Zania Castell (brokendoll) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-07-20 14:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | #november 2017, reagan, reagan x zania, zania |
Who: Reagan and Zania
When: Late morning, Monday, November 6th
Where: Belladonna Botanical
Status: Complete
It had been an insanely long five days. The hours felt like years, and while Reagan was aware of how dramatic that sounded, it was the honest truth. She had felt a little better after spending some time with her brother, and after he left, Reagan tried to clean up and organize the books and notes she had been working on since Thursday. There was still no contact from Caius, which was disheartening, but Reagan knew she needed to let him come to her. There was just no way he was off living his life like nothing had happened, like everything was normal for him. Right? Right. He just needed time to try and sort out his mind. But he could come to her. He always did.
The shop had been closed since Thursday and Reagan knew she couldn’t go much longer before her finances began to really suffer, so after making a stop at the hardware store to buy Rost a new gate lock for the one she had broken, Reagan drove to work. She had Emma scheduled from three to close, but Reagan knew she could handle opening on her own. She may have wanted to go home and bury herself under a few blankets for the day, but she had a business to run and nobody wanted to come into Belladonna to be served by a woman who looked as if death had warmed over, even if that’s how she felt. That wasn’t likely to sell any product so Reagan wore a simple blue maxi dress, her hair pinned up out of her face. She had carefully applied just enough makeup to try and hide the dark circles under her eyes and she supposed she was satisfied with the end result.
Reagan went through the motions of the morning. Cash counted, register ready, inventory stocked. She lit a lavender calendar behind the counter, hoping the scent would help calm her and keep her patient when people annoyed her. Reagan was on edge, and she knew it. The morning was slow, and after a few customers came and went, Reagan went into the back to grab a bottle of water. As she was twisting the cap off, she heard the soft buzz above her, alerting her to the fact that someone had just walked in the shop. Sighing, Reagan carried the bottle of water back out front, though she slowed once she caught sight of the bright red hair. Zania. Her body tensed and Reagan was maybe a little relieved that she wasn’t so out of it that she couldn’t muster up her usual Zania-bitch face. It took some effort, but given what had happened with Caius, seeing Zania caused an uncomfortable feeling to start forming in her stomach. Zania never came into her shop, at least not while Reagan was there. So there had to be a reason for it.
Reagan set the bottle of water down on the counter and watched the other woman, waiting to see what was said first in order to determined how she needed to behave.
It had been days since Zania had seen Caius, but when Monday came he was still on her mind. Even with the full moon as a distraction, he lingered in her thoughts, leaving her feeling unsettled, the norm askew in a way she didn’t like it. She knew, based upon that night, that she was unlikely to see him again. He wanted something from her that she wasn’t willing to give and the more she thought about it, the more she worried about him. What happened to someone when you took away the center of their life? Their anchor? Their life started to crumble as they reached for anything else to fill that space. People survived, but this wasn’t a conventional loss. He couldn’t mourn her because she wasn’t gone. And moving on would mean abandoning the life he’d worked so hard to build. Zania might not have been close to Caius in recent years, but she knew that ambition had still burned inside of him as of the Halloween gala. Seeing that Caius gone forever was too much for her to swallow without doing something. The question was what.
The obvious answer was to dig into her research and find a spell that resembled the one put on him, along with the counter spell. Which was all well and good except she had more spells to go through than she had time. And she didn’t really know what she was dealing with. Caius had given her pieces, but what it knowing what curse they were breaking mattered? Or what they’d used to break it? Caius couldn’t remember, so she couldn’t ask him. He might have the notes, but he wouldn’t have the details. The only person who might know was the one person she really didn’t want to talk to. But also the one most likely to be doing her own research. This might not be Caius’ priority, but she imagined it was Reagan’s. It would be if she was in her shoes.
Zania had never set foot in Belladonna when Reagan was there, and even then it was a rarity. She felt out of place there, with her dreadlocks and her ripped jeans, like she wasn’t clean enough to be in a shop made of bright white lights and glass. She didn’t immediately see Reagan when she came in, so she took a second to look at the offerings, curiously picking up one bottle to smell it before returning it to the shelf. Then Reagan returned and she tucked her hands in her pockets before walking over to her. “Hi,” she said. “I thought maybe we could talk. If you have a few.”
