[Deleted]

The breeze carried Lilaine's sigh away with it as it went past. The redhead was seated at one of the quaint little café tables outside the establishment, sipping on a steaming cup of Tazo Darjeeling tea. It was a little warm out to be drinking hot tea, but the breeze kept her feeling comfortable. Lilaine had always been of the opinion that drinking hot beverages in the heat would make her exterior feel cooler, in any case.

A week had gone by since she had come to this city, exiled from her home in Beverly Hills. She and her mother rarely saw eye to eye. Over the years, she had tried various schemes to try and impress the woman, but her mother's lack of interest and Lilaine's inability to commit to anything long term had caused the opposite to happen. If she was being honest, being away from the toxic environment perpetuated in her family's home was probably for the best. For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she could move and breathe without being constantly judged. Now, if she could just follow through with going to classes for the next four years, maybe her relationship with her mother could be repaired.

Another sigh. Four years. The longest she had ever stuck with anything up until now was probably closer to six months. Classes had not even started yet and she already felt the pressure of being locked in.

Taking another sip, she repositioned herself in her seat and lifted her book from the table where it had been laying open. She would spend her morning with Elizabeth Bennet and try to forget that being sent here was a punishment. Grandmama had tried to convince her that being away from it all was a new sort of freedom. A place where, as long as she went to class and did the things she was supposed to, she could also do things she wanted to do. Trying to keep that in mind, she was quickly engrossed in pages of romance and civility. She was so ensconced that, at first, she did not notice the,  now, lukewarm tea spilling across the table. That is, until it collided with her bare elbow. Without thinking, she pushed back from the table, quickly standing up. So quickly, in fact, that she dropped her book to the ground and bumped into the person whom she could only assume had accidentally knocked into the table in the first place.

"Oh, God," the words were tumbling out of her mouth, "I'm so sorry!"

[Evening Cadieux]

As inconspicuously as possible, Eve trotted along behind a middle-aged man on his way to work. Stalking strangers wasn’t a habit of hers (if someone had an interesting thought, she would simply ask about it rather than chase them down and hope their mind would provide answers), but she didn’t want to interrupt his flow. He was an author, and he imagined the scenes of his next book as he walked. She couldn't see what he was undoubtedly picturing, but she could hear the dialogue. It was a fantasy drama with strong soap opera elements, full of evil doppelgangers and long-lost siblings and forbidden affairs, and when he decided to make the next villain the presumed-dead lover of the hero, she almost squealed. What a cheesy twist! She loved it.

It was a little too warm for one of her floor-length gowns so she’d settled for a knee-length frock with sheer puff sleeves instead. Black, of course. As if she’d be seen in anything else. She got some odd looks from passerbys – being dressed as she was in the height of summer and stepping so closely to a man who appeared blissfully oblivious of her presence, even as she tipped her head closer to hear the murmurs from his brain. She probably looked like she was trying to smell him.

He stopped, without warning, outside a café.

In her haste to avoid colliding with his back, Eve skittered edgeways and bumped into a table instead. Its sole occupant – a young woman with gorgeous auburn hair – shot up from her seat. She knocked into Eve's side, almost headbutting her, and Eve teetered backwards. Her eyes widened while her hands flew up to cover the 'o' of her mouth, instantly in fear of a confrontation.

“Goodness! I’m so sorry,” she gasped, her apology overlapping with the other woman’s. Luckily, she seemed as flustered as she was; Eve's face would have burned even redder if the stranger had been angry, yelling at her to watch where she was going.

Something had bounced off her foot during the collision and she glanced down to see a book splayed out on the floor. Pride and Prejudice. A classic. She hurriedly picked it up and brushed it off, smoothing out a few creased pages before holding it towards the stranger with both hands and a tentative smile. Eve’s heels put them at a similar height but the redhead appeared to be closer in age to Eve’s sister. Perhaps a student at the university?

“Oh dear… your drink,” she sighed. There was a spill on the table, undoubtedly caused by Eve’s coltish movements. She withdrew one of her hands from the book to pull some tissues from her drawstring purse, then used them to soak up as much of the liquid as possible. As she cleaned, she threw glances at the stranger from the corner of her eye. “Did any of it get on you? Are you hurt? Let me buy you a new one. Please, I’m about to buy myself one anyway.” Eve had not been about to buy a drink. But if this girl were anything like Sunny, she probably relied on caffeine to get her though her studies and considered café-made drinks a rare treat. It was expensive for students to go to coffee shops! They had classes to pay for! And the man Eve had been tuning into like a podcast was long gone; there was no reason for her to go running elsewhere. 


@lilaine

[Deleted]

The whole situation was a little overwhelming for the younger woman, having wrenched her mind from one world into the next so quickly, that for a brief moment, all she could do was stare at the other woman. It took a few seconds to truly absorb what she was seeing. If Lilaine had not been so captivated by the subtle nuances of romance between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (despite this being her one hundred and eighteenth read through, to date), she definitely would have noticed the woman walking towards the table long before she had collided with it. This woman stood out in what, Lilaine promptly decided, was an endearing way. She had the kind of energy that was both other and exciting. It made Lilaine want to know more about her. Suddenly, the woman bent forward and the spell was broken.

