signed_sabrina | (no subject)

Sabrina Spellman is turning seventeen tonight.

Honestly, in the time since her sixteenth birthday, she's seriously doubted that she would make it to this day-- and certainly doubted that she would be free from the Path of Night and the Path of Night, able to do as she pleases. She's not sure she can say she expected anything that's happened to her over the year, really, not a single thing.

But standing outside the warehouse Kavinsky has thoughtfully offered for her use, in a somewhat accurate Halloween costume, she's absolutely happier than she ever foresaw. Where she'd been worried about losing her boyfriend and best friends, she's got three people she loves so much she can hardly stand it, in entirely different ways. Where she'd had a ghost or worse for a father, she has a dad who knows who she is, her capabilities, and loves her only for being herself. She misses her aunts and Ambrose, but knowing that she's still back with them is of great comfort. She can't say she's doing much better on the high school front, but she's not sure she cares.

Enough people seem fascinated by the sex cult rumors that when she and Salem had littered both high school campuses, Sabrina had got plenty of takers. The party itself will start soon, and Sabrina looks up, comforted by the lack of full moon. Taking her broom, she carefully sweeps each step clean, feeling the ritual settle her. The warehouse inside looks a lot like a clearing in the woods, complete with bonfire, and if the punch is spiked, well-- it is a high school party.

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Rowan does consider that he is leaving Citra to her own devices, maybe for too long. She's an independent woman who knows what she's doing, but this is a Magnus Bane party after all, and Halloween to boot. Who knows what could happen?

He nearly says as much when Rosie continues, blushing, to make mention of that sex cult thing. So Rowan changes tacks.

"Yeah, I'd heard about that," he says with a lightly amused tone. "If that's not what's going on, and I believe, how'd they get that impression? Or is this just high school bullshit?"

Because it's entirely possible that it is pure and complete bullshit.

Depending on what his reaction was, Rosie had been ready to blame her mention of it on the glasses of punch she'd already drunk, if need be. But rather than teasing or offense, there's only a mild and seemingly nonjudgemental curiosity, enough to ease the faint tension that had settled in her chest as she'd waited to hear what he'd say.

"Mostly high school bullshit," she says, smiling at how awkwardly the last word comes out, unused as she is to swearing. "It's just that...well, honestly, it's just that Sabrina's dating both Nick and Charlie, and then I'm dating Nick as well, and Sabrina and Charlie are my best friends, so it's all a bit of a tangle." Carefully, she leaves out any mention of the deeper connection that's formed between her and Sabrina; not only was it new, and different, Rosie wasn't even sure what she ought to call it--something more than friendship, perhaps, but what, she doesn't know.

"All of us know, and nobody's sneaking around behind anyone's back or anything, but I suppose from the outside it looks more like some kind of funny business than anything else."

"Oh," Rowan says with a mild frown. That doesn't seem like a sex cult at all, just complete and utter high school bullshit.

His mouth tightens then in displeasure, because he really wants to beat some kids down, but he knows that would be a bad choice.

"I guess it's easy for me," he says, feeling like he has to say something more than oh to reassure Rosie. "Back home, you know, living forever... everyone got divorced. Everyone got remarried. Everyone had a boyfriend who looked twenty years younger or a brother that could have been your father. All relationships got a bit tangled." He frowns again.

"As long as everyone's being honest and open, and I mean with each other, then what does it matter?"

Though, he does add, thinking about it... "If any of them do mess with you though, I will make them regret it."

Rowan says back home and some small and silly instinct deep within her half-braces for one of their old arguments. This isn't that, and she knows it, so it's easy to let the feeling go as quickly as it had occurred and focus instead on what he's saying. In a way, it made an awful lot of sense--unromantic, maybe, but sensible.

"Exactly," she agrees, unsurprised but glad to find he's so readily on her side. "It's not what I might have expected, when I thought about being involved in any kind of romance, but now that it's happening...it really shouldn't matter what anyone but the four of us think about it." The promise--or threat, or both--that follows his question only makes her grin all the more broadly. "It's a talent, making that sound so gallant, even when you're dressed like that."

Rowan grins easily, and in a rather gallant, dashing fashion, and rolls his shoulders in a shrug. He straightens the bright red tie decorated with hamburgers around his neck.

"I have lots of talents," he says in a joking, feigned serious manner. "You haven't even scratched the surface."

But seriously, there would be much pain in store for any of the trio that currently held Rosie's heart in their hands should it be hurt.