponders the situation. With things weighing down on her and her feeling herself useless, isolated from Lucille, and oppressed, she decides to kill herself to become a ghost. A ghost child stops her and starts talking to Kylie, an odd isolated ghost child whom the angels named Lenore. Lenore points out things that Kylie didn't consider, and Kylie realizes that she didn't consider other people, and that she's giving up too soon. Kylie decides not to do the act, and she resolves to talk to Lucille. But first, she decides to bring Lenore to talk to someone else first.

[Draco]

Jack was frustrated with the way people were acting in Town Hall. They still had a job to do, and they were arming themselves and locking the doors down.

"Open the blasted doors all ready! Just because there are people planning to take over, we still have a job to do! Now get to it!"

Speaking of take over... He goes through a few folders and pulls out a thick stack of papers. Placing them into a folder he flies outside and to Town Hall. Ignoring the stupid twin of his and the weird sparkle man, he floats over to the first mafioso he knew of. He taps their shoulder.

"So I've heard you are planning a take over of the town. Though it is not against the law, we do have procedures that I must enforce. Article 221B, Line 42, procedure 8, demands that any unlawful or lawful group wishing to take over the town in any way must fill out these forms in triplicate, a list of existing party, and must sign and initials where the tape indicates, and have it returned to the office, or myself. Once the papers are in order, you are allowed to fully do what you wish."

He plops the papers in the hands of the person he was speaking to. He then turns his eye to Travis... He pulls out another set of papers and forces them into Travis' hands.

"Unlawful parties of any kind in another person's home is also forbidden, unless you fill out the paperwork. Luckily for you, it's only three pages. Return them to me as soon as possible, and have a nice day."

He floats off back to Town Hall where he begins to scream at the workers for still having the doors locked.

---

Rocky pats Afe ont he back.

"So did you catch where this resistance is supposed to take place?"

"NO PICKLES!"

"I'll take that as a no my crazy friend. How annoying that I didn't hear where it was located..."

He looked around.

"By the way, I've asked your twin this earlier. But do you by chance know where the women are in this town? I'm afraid I'm getting rusty in my duties by only being around men as of late."

Grinning Afe nods his head flies off, Rocky giving chase.

SPOILER: Click to show

Jack hands over paperwork to the Mafia to fill out if they wished to take over the town. He also gave Travis his own batch of paperwork to fill if he wished to have a party of any kind.

--

Rocky and Afe discuss the rebels and go off in seek of women?

[RielCZ]

((Before lynching))

Barbra was unusually quiet as Rilen entered Seeds of Love. He hoped that wasn't a bad omen or something. He remembered Miko used to cover the plant with a scarf... maybe he should really be doing likewise.

He set Barbra down next to her "siblings." Maybe they would talk to each other or something.

Navigating through the place and dashing upstairs, he found a rather large purse in Miko's bedroom closet -- no money in this one, though -- and looking again between the mattresses comprising her bed, he found the rest of the loot. My, there was more than he'd thought he'd left; enough to sail to the mainland and back here again.

Not that he'd ever want to come back here again.

Rilen extracted the pillowcase from one of Miko's pillows -- he could drape Barbra in this, need be -- and quickly returned to the main level. There was his plant, right where he'd left her.

The purse strapped over his shoulder, he picked up Barbra and gazed over all the plants Miko still had in her shop. They would probably all die. What a waste...

And then his eye caught something else. Something on the other side of the shop. Picking up his plant, he walked toward it.

A phone. An old, white telephone. Miko undoubtedly received orders by phone every now and then.

He set down Barbra and picked it up. He held the receiver to his ear; it still had a dial-tone. The mafia had yet to disturb phone communication, if that was on their list of things to do. 

The boarder thought back to a conversation he'd had with his sister prior to his departure from the mainland. It was on Christmas day; right after a Christmas brunch with his sister, who'd arrived in the mainland from Aifam Cove a week earlier, Lora saw him off at the harbor. 

"If things start getting out of hand," she said to him, "please call." She smiled semi-sarcastically. "But only if, you know, people start dying. I do get a couple of weeks off before I return to work -- God, will it be easier with me living back in the city -- and I'd like to try spending my vacation... without you calling me every single day."

Rilen mirrored her smile. "Yeah, sure."

"If you do need a phone, you can probably find one somewhere in town. I disabled mine, remember? I won't be needing it if I won't be living there for the next few month--"

"Yeah, I remember."

"I know for sure there's one up at the Starlight Teahouse. You should head there sometime. The owner's a real gentlema--"

"Lora, don't worry," he interrupted casually as he raised his board. "I'll have everything under control.

"You have my number?"

"Yeah, I have your number." He was pretty sure he had her number.

They hugged, but it was awkward at best. "See you again in a few months, Rilen."

Rilen did not have her number.

As soon as the kid died in the church, he'd looked for it, but to no avail.

And now, as he stood next to a working phone, the boarder tried desperately to remember it. 

"Aha!" he said as he snapped his fingers and dialed. He had it!

"Hello?" the gruff male voice on the other side asked.

"Er, hi," Rilen replied sheepishly. "Is Lora there?"

"Who's Lora?"

Well, darn.

"Sorry, wrong number."

He hung up the phone and stared at it. He breathed heavily. He had no idea what to do now. His sister was really his only means of orchestrating a viable escape.

"Miko," he said loudly to no one in particular. Nothing. "Miko," he said a little louder, his voice panging slightly off the walls. "Miko, I know you've done so much for me already, and all I did in return was put flowers on you and your resting spot, but if you're there, anywhere, I could really use your help." He paused. "Help me leave this place. Come with me, if you'd like. I just need--"

And then the phone rang. Rilen stared at it. It rang again. The caller had to be from outside Aifam Cove; everyone here would know the florist was no longer alive. The phone rang a third time.

Hesitantly, he picked it up and listened. 

"Hello, er, Miko? I picked up a... I think it's called a coleus? A coleus from your shop a few weeks ago, before I left -- my brother advised me to buy a plant as they apparently help in times of stress and moving can be stressful and all -- but it's all droopy and--"

The hell? "Lora?" Rilen interrupted his sister on the other end of the line. 

A pause. "Rilen?" she asked, her voice an odd mixture of surprise and disgust. "What are you doing at..." Her tone shifted to something more teasing. "Oh Rilen, you actually--"

"No," Rilen cut her off, his voice rigid. He hesitated. "Miko's dead. Most of the town is dead."

