[RP] Witches of Aether

[OOC: We all seem to be berating ourselves for our imagined lack of poast quality :lew:
I'll try and do something for Rosaline tomorrow...not really in the mood tonight, and since she doesn't have any urgent appointments...]

Poppy leaned forward as the girl started talking again, her ear almost touching her lips. What she heard did not please her. “Don’t be silly.” Poppy scolded her, tapping her lightly on the nose again, careful to keep the amusement out of her voice. She wasn’t even close to dying, although it probably felt like it: she was just being melodramatic about it. Having killed her fair share of people, Poppy knew death when she saw it. But it seemed as though Poppy was having an effect on her after all…her attention was probably adding to whatever emotional turmoil she was already going through…

…then it clicked: she was sorry that she had caused so much destruction! Poppy’s spirits fell. So, that had all been an accident? She was feeling regretful that she had taken so many lives? Her hand stopped stroking the girl’s hair as she considered this. It might be better to just snap her neck here and take her powers for herself. But from this angle, she was just so adorable, all sad and vulnerable, absolutely helpless to resist whatever Poppy might wish to do to her…no, she could still have fun with her, she decided, albeit of a different kind. It’d take a little more effort, but it’d ultimately be far more satisfying. She resumed stroking her hair contentedly, ignoring her protests. Carefully, she began drying her clothes, directing the water to collect and drip down her sleeve. Poppy liked being wet, but she knew that other people didn’t share her preference…and, with the wind still quite strong, she was probably very cold.

“You’re not dying, silly. You’re just a little broken.” She said, perhaps a little more firmly than she had intended. “Everyone gets upset sometimes, even special people. Hush. Poppy will make everything better again.” She kissed the girl’s forehead, careful not to tamper with her any more than what she already had; she was already a mess, Poppy would only add to that if she tried to make her feel things. Besides, it had been a long time since she had tried getting someone to do what she wanted without making them do it; perhaps it’d be more fun this way…at least to a point. There were some things Poppy could do with her that would be much more enjoyable if she just tweaked her reactions a little…but this was hardly the time or place.

The other girl stood up then, wobbling uncertainly. If the bloodstain on her charred stocking was any indication, her knee was injured. She seemed to be alright standing up, though…but if she had been burned, it probably hurt. “Oh, hello. Would you like Poppy to fix you, too?” she asked brightly. She was so tiny! Smaller even than Poppy herself! Most girls started to get taller once they hit a certain age; it wasn’t often Poppy found someone smaller than herself, one that just didn't want to grow up, like she hadn't. She wondered if she could perhaps take this one home…

“You’re evil.” The girl – Lil, had she been called? Lillian, perhaps, or Lily? Both names were quite pretty, she thought - breathed, shaking with anger. She was speaking to the girl that Poppy cradled, trying as hard as she could to pretend Poppy wasn’t there. Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it? “All this time, all you wanted from me was my power, wasn’t it? You were just using me! Just like Alyss did! All that stuff about how hard your life had been, about how you cared, about the things that made you human – EVERYTHING YOU TOLD ME – it was all a lie! ALL YOU’VE DONE IS LIE TO ME!” she screeched, and Poppy stopped stroking the girl’s hair to cover her ears. She was so loud! How could someone so tiny be so loud?

“You even attacked-“ she choked, raising her hands. Poppy studied her carefully; this one was definitely more than a little broken. She was close to a complete breakdown. What was her problem? “You’re a monster. MONSTER!” she shrieked it again for emphasis, leaning forward as if to throw herself at the girl. Poppy met the girl’s eyes then, stopping her with a look. She couldn’t influence her without influencing the girl in her lap as well, but it seemed she got the message. She took a step back, the urge seeming to vanish…or at least contained.

“Don’t be so nasty.” Poppy told her, her eyes returning to the girl in her lap, who didn’t seem to be taking the girl’s words very well. “I don’t like nasty people, so there.” She stuck her tongue out at the girl, inwardly de-lighting at her reaction – one of incredulity and fear, she didn’t seem to be able to decide which. It was difficult enough for Poppy to keep her toy calm as it was, the last thing she needed was this emotional wreck making life that much harder.

“D-don’t think I’ll let you k-kill me.” She said to Poppy then, shaking with fear now. “I s-saw what you d-did. You’re a monster, just like her. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?! I’m nothing like any of you! LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU MURDERERS!” she shouted, getting more worked up by the second. She was lucky that Poppy had this girl in her lap, or she’d wash her away for being so mean to her. She still might, if she kept this up. Why were people being so mean to her today? First that other woman, and now this little girl. She’d never even met her before now, and she was calling her all sorts of nasty names. Let her kill her? If Poppy wanted either of these girls dead, there was little either of them would have been able to do about it.

“You’re silly.” She giggled, finding the idea amusing. She always got what she wanted, and nobody stood in the way of that, whether they had special powers of their own or not. “Why don’t you come and sit down, out of the rain? Poppy will make you feel better too. No more nasty name-calling, kay?”

“NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

That was evidently the wrong thing to say. The girl screamed at her, running off towards a well. Shadows con-verged in front of her to form a doorway-sized hole in the wall, which she plunged into, vanishing from sight. Poppy clapped her hands once in delight. Oh, so she was special after all! That was an interesting power she had! What else could she do? Could she take other people with her? What happened if the portal closed when only half of a person was in there? Could she make anything else out of shadows, like shadow puppets? Poppy’s big sister had made those for her once, when she couldn’t sleep. She knew now it was only to get to sleep, but she could remember enjoying seeing the various shapes she had made; it had been just like magic when she was a child. Maybe it HAD been magic after all!

…unfortunately, the girl appeared to have vanished, so she couldn’t ask her any of this, and she probably wouldn’t see her any time soon. The thought depressed her, and she sighed mournfully. Next time, she’d just pump the girl so full of lust for her that she’d do absolutely anything Poppy asked of her. There was just no reasoning with people as irrational as she was. Silly girl.

“Poppy only wanted to help.” She said sulkily, more to herself than anything else. She resumed stroking the girl’s hair, occasionally laying a hand over her breast to feel her heartbeat. She seemed to be calming down a little, although she didn’t seem to be feeling much better. This was such a slow way of doing things! She could have had this girl in the palm of her hand by now if she’d gone about things in her usual manner…

“What’s your name?” she asked the girl then, realising that she had no idea who it was she was playing with her, only that she was special, just like Poppy. She needed something to call her; “Windy” sounded a bit naughty to her ears, and it was the only nickname she could come up with without her name. “I’m Poppy.”