It was instinctual to want to say No, I don't have a few, but it was quite obvious that Reagan did. The shop was empty, after all. And Reagan was fighting against the temptation to retreat, to shut down any possibility of Zania bringing up Caius because Reagan wasn't sure she would want to hear what the other woman had to tell her. There was also the matter that Reagan didn't look her best, and while she didn't really care what Zania, of all people, thought of her, Reagan took pride in her appearance, especially around people she felt superior to. At the moment she felt stuck, so she rested her hands on top of each other on the countertop. "All right," Reagan said, sounding as calm and disinterested as she could, even if she didn't feel that way. "What do we need to talk about?" The answer was probably obvious, but no one said Reagan had to make this easy.
There was no way Reagan had no idea why she was there. They had too little in common for it to be any reason other than Caius. But of course she would play dumb, like everything was fine. It didn’t look like everything was fine. Reagan looked tired to Zania, her hair and makeup half done, like she didn’t feel up to the effort. On anyone else, she wouldn’t have noticed, but Reagan usually look pristine. Zania sighed. “Can you tell me what happened to Caius? I’m…worried.” It wasn’t something she liked admitting, especially to Reagan. It felt like admitting a weakness, something she tended to avoid, but always would with an enemy. Not that Reagan was one, but friend and acquaintance weren’t right either.
Something bristled in Reagan, that Zania would be worried about Caius. Her Caius. It felt evident then that the two had seen one another since the curse was broken and Reagan's fingers curled into her palms in an effort to try and combat some of the temper that was rising. Temper that was masking the panic and fear that something might have happened, even though Reagan knew Caius would never cheat on her. Well, her Caius would never cheat on her. But he wasn't really her Caius at the moment, was he? "He didn't tell you?" Reagan asked instead. She couldn't see how Caius could have avoided it, if the two spoke, and given Zania was a witch, Caius would probably feel comfortable explaining it to her. Or trying to, since he probably couldn't remember much about the magic they'd used.
“He told me what he can remember,” Zania said. “Which is shit. His brain’s Swiss cheese, all holes, and-- and I know the gist of what happened, but he can’t tell me the details.” You can, she thought. Reagan might be the only one who could fix Caius, which was fitting, and she should probably leave it alone and let her do it herself. But the puzzle was too perplexing to leave alone and she couldn’t quite stomach the idea that Caius as she knew him might be gone for good because she didn’t even try. She had to at least try before giving up.
Reagan sighed and lifted her hands to rub them over her face wearily. There was a strange mixture of emotions churning through her now. Irritation that Zania had the nerve to think Reagan would actually tell her anything, and maybe the desire to talk, because even though she had her parents and Nate, Reagan felt... alone. Her lack of close female friendships had never been more glaringly evident than these past few days. Zania was not a friend, but she was a witch and if there was even the tiniest possibility that she could help return Caius to her, Reagan knew she would swallow her pride and try, if only for a little while.
"I can't really tell you what happened, because I don't know," Reagan said finally, dropping her hands away from her face. "We broke a strong curse that had been affecting our families, but in the process, there was a rebound of some kind. It struck Caius. It wiped his memory of me. I don't know what kind of magic it was, at least not yet. I've been researching day and night since it happened. But I don't believe it was caused by the spell we used to break the curse. I think it was attached to the curse itself, so when the curse was broken, it would... oh, activate, I guess, for lack of a better word."
It was weird to see any emotion from Reagan other than disdain and irritation, and Zania reckoned that the only reason she was seeing this much was due to the strain this was putting on her. “I’ve never done it myself, but I’ve heard you can-- it’s like-- connect one spell to another. Like a failsafe. Usually there’s a relationship between the two spells, so...Do you mind telling me what the curse was?” It was a lot of personal information and she didn’t expect Reagan to give it to her, but the more she had to work with, the higher her chances of understanding might be. “I want to help. If you’ll let me.”
