Chapter Text
It was inevitable that little birds would one day need to leave their nest.
Lincoln still remembered the day that Lori had first left for college. It had hurt to see her go, even knowing that her departure was temporary. And following graduation, when the time had come to watch her leave again, this time for real, it had hurt exactly as much as it had the first time.
Such was the way things. Leni had only been a year younger, so it wasn't long before he found himself seeing off a second sister. And then a third, and so on and so forth, each time the Loud House grew a little less loud. And having recently celebrated his 17th birthday, Lincoln now found himself looking down the barrel of that very same gun. Initially, Lincoln's response to that particular revelation had been panic, with a little abject terror mixed in for good measure. But eventually, he was able to push past the crisis portion of the ordeal and focus on finding a solution. And...there wasn't one, not really. Unless he was willing to settle for a job at Burpin' Burger, or God forbid, Flips, he too would need to leave the nest. But what he had decided on was that he was going to make the best of the time he had left with his family. And that meant squeezing out every last drop of quality time he could with his little sisters.
Some had been easier to deal with than others. Lana wanted to do outdoorsy stuff. Hiking, fishing, camping. The latter of which was really just the first two, but without being able to return to the comforts of home afterward. Lola wanted to do girly stuff, which had come as even less of a surprise. They went shopping (meaning she shopped, while he carried her stuff around), worked on her pageant routines, and had spa days together. That last one, he actually didn't mind much. Or at all. Sometimes you just needed to treat yourself.
But Lucy...well…
"...then you take your knife," His sister instructed him, sternly, as she held up a small blade that, in spite of its size, gleamed with alarming sharpness. "And make a small incision on the tip of your index finger."
Before he could protest, she gave a deft flick of her wrist, and immediately a tiny bead of crimson began forming on her fingertip.
"Now, you need three drops of blood. That's three, Lincoln. No more, no less."
She held her hand out, and applied the tiniest amount of pressure from her thumb to get the...well, the blood flowing. One, two, three, they fell, each landing dead center atop a complicated series of lines and shapes that she'd drawn previously. And as the last drop landed, the entire construct erupted into a flash of scarlet. When the momentary blindness had left him, Lincoln was now staring at that same, seemingly innocent series of drawings, all of them now radiating an ominous crimson light.
"And that," Lucy concluded, quickly sterilizing her cut and slapping a band-aid atop it with practiced ease. "Is how you make a basic summoning circle."
...Lucy was a thing that was shaped exactly like itself.
"Lucy," Lincoln said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed in exasperation. "When I suggested we spend some quality time together, I kinda thought we'd like...marathon Vampires of Melancholia. Or maybe go to another one of those LARP parties the Mortician's Club hosts? I didn't think I'd enjoy it all that one time you dragged me to one, but I actually ended up having a lot of fun."
"We're boycotting the season of VOM," His sister spat, a flash of fury briefly visible beneath her bangs. "The very thought that Griselda would leave Edwin for Tristan of all people is sick and wrong. And not the good kind. And…"
Now it was her turn to let out a sigh.
"I've told you repeatedly that wasn't a LARP," Lucy said, shaking her head in annoyance. "Everything that happened that night was real."
Lincoln blinked in surprise. "But...Persephone said it'd be fun if we did that ceremony together—"
"—And you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself when she spent the rest of the night draped over you," His sister replied sharply. "You can be so naive, dear brother…"
"Regardless," She continued. "You wanted us to forge a bond between us that would endure even when, physically speaking, we are far apart—"
"—I don't think I actually said…"
"—It was heavily implied." She responded curtly. "And nothing brings people closer together than the dark arts. Something that you'll learn first-hand when Persephone decides to enforce that contract you signed…"
"That was a contract?"
"Anyway, now comes the fun part," His sister continued, rubbing her hands together. "Now that the circle is complete, we can begin the conjuring. Though, as enticing as this appears, I strongly advise you to refrain from engaging in any summoning rituals without the supervision of a professional dark arts practitioner, such as myself."