---

Emily wasn't entirely sure how she managed to escape the vortex...she was vaguely aware of other pieces of debris, and softer, warmer things swirling around in there with her. It seemed she had just been...spat out. One moment, she was engulfed in blackness, and the next she was able to breathe again, and she was falling...

"FUCK!" she screamed as she plummeted at least forty feet, bouncing against the wall of a building and landing painfully in an alleyway, her entire body rocking at the impact. She lay still, dazed for a few moments, and heard a thundering whoosh that could only be the water spout exhausting itself. Cold water flooding her back seconds later told her she was correct. Evidently the bitches had gotten bored with it and figured she'd be dead by then. Well, that was a mistake they were going to regret making...

She stood up, and the pain was overwhelming, bringing black spots to her vision. She flopped to the ground again, sending more jagged sharps of pain racing through her body, and let out a scream of frustration. It just wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to take on two witches at once, especially when they combined their powers like that? She had been lectured twice about how wrong it was to use her powers to cause destruction; well, that was hypocrisy at its finest, wasn’t it? Look at the carnage those two had caused; Emily couldn’t have managed that. She could bring down buildings, but they collapsed in upon themselves, she couldn’t physically tear them apart like that. Those little girls were absolutely psychotic.

Her right arm hung at an odd angle, and she could no longer place any weight on her left leg at all. Her shoulder was likely dislocated, it hurt to try and move her right arm at all. What was wrong with her leg she could only guess: she could have fractured or broken a bone, pulled her hamstring muscle, dislocated her hip, or just bruised it so badly that she couldn’t move it. She had stopped coughing blood at least, but she was a mass of cuts and bruises (the hot wetness of her cheek, coupled with the slight breeze that was reaching her teeth, suggested it might have been cut right open, although she couldn’t see it and had no real desire to find out at this point) and her clothing was shredded and sopping. She looked like the survivor of one of her own explosions. She needed to find a support of some kind so she could walk again, and try and pop her shoulder back into place…although she had no idea how she would do that. It didn’t hurt…so long as she kept it still. Leaving it as it was wasn’t really an option, but she could just as easily make things worse by playing about with it. She needed a doctor of some sort really, but doctors always had a shit-ton of questions to go with their help, and Emily didn’t really feel like answering any of them. There was probably a search for her out by now anyway. No, she was on her own with this.

Emily held no real fear of death – she had seen the worst life had to offer, and doubted that death could match that – but she had no real desire to die, and death was a very real possibility for the next few hours. She couldn’t help but laugh, a hysterical sound without any real humour to it; it really did serve her right. All actions had consequences, and she was perfectly willing to accept whatever came her way, although it was more than a little annoying that luck had turned its back on her more than once today. Things weren’t entirely her fault; after all, she didn’t go around attacking witches for their powers, she had done nothing to provoke any of them. Although she wouldn’t utter a single scream of pain if one of the little bitches who were no doubt looking for her found her. She’d laugh in their faces to the very end. The thought was a comforting one, because she knew she’d do just that: she hadn’t screamed or cried since the first time a man took her, and she would never do so again, and no pompous little brat was going to change that, regardless of what their power was.

Emily dragged herself further into an alleyway, swearing at each stab of pain she received for her troubles. She needed to rest for a few moments before she tried putting her shoulder back into place. Passing out would be a very bad idea, because she probably wouldn’t wake up. She hadn’t been carried that far from where she had started, and if any of them decided to look for her, they wouldn’t have far to go. At the very least, she wanted to be conscious if death arrived to greet her.
 