Of course Zania had heard about it. She was a skilled witch. Reagan and Caius were well versed in spells and curses alike, and they knew about spells within spells. They had just made the mistake of not considering this curse could involve one. It was frustrating because they had considered almost everything else. "I don't know the specifics of the curse, Zania," Reagan said with some frustration. "It's centuries old. It's dark magic designed to doom whoever is affected by it and in our case, members of our family destined to fall in love and then be torn apart, usually by death." She paused, trying to remind herself that Zania was new to this problem, if Caius hadn't told her about it. She wouldn't know the details the way she and Caius had. Reagan waved her hand and closed her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry. I'm exhausted." And Gods help her, Zania wanted to help. Another battle warred inside of her and Reagan studied the other woman, hoping that she didn't appear too suspicious of her motives. "You want to help. You understand that's a difficult for me to accept, given the circumstances. Did Caius come to you?" Maybe she went to Caius. Reagan didn't know, and not knowing was nothing short of torture.
Zania’s brow rose at the description of the curse, and for the first time wondered how long this had been going on. Caius had never told her the details, but now she wondered how many had died and how. It would have been quite the puzzle, as well as an accomplishment to break, considering how old it was. But if love was a piece of it, love between two people, then that explained the failsafe. If you couldn’t kill the lovebirds with the original curse, then you might as well ruin them. It was clever, but she wasn’t in the mood to be impressed. She was patient with Reagan, accepting that this was hard on her, up until the question turned on her. “Why is that so hard to imagine?” she asked, an edge creeping into her voice. “Yeah, he came to see me. We were friends once.” And a lot more, but she wasn’t here to rub salt in an old wound.
The look Reagan gave Zania expressed the fact that she clearly knew they had been more than friends once, and Zania should have probably realized that particular fact was the only thing making this difficult. Okay, probably not the only thing, but it certainly felt more pronounced now than it usually did. "I never said it was hard to imagine," Reagan replied coolly. "I was merely asking you a question." She wanted to ask if they slept together but her heart was beating too hard in her chest that she wasn't sure she could get the question out without her revealing the tangle of emotions she was experiencing. "I know you were friends, and I know you were more than that before, but what I don't get is how you can pretend like that shouldn't bother me. I haven't heard from him since he left last week and..." Reagan waved toward Zania, her throat closing up briefly. "He went to you." Gods, it felt like she was in high school again... or just a few years younger than she was now. She knew Caius had slept with other women but it felt like Zania had been the only repeat offender. It was really difficult for her to just brush it aside, even though she desperately wanted to.
Zania’s lips pressed into a hard line and she looked away from Reagan, hands balling into fists where they were tucked away inside her coat. She didn’t want to have this conversation now or ever, not with Reagan, not with Caius, not with anyone. She didn’t owe Reagan anything. They’d never been friends. But she wasn’t sure they would get anywhere unless she said something. “Only because he can’t remember you,” she said, still not looking at Reagan. Her gaze shifted to the ground, then the ceiling, before she forced herself to look at Reagan again. “I don’t want Caius, Reagan. I might have, once, but… I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice. And that’s all I’ve ever been to him.” Zania shook her head as she looked away. She’d always known Reagan didn’t like her, but her opinion of her had to be pretty damn low to think she’d jump at sleeping with Caius just because he showed up at her door. Even if they weren’t married, Zania would’ve been reluctant at this point. “This was a bad idea,” she said, laughing bitterly as she turned to leave.
Being broken up, or erased from one's memory, didn't make the knowledge of it any easier. Maybe Zania had been second choice, but she had still been a choice, and Caius had always known how to rub salt in the wound when they were angry with one another, at least where it came to Zania. It wasn't like Reagan was Miss Innocent. She had slept with other men over the years, but none of them had gotten under Caius's skin the way Zania got under Reagan's. It was a bit odd, watching Zania. Not because of what she was saying, but because of the way she wouldn't quite look at Reagan while she was talking. Like she was trying to avoid Reagan seeing any kind of vulnerability in her eyes. Sadly enough, Reagan could relate to that. Arching a dark brow, Reagan came around the counter when Zania turned to go. "Was it? Did you really believe that just walking in here and voicing concern for Caius would mean I would become some open book and tell you everything you want to know without any of the past being dealt with? If you actually want to help, prove it instead of running away."
