Warning: This one deals with the death of a child which readers may find upsetting.
Also, Lilith is wankered (again).
In an effort to both fill her endless time and avoid bumping into anyone she knew, after leaving Joe’s bar, Lilith had wandered. Firstly, she’d wandered around the forest of Forgotten Hollow, then she’d wandered through Glimmerbrook. Finally, she had wandered so far that she’d found herself completely lost in a sleepy little fishing town she didn’t even know existed.
The only licensed premises anywhere nearby was a coastal bar with a pirate theme. The whole place smelled like fish, including most of the patrons, who were an eclectic mix of seemingly random people without a single drink between them.
Lilith had settled at the bar, the furthest seat from the television – the news channel was on, and she did not want to spend her evening looking at Seth’s face – and had ordered a cosmopolitan from the thematically dressed bartender.
“We don’t be servin’ no fancy cosmopolitans ‘ere!” the bartender growled, thinking she sounded like a fearsome pirate, but actually sounding like an idiot. “Would ye like ta try our house spirit?”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Sure. Why not?”
The bartender began preparing Lilith’s drink with a flourish that belied her toughened character. Lilith couldn’t help but smile as the delicately prepared and fruit-adorned glass was placed into her eager hand.
“One Salty Sea Dog. Five pieces o’ eight.”
“Lovely,” Lilith smiled. “Can I start a tab?” She handed over her credit card while subtly sniffing the colourless liquid but becoming no wiser to what it was.
Not that it mattered. It contained alcohol. Good enough.
Broof had left Melinda and Wyatt to their rooftop stargazing and had headed home, by train, to ‘practice his craft’. Which was actually his code for ‘worship Mother Earth and hope that she’d forgive him’.
He’d spent a few hours trying to draw up and hold enough energy to transportalate just a few feet across the garden of his late-grandmother’s house, but to no avail. As frustration started to get the better of him, he let out a final plea before calling it a night.
“What do I need to do to fix this?” he whispered to the night. “I’ll do anything. Please. Give me a chance.”
Not right on cue, but within a reasonable margin, Broof became aware of a sound behind him. It started quietly, but soon built into a horrible, screeching wail like an animal fighting at the last. He turned shakily towards the source of the noise, expecting to face the glowing, hollowed eyes of the night wraith, come to complete his descent beyond the salvation of pure magic.
“I’m no Barbie doll, I’m not your baby girl,” she sang, at least, that’s what Broof assumed the awful sounds she was making were supposed to be. She swayed from side-to-side completely out of time to her words. “I’ve done ugly things and I have made mistakes.”
Lilith snapped around, almost falling over in the process.
“Oh bloody hell, not you,” she hiccupped, her knees shaking beneath her. “What are you… are you… oh…”
Somewhere between relief and dismay, Broof waited until Lilith had finished ruining his flowerbed. She wiped her mouth, staring at the ashy puddle she’d just created.
“Oh, it was white rum!” she laughed and looked up at Broof who was scratching his head. He’d asked for forgiveness, for a way to find redemption, and he’d been granted a drunken vampire. Was he supposed to draw a conclusion from that? Was this some sort of cruel joke?
“Broompig,” Lilith croaked, a trickle of sick running from her nose. “I knew you were stalking me. You… you knob.”
Broof tensed his jaw; his famous patience surely tested. “If anything you’re stalking me.”
“Then why are you in my garden, huh?” Lilith asked through the bravado of beer goggles. “Answer me that!”
Broof merely blinked. “This is my garden you’re puking in.” He stepped a little closer. Not near enough to be in the line of fire, but plenty close enough to inhale the intoxicating fumes on her and watch her eyes spinning in random directions. “Holy— you’re completely wrecked, aren’t you?”
“I’m not! Just a little… queasy.” She shrugged. “Must be something I ate. Or drank. Maybe I’m allergic to the blood of creepy, bearded, stalker witches,” she snorted; the action causing her hamster cheeks to fill up once more and Broof to swiftly retreat.
“Ugh. Bollocks. Bollocks.” Lilith stayed down, spluttering, until nothing else came out. “I think that’s the lot. You’ll enjoy mopping that up, won’t you, Broompig?” She tried to get to her feet while continuing her song. “I am not as pretty as those girls in magazines -hiccup- I am rotten… rotten… urgh.”