[FONT=&quot]Eva[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Kicking aside some rubble and debris, Eva began hunting among the scraps for something sharp and pointy. If she were to find a vulnerable witch soon, waiting to be slit in the throat, Eva had to be ready for such an occasion. She was hardly fit to do the deed with her bare hands, particularly if the writers of this play had no intentions of bringing aboard a regular member of the audience to make her brief little cameo before recruiting her. Yet however, she was not a regular member of the audience by far. She had extensive knowledge of what was happening behind the scenes – treat it like, a VIP pass beforehand if you will. She was by far a lot more informed by all the goings on compared to everyone else – the regular members of the audience sitting back allowing this comedy of errors to surprise and awe them at every single opportunity while at the same time bewildered as to what is exactly going on. Kicking aside some steel debris, she swore as her foot slammed painfully against the tough metal, while she remained dreadfully damp from all the water. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Wedged between some bricks and mortar, Eva pulled out a rather reasonable looking blade from the damp ground. Shaking it thoroughly to discard the excess water, she pulled the blade up close to her face to examine its capabilities. Impressive, she muttered to herself, this knife was still in a rather decent condition, with little to no evidence of rust or wear. Her index finger tapped against the edge of its blade, the feeling of rubbing her finger against something this delightfully sharp only made her giddy. So well forged and so well sharpened, this would make more than a fine replacement for her previous weapon that she had lost earlier while the Lightning and Light Witches were at mortal combat. She began stabbing the air with rapid thrusts, imagining the feel of this blade penetrating deep into an unsuspecting witch’s flesh, her powers ready to be collected by the victor, and a new witch would be born after the bloodshed. “Adam, that’ll be your name…” Eva said, satisfied with her new belonging. Her pseudonym was close enough to the name Eve, and she often named belongings such as this Adam for some vague reasons. Eva/Eve herself was the bearer of the temptation; Adam would be her companion who would succumb to the temptation. And Eva’s temptation – or rather, goal – now was to stick a middle finger up at the Horned King and attain her rightful powers by whatever means. “Patience Adam, our victim will draw near soon…”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Glancing overhead to examine the aftermath of the spiral column of wind and water that had laid ruin to this entire area in a matter of minutes, Eva could not help but feel a deep sense of admiration. For a play, the special effects were surely over the top yet fantastically entertaining. More of this kind of stuff was needed to really bring this comedy of errors to life. She had to applaud the leading actors too for making this spectacle truly worth viewing. How clever was it for the writers to bring together four witches in the same area like that. One had fallen victim to the storm, two looked incapacitated from all those special effects and the other one was…a small girl? Eva snuck in closer, careful to conceal herself behind some large pieces of rubble to take a closer look. This new Water Witch looked barely anything older than eleven or twelve, especially in those dungarees. How was this bitch a witch? Barely out of her nappies by the looks of it, and seemingly as harmless as any primary school child, this girl was the new Water Witch, the conjuror of that tidal wave and the same entity that took that water column and had so much fun with it? Eva could only utter a sigh of admiration now. Fascinating indeed, that a kid could be so capable of all this destruction and so much power contained within her. What a child prodigy as well. Compared to how poor Jessica was, this girl was already a natural on the stage, manipulating the water like that almost effortlessly and thoroughly delighting the audience. Well, this witch had got herself a fan.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]It was odd to even think that this little girl was theoretically the killer of her sister. It had to be, surely. There seemed no other explanation for why the Horned King would allow a little kid to have such powers – not that Eva herself could talk, seeing as she still technically hadn’t yet attained the age of sixteen. This girl had to have murdered her sister somehow to forcefully take the water powers, yet the manner of her death when they eventually found her corpse was…horrifically odd to say the least. Surely one would have expected it to have been the work of strangulation, or of a knife kill – or something mundane. No one expected anything weird to have forced Jessica to meet her maker at such a young age. With that in mind, Eva considered keeping her eye close on this seemingly infantile Water Witch. There was the chance that there was something more to her than it seemed. Oh how wonderful would it be to snatch her powers away from the girl and to own as a trophy just to mock poor Jessica who was undoubtedly rotting somewhere. However, Eva didn’t fancy her chances of taking on this witch yet, especially as she was after all, still a human, a regular member of the audience. And besides, getting extremely wet again was not on her agenda. No, she would happily bide her time and wait for the writers to give her their blessings. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Freya[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]This girl was everything but ordinary. She was stroking her hair and tapping her nose like she was a plaything. Everything around them – the water, the wreckage, the horrific deaths that undoubtedly occurred and generally what had just happened – did nothing seem to bother this girl? It was like all of this was miles away from the girl’s mind as she was playing with Freya like a doll. How odd…and yet this was something awfully sinister at the same time. Why would a little girl elect to stay put in the middle of what looked like the most severe Blitzkrieg attack for seventy years, parentless and play around with a monster like her? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Her strength was coming back little by little, but not efficiently enough. Whenever Freya tried to string together coherent sentences, she would barely be able to begin speaking. Whenever she tried to move herself off Poppy’s – at least that was the name Freya heard – lap, the mix of fatigue and excruciating pain that remained obstinate just held her down again. It didn’t look like she was going to be allowed up anytime soon, but she had to see if Lily was alright, even if…even if…Freya could now audibly hear everything clearly again. It did feel like a massive relief, as if something precious had been lost for eons, but had now been found again. Freya could now hear Lily’s voice, shrill and precociously loud for someone of her size. It shocked her to the core, because the state that Lily was in – she had never seen anything like it before during the brief time they had together. “All this time, all you wanted from me was my power, wasn’t it? You were just using me! Just like Alyss did! All that stuff about how hard your life had been, about how you cared, about the things that made you human – EVERYTHING YOU TOLD ME – it was all a lie! ALL YOU’VE DONE IS LIE TO ME!” she heard Lily yell, which by now had completely broken her heart. Freya expected Lily to have reacted with horror at what had just happened and every revelation surrounding it, but she never expected this much hostility – and how badly Lily had twisted her actual intentions. Frustratingly, as Freya tried to reply, she was still largely unable to, and when Lily yelled “MONSTER”, a sense of defeatism razed through her. There was no way that Freya could argue with that…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]She could have struggled to hold back some of the tears, but what would have been the point? She had barely any effort at the moment to do the simpler of things other than breathing, and there was no point containing it within her. The fact that Lily had completely misconstrued her intentions for some reason wasn’t the main thing bothering her. It was the fact that to an extent Lily was correct that broke her heart. All this time she had been capable of being perhaps one of the biggest monsters that [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot] ever had the displeasure of hosting - and she didn’t know it. All this time she had been so sure that she was just a regular human being, a human being moulded only with compassion and love for those who needed that compassion and love that the Horned King’s decision to make her a witch just never seemed logical. All this time she had been so sure that she was nothing like the other witches and that she was incapable of killing. Yet today, it had been proved that she could kill scores of people even without intending to. If that didn’t make her the most dangerous entity in this city now due to her instability, then what the fuck would?[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I s-saw what you d-did. You’re a monster, just like her. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?! I’m nothing like any of you! LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU MURDERERS!” Lily was now seemingly yelling at Poppy, which seemed odd…, what had Poppy done other than…oh shit…no.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]YOU! You’re the Water Witch…? You?! A little girl like you? H-how…?[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]No sooner had this bizarre realisation hit Freya did she catch the sight of Lily disappearing, literally into the shadows. After her final screeching yells ordering them to leave her alone, the shadows converged, wrapped around her and Lily appeared to disappear straight through what looked like the shadows forming a door-like shape. Freya wanted to erupt into a state of frenzy, but her heart just refused to speed up for some reason. All this time…two witches were talking to other, both unaware of each other’s true identities? How…? Why was all this happening? And…just what was going on? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Remembering that the girl playing with her now was the Water Witch, Freya looked up at Poppy’s innocuous looking face again and momentarily flinched with horror. Why? Why was it now that her strength was returning enough to allow her to speak again? Why now? Now that Lily had already disappeared and that Freya was now unlikely to be able to see her again ever? And what did this Poppy want with her now? Was she…going to finish her off?[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“If you’re going to kill me, witch…” Freya could only manage a whisper, still breathing a little awkwardly, “…then do so quickly. I’m in no state to fight back…and if you are going to do it soon, I’m…glad…” the sense of defeatism was consolidated firmly now. If Poppy wanted to kill Freya for her wind powers, then so be it. She was far too dangerous to be allowed to live, though if this transaction of blood would mean a more dangerous witch with multiple elements loose on the world, then she deserved to burn in hell for allowing it to happen. If she lived, she could grow only more unstable later. If she allowed death to take her by Poppy’s hands, a substantially more dangerous witch could be born. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Yet…one glance at Poppy’s innocuous and curious looking face after she spoke, it didn’t look like she had any intentions of killing her. No, Poppy just didn’t seem to exhibit that look of malevolence deemed capable enough for her to kill a severely wounded witch right here, right now - let alone anyone. Maybe she was just a little girl after all…? Witches...just what were they? She just couldn't seem to understand them anymore now...[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“I’m…sorry,” Freya then continued, “forget I said anything…”


[/FONT]
 
Poppy sighed inwardly. This was why she hated dealing with people with free will: they always said the most irritating things. Seeing the girl flinch from her touch annoyed her. She wasn’t ugly, was she? The other girl had called them both monsters, but Poppy certainly didn’t look like a monster. She was just a little girl…a cute one, if she did say so herself. Why would anyone flinch from her? Even those she was playing with didn’t flinch from her, even as she had her way. This was something she didn’t like at all.

