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“When I was sixteen, I started to abuse ritalin.” The expression on the psychiatrist's face was one Every was familiar with. Her eyes held judgment, her lips pressed into a thin line of concern. The wrinkles around her mouth showed that she was unsure of how to respond to such an open admittance to substance abuse. “And, I often paired it with alcohol as I got older.” Idly, she rocked back and forth in her chair, her legs were perched on the table of her apartment. It was a neutral area that the woman had seemed interested in seeing. Whether or not it was because Every had admitted to her on the phone that she was a vampire, and she wanted to see her supposed ‘lair’, the shadow didn’t particularly care.

As the woman had entered the living area, she hadn’t missed the way that blue eyes searched the walls for vampire aesthetic. Surprise had been evident when she’d found the fridge full of food for the humans in Every’s life and the blood sealed in a bottle. The fact Every still had the receipt from where she’d purchased it sitting on the counter had startled the woman beyond belief. However, once the initial shock had passed, and the casual conversations ended, they had gotten down to discussing the terms of her ‘therapy’ sessions, if she could call them as such. Silas had recommended her and so, Every had flown her from California.

“And how did that affect you?”

The question had her searching as Every lifted a shoulder. “At first I was fine, but eventually, it went bad. Doesn’t it all?” She knew her answers were vague. She could tell the frustration building behind the red headed woman’s ever calm composure. Her wraith hovered not too far away, his shadowed expression impossible to read - but Every could imagine that he wasn’t happy about the revelation. It was something Every didn’t like to talk about. However, there were always secrets that people liked to keep about themselves - addiction had ran in her family. Her cousin, herself. Both of her parents had issues regarding to alcohol, even before her father’s death, her mother had been a heavy drinker. To admit she was like her mother had Every always reluctant to talk about it.

It wasn’t until she’d witnessed Amalea’s episode, that realization that the blood thief hadn’t been in total control of herself… it reminded Every of a memory she didn’t particularly like. The memory of coming out of the worst of it all, of the evening after she’d recalled the violence, the weight of the fire extinguisher in her hands coming down against Dylan’s face. Across from her, Dr. Johnson waited patiently for a further explanation. “It started a few months after my brother died. I don’t remember the specific dates, I don’t want to.” She could feel the wraith watching her as she wet her lips. If she could imagine his expression, it would likely be one of frustration - she could almost hear his thoughts, why hadn’t I seen it? “But, long story short, eventually, I found myself at the worst point after my stepfather must’ve knocked me down. I’ve had a trigger temper when I was younger - you get what you give, and I must’ve reached my boiling point.”

Earlier in the night, Every had found herself googling statute of limitations in California. Although she’d been arrested in the past, she’d been let go due to lack of evidence. “I don’t remember the snap. But I remember the violence. And I know it happened because the memories come back in flashes, as if I were looking at them as if they were a movie. My mother, my step sister. I took a lot of time murdering my stepfather.” There was the shock that Every always saw on her face, the color starting to drain as she realized that the woman across from her had admitted a crime. That she had gotten away from it.

Across the room, she could see the wraith almost defeatedly slump. He had heard the rumors, but the discussion was something Every didn’t discuss with him. He’d found her on the beach covered in blood that night, the memory was crystal clear. “If you look up my file with the school, some of what’s been written down - anxiety, panic attacks, low appetite, irritability - they’re signs of methylphenidate addiction and the psychiatric side effects.” The woman jotted something down and Every could see she wasn’t sure about what she should do. The scent of her fear radiated, but the fact that Every hadn’t changed her position seemed to set her on ease. She’d told her at the start of it all that she wouldn’t hurt her and Every couldn’t lie.

Not any more.

“And… erm, excuse me. When did you decide to make a change?” The woman inquired after she’d recovered. “An overdose?” There was the judgemental tone again, like the one that had been present after Every had told her that she was a vampire. Every gave a shake of her head. “My sister, Lia, had asked me to come to Harper Rock a few times. I continued using up until that point… because I was in school and needed the extra boost. Lighter usage, but, after she’d asked me the first time I started teetering off. Because I knew she’d be disappointed in the woman that I was becoming - that I was becoming my mother.”

