This healed something in my Terzo widow heart 🥹🖤

You and Copia host a quiet séance to honor the dearly departed… and end up moderating a centuries-old Papa family reunion full of gossip, glitter, and unholy bickering. 🕯️🖤

You had thought a “quiet night of spiritual communion” sounded quite cozy.

Copia’s exact words to you beforehand had been:

“Just a few candles, Si? Maybe a little Hello! to the departed. No reason to panic!”

You absolutely should have known better the moment he said there was no reason to panic.

The incense are perfect, the gramophone is humming softly in the background, and Copia is nervously smoothing his hand down the front of his vestments like a man trying to impress new company.

After some words chanted in Latin, the candles scattered about begin to flicker and the circle of chalk hums with energy.

“Ahem! If there are eh- any friendly spirits listening…we…welcome your company tonight.”

The room grows eerily quiet for a moment, until the gramophone screeches to a stop, the candles snuff out and the chalk circle flashes with golden light. But then-

“Miei Cari!”

Papa Terzo bursts into being like the cork of a champagne bottle- swirling velvet and mischief, as he dramatically leans against a nearby table eyeing you up and down.

“You called me, Si? Oh how I’ve missed the living…especially the most beautiful ones.” He winks at you.

Copia’s jaw all but falls on the floor in utter shock.

“Terzo, you’re- you’re supposed to…to be…”

“What? Dead? Retired? Fashionably ghostly?” Terzo dramatically waves his hand in the air unbothered. “All true, amore.” Grinning widely at you, eyes zeroing in on you he all but purrs “and who is this enchanting mortal you’ve brought along with you, hm? You look like sin wrapped in candlelight-“

“TERZO!” Copia all but squeaks out, scandalized. “We are in the middle of a ritual!”

“Hey! You called me! You get what you get.” Terzo brushes the collar of his suit jacket as if to flick imaginary dust from it. “Honestly…I expected snacks.”

Before you can recover or respond, another voice rolls in like thunder during a storm.

“You’re already talking too much!”

Secondo manifests beside him, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Looking as unimpressed in death as he did in life.

“Every time the veil opens, you rush in first and make a spectacle.”

Terzo gasps dramatically, clutching his chest.

“Spectacle?! I AM the spectacle!”

“You’re the headache.” Secondo retorts.

“You’re both impossible.” Copia groans. “It has not even been a minute, and the arguing has already started, hm?!”

“I was flirting, actually. Quite successfully.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but giggle.

“Same thing.” Secondo deadpans, unamused by his brother.

“Aha!” A triumphant saxophone riff cuts through the air. “Did somebody say ‘arguing’?”

In a cloud of glitter and chaos, Papa Nihil phases through the door, holding his saxophone like a weapon of pure distraction.

“Boys, Boys, Boys! Your dear old Papa has arrived! I hope you left me a seat. Preferably next to the pretty one.” He winks directly at you.

You blink a few times. “Do all of you flirt with the living?”

Terzo smiles at you so very sweetly.

“Only the prettiest ones.”

Secondo groans, face palming,

“Kill me again.”

You’re already dead, tesoro!” Terzo cheerfully quips back at him.

A swirl of warm gold fills the room and suddenly Primo appears with an air of authority, but serenely.

“Children. Must we all begin with chaos?” Sighing, he glanced around at the mess of them all. “You’ve barely just arrived.”

Terzo dramatically gestures to himself.

“I arrived magnificently!”

“You appeared like a fog machine at a wedding.” Secondo quips.

Copia pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Please…PLEASE can we have some reverence here, eh? This is supposed to be spiritual…you know?”

“It’s very spirtual!” Terzo states outright. “I am experiencing the Holy Spirit of fashion as we speak!”

“You look like a curtain.” Secondo immediately fires back.

“Better than looking like a tax auditor!” Terzo snaps.

Primo sighs loudly. “Peace! Rilassate i bambini! We are here to reconnect with one another, not insult each other.”

“Reconnecting IS insulting each other!” Nihil chimes loudly. “Traditions!”

The séance somehow dissolves into an absurd abbey wide gossip circle. You pour tea for yourself- the ghosts claim they can “taste the vibe” and refuse your offer that was mostly out of politeness. Copia keeps trying to redirect them all, to no avail.

“Ehm. Perhaps we can talk about how things have been in the afterlife?”

“Boring.” Terzo says without missing a beat. “No wine, no concerts and the ghouls keep trying to start up poker nights.”

“You cheat anyway!” Secondo flat out accuses.

“I win creatively.” Terzo huffs.

“You’re insufferable!”

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave, fratellino, you’re bound by candlelight and the circle! Ah, the romance!”

Secondos glare was enough to kill- for a second time.

Nihil sits, propping his feet on a table. “I heard from a wandering ghoul that one of the new clergy accidentally set fire to the ministry confessional.”

Copia freezes up. “Wait wha- how- how did you- who told you that?!?!”

“The dead talk.” Nihil grins widely. “They gossip better than the living do!”

“That’s true!” Primo hums in amusement. “They still talk about the great laundry incident!”

“Oh for satan’s sake-“ Secondo groans pressing his fingers to his temples and rubbing. “Not this again!”