Lora was silent. "Oh."

"But I did grow somewhat close to Miko, and it was by some miracle I was in the shop when you called."

"How did she--"

"The mafia. They run this town now. They'll murder those who won't comply with their demands." He pleaded his next words as much to Miko as he did to his sister. "Please, please, help me get out of this godforsaken--"

And then a sound boomed over the town's loudspeaker. "Good morning Aifam Cove indeed."

Rilen, the phone in his hand, ran over to the door -- the phone's chord was just long enough -- and propped it open with Miko's purse. The rest of the message played out, and he made sure Lora caught everything.

"Winter's Wrath...I'm back,[bleep]s. I hope you're ready."

Something in the message stirred something in Rilen. The mafia had proved through their resurrection that life conquers over death. But the mafia was death. The town was life. A revolution could work. 

"Rilen?" Lora asked him.

"Yeah?"

She paused. "Do you want me to bring weapons or something?"

Rilen was caught off guard by this. "As hard as it is to believe, Lora, I really don't want to see anyone else die. The mafia driven out, definitely. But... I'm done with the bloodshed. But yes, bring along weapons in self-defense. Or for more... we'll see. Rent the fastest boat you can and get down here. Please." 

Lora hesitated. "All that costs money, Rilen."

He looked down at the purse in the doorway. He picked it up, hearing the coins jingle and bills crumple inside, and let the door fall. "Trust me, I'll reimburse you for everything. Miko willed me everything she had."

Another pause. "Are you sure you and Miko didn't--"

"No," he cut her off, slightly agitated.

"But what if I get hurt in--"

"Aunt Martha willed that house here to you. How do you think she'd feel with your cowardice endangering someone she loved?" That almost sounded hypocritical, Rilen realized.

Lora sighed audibly. "Alright fine, Rilen. If I rent the fastest boat I can find, I should be there in a few hours. Will a two seater work?"

Rilen paused. "Try going for something a little larger... you can take along more provisions and weaponry, and who knows... maybe we can get others out of this place." 

Silence. "Remember the nature trails we used to explore as kids, further up from my house on Stalberry?"

"Oh, of course," the boarder replied with a tinge of nostalgia.

"Remember that one section of the beach we found, totally untouched? We called it our secret place."

He chuckled slightly. "How could I forget that?"

"I'll dock the boat there. See you in a few hours."

He paused. "Oh, and try just watering the coleus." 

Smiling slightly, Rilen hung up the phone. 

He decided to just stand in the shop for a little while longer... It couldn't hurt anything. And it was unlikely he'd ever be back. "Thanks," he said silently to whatever had allowed him to talk with his sister. Thanks to Miko, to 'Woo, to whatever. 

After what seemed like an hour, Rilen heard commotion coming from further downtown. Draping the pillowcase over Barbra, he opened the door and stepped outside. Rilen gazed down Main at Town Square. Was that? 

God, it was. There was Morty.

And a slash of his throat later, there was Morty's body.

Rilen wanted to cry, but he wasn't sure why. He supposed this was the final confirmation of the mafia's victory. 

He retreated into Seeds of Love. Soon, his sister would be here and he could go home and forget about ever coming to this place.

Soon.

But soon seemed ever so distant.

SPOILER: Click to show

((Long post but it covers a lot.)) 

Rilen goes to Seeds of Love to retrieve the rest of Miko's hidden funds. In the storefront, he was in the right place at the right time and manages to talk with his sister on Miko's phone.

His sister agrees to rent a speedboat, collect provisions, and get weapons (for "self-defense") ASAP -- Rilen will pay her back for everything using Miko's money -- and then meet him in a secret spot further north they both remember from their youth.

From just outside the shop, Rilen witnesses Morty's killing and it almost makes him cry. He retreats into Seeds of Love, waiting for the situation outside to calm before making his next move.  

[Kristykimmy]

Anna had gone back to her antique shop to box things appropriately for shipping, like Dr. Parker had asked. She had just finished packing the most delicate of the items when she noticed a commotion outside. She went to the window to look. The townspeople were parading an exhausted Morty down the street.

Anna stepped out. “Please don't do it! Let him go. Don't give into them!”

No one heeded her cries, perhaps no one could even hear them. Anna could only watch helplessly as the Mafia slit Morty's throat.

“Remember this blood,” Bardsley shouted menacingly. “Because for anyone who disobeys us… it shall be your blood staining this knife next. But if you cooperate…”

Anna dropped to the ground and sat like that, her head on her knees, sobbing tearless sobs for the man who had murdered her. Anna had wanted to see justice come to Morty for all the wrong he had done, but that wasn't justice. The rest of the town had already given up. Aifam was lost.

SPOILER: Click to show

Anna returns to her shop to box up her goods in preparation for whoever will take over her business. She sees them dragging Morty to the Mafia and can only watch helplessly as they kill him. She laments that the town is lost.

[Avery]

((collab with Gelquie))

Bea was standing next to Nathan when finally the mob dragged Morty onto the scene. She watched, nearly numb, as Bardsley gave his sickening speech and then sliced Nathan’s knife across Morty’s throat. The way Nathan so smilingly proffered the knife to Bardsley—the way even now that he could be involved without hesitation in death… it stole Beatrix’s breath away. And it further cemented to her that she could not ever leave Nathan. That she could not ever do anything to offend him. Otherwise, he’d retaliate without skipping a beat. And even worse, perhaps, he wouldn’t understand why it was wrong. He just… it seemed beyond him, the badness of these things. At least someone like Bardsley… at least Bardsley seemed to know that what he was doing was wicked; he just didn’t care, he openly reveled in it. But Nathan? Nathan was like a puppy dog. A puppy dog who was tearing open throats but didn’t seem to understand why no one wanted to pet him.

It made her want to throw up.

Afterward, as the mafia continued milling around, Bea wiped the snow off one of the benches in the town square, then sat down. Merry curled up at her feet, and Bea petted the dog slowly, taking comfort in the softness of her fur, the warmth of her. Merry seemed to pick up on her master’s sadness and licked Bea occasionally, whining as she did. Bea hushed the dog. She didn’t want Nathan or his buddies to grow annoyed at the high-pitched sound.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. It could have been an hour, or it could have been several. No one approached her, as if they could sense the danger around her now—this partner of a mafioso, this woman who’d committed herself to him in front of a buzzing crowd. Who’d whispered those agony-laced words: “Forevermore.”