The words ‘my sister’ echoed in the room around them as Every sat in her chair. It had been some time since she’d referred to Lia as such, but she knew even now, the woman was still considered to be family. Even after everything that had happened. She shifted, ever so slightly, to lean more in the chair. Her back to the wall, her body towards the door - it was her usual position. “I used to boost my educational scores, but I also used the alcohol to escape reality. And as I was getting older, I knew I needed to stop. Lia promised me a new start in Harper Rock, but it wasn’t the one that I expected. But I knew I’d have to sober up before I could face my new reality.”

Family comes in all shapes and sizes.

Sometimes, family comes from the unexpected.

Lea gave me a journal, saying that she thinks I should write down my thoughts - I didn’t tell her that I do that already I didn’t tell her I haven’t written in about a year, but it was a nice gesture. She said it helped her and I don’t regret telling her about the episodes I used to have in the past. Anxiety, depression. In my particular case, the blackouts. Remembering what I did, but not being able to control myself - as if I were on the outside, watching a movie. We’ve gotten closer as friends after the incident down in the throne room. I haven’t had a female friend in so long like this after Lia, Nix and Reanna that I honestly almost forgot how nice it was, knowing I could be open and not be judged for something. She’s family now. She always will be.

Although he wasn’t pleased with my actions, Micah still has my back. Our relationship has always been odd. I piss him off, he pisses me off - we find a boundary and common ground. At the end of the day, however, I’m his childe. Sometimes, especially in times like these, I really have no idea what he saw in me the night he turned me. I’m stubborn, but I have never taken orders very well - even if I did, they were typically done begrudgingly. We have moments where we’re like brother and sister, and occasionally, he’s a father figure, but I’m starting to see more and more often that despite fighting like a cat and dog now and then, he will always, always have my back.

Bjorn, however, while he isn’t unexpected, he’s become the most appreciated member of ‘family’ that I have now. There’s a brother-sister aspect that I didn’t realize I needed, but I learn as much as much as I teach him in whatever… adopted presence we have. Our friendship has been a consistency that I never gave much thought to. He kept me sane during my last two stays in The Shadow Realm and he’s got a quirky personality that I find refreshing. He helps keep me on my toes during fights, reminding without intention to keep aware of my surroundings so that I shouldn’t let my guard down. While he’s got me beat on powers, I have him beat on physical strength. We take and learn to better ourselves.

Caligrace and Freyja, of course, count, but I’ve been trying to distance myself from them after everything that’s happened. I think it’ll be safer for them. Faction over family is something that I’ve repeated so many times in my head in the past, but I know for me, it was never that. As much as others would say, I doubt they’d be able to do the same. I keep thinking about the fact I died for Freyja and that’s why people thought I should die - but the truth of the matter is, for a while, I could only think about the fact Freyja was Nishaa’s childe. Not by blood, but she had adopted her. I had died a week before that, saying the same thing to Mordechai and Prudence when the former tried to kill me (stupid ****** thought I’m pro-siren and it turns out Ty is, bet that’ll be a rude awakening for him), and the ***** did kill me. She was mine. She still is mine. I just don’t know whether or not it’s safe for us to be that way.

And as always, I have Jayden. Although he keeps to himself, I know all I need to do is pick up the phone if I need something. Cash, support. I enjoy working at the garage, honestly. Neither he nor Dante question my resolve as an employee. I didn’t think I would have it out for management. Personally, I still question his sanity about putting me in charge of the others… but at the same time, at least he trusts me enough to run his business. He’s still the annoying little brother-thing, but I don’t think I’d have gotten this far without him.