He should have let her go. Left her to sleep it off in a puddle of puke. But on the slightest off-chance that this was some sort of sign from a higher power, he extended his hospitality towards her, instead.
“Come on in,” he insisted softly, momentarily shrugging off his concern for his eardrums and the state of his soft furnishings. “You’re in no fit state to be wandering drunk and alone in the dark—“
Lilith guffawed, waving him away. “I’m the thing to be afraid of in the dark. I could kill you like that,” she clicked her fingers. At least she tried to, they didn’t quite connect. “And I’m not drunk,” she insisted, finally managing to stand and looking him fast in the eye.
Broof only nodded and gestured at the ground. “Lilith, you aren’t wearing any shoes.”
“Can you cross the threshold without permission?” Broof asked as Lilith approached his front door, stumbling slightly but refusing any help from him.
“You already gave me permission.”
“I suppose I did,” Broof said, taking a quick scan of his surroundings for anything breakable or sharp. “Can I offer you a drink?”
Lilith snorted. “I’m not an animal, Broompig. I can control myself, you know.”
“I was only being polite.” Broof seated himself at his altar, to record the night’s findings in his journal, while Lilith bumbled around making snide observations.
“Why have you got all these birdy feathery thingies?” she asked, gesturing at the wall.
“Ma’s cat used to catch a lot of birds. Ma made a habit of identifying the remains,” he replied, reminding himself to take them down so he’d never have to tell this story again.
“You witches are nuts,” the barefoot, intoxicated vampire proclaimed, heading towards the kitchen and flicking on the lights. She ran her fingernails over the countertop. “There’s a shadow of a coffee stain on this counter, you know.”
Broof’s eye twitched. “I know.”
Lilith fell quiet for a while. So quiet in fact that Broof stopped writing to see what had happened. She was standing before the fire, staring up at the small frame on the mantlepiece.
“This is the kid from your memory,” she stated. “Your daughter, right?”
Broof abandoned his journal and joined Lilith at the fireplace. This was the last photo he had, and he wanted her nowhere near it.
“Yes,” he replied. “That’s Cabbage.”
Lilith guffawed. “Cabbage?! What kind of name is that? What, were you eating coleslaw at the time? Did you plan to name her siblings Carrot and Mayonnaise?”
Broof made a non-committal noise. “Her mother named her.”
“Does she live with her mother?” Lilith asked, her interest waning.
“She doesn’t.” He paused for a second. “She’s passed.”
“Her mother? So where does Cabbage live? Or is she all grown-up now? I can’t bloody tell with you witches.”
Broof grimaced. “No. Her mother, Claudia, is very much alive. Cabbage passed. About a month after this photo was taken, in fact.”
It took a minute, but the effect of his words was like a cold bucket of water over Lilith’s head, bringing her swiftly closer to sobriety and the wave of shame it always brought.
“I am so bloody sorry. Cabbage is a lovely name, unique—“
“It’s fine,” he said quietly, gently caressing the photo. “You don’t name your child after a cruciferous vegetable unless you can handle the flack.”
“She died,” Lilith managed, her throat almost fully blocked with her metaphorical foot.
“Yes, we’ve established that,” he murmured, heading back towards the altar.
What happened? Lilith blurted, stopping Broof in his tracks.
He turned to face her, wearing a look of pure horror, but it wasn’t until his brain opened itself up to her, like a book, that Lilith realised she’d unwittingly addressed her insensitive question to his mind, rather than to his ears.
And thus, he was compelled to answer.
“There aren’t any here, Cabbage.” Broof had sighed, making another half-hearted peek into the nearest shrubbery. “Time to go home.”
“No! Not yet!” The little girl’s voice was squeaky, like a dog toy, and full of the undammable energy only a child could hold as she bounded around her father, blocking his path, and grinning up at him eagerly. “We haven’t checked the lake!”
“We’re not checking the lake. It’s getting late.”
“But we haven’t seen any whirlyflower frogs!” Cabbage complained. “You promised we would!”
Broof sighed. He should have known after the whole turtle hatching saga in the summer that viewing natural phenomena was not something he could promise to his child. He briefly considered conjuring up the image of a whirlyflower frog to appease his daughter, but a whole day of crawling around in the mud and mulch of the riverbed had somewhat dampened his energy.
And he needed to keep at least a little to face his ex-wife. Speaking of which. Or should that be witch? “Sweetheart,” he began, naturally shifting the blame for his shortcomings to his recently estranged wife. “If I don’t get you home to your mother soon—“
Cabbage placed her hands on her hips and frowned up at him. “Are you blaming Mommy for breaking your promise?”
“So you’re afraid of Mommy? Is that it?”
Broof faltered at this challenge. Reminding himself he was still the parent, to avoid answering her question, he switched to a sterner tone. “Enough of that attitude, young lady. It’s too dangerous to look for frogs right now. It’s dark, it’s cold and the banks of the lake will be slippery.”
“But whirlyfrogs!” she whined.
“No buts, Cabbage. If nature doesn’t wish it so, it will not be so,” he reminded her. She looked at the floor and shrugged sadly, breaking his heart. His voice softened. “We’ll find the frogs another time, all right?”
“They only come out once a year,” she mumbled.
“Then we’ll look next year. And every year until we find them.”
Cabbage wiped her damp cheeks with her dirty hands and looked up at him. “Promise?”
Darn. He’d probably be promising the impossible again, but he’d figure it out. He’d make it happen.
He nodded. “I promise.”
With all the effort in the world, Lilith managed to pull herself from Broof’s memories, staggering back a few paces towards the sink and taking her tendrils with her.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered. “I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t mean to— I can’t stop that. I can’t turn it off—“
“It’s all right,” Broof said softly. “You’d have found out sooner or later.” He sighed. “I should have taken her to the lake, but I took her home. That was the last time I ever saw her.”
Lilith had never been great at the touchy-feely side of life. Broof wasn’t offering anything further – staring at the photo, seemingly elsewhere. It took a few minutes for her addled brain to put together the pieces he had given her.
“Oh my word,” she gasped. “She went to the lake by herself, didn’t she?”
He responded quietly with a mirthless little laugh. “My promises lost all meaning to her, it seems. She climbed out of her bedroom window not five minutes after Claudia put her to bed, we think.”
He turned towards Lilith, but his gaze didn’t meet her eyes. “She never came back.”
Lilith wanted to tear her brain out as she felt her intrusive little needles continue to probe him, unrestrained by the sheer volume of alcohol in her system.
“I’d better go,” she slurred, rising from a stool she didn’t realise she’d sat down on.
Broof was instantly snapped from his reverie. He reached for her arm and missed. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you—“
“You haven’t,” Lilith insisted. “I mean, I’m upset, obviously, but… but you don’t need my probes in your head right now—”
“—or to deal with me stumbling around here, cracking jokes like some sort of drunken funeral clown,” Lilith groaned. “No, I mean, oh balls. I’ll just go.”
Broof’s smile was genuine as Lilith mumbled and slurred her way into a net of awkwardness she couldn’t get out of.
“You don’t have to dance around me. It was a long time ago, Lilith,” he explained. “I wouldn’t say I was completely healed – I’m not sure one ever can be after losing a child – but a large portion of that is because I find it so painful to talk about. So, in a way, your prying is helpful.”
“Yeah right,” Lilith muttered, finding her feet. “I should still go, though. I’m not good at this stuff even when I’m sober and by the time I get back to my house it’ll be time to set back off to check in with the green goblin.”
“You’re only visiting her to be fed, yes?”
“And I’m only visiting her to feed you, so why don’t you just stay here?”
“Stay here?” Lilith asked, taken aback. “With you?”
“I’m not Satan,” he laughed. “And I don’t mean forever, just for tonight.”
Lilith glanced through the archway at the tidy bedroom with its solitary bed. “Oh, right, I see what you’re after,” Lilith scoffed. “I feel sorry for you, but not that sorry for you.”
“Darn it,” Broof uttered. “Pity sex is my favourite kind, too.”
Broof’s face was completely deadpan, so it took Lilith a while to figure out what he’d said. “Was that…? Did you just make a joke?”
“Was it funny?”
“Then I guess I didn’t,” Broof replied, his lips curling into a smile. The action appeared to be infectious as Lilith’s face quickly mirrored it.
“You’re a very strange person.”
“Where did you leave your shoes again?”
Touché. Lilith rolled her eyes. “If I stay – if! How do I know you won’t try and maul me in the middle of the night?”