Until finally… someone appeared on the scene. Kylie. Bea wasn’t sure if Kylie had been around during Morty’s death—the crowd had been so thick, and it’d been hard to make out faces—but the look on her daughter’s face now was… strange. And…

Bea’s gaze fell beyond Kylie, settling on a ghostly form that trailed behind her. No. Bea’s heart seized. Not this figure—not this ethereal mist—this… no… no… no…

“No,” she said aloud, in a strangled whisper, as Kylie and the ghost finished their approach.

"Mom, wait, it's okay," Kylie said, reaching her free hand out to Bea. "We need to talk."

“T-talk?” Bea murmured, as Merry stood up and nosed first at Kylie—then beyond her, at the ghost. The dog licked tentatively at the immaterial form, her tongue passing right through. The form giggled—such a familiar giggle, one that wrenched Bea’s heart—and the woman inhaled deeply. Trying to keep herself composed. “I… what do you want to talk about, Kylie?” she managed.

"Mom, I..." Kylie took a moment to glance back towards Lenore, playing with the dog. Kylie took a seat on the bench, sitting near Bea, but leaving enough open space for Lenore to sit. "...When you were talking to me yesterday, I think... I think there was something you left out. I understand why you did, but... it's just..."

Kylie paused, not sure how to proceed. Instead, she ended up looking towards Lenore, playing with the dog.

"...You can see her, can't you?"

Bea swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Ghosts aren’t real, Kylie,” she said. But the words tasted false on her tongue. In the past week, she’d seen so many of them, after all. She’d tried to deny it, but how could she anymore? One ghost flitting in and out her life—the ghost of a loved one—that could be written off as wishful thinking, her mind cracking like an egg. But all these others… and now that Kylie was seeing sweet little Lenore, too…

“I’ve always seen her,” Bea whispered, as Lenore giggled shrilly at Merry’s antics. “I mean—not always but… for years now. She… she shows up mostly in the wintertime. December, January… the months around her death.” She bit her lip. “At first she tried to talk to me. Hearing her voice—it almost drove me mad. Reminding me of all I’d lost. I would scream at her to go away… thinking she couldn’t be real… and she’d disappear for a time. But she’d always come back. Eventually she stopped trying to talk to me, but I’d see her. Snatches here and there—the sound of water when there weren’t any pipes…” She shook her head. “I know it’s terrible to have ignored her, to have treated her so harshly. But… you have to understand, Kylie. The way she talked to me—so lovingly, still, her voice so filled with adoration… I knew I didn’t deserve that. I let her die. My sweet baby, who I was supposed to protect. She should have hated me. I hated me…” Her voice trailed off.

Kylie quickly reached her hands forwards to grab Bea's. "Mom... she's real. She talked to me. She found me when..." No. She couldn't mention that. "...She found me when I was upset. And when she was talking to me, one of the things she mentioned was you. How she wanted to talk to you, to see you again, to be with you again. She thought you were mad at her. But it wasn't her fault. It wasn't your fault. You didn't let her die. Just like I... Like I..."

Kylie voice broke and she trailed off, the memory flickering in Kylie's head again. She glanced back towards Lenore, who had begun to stare at the two of them once more. Somehow, the sight of the drowned girl gave Kylie the strength to continue.

"...But she came back, mother. Even when she couldn't talk to you... She still came back. She doesn't hate you, mother. ...And I don't either."

“I… I don’t even know what to say to her,” Bea murmured. “After twenty years…”

Kylie held out her hand to Lenore, nodding for her to approach. Lenore hesitated, taking turns staring at the hand and Beatrix.

"It's okay," Kylie said to both of them. Slowly, Lenore approached, then stood awkwardly for a moment before taking her hand.

"You don't have to say anything," Kylie said. With that, she led Lenore over to Beatrix, and she moved their hands to join together, letting go once the two's hands were grasped.

Bea shook as Lenore’s ghostly hand fell into hers. It wasn’t warm—not the hand she knew—and yet… it felt familiar somehow. Her ghostly daughter’s expectant eyes met Bea’s. Bea smiled.

“Hello,” Bea said, softly, her voice quavering. “Hello, my sweet, sweet girl.”

“Hi Mommy,” Lenore replied brightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Beatrix said. “Oh Lenore…”

And she knew then—she knew. It didn’t matter if she had to be with Nathan. It didn’t matter if Aifam Cove was under his iron fist, and Bardsley’s, and all of the rest of Winter’s Wrath. Things were going to be okay—for her, for Kylie, for Lenore. For twenty years she’d drifted in a fog of alcohol-induced numbness. She’d stumbled through life, letting it slip by beneath her fingertips.

But no longer.

“Lenore,” Beatrix repeated, savoring the name—the flow of it, each letter and syllable. For twenty years, she’d only spoken it mistakenly, but now, it would never be a mistake again.

SPOILER: Click to show

Bea reacts with numbness and shock to Morty's death. When Kylie arrives a few hours later with Lenore, Beatrix is initially shocked and upset... but eventually Kylie helps her realize that Lenore doesn't blame her, and that they can reunite. As Bea holds Lenore's hand, she realizes that everything will be okay.

[Pixie]

(During Her Murder)

Up, up.

Lili had to go up to some place safe. There weren't any trees inside the crowded theater she could ascend, but she recalled a staircase.

The people held captive in the theater were bloodthirsty, and they all had to get out before someone else would perish at another's hands. In the back of her mind, she knew it was hazardous to wander off alone. Still, she needed the minutest amount of respite, and her own little investigation could just as well get the townspeople out of the theater before another murder could happen. It would only need to be a brief moment up there.

She turned to the ladies' restroom to splash some water on her face. She wouldn't find much of anything useful in her state of quiet hysteria. A minute or two after she managed to get the faucet running, Nathan and a woman Lili didn’t recognize entered the restroom, led by her Alma. She was holding a scarf taut, colored red like blood and roses.

It suddenly dawned on her that Alma and them had met her there to take her life.

