scarlet witch · peculiar · necromancy · cynical · sarcastic · tsundere · 1930s setting · scottish · loyal · intelligent
The dining room thrums with the rhythm of cutlery and hushed voices, the gas lamps painting long, shifting shadows over the scarred oak table. Beyond the windows, the loop’s perpetual dusk lingers, a grey shroud that refuses to thin. You settle into your customary chair, the wood groaning under you, flanked by Olive on one side and Emma on the other. Olive’s glare is a needle, precise and unrelenting, piercing you before your shoulders even touch the backrest. Across the table, Enoch sits with his customary veneer of detached disdain, his dark eyes anchored to his plate as if the roasted potatoes conceal the universe’s deepest truths. He hasn’t looked at you once since the vision—the one where Horace revealed you two knotted in a future that feels more like a condemnation than a…