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zania snapped as she turned to face Reagan. Just like that, years of hurt and jealousy bubbled to the surface, fanning the flames of her anger. It wasn’t really Reagan’s fault, Caius had been the one using her, but it was Reagan that often reminded her of it, whereas she and Caius had moved on. Or she thought they had, right up until he’d shown up at her house. Now she realized they both expected her to be that kind of person, one who gave in to her desires with no thought of the consequences. She might have been in high school, but that was a long time ago. “I get nothing out of this. Right now I have a friend who’s allowed to visit me for the first time in years, and I’m willing to give that up because it’s not him. He’s missing the things that make him Caius and of course it’s you. It always has been. And yet I still came here, knowing you would look down your pretty powdered nose at me, like it’s my fault you two couldn’t get your shit together. If that’s not good enough, I don’t know what is.”
Reagan's jaw clenched with the urge to interrupt, or just scream at Zania to leave, but she something held her back, and she allowed the woman to have her say. They faced off now, both pink cheeked from temper and lingering resentments. "First of all," Reagan began, her tone tightly controlled, "Caius is allowed to do whatever he wants. I don't control him... I don't give him permission to do anything. I didn't then, and I don't now. That's not how our relationship works. Maybe he knew I wouldn't like him spending time with an ex-lover, but if he really wanted to do it, he would have. Second of all, the reason I dislike you so much isn't because I blame you for Caius and I not being able to get our shit together for so long, or even because you guys slept together. It's because I'm pretty sure you were the only woman who wasn't a one night stand, or some brief fling to piss me off. He went back to you on more than one occasion, and that told me he probably cared about you on some level. That is more upsetting to me than the sex, Zania. Caius probably knew it too, and maybe that's why it hurt more when he went to you and not some random woman in town. Lastly, I didn't powder my nose today, thank you very much." Reagan was speaking furiously now, as if she was out of breath, even though there was no real heat or anger behind her words anymore. She was emotionally exhausted from the past week, and now this, and it felt like there were things tumbling out of her that she probably shouldn't say, but she was unable to stop saying them. Maybe Reagan needed to say and hear them out loud as much as Zania did, she didn't know.
“So you hate me because he actually liked me? How is that my fault?” Zania asked, taken aback. “He married you, Reagan. I have never understood the games you two play, but if that’s not enough proof for you that you’re the one he wants to be with, I don’t know what is. He’s going to care about other people. Or he should. It would be weird if he didn’t. Or maybe that’s just me. I don’t have to be sleeping with someone for them to matter.” That was why she still wanted to help Caius. It wasn’t that she was some kind of a saint, looking to help anyone who needed it, but Caius was hers on some level that Reagan wouldn’t understand. He made it into that circle where she’d do anything for him if he needed it. And right now he did, so she was trying, but she could only get so far if Reagan didn’t want her there.
Gods, she just didn't get it. Reagan had to fight from rolling her eyes, because she knew that wouldn't go over well and she would just be letting her emotions get the best of her. She wasn't threatened by Zania anymore, and hadn't been for a long time. But certain things were difficult to let go of, and disliking Zania had always been one of them for her. Reagan rubbed her finger against the side of her nose, sighing softly as she tamped down on her temper. "Maybe it's too complex for me to explain in a way that you'll really understand it," Reagan said, once she dropped her hand away. "I'm not an idiot, Zania. I know Caius will care about other people, and has, and does. That's not at all what I'm saying and it's probably too difficult to try and make you see that, which is not really your fault because I'm pretty sure the only two people who have ever really understood our relationship are myself and Caius. I'm not looking for proof that I'm the only Caius wants to be with. I know I am and I'm not threatened by you. I was, back then, but not anymore. It's just that sometimes old wounds are easily ripped open, and I don't care if you understand that or not because they're my wounds and I'm the one who has to deal with them. I'm feeling them all now because Caius doesn't remember me and I have absolutely no idea what he's doing now, or with who. That confidence is shaky, okay? And frankly, I know I haven't been a nice person to you, but it's not like you haven't deliberately provoked me over the years."
“I provoke everyone I like,” Zania said, completely straight faced. “Ask Nic. He’s my favorite target.” She wasn’t sure she liked Reagan though. The woman had a tendency of making her feel inferior just by being, in part because her mother used to draw a comparison between them. Young witches from rich, powerful families— why couldn’t she be more like Reagan? The one time her mother had actually said those words, Zania had responded by piercing her nose. For all they had in common, they couldn’t be more different. And at the same time, she respected her, though at the moment that was waning. She sighed and gave one of her dreadlocks a tug of frustration. “I didn’t come here to rub salt in old wounds. I definitely don’t have a way to magically heal them. And I understand I’m probably the last person you want to see right now. But I’m offering to help. You can take it or leave it. There’s not a lot I can do without your input.”