Lili wasn't ready to die, especially not at the hands of her dearest friend. She didn’t know what Alma could possibly gain by using that scarf against her, but her she could see the murderous intent in her eyes. Lili was alone. It scared her to think that in her last moments of truly being, no one would be there to affirm her existence and know her final self. She'd have no shared final, unspoken promises, no one to guide her through to nothingness or whatever was to come after for her. Lili's family was far away. Her friends were lost to her at that moment, and her closest bringing her to death. Would Alma eventually realize what she was about to do and fall apart? Had she been deceiving and using her all along as Bardsley had been? Lili wondered if it would be her role to console Alma from beyond the grave. Alma had to be making a mistake.

Lili needed them to spare her. She felt paralyzed. Her voice failed her again even though she desperately needed to scream. Lili wondered if it would be worth it to break her pacifism. Lili had to fight back, but she was not willing to hurt another, and her body refused. She never liked violence, and resorting to it in a most likely ineffective show of defiance would just bring her down another level. Although Alma had betrayed her, she didn’t want to hurt her. Lili was angry, but after seeing Alma break down so many times, she was too close to her heart. She had struggled to protect and trust Alma, and it was ultimately misplaced trust leading to her death. Lili was a pacifist, and didn't want to spend her last moments acting against her beliefs. Outnumbered, outsized, and trapped, the odds were stacked against her.

She stammered that they didn't have to kill her. She couldn't find a reason why they would seek her out as their next victim. Especially Alma. What could have caused her best friend to turn on her? Ignorant and weak, she posed no threat against them. It wasn't enough. Her uselessness against them, and her friendship and trust with Alma, had doomed her far more than it saved her.

A couple of them snatched her by the arms and forced her onto her knees, leaving her prone for Alma to draw it tight around her throat.

Lili decided that she had to tell Alma what she was feeling. She doubted it would make them stop, but at least she would know, even if the types to murder their best friends in cold blood weren't usually sympathetic. She cried out that she didn't want to die alone as she felt the thick crimson scarf binding itself around her neck. Lili struggled to breathe, her throat collapsing under the pull of Alma's scarf.

"Liliana, we all die alone," Alma mused, as she released the scarf and turned to leave.

Her assailants left her curled up on the floor as she was halfway gone with a slam of the restroom door. Her head swam. She grappled for the scarf around her throat, panic flooding through her. Her small hands shook as she tried futilely to untie the knots put there to finish the job. Lili's vitality was already gone and she couldn't make them budge. In the series of practical knots, she noticed that Alma had tied her a bow as if her impending death was a present.

Was it better to hold on when she knew it would make no difference, or to let herself slip away? Her head was so light. With those close to her being deceivers, or lost and far away, what was she holding on for? As she tried to force more breaths, she could hear the faint trickling of water from the faucet she never would get a chance to turn off.

There, alone, in the dilapidated restroom of a movie theater, she would meet her demise. It was almost surreal, if she shut out the pain and the feeling of her life trying to leave her. She convulsed with agony as her body was cut off from the blood she desperately needed to be flowing. Well, at least she wouldn't make a mess. Liliana Parker would leave a tidy little corpse.

It was the end. Lili struggled to accept it. Perhaps she would be a ghost, but things would never be the same. She didn't want an afterlife where she would be tormented by the lies she had told and the misery she had witnessed. She didn’t want to remember that her best friend had gotten her alone and murdered her. Death at least would take the suffering away. With three more tortured breaths, each fainter than the last, Lili died there alone. Her spirit was torn from her body to elsewhere.

Up, up.

(Some Time Later)

Lili, or rather, her spirit awoke in a sweet-smelling forest glade. Birdsong and the quiet murmur of forest life filled the air. She sat up, puzzled on how she arrived there. She was not yet aware of her own death.

When Lili finally glanced down at herself, she found she was in a lacy white dress she didn't remember putting on, and a red ribbon was tied loosely in a bow at her throat. Her curls were long, loose, and no longer blue. Instead they were in her natural ginger color. This observation was followed with the realization that she was translucent. She was spectral and her body lacked substance. There was no sensation of feeling as she had known it. Tranquility shattered as she realized she had died.

She became aware of the sharp ghost-pain encircling her neck, and radiating through her. She rose up into the air shrieking as she felt the pure, visceral, agony once more. Ghosts weren't supposed to feel anything, so why did it hurt so terribly?

If there was anyone else in the glade, they didn't show themselves. There was not much that she could do in the middle of the wood, dead or alive, so she began to float away from there. From the outskirts of the glade, Lili could see a neat dirt path that led to a small village.

As she walked closer to the town, Lili found that it was quaint and orderly, filled with blocks of pastel-colored cottages and trim gardens. In the village, she came upon a trio of ridiculously adorable sapient teddy bears, who seemed to be engaged in polite conversation. She made her ghostly way in front of them, and asked them “Would you know where I am? I was in Aifam Cove only a few moments ago.”

A small purple one beamed and answered. "This is Paradise!"

One of the teddy’s apparent friend, a fluffy yellow teddy, turned and added “You are four hours north of Aifam!"

A green one shook her head. "This is fairyland!"

None of them argued over it, but they all seemed to have distorted views of what was going on. They just waited for Lili to leave, and she took their prompt. She desperately wanted the truth, and she was not finding it there.

She found another gathering, somewhat larger, of the teddies. She made the exact same inquiry as before, smiling weakly at the teddies.
"This is North Falls!"
"This is purgatory!"
"This is a dream!""

From the scattered mumble of the crowd, she picked up no consensus. She could as well have been dreaming, but it felt like no dream. The excruciating pain of dying couldn’t have been dreamt up. It could be purgatory, as she had many regrets from her life. Could she renew herself somehow? Even with the teddy bears there, she felt so lonely. She needed someone who she could inform and have legitimate conversation with. How could she express the pain of what she had seen and been through in the past several days when she was so used to hiding her true emotion? She needed to find human company before she became mad.

“I’m… dead. Are there anymore like me here?” she inquired, gingerly brushing her fingers across the ghastly bruises under her neck ribbon.

“A couple!”
“Yes!”
“Nope!”
“Nearby!”
“Far away!”
“Billions!”

They were certainly cute, but the teddy bear people of the strange land were of no help to Lili. She’d have an endless amount of searching to do before she found anything. How much time had it been since she arrived there? She had to go back to Aifam Cove. She needed to know why Alma had decided to murder her, and she wanted to see what was happening to the people she never got a chance to say goodbye to. She didn’t deserve to have any of them worry about her, but she knew that someone would. If they could not carry on without it, she needed to give them resolution.