Blushing profusely, she accepted the well loved book from the woman's hands when she straightened and held it out to her. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she murmured, "Thank you."

It was not until the woman started fussing over the spilled drink that she sprang back into action. She did her best to help sop up the mess, which had only spread over one corner of the table. Some had dripped onto the concrete, but that could not be helped. The summer heat would dry it soon enough. At the inquiry, she remembered that the thing that had startled her had, in fact, been tea soaking her elbow. Glancing down at the right sleeve of her yellow, ruffled P.A.R.O.S.H. crop top, she saw that the elastic edge of it had turned a brownish, orange color. She shrugged, not really that bothered by it. It was just a shirt, after all, and it was not even one of her expensive ones. Besides, the dry cleaners had never failed her yet.

At the woman's offer, Lilaine shook her head, causing her high pony tail to whip about at the motion, "No, no," she said, a little more forcefully than she had meant to, "That's not necessary! It's totally fine. Really, I'm okay." Even though her mother had given her a smaller allowance for her time here, her Grandmama had reminded her that most people were not afforded the same luxuries as her. They were not in Beverly Hills. This was not Rodeo Drive. The average person was just trying to get by and it would be super shitty if she let a stranger buy her a replacement drink. At least, that was how she had felt at the end of the conversation with Grandmama. God, was that right? Or was it rude to turn down an offer like this?

Her mind was racing with trying to decide between the two, so that, eventually, what spilled from her lips was, "But I'm more than happy to let you make it up to me by letting me buy two new drinks and you telling me more about this beautiful city. I'm new here, so that would make us even."

[Evening Cadieux]

The woman shook her head, firmly turning down the offer in a way that suggested she wouldn’t be argued with. Eve decided not to push the matter lest it make the stranger uncomfortable. Still, she bit her lip. She really should have been more careful. Especially since (having recently drawn The Tower from her tarot deck) she knew an accident had been on the horizon. She should have stayed in her apartment for a few days, metaphorically bubble-wrapped herself until she had a minor mishap that would satisfy the prophecy without involving others. That’s what she usually did.

She tried to tune in to the stranger’s thoughts to ensure she was truly unharmed. They were rapid, and it was a little difficult to hear them over the surrounding chatter of café patrons, but Eve picked up enough of the woman’s inner dialogue to know she was struggling to identify the politest course of action. It was sweet. The kind of mind Eve preferred to listen to. No ulterior motives, not wanting anything in return, just trying to be kind for kindness’ sake. She smiled softly.

The woman ultimately decided information on Los Eurosia would be sufficient repayment. Eve perked up, her lips curling into a more excited grin as she was struck with an idea. “I can do more than that.” She stopped wiping down the table to reach into her purse again, pulling out a navy business card with silver foiled lettering and illustrations on the front. The back was much simpler, with only her store’s location and an email address meant for arranging tarot readings. Unfortunately the printing company had made an error (the cards were supposed to be jet black! Not navy!) but she hadn’t filed a complaint; it seemed a minor detail to fuss over and the colour matched the style of Moondweller’s Cauldron well enough.

She presented the card with a flourish and a wink. “You must come to my store sometime. I’ll give you a free reading. Even if you don’t believe in magic right now, you will. That’s a promise.” She could almost feel her eyes shining. She adored non-believers. Or rather, she adored seeing them march into her shop a few days after their reading, baffled that her predictions had come true and demanding another one to check it wasn’t a fluke. Believers were fun too but in a completely different way; she loved to compare methods, to share spells and discuss the moon's influence on current events with someone who actually understood what she was ranting so passionately about.

She pressed her fingertips to her chest, dipping forward into a tiny bow. “My name’s Evening, but most people call me Eve. Welcome to Los Eurosia.” She straightened and collected the sodden tissues from the table, throwing them into a bin she passed as she lead the way into the café. It was a bit emptier inside (it looked like most people wanted to enjoy the sunshine that day) and the cool air conditioning blowing across her shoulders drew an involuntary shudder from Eve as she stepped through the door. “I’m a bit of a newcomer myself to be honest, but I like to think I know a thing or two about what goes on around here. Are you a student at the university? My little sister goes there, maybe I could put you in touch.”

Once in the queue, she spun around to fully face the redhead again, and held up a finger with her best imitation of a pre-school teacher lightly chiding a class. “You’re not allowed to buy me a drink. I’m the one who bumped into you.” Not to mention she didn’t really want one… though, she would never say no to hibiscus tea at any time of day. Her expression softened again. “But if you’re adamant I can’t pay for yours, let’s buy our own. Deal?”