Terzo immediately perks up. “Ah, yes. When someone turned all the vestments bright pink-“

“You did that!” Secondo shouts in pure annoyance.

“I did it for Morale!”

“You did it because you spilled your entire bottle of wine!”

“Well, morale was low!”

“Morale is always low when you’re around!”

“Oh, look who’s talking- Mr. Eternal Frown!!!”

“That’s enough!!” Copia bursts out. “This is not how you honor the dead!”

“You’re right.” Nihil quips back. “We need snacks.”

By the time you and Copia manage to light more candles, a heated debate has begun about who had the best era of the band.

“Mine, obviously!” Nihil says with conviction. “People actually screamed for me!”

“Yeah because you fell off the stage constantly!” Secondo tuts.

“Showmanship!” Nihil argues in protest.

Primo chuckles at the spectacle. “I preferred peace and music.”

Terzo throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. “Peace does not sell albums or win Grammys, nonno!”

Copia covers his face with both hands and states, muffled “I cannot believe this!”

You lean towards him and whisper “I can’t believe you thought it WOULDN’T go like this.”

When the arguing and laughter finally dies down, Primo speaks again voice soft and low.

“Despite all of the chaos…it is good to see everyone again.”

Even Secondo nods his head, reluctantly.

Nihil pats his son’s shoulder, his hand passing right through- although it’s the thought that counts.

Terzo smiles, catching your eye as he always does. “Admit it, cara mia. This is the best séance you have ever had.”

You giggle “It’s the only séance I’ve ever had!”

“Then we’ve set the bar very high.” He winks at you playfully.

Copia takes a deep breath and exhales, shoulders relaxing. “ Alright, alright. Maybe it was nice. A little.”

“Only a little?!” Nihil snorts. “We’re delightful!”

“Loud.” Secondo mutters.

Terzo makes eyes at you again. “Don’t worry, Bella. I’ll see you in your dreams.” He winks and blows you a kiss.

“TERZO!!!” Secondo roars while Nihil is howling with laughter.

“Still got it, eh?” He nudges Terzo in the side. “Even the grave can’t keep the charm down.”

You can’t help but laugh- it’s practically impossible not to. Even Copia cracks a smile reluctantly.

Primo lifts his imaginary cup up. “To the living and the departed- may we always find each other when the veil grows thin.”

Everyone raises their imaginary glasses, and you with your real glass of tea. Terzo’s glass passes through yours, but the warm feeling of his hand passing through yours, lingers on.

“And to gossip.” He toasts slyly. “For keeping eternity interesting.” He points his non-existent drink in the air.

Copia groans.

You giggle.

And the Abbey fills with bickering, laughter and a saxophone riff absolutely no one asked for.

Nothing says Halloween like a glitter-coated saxophone and a Papa who refuses to use less glue. 🎃✨🎷

It’s arts and crafts day at the Abbey, and Papa Nihil takes the assignment way too seriously. Between the ghouls’ chaos and an alarming amount of glitter, one thing becomes clear — Halloween will shine brighter (and jazzier) than ever before.

The abbey has not seen this much chaos since the time at a ritual when Papa Nihil tried to fully resurrect disco music. Jumpsuit and all.

Tables are lining the abbey with every kind of crafting item known to man- paper pumpkins, glue sticks, and bowls of glitter and sequins that are absolutely not meant to be dumped on the floor adorn the tables as well.

The ghouls are literally buzzing with excitement, tails twitching as they paint paper pumpkins with ghosts and bats- all while you were simply trying to keep the glitter contained to one surface.

Then in walks Nihil.

Entering like a man on a mission, robes paint splattered, he declares loudly “Ah! My little artists of the afterlife!” His black sunglasses are already speckled with orange glitter, proving he has already been at this MUCH longer than the official beginning of arts and crafts time.

You watch him closely as he rummages through all the supplies on the table. In a huff he mutters “Where is the gold? The sparkle? Halloween must shine like the devil’s own personal stage lighting.”

After a few minutes he finds a cardboard tube, a small plastic funnel and some gold ribbon- and you immediately know you are all in big trouble.

Within just a few short minutes he has crafted a saxophone- or well, what technically could be called a saxophone. Solely holding together with glue, ribbon and hopes and dreams. When he holds it up to survey his own work, it droops to the left slightly deflated.

“It needs soul.” He declares gravely.

Within seconds, he grabs a jar of glitter and dumps the ENTIRETY of it on to his masterpiece.

Glitter explodes into the air like a demonic cloud, driving you and everyone else, but the ghouls and Papa Nihil, into a coughing fit. Everything within a 5 foot radius is now covered in gold.

When the air clears, Nihil stands triumphantly holding up his sparkly (and barely in tact) masterpiece.

“Behold!” He announces with pride. “The spirit of Halloween- reborn through Jazz!”

The ghouls all applaud enthusiastically. One ghoul even tries to play it.

It immediately crumples up.

Papa Nihil just nods and solemnly states “Art is pain.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon sweeping and cleaning up glitter that somehow kept reappearing no matter how many times you cleared it all away. Nihil swore when nighttime fell on the abbey and the moon was full, the saxophone actually played itself.

You did not really believe him until later you heard the faintest jazziest notes echoing through the Abbey halls long after midnight.