Sophie is jostled briefly and finds herself being swept away by the crowd along with her question.

Albert sees nothing when he tries to look through the crowd after being abandoned by his dance partner. He shrugs and continues to dance as the new song comes on, looking into his empty glass if it’s betrayed him. Sunday glasses are often betraying. Very holy. That is, they’re full of holes. They often find themselves empty. Disappointing, empty things. He makes his way to the bar, but he doesn’t seem so impatient as to try and shove through the crowd. The Fairchild relies on his appearance in order to be noticed by a bartender. His appearance and those mirrored shades.

Malin reaches to squeeze at Matthew’s hand as Charlotte seems to be trying to figure out where the screaming is coming from. Her own eyes are looking out for the man in a neon-green suit with rhinestones on rhinestones.

Her search for the green-suited man is interrupted by that scream, as are many other activities around her. Teagan/i>/span/iTeagan is a sweeping ghost in white as she tries to track down the source of the scream to find out what happened!

Matthew cuts a path towards the bar with Malin and Charlotte in tow, the three of them strung together like a runaway train. His hand’s locked on Malin’s, who’s got Charlotte roped in, so they’re a whole procession of trouble headed straight for the booze. He hits the bar like a princ at court (or at least somebody who thinks he is), flashing that easy Montrose grin at the bartender as he starts, “Whiskey neat.” Problem is, nobody’s looking at him, and it takes him way too long to clock that he made an order to thin air. He’d probabyl still be standing there, smile glued on, if a scream didn’t cut through the noise. Instincts kick in, role call: eyes dart to Malin first, then Charlotte, then finally across into the crowd of the party hunting for Arachne and August. Priorities

Nemi almost yelps as walls form in-front of her made out of people and she’s cut short from her goals as she sighs softly. Turning and looking about she’s left lost and just more confused, she quickly starts to meld back into the ground with not much more to happen as she sighs softly, trying to just keep an eye out now.

Madison tilts her head at August, glittering eyes narrowing just enough to show she’s clocking the lie but too practiced to call him on it. Her laugh bursts light and airy, the kind that could pass for a cough if it weren’t dipped in champagne. She reaches out to attempt to snatch the Pierce’s face and bring it in for an airy kiss toward his cheek as lights flash around them. “Oh, babe, everyone says they want to paint me,” she drawls, pressing her shoulder into his as if daring him to keep up. “But you? You’ve got that whole tortured-artist-hot-mess vibe. Kinda obsessed already. You should paint me like, you know, Titanic. I want that -exact- scene.”

The scream barely reaches her ears over the music and people chatting around her, but she glances distractedly toward the commotion with a flicker of half-annoyance. Flashbulbs keep popping, but she leans right back into August as if chaos is background noise at her parties. “Ugh, people are -so- dramatic.” she mutters, rolling her eyes, then tips him a dazzling grin. “Anyway – where were we? Oh right, you wanting to immortalize me. Cute.”

It‘s hard to discern anything in the chaos of the crowd. Hands snatch Nemi in an attempt to lure her into doing a line of sparkling pink powder off an OnlyFans model’s trussed up cleavage with a thirty-something dude already graying at his temples.

Sophie is turned around entirely and finds herself being pushed into a distant corner of the room, while the screams seem to have come from a crowd of influencers slipping and tripping as they throw champagne-filled water balloons at each other.

Amber/span>/spanWhile everyone is busy with one thing or another, particularly tending to screaming folk, August is in the heat of the matter. The heat, being, Madison. His smile is sharper, that smirk a little edged with the display of cuspids so close to her when she leans in, but he makes an effort to avoid any more intimacy by occupying his mouth with the flute of champagne in his hand. It’s tipped back, completely, to empty it – and his hand extends to hold it out for a waiter to take without looking or calling anyone to attention. Naturally someone takes it from him, whether it be one of Madison’s orbits or an actual waiter.

Of course he falls into perfect French, with the complete inflection of a sultry, deep tone that’s spent against Madison’s ear when she dares him to paint like one of his french girls. “Anyone who’s ever tried to paint you had none of my skill, nor my eyes to capture the beauty rightfully.” whether she understands or not, he continues, and motion fills the gaps of a language barrier in how he sets his hand along Madison’s waist, then slides his arm further to wrap it above her waist, “A bedroom, now or never?” Like the whole crowd, the screams, nor the onlyfans models with their powder-glazed cleavages exists.

August meant ‘like the whole crowd doesn’t exist’, you get the idea.

Nemi grunts and sighs softly, wincing as she looks about and takes a soft breath in. Avoiding the drugs as best as she can while getting halted, progress is too slow and much too limited in its current state for her now. Her body nothing but a painted canvas for others to witness, metaphorically. And now the crowd wanted her, making herself too known. She calms down, slows down, and starts to try to blend in a bit more while searching about.

Albert turns away from the bar, drinkless by choice. His gaze scans the crowd, slowly intaking the participants and the Echoes that fill the mirrors around the room. His smile is incredibly unkind. He must be thinking something terrible. He weaves himself through the crowd like a camel might thread the eye of a needle, but with a little more rhythm. Fairchildren and their dancing ways.

“Pardon me,” he says to Madison as he passes August and the other woman, moving close enough that she can smell the o-zone and gunpowder that pour off him like he’s just ridden the passenger chair of a lightning strike whose poise gifted it the tool of a revolver. He moves slowly, shoulders swaying with the rhythm of whatever song happens to still be pounding over the crowd, gifting them the ritualistic movement that powerfully moves all of the folk filling this particularly dangerous party. He’s in pursuit of something.

Matthew’s attention span is woefully short, it actually only gets as far as getting eyes on Malin and Charlotte before his eyes (and probably thoughts) take him right back to the bar, expecting to find his drink. It’s not there.

Matthew drifts towards Malin, “I think somehow she told the bartender to only take orders from women,” he says, shooting the bar a dirty look.

Anyone who has witnessed Malin on booze and drugs knows that Malin should not have booze or drugs, and she’s handing over her alcoholic beverage to Matthew who is being ignored by the mixologist.

A slight turn on a (thankfully chunky) heel and Teagan almost passes the balloon group before she doubles back, trying to slip in among the fringes, acting like she’s just there as part of the play. That’s easy to do, too. You blend in, you smile along, you don’t speak up. It’s easy to just look like one of the crowd! And that’s her job, right? But while she does (and hopefully avoids getting hit with a champagne water balloon! so sticky!), Teagan does look from face to face, person to person, even at the ground: trying to spot the source of the scream. Or anything else that feels… off.

How Matthew just smile at Malin when she supplies him with that gin, he adores her. His hand goes back to her back, a fixture ever present at her side now as she asks, “Right, so what are we doing? Wanna go dance?” He drinks casually, scanning the crowd.

Charlotte looks vaguely unsettled, her eyes tracking something in the room even as she tries to flag down a waiter and get her ass a drink. “Something is…something’s off, here.” Booze, luckily, distracts her, and she leans over the bar, calling “Yoo-hoo! Excuse me, darling!” to the bartender.

Madison giggles through August’s French, nodding along as if she understands every silken word when, in truth, she hasnt the faintest clue. “Babe, that accent? Deadly,” she purrs, tilting closer, all gloss and perfume. The moment hangs until Albert brushes past, her shoulder jolted by the brush of his storm-charged presence. She gasps, stumbling just enough that the diamond-crusted necklace at her throat snags against August’s hematite ring with a faint metallic click. The chain tugging taut between them, like fate itself just looped them together. “Oh, shiiit! I’m so sorry. Let me get this untangled…”

Nemi drifts around the outside of the bar as she sighs softly, looking, staring inspecting peoples outfits and dresses and suits for any hint or flash of neon green she can latch onto and hunt like a shark waiting for that single glint or glimmer of fish blood or movement to chase after. All she had to do was wait and observe carefully while walking about and avoiding the drugs and mirrors.