@lilaine

[Deleted]

Bright gray eyes observed the woman with curiosity when she told Lilaine that she could do much more than tell her about Los Eurosia. They followed her hands as the woman reached into her purse for something. The only things in Lilaine's purse were a sleeve containing her black card and her license, her yellow sunglasses, and her cell phone. When she was not reading, she also kept her book in there. She was interested in what other people kept in their bags. Some people had bags that were overflowing with random things and some people were as minimalist as she was. It was always fascinating to find out what kind of person someone was. Her curiosity was only partially satisfied when the woman handed her a business card with pretty silver lettering. Accepting it from her, she quickly scanned the writing on it while the woman offered her a free tarot reading. Moondweller's Cauldron: Metaphysical supplies and Tarot readings, it read. On the back was an email address and a physical address.

"Tarot readings," Lilaine inquired with genuine interest, "I'm going to be honest; I'm not really sure what a tarot reading actually is. I mean, like," she stopped, blushing, and feeling like an idiot. Her mother did not approve of such things and she tended to stay away from things her mother did not approve of if she could help it. Still, she was not at home now. As far as she knew, her mother also was not spying on her to track her every movement. It was not outside the realm of possibilities, but she was under the impression that as long as she stayed out of trouble, that her mother assumed Grandmama would suffice. Hopefully, that meant she had the freedom to explore things her mother did not approve of as long as she did the things her mother asked of her. "I know that it's, like, fortune telling and stuff. I just... I've never seen it done," she finished, somewhat lamely. "I'd honestly really love to give it a try."

Smiling at Evening's introduction, she tried to emulate the woman's movements by similarly pointing to herself and trying a little bow. She was not sure that she pulled it off. She just hoped that Evening did not think it was rude. "Thank you. Nice to meet you, Eve. My name's Lilaine, but a lot of people think that it's weird and hard to remember, so they just call me Lily. I don't hate it," she shrugged.

Lilaine followed Evening into the cafè, enjoying the way the chill air conditioned air cooled her skin and raised her little hairs to create gooseflesh. That was one of her favorite sensations, for whatever reason. "Yes, I'm a student. My classes don't start until next week, but I'd love to meet your sister. It's always nice to have someone familiar in a new place. And it probably couldn't hurt to have a study buddy," she said, laughing almost nervously at the thought of the start of school.

Evening's sudden about face and fake authoritative expression made her giggle softly, "It's really not a big deal," she grinned, "Things happen." Shrugging again, she said, "If that's what you prefer, I won't argue." Mostly because she was not sure of the etiquette she should follow. Sometimes, it was best to accept the situation as presented. "How long have you been here? What are your favorite places so far," she asked as they approached the counter. True to her word, when they came to the front, she only ordered for herself, opting for an iced chai this time, tapping her phone against the card reader to pay with apple pay.

[Evening Cadieux]

(CW: very small description of car crash, death)


“Lilaine’s not a weird name,” Eve chided softly, smiling to keep the conversation light. She didn’t ask who told the redhead such a thing, wary that doing so would potentially dredge up negative memories even if she appeared unbothered. Eve herself had been subject to name criticism (some kids had found it hilarious she was named after a time of day), though it was no longer an insecurity of hers and hadn't been since she was twelve. She’d grown into it well; it suited her. Suited the mystical image she was always reaching for.

She gave Lilaine an encouraging shoulder bump, noticing the nervousness in her laugh when she mentioned classes would be starting soon. “Hey now, I’m sure you’ll do great.” She truly meant it. Lilaine was a very sweet girl; they’d known each other for less than five minutes and Eve was ready to sign adoption papers. She would definitely have to ask for her number or social media usernames and help her connect with Sunny. Her sister would surely be able to bring her out of her shell, maybe introduce her to the sports teams and encourage her to try new things – get her to stop policing her behaviour out of fear her mother was tracking her (and really, wasn’t that an alarming thought).

Eve ordered and paid for a hibiscus tea and hummed thoughtfully as she moved along the counter to the waiting area. “I moved here from Virginia around a year ago. I thought it was time for a change but, honestly, a big part of it had to do with my sister moving here. We’ve always lived close together. I’d have missed her.” She bit her lip. Hearing herself say it out loud made her wonder if she was overbearing – or at the least co-dependent. Maybe she should have let Sunny go and let them both figure out who they were without the other. But when she tried to imagine not seeing her little sister for weeks – let alone months – her heart clenched uncomfortably. Phone calls and texts would only soothe the distance between them for so long. Was she like Lilaine's mother? Making Sunny feel watched? Trapped?

It wasn’t worth fretting over. Moving to Los Eurosia was the right choice; her store was doing as well as she’d predicted and even if Sunny sometimes rolled her eyes or called her fussy, she never pulled out of her hugs or turned down the meals Eve offered. She was sure Sunny was grateful to have her nearby, deep down.