“Because one, you’re a sleepless mind-reader, two, I value my manhood and three, you stink,” he answered. “Although should you wish to shower and change, I can find you something clean. How do I know you won’t maul me?”
Lilith looked down at her bare feet, scratched and filthy from her wandering in the forests. She couldn’t remember what she’d done with her boots or why she took them off. Her head was still spinning. The idea of lying on a soft bed and embracing catatonia for a few hours, even next to this weird witch, sounded much more preferable than roaming the forest all night and picking thorns out of her feet all day while Sage moaned at her. But would she be giving Broof the wrong idea?
“Would you prefer to have this room or the one upstairs?” he asked.
“What? This place has an upstairs?” She’d only been here a few times prior to tonight, but she didn’t recall there being another bedroom, let alone another floor. “Since when?”
“Since I divorced Claudia and needed a place to stay,” Broof replied, holding open a nearby door to Lilith to pass through. “I was close to Ma but even I realised that sharing a bed with your grandma as a fully-grown man was odd. Of course, once I got the job at the Moss mansion, I moved in there for the most part.”
Lilith nodded, reaching the upper landing and taking in the powdery space that greeted her. “This is far more delicate-looking than I thought Ma’s bedroom would be,” she admitted, surprised.
“This is my room,” Broof said.
Lilith didn’t respond; she was far less surprised at this.
Not willing to put her foot into her mouth any further that night, she planned to ignore making any further comment on the décor, but her eyes were drawn to something out of place; a suitcase on the floor that was piled high with old books.
“What are all these?”
Broof walked over. “The coven’s old grimoires. I was supposed to study them to see if there was any information about a vampire cure, but it’s quite hard to get past the bloodcurdling hexes and gruesome drawings of their victims.”
“Sounds interesting. Mind if I take a look?”
“Be my guest. I guess you’re staying, then?” He looked around awkwardly, probably waiting for Lilith to respond but she didn’t. “All right, well, I’ll take the downstairs room then. Good night, Lilith.”
“Night Broom—” Lilith faltered. For some reason, insulting the man who had offered her a room after she’d invaded his brain and thrown up in his flowerbeds didn’t seem like the right thing to do. She still wasn’t sure that she trusted him – there was something very off about him – but she might as well be civil, if only to get access to these books. “Night, Broof.”
She waited until he’d descended the stairs and closed the door at the bottom before she reached towards the stack of tomes.
She doubted she’d find anything in here she didn’t already know, but if nothing else, it would pass the empty hours until morning.
And distract her from another day’s worth of thoughts that she simply didn’t want to have seen.
The poor kid. Her poor parents. Tragic.
Settling on the soft bed, Lilith tried to focus on the tiny scrawl etched across the pages, but it jumped and danced into an inky, nonsensical blob. Although, Broof was right; the pictures, the only things she could make out with any clarity, were grim.
He was right about another thing too.
Lilith really did need a shower.
18 thoughts on “Chapter 3.26 – Cabbage”
Your language is so wonderfully picturesque. It opens up so many images in my mind ❤
Poor little Cabbage 😢
She has a grave, but did they ever find her dead body? … Maybe that’s what the pictures with the police should show?
Broof seems so clarified on this loss, though he seems rather disturbed in other areas.
He is in many ways a generally good and caring human being.
I still have a weakness for Lilith, although I’m definitely not a fan of people who are stinking drunk.
It is here that your picturesque language, after all, does not make me turn my back on her. She is an involuntarily funny and she has a very sympathetic tab of a personality.
She wants the good, but all too often tumbles around in a drunken escape from a grim reality. I often forget how young she is, even though she has lived for centuries.
It suggests that Broof and Lilith can use each other for something and it should probably get interesting.
I didn’t expect to get a compliment about my picturesque language in this chapter.
Yes, poor little Cabbage. I didn’t want to show it outright but perhaps I could have made it a little clearer some other way – they did find her body.
Broof being both clarified and disturbed made me laugh. These two have more in common than they think. It’ll certainly be interesting.
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Oh! Regarding cabbage. You made it clear enough, but that’s probably because I’m never quite sure what I see is what it seems to be at first glance.
