Who knew the madness that would be unleashed by the fervent mental renderings of three children! Mayhem, certainly, he would've known, but chaos that he was, he spoke no word of it, except for tiny whispers into Mischief's ear. Oh, and that boded ill for anyone outside their sacred circle of three for she was ever protective of her brothers. Yes, brothers. Though Mayhem was the eldest and leader for all intents and purposes, Magick was the youngest by just over a decade, still forming words on lips wet with drool that longed for teeth. And so it was that Mischief remained firmly ensconced between them both.
They lived in a house with Mother and the Mister, as Mischief so adoringly referred to her stepfather, while Father wandered around securing world peace with his wand. It was a nice enough abode, each child to a room, the parental units in their own space. Even Mop, their mystical Shih Tzu, had his own corner. It was here that most of their adventures began.