“As for my favourite places… Los Eurosia’s National Forest is definitely worth the trip if you like nature walks. Please stick to the official trails though.” It was a bit hypocritical; Eve strayed from the beaten path on almost every visit to search for herbs for her store (why order something online when she knew how to find and collect it for free?). But she had a good sense of direction and usually left some form of Hansel and Gretel trail, and she would never forgive herself if she heard Lilaine had gotten lost in the trees.

She struggled to think of other places. Maybe she didn’t get out as much as she’d previously believed. Well, she did, but she didn’t often go anywhere specific; if she wasn’t in her store or the park she mostly strolled aimlessly around Downtown, latching onto whichever minds caught her interest. It could be fun to go to a bar and get drinks with her (very few) friends but nightclubs certainly weren’t her scene. It was often too loud to talk, too loud to hear thoughts, and any strangers that approached her were likely interested in something Eve really couldn’t give them – not unless they wanted to go on a series of dates first (they never did). Besides, even if Lilaine was interested in the nightlife, she didn't seem quite old enough to legally drink yet and Eve decided it wouldn't be right to actively encourage her to.

“I hear the local library is very nice,” Eve said, thinking of the book Lilaine dropped. The university’s collection would surely be bigger but likely contained more scientific texts than fiction. Plus, Sunny had never spoken about it (Eve sometimes wondered if she ever studied at all, let alone in a place full of other similarly aged people she could get distracted by) and in her few visits to the campus she’d never been inside. “And the movie theatre.” Again, Eve hadn’t been. She was relying on what she picked up from strangers.

The barista placed their drinks in front of them and she picked hers up with a smile and a small murmur of thanks. Making her way outside to the table, she twirled around as she often did, always keen to swish the skirts of her dress around her legs, and was about to ask whether Lilaine wanted to sit there or if she could tempt her to walk along to Moondweller’s Cauldron. But one of her heels caught on a thick crack in the pavement mid-spin. She stumbled, teetering off the curb and into the street with a startled laugh. “Woops!”

One moment the road was there, wide open and safe as she regained her footing. The next, tires squealed. A horn blared. Her head instinctively turned and she saw it coming milliseconds before it happened. There was no time to scream, to move. She couldn't do anything. All she got was a sharp inhale of air. The car slammed into her and even her gasp was drowned out by the crunch of her bones and the shattering of glass windows.

It was the smack of her head against the tarmac that turned the world black.


@lilaine


((Eve death count: 1))

[Deleted]

A crinkled nose was Lilaine's response to Evening's assertion that her name was not weird. Granted, it was not the strangest name in her high school class, it was not exactly normal. Pilot Inspektor Lee had also attended her high school. Typically, however, when she told someone her name was Lilaine and did not specify that most people call her Lily, they ended up calling her Elaine or Lilian and she felt awkward correcting them. "Sure," she responded, in an almost compulsorily manner. Disagreeing with people, especially on such small matters as this, tended to upset her stomach. It did not matter if Evening thought her name was strange or not and was therefore not worth pursuing.

Lilaine laughed nervously when Evening bumped her encouragingly. "Yeah," she half heartedly agreed, "I just don't have a great track record with commitment. I have a great track record, though," she laughed, "My best time in the hundred meter dash is eleven point oh five seconds," she beamed, proudly, "I don't know if you know from track, but that was in second place for the fastest time of the year at nationals my sophomore year." Lilaine had always been a great runner. Track and field was one of the things that her mother had forced her to continue, despite Lilaine asking if she could quit and join an ice skating team or, at the very least, go for cross country, instead. She had been told that it would look bad on a college application if she burned her way through a different extracurricular each year, and once again, Lilaine hated arguing-especially with her mother. That was a fight she could never win. "Virginia, that's far," she said, her tone full of wonder. She had been to places like New York City, Las Vegas, and Miami, but Virginia sounded like a whole different world to her. "I wish I was that close with my sister. She's not very... approachable."

Listening to her describe her favorite places, she gave each of them consideration. "Are any of the trails good for running instead of hiking," she asked. Lilaine was not a huge fan of hiking, but running was not hiking. "I could check out the library, I guess. I haven't read the last few Bridgerton novels yet," she grinned, a bit sheepish, "Does the theatre ever do a classical movie night?" It was a long shot. In L.A., there had been several little two screen theatres that only played black and white movies, but this was definitely not L.A.

Without thinking too much about it, she grabbed her drink from the counter and followed Evening out the door. When the woman stopped to twirl her skirts around, Lilaine could not help but laugh with genuine delight. She had never met someone quite like Evening before and she rather thought that she had probably been missing out. The laughter died in her throat, however, when the woman tripped into the street. A cold, sharp feeling erupted in Lilaine's gut and all the blood drained from her face. Ever since her father's death, cars made her nervous and the street was practically a hellscape. "Eve," she attempted to shout, but her voice was weak and cracked on its way out.