With that overwhelming impulse, Lili’s soul was flung from the otherworld and into town square of Aifam Cove, leaving behind some very confused teddy bears.

(Morty’s Execution)

Lili faded herself as soon as she appeared in the square, a barefoot apparition visible only for a fraction of a second. She looked around for a moment to search for friends and was filled with horror when she saw the flag that was flying: red and black, snowflakes and suites, inscribed with “Winter’s Wrath. Be Afraid”. What had occurred as she was gone? The town had fallen to Mafia subjugation?

She saw Morty Gunderson, who had taken so many lives, being dragged out by a mob into the square where the Mafia were gathered. All of the Mafia, including those who had already met their ends, were standing alive in a row. Bardsley and Alma were standing in the line, the two who had gotten in Lili’s heart and shattered her. Morty was a killer, too. He had taken so many lives by his own hands, and if he hadn’t trapped them all in the theater, maybe the Mafia wouldn’t have gotten to her and the town wouldn’t have murdered Miko. He fought for the town, and she didn’t wish death upon him, she had only wanted him pacified.

“Dead? Indeed I was. But now I am alive once again, as I should be. And soon you will be dead, as you should be—for what you did to Lindsey—for what you did to me.The knife? Let this serve as a lesson of what happens when you fight back. Let his blood flow as payment for the blood that flowed from Lindsey’s throat, and from mine! Remember this blood, because for anyone who disobeys us… it shall be your blood staining this knife next. But if you cooperate…”

It was not a trick of the eyes. All of the Mafiosos were back to life, and they had the whole town as hostages. She watched as they cut Morty’s throat and he died before her eyes.

Suddenly, she was furious. She knew that if she was alive, what she would do next would be very, very dangerous. Her ghostly form became visible and defined as her consciousness surged, and she hovered out only feet away from Bardsley.

“Mr, Bardsley, you are despicable.” Lili snarled, looking at him in the eyes “Such a brilliant, charming man, and you go and lead a town to terror and slaughter. Did you always want to play the role of a villain? I’m a villain to a lesser degree, thank you for teaching me, Professor. I might not actually be a fortune teller, but I foresee that you will cause your own downfall. Your lack of empathy is denying you the true understanding of life and humanity, even as you had cheated death. You want knowledge? So do I. You will never know what its like to feel emotions and the indescribable tethers of the world. So long, I had been holding back the way I felt. I was lying, I was hiding, I was manipulating people, and I regret it all now. I, however, can tell you don’t. I was given a chance to change, a final chance with this brutal death. You had one too, and you let it go. You will never change Bardsley, and you will never better yourself. You are going to miss something key one day, because you can’t feel. When your pawns reach the side of the board you won’t be able to control them anymore. Your design of a perfect world, one so terrible, will fall in time too.”

She was very aware that Alma was standing there with him, and Lili couldn’t bear to hide from her anymore. She turned to face Alma, who had not too long ago been her closest companion.

“You murdered me, Alma!” She cried, gesturing pointedly at her mangled throat, “I can’t bring myself to hate you, I simply cannot! I always was so worried for you, Alma. I had to trust you, even when I didn’t believe it wise. You betrayed me. We were so close, and part of me still wants to be. I’m not asking anything of you from here on out. Just tell me, why? What was to gain from my death? Had you ever been my friend?”

SPOILER: Click to show

Summary: Lili dies a painful death alone in the ladies' restroom when the Mafia come for her. She finds herself in the afterlife after Alma strangles her. Once she realizes she had died, she decides to explore the new world she's in. After so many lies from the afterworld's inhabitants, she heads back to Aifam to finish her business. She encounters Morty’s murder and finds the town has fallen. She gives Bardsley a verbal beatdown, and tells Alma how she feels.

[Nova]

Before Morty's Murder

"Happy," she said, the word tasting like acid on her tongue. "Yes, I think we could be happy together, you and I. Happy. Forevermore..."

Nathan grinned. But yet, something wasn't quite right. Beatrix wasn't as elated as he was expecting her to be. Why not? He was offering her everything if she continued to be with him. Nothing would change, she'd have money, things, Kylie, everything she wanted. Did she dare to expect even more? She couldn't be that greedy could she?! Hopefully she'll come around, and be happy with what she's got.

"Wonderful," he said clasping her hand. "We're going to have a wonderful life together."

"Nathan!" he heard Professor Bardsley spoke. "The town has Morty. They're bringing them here now."

"It's about time," he muttered. "I've been wanting his head for ages now. I can't wait to slice him to pieces."

He looked back at Beatrix, who seemed stunned in her place. "You coming sweetie?"

After Morty's Murder

(I'll edit this later >_> I lost the post and don't feel like rewriting it all now XD)

[Birdy]

Silence is golden.

That’s what they say, right?

Silence is golden.

Hermia watched silently as the crowd led Morty to his doom – to Bardsley.

“How…” Morty had breathed, kneeling before the leering man. (He looked tired – so very tired…) “Are you—but you were—”

“Dead?” finished Bardsley. “Indeed I was. But now I am alive once again, as I should be. And soon you will be dead, as you should be—for what you did to Lindsey—for what you did to me.”

She couldn’t help but shudder at the venom in the professor’s voice. The way he so casually asked for the knife, as if asking for the time of day…

She wanted to protest, to say this wasn’t right. That not even Mortimer Gunderson deserved this.

But she remained silent.

She hadn’t wanted this – she’d voted against it, saying it would be a far worse fate for him to live, to stay in the town he’d helped bring to its knees and ultimately defeat…

But the things the others had suggested as an alternative… she nearly gagged just thinking about them. (She suspected that they had only been brought up to force her into choosing death – though she stubbornly stuck with her vote, knowing she’d ultimately be outnumbered. )

She hadn’t wanted this – yet she had been the one to give the order for his head. (And as it was Bardsley’s idea to split the speech into parts, she knew it was no mistake that she had been the one to give the order – as if to show her that her opinions meant nothing, if they went against the majority. )

Silence is golden, so silent she remained.

“Let this serve as a lesson of what happens when you fight back!” Bardsley had cried. “Let his blood flow as payment for the blood that flowed from Lindsey’s throat, and from mine!”

She watched in silence as Travis Richem grabbed Morty’s hair and jerked the man’s head back… He simply closed his eyes, accepting defeat; his arms dangled limply at either side of him. (Whatever Richem was whispering… Morty didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to go out with some inane, deluded narration echoing in his ears… )

Hermia refused to watch when Bardsley lifted the knife. She closed her eyes, turned away.