“Poppy isn’t a witch!” she said indignantly, pouting. ‘Witch’ was a term those nasty Grey Order people used for special girls like her, and she was momentarily surprised – and a little upset – that this girl would so freely throw their nasty terminology about. She didn’t have warts on her nose, or a pointy hat, or even a broomstick...although she thought she might quite like a broomstick, and maybe a hat for special occasions…a big one, with a sunflower on it. Plus she was only twenty, and witches were all old women. She shook her head in denial, dismissing the idea. The only comparison to be made between herself and a witch was that she made potions, although her ingredients were a bit tastier than eye of newt. “Poppy is special. Like windy girl is special, only…different.” she shrugged, offering another innocent, reassuring smile. “Poppy plays with water. The mean woman attacked, so Poppy washed her away down the street. Windy girl made a storm, so Poppy calmed it down for her. See?” she raised the girl’s head up slightly, so she could look around for herself. “No more storm! Just rain. Do you like the rain, windy girl?”

It was true enough; Poppy HAD calmed things down…although only because maintaining a grip on that water funnel had given her a headache. If it hadn’t, the devastation would probably still be going on. She would have made a nice big circle of destruction around them, and washed everything away. But this girl had no reason to suspect that …after all, she was clearly blaming herself for all this devastation and Poppy knew how she appeared to other people, even without her special abilities to convince them that what they saw was the reality of things. If she had seen anything, it would have been her own twister destroying things, and not Poppy’s little creation. That the girl had apologized for her words almost immediately told her that she didn’t suspect her of anything, beyond her natural distrust for other special people…and if the only others she had met were that mean woman and the crazy girl, Poppy couldn’t really blame her for that. She’d have to show her that they weren’t all bad…just her.

Still, that offer to kill her was tempting…she thought she’d be glad to die? She most definitely would be when Poppy was through with her, because she wouldn’t kill her quickly. She’d make what the mean woman had done to her look like a paper cut by comparison. Her body had probably gone numb by now; she’d have no such luxury if Poppy was the one playing with her. She’d have so much fun…

“Can you move? Poppy will take you home, so you can sleep. Daddy always said sleep makes you feel better.” She nodded sagely, as if that settled the matter. If she could get the girl to drink something she prepared as well, so much the better. She wondered then where Katty was; she should be starting to get drowsy right about now, and it would get progressively worse. Soon, she’d be weaker than this girl lying in her lap. Poppy hoped to find her before that. She could have some fun with her Katty, and punish her for running away...

"Killing is bad. You've been a very bad girl, but Poppy will forgive you this time. Just don't make any more storms, kay?"
 
Hmm. It was getting late. Tristana sighed and shook her head. Just what was this? No less than four witches had appeared in that one little cafe, including herself, and she couldn't find any of them? Bullshit.

Something was up, and that kid who had called her sister... dammit dammit dammit! Just why the fuck couldn't she get that girl out of her head.

"Uuuugh!" she growled. A few people looked at her, but it was London. A crowded capital. Nobody cared much for a stranger if their sole problem was vocal. She sighed and put her head in a hand. She had to keep looking. She couldn't leave things as they were. She didn't know WHY. Though really, wasn't that a reason she was looking for her? Tch. These feelings were so damn confusing.

Becoming one with the crowd, she vanished into the alleyway once again.
 
[FONT=&quot][OOC: Not on top form at the moment, so neither is the post.]
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[FONT=&quot]After seeing and hearing the hysterical state that Lily was in, Freya allowed the remnants of strength she had left that was building up slowly again to just diffuse back out of her body. The pain didn’t matter anymore. That would heal, but whether the psychological pain that had just been inflicted on her would do so anytime soon, Freya had no idea. Frightened of herself to the point of involuntary shaking (either that or it was the cold that had suddenly crept in so discreetly) and despairing at what her powers had done, she was also befuddled by confusion. Nothing seemed clear to her now. She seemed to have accepted that perhaps all witches were monsters that deserved to be put down, but after seeing Lily vanish into the very breast of the shadows themselves, what did that make her? And this Poppy here? What did that make them? Freya knew very little about Poppy, yet looking at her, it seemed just incredulous that this young girl could possibly be a witch? It had to have been a mistake. What about Lily? She seemed genuinely vulnerable, but Freya’s perception of her now seemed totally skewed with the revelation that she too was a witch. She never anticipated that coming whatsoever. And who would?[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Hearing Poppy yell into her ear that she was no witch still had little effect on Freya, as she continued to lay limp. For all she knew, anyone could be a witch. Any young woman walking around could be a witch. One of the girls at Dixons earlier could have been the Earth Witch. A fellow colleague at [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Santander[/FONT][FONT=&quot] could have been the Lightning Witch or something. It served only to consolidate further her state of confusion to the point that she could only admit to herself that she just could not hope to understand the Horned King and the maidens he crafted witches out of. She was still breathing (annoyingly), but what could she do now? Where could she go? She had already exposed herself as being a witch who had probably murdered a lot more people than the Light Witch already. How could she possibly salvage any hopes of normality again? Why couldn’t she just die and face penance on the other side for what she had done? Yet this Poppy didn’t seem to want to let her die. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Hearing the girl’s offer to take her home to rest, Freya could only weakly tell her to do whatever she wanted. She wasn’t going to go anywhere in a rush, and even then she was in no physical state to. However, the thought of just dying in this little girl’s home was not an appealing thought to her, but it didn’t seem like Poppy took much notice of this prospect, not as if it probably even crossed the young girl’s mind. Whether she too was a witch or whether Lily had just been mistaken, it didn’t seem to matter to her anymore now, but Poppy’s naivety was startling at best. She was talking to the very girl that had levelled an entire block, killed scores and took down so many other’s homes, hopes and aspirations, yet was forgiving her and was taking her home to rest? “Still…you could just call an ambulance…” Freya muttered, “Or get the Order round to finish me off. I don’t know why you would bother taking this witch home…”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]She then recalled that Poppy had asked for her name. Freya considered just dropping her alias completely and instead to don her real name again. If she felt that she did not deserve to stay alive after what she had done, then the very prospect of a witch knowing her real name and using this to her advantage was not going to frighten her anymore. In fact, she may as well embrace this prospect as punishment for her actions today. Yet despite this, Freya just couldn’t physically utter the word, as if some persisting part of her that hadn’t given up hope yet was pulling her back. With the cocktail of fear, horror, guilt and confusion in her mind, it was just one bloody civil war inside her and she just couldn’t think straight anymore. “Z…uhh, Freya…” she continued, her voice still barely anything more than a whisper and only barely able to avoid uttering the next syllable of her real name, “just call me Freya, but uhh, I really think you should just leave me here anyway. The last thing I want is to be a bother to you. And I really do mean it. A huge bother to you….” She took another thorough glance at Poppy. Honestly, with eyes that wide and curious, she did seem a little unnerving, but she just couldn’t detect whatever it was in her that had frightened Lily so…[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Forgive me all you want, but I wouldn’t if I were you…if you’ve seen what I’ve done and you’re forgiving me this easily, it’ll be a big mistake, Poppy…”[/FONT]
 