Lincoln took a look at the incredibly complex series of drawings that Lucy had spent the previous hour painstakingly drawing on her bedroom floor.
"...I think I'll be able to restrain myself," He said, dryly. "Somehow."
"Good," Said Lucy, as she began cracking her knuckles. "Now, the methodology I use is fairly simple. After you've given the circle power through the willing donation of your sanguis vitae—"
"Gesundheit."
"You simply raise your hands, like so, palms out," She continued, performing the described gesture. "And simply recite the incantation. Te invoco a profundus inferni!"
As she'd begun speaking, Lincoln opened his mouth, intending to inquire as to...well, any of the many red flags that the last couple of sentences had raised for him. But Lucy's completion of the surprisingly short incantation resulted in any words he would have spoken being cut off, as a loud ringing noise began to resound through the air. The sound continued to grow in intensity as the glow within the summoning circle began to follow suit, the ambient lighting in the room seemingly being swallowed up as the shimmering red glare seemingly took its place, spreading itself throughout the room. Light and sound soon reached a fever pitch, and let out a...a pulse, that Lincoln could swear he could feel reverberating inside him—
—and the circle responded by erupting into a gout of bright red flame, shooting from the ground to the ceiling like some sort of hellish geyser.
Lincoln responded, quite rationally in his mind, by letting out a squawk of alarm, leaping to his feet, and then stumbling backwards until he toppled onto Lucy's bed.
There was a moment of disorientation as Lincoln's panicked brain tried to process the fact that his feet were no longer on the ground and thus were incapable of locomotion. But before he could even begin trying to right himself, he realized that the sound had stopped. The sunlight streaming through the window (and right into his eyes) was the proper color once more. And, most important of all, his heart no longer felt like it was trying to leap out of his chest.
Lincoln took a breath, then shakily exhaled.
"H-holy...geez, Lucy," He wheezed, as he rocked forward and back, working up the momentum needed to sit up. "I didn't think...I mean, I wish you'd warned…"
As he spoke, he successfully managed to sit himself upright...and froze.
Because now, the circle was occupied…
Lincoln hadn't been certain as to exactly what he'd been expecting. He wasn't entirely as blasé as he'd been trying to come off. He'd seen Lucy perform legitimate feats of magic over the years, even seen her summon the occasional otherworldly being. But those were ghosts, or spirits of some kind, summonings that were performed with considerably less pomp and circumstance, and the results of which typically resulted in a mild, shenanigan-laden diversion before reality reasserted itself. This...this had been quite different so far.
Setting aside the harrowing ordeal that had been this new, unfamiliar ritual, the occupant of the summoning circle was no mere spirit, but a very corporeal-looking, short...red...thing?
He didn't really know how to describe it. It was like...a tiny person. But its skin was bright red, and it had a pair of very pronounced, curved horns protruding from its head. His first thought was that it brought to mind the devilish caricatures one might see in extremely aged cartoons, or on the occasional box of candy.
Though...it was also wearing a fairly mundane outfit consisting of a t-shirt and jeans, which somewhat muted its otherworldly presence just a smidge.
"Lucy…" Lincoln hissed, unable to take his eyes off the creature. "What is that?"
It was at this point that the creature seemingly gathered its bearings.
"H-HEY!" It shouted, its voice that of an adult man, which was decidedly at odds with the impression given by its small stature. "What the FUCK is this? Where am I?"
"It's called an Imp, dear brother," Lucy replied, now holding a large, voluminous tome in one hand, and a pen in the other, which she was using to scribble something into her book. "It's an extremely minor form of demon. Perhaps the most minor kind, which makes it perfect for a demonstration such as this."
Lincoln opened his mouth to reply, but as he did, his eyes met with those of their otherworldly visitor.
"Hey! Tall, pasty, and scraggly!" It shouted at him. "Did you do this? Get your ass over here, I'm gonna fucking—GAH!"
Its arm shot out as if it was intending to grab at him. Which, given the distance between them, and the general...stubbiness of the creature's limbs, seemed like an unlikely prospect. But as its hand reached the boundary of the circle, the lines encircling the creature flashed, and the creature's arm bounced off, crumpling inward as if it had slammed into a wall.
"My ARM!" It howled, cradling its now misshapen limb. "You broke my fucking arm!"
"Lucy!" Lincoln shouted, shooting a pleading glance at his sister…
...who proceeded to sigh and close her book.
"Very well," She said, setting the tome down on what used to be Lynn's bed. "I suppose now I can show you the dismissal procedure."
"All you have to do is take one thumb," She said, holding up one thumb as she knelt down next to the circle, completely indifferent to the entrapped demon, who was still cursing up a storm. "It should be the same one from which you made your earlier donation, incidentally. Place it down upon this cluster of symbols, and twist!"
The room immediately fell silent as the demon vanished. Not in a burst of sulfurous smoke, or in a gout of flame like it arrived in. It simply popped out of existence, with all the fanfare of deleting a word from one's word processor. Nevertheless, Lincoln stared at the now-empty space, thoroughly and completely gobsmacked.
"Pretty cool. Right?" Lucy asked, as she straightened up and quirked her lips upward into a faint smile.
"It was…" Lincoln searched for a word that properly conveyed the gravity of what he'd just experienced, but...didn't allude to the intestinal distress that had been gripping his bowels for these last few harrowing minutes.
"...impressive," Is what he ultimately settled on, before letting out a sigh of relief.
"I'm delighted to hear that," Lucy replied, her tone reflecting none of that. "Because by my estimation, this circle still has enough charge for one more summoning."
"Meaning…?" Lincoln asked, dreading that he already knew the answer.
"Meaning, that I think it's time you tried your hand at this," Lucy replied, her monotone voice lilting upward ever so slightly. Which was her equivalent of being absolutely giddy at the prospect.
One short period of intense debate later:
"Okay," Lincoln said, holding up one finger. "Just so we're clear on the terms here. I make one attempt at this. One. And then we go and watch a movie or something. Okay?"
"That's right," Lucy nodded. "Though you will be required to pay the penalty fee for breaching our original agreement."
"Riiiight, right," Lincoln sighed. "And what might that—"
"One thousand headpats."
"...Oh." Said Lincoln, blinking slowly at the girl, who by all indications seemed to be completely serious about the demand. "Yeeeeeah. Yeah, I think I can do that."
"Excellent," Lucy replied, as she grabbed Lincoln by the shoulders and guided him over to the circle. "Now then, just come over here. Watch your step, maintaining the integrity of the apparatus is literally a matter of life and death."
"Definitely love hearing that," Lincoln muttered. "You know, we could just skip this part and do the movie? I'll throw in another thousand."
To his surprise, Lucy momentarily froze.
"...No." She said, lightly shaking her head. "It's tempting, but...I'd much rather you do this."
Lincoln sighed in resignation. "Can I at least ask why this is so important?"
"Because this is part of who I am, and I want to share it with my beloved brother. You. Who are one of the people I consider to be most precious, in this realm or any that may lie beyond."
Lincoln was genuinely touched by the words. Buuuuut that didn't stop him from also feeling intensely suspicious.
"And?" He prompted.
Lucy's lips quirked upward. "And, on the off chance that the superstitions prove true, and my soul is already damned for dabbling in forbidden practices that were meant to remain beyond the reach of mortals...this way I ensure that I'll have someone I love to keep me company in the afterlife."
"...Someone other than Lisa, you mean," Lincoln added.
"Yes, someone other than Lisa," Lucy replied with an amused chuckle. "Now stand here—!"
Lincoln allowed himself to be moved to a particular part of the circle.
"And kneel down...good. And hold out your hands, just like I showed you...excellent. And now, speak the words."
Knowing it was pointless, Lincoln searched his memory.
"Uh…" He then jerked in surprise as an index card was shoved in front of his face.