She remained silent.

Silent. Just as she had for all the other deaths…

Enna Tweff – it had been so sudden; but just a fluke, right? Just an accident. No need to panic, to admit anything… So she stayed silent.
Christopher… dear, sweet Christopher Dylans… She’d been there, keeping watch. Silent. She’d said nothing, and he’d died. (Why hadn’t she spoken, protested? He’d been a CHILD for the love of ‘Woo!)
Jack Ryan Smith – she’d known he was innocent! And yet she stayed silent as the townsfolk threw him over a cliff, to his death.
Leopold Endicott… Kind, welcoming Leo, who had greeted her so warmly when she’d stopped by his party the night Lindsey had died… Who had gladly agreed to help her with her interview/obituaries, never knowing she was the reason he was dead... (He’d been innocent, she knew. The Abominable Aifam had been convinced he was one of the constables rumoured to be working, but she’d had her doubts. Yet she’d stayed silent… Silent as always, keeping watch for any passersby, as Nathan had ambushed the man in an alley, and slit his throat… )
Mr. Stal, Miko Shamen, Lilliana Parker, Dakota Allen… how many others had she silently watched die?

Too many. Far, far too many…

Bardsley was facing the crowd, holding the bloody, dripping knife aloft.

“Remember this blood,” he said to them. “Because for anyone who disobeys us… it shall be your blood staining this knife next. But if you cooperate…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. The town square was silent, and so very, very cold.

Silence is golden.

To speak meant death – even for a mafioso.

Silence is golden.

So silent she would remain…

SPOILER: Click to show

Hermia is depressing and thwacks her writer in the feels.


Hermia is silent.

She thinks of all the other times she was silent when people died. She silently protests Morty's execution, knowing that if she speaks, it could mean death.

Hermia is silent.

[PFA]

{Earlier that morning...}

"...And that is all. Class is dismissed."

The students were all too eager to leave, scrambling out of their seats and out the door. Professor Bardsley moved next to the door so he could see them off, which only seemed to frighten them further. He chuckled to himself. Their fear was a little over-the-top, perhaps, but amusing.

Standing by the door, though, Professor Bardsley was able to realize something: Dr. Jenson had been waiting outside the classroom, looking nervous. For how long was uncertain, but it was nonetheless... concerning. Especially considering that he was alone.

"Did you find Miss Jackson?" Professor Bardsley asked, causing Dr. Jenson to jump.

"I-I'm sorry, sir— uh, professor, but I couldn't find her anywhere," Dr. Jenson stammered.

Professor Bardsley frowned. "Did you check the dorms?"

"I even checked her dorm room, yes," Dr. Jenson confirmed. "All her personal belongings were there, even her phone, but... not her."

A pause. And then, a wry smile crossed Professor Bardsley's face.

"That's too bad," he spoke, in a voice as smooth as silk. "She must have left in a hurry, due to some sort of... family emergency. I'll have to check up on her later."

"What—"

"Thank you for letting me know, Dr. Jenson." Professor Bardsley clapped a hand on his nervous colleague's shoulder. "I'll be sure to look into it."

And with that, the professor walked off, leaving Dr. Jenson—and the students who overheard the conversation—to stand there in confused, concerned silence.

---

{After Morty's death...}

It was exhilarating. Getting to drag the knife across Mortimer Gunderson's throat, making his killer suffer the same fate he had... the irony was delicious, and Professor Bardsley loved it.

He was just wiping the blood off of the knife, when he felt something tapping his shoulder. It was a familiar sensation, which just a few days ago, he had feverishly excused away as his mind playing tricks on him. However, after what he had experienced in the past few days, he could no longer deny the existence of ghosts. So this time, he actually turned to look, and was greeted with the ghost of Jack Ryan Smith.

"So I've heard you are planning a take over of the town. Though it is not against the law, we do have procedures that I must enforce," Mr. Smith said, handing him a stack of papers. "Article 221B, Line 42, procedure 8, demands that any unlawful or lawful group wishing to take over the town in any way must fill out these forms in triplicate, a list of existing party, and must sign and initials where the tape indicates, and have it returned to the office, or myself. Once the papers are in order, you are allowed to fully do what you wish."

Professor Bardsley was silent at first. And then, he laughed.

"Why certainly. If we can make it official, we may as well, hm?" He smiled. "It's already everything but. I'll be certain to bring these back to you."

As Professor Bardsley sifted through the papers in his hand, Mr. Smith turned his attention to Richem, handing him some paperwork for... unlawful entry of someone's home? Was Richem thinking of unlawfully entering someone's home? I mean, this was Richem, but somehow the thought of it made Professor Bardsley uneasy. Whose home were they breaking into?

"Mr, Bardsley, you are despicable," came another voice. Looking up, Professor Bardsley was greeted with the sight of another ghost, one he didn't recognize at first. The voice, however, was familiar... Ms. Parker? "Such a brilliant, charming man, and you go and lead a town to terror and slaughter. Did you always want to play the role of a villain? I’m a villain to a lesser degree, thank you for teaching me, Professor."

"Oh really now?" Professor Bardsley chuckled in amusement. "You're quite welcome, then."

"I might not actually be a fortune teller, but I foresee that you will cause your own downfall," she said next, causing his smile to fade. "Your lack of empathy is denying you the true understanding of life and humanity, even as you had cheated death. You want knowledge? So do I. You will never know what its like to feel emotions and the indescribable tethers of the world."

"I beg your pardon?" Professor Bardsley scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "I don't think you understand what—"

"So long, I had been holding back the way I felt," Ms. Parker continued. "I was lying, I was hiding, I was manipulating people, and I regret it all now. I, however, can tell you don’t. I was given a chance to change, a final chance with this brutal death. You had one too, and you let it go. You will never change Bardsley, and you will never better yourself. You are going to miss something key one day, because you can’t feel. When your pawns reach the side of the board you won’t be able to control them anymore. Your design of a perfect world, one so terrible, will fall in time too."

That was it. These accusations were getting out of hand.

"For your information, Ms. Parker," Professor Bardsley spat, "I understand emotions perfectly well. I have emotions of my own, but mine don't get in the way of my research. Rather, they accentuate it. My passion for my work allows me to see things in a way that most anthropologists wouldn't. It is immensely satisfying, knowing the discoveries I have and will continue to make through these events.

