[ for her own part, hecate's reaction is readable in an entirely different direction. it's a bit simpler than john's, though no less storied for its simplicity: a beautiful moment of noncomprehension, followed by the exact moment where her soul leaves her body from regret. if fuckups powered necromancy, the thalergic emission here would be stunning.

hecate breathes in. her back straightens; her calves tense in that all-too-familiar stance. and finally, she speaks in the clearest tones she can muster. ]

"From the Ash I Rise Je Veux Te Revanche I'm Beggin' of You Please Don't Take My Man." Yeah. It's a mouthful. [ she looks like she wants to die, a little. from her faux pas? from her name? perhaps it's both! ] So, uh. "John." I'm guessing you don't have a second, kind of garbage name?

[ oh, man. if she doesn't get eviscerated by some necromancy bullshit, she is absolutely going to get torn apart by coronabeth. ]