“Windy girl shouldn’t use nasty words like that. Windy girl is special.” She repeated firmly, frowning down at her. She really was far too caught up in this “witch” idea. Honestly, the Horned King had never used that word specifically, had he? He hadn’t to Poppy at least, and she had seen him twice now; more than any of the others. She was his favourite. She felt the girl shaking, and warmed her a little, heating the water around her. Perhaps she’d kept the water on her burns cold for too long. Either that, or she was shaking with some sort of feeling. She seemed to be having a lot of those, and not many of them were very nice. It was beginning to wear a little thin…

“Poppy likes having friends over to play.” She replied enthusiastically, grinning as she remembered the last person who had stayed at her house for an extended visit. She could rent a nearby hotel room for now, her shop was all the way over at Islington, and a little too far to go right now…especially when all the action was in this area, “Windy girl doesn’t need an ambulance, she’s not broken enough for that, and nasty Order people won’t do her any good. Poppy can look after her until she feels better.”

She gave her name then as Freya, and Poppy caught her hesitation, as though she were going to say something else. She was lying to her. But then, that wasn’t surprising. No special people used their real names. Her daddy had always called her “my little Poppy” anyway, so it felt natural to go by that pseudonym for her. She didn’t see the point in bringing it up; it’d only attract suspicion. She wasn’t after the girl’s name anyway, although it might be interesting if she did acquire it…perhaps that would be something to pursue later, in a more private setting. She wondered then how old this girl was, if she was unused to giving out her chosen name instead of her real one. She couldn’t have had her powers for very long…although that much was obvious, she had no control over them at all. But she was quite tall, and mature…seventeen, maybe? She wanted to ask then, but figured that would be a bad idea; it would only invite questions regarding her own age, and the girl would immediately be suspicious if she told her how old she really was. She could always lie about it, but she hated pretending to be younger than what she was. She was a big girl now, and big girls didn’t lie about their age. Not nice ones, anyway. She made a mental note to punish her somewhen for lying to her; Poppy didn’t like liars.

“Freya?” she frowned as she said it. That was quite a short name. “Frey-Frey.” She said happily, pleased with the nickname. It wasn’t as cute as some of the others; but then, this girl wasn’t particularly cute at the moment either: she was a mass of cuts and bruises, and covered in street filth and blood. Perhaps Poppy should give her a bath before she took her home…she didn’t like messy things in her home. Her grandma had always been very particular about dirty things. “Frey-Frey isn’t a bother! Frey-Frey is Poppy’s new friend, and friends look after each other.” She gave the girl a hug – a little awkward, seeing as how she was still lying in her lap – for emphasis.

Poppy almost laughed then. What she’d done? All she’d really done was set the way for Poppy to have a little fun, the first fun she’d had for quite a while. Unchecked she would have caused a lot of destruction, but…she was ultimately small time. Maybe she’d killed a few people with her little outburst, but Poppy had killed more than she had. Poppy was the best, and always would be the best. Frey-Frey had a very high opinion of herself, didn’t she?

“Poppy isn’t scared; she can take care of herself.” She said confidently. “If Frey-Frey makes another storm, Poppy will calm it down and make Frey-Frey all better again. Promise.” She shifted herself slightly and, with both hands, lifted her up gently, forcing her into a sitting position, leaning against her as she knelt behind her. She probably had the strength to get up, but not the will. “Would you like Poppy to carry you? She will, but you have to carry her later as well. Fair is fair.”
 
[FONT=&quot]Freya could only silently laugh to herself for a few seconds. Frey-Frey…that was certainly a first, not to mention that it did sound rather cute, especially as it was a typically innocent child-like thing to do, forging a more loveable nickname to use. She was alarmed when she felt herself rise up into a sitting position. No longer lying on the damp ground and moving a lot more than she had been doing for the last twenty minutes or so, some wounds were now coming back in earnest to sting her and bite at her at every opportunity. The wounds that Poppy had been doctoring seemed to be behaving at the moment, though there were others that Poppy had missed, and they were fighting back with a vengeance. Freya flinched from the pain as she was pulled up to the sitting position. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I still don’t get it, Poppy,” she said, “I’m in such bad shape and I’m a danger to you all. You’ve seen my powers; you’ve seen how bad in shape I am. Why do you still want to hang around with me like this? Surely…surely there are other friends to play with, as in – far less dangerous friends who can at least stand up. Me? I think I’ve had it. Even if I do recover, I’ll just let my powers take over again and destroy everything…” she couldn’t bear to examine the damage again. It was all around her and she was determined now more than anything to just shut everything off, either by closing her eyes completely or by staring at the ground. She had sinned horribly today. She just could not be allowed to continue living. Yet frustratingly, she was still here now, sitting on the very wasteland that she had single-handedly razed to the ground, flattened by her own powers. Why then…why was she spared? Why did she continue to draw breath? Why couldn’t she just have died beforehand and commit penance on the other side? Only then…only then…would Freya ever be permitted to forgive herself again.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]This burden weighed her down so horribly, yet here Poppy was, determined to take her home to befriend her or whatever. Undoubtedly she herself would be an enormous burden to Poppy particularly in the state she was in, yet Poppy just couldn’t seem to understand that. “Please do calm me down whenever that happens…I won’t have any strength to do so when the time comes. And when I do go terribly out of control, do whatever it takes to stop me, even if it means just finishing me off or something. I’m just a danger to everyone, perhaps even to you. I see that you’re already a lot stronger than I am. I can’t keep my powers in check unlike you, but please…no more…no more tidal waves. Or at least I think that tidal wave was yours, so no more of that, please. Just don’t start doing what I’ve been doing and start hurting people, promise? I don’t want to see anymore tornadoes or tidal waves. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot]’s…[/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot]’s been through too much today and people haven’t deserved all this…”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]I have to get rid of these powers. If I just won’t die, then I need to somehow discard them. I can’t carry on having them like this – I just can’t. Please tell me that there is some way I can do this. I don’t want these powers. I’ve never wanted them! What was there to expect? This was a gift from the very Devil himself! What else could the Devil want but to see such destruction be wrought upon God’s creation? What else would an entity like this want other than to be utterly amused by the entertainment He Himself has set up? Maybe if I allow myself to take a little rest elsewhere I can think of something…perhaps later I can call up the Horned King myself and see what He can do. But…am I being selfish by doing this? I say no to these powers and instead, have another girl out there be forcefully made into a witch like I was? And with powers capable of this much destruction, all I’ll be doing is renewing the cycle! Would that be the same if I were to die? It simply repeats the cycle of power transference, as if nothing had happened? Even if it’s the devil Himself, I need to speak with Him somehow…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I’ll…try and walk then, Poppy. It’s not fair if you carry me, and I think it’ll be too much of an effort…” such tremendous effort should be reserved for major sporting events, not to just return to one’s feet. As Freya attempted to stand up, the untreated wounds bit into her once more, sending shockwaves of pain jolting through her again. Fighting the pain and biting her lower lip (then realising that it was cut, so that was also a painful experience), she successfully staggered up to her feet, whether Poppy assisted or not, it seemed likely, because it was a wonder how she could have managed it on her own. “You sure I won’t be a bother if you take me home? How are we going to get there?”[/FONT]
 
