The ocelot's forked tail flicked through the air as she stopped in front of the gate. Eriocalyx, her saltwater crocodile pet, walked behind her -- he pulled a basic wheeled cart behind him, filled to the brim with various books and her healing supplies. When she left, she anticipated to stay in her coven permanently; after all, she felt more comfortable around her telepathic family members, building her knowledge base and expanding her craft alongside her blood relatives. But word continued to reach her of how the Typhoon fared. That Pincher got himself near-mortally injured. That Goldie went missing and ended up captured, tortured. That people continued injuring themselves in the damned stupidest of ways.

She loved her coven, her family. But the Typhoon needed her too -- and they were her family too, even if only a few carried the Roux name.

She sighed, glancing at Eri as she settled her gaze on the gate's bell. It rang quickly, moving back and forth quickly, though she hadn't moved a muscle. "Hello, I'm moving back in," she called out, her voice dry and airy.

© MADI

Some faces just stick to him. Although he has a habit of forgetting people, sometimes there were the faces he just couldn't forget. Rosemary was one of those faces. He knew the soothsayer as the one who was always there to patch up wounds, always first, and always asking one of The Typhoon's many fire benders to cauterize the injuries. It made him feel useful for once, but it also made him realise that the irony of the island having so many fire elementalists considering they were surrounded by water. To see the four-eyed fem at the gate, ringing the bell, relieved the tension in his paws, casting away the usual anger and annoyance he would feel whenever a foreigner arrived to grasp their attention. Such a bell only needed to be rung once. There its sounds, its clangs, will echo effortlessly along. Bakugou never really liked the strangers who were impatient because it was as if they were more important than the ones who actually owned and lived on the island. He would rather be treated with respect, a sense of equality, but even within this world he would see none directed towards him. It was Bakugou who needed to change.

"Rosemary," he breathes, flicking an ear when he is beaten out by Cronas. His eyes float over their figure before staring painfully at Goldenluxury, cheeks feeling hot in an agonised frustration. He isn't happy with her current state, the fact that the Dealer had lost her memories. She doesn't remember him and he wonders if he should give up. Just when he thought someone was fine with him, accepting of his awful and socially difficult personality, she had lost her memories. She forgot about him. Now it seemed like everyone was meant to dislike him, outcast him as the runt. The world wasn't fair. It was punishing him for being alive and it felt like every moment was making him suffocate. He can't handle this. He doesn't like it. "Why'd you leave in the first place?" The Reaver has always had a love-hate relationship with change. He preferred the kind of changes that benefitted him, the ones that meant he had moved on from his lowly place in the world. But beside from that, he hates it when things become different. He would rather the universe were static. If it was, Goldenluxury would never have forgotten him, Rosemary would never have left.

He remembers the influx of medics they used to have, the plethora of black mambas ready and at hand for whenever they were injured. He used to think it was ridiculous until they eventually dwindled to two. His sanguine eyes flicker towards Rosemary's saltwater crocodile, furrowing his brows. "Did ya always have that?" His talkative and less explosive nature was actually Bakugou trying his absolute hardest not to think, not to look at the bengal they called Goldenluxury. Every time his eyes landed on her frail figure, dismay would appear along his cream face. She forgot about him, she really forgot about him. And here he was thinking he was memorable, that his awful personality couldn't have just been wiped clean. He should...he should be someone else for her, someone who wasn't him. Maybe she'll view him in a better light but he doesn't want to lie. He can't lie. He is who he is but how can he let her accept him again? It was a fluke, something that had occurred by chance. It won't happen again, would it? Bakugou bites the bottom of his lip. He'll just have to remind her of him but, that in itself, was difficult.

The ragdoll can't help but release a defeated sigh. "Bakugou - if you forgot," the male reintroduces himself, figuring he hadn't had enough run-ins with Rosemary to even be remembered by her. Regardless, he appreciates seeing an old face return. "I'm a Reaver now." A useless addition of information considering Bakugou never really walked around parading and announcing his rank. He never really introduced himself with his position within The Typhoon because most of the time he was a walking embarrassment to the island with his very unpolitical personality. He simply wasn't civilised enough to be a high position but here he was, a Reaver. He was only attaching the information to signal Rosemary just how long she had been gone for. She had, after all, once been their head Soothsayer.

© LEXASPERATED

Her ears flicked back as a multitude of people came out to greet her -- wonderful, she hated crowds in the best of time, and now she stood here as their absolute center of attention. As her niece approached, she started to move towards the dealer, only to pause mid-step as Goldie failed to recognize her. She felt her heart shatter inside her, even as all four of her umber-orange eyes hardened. Her eyelids fluttered before she rolled her jaw and looked away from the girl, anger pulsing rhythmically in her mind with a powerful thump that beat against her icy exterior.

"I am Rosemary. Rosemary Roux," she said, adding onto Cronas's explanation with a sharp pronunciation of her last name. She didn't care that the rumors of her niece's injury were true. She cared that her niece didn't remember her. That nobody bothered to teach her niece Rosemary's name -- except for damn Officer Ceasar's last minute correction. That her family here thought so little of her, as for the only one to greet her at the border being the amnesiac. The amnesiac nobody bothered to teach about her absentee aunt. Family was everything to the witch -- she came out of her coven, to help after she heard of their problems with the Pitt -- and now she felt smacked in the face.

But she forced herself to relax, though her shoulders remained tense and the anger continued to beat inside the walls she erected around it. "Good to meet you, Victor and Latterday. As for everyone else... of course I remember you," she added, her soft voice stiff -- even by her emotionless standards. She felt too shaken by Goldie... to really address Caesar's wink or other bits of irritation that might've bothered her under more normal circumstances.

Turning to Baku, she replied, "My grandmother died. I went home to help my family with the arrangements." That seemed a simple enough way to explain the succession crisis in her coven; they didn't need to know the strange practices of her all-female family.

© MADI