“Watch where you’re going.” Albert says to Madison, before he turns to fix August with a look that lasts only a second. He mouths something. Then he’s moving through the crowd again, broad shoulders affording him the presence necessary to sway through the crowd with a rhythm-charged movement that seems to be taking him… who knows where?

Maybe he does. Given the erratic way he seems to be moving, maybe he fucking doesn’t. First he’s moving towards the content creators and their cocaine lined titties. Then he’s heading towards the bathrooms. Eventually, it’s the mirrors that find his attention, and they’ve claimed him entirely.

Of course, the mirrors he wears will also claim the mirrors’ attention, an infinity reflection doubled back on itself. Trouble incarnate.

Nemi quickly pulls her phone out as she starts texting the groupchat, hanging her head low a bit to avoid being spotted spying on someone. After she sends it off she starts weaving her way towards the powder room. God so much in the crowd she might normally just lean into if this would’nt possibly lead to a very bad fate for her if she got replaced as well. Another day to enjoy carnal pleasures maybe. Life is metaphorically and possibly forever endless in more forms than one, maybe another day or life. Non the less, she starts making her move carefully for the powdered room.

A chime rolls through the party like a digital wave, one ping after another until the music is drowned out by the sound of phones lighting up. Guests frown, scrolling in unison, the glow of dozens of screens washing faces pale. Every single message is the same; short, uncanny, no sender ID.

Madison, babe… Do you miss your bestie forever? I miss you.

The catch of her necklace into his ring makes August/span>/spanCharlotte glances at her phone, eyebrows going up as she gets a text message. Turning to Matthew and Malin, the brunette rolls her eyes and comments “Wrong number. Who in this crowd would mistake ME for that low-tier influencer?” Luckily, she’s not drunk enough to really have her voice carry, though her tone has less verve and venom than usual and she’s looking a little distant.

Amber glances down at her phone, then up at the figure she spots in the crowd. She was already heading for somewhere quiet, and this is somewhere quiet. She keeps heading that way, through the crowd.

Madison freezes as his fingers brush the chain, her lips parting in a tiny, breathy laugh meant to cover how rattled she suddenly feels. “God, you’re so smooth,” she says, half teasing, half distracted, tilting her chin up without resistance as if offering him her throat. The clasp gives way under his touch, and she lets him slip the necklace free, one hand fluttering uselessly in the air before dropping back to her side.

As the shard leaves her neck, Madison’s phone lights up with the same message flooding the crowd.

“Madison… do you miss me?” from Sloane Everleigh. Her composure cracks, her smile strained, clutching her phone with trembling hands, eyes darting wildly as she stammers. “Whoever the fuck is doing that… this.. whatever.. It’s not funny! Who does this shit on my birthday?!”

Malin is having an exchange of looks with Matthew, back and forth, but as Charlotte is speaking, she blinks softly and comes back into reality. “They are probably high of something,” she says to Charlotte in an attempt to be reassuring.

Phones lift like candles at a vigil, the crowd bathed in the cold glow of identical texts as whispers spike into panicked chatter. Some guests look horrified, others snap photos like it‘s a stunt, while one overdressed influencer sobs loudly enough to cut through the bass.

Glitterati group text from Arachne/span>/spanAlbert continues to stare into the mirror now that he’s performed a piece of the puzzle, gifting August and Madison some much-needed proximity. The mirror stares into his mirrored gaze, and his mirrored gaze stares back. What happens when an abyss stares into an abyss? The world may never know.

Malin has something bothering her — that much is clear. She keeps checking on Matthew, ensuring he’s safe and sound, next to her, and then she’s looking at Charlotte. “Hey,” comes out gently. “Are you doing all right? Someone’s got to have some uppers… I mean, I might even have some…”

Matthew stands with Malin, a hand on her hips, the other holding his drink. They’re exchanging looks until Charlotte says something, catching his attention. He doesn’t say anything, simply studying the other before he reaches towards her, inviting her in. “Harker, get over here,” he shouts her name fondly–whoops, was this supposed to be cover–beckoning her over. His phone’s been buzzing but he’s never once stopped to look at it, just at one, vibing with the party. Whether Charlotte comes or not, he slips to stand behind Malin, choosing to dance with the music.

Nemi starts heading for the room with Amber in the lead ahead of her. She needs to get towards the neon green suited man with her so, incase they do stop him outside of it, they are not left all alone as she sighs softly, needing to really play catchup.

“I’m fine!” Charlotte replies a little too quickly, though her usually upright posture is a little slumped, and the smile she directs at Malin is much more false than the ones she’s been giving till now. “Coming, Chien!” she calls to Matthew with a ghost of her usual verve, moving to join the two. “If you do have uppers, I’d happily accept one. Just, you know, keep the party going.”

“Hey, hey,” August stops Madison dead in her tracks. Her eyes aren’t allowed to wander while August’s palm curls around the mirror shard tangled to his ring, and his other hand is at her chin. Index and thumb claims her face to lift it up and align their eyes, where he speaks quietly near enoguh to kiss, and keep his words low. “Don’t get tangled up with pranksters, it’s your birthday. You should let loose, have some fun.” And that really leaves the next part of the plan; the reverse ritual to turn this sucker around.

“Let me introduce you to some of my friends, I’m sure you’ll recognize some of them.” Then that hand at her chin transitions to a dip to Madison’s fingers to hold them, and begin dragging her awaay from the crowd. Straight at Sophie, in fact, where he introduces the two, “Sophie, Madison, Madison, Sophie; allow me a moment to untangle her necklace – meet you guys at the bar with Matthew and Malin?” And he pauses to smile anew, that short, knowing thing over at Madison, “And yes, that Matthew Montrose and Malin Havstrom.” Meanwhile, Sophie gets a ping from August’s phone. A data package, sent discreetly, because of course the Pierce keeps tabs on everything with that hand that has left Madison and dipped into his pocket to work the work.

Sophie slides her phone free, thumb brushing the edge like she is checking a text. The ping from August blooms across her screen, a backdoor disguised as a party invite, and she slips through it quick. Her eyes flick toward the mirrored walls, but her focus narrows to the flood of connections tangled in the room. One by one she starts peeling them open, catching glimpses of messages, photo uploads, group texts firing live.

Once Charlotte is roped in with Matthew and Malin, the Montrose gets to talking. “Okay, so I’m not like…” there’s an air of gossip in his tone, “a hudnred percent sure, but Madison just turned twenty-two, and her friend went missing.” He pauses, scrutinizing the detail before he just handwaves it away as not important. “Anyway, so in my podcast discord folks were talkinga bout this and I guess there’re rumors that she got rid of her friend?” He doesn’t sound entirely sure or that he buys it, carrying on, “And I guess Madison’s been radio silent, not posting as much as she used to, and when she does there’s just this shift about her, like she’s dodging something. Bein’ totally shifty. Pretty sure she didn’t want to have this party at all and that’s why the bartenders suck.”

Malin reaches into her purse after questioning Charlotte. She’s looking for drugs, but… what she pulls out of that bag is a little blue pill. That can’t be the right one. “I have…” Next, she’s pulling a face. “No, no, you don’t want this one…” Well, she tried. And failed, but she tried. The medication is slipped right back into that handbag.