All these hidden sub-stories make me look for concrete evidence. I just had to make sure 😂
I have a hard time with alcoholics, but your humorous distance made the episode quite funny … especially due to Broof’s reactions,
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I don’t blame you for needing concrete evidence. Still lots of mysteries hidden in plain sight here. 😉
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I’m curious to see how the universe bringing Lilith to Broof’s house will be the ‘answer’ to his magical impotence.
Lol, when the screeching was first mentioned, I wondered if it was Kitty.
So that’s how Cabbage died. 😦
Didn’t Broof have a thing for Lilith? I guess even if it were still true, people are no less attractive than when they’re wasted, puking drunk.
Magical impotence. 😂 Maybe Lilith is the magical equivalent of a little blue pill. Time will tell.
She has spent the last 3 centuries yowling in her feline cage but no, Kitty can really sing. She won’t be murdering Garbage songs in Broof’s back yard anytime soon.
Yes. Just a little girl who wanted to find some frogs.
“Didn’t Broof have a thing for Lilith?” Possibly. He gave three reasons for staying from Lilith’s bed and none of them were ‘I don’t actually fancy you.’
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Didn’t Caleb and Lilith used to feed on children during the worst times? I was half expecting the chapter to take the worst turn… 😅
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Worse than ‘a kid drowned’? Oof, am I that terrible? 😉
(Also, WTF are these emojis? Is it just me? I updated to windows 11 and now they look like maniacs made of Play-Doh)
A’right so what does this tell me? Either that Broof is silly for talking to “Mother Earth” and expecting the world to answer, or that said Mother Earth is a bitch. Or that the dark magic Broof dabbled in after Cabbage died wasn’t the martial kind of dark magic (you can’t blame a guy for wanting revenge in this kinda situation, plus it would be making sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else) but something way worse…
Now wait a moment, there. So if a mind reader asks a question that way, you can’t just not answer? That seriously reminds me of Seth’s predicament again. I wonder if Kitty used to do that a lot. Wonder if that’s why he never does or if he just finds it easier to read memories directly.
…but all this seems just a little… I don’t want to say suspicious, but I feel like there is a window of opportunity left open here. So a cop came to tell them the girl died, I presume. Well we saw the quality of local cops. Maybe everything is as it seems this time and Cabbage really did die that night, but there is so many things that could’ve happened that would only make it seem so.
And the end there just makes me wonder if the whole reason Lilith has a problem with Broof is because he’s a magical guy. Obviously, she has a problem with vampire men, can’t blame her with that kinda history but is she just *that* biased against witch guys too? Seriously. Broof is almost as wholesome as Chuck. Seriously Lils, think a little. At least when you aren’t wasted. :7
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As ‘Mother Earth’ in this scenario is played by me, possibly the latter. 😆 Witches dabble with dark magic for all sorts of reasons, not all of them malicious.
I knew you’d find the ‘forced answer’ nugget there. Maybe Seth doesn’t want to do it, maybe he can’t do it. You’re very much along the right lines thinking that this has something to do with him always feeling like he has to answer, though.
Ralf was slightly less inept and jaded back when he came to break the news of their daughter’s fate to Cabbage’s parents. However much Broof would like to someone else to blame for his daughter’s death, it was the lake that took her.
Lilith has a very specific thing she hates and she doesn’t really realise what it is quite yet, but Broof definitely has it.
Humm… I guess what I meant isn’t really “malicious,” in a way. But, blame my weird thinking, I think that for example attempted necromancy would rack up many more “corruption” points than trying to kill somebody, y’know?
Did you? *laughs* Glad I didn’t disappoint! Interesting though! If the case is that Seth just cannot do this… it would raise many questions as to the difference between his and Lilith’s powers, which at first glance look to be the same. Questions such as can he switch off? Is it a matter of skill versus power? Or maybe a case of some sort of mental block on Seth’s part? Would not be at all surprised at the last. Sometimes, one isn’t exactly aware of the reason why they “can’t” do something…
Oh, whoops. Wrong assumptions the whole time then. So she fell in the lake and drowned is that what really happened? …a witch kid? I mean I guess anything can happen… *suspicious glances*
“Quite yet” huh? Too bad for Lils, anyway. Honestly, it just really sucks to be her. p: …no pun intended, vamps and all. XD
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Attempted necromancy would certainly score high on Mother Earth’s corruption scale, yep, yep, yep. You know you’re on to something here.
