Verity Alice Price

Verity watched the screens depicting Skywalker's last walk with a rictus that only barely passed itself off as a grin. She darted her eyes over to Liam, who was watching this with way too much satisfaction. She had been watching the whole thing, nodding right along with it, and then those gates had slammed shut and something within her had snapped.

At first, she'd been afraid that something really had snapped. That was a real danger when you were a porcelain music box ballerina. But no, it had just been her mind coming back to herself - and boy, she'd nearly snapped again when she realized she was made of porcelain - and realizing that she was watching a man walk to his own gruesome death.

"No!" she cried as the machine started up.

[Open for him who lives here, but also to anyone wanting to visit/intimidate. Liam modded with permission]

The high of taking down the ghouls who'd been murdering those girls had worn off sometime yesterday afternoon, leaving behind only the remaining guilt that she hadn't figured it out sooner and that she'd managed to have a great time with Liam and Sarah on Friday night, even with four dead girls hanging on her conscience. She'd gone to dance practice in a funk and James had ended up calling it half an hour early because her brain was clearly not in the music.

Which was even more depressing, because if there was one thing Verity had always been good at losing herself in, it was the dance.

Cries of exultation greeted Verity's key turning in the lock. She opened the front door to find the entire Aeslin congregation gathered on and around the tiny table where she kept the mail. Several of them were waving tiny banners made of tissue paper that had been meticulously painted with drops of blue, black, and red ink.

"Hail!" shouted the head priest, waving his banner with extra enthusiasm.

"HAIL!" agreed the congregation.

"Hail," Verity said tiredly, and shut the door, taking off Valerie Pryor's wig and tossing it onto her desk, since the mail table was in use. “What's the occasion?”

"Today is the Holy Feast of I Swear, Daddy, I'll Kiss the Next Man That Walks Through That Door," said the priest, sparking a second, more solemn declaration of "Hail" from the rest of the mice.

"Cool." Verity started for the living room. The mice scampered after her, still waving their banners wildly in all directions. Aeslin religious rituals were nothing if not enthusiastic. "Do I need to do anything?"

One of the novice priests looked at her like he wasn't sure whether or not she was joking. "Priestess…"

"Right, right. I have to kiss the next man who walks through the door, right?" Cheers from the mice, interspersed with more cries of "Hail." "Got it. At least I'm not expecting company." She had some quality brooding to get in.

Her stomach rumbled and she cursed herself for not stopping to grab food on the way. Time to order takeout--and specify that the driver needed to be a girl or non-binary. Thanks mice.

[For one, text taken and heavily adapted from Chapter 14 of Seanan McGuire's Discount Armageddon. Out of chronology but I just love this holiday so much. Up early because time zones are dumb (and also SP)]

After the effects of the brainwashing had worn off (and she had made amends to the colony for nearly sacrificing one of their own), Verity had fled back to the family homestead, ostensibly for 'the holidays' but mostly just to get away. Which had been great and all until Sarah had started complaining that 'Verity's constant repressing is starting to give me a headache' and the whole family had wanted to know what Verity had been repressing, which completely undermined the point of repressing in the first place.

So rather than staying through the New Year, as had been her vague plan, she ended up catching a portal back to the island. The package outside her door gave her pause for a moment, but after ascertaining that it didn't appear to be a bomb or bobby-trapped, she brought it inside and unwrapped it. The card had her smiling, as did the gift inside. Though her smile was nothing compared to the squeals and glee of the Aeslin who appeared out of nowhere to make off with the beads and clothing to hand out according to their arcane distribution systems.

Verity was still feeling a little fragile, but it was good to be home.