I've changed in the years I've been here in Harper Rock. It's something I admit I had trouble with at first, but I'm not the same person I used to be. I don't run any more, it never solved anything. And, if it weren't for Micah putting up with my ****, I wouldn't have been able to. If it hadn't been for Jayden, I wouldn't be able to say that I have a stable home. With Lea's help, I realized I need to admit more to my faults - and the darkness that's been inside me for years. And Bjorn... he's made me realize I need to be more stable in my ability to fight, and fight for what I care for.

OOC wrote:The following is an unsent email to Curtis Spade.

Dear Blondie,

From the moment I stepped into Harper Rock, I knew everything was going to be different.

I didn’t know that I would become a vampire. I didn’t know that I would join Tytonidae, or that I would later be one of the five individuals who helped release an ancient vampire whether indirectly or directly - it changes, depending on who you ask. Legally, I wouldn’t be held responsible and neither would Amalea. Locryn would, but admittedly, that was my plan if we went that route and my instincts hadn’t been correct. It should have hurt the night that Velveteen told me that I was a disgrace, but I spent a lot of my life thinking that. Her input didn’t really sting one way or another.

That’s a cold feeling when in one considers the fact I do respect her, but as I sit here writing this, I can’t help but feel its the truth. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, where could everything could have possibly gone wrong? I can still feel every ounce of anger in my core directed at the faction, but I have to wonder if some of it was displaced at the situation. I’m absolutely floored every one of them had more nerve to believe a video over the fact I could show them everything that happened down there in the throne room, right down to the telepathic conversations that Ariadne’s ‘evidence’ left out.

Yet, in other ways, I don’t believe it’d make much of a difference. Tytonidae died with the masquerade, whether or not any of them want to believe it. It wasn’t until the other day when I realized Velveteen removed me that I had been holding to the title, unable to let go. I hold a lot of disappointment in regards to the masquerade. When it fell, I lost a bit of a purpose. I didn’t know up from down. I lost something that I’d put a lot of effort into, and I can’t imagine how Vel or Micah feels - as they had placed more into it than I. I understand more now why they both retreated to the Eyrie, and why Micah makes himself available to those who ask for it.

I probably should have come to him when I found the key. In some ways, I still don’t understand why I don’t - maybe I felt I shouldn’t have bothered him. Maybe I really just wanted the information I was hoping to trade for it. I’ve always been reluctant to ask for help, too, and I think it’s one of the reasons despite the fact he bitched me out over the decisions made, he understood why I needed to do it myself. Out of everything, I feel bad that I let him down.

When the masquerade fell, part of me felt that way. That I failed. That I let him down, even if as a group, we failed to maintain it. I don’t know why it was significant to me, but it was. I think when I noticed everyone was starting to go their different ways, that I needed to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault because I kept fighting for it. Maybe it was because of my need to control something I couldn’t control, too. But I think at that moment, I also knew I needed to focus more on survival, more than anything.

I miss you.

E.

After Silas got to hear about my mass murder/snap, he decided I need to talk more about the future.

In some ways, I think he needs to can it before I dispel him across the city. Anyway. He mentioned that currently, I’m one of the reasons that the masquerade fell and that there is currently now a hauntingly beautiful ancient vampire roaming around. Like the others, he’s seemed to have painted it to be entirely the fault of three people and not the others, but I digress.

He asked me about the future.

What do I want for myself? What do I want for the city?

Do I plan to run and hide if things go to ****?

(Of course this is where I told him to take a look around us, but he told me to shut it or he’ll find a way to come back whole just to punch me.)

I think first and foremost, I want to make the city to become a safe haven. Even if just part of it, that would be a significant goal in the long run. I know that sounds counterproductive to the hell that the five of us unleashed on the city, but despite what others think, I didn’t want the zombies set free everywhere. I want to make the city have an understanding that we need to co-exist, even if it’s on uncommon ground. We need humans as much as they’ll eventually see they need us - maybe not in the way that vampires think, however.

I wouldn’t be proud of being written down as one of the people who supposedly started the apocalypse. Dramatic, I know, but people are stupid and they’ve already shown to jump into the worst of assumptions. I suppose at the bottom of everything, I want to be known as a fighter. I’m not going to go down without a fight, regardless of what the fight is about.

Currently, that’s between the paladin and the fae.

My brain still can’t wrap around how the Administrator and Theodosia are connected, either, but I want to be the one who figures that out entirely, too.

I want to be known for fighting against the odds.

OOC wrote:The following is an unsent email to Amalea.

Lea,

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to why you’ve seen me up and down. Particularly, in how I’ve felt regarding the city as a whole, etc. I don’t know why, but sometimes I think that the fall of the masquerade is one of the reasons we found ourselves on this path. And, in some ways, it’s not a bad thing. Other ways… it isn’t good nor bad. What if we could get the masquerade back up somehow? Theodosia did say that the rift is closing would be possible, but there were still cracks. I wonder if we could have done it, honestly, without having everything explode anyway.

Sometimes, I can’t wrap my brain around everything, but in other ways… would it even be worth it? Would the entire concept just fall back to pieces? If the Administrator and Theodosia could bring back the masquerade, should we even fight to protect it? They’re only questions I’m asking, but something in my gut tells me that it wouldn’t be worth fixing. Not after everything.

There’s an uneasy peace in the city. You and I are proof that vampires and humans can get along - Flynn and Azraeth. We can work together, but we have to find something familiar. Even if I remembered every single piece of history that’s happened, and I’m written off as delusional, I don’t think our kind would learn from our mistakes. I would work as hard as I could to keep it up as much as possible… but could we sustain it?

I suppose I should explain where this all came from.

I had a dream the other night, everything was reset. There was the masquerade in place, but I knew everything I did. I knew what steps I could take. But.. the longer it went on in the dream, I don’t know if it were the best steps that could be taken. I don’t think what happened is the worst thing ever, but those thoughts go against everything Micah and Velveteen taught me.

Maybe it’s the fact I’ve settled, that I have had to fight to get where I am now, but I would fight harder.

I know that much.

Evee.

OOC wrote:This post was added after the deadline.

There was a piece of gravel digging into her knee as she crouched down in the woods, the smell of the bonfire going nearby wafting over her senses. In her hand, there were pictures that she’d been slowly adding to the fire, her doppelganger standing nearby. The shadow creature watched her, waiting for instruction, but when nothing came, she drifted elsewhere. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you appear more human than you do now. Huddled aside for warmth.” The female voice had Every looking up, Locryn approaching with a smile playing across her lips. “I’m not huddled by the fire for warmth.” The shadow scowled before she looked down at the picture she’d been contemplating about tossing in the flames.

“What are you doing back here?”

Every asked before she ultimately tossed the picture of her and Hadrian into the fire. It was the last one that she owned, the last piece of a memory she wanted to let go. Some of the pictures she’d brought with her were to set aflame, the others to remember. The next in her hand held was of herself and Nishaa - a rarity of her headache, the first childe whom Every truly cared for. The sight of it caused her lips to lift. “Amalea told me where to find you. She said you’ve been antisocialing and I thought you’d need some cheering up.” Every crinkled her nose and then huffed. But otherwise said nothing as her former thrall drew closer.

“Who is that?” She asked, “You’ve never seemed happier.”

“That, is my childe, Nishaa. She went quiet a few years ago, but I met her by chance - she tried to mug me.” Her lips twitched softly as she adjusted to sit back in the grass. Her leg stretched out in front of her. “She’s… a little odd. My headache.” A little odd was the light way to put it. At the time of her turning, she’d been dying of blood loss and had called Every a white rabbit. “I miss her, but she’s her own person. I just hope she’s doing well.” She admitted, ignoring the way her former thrall was watching her.

The steady beat of Locryn’s heart had Every sighing before she tucked the picture into the box of images she was keeping. “She’s one of the reasons I told myself to stop running from everything. She shot me in the head the last time I tried to.” She gave a shrug of her shoulder.