They probably had more in common than either of them thought, and that irritated Reagan on some level as well. She was more than confident in who she was, proud of what she had accomplished at such a young age, and she could admit she had an air of superiority around her when dealing with other people. She wouldn't trade her life for anything. But she also envied Zania, a teeny tiny bit, that she could fully be herself and it always felt like the woman had a sense of freedom that Reagan hadn't quite been able to achieve. It was hard to break away from Veronica Kelly. Nate had fared much better than Reagan, but even he wasn't completely free. The look Reagan gave Zania was a dry, unamused one. "Yes, well, we can't always help the feelings we invoke in others, now can we?" she asked. "And I'm not asking you to heal anything. I don't need you to." Reagan could handle her problems on her own. But the problem with Caius was much bigger than anything Reagan had ever dealt with before and it physically pained her to admit she needed help. Right now, it felt like Zania was her only option. Reagan inhaled deeply and then blew out a breath, a lot of the tension and annoyance she had been feeling in the past several minutes slowly eeking out of her. The exhaustion was seeping in again. "If you're willing to help, then you can help. But we need to agree here and now to focus on helping Caius and not fighting with each other, because I don't have the patience or energy for it right now, and I doubt you do either."
Zania resisted the urge to roll her eyes, her restraint wearing thin. She didn’t go out of her way to start fights with people, certainly not other witches capable of doing actual damage to her life. But she also couldn’t change who she was, and who she was got on Reagan’s nerves. It would be foolish to think they could do anything together without bickering. But Reagan was right, she didn’t have the patience for it, and she already wanted to go find some way to unwind. Work would be difficult today. “The last thing I want to do in my spare time is sit around and fight with you,” she said in agreement.
Reagan was well aware of what a disaster this could be. Maybe if they stayed focus on the task at hand, they could succeed. But she already decided if the tension or bickering got to be too much, she would just tell Zania to leave it alone and go back to trying to fix it all on her own. Reagan needed to be one hundred percent dedicated to finding a solution, and she couldn't waste time fighting with Zania Castell. "Then at least we both agree on something," Reagan said. She hesitated and then continued, "If you give me your phone number, I can text you a night to come over and look at what I already have."
God, this was weird. Zania still wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but it had felt right at the time and she was used to going on her gut. If Caius hadn’t come by, she wouldn’t have even known about it all, and it was possible that she’d make things worse instead of better. But on the off chance that things happened for a reason, then maybe her knowing was a good thing. Maybe she could help. Either Reagan thought so too, or she was too desperate to say no, but Zania nodded, picking up one of Reagan’s business cards off the counter and scribbling her number on the back. “I don’t know if the history of it all matters, but I don’t know what I don’t know, if that makes sense. I’ll let you know if I find anything on memory spells. I have a lot that I haven’t even gone through, so I’ll start sifting through that until then.”
Reagan took the business card offered and nodded. She had been trying to become better organized since Nate's visit, and she was reluctant to let Zania into her house until she was sure everything was clean and back in its place. "Thank you," Reagan murmured, well aware that it might have been the first time Reagan ever said those words to Zania Castell. It was usually Nic. Thinking of Zania's brother had Reagan wondering if it would be smart to ask her to bring him along to act as a buffer between the two women, but that wasn't fair to Nic and Reagan could acknowledge that she and Zania were two grown women who should be able to handle this without a babysitter. "I'll be in touch."
“Welcome,” Zania said, eager to leave now that that was settled. Hopefully they’d both have time to cool off and when they finally got together it would be more productive than this had been. It would be an interesting exercise to see if they could talk about Caius’ situation while ignoring the tension that the man caused between them. Maybe it wouldn’t work, but at least then they could say they tried. Caius deserved that much and she was sure Reagan would agree with her on that. She gave Reagan a little nod, then began to back towards the door. “Later then,” she said, then disappeared back out the door.