"Also, perhaps our empire will fall, in time. As Dr. Pallada can attest to, all empires fall eventually," he continued. "I don't intend to let that happen in my lifetime, but I accept it. Honestly, that's not really the point. The point is, it happened. And it is happening now." He smiled again at the thought. "I have made so much research, and it was quite enlightening. And I look forward to the research I will make in the future."

SPOILER: Click to show

Before Morty's death, Professor Bardsley's class finishes, and he learns from Dr. Jenson that Cassidy has gone missing. Realizing what this likely means, Bardsley says he will... look into it.

Later, Professor Bardsley is pleased that he got to give Morty an ironic death. He happily accepts the paperwork from Jack, and gives a lecture to Lili about his motivations.

[Tiger]

Pratchett, feet on the desk in uncharacteristic sloppiness that more likely was a cover for how not casual the technician felt. Albert, standing with arms folded beside a tripod in the corner of the room.

Ris Monaco, junior private eye. No sign of Coena, her usual coat, scarf, and hat-covered friend.

The ghost of Sister Lucille Erata, nun turned freedom fighter.

Leopold Endicott, hair stylist, also a specter.

Melanie Porter, who had supposedly turned into a wolf and also owned the town petshop.

And of course, there was Cheryl Roxanne Lewis, who had just walked into the technician’s office, followed by Christopher Dylans.

Pratchett had moved a large computer screen onto a desk on the far side of the room. There was a laptop on the technician’s usual desk pointing to the room proper – more specifically, the empty spaces where Sister Erata and Leo stood. The screen probably looked as blank to the others as the air look to Cheryl – but the reporter could see Leo and Lucille projected there.

Her camera had died on the way to the studio. Cheryl looked to Pratchett with the warmest smile she could manage. Pratchett tossed her an earpiece and said, “I know – I’m the best. Not only that, but I found all these people who wanna help! Also, an intern.” Pratchett gestured with a coffee cup to Ris.

Cheryl had known since leaving the town square that she was going to fight – discretely and as best she could with a mafioso working in the same building (assuming Hermia Smith planned to work in the studio. Also assuming Hermia would be able to work in the studio – Cheryl had found the backdoor empty but when she’d glanced into Hermia’s office, all of the furniture was upside down and on the opposite side of the room from its original place.).

As long as the mafia were in charge of the town, nobody was truly safe, especially not with some of the members motivated less by money or power and more by bloodthirst. Aside from the fact that letting killers rule the town was just plain wrong, Cheryl Roxanne Lewis was a reporter. A pillar of her community. It was her duty to protect the town.

Pratchett explained, “Ris came here looking for an internship. We’re still negotiating on the gum situation. The good Sister here actually wants you sticking your nose in other people’s business. Leo and that excellent coat want to loan you some stuff I didn’t even know hairstylists were allowed to have – bullet-proof vest might be handy for the newest member of the Aifam News family,” the technician added in a moment of seriousness, nodding toward Ris. “And we have Melanie, who came in here as a werewolf, which, gotta admit? Pretty kickin’.” Pratchett gave Melanie a boisterous thumbs up. “Last but not least, there’s me and Albert, of course. Ready to kick off the illusion when you are.”

“Thank you,” Cheryl said. “All of you – thank you.” They weren’t many. They weren’t even all living. But they could be enough. Cheryl Roxanne Lewis truly believed they could be enough.

They would have to be.

-------

Mick slowed as he approached the archway of Prettyboy College. The sign declared the university’s name, so no, Mick hadn’t just misheard Metastophelous. Mick flew past the Prettyboy College sign so fast he almost couldn’t read it. “Okay – can you give me more information now? He phased into one of the stone pillars of the arch, grateful to finally have a moment to hide. Generally Mick went underground if he needed stealth, but here the roads were covered in salt, and even the grass wasn’t safe with all the particles kicked up by tires and carried in boot treads.

To his disappointment, Metastophelous’s first words were, “No invisibility, to the living or dead this time around. You’re serving as guard-slash-escort to one Cassidy Jackson – oooh, and some guy named Jonathan, too! I love when these missions are complex!”

“So that’s why I can’t be invisible – I’m guarding them. From who, what, where…?”

“It’s a ‘who’ this time. Probably multiple whos, to be honest, but, eh, semantics. My records specify Prof Bardsley. Y’know the mafia guy with the glasses and the hair and the ‘I kill things to watch ‘em squirm’ kinda grin?”

“…Sure. But he’s back at Town Hall – this should be okay - ”

“Wellll, about that – see, posts were coming in pretty fast, stuff got delayed, it’s finals week...Point is, the Bard’s already here. If only he was an English professor, that’d be a great nickname…”

“What about Cassidy and Jonathan?”

“Wellll, about that – “

“They’re still around, aren’t they?”

“Don’t yell at me, kid – you try keepin’ track of the timeline over four pages of posts, and that’s this round alone and it doesn’t count all the ridiculous stuff they talk about in the chat. And don’t forget, I can still mark you down for a trip to the lower floors, mafia-boy.”

Mick held his tongue. “Okay – sorry. Where are they?”

“Looks like they just left the Bard’s office.”

“Where’s that?”

“Micky, I’m looking at Prettyboy’s website and lemme just say, I think it’d be faster if you went in and looked for the office number.”

“Okay, Meta, this sort of thing is why I don’t always trust your computers.”

“It’s not the computer that’s the problem, it’s these terrible web developers!”

Mick was not wild about entering the college with Bardsley in there somewhere. But, he reminded himself, Bardsley was alive and Mick was a ghost; even bound by purgatory, he was probably fairly safe from the guy.

The problem is that if he wants, I bet Bardsley can call in the rest of the mafia. And Pallada’s with them. I really, really, really do not want to fight her again.

Mick summoned his courage and phased out onto the lawn of Prettyboy. Two students - "Nice try, Micky, but no dice, that isn't them." - staggered to a halt just in front of him. They blinked. Mick raised his hands to show he was unarmed.

“…Hi. I’m Mick. I’m from out of town. …You don’t happen to know where Professor Bardsley’s office is, do you?”


Mick phased through the door of an office labeled with the professor’s name. There was nothing much to see, at least, nothing Mick noticed.