Malin is easing into slow hip movements to the music as Matthew is updating her and Charlotte with a recap. “That makes total sense,” she replies to Matthew, but as August is leading of Madison over to them, she’s greeting them with a wide, showy smile paired with a girlish laugh. “Happy Birthday, Madison. What a fabulous party.”

The hacking group‘s efforts trace the signal back to the townhouse itself, piggybacked through the Wi–Fi, rerouted and masked so every guest got the same ping at once. Worse, the source isn‘t random spam; it‘s coming straight from Sloane Everleigh‘s old phone, somehow active and broadcasting from inside the house.

Teagan has started to sidle clear of the water balloon (champagne balloon) group, acting just gosh, SO absorbed with her phone and that message! Just like everyone else. It makes it a bit easier, actually, for her to work on the tracking. A few of her specialty apps sent out, a few standby ones, hooking onto people who leave their Air Drop (so, so many people!) sitting wide open. Once she has the details, they’re shared out. And then she’s working on the next step: trying to isolate the ‘dead girl’s phone and where it might be at current time.

At Madison’s approach Matthew/span>/spanAlbert doesn’t look at his phone as the barrage of messages swing through it. He does find himself far too close to the bathroom, suddenly, in his mirrored perusal of mirrors that aren’t. Old men tend not to spend too much time looking at their phones, whatever Arachne would say about him. He stands, aloof and quiet. In a silent reveried repose, resplendently in recognition of real reminiscence, realizing perhaps his roaring headache, a rare and ritualistic river of rage’s ringing rivulets.

[OOC: I‘ve temporarily joined the bathroom for a side scene. Please use announces for things that need a reaction from me for the next fwe rounds.]

“Hey, hey,” August/span>/spanAugust’s palm curls around the mirror shard tangled to his ring, and his other hand is at her chin. Index and thumb claims her face to lift it up and align their eyes, where he speaks quietly near enoguh to kiss, and keep his words low. “Don’t get tangled up with pranksters, it’s your birthday. You should let loose, have some fun.” And that really leaves the next part of the plan; the reverse ritual to turn this sucker around.

“Let me introduce you to some of my friends, I’m sure you’ll recognize some of them.” Then that hand at her chin transitions to a dip to Madison’s fingers to hold them, and begin dragging her awaay from the crowd. Straight at Sophie, in fact, where he introduces the two, “Sophie, Madison, Madison, Sophie; allow me a moment to untangle her necklace – meet you guys at the bar with Matthew and Malin?” And he pauses to smile anew, that short, knowing thing over at Madison, “And yes, that Matthew Montrose and Malin Havstrom.” Meanwhile, Sophie gets a ping from August’s phone. A data package, sent discreetly, because of course the Pierce keeps tabs on everything with that hand that has left Madison and dipped into his pocket to work the work. (REPOST)

Teagan has started to sidle clear of the water balloon (champagne balloon) group, acting just gosh, SO absorbed with her phone and that message! Just like everyone else. It makes it a bit easier, actually, for her to work on the tracking. A few of her specialty apps sent out, a few standby ones, hooking onto people who leave their Air Drop (so, so many people!) sitting wide open. Once she has the details, they’re shared out. And then she’s working on the next step: trying to isolate the ‘dead girl’s phone and where it might be at current time. Wandering as she does so, because you don’t want to just stand still at a time like this and garner too much attention.

Apparently, August only left Madison with Malin and Matthew – because Sophie left for the batroom.

Nemi stares at the mirror, oh god the fucking double- the claws dragging at the poor womans body to get her into the mirror. She looks over to Amber, silently cursing as she nods firmly. “Let’s shatter some glass shall we?” She states with a smile and a grin, She was glad she packed something in particular as she reaches under her dress, silently unclipping something as she pulls out two armored gauntlets. Ready to throw hands and save a life as she moves for the mirror!

Amber, for one, is in no state for violence. She glances to Nemi, then opens her clutch purse and rummages around in it a moment. She bites the corner of her lip as she withdraws a… little doll. Then kisses it and chucks it at the green-suited man’s head as a distraction while Nemi does the real work.

She’s dancing with her friends, laughing with all the energy of a WASP-y ass bitch who learned to fake it from a young age, and then the influencer wanders by…and is introduced to all but her, in the group. August gets a bitch-ass side eye as Charlotte holds a hand out to Madison, stepping forward to give the woman a friendly smile and a “I’m Charlotte Harker, darling. Charmed, I’m sure…I love your outfit.”

Sophie pulls her knife and shakes her head, “Fuck this..” She pulls up alongside Amber and Nemi, “Count me in for whatever you got planned.”

As Charlotte introduces herself to someone, Malin is standing there with Matthew, all smiles, as fake as her show may be. She’s been doing this sort of thing for nearly eighty years, and has all of that bullshitting down, waiting to see if Charlotte can win other the birthday girl.

As Charlotte introduces herself to Madison, Malin is standing there with Matthew, all smiles, as fake as her show may be. She’s been doing this sort of thing for nearly eighty years, and has all of that bullshitting down, waiting to see if Charlotte can win other the birthday girl.

Albert casts his eyes around the party. The man is looking for someone to hurt. He looks across the hedonistic partygoers. Drunkards and druggies. Socialites too focused on their social media to even know what hurting means. He looks at newcomers and the distantly dazed folk who spent their wad already. He looks over people who’ve just fucked in the bathroom, and people too scared to talk to the person desperately seeking their attention. He looks at the bartenders and at the people who can’t even bring themselves to make eye contact long enough to catch those bartenders’ attention. He looks at people coming down the slide. he looks at people going into the bathroom. He looks. And he looks. And he looks.

Madison’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, a flash of diamonds and disdain as she takes someone hand with a limp squeeze. “Uh-huh, thanks, babe… love that you wore Forever 21 to my birthday,” she purrs, voice dripping with champagne and venom. She gives Charlotte the once-over, already dismissing her, before she glances back to August with a tight little laugh that sounds more like a warning. “I’m sure your friends are all fine and cute, but I need AIR. Like, fuck! Can I get a drink please?” Her voice cracks, tears spilling in her eyes as she attempts to push past the crowd, hyperventilating as something catches her eye in the thick of the crowd.

No one but the Glitterati seem to notice her distress, the party raging on.

Madison’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, a flash of diamonds and disdain as she takes Charlotte’s hand with a limp squeeze. “Uh-huh, thanks, babe… love that you wore Forever 21 to my birthday,” she purrs, voice dripping with champagne and venom. She gives Charlotte the once-over, already dismissing her, before she glances back to August with a tight little laugh that sounds more like a warning. “I’m sure your friends are all fine and cute, but I need AIR. Like, fuck! Can I get a drink please?” Her voice cracks, tears spilling in her eyes as she attempts to push past the crowd, hyperventilating as something catches her eye in the thick of the crowd.

No one but the Glitterati seem to notice her distress, the party raging on.

Nemi cackles softly, not going to be heard by anyone not good at hearing outside the bathroom. But when the glass shatters she knows she’s onto something at least- That is until she notices her reflection moving, grinning with a wide smile as she can FINALLY let loose on something, quite literally and metaphorically, her own speed.

“I’ll get you your drink, and you and I can get some air,” August spares from over Madison’s shoulder, speaking into her ear directly with the curve of his smile pressed tightly. After a squeeze of her side, he leaves, promptly – and as soon as he turns his back, the man looks like he’s violently ill. Paler than usual at the fake display of affection as he unspools the necklace from his pocket, and untangles it promtply from his ring to palm it again on his way. Straight into the bathroom to follow the rest of the crew; because at this point, it doesn’t look like he gives a damn whether the party girl dies or lives, just fixated on the target, the necklace, the ritual – and it is with the certainty to do that that he walks straight through the doors into whatever mayhem lies beyond.

There isn’t a whole lot more Amber has to offer but a possessed doll clawing at the guy’s ankles, but she does have the foresight to avoid looking at her reflection. She has decades of practice. Not that it matters, as she finds herself dragged towards the mirror. She touches a fingertip to the blood at her lips, then she touches it to the pin on her gown before she makes a gesture to try to seal the mirror’s influence.

A faint commotion originates from the direction of the small bathroom where Nemi, Sophie, and Amber disappeared fifteen minutes ago. The door swings open because a party goer has to piss, and it reveals the three girls in the midst of fighting for their lives against themselves as they’re drawn inexorably toward the mirror inch by inch.

Charlotte has never been more offended in her life, and she turns to Matthew and Malin, pitching her voice to carry as she comments cheerfully “Yikes, it’s so embarrassing when someone can’t recognize designer clothing. Poor thing, she must have seen a knock-off when she was shopping.” She doesn’t look bothered at all – instead, she seems energized by bitchery.

While still trying to isolate ‘dead girl’s phone, Teagan has been keeping an eye on Madison. The tiara makes it easy, after all. Which means she spots her trying to bolt and make her run. She lets out a breath and goes back to her weaving through party-goers oblivious to their surroundings to try to make sure the woman that they want to, y’know, keep alive is kept in sight.

Sophie screams as she feels herself losing to the pull of the mirror, her blades and fists failing her. With wide eyes she looks at Nemi as she sees her friend struggling as well.

Albert casts his gaze around the room. Disdainful, he turns his head and spits on one of the mirrors and its shifting surface. Amusement covers his face as the distaste on a nearby partygoer’s face, but he turns and makes his way from the room. His piece of this is done, as far as he can tell, and he makes his way up and out of the den of debauchery, the home of hedonism, the sinful sanctum secreted away in the midst of the party. “Happy birthday, Al.” He says to himself, carefully sidestepping opportunities he finds to physically injure singles here and there, slipped away in alcoves. Drunk, or high, drunk and high, and everything in between. Good Albert.

Matthew looks at someone like she’s off her rocker. tilting his head just so to give someone a not-so-concealed look like that bitch crazy. He calls out to Charlotte, “I think she’s drunk,” he says of the girl who’s not been handed a drink all night, “It’s her birthday, she’ll misdesign if she wants to!” he sings it like that song and says, “Are we gonna dance or what?” He look saround, “cus otherwise, I’m gonna have to say this party blows.”

Matthew looks at Madison like she’s off her rocker. tilting his head just so to give someone a not-so-concealed look like that bitch crazy. He calls out to Charlotte, “I think she’s drunk,” he says of the girl who’s not been handed a drink all night, “It’s her birthday, she’ll misdesign if she wants to!” he sings it like that song and says, “Are we gonna dance or what?” He look saround, “cus otherwise, I’m gonna have to say this party blows.”

Matthew looks at Madison like she’s off her rocker. tilting his head just so to give Malin a not-so-concealed look like that bitch crazy. He calls out to Charlotte, “I think she’s drunk,” he says of the girl who’s not been handed a drink all night, “It’s her birthday, she’ll misdesign if she wants to!” he sings it like that song and says, “Are we gonna dance or what?” He look saround, “cus otherwise, I’m gonna have to say this party blows.”

Like most old women, Malin has generally lost her filter, but instead of ripping young Madison apartment, she’s exercising that well honed self control again instead for the sake of the mission. She nods in agreement with Charlotte. “I went to South Korea once and they had the very best knock-offs. In Central Asia, however, I saw Gugci… Bad knockoffs. Didn’t even try to spell it right,” she’s sharing. “Oh, she’s definitely drink,” the Swede agrees with Matthew, and then leans in and whispers to him as her hips begin to undulate and her shoulders start to roll, starting to dance while the others are trying to actually stop the Echoes.

As soon as August wanders in, it seems to be complete mayhem. People drawn in, and what not, August takes but one look, one long, long look like Donald Glover with a box of pizza in a room on fire. The only natural thing, naturally, is to draw the colt at his waist and take aim to let loose a volley of charged bullets that ring out until the clip is empty – but it draws from the inherent power that radiates from his ring, the one that thrums within sigillum dei to channel dark magic and splinter the mirror into dust where it cracks.

“Let’s go shopping while we’re here! I should see if my sister’s in town, she keeps a loft in Greenwich Village – says it makes her feel arty.” Charlotte enthuses to Malin, her good cheer returned to her as the Trouble Trio do not assist at all with solving any problems. She starts to move with the music, smiling at her friends as she tries some party rockin’ in the house tonight.

Nemi yelps, shit shit shit, her fist gets easily met first. God dammit she’s fighting herself of course they’d know how she’d fight. She did’nt think about this, she should have thought about doing what she would’nt do and think twice-

Matthew is actually here to dance, and now that Malin has gotten into her sultry moves he does what any dutiful boyfriend would–dances up on his woman. “Oh, you kno what, should we all just stay here for the weekend?” he’s asking like the world is their oyster–being of the elite class and all–they are here for the party, right? “I’m down to go shopping. I think there’s a show tomorrow night that’ll be good to see.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Malin replies to Charlotte, being as unhelpful as she can per usual, just moving her body to the rhythm of the music, near grinding up against Matthew as she gets into the groove. “Oh, I haven’t been to Greenwich Village in years, but I admittedly felt ‘arty’ the last time I was there.” As Matthew makes a suggestion, she nods to him, looking at Charlotte curiously to see what she thinks.

Nemi screams out, falling backwards as she pushes herself away from the mirrors. Hitting the ground quite hard as she leans up, looking towards Sloan fast to check on her, shit- SLOAN! If their still being dragged in she needs to save her! “Shit-!” She curses aloud.

Though she’s trying to keep an eye on Madison distantly, Teagan is honestly more focused on her programs. Because she’s got something. Sure, it’s a hacky sort of way to get the information she needs, but if it works- it works. And that’s what’s important. And this one is working. A silver ankle boot lifts… then lowers back to the ground as she turns and starts heading in a different direction. She’s not stopping yet, she’s focused. A changing of apps and she’s sending off a quick text before moving in a more focused fashion. Having something to set herself to does strip away a *lot* of the anxiety that tends to rest on her slim shoulders much of the time.

“What show? I love the theater!” Who allowed this useless trio to come along. Charlotte seems to feel the rest of the group has the issue well in hand….and she’s not exactly going to chase after some crying bitch who implied she buys her clothes on the cheap. “I can call Isabella, see if the loft is empty this weekend. Oh, or we can stay at the Carlyle. Grand-mere knows the owner, so I get the top suite for free.” Helps to be a rich chick, it seems.

Once the mirror is shattered, Amber waits a moment for things to settle. She carefully shuffles in on her (short) heels, awkwardly bending to scoop up her doll and check on the others, “You guys okay? Anything serious?”

From the main floor of the party, Lillian catches sight or sound of a rampaging haunted doll. Knowing exactly where that must come from, she inconspicuously makes her way over to the bathroom and slips inside, pretending as if she has to go wash up but really trying to check on things and make sure they’re not going to shit.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” August says, under the rain of mirror dust. The glimmer of smoke on the barrel of his gun is ignored while he tucks it back into his belt, under his coat, and he moves forward into the crowded, cramped pathroom full of blood by now. “I told you to stay away from mirrors and you’re all in here – literally in front of one.” His disapproval is short lived, because he’s reaching down to grab a fistful of blood to use as paint. It’s used to draw a circle on the far wall, because the floor is full, “Spider, I’m going to need assistance here, let’s get this done.” It’s spoken into the mass of bodyparts, of which he uses their blood to etch the sigilwork and warding upon the wall. The last piece is the necklace he unfurls out of his pocket, aligns up on the center to take the gun again. He’s using the butt of it to hammer the chain into the wall like a crudely tethered nail.

Madison bursts back through the crush of bodies, tiara slightly askew, champagne glass clutched like a lifeline as she latches onto someone arm with manic energy. “No, you don’t get it, babe. Sloane texted me, like, just now, like she’s still out there somewhere, and everyone thinks I’m losing it but I know what I saw,” she blurts, voice too loud, words tumbling over each other as she drags Charlotte toward Matthew and Malin. Her laugh is sharp and jittery, more hiccup than humor, as she waves her glass at the three of them. “God, I need another drink, because if this night gets any weirder I swear I’ll just… ugh, I’ll just DIE!”

Madison bursts back through the crush of bodies, tiara slightly askew, champagne glass clutched like a lifeline as she latches onto Charlotte’s arm with manic energy. “No, you don’t get it, babe. Sloane texted me, like, just now, like she’s still out there somewhere, and everyone thinks I’m losing it but I know what I saw,” she blurts, voice too loud, words tumbling over each other as she drags Charlotte toward Matthew and Malin. Her laugh is sharp and jittery, more hiccup than humor, as she waves her glass at the three of them. “God, I need another drink, because if this night gets any weirder I swear I’ll just… ugh, I’ll just DIE!”

Sophie lies sprawled on the tile, breath tearing in and out as pain lights up her arms and shoulders where the Echo carved her. She drags herself upright on shaking elbows, glass glittering in her hair, her skin slick with fresh blood. A hiss escapes her teeth, half a curse and half a laugh, as she presses a hand to the worst of the gashes. “Thank fuck for …regenerative healing..” she rasps, eyes burning as she shoves herself back to her feet. “How do we fucking end this?”

Charlotte was so busy dancing and talking about shopping shedidn’t even notice our intrepid influencer busting through the crowd, and when her arm is grabbed, she jumps a couple inches in the air. “I…what?” she asks, peering at the woman, and then she holds out her champagne flute, honestly looking delighted to be part of any drama going down. “Here, drink this, darling” she soothes with the energy, again, of someone who spent four years in a sorority. “It’ll calm you down. Are you sure it’s not someone fucking with you? You seem like a person who would attract that.” This might be the most diplomatic statement This Bitch has ever made.

Matthew is dancing behind Malin, a hand on her hips, the pair in conversation with Charlotte when Madison comes all white-girl-wasted their way. “Oh there’s–” he pionts towards the bar with his drink-wielding hand because there’s no way he’s sacrificing another cocktail to this train wreck of a birthday girl. His sage advice offered, he drinks, attention returning to Malin as he murmurs something into her ear.

“Okay, good. Not dead,” Amber offers after checking on the others, turning her attention now to what survived the mirror’s end.

Sophie stands to her feet, bloody and whimpering slightly as she gives August a little nod, “Tell me what you need.”

There is so much amusement across Malin’s face when Madison startles Charlotte, and her mesh-clad sides are shaking as she really tries not to busy up laughing. Then, Malin seems to get an idea since Madison is all nerves and whatnot. Once again, she’s reaching in to her bag of tricks, but it’s not for Viagra this time around. Thank goodness. No, no, she’s got a roofie of all things, and she’s glancing between Charlotte and Matthew to see if they think it is a good idea to drug the poor birthday girl up so that she can relax. As Matthew whispers, she nods to him, and says, “Absolutely we are.”

Madison all but collapses against Charlotte, tiara slipping sideways as she clutches the champagne flute with shaking fingers. “No, no, it’s not just a prank.. You don’t get it. SLoane texted me, like, from her phone, in this house,” she blurts, voice cracking somewhere between hysteria and drunken whine. Her laugh comes out too sharp, her gaze flitting wildly to Matthew and Malin as if daring them to call her crazy, before she drains half the glass in one go. “Like, she’s -dead. You don’t get it, I fucking like, saw… I saw her die at –” She stops talking, perhaps wisely, grabbing whatever drink she can to chug down. She darts off, heading down a hall.

Lillian’s eyes widen when she steps in just in time to see this. She doesn’t really know what all happened to get things to this point, and so she simply reacts on instinct. She runs forward and very intelligently attempts to just stomp on that sliding piece of mirror with her heel to try and stop it from moving towards Amber.

Nemi sighs softly, looking around she winces as she looks down towards the glass shards on the floor. Nodding firmly she can’t do much but defend herself by swatting the glass shards away if they get close.

“Good.” August tells Sophie, immediately, and casts a look across the woman, top to bottom then up again. “You’re in bad shape, so I’ll bear the burden, just assist. Invoke as you do for a banishment ritual, same as you would a spirit.” But even then, August steps back, tucks the gun into his belt, and kicks the slithering shard into oblivious disgracefully like he’s offended at all that the damned thing is putting up a resistance. “Let’s start.” And in his approach, August untucks a dagger from another side of his pocket to slice cleanly across his palm – smear the last few, more important runes upon the wall where the shard is affixed.

It groans with power as soon he starts to speak, with his hand held forward palm-open towards the sigil; and every rune made in blood catches aflame safe for his. Those seem like they drink it. Every lick of fire is gone within their gleam, absorbed towards the shard, but his words are in latin.

Matthew smiles ever so brightly when Malin says that and then he’s nodding, supporting roofying the birthday girl, and when Madison turns to leave, he tries to slip off and delay her long enough for Malin to do what she’s gotta do.

Malin successfully drugs Madison’s drink, and tosses the empty vial aside without a care in the world as to where it shall land.

“I mean, dead people…is she a wight?” Charlotte earnestly asks the Birthday Princess as she grabs the champagne, a subtle nod going to Malin. The drugging is successful, and she doesn’t chase the girl as she takes off, instead observing to Matthew and Malin “Do you think she killed her friend? Sometimes people feel guilty about that.”

“In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight!” The words, if any recognizes them, sound.. off. There’s definitely something unorthodox here in the way August is doing it, and a few things he says are bastardized. “No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might beware my power!” And his fingers curl into a whole fist, with his ring held to channel the gathering mass of fire and darkness that bleed into the latter to diminish and disappear, possibly with more shakes and quivers across the room at large. “Black Lantern’s Light!”

“She’s going to fucking jump! Madison’s going to jump!” A panicked voice shouts from further down the hall where Madison was last seen running off toward. A young, tear-streaked blonde goes pushing through the crowd, stopping by the open door of the bathroom, momentarily startled by the state of the group inside, before she turns and continues rushing toward Matthew, whom she recognizes. “Please, please, she’s going to jump!”

Teagan licks her lips, wishing briefly that maybe she had taken up that offer for a drink. Sure, she’d regret it likely right now, but also… it’s called liquid courage, right? She’s heard that somewhere before. The redhead takes a deep breath and dips into a corner to try to get as good a viewpoint as she can of the room at large. She’ll even step up onto a low table to get some added height. No one will care, right? She’s all of five-foot-four… well, a bit more maybe with those boots. But not much. Even on a table, many of the ladies are the same or taller than she. But a bit of height helps, even if it makes it harder to avoid looking at the mirrors. But her focus is mostly on her phone. Because she starts trying to send out a virus. One that will try to get every single phone that ISN’T the target… to point to the target. Except the phones belonging to the Glitterati, of course. Through screens lighting up, blinking lights. It’s a reverse ping, effectively. And if people rush to go see the girl being purported to jump? Maybe she’ll get an even better opening to spot who has the guilty, guilty phone.

Sophie staggers but squares her stance, blood dripping from the cuts lacing her arms. Her fingers tremble only once before she presses them together, smearing red across her palms, and raises them toward the wall. Breath catches in her chest, then steadies as she begins to invoke, her voice raw but strong, pulling the words of banishment into the broken air. Each syllable lands heavy, rhythm matched to the pounding of her heart, the pain grounding her. The gouges burn, but she leans into it, letting the wound become her offering as the ritual takes shape beside August’s runes.

Amber’s focus is on business. And on avoiding her own reflection as much as possible. If the mirror-shard is coming for her, so be it. She doesn’t notice it, or she assumes Lillian got it. Either way, she’s once more doing some will-working to help with the ritual August leads.

Nemi turns her head, and then looks towards the glass shards as she curses. She does’nt know who to choose or what to do, she can’t help both parties but she has to help one. “Shit- I’m gonna go try to get madison Down- Finish this-” She states as she nods, preparing to book it out of the bathroom to run down the hallway towards where the celebrity vanished.

Teagan licks her lips, wishing briefly that maybe she had taken up that offer for a drink. Sure, she’d regret it likely right now, but also… it’s called liquid courage, right? She’s heard that somewhere before. The redhead takes a deep breath and dips into a corner to try to get as good a viewpoint as she can of the room at large. She’ll even step up onto a low table to get some added height. No one will care, right? She’s all of five-foot-four… well, a bit more maybe with those boots. But not much. Even on a table, many of the ladies are the same or taller than she. But a bit of height helps, even if it makes it harder to avoid looking at the mirrors. But her focus is mostly on her phone. Because she starts trying to send out a virus. One that will try to get every single phone that ISN’T the target… to point to the target. Except the phones belonging to the Glitterati, of course. Through screens lighting up, blinking lights. It’s a reverse ping, effectively. And if people rush to go see the girl being purported to jump? Maybe she’ll get an even better opening to spot who has the guilty, guilty phone. Now with bonus added announce for extra flavor.

“I can’t imagine feeling guilty over killing anyone,” Malin says to Charlotte while she appears to be trying to imagine just that. A beat. “Nope. Definitely can’t.” She may be a little bit of a psychopath. “Oh, Madison is going to jump, do you hear that?” Voicing that question to Matthew and someone, she then says, “We could probably make a new dance for the TikTok peoples, and call it the Madison Jump, where you finish it with a fake faint, cuz she’s probably going to be really disoriented in tired here shortly, and she probably won’t be able to jump.” She notes, “She’ll just fall over the edge of whatever she intended to vault over.”

“I can’t imagine feeling guilty over killing anyone,” Malin says to Charlotte while she appears to be trying to imagine just that. A beat. “Nope. Definitely can’t.” She may be a little bit of a psychopath. “Oh, Madison is going to jump, do you hear that?” Voicing that question to Matthew and Charlotte, she then says, “We could probably make a new dance for the TikTok peoples, and call it the Madison Jump, where you finish it with a fake faint, cuz she’s probably going to be really disoriented in tired here shortly, and she probably won’t be able to jump.” She notes, “She’ll just fall over the edge of whatever she intended to vault over.”

Matthew is dancing with Malin, his head bowed in towards he neck, really just another party-goer when that blond comes darting his way. He’s not quick to respond, and doesn’t pull away easily from her. God how he loves to be dancing on her, his hands are reaching around her waste, lost in the moment but by the time the birthday girl’s friend is pleading, he’s beginning to peel away from Malin. “Totally should but…” he speculates with his girlfriend/publicist. “DO you think it’d amke me look really good if I managed to stop her?” He looks between her and Charlotte, “I Think… I think I should maybe do that and like, you guys get pictures and the team can post it.”

And with that Matthew begins to make his way down the hall, demeanor shifting entirely as he calls out, “Madison stop, I believe you, I know what to do, come here!” He sounsd so earnest, you’d think he was her favorite cousin or something.

There is no place Malin would rather be than dancing with Matthew, but saving the life of a socialite would help his career and her own, so the handler is nodding the male Montrose. Off he goes, and Malin is getting her phone’s camera ready, moving in after him and beckoning Charlotte to follow.

Charlotte nods at Malin and moves down the hall after her friends, walking quickly as Matthew attempts his save of someone’s life. Let’s be real, she’d rather be useless, but when shit gets real, she’ll sigh and move in to help.

Nemi does’nt even seem to be able to get past the doorway without encountering more the crowd immediately as she just turns around to walk towards the ritual taking place.

Tonight really isn’t Matthew’s night, nothing has gone his way, not that he can tell. His glass is half full and all that running and sprinting down the hall yields him little results. After a while he actually stops to take a drink, of all things, before continuing on.

[OOC: Big emote incoming. One second please so I can respond to all these.]

The bathroom becomes a furnace of will and word as August’s ring burns dark fire into the sigil, Sophie’s voice lashes raw incantations into the air, and Amber anchors the rite with cold precision. The necklace shard thrums like a struck bell, rattling out across the wall as power reverses in a violent surge. For one awful instant, every reflection in the house screams; dozens upon dozens of Echoes tearing loose from their hosts at once, a flood of shadows flung back into the cracks of broken glass. The ritual holds. The link collapses. The Echoes unravel into smoke and silence. All but one. One remains, amplified and sharpened, its tether lashed tight to Madison Van Lux.

On the first floor, chaos detonates. Doppelgangers burst out of mirrors mid-laugh, mid-dance, mid-drink, scattering shrieking guests and leaving a trail of overturned champagne flutes in their wake. Some influencers sprint for the exits, mascara running, while others, blissfully wasted, keep swaying to the music insisting its all performance art. The crowd heaves like a tide; in the crush of sequins and shoulders, Matthew and Nemi are swept up and spun around, swallowed whole by the press of bodies as they fight to push toward Madison before she disappears from sight.

It was a crazy idea. It’s not the best way to do it, but it’s also not an easy thing to just ping a single phone when you’re a single girl trying to look for it in a crowd of people that are… well, all over the fucking place. Teagan tries the hack to ping all but the target phone and… it doesn’t work. There’s just too much noise and she didn’t have enough time. She shoots off a text instead, but does start angling in the direction of where the birthday girl had gone. It’s not like it’s hard to find now, it would seem. No longer nose in phone, she is keeping an eye out because maybe, maybe she’ll spot their Problem. And that might be all that keeps her from being crushed in the swell of panic, of bodies, of the mad rush. She does end up back to a wall, trying to become as small as possible: waiting for an ebb in the tide to start to make some sense of what. the. fuck. just happened. And whether it’s for the positive or negative for them.

Sophie staggers out of the bathroom, blood still slicking her arms, the echo of her own incantations ringing in her ears. The wall of noise on the first floor hits like a wave, bodies slamming together, glass crunching underfoot, doppelgangers bursting loose in jagged shards of laughter and screams. She is swept into it before she can choose, shoulders bumping, sequins scraping, hands grabbing as the crowd churns.She does not fight the pull, not yet, letting the tide drag her where it wants so long as her eyes stay locked on the tiara glinting above the chaos. Madison Van Lux, the one tether that has not snapped. Sophie shoves off a strangers arm, slips between two panicked guests, and rides the surge closer. Every step is a bruise, every jostle another flare of pain across her torn shoulders, but she pushes through, carried by the riot straight toward Madison.

Malin keeps pressing through the crowd, more concerned about Matthew than anything else, with Charlotte coming in second, and Madison she already drugged, so there isn’t all that much concern for that young woman. Happy Birthday, Madison!

All that said and done, August is left sodden with sweat. His hand runs up, bloodied, to stain his face, his hair, and everything else in the backward sweep of it to get it all out of his eyes, and with only a nod cast to both Sophie and Amber, August strides out with a weaker, stumbling gait, to follow the commotion. The ritual, whatever the effects, must’ve taken a toll, because the Pierce is pale, unfocused, and worse, he’s met with the barrage of bodies outside that has him stare in relative, muted disbelief at the unfolding scene with a lack of words to form. Even as Sophie gets dragged beside him and into the writhing mass of people.

Matthew l

Arachne has been held hostage by up-and-comers for the better part of the night. She storms out wiping her hands on silk, only to freeze at the eruption of chaos, looking at mirrors screaming. the crowd in a frenzy, and panic saturating the air. Her frustration snaps into cold focus the second the gunshots crack through the din, sharp enough to rattle the chandeliers. She moves against the surge of the crowd, stretching out a hand to snatch onto some part of August, Teagan, or Matthew, whoever she passes, before she’s inexorably pushed along toward a quieter section of the house.

The press of bodies swallows Matthew whole, the surge of the party grinding loud and chaotic around him. he pivots, head craning above the crowd trying to catch sight of Malin any trace of the Swede–before the crush turns from rowdy to dangerous. His height a gift in this instance, letting him scan the shifting tide for a way towards her.

“Eek!” Teagan did not expect to be grabbed and pulled along, her fluffy jacket an easy target for Arachne’s grasping hands. And really, truly, for the best even if the redhead is initially startled by it as she tries to just avoid the chaos swelling around them. Once she realizes who it is, however, she relaxes and just does her damndest to scurry along and keep close. August, once he’s dragged along in the Glitterati cluster, gets a strange look for all the, well, giggling.

As the group is inexorably pushed out onto the balcony, most of the chaos has stempeded for more sensible exits, leaving nly a few stragglers pressed against the walls in shock. Madison stands alone at the rail, tiara sliding, shoulders shaking with sobs that carry in the night air.

An Echo of her advances steadily, her saccharine sweet drawl faintly heard, insidious and cajoling, as she advances on the girl. Madison lifts her hands in a desperate shield to shield herself, the Echo poised to slam her palms into the birthday girl to send her teetering over the edge….

[OOC: Give a try to interfere if you’re going to.]

“Madison!” August calls out, long enough for Sophie or Matthew to do their thing, while he’s pushing, all giggles — because he’s very drunk, but his expression is strained and held back by force, even if he sways. “Don’t do it, you have so much to live for!” And after a beat, he adds, “Like me!”

Nemi quickly spots some potted plants- one shot- one try- she can stop the girl from falling or she might be able to slow the echo- But the Echo might reach her before anything- She has to stop it! Quickly her hands raise, a breath of focus, determination past the pain in her body!

Amber is just worn ragged at this point. Her repertoire exhausted, she has little recourse but to watch others try to save the rich girl.

As she watches the woman weeping on the balcony, Charlotte has an off expression of sympathy cross her face. Rarely seen, there si something within her that understands, and so she steps forward to try and assist.

Sophie lunges between Madison and her reflection, seizing the Echo’s wrists. Heat flares from her palms, fire curling up the shadow’s arms as she tries to shove she drives it back.

Lillian is making a futile effort to clean Amber of some blood from all of the bathroom mirror shit. She has probably forgot about their primary mission at this point.

Swept along by the crowd, Matthew somehow ends up with more elbow room than he deserves–and a front row seat to what might be a murder… or maybe a suicide? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care; his eyes flick instead to the glow of phone cameras. With a grin, he digs into his pocket, whips out a knife, and sends it spinning at the doppleganger–only for it to clatter harmless to the floor, skittering away like a bad joke that missed the punchline.

Malin has her phone held up high unhelpfully, simply taking video footage of everyone’s failures.

The balcony erupts into a tangle of desperate, failing attempts. Nemi’s summoned shrub bursts too far to the side, its leaves scraping uselessly against stone.

Teagan’s reel glitches, phone screen freezing on a warped, static-smeared smile of Sloane that only makes Madison shriek louder.

Matthews knife sings past the Echo’s head and clatters into the night, swallowed by Manhattan below.

Charlotte’s reach falters, her hand closing on empty air, while Sophie’s incantation sputters, sparks flickering and dying against the rail.

August’s drunken plea does catch Madison’s gaze for a fleeting second, but it only roots her in place just as the Echo slams into her, sending the birthday girl screaming backward, tiara catching the balcony light as she tips over the edge.

Well, this isn’t going to look good on TMZ.

Arachne/span>/span“Well, shit.” August rumbles under his breath, but over all, he doesn’t really seem all that bothered.

All Malin manages to do is get a face full of wind, but nothing powerful enough to prevent Madison’s fall.

Honestly, it’s a panic move. Unlike… well, just about everyone else in their wild little party: Teagan does not have much else to her name besides her phone. Like, physically and capability-wise. And Teagan does not know these people, so she tries frantically to find videos of Madison and Sloane. Ones of them having a good time. Happy. It’s a movie move, absolutely. The oh my gosh, remember that, or at least something to stun one or the other (heck, the Echo might even fall for it!), but she has to try. She finds one that looks good and tap, tap… “Fuck!” It’s not that she’s not a swear-y sort of girl, but she hasn’t been one *tonight*. She just is now, because her plan not only failed, it made it all worse. Worse and…. some people might be totally okay with that really, really terrible sound of flesh hitting pavement. Teagan however? Really, absolutely not one of those people. Even under the heavy makeup, she looks a little green and turns away to move towards one of the shrubberies or plants that must still be on the balcony to lose what little is in her stomach is into it.

Amber gives a bit of a flinch as the rich girl goes over the edge. She does make one last (probably?) futile gesture to try to maybe save her.

She huffs irritatedly as she misses Madison’s hand, and then her hair is blown back, tendrils flying everywhere as poor Malin’s wind just ruins any updo attempt. “Jumping is so rude – what if she ruins someone’s car??” Charlotte asks, sighing after she fails to rescue the birthday girl from her own choices.

Nemi has her eyes widen, extremely wide as the birthday girl goes tumbling…. a sharp gasp as she forms a shrub for the first time ever but it misses- It just misses…. She failed.

Sophie screams as she fails and the socialite plunges down. Running to the rail she watches in horror as if it’s some slow motion scene from a movie. Like Hans Gruber has fallen but it’s not a happy Christmas moment.

August is still very drunk.

Madison plummets, a streak of sequins and sobs, but Amber’s desperate ward somehow catches like a net spun midair with a sudden gust of wind from Malin. It’s clumsy, imperfect, but August’s aid helps her twist her fall. Instead of shattering on the pavement, she ricochets hard against a balcony ledge, tiara snapping clean off before her limp body splashes into the brownstones courtyard pool with a bone-jarring smack.

The screams rise instantly from below, guests swarming like ants around the water’s edge, phones flashing as they scramble to drag her sputtering, half-conscious form out of the blue-lit water.

Matthew frowns, casting another quick glance to see if any cameras are catching hime before raising his voice, all tragic gravity. “Madison won’t be forgotten. I only wish I’d gotten to her sooner… really been there to help her out.” He projects the line like a man auditioning for sainthood or something, loud enough for every mic in the room to catch. Anyone paying attention to him throughout the night, who knows him even a little, can see it’s theater, but otherise? He’s selling it.

All the screams seem to make August really, realy happy. But hey, Madison is alive, and maybe August can still draw her like one of his french girls. Probably in a wheelchair, but the point still stands. He nods, much to himself. Arachne’s pistol is pulled out of his belt and held out for her to take, and after, August slides his hands in his pockets in his half-stupor, drunken haze that’s worsened by overextension of rituals and overstimulated magic. “She screams really good.”

Lillian cranes her neck after the splash to see what the hell happened. It’s kind of unclear to her, so she leans in towards Amber with furrowed brows. “Did your thing work?” she murmurs quietly to her.

Malin keeps filming, holding her phone up high and moving to get the footage of that fall on video.

Amber slumps a bit once the landing is heard, unpleasantly, letting out a quiet huff. To Lillian, “Slowed it down. Dunno if it’ll be enough or not. Wards aren’t typically that strong.”

Arachne grips the railing, gray eyes narrowing as the splash echoes from below. “Fantastic,” she murmurs, words sharp with venom, rubbing at her face delicately with a hand. “We just turned a suicide into a fucking viral clip,” She murmurs, pushing away from the railing. “Malin, stop filming!” she calls over to Malin, not even surprised, too tired and mind scrambling of next steps. “Come on. Everyone, out. We need to get back, -now-.”

Nemi curses. “Fuck- Fuck fuck fuck- Shit this is not good-” She states VERY clearly as she curses. Nodding to Arachne as she stands and looks back to the main dance area place…. thingy.

Sophie holds back her cringe, “Seriously not going to post that before her family knows. Right?”

Yup, that’s absolutely what was left in her stomach. And she didn’t even drink. Teagan just leans against a wall, wiping the back of a wrist across her mouth; unaware she’s smudged her lipstick in the process. Not terribly, at least, but definitely noticeably. The crunch of Madison hitting the wall was bad enough. The screams did not help. None of it really did. She clutches at her own phone for a moment before staring down at it and just quickly shutting down the reels, the- the everything. Well, no, not everything. All the data she collected, the information, the pings, the traces- those all go into a file to be saved for later. It feels… possibly important. She pushes away from the wall looking absolutely drained, moving to follow Arachne.

“I’m goig to clip that at least two hunred different ways,” Matthew can be heard saying when he arrives right over to Malin’s side. “This is going to definitely grow the follower count.” A contrast to his cousin Arachne’s stance.

Lillian grimaces. “Hmm… I won’t ask anymore questions,” she decides to Amber.

A quick glance is given to Arachne by Malin as she’s being called to, and there’s a moment of hesitation. She leans forward, to just that final shot, and then she utters out, “Forever twenty-two…” for Charlotte’s sake, after that earlier comment about the woman’s clothes. Then she stops the video that is uploading to her cloud, and she’s nodding to Matthew to head off after Arachne.

Nemi curses as she watches Arachne get swarmed as she attempts to make her own way around on the outside, deciding to try to use her party members as cover if anything.

Charlotte snickers at Malin’s observation, and then she nods to Matthew as they all try to escape without notice. “You’re right. It’ll go SO viral.” Sophie’s empathy is not mirrored in any of these Fae, it seems.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Amber agrees, slinking into the crowd as best as she can slink in a cocktail dress. She doesn’t even look over the ledge, just heading out.

Malin is making sure all of the details are clear as can be and she tells Matthew, “This is perfect,” in a warm tone, and then winks at Charlotte.

Matthew isn’t drunk yet, and he keeps on tipping on that cocktail, an arm slung around Malin’s shoulders. “This was an alright party,” gets decided, “The host was rude,” and now she’s dead but he’s glossing over that detail, “And the bartenders sucked, but the music was really good and there was a viral clip in the end so all in all, good party.”

It is because Queen Arachne sacrificed herself that everyone else gets to make it out of the frenzied paparazzi and swarm of recording cameras and phones unscathed. Lightning crackles at some point, singing several devices, but everyone makes it upstairs to the guest bedroom without becoming the next trending topic on BuzzFeed, YT, BlueSKy, Reddit, Twitter, and MyHaven – for now. Matthew and someone’ enxt actions could blow all that out of the water, if they post.

It is because Queen Arachne sacrificed herself that everyone else gets to make it out of the frenzied paparazzi and swarm of recording cameras and phones unscathed. Lightning crackles at some point, singing several devices, but everyone makes it upstairs to the guest bedroom without becoming the next trending topic on BuzzFeed, YT, BlueSKy, Reddit, Twitter, and MyHaven – for now. Matthew and Malin’s enxt actions could blow all that out of the water, if they post.

Entirely distracted by her uploading, Malin relies on Matthew and Charlotte to be her eyes as she stares at the phone, ensuring the footage can be seen by millions as soon as possible. “Babe, I need some hashtags. Whatchu got?”

Sophie nudges Matthew, “Seriously. Please. Wait.”

snags another drink, taking a sip as everyone tootles along. “Hashtag girlboss” Charlotte replies as she takes a sip, leaning into her empathy-free friends.

Nemi looks towards the other two. “You two need to- quite literally just not right now.” she states as she sighs softly.

Amber pauses a brief moment just outside to set off a smoke detector and, thus, the whole house’s fire alarm. Then she skedaddles out with the others.

“Girlboss, that’s ag ood one, Forever Twenty-two,” Matthew throws out just as Sophie is nudging his side. He turns to blink, confused, “Not what?” he asks, gaze flicking from her to Nemi and back. And in real time you see him processing the situation, that this is actually a job and they’re not just rocking out of a party. “Wait, sorry, what’s all this now?”

Arachne bursts in, slamming the door closed as fire alarms go off downstairs. Winded, a touch of perspiration, but her hair is flawless and she’s regained her composure. “You better not post a clip of that girl falling,” she demands of Matthew and Malin as they come out of the mirror. “Wait until we know whether Madison is alive or not.”

Sophie balks at Matthew, “A girl just ..fucking died and you’re trying to up your following account. Her family can SUE you..”

Matthew looks to Malin, “What’s–” and then Arachne is laying it all out there. He considers and then nods, “Oh good call. Don’t want to say she’s dead if she’s alive…” He nods and turns to slip an arm around the Swede, “That’s fine, perfect chance for me to make clips for either scenario, will be useful either way.”

Nemi winces. Sighing softly. “Someone just survived a fall from an impossible height out in the open.” She states and annunciates with her hands VERY quickly. “Because that was in new york right? That building?” She states.

Malin is tapping out that pound symbol and the girlboss that follows, glancing over at Arachne. She glances between her boss and her beloved Matthew, back and forth. “I’m not saying she’s dead. I’m calling her a girl boss,” she reasons.

Teagan buries herself in her phone again because in some ways, it is truly all she knows how to do. And it helps her regain some of her OWN composure. But she’s definitely not ready to, like, interact with the discussion of posting viral clips of someone who might be dead or paralyzed. Maybe trying to, oh, put an artificial delay if needed, sure. But only if it seems… necessary.

Nemi says “Let’s just hope she is’nt dead but her injuries are- severe enough to be believable and not ‘mysterious’“

Amber has consistently had trouble with mirrors tonight, and so it is perhaps no surprise when it takes her longer to make her way through the vanity than the others. But now she slips out of the gate and joins the team.

“Don’t be such a baby, Sophie. People love snuff videos” Charlotte comments to Sophie from her whole chest. “If Matthew posts it, he’ll get real engagement.”