"Don't worry, I wrote it down for you," Lucy said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Now, when you're ready."
"...Okay," Lincoln said, licking his suddenly dry lips as he tried to focus on the card in front of him.
"Um…T...teh? I-innnvv—"
"There's a pronunciation guide underneath."
"I'm using the pronunciation guide!" Lincoln protested. "How is your handwriting this terrible? You're a writer!"
"It's stylized! Now proceed!"
"Teh invohcoah ah…" Lincoln pushed on, tripping over the unfamiliar syllables as he tried to decipher Lucy's writing, his anxiety only growing as he noticed the symbols of the summoning circle begin to alight with that same, strange, ominous glow. "P-profffund...um…"
The circle began to glow with increased intensity, and Lucy's comforting grip suddenly became significantly less comforting.
"Lincoln," She growled into his ear. "It is suicidal to abandon an incantation that's only half done. Finish it already!"
"Your thumb is blocking the end!"
"Gah!" Lucy hissed, as she tried to adjust her grip on the card...only to fumble and drop it.
Two pairs of eyes watched as the small, rectangular piece of cardstock gracefully drifted away from them, presumably caught by an intensely inopportune breeze.
"That...can't be good," Lincoln muttered, as the circle's light changed to a far darker shade of crimson.
"Profundus inferni!" Lucy whispered into his ear, now shaking him by the shoulder. "Come on, Lincoln!"
"P-profundous...inf—!"
FWOOSH!
Again came the gout of flame, but this time there came an accompanying blast of physical force that sent Lincoln reeling backwards, until once again he found himself flat on his back.
...As he found himself staring at the ceiling against his will for the second time that day, Lincoln was surprised to find that he retained his full mental faculties. Whether it was due to adrenaline or because he was simply getting used to demonic summoning rituals and their accompanying pyrotechnics, he couldn't say. Nevertheless, he remained able enough to push himself off the ground and back into a seating position—
—at which point he let out a loud gasp, as he saw that once again, the circle was occupied.
"My, my…" Lucy murmured from her place at his side. "Brother dear, you are full of surprises."
"Lucy!" Lincoln hissed as he grabbed his sister by the arm. "That's not an imp!"
"It most definitely is not!" Lucy agreed. To Lincoln's surprise, the raven-haired girl had somehow gotten hold of her enormous book and was furiously scribbling inside of it. This time, he noted, with far more excitement than she'd had before.
There had been something...familiar about the imp. Its appearance resonated well enough with his deeply ingrained expectations of demonkind that, even though he hadn't known exactly what it was in the moment, there'd been some part of his brain that had confidently asserted, "Yeah, dawg, that's a demon." This one...he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
Before all else, his brain handily supplied that whatever else it may be, this being was definitely a girl. Though whether that was a hormonal response, or something more deeply seated, perhaps some benefit of growing up with 10 sisters, he couldn't say. He sincerely hoped it was the latter, though.
At first glance, it struck an imposing figure, being tall and predominantly darkly colored. A second brush determined that much of that was clothing (something that was turning out to be far more common among demonkind than he'd expected it would be), though they were possessed of mix of humanoid and avian features, which included large red eyes, a small, black beak set against a pale face, and a set of long, dark tail feathers that trailed behind her. Third brush noted the black beanie, cardigan, and high-heeled boots she was sporting, all of which were offset by a bright, pink...shirt? Or perhaps that was a very small dress of some kind? Honestly, it was difficult to tell from his current perspective.
...Fourth brush, he noted her slender frame. And in particular, the way it curved in various places, very much like a—
"Girl," His brain announced, dripping with smugness. Lincoln very much wanted his response to come in the form of a dope-slap to the face, but...couldn't see a way to accomplish that without unnecessarily hurting himself in the process.
"W-what?" Said the girl, drawing Lincoln's attention back to the matter at hand. "Where am I?"
Lincoln leaned closer to Lucy. "Do all of the demons you summon react like this?" He whispered to her.