“Hm. Very carefully look at the stuff on the desk and tell me what it is, Micky. If you need to go slow on some of the bigger words, that’s okay. Just sound them out.”

Mick read a few of the titles and headings on the pages. Still nothing he thought interesting, and Meta’s increasingly irritable snorts that signaled Mick to move to the next document suggested the demon wasn’t finding anything useful there, either.

“They must’ve already gotten to it. Well – at least we know there’s nothing they missed. Now you just have to find them. I think they went down the hall – no, not that way – I swear, not a strategic bone in your incorporeal little body…”

Outside the building and following Meta’s directions, Mick asked, “What’d they take that’s so important, anyway?”

“None’ya. It wouldn’t be useful to you anyways, so don’t go thinking that. What’s important is that the Bard’s gonna throw a royal fit when he finds that missing, so you’d better hightail it, kid.”

SPOILER: Click to show

Cheryl gets to the studio and thanks the gang. The floor is open for more interaction if anyone wants.

Mick gets to Prettyboy and gets debriefed (though he’s not told exactly what Cassidy and Jonathan took) and heads out after them. PFA, you’re welcome to have Mick catch up if you want, just to hustle this thing along.

Apologies for any errors or general…flatness in this post.

[Celestial]

Lucille smiled widely as she saw Cheryl finally enter. It took her long enough, though it was fine. It allowed her some time to think and focus more on the mission ahead.

"Hello, Ms. Lewis!" she waved to her, although she was not sure if Cheryl could actually see her. "Im' glad you finally decided to join us. I didn't want to discuss things with you out on the streets where they could hear us," Lucille leaned down onto the table, concentrating so she did not go through it, and folded her hands. "Now...we have a lot of work ahead. And first of all, we need weapons and strategy. Furthermore, there's the issue of how to counteract that potion."

"Everyone, tell us everything you know. But...I believe I have a solution to that potion," Lucille sighed. "We either don't kill them but I admit that poses the risk of them breaking free, somehow. So, what we have to do, as soon as we kill them, we have to work fast. Burn their corpse, get rid of it, make sure they can't be resurrected and exorcise their ghost. We won't be safe until we do that. But to do all this, we're going to need to be sneaky. The night is going to have to be our ally."

-----

The trip to the post office allowed her some time to recover from the salting she recieved and in between learning to pick up objects again and letting Julie know all that had happened, including telling her that she was still alive and thanking her for publishing her research, Pallada felt so much better. Traitors could be dealt with, either killed or scared into submission. Resistances could be crushed and she knew it would be fun doing that, since it would involve studying their weaknesses, learning to think like them, using examples from history to learn from and devise the best strategies to combat the threat they faced in the present and finally, getting to crush them. She would enjoy the process and the result, start to finish. And besides, it was such an interesting phenomenon. All around, despair and defiance mixed into one glorious soup that usually accompanied a shift in paradigms. It was the same feeling that was felt in revolutions or at the end of wars when a new monarch took the throne. She loved it! While Diana felt she was a little rusty, time in the void away from books or any new research would do that to you, she relished honing her skills again. All her skills.

It saddened her a little she would not be calling the shots but at the same time, it seemed like the one in charge was Professor Bardsley. Good. It was best somebody who was not a fool took over, certainly better than that moron who insisted he was in a reality show. She felt comfortable with Bardsley in charge of this mafia. And she had his ear, clearly. A collaborative partner, her intellectual equal, that was worth its weight in gold. And if Julie joined them, if she got her partner in crime back, Pallada felt like it would be heaven.

A commotion rose up from the centre of town. She drifted out just in time to see Morty executed, the knife slicing cleanly through his neck. Masterful. The professor knew his business. If only he had been part of her colleagues in Wafflenet. Between him, her, Julie and Dan, they could have ruled that town. He was far better than that traitor, Mick. But most people- no, most things were better than Mick.

So it riled Pallada slightly when a ghost drifted up to the good professor and began insulting him! How dare she! She did not know a thing. The professor, much like Diana herself, was a great mind. What did she know and who was she to judge them?

But as she watched her closer, Pallada suddenly burst out laughing. The girl was...positively adorable in her naivity. She was the sort of person who genuinely believed that the government was here to help you and that good would ultimately truimph over evil. Pallada drifted closer to hear the professor's reply. She smiled widely and nodded, agreeing with him. Her face broke into a grin.

"If you please, professor, I would like to add an addendum to your already excellent speech," she smiled and drifted over to the girl, almost flitting around her. "You are a fool. You are the last gasp of a dying regime, fighting against the new paradigm shift. You can't possibly understand so you try to attack ad hominem. Professor Bardsley is a great man and I believe he is doing great work. In fact, you should be honoured. Not every town becomes such a hub of an experiment. You will make history!" she exclaimed and laughed. "Well, not you per say but that's the thing, you are not important. The important ones are the ones who act, like the good professor here. His name will be remembered. You, you are a footnote in a footnote, a birth and a death certificate, statistics," she grinned at the word. "And you cannot change a thing. Because the thing is, good does not truimph over evil. The conqueror who murdered his own family to get the throne can live a long, happy life and die peacefully in his sleep. So don't be hoping for a downfall or a happy ending. There's no such thing. And you shall certainly not insult those who are far more superior to you in order to make up for how insignificant you are."

Diana chuckled. That was more than a mere addendum. But she made her point quite clearly.

"Apologies, Professor Bardsley," she turned around and smiled at him. "I'm afraid I got a little carried away. But you must understand. I love my work as you love yours and in this town, I can see what is happening here. It's beautiful. Thank you to you and your colleagues for making it happen," she glanced at the bleeding corpse of Morty. "Now that your power is secure, what do you say? Do you think perhaps we can begin compiling the results of this event?" she thought for a moment. "And could I use your office to do my writings in? I'm afraid mine is hundreds of miles away, even if it has not been given up to some green fool."

SPOILER: Click to show

Lucille gets down to business, to defeat the huns, mafia.

Pallada feels better after sending the letter to Julie and muses about how she's going to enjoy her time in Aifam, with so many interesting things to do. She witnesses the execution of Morty and listens as Lilliana chews out Bardsley, getting a bit angry in the process. She adds in her own two cents, saying that Lilliana is insignificant and should not fight against historical forces and not take out her anger on those who are significant. She then suggests that she and Bardsley begin to compile their research and asks if she could use his office for writing purposes.