At first glance they do appear the same, maybe the biggest clue here is the difference in how their mindreading attempts feel to those being read. Imagine if we did all know why we couldn’t do the things we couldn’t do. Would be all be hyper self-aware and happy or just miserable for eternity without resolve?
She drowned in the lake, yes. Cabbage was non-magical. But you know the drill by now, if something doesn’t feel right, may not be.
*grin* Ha. Now I was worried that Mother Earth just doesn’t forgive, but it seems she might, it would only take something equally big to remove the taint. Which is very understandable, balance is important. Big whoopsie, Broof! Understandable in its own way, but still. Going against the natural order of things and all that? Ouch.
Hmm… when you say it like that… they do say Seth’s power feels like being compressed which… might push some thought *inwards* instead of drawing them out? Heh, wild guesses here, but it’s all so interesting. And complicated, and well thought out. It’s been some time since I told you last how much I love all the detail you put into this, it’s high time I did it again!
Interesting thought! I guess that would depend on whether or not knowing the reason would help in removing it! I mean, sometimes there is really no way for us to do something, sometimes the problem can be solved if properly identified…
Huh, that. Magic genetics are weird… XD
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We shall certainly find out if Mother Earth will forgive and under what terms.
Aww, shucks. I’m glad you enjoy my over-obsessive details. 😆
Poor Cabbage. Just a girl looking for frogs and having the worst happen as a result makes it so much worse than a vampire coming for her, or foul play, or any of the other hundreds of dramatic possibilities that I had in my head. Maybe because the vampires and other supernatural options are still fantastical. This could have happened to anyone’s child, both in fiction and reality. Oh that’s so incredibly sad.
No wonder Broof turned to dark magic. I’m willing to bet my left arm that he tried to bring her back. I hope that mother earth struck him down immediately, that he failed in his attempt before anything happened and that Cabbage wasn’t subjected to something horrific.
Drunken funeral clown. Where have I heard that one before? 🤭 hopefully Lilith will be a little less hostile towards Broof after this – we never did learn why she was so aggressive towards him to begin with, though I have my guesses. I wonder if part of Broof has linked April to his late Cabbage. I wonder if that part blames himself for her turning into a vampire like he blames himself for Cabbage’s death.
I’m also very curious to officially meet Claudia now. She’s been portrayed as a horrible woman but that’s solely been through Broof’s eyes. They already divorced before Cabbage’s death – what was the cause of it, I wonder?
“I can control myself, you know.” Riiiiiight. Being near black-out-drunk, losing your shoes and having no memory where they are and being unable to keep your mind probes to yourself is the epitome of control. The more she drinks, the less in control she seems to be of herself, and yet she keeps drinking.
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When it originally happened in game I didn’t even know it was possible for child sims to drown and it caught me completely off-guard. I cried my heart out.
Yes indeed. Your arm is safe but as for the rest… (The rest of your wonderings, not the rest of your body. That is totally safe unless you start betting limbs on, I dunno, Will turning out to be the hero or something equally crazy.)
You will learn why Lilith is so hostile when she does, probably, unless you’ve already figured it out. 😁
You meet Claudia properly in a couple of chapters so you can judge for yourself whether Broof’s opinion is accurate or tainted by bitterness.
I so want Yibbo to stage an intervention for Lilith now.
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MY GIRL LILITH IS BACK BABY!
Alright, now hear me out. Broof + Lilith. Brilith, if you will. I know that I was not in favor of this before but this chapter softened my heart towards ole Broof-y and Lilith needs someone to take care of her for once in her life.
I think Lilith is going to blow this whole thing wide open. I think Broof is super powerful and its blocked, something to do with his daughter’s death, and Lilith is going to help him uncover it (fingers crossed, because they need powerful witches against Kitty).
Is his daughter dead? Are we sure?
I have my suspicions…
btw – this chapter was an absolute riot. You write incredible one-liners.
I affectionately call them ‘Broolith’ because no combination of those names is attractive in any way whatsoever.
Lilith would definitely fight you for suggesting that she needed anyone. She can do it all by herself. Look how good everything is going. She is ON IT. 😆
Powerful witches against Kitty. Interesting. Predicting some sorta showdown, are we?
Ha! Thanks. I loved writing this one. 😁
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