Gone But Not Forgotten

[acrookedchild]

The last day of October has many meanings, as does almost every holiday. For a Widdowson, Samhain means one of two things, it not both.

Samhain might be a time to tap into the powerful magic that has bled into the walls of Geap Manor, centuries of darkness, sacrifice, and rituals mean to increase the abilities of those who walked these halls. It might also be a time to remember the dead, as the Widdowson line is filled with those who left the world earlier than they perhaps should have.

Abigail Widdowson has embraced the latter.

A great deal of the supernatural community is in mourning. Between the fae's attack on Croyden, the battle in Barnet between the circles, the Blood Moon, and the Islington 'recruitment drive' there are many dead who would otherwise be alive. Which is why Abigail has opened her home on Samhain to all those who wish to remember the ones lost.


(Headings will be provided but feel free to make your own! The whole of the supernatural community has been invited, again with the warning that hostilities will not be tolerated.)

Comments

[acrookedchild]

"I'm the first Widdowson in five generations to join a coven," Abigail muttered, smiling just a bit. Because it seemed so unreal. All she'd wanted was to study at Redbright, to set herself apart from her family's past. Now... Now, she was embracing it. "Apparently, I can't do anything small."

A soft, almost worried laugh left her.

"But there's a truce right now. Midnight and Daybreak."

[damnyank]

"Hey, as long as it's what you want, kid." Because if it's not, then Abigail will drive the whole coven into the ground-- she'll grow to hate it, to hate the people involved, and it'll be a lasting hate, to carry with her. Jackson should know.

He gives a firm squeeze of her shoulder, which is as comforting as Jackson gets.

"Is there? Well, that makes my job easier."

[acrookedchild]

"Missus Redbright and I came to an understanding."

It was all she could say, really. After all, anything said here might well get back to Redbright. Maybe not from Jackson. He doesn't seem the type. But they aren't entirely alone, and walls can always have ears.

"So, yes. The Circles are, for now, at a truce."

[damnyank]

"When you say understanding, I take it that you're being liberal," he says, as he makes quick, idle work of stacking the cards into a deck. "She seems the type of dame to drive a hard deal."

It's true. She's smart for being cautious, and Jackson's a fool for being so loose-lipped, but part of being Homer Jackson is being careless and brazen. When you're forced to deal with something you want no part in -- in this case, turf wars -- one tends to make a joke of it.

"What are the terms?"

[acrookedchild]

"Non-aggression on both sides." Of course, there's more to it than that, but it's all that's worth saying about it. For now. "It's safer for both sides."

Mostly for Sylvia, but it would keep the Midnight girls somewhat safe. If she connected Daybreak to any harm that came to them, she would unleash Hell upon them.

[damnyank]

"I don't trust her." Short, to the point. Perhaps it casts a dark light on Jackson's character that he disdains an individual that he, in a sense, follows, as a member of Daybreak. "Brightred comes off like the kinda person who'd tear the sky down before giving up on her principles."

Jackson leans closer to Abigail, whispering into the shell of her ear. "What I'm sayin' is keep both eyes open. Your whole truce might evaporate before you know it."

[acrookedchild]

At his whisper, Abigail turns her head toward him a bit. Her voice is barely above a murmur. Definitely meant not to be overheard by anyone else.

"She brought a vampire into our negotiations. I do not trust her in the slightest."

And that wasn't even the worst thing that had been done to her that night. But she couldn't say anything about that. Not here. She didn't dare mention it aloud.

[damnyank]

Jackson immediately stiffens upon hearing the word vampire. He goes quiet for a beat, eyes sweeping across Abigail. Though Jackson doesn't know enough to draw more than an assumption, he knows very well how dangerous and volatile vampires can be.

"Why?" Or more importantly. "Was the vampire there to threaten you?"

[acrookedchild]

Abigail offers only a nod.

She wants to leave it at that, just make it something remarked upon but not otherwise a focus of attention. But mentioning it brings back the memories. Seeing the fangs, feeling the hold, the hands on her, her mouth being forced open. She shudders visibly and closes her eyes tight to keep tears from falling.

It takes several seconds before she can stand up straight and open her eyes, though she knows she still looks ready to cry. When she can finally swallow the lump in her throat, she only says, "An ace up her sleeve, you could say."