"Pretty much," She said, not bothering to look up from her writing. "It's a perfectly natural response to being unceremoniously whisked away against your will."
Lincoln allowed a few seconds to pass, assuming there was some additional context forthcoming, but Lucy simply continued at her task.
"...Then why," He said, exasperated, do you keep—!"
"H-hey!"
Turning back to the demon girl, Lincoln was surprised and...to his chagrin, a little amused to see her with her arms spread out on either side as far as she could manage, seemingly pressing against a set of invisible walls. Combined with her coloration, it looked like she was making an attempt at Luan's "trapped in a box!" routine. Though…
...the look of abject terror on her face certainly put a damper on things.
"Let me out of here!" She cried. And, deciding enough was enough, Lincoln climbed to his feet and began to make his way towards her.
Or...at least, he started to, anyway…
"Uh, Luce?" He said, halting mid-stride as the girl's slender fingers suddenly alighted with purple flames.
"Fascinating," Was the only response his sister provided.
"I...said…" Growled the demon girl, as the flames fully engulfed her hands and began rapidly expanding. "LET...ME...OUT!"
Lincoln had only a split second to throw his hands up in front of his face and pray for the best before a thunderous explosion ripped through the air!
...or at least, the sound of one did, anyway.
Taking a moment to process the fact that his skin remained attached to his body, and neither it, nor any other part of his person, as far as he could tell, had suffered the slightest bit of harm, Lincoln slowly lowered his hands. Just as he was, Lucy's room remained remarkably intact and unharmed. Though the demon girl had now collapsed to her knees, head lowered, and with her arms wrapped around herself.
Lincoln turned to his sister, eyes wide with amazement.
"I told you, dear brother," Lucy said, snapping her book shut. "I'm a professional."
"Um, Miss?" Lincoln called out as he cautiously approached the summoning circle. "Are you...okay?"
He started in surprise as the girl's face swung towards him, glaring at him with an intensity that seemed likely to melt his innards.
"No, I'm not okay!" She shouted, looking considerably more...singed than she had been previously. "I just fucking blew myself up! What part of that seems 'okay' to you?"
Lincoln winced at the admonishment. Nevertheless…
"Well, maybe the part where we're still...having this conversation?" He ventured.
The girl neither replied nor changed her expression. Nevertheless, the unspoken, "How stupid are you?" was still quite clearly communicated.
"Please don't do that again," Lucy said as she stepped up alongside Lincoln. "For your own sake as much as ours. I don't like to brag, but I've won the coveted Best Warded Summoning Circle award at Goth-Stock for three years running. And as you've just handily demonstrated, my wards are quite strong."
"Summoning circle?" The girl asked, large, owlish eyes blinking in surprise as she glanced around, seemingly only just noticing the glowing symbols that surrounded her.
"You...summoned me?" She asked, looking at the siblings in disbelief. "Why?"
"Just spending some quality time with my brother," Lucy replied, taking one arm and looping it around Lincoln's.
The girl's mouth silently opened and then closed.
"Is she serious?" She asked, this time directing the question at Lincoln.
"In my defense…" He said, holding up the arm that wasn't currently being locked down by Lucy. "I suggested we watch a movie."
"...You people are lunatics," The girl groaned, shaking her head in exasperation. "Just my fucking luck. So what are you after? Money? Fame? The...the ruination of your enemies?"
"No, no," Lincoln protested, emphatically shaking his head. "Nothing like that. Right, Lucy?"
He turned to his sister...who was now frowning thoughtfully.
"Lucy!" He snapped.
"It's just...my gym teacher has been quite oppressive as of late. He's been making us run laps, Lincoln! Long ones!"
"Lucy! We aren't extorting this poor girl!"
"But Lincoln!" She pleaded. "You've inadvertently summoned an Ars Goetia! This is a huge opportunity!"
The demon girl's attention was now fully upon Lucy.
"H-how do you know that?" She asked, taking a step forward and wincing as she immediately bumped into her invisible prison. "Humans shouldn't know about us!"
"For the record, I have no idea what she's talking about," Lincoln interjected. "But...how do you know so much about this stuff, Lucy?"
By way of response, Lucy held up her book for his inspection. Lincoln squinted at the midnight-blue cover, trying to make sense of the writing on the front...only to reel backwards as if pushed by something. He shook his head as a very unpleasant sensation, like spiders crawling around in his brain, momentarily overtook him.
"Great Grandma Harriet left some very interesting things behind," Lucy said, as she tucked the book under her arm. "The Ars Goetia are something of a ruling class among demons. That means they're very powerful."
"Not powerful enough to avoid getting caught by a kid and her doofus brother," Muttered the demon girl, sighing in frustration. "Look, I'll level with you. I don't even know how to do any of that stuff."
Now it was Lucy's turn to look surprised.
"B-but…" She stammered, gesturing to her book. "You're...Ars Goetia."
"I'm seventeen years old! And...also…" The girl's head lowered, a splash of crimson appearing on her pale cheeks. "...my parents are rich, alright? I don't do the whole, Faustian bargain thing."
Lincoln sighed as Lucy's shoulders sank.
"Come on, Luce," He said, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her into a side hug. "You don't need a demon to bring ruination to your enemies. You're great at doing that all by yourself!"
"...I suppose," She muttered, resting her head against him. "It just would have been really cool to make a Faustian bargain. It's been on my bucket list for ages."
Lincoln winced. "Knowing you, you're going to have plenty more opportunities."
To his very, very mild surprise, this actually seemed to cheer up the younger girl.
"I suppose you're right."
"I'm uh...really happy for you," The demon girl interjected, sharply rapping on the invisible wall. "So then...any chance you could just send me back now?"
"Of course," Lincoln replied, before turning back to Lucy. "Right, Luce?"
"Wait wait wait…" Lucy protested as she began patting at her dress. "Ugh, where did I put my phone? I want to take a selfie first. Haiku's going to be so jealous—"
"Lucy!"
"Sigh. Fine." The younger girl muttered, rolling her eyes. "Just do what I showed you before, Lincoln."
"Err...right," He replied, getting down on his knees, before briefly glancing back at the demon girl. "Really sorry about this, by the way."
"Just send me back," She grumbled. "Please."
"Right, of course," Lincoln said, turning his attention back to the summoning circle. "So I take my...thumb. Right? And I put it...here?"
"Wrong cluster," Lucy replied. "The one to the left. More. No, your other left!"
"That was my other—!"
"There!" Lucy cut him off. "Right there. Just lower your thumb, just like that, and...twist!"
Lincoln followed her instruction, looked up expectantly, and...found that he was staring right into the crimson eyes of their impromptu prisoner.
"...Lucy?" He asked, trying to keep his voice level.
"Did you...ah...twist?" Came his sister's voice.
"Yes. I did."
"With your thumb. Right?"
"Yes, Lucy," Lincoln replied, anxiety lending an unintended edge to his words. "I am twisting my thumb!"
"...Huh." Came her only reply.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as Lincoln remained there on the ground, human and demon staring at each other as the seconds dragged on.
"Can you…" The girl said, sighing heavily. "Can you two at least let me out of here?"
"...Seems like the least we can do," Lincoln replied, glancing over his shoulder. "Lucy?"
"...I suppose."
A few minutes later, the three teens were sitting in a semi-circle on the floor, the only sounds to be heard were those of Lucy rifling through the pages of her book.
"My name is Octavia," The demon girl said at last, as she leaned against Lucy's nightstand. "Which I'm only telling you because I want it to be on your conscience!"
She frowned thoughtfully.
"Do...humans have consciences?" She added, a moment later. "Or some...equivalent thing that makes you feel bad when you kidnap people for no reason?"
"I...think Lisa was actually able to prove that, in truth, there was no such thing," Lincoln replied. "But don't worry. Uh...Octavia? Because Lucy is an expert at this stuff, and—"
"Yeeeeeah," Lucy interjected, slamming her book shut. "I've got nothing."
A beat of silence ensued...before Octavia's hands were once more engulfed by purple flames, causing Lincoln to let out a Homerian cry of alarm as he frantically scrambled in the opposite direction.
"Calm down," Lucy admonished the demon girl. "I just mean I can't find anything in this book. My great-grandmother left a fairly extensive library behind. I'm sure I can find something in it."
"...Fine," Octavia grumbled, extinguishing her flames.
"Lincoln, would you mind?" Lucy asked. "I left them in your old room. They're in a box labeled 'Keep sealed, for the sake of your sanity!'"
"...And you still o—you know what? Never mind," Lincoln said, sighing as he climbed to his feet. "Sure, I'll be right back."
Honestly, he was grateful for both the distraction and the excuse to leave the room. They had pretty unambiguously wronged the demon girl, and that knowledge made it more than a little uncomfortable to be in the same room as her. So it came as something of a relief when he was able to venture out in the hallway and feel his soul become just a little less burdened by the crushing guilt he was feeling.
...A feeling which lasted for several, good, long...ssssseconds! Before he became acutely aware of the staccato of footsteps rapidly approaching him from behind. He managed to turn around just in time to catch sight of an equally bewildered Octavia moments before she slammed into him, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.
The next thing Lincoln knew, he was staring up...not into the ceiling this time, but rather into that same wide-eyed face, now only inches away from his own.
There was a moment where it felt like there was a certain sort of...cosmic humor to the series of events that had just transpired. Sadly, it was a very short-lived moment.
"H-hey!" Octavia squawked, her face turning scarlet as she scrambled for a handhold. "Get the hell off me, you freak!"
"You're the one on top of me!" Lincoln growled, wincing as the back of his skull began to throb with pain. "You get off!"
"T-those are just...details!" Octavia stammered. Nevertheless, she was, with some difficulty, able to elevate herself sufficiently as to allow Lincoln to crawl out from under her. The pair then proceeded to warily climb to their feet.
"What was that?" Lincoln demanded as he slowly edged away from the girl. "Why'd you charge me like that?"
"I didn't! Honest! I was...I was just—"
"Interesting," A voice interjected, causing both teens to yelp in surprise as Lucy seemingly appeared between them.
"Lucy!" Lincoln hissed. "You promised you'd stop—!"
"Forget that for the moment," Lucy said, cutting him off. "And look at this."
"H-hey!" Octavia protested as Lucy grabbed her by the waist and began pushing her back into the room.
"Lincoln!" Lucy called over her shoulder. "You should probably hold onto something."
"Hold onto…" Lincoln repeated, blinking in befuddlement. "Why would I—GAH!"
Suddenly, he found himself being jerked forward by some invisible force. Instinctively, his hands shot out and grabbed the nearest thing: the doorframe to Lucy's room. Which was sufficient to arrest his movement, albeit just barely.
And it was at this moment, while frantically clinging to his sister's doorframe, that he noticed a strange, pale chain that seemed to be protruding from him. He followed it with his eyes and saw that it was connected to a collar that was fastened around Octavia's neck. Lucy ceased her pushing, and immediately the chain vanished, but from the expression on Octavia's face, he could tell that she had seen it too.
"Lucy?" Lincoln asked, eyes wide with disbelief. "What the heck was that?"
"That," Lucy replied with a sigh. "Suggests that our problem is...significantly more complicated than I'd originally thought."
"So now what do we do?" Octavia asked, her voice shrill with panic.
The two siblings exchanged glances.
"Well, seeing as it's getting kind of late…" Lincoln said, gesturing to the setting sun that could be seen through Lucy's window. "Would you...like to stay for dinner?"
Octavia looked from one sibling to the next before throwing up her hands and letting out a long, aggravated sigh.
"I mean...yeah," She said, as she drooped forward, her shoulders sagging. "I guess."