It all happened so fast, and yet, somehow, every second was an eternity. Lilaine wanted to move or scream or, at the very least, run for help, but she was frozen in terror, unable to do anything at all. The chai slipped from her hand, falling towards the ground. Her eyes began to burn and she was not sure whether the sensation was from tears or some inability to blink. One heartbeat, Eve was Eve, just a half second away from a collision, and before her next heartbeat, it was her father standing there. Her throat constricted so tightly that she could not breathe and Eve was back. The world was suddenly far too bright and all the sounds were wrong. Everything was ringing... No, that was not right. Everything was ticking, like the little second hand on her father's watch, the one Lilaine wore every day. Somehow, the car had not collided with Eve yet, nor had the chai crashed into the sidewalk. Somehow, she was able to look down at her watch, as if she were both there and also not there. 11:13 AM. The tires were still squealing, but the sound was slow and reverberating as if the sound was trapped in an echoey room inside Lilaine's head. The brightness intensified, every point of light seemed to form a tail, becoming streaks. What little breath Lilaine had left in her lungs suddenly expelled and the scene exploded into action, everything hurtling to its inevitable conclusion for the briefest of moments before all the light abruptly went out altogether.



--- Second Verse, Same as the First ---



Sitting bolt upright, Lilaine clutched at her chest as she gasped for air, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. She felt sick and dizzy, unable to understand what she had just seen and reconcile it with the fact that she was now safe in her bed. Had she blacked out and been brought back to her bed, or had it all been a horribly vivid nightmare?

Trying to calm the racing of her heart, Lilaine took in her surroundings. Her bedroom looked just the same as it had when she had left it last. Wait, no, not exactly. The clothes that she had worn to the cafè were lain neatly across her dressing chair by her vanity. Had Grandmama removed them and laid them there? Why would she not have put them in the laundry basket instead... Unless it all really had been a dream. There was a horrible buzzing noise come from her bedside table and when she looked down to see what it was, she saw that it was her phone alarm going off. Reaching for it with a shaking hand, she turned the alarm off. She raised the phone in front of her to look at her schedule for the day, trying to take deep breaths and telling herself that everything was fine and that she had definitely only been dreaming.

Finally, having mostly convinced herself that none of what she had witnessed had actually happened, she dragged herself out of her bed. When she went to her clothes, however, she could not stop herself from checking the right sleeve of her shirt for the brown stain. It was not there, of course. Sighing, she almost laughed at her own foolishness. Almost. Something still felt off, but she tried to shake the feeling. It for sure felt strange to dress exactly the same as she had in the dream, though. Would that not just be asking for it to come true? She kept some of the elements, like the jeans, shoes, and belt, but when it came time to put on her shirt, she dug a different yellow crop top out of her closet. This one did not have sleeves. If she did not have sleeves, then no tea could stain them, therefore stopping the rest from happening, right? Her hands were still shaking when it came time to do her hair, so she opted for a headband and mousse over a pony tail. Grabbing her yellow Palm Angels Spirit sunglasses and her purse, she headed out of the house.

Would it be a bad idea to go to the cafè today? Had the dream been an omen of some sort? Lilaine wrestled with that thought for a while as she waited for the taxi she had called. She had never been able to bring herself to learn to drive. Every time a driving instructor had gotten her behind the wheel, she had panicked and could not make her body respond in any way that did not involve immediately exiting the vehicle. She did not love taxis, (or having a driver, like she did back home), either, but she had to move about the city somehow. In the end, some morbid curiosity won out and she directed the taxi driver to the cafè. If she did not go, it would bother her forever. On some cosmic level, Lilaine just knew she had to return to the scene of her dream.

It was strange. Everything felt exactly as it had in the dream. Even the air felt the same as it tousled her hair with a cool breeze to cool her down from the summer heat. Shaking her head to clear it, she went inside to order. Instead of Darjeeling, she opted for English Breakfast this time, trying to change more details from the dream. When she was choosing tables outside, she picked the table to the left of the one Evening had bumped into in the dream. It really did not matter-or so she kept telling herself-because there was no way on Earth that a strangely dressed Asian woman named after a time of day was going to show up. That had to have been an invention of the dream. Is that not what all those lucid dreamer gurus preached? Find the thing that does not belong and you will know you are dreaming.

Lilaine was too wired for reading, this time. Besides, the dream had been vivid enough that she remembered reading the six chapters she had read in it as if she had actually read them. She really did need to read other books, apparently. Resting her chin on her hand, she people watched as she absently swirled the tea in her cup. After awhile, she began to believe she was just being silly and started to get up and leave. That's when she saw her. There she was, walking closer than was necessarily normal behind a man with a receding hairline. Lilaine's heart stopped and she tried to force the memory of the ending of her dream out of her mind. Suddenly, the man stopped and the woman dodged to the side to avoid colliding with him, knocking into the exact table that Lilaine had sat at in what she was still hoping was a dream and not some terrible premonition.