[OOC: Shit poast is shit :gonk:]

“Poppy has many friends, but she doesn’t meet other special people very often.” She sighed mournfully, although at this point she supposed that wasn’t entirely truthful: she had met at least three other special people today. But then, before today, the only one she had ever met was Jessie…Poppy’s hands balled into fists. She didn’t like to think about Jessie. Jessie had only pretended to be her friend, after all. It’d be different with Frey-Frey, provided she didn’t run away from her, like Katty had.

“Frey-Frey is just resting, she isn’t dead. Don’t be silly.” She chided her. She seemed to want to die so badly…or did she? Most people who wanted to die just got right on with it, they didn’t talk about it like she did, or pretend they were more injured than what they actually were. Of course, it was unlikely that she thought she was pretending, but that didn’t make it any more real, did it?

She nodded then, head bobbing like one of those cat ornaments she saw in cars sometimes, “Poppy made the big wave, but she didn’t hurt anybody. Just the mean woman, but she wasn’t being very nice. Everyone else just got wet.” She giggled. It was quite amusing that nobody had actually died in that little wave of hers; but then, at the time all she had thought about was getting the woman away from her, and not killing her. She assumed that it would kill her…just as she had assumed that the water spout they had made would kill her. Since the Horned King hadn’t appeared before her, it evidently hadn’t. She was a little frustrated about the whole affair: what was it going to take to get the woman to just die?

Still, it seemed that Frey-Frey recognised on some level that Poppy was far stronger than she was…she wondered then if that would present a problem. But then, she wouldn’t even begin to suspect that she had a second power, so why would it be? If anything, she might take comfort from the strength she saw in Poppy; she was more than capable of bringing her under control, so long as there was some water in the air, and with high-speed winds always came rain, especially in England. Her thoughts seemed to be a bit jumbled: she thought she could be a danger to Poppy, but realised she was more powerful? That didn’t make any sense at all, now did it? “Frey-Frey isn’t a danger to anyone. Not as long as Poppy is here.” She continued reassuringly. In truth, she wasn’t sure just how well she’d be able to keep the girl under control without killing her if she was going to do that again. There had been plenty of water to feed into her twister to bring it under her control this time, but next time she might not be so quick in taking charge. She’d have to just kill her and have done with it…the thought saddened Poppy. As messed-up as Frey-Frey was, she wanted to fix her up, so she had a nice new toy to play with. The mean girl had had her way with her, and she was all messy and second-hand at the moment.

“Good girl.” Poppy took hold of her arm as she climbed unsteadily to her feet, and the girl’s entire weight sagged against her, almost knocking her over. Now, really! This was just too much! Using the contact, she adjusted the girl’s adrenaline levels slightly. She’d likely attribute the dizziness and increased heart rate that’d follow as a result of standing up, but this would at least give her muscles some strength and stop her from being dead weight. She was bigger than Poppy and, for all her gifts, Poppy wasn’t a very strong girl. If the girl had needed carrying she would have had to have had the water around them do it for her, she could never have done it by herself. As Frey-Frey staggered upright, she kept a firm grip on her arm, just in case she fell again…or panicked and tried to run. She shouldn’t, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. The pain in her body and general mood should stop her from feeling the urge to run away...although she might try to make another hurricane if she sensed a threat, and wouldn't that be fun?

“Poppy’s house is a long way from here. Poppy will take Frey-Frey to a hotel around the corner, so she can rest, and we can go there later.” She promised, gently tugging her along down the street. It was unlikely there would be any operational taxis in this area, given that Poppy had flooded the streets, and she wasn’t prepared to drag her all the way to the train station. She could just charm her way into getting a room for free.

…besides, she couldn’t leave yet. Katty couldn’t have gone far, and neither could that mean girl…she wanted them both. The crazy girl, Lil, would have to wait, and if she could control shadows, it’d be harder to catch her at night anyway. Hide-and-seek was fun, but only if the other person didn’t cheat, and running through shadows was definitely cheating.
 
