((This is gonna be a long one... Note: Green/light green: Carmen. Red/brown: Carla. Black: both.))


"There's going to be a party."

Carmen fiddled with the flyer in her hand, fingers smoothing out the corners and ignoring the few holes poked into it. The piece of paper had flown directly at her head, the wind twisting it and carrying it in a trajectory perfectly aimed for her face - if it weren't for her quick reflexes it would have landed on target. Needless to say she wasn't particularly happy with it and may or may not've crunched it into a tight ball, throwing it on the ground and crushing it with her foot before picking it back up and reading it.

The two of them had moved into the diner after the wind had grown too annoying. It was thankfully mostly free of customers, the majority of people had likely decided not to venture out into the rapidly changing weather. The sky was clouded over and cast the town in a dull light, the colours plastered everywhere seeming muted with the greyness.

"So?"

Nails bit into her long-sleeved shirt, annoyance physically manifesting. Clara found herself becoming more and more annoyed with her twin lately, everything she did grating a nerve that the redhead didn't know she had. Every time her sibling spoke, every decision she made, every single little habitual movement agitated her to no end.

Clara wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that they were fated to hate each other based on species, or if this had been building up for years and only now did she have a real reason to express it, to put a reason behind her anger.

Carmen rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. Her sister was supposed to be the smart one of the two - didn't she understand that this was an opportunity for a 'Greet and Eat'? They'd be surrounded by humans and 'wolves and witches and vamps alike. It was a perfect excuse; pretend to be drunk, catch the eye of their prey and, when the other makes their move, they strike. It'd be way easier than having to stalk each individual separately, waiting weeks or even months between each feeding.

Well, more of a feeding for her. Therapy for me.

She told her twin the plan, gesticulating. Arms flailed in a controlled manner, giving the illusion of a spazzy young woman. This was normalcy - in doing such a human action it gave the others the impression that they were human, even with her sister's attire.

Never mind the fact that the hair-tie Carla used allowed her to walk around in sunlight, the only things missing from her outfit was a pair of gloves and a large-brimmed hat. The hair-tie was a useful trinket that her sister had managed to procure by convincing a weak-willed witch into making it for her on pain of death. She killed him anyway.

The door opened, bringing with it the scent of fresh air and - human. The two turned in their seats, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever had made the trek to the diner. It was a blonde woman, rather pretty, asking to be seated by the waitress. She ordered greasy food and hot chocolate before typing rapidly on her phone, likely sending a text to a close friend. The booth she had chosen was directly beside the window which she was now looking out, likely waiting for whoever she had just contacted.

"She smells delicious..."

Clara was gripping her arms tighter now, though this time out of restraint and not agitation.

Carmen nodded. The two were in agreement, something that rarely happened. They shared a glance - Clara's teeth were poking out, resting on her bottom lip, eyes dilated to the point where there was barely a sliver of the iris showing.

"Not in the diner, sis."

The hair's on the back of Clara's neck stood to attention, bristling with the force of her desire to just glide over to the woman, bend her neck, and bleed her dry until she was left looking like one of the mummies in a museum exhibit. Her sister had a point though. They couldn't reveal themselves in such an open setting, nothing to hide behind, no shadows to melt into.

It wasn't long before the blonde was joined by a raven-haired woman who was crackling with energy. A witch - that could spell trouble for the twins. Subtly they kept their attention on the pair, listening in to their ensuing conversation, sharing a sharp glance at the mention of an old witch's diary. Both kept their thoughts to themselves but had the same idea - old magic was powerful magic. Neither voiced the plot writing itself in their mind.

A long time had passed before the pair left, two heads disappearing from the diner and away from the building.

"She's going to be at the party."

"Yeah."

Another look was shared between the two, the silent declaration of a competition passing among them. The blonde - Becca, the witch had called her - would be the prize, her tender flesh the reward for whomsoever got her alone first. Without a word spoken the two agreed to attend the party and, with a few bills thrown down on the table, left the diner in order to prepare.

It was going to be an interesting night after all.