"Eve... Evening?" Her voice was just loud enough to carry to the next table. Lilaine cringed inwardly, desperately hoping that the woman would not respond, that this was not her name, and this was all some sick cosmic joke.

[Evening Cadieux]

Eve followed the writer along the street, tipping towards him as he spun cliché tales of love and desperation until, without warning, he halted outside a café.

She narrowly avoided collision with his back, dodging sideways and bumping her hip into a (luckily unoccupied) table. The clattering noise drew the attention of several café-goers yet the man who’d indirectly caused it didn’t notice, his gaze on the café door as he briefly weighed up the pros and cons of buying a coffee or making one at his office. He shrugged and walked onwards again, diving straight back into the scene he’d left off from. Eve blinked after him, blushing profusely at herself for her clumsiness, then almost laughed; he really was oblivious to his surroundings. Were all writers so scatter-brained? But before she could follow and continue ‘story time’, a hesitant voice called her name.

Eve turned towards it with a smile, and tried not to let her confusion show when she met the worried grey eyes of an unfamiliar young woman. They had to know each other. Otherwise, how would she know Evening's name? Yet, try as she might, Eve couldn’t remember her. Had she been a customer? One of Sunny’s friends? She couldn’t imagine she would forget someone with such gorgeous hair, but maybe they had met months ago, back before her store’s grand opening when she was rushing around painting and checking stock, too focused on making everything perfect to retain the names and faces of people she fleetingly encountered.

“Oh, hello,” Eve chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The other café patrons who’d looked up had mercifully turned back to their own business, and the removal of their stares in addition to the soft breeze helped her heated face to cool back to normal. “I suppose you saw my little crash there. How embarrassing.” She carefully stepped around the table as she brushed down her dress, moving closer to bring the woman’s thoughts into range. As much as she wanted to know how the author’s story would end, the new mystery of the woman’s identity had her curious enough to let him go. Hopefully her thoughts would provide the answer – hopefully before she said anything to reveal her lack of recognition. She didn't want to offend her.

But something seemed off about the woman. Her thoughts, though Eve wasn’t quite close enough yet to hear the fully formed words, were tinged with disbelief and… maybe panic? Her brow furrowed, her lips faltering into a concerned downturn. “Hey, are you alright?” Eve seemed to be the likely cause of the woman’s distress, probably having given her or someone she knew an unlucky reading. It wouldn’t be the first time someone freaked out at the sight of her, and Eve steadied herself with a deep breath as she prepared to explain that, no, she wasn’t cursed, she wouldn’t bring the woman bad luck, and if she had predicted something bad happening it was not her fault; it would have happened regardless of if Eve had told her or not.


@lilaine

[Deleted]

The blood fled Lilaine's face so quickly that it actually made her a little dizzy when the woman responded to the name. What. The. Actual. Hell?! Had she developed some strange clairvoyancy or precognition or was this all just one big, very strange, coincidence? Evening did not seem to recognize her or remember meeting her before. How could she? Had that even happened anywhere except in Lilaine's dreaming mind? "This is a little weird..." she almost mumbled. Maybe she had seen her somewhere and heard the name without really noticing but it had stuck in her subconscious.

"Do you ever..." she started, frowning, almost deciding to drop it and say this was all a mistake. She had to know, though. "Do you ever get deja vú?" As soon as she asked it, a thought occurred to her that would have made her laugh in less awkward circumstances. Dream Evening had told her that she did tarot readings and ran a metaphysical shop. Of course, she would be no stranger to things like deja vú. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come across so... abruptly?" Lilaine did laugh this time, but it was a wary, nervous sort of sound. "Don't take this in any sort of way... but I guess you kind of reminded me of someone from a dream I had." 

Just in case the dream had been more than a dream, however, Lilaine was not about to let Evening out of her sight until probably at least an hour after 11:13 AM. That had been the time of the accident in the dream. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was only 10:42 AM right now. She had the next thirty minutes to worry about and then another precautionary half hour just to make sure. So what if she was being silly? It was better to be silly and nothing happen than to have a bad feeling and ignore it only to regret it later. Grandmama was constantly telling her that she needed to trust herself more, to rely on her instincts. If something didn't feel right, then it probably wasn't. Grandmama was definitely right more times than she was wrong about these things. She had an almost uncanny ability to know exactly what each situation needed. If only Lilaine had thought to talk to her about it before she left the house. Though, what would she have said? "Hey Grandmama, I had a weird dream and it felt real and maybe someone will die today? But nevermind, I changed my shirt just in case so it's probably fine." How does one even respond to that?

Focusing her attention back on Evening, Lilaine tried to smile. "Again, I'm sorry. It sort of just feels like we've met before. I promise I'm not some weirdo. Though, I guess, that is what a weirdo would say," she laughed, her voice still shaky with the sound, "Can I buy you a cup of whatever you like and maybe we can laugh about this over a mid morning caffeine break? God only knows, I need more caffeine."

[Evening Cadieux]

The young woman turned impossibly pale as if faced by a ghost, her inner musings twisting in a direction that – despite being a source of confusion and fear for the redhead – made Eve grin and lean forward excitedly, especially when she was asked if she ever had déjà vu. Her concern for the other woman’s wellbeing was quickly forgotten, swept aside by the realisation that nothing was actually wrong with her. She was simply a witch. Another person like Eve and her father who had precognition, though was only discovering it at that moment. Eve had met many psychics in her lifetime (some more genuine than others) but none so far in Los Eurosia. The thought of gaining a new friend, an apprentice of sorts to pass her knowledge to, sent a small thrill up her spine.

She prepared to launch into an explanation of her dreams and use of tarot cards, half-reaching towards her bag for her phone so she could get her number. But something was wrong. Something that made Eve’s smile falter again as she collected snippets from the redhead’s mind. She’d seen someone die. And, from the sound of it, that person had very likely been… Eve.

Death was difficult to confront. Obviously she knew she would die someday – knew that (due to her gifts) she would probably see it coming. She hadn’t imagined she’d learn it from someone else. Nor did she think she would die so young. She’d imagined herself moving into a cottage in some woods and growing old there, becoming a ‘gnarled old hag’ like in fairytales, one that looked mean but was actually incredibly nice and helped the naïve yet brave heroines achieve their desires. Wrapping her arms around her stomach as if she could physically hold back the wave of nausea threatening to spill over, she glanced around at the various other people outside. They were happily going about their lives, completely oblivious to the death sentence that had been given to her mere metres away. She shivered despite the sun’s warmth. She felt like she should speak, question her sentencer and try to talk out the situation, but she could only stand there, lips parted with nothing to say.

The redhead spoke instead, her apologies and self-deprecating remarks accompanied with a stilted laugh and an offer of caffeine. Eve nodded absently, eyes unfocused as she struggled to understand her words. “Alright… Hibiscus tea, please.” She slowly turned towards the café entrance and walked forward on quivering legs, dread deepening with each careful step. It was a small mercy that Eve couldn’t see the images in someone’s head. The visual would be too much – would convert the burn in her eyes to full-on tears. Still, there was that dreadful curiosity. A part of her that wanted to know. How would it happen? How would people react? Eve’s visions were always set in stone, was it the same for this girl? How unfortunate it was that she’d finally found another witch in her new home, only to be snatched away from life before any bond could be built. She moved faster, as if to outpace the truth. The air conditioning inside the café made her shudder. She ought to call Sunny, then her parents, and tell them all she loved them.

In the queue, Eve shook herself. What the hell was she thinking? She reached out to take hold of the young woman’s wrists, gentle but impossible to ignore. “No, no, no, hang on, I can’t just – what dream?” Her brows sloped together, her stare flickering between the other woman’s eyes searchingly. She’d been too quick to accept it. Too blinded by fear that for a moment she’d forgotten how strangely malicious other people could be. There was a chance the stranger was messing with her, perhaps having heard of Eve beforehand and deciding it would be fun to give the psychic a scare, even controlling her thoughts to match her story. Some people became very good at that once they knew what Eve could do; Eve’s own father, for example, could replace his genuine thoughts with whatever musings he pleased.

She took a breath, releasing her hold. Another possibility was that the woman wasn't trying to trick her, that she genuinely had seen someone die and that person had looked like Eve. She didn't know it was Eve for certain; it hadn't been solidly confirmed to her, neither by thought nor spoken word. There was still a chance this stranger had been mistaken. “I’m sorry. I have dreams too. I mean, I have dreams of people I haven’t met yet and then I meet them a little while later – are you saying that happened to you? That you saw me?” She glanced around, mindful of other patrons who might be listening, then leant forward with her voice lowered to a strained whisper. “That you saw me die?”

She swallowed, licking her lips as she continued to struggle with composing herself. “What’s your name? Has this happened before?”


@lilaine

[Deleted]

It seemed that Lilaine had, indeed, made the other woman uncomfortable with her unsuccessful attempt to cover her awkwardness at the situation. Evening had gone a bit stiff and a little distant. Hopefully, if she was as polite and attentive as the dream Evening, she would be polite enough to not just immediately ditch Lilaine. At least, for the next half an hour or so, anyway. Still, she agreed to let Lilaine buy her a hibiscus tea, which was already different from the events of before. This time, they had not gently argued about who would buy what for who before ending up going stag. That was good. Change more things and maybe the outcome could be changed.

Evening was walking a bit too quickly for Lilaine not to notice. The gentle click of high heel on concrete gave Lilaine the impression that Evening was running away. Probably away from her, but she was not going so fast that Lilaine could not keep pace with her. Not really knowing what to say to make this better, Lilaine pretended to read the menu as they stood in the queue, waiting for their turn to order. She had been doing a decent enough job of pretending to be absorbed that she actually jumped a little when Evening grabbed her wrists. Lilaine's eyes went wide as she looked down at them. When Evening spoke, they moved up to her face, almost as if they were in a daze.

"I-I..." she started, not sure what to say. How was she supposed to respond to that? I had a dream that I already lived this day and that I met you and then immediately watched you die. When I woke up, none of it had happened yet. It just sounded so crazy. It felt so crazy, too. "It was just... a dream..." When Evening let her go, she released the breath she had not realized she had been holding. Eyes still wide, she just stared at the woman until she spoke again. She was shocked by the words that came out of her mouth. This had happened to her before? Maybe that was why this was happening to Lilaine this way? Had she somehow activated some latent psychic ability in her or had the universe just shown her Evening in a way that would make her seek her out?

Suddenly, it occurred to Lilaine that this was not the best place to have this conversation, surrounded by all these people. It was her turn to grab Evening, this time, taking her gently by the arm and leading her back out of the cafè. Looking about, she located a table that was somewhat secluded and lead Evening to it. She sat down quickly, mostly because her legs were shaking and her stomach was queasy. Gesturing, she indicated the chair across the table for Evening.

"My name's Lily," she said, remembering from the dream that there might be further discussion of her name if she said it the way she normally introduced herself. "And no... This has never happened to me before. Could it be... I don't know... somehow related to you? Since you have dreams, too?" Frowning, Lilaine absently chewed on one of her fingernails while she thought about the whole situation. "How does it work? I thought the universe was playing some sort of cosmic prank on me. I mean, I've had déjà vu before, but never anything like this. The dream felt so real, like I was actually living it." Lilaine knew that she had not answered Evening's other questions, but she had no idea what to say. Frankly, she was uncomfortable talking about it. The whole situation filled her with ice and dread.

[Evening Cadieux]

Her thoughts confirmed it: she had seen Evening die. Even as the redhead tried to dismiss it as a simple dream again, Eve knew it had been a vision. She could only hope it was a malleable one. One that (unlike hers) didn’t have to come true.

In the meantime she would try her best to stay calm – and not just for her sake. Her acquaintance was wide-eyed and her sentences were shaky and trailing; she was visibly unnerved even without the whirlpool of her thoughts to spell it out for her. Eve tried to make herself less intense, dragging her stare away from where it had been fixed on Lily’s. It was easy to forget how young the other woman was, wholly unprepared for such visions in contrast to Eve who had known them her entire life. She took a deep breath, held it in her chest for a second before exhaling slowly. It was no use. Her heart continued its nervous flutter and dread remained where it had settled heavily in her stomach.

The other woman’s touch on her arm was gentle, leading Eve out of the café and over to a fairly private table. There was no protest or attempt to pull away from her; she didn't want a drink anyway and she would only spill it when her shaking fingers failed to keep it steady on the way to her mouth. She took the seat indicated for her and folded her hands in her lap, as if sitting primly would somehow force her to be tranquil. Despite her grim mood, she managed a brief smile in response to Lily's introduction. She almost introduced herself until she remembered it was Lily’s utterance of her name that drew her attention in the first place.

Lily questioned whether the onset of her abilities was related to Eve somehow. It did seem to be a rather large coincidence that she had been the one Lily had seen in her vision. Another witch. A precognitive one. Perhaps she truly was supposed to act as some sort of guide or mentor to Lily, though it would be a little difficult when she didn’t have the answers to her questions.

“I’m not sure,” Eve murmured. Her brows drew together and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth again, absently recognising it would be torn to shreds by the end of the day if she didn’t stop. “I’ve never considered that these abilities could be triggered in other people. I’ve had mine my whole life and assumed I was born with them but… I suppose it’s feasible. My dad is like us – it’s possible he triggered it in me? And I was so young we didn’t realise that’s how it works?” Evening had been having strange dreams for as long as she could remember and she’d been able to read minds before that, if her parents’ tales of her toddling years were to be believed.

She cocked her head, her gaze searching Lily’s. “Do you feel different in any other way?” She leaned toward her, one of her hands lifting up to rest on the table. Eve’s father could only glimpse into the future, but Eve herself (and a few other witches she’d met) had an additional ability. Maybe Lily would develop another one now her precognition had manifested – or maybe she already had a gift before this whole situation. “Can you hear thoughts? Sense emotions? Auras?”  She was sorely tempted to drag Lily to her store, test if any items spoke to her in such a way that Eve's tarot cards spoke to her. 

The question of how their abilities worked was somehow as difficult to respond to as the first. While she knew how her own powers worked, that didn’t mean her findings could be applied to Lily’s. She’d met fellow witches whose readings were often wrong, or whose dreams never came to be in the waking world at all. “I suppose it’s different for everyone,” she began. “You say you saw the whole day as if you were living it as usual, whereas my dreams tend to be more… abstract, and can show events that’ll happen weeks from now. I can see people I’ve never met before but they tend not to talk to me, whereas I imagine you must have spoken to others in your dream if you thought it was real.”


@lilaine