[FONT=&quot]Eva[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Any proficient actor knows that timing is also essential. You simply cannot waltz onto the stage at the wrong time or else you risk dragging down the performance and you cannot possibly afford to disappoint the audience, can you? Therefore, why would an actor think of doing it now? Deciding that she had seen enough and despite the loss of her mobile phone to update the information, the essentials were securely stored in her mind anyway, Eva haughtily sneered at the sight of the Wind Witch, before glancing at the infantile Water Witch. Actors must have satisfactory memories; else they would easily forget their lines, fumble awkwardly on the stage and once again disappoint the audience. If she were to consider herself an actress waiting for her big break on the stage, surely Eva could remember something as memorable as that little girl (Poppy was it?) and that beaten and bruised Wind Witch for later. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Going back to that point about actors and their timing, it was simply quixotic at the moment to attack the two witches in hopes of forcefully seizing their powers here and now. Whereas the Wind Witch would be unable to put up much resistance, it was the Poppy girl that fascinated and troubled her at the same time. Besides, owing to the fact that she was the inheritor of Jessica’s powers, perhaps it would be fun to string her along for a bit – and catch her off guard. She wasn’t electing to take on a fully powered Water Witch here and now, especially as Eva was equipped only with a knife and nothing in the way of powers. Standing up, Eva quietly turned the other way, avoiding the large pieces of debris and retreating into an alleyway, away from the scene. She had found her Adam – her new blade – perhaps she could just test it here and now to see just how capable it was of cutting through flesh. But who could she use as a volunteer from the audience?[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Zipping through a series of alleyways, Eva emerged into annoyingly, a particularly open area. Vast lines of queued up cars filled a main road before her, the incessant sound of impatient car horns ringing the early evening air and impatient drivers irritably gazing out through her side windows to see just what the source of the jam was. It was likely because of what had happened earlier. Of course an enormous tidal wave and a twister in the middle of a city would disrupt traffic. In fact, disrupting traffic was hopefully the least it did. As long as the wave and tornado did plenty of damage and disruption, then it was enough for her. This city had heavily sinned and the people deserved it all. At the same time however, the people of [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot] were also good members of the audience. They may be bad people at heart, but they too deserved to be wowed with the visual spectacles of the stage, and the wave and twister were just some of the starting acts, ladies and gentlemen! [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Hissing at some of the BBC reporters in the area, Eva quickly darted across the road, squeezing in between car bumpers and rears to disappear into another series of alleyways, hoping to find someone vulnerable enough to test her new Adam on. It wasn’t long until a slightly unpleasant sight met her eyes. This alleyway was narrow and cramped, but as it was like a labyrinth in here, it seemed deserted and nicely concealed from the main roads, from other people and especially from irritating BBC reporters who just wouldn’t ever shut the fuck up. She recalled having to violently shake one off in the past – as well as Sky TV news reporter – when she witnessed a particularly horrific car pile-up once. Why the fuck was she being asked questions at the time purely because she witnessed it? What the fuck did she have to do with clumsy drivers who were probably fresh from the bar with their hookers in tow and about twenty bottles downed in the last hour or so? Anyway, she had just seen a tramp sprawled out on the ground in front of her, lying on a very ragged blanket. His clothes were just as ragged and worn – his shoes to the point of falling apart and wild facial hair decorated all over his face. The man seemed to have fallen asleep in this quiet alleyway, and Eva couldn’t exactly blame him. Going around begging and wondering when the next meal would be was certainly a tiring daily job, huh? Well ladies and gentlemen; it appears that we have found a volunteer! Please welcome to the stage…victim number one of the day. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Her blade Adam instantly appeared in her hand, as if she had just accomplished a prideful sleight of hand trick. Approaching the man, Eva began to consider just how brave he was for volunteering. It was not often that she received volunteers from the audience, for they were usually wrought by stage fright. This one however, she could do all sorts to him and he probably wouldn’t be missed…or perhaps even found for a while yet. The closer she approached, the more the man began to stir – annoyingly, Mistress Fate was deciding to warn him – though perhaps it was already too late. He already volunteered and there was turning back now, for the sake of astounding the audience. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]How long have you been out here for, sir? Weeks? Months? Years? Then allow me to do one benevolent act for you. Let me end it all. Perhaps right in the eye. And no, please don’t attempt to resist. You will only worsen the wound and suffer a lot more agony than I had planned…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Ahh, the audience was applauding now. They seem to be satisfied at my first trick. But don’t get too engrossed. I am no simple performer. I did this only as a starter, ladies and gentlemen, and I’m beyond that. I’m far more sophisticated. Soon, I will make my big debut on the stage, where the play will soon really take off. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Freya[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Poppy spoke of “special people”, so presumably in simple child-like terms she was referring to people like the witches without actually using the word due to her personal preference. Yet to Freya, she had seen far too many in just one day. Three had suddenly popped onto her radar in one day and with the addition of herself, [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot] now had at least four witches, with a possible fifth if the reports earlier of a woman using electricity had any basis of truth within them. So that meant about five witches congregated in one city, but why? Nothing made sense to her now, but she supposed the Order already figured this out if they were so heavily present in [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot]. So there were probably five women in this city capable of causing destruction on a scale so horrific that it would eclipse anything ever seen in British history. In fact, today was already far more than enough to eclipse anything else ever seen before. She could only imagine the mass panic that she and the Light Witch had incited thanks to their actions. Such mass panic was enough to destroy whatever was left of [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot] after the witches were done with it. If even someone like Freya could unleash berserk powers as potent as that of the twister she had called forth somehow, then any witch could lay ruin to an entire metropolis, regardless of their personality. If perhaps every one of them could just vanish off the face of the Earth…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Oh, sorry!” Freya cried as she nearly knocked Poppy over as she awkwardly sought to stand up properly and balance herself again on her own two feet. For some reason, she could now feel her heart kick start into high gear once again, madly pumping away – the flow of blood quickly running through her veins and arteries again. Yet at the same time her head really didn’t feel like it was being itself. Her view would often sway and swirl slightly, and she quickly developed what seemed like a feeling of utter dizziness. At least she was actually able to balance herself on her own two feet now, albeit awkwardly to begin with. She felt like she had reverted to being an infant again who was learning how to walk, but was quickly battling the hurdle. Poppy was suddenly like the mother, her arm firmly holding onto the baby, determined to keep her steady as she began to explore the very possibilities of standing up and transporting oneself on two feet rather than with all four limbs! “Thanks, Poppy…” she could only say, taking rapid breaths from time to time as her head continued to spin. Well, she definitely wasn’t dying now. Her symptom didn’t seem like anything that couldn’t be healed by time or sleep, but she was still internally very distressed and confused. She just needed the Horned King…to speak with Him…to get answers.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“To a hotel?” she said, surprised to begin with. How Poppy was going to manage to secure her a hotel room all of a sudden seemed an incredulous thought, but she supposed that it would be a lot less of a bother than being taken to Poppy’s house, which according to her was a long way away. “Well, I guess you could. Just how are you going to manage to get a room anyway? And do you not have any company with you? Parents? Friends? Brothers or sisters? You came out here all alone?” she began to walk with Poppy seemingly dragging her along. Freya’s legs remained slightly floppy, but she was surprisingly still able to walk despite the wounds and the fact that she had no energy beforehand – where this much adrenaline suddenly came from, she had no idea – perhaps she never was that wounded to the point of dying. And yet at the same time, Freya couldn’t help but notice the hilarious irony. She paralleled with Lily so much at the moment, it was as if fate herself was mocking her.[/FONT]
 
OOC: Don't hit me Ringo :sad2:

Richard offered the girl a smile, even though she wouldn't see it he hoped it gave some small comfort "Nice to meet you Katyusha, my name is Richard" Richard then realised the wind was starting to pick up, he hoped the girl didn't get too cold, no doubt she had a far weaker constitution to the elements than him.


"So do you have any parents or someone I can walk you to? It wouldn't be too wise to leave a blind girl on her own to get home without aid, especially with how cold it will get soon"
 
“Poppy knows people, and people know Poppy.” she replied mysteriously, preferring not to go into any detail beyond that. In truth, she had a very simple plan: she’d walk right in, ask for the most expensive room they had, and get it for nothing. Nobody resisted her when she asked for something; they’d go along with anything she said. She’d just call in a favour, as the people in the movies often said. She wasn’t sure what the favour would be yet, but she’d have a plausible excuse by that point if Frey-Frey asked her…which she probably would. This girl had so many questions! But that she was perking up was a good sign. At least she wasn’t asking Poppy to kill her anymore; she didn’t know how long she could resist a temptation like that if it was continuously thrust upon her. Still, she was unused to being asked so many questions. What did these things really matter? She was Poppy. That was all most people cared about. That this girl was taking such an interest in her almost made her feel as though she had her Jessy back again…only Jessy had been a liar. This girl was a liar as well, but she was different from how Jessy had been. She shrugged. “Poppy was alone to being with, but then she made two new friends, Katty and Jenny. Jenny was killed by the mean woman.” she paused for a moment then, still upset by the thought. Poor Jenny. “Katty ran off somewhere. Poppy will go to look for her later once Frey-Frey is safe, then we can all play together. Not safe to be out by yourself with angry special people out on the streets.”

She wondered then if the other girl, Lil, was going to start breaking things as well. She had been angry, so how would she react? It would be dark in a matter of hours, and then she would be able to do all sorts of things if her powers came from shadows. Poppy decided not to give her the chance: she’d take matters into her own hands tonight. She’d had enough of people destroying her city, and it was time to make them all pay. She’d put Frey-Frey away, find Katty and punish her for running away, and then tap into both her powers to make the de-struction here seem like a mild breeze. That would draw the others out, so she could get rid of them all in one go. Still, it might be best to gather a little information first.

“Did Frey-Frey come out by herself as well?” she asked then, curious. She had been with that other girl but, judging by how she had reacted to her little demonstration of her abilities, the two hadn’t know each other for very long. “Who was the other special girl? Did Frey-Frey know her? She wasn’t very nice.”

The little adrenaline rush Poppy had given her seemed to be doing its job, and she didn’t seem too suspicious – but then, why would she be? She had been through a lot today, and the human body was a strange thing sometimes. She had no reason to suspect Poppy of doing anything, after all, her special power was to control water, not people. Or so it appeared. She guided Frey-Frey across the street, making a beeline for the largest building she could see. In truth, she didn’t know if that was a hotel. It was likely an office block. But there were always hotels around offices, so it wouldn’t be a problem.
 
[FONT=&quot]Freya[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]She could detect a noticeable flicker of sadness as Poppy spoke of the friends she had made, the momentary and melancholic pause serving only to confirm it. Poor girl, one of her friends died during one of the Light Witch’s attacks. “No…” Freya could only quietly say in response, her own lingering anger towards that woman beginning to re-emerge now. Never had she ever exhibited this much hatred for anyone before in her life, but the Light Witch deserved every single piece of wrath she received. The epitome of monstrosity, that was what she was, prowling around [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot], murdering whoever she suddenly fancied dead without any ounce of remorse or a single moment of consideration or thought at the consequences of her actions. Life had been cruel to her, but that was definitely no excuse. No one had the God-given right to vent everything out on innocents and the defenceless. It was beyond selfishness and even monstrosity. That Light Witch had to be stopped and quickly, providing of course, if she were still alive, which seemed likely. That poisonous tirade that she had been spewing out at the battle just forced Freya’s blood to boil furiously as she recalled the event, her right hand contorting into a tight fist again. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“She will pay for this…she will pay dearly for this…” yet taking justice into her own hands was never something Freya would do. It was completely against her character, yet after learning and witnessing what the woman had done today, she deserved it. And besides, she was no longer human now anyway. With powers as destructive and as real as the Light Witch, she too was nothing but supernatural monstrosity with no right to continue living. What did it matter if a monster was to be taken down by another monster? As the pair of them was engrossed in thought, they had already abandoned the wrecked area where the twister had been focused at and where most of the damage had been wrought. By now, the frantic emergence of emergency services as well as Order members would only build up and seal off the area, so to abandon it now and to avoid running into contact with any knights for instance seemed a tremendous wave of relief. Freya had no idea where exactly she was being taken, as Poppy as ever could only utter a vague response to her earlier question. There must have been many hotels around here, so which one were they heading to? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Looking up ahead she could see several low-lying buildings, but they were typically only travel agents, some banks and a small NHS clinic. The only building that was credible enough to be a hotel was a tall block not too far away in front of them, but even then, no hotel could possibly be that big, right? And how on earth Poppy would get them in when it was damn clear that she wasn’t going to cough up the money to afford the room, Freya simply had no idea, but she continued to neglect thinking too much about it. All she wanted to do now was to keep walking and to get somewhere, wherever it was, without any questions. “Yeah, I came out by myself. I was coming out to go to work, but that never happened thanks to the Light Witch. I just came out to see what had happened for myself and then…all sorts of stuff happened. I met that girl crying and all alone on the street earlier and got talking to her. I had no idea she was a witch and at the time I had no idea just why she seemed so upset and so slow to trust me. I guess…I guess after what had happened, she never will. God, I hope Lily’s alright…but I would never have guessed that she was a witch…” her own rambling came to an abrupt end when the eligible nameplate of the building before them came into view. May Fair Hotel?[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Eva[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Adam had torn into flesh. This was odd. Surely she had aimed for the poor man’s right eyeball, yet…the blade had cut into flesh instead. How bizarre. Someone’s forearm to be precise by the looks of it, and fresh crimson blood was seeping from the noticeable wound – where Adam had bit into – flowing down the arm and slowly dripping down onto the grimy ground. Eva glanced at the tramp, which by now was wide awake and had recoiled in horror, frustratingly with both his eyes intact. Still, as she was well aware of, performers just would not suddenly stop when cocking up a performance. They just quickly improvise and continue as if nothing had happened. Hissing malevolently, she pulled her blade out of the flesh wound she had just created. She wanted only one volunteer and she had got the person she wanted. Why was there a second volunteer up on the stage interrupting her little trick? She recalled asking for no one else to volunteer, unless they absolutely wanted to be in the show, in which case this could be quickly arranged, for Eva was fortunately very flexible with her stage plans. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The new volunteer was a woman. She didn’t look too particularly young and it was identifiable among the staggering pale complexion of her face (juxtaposed by the startling redness of the lips) that there were the few mild telltale signs that this woman had quite a number of years in her, perhaps approaching middle-aged, who knows. It wasn’t as if it was Eva’s business to care to anyway. The woman stood there, her arm outstretched as if it had been attempting to intercept the knife, though looking at the wound she had received in return, it didn’t look like that went according to plan. Sometimes ill-calculated instinctive human actions tended to be the least successful and the most fatal of moves and this woman was about to learn this. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she had heard the woman say, with that mix of scorn and surprise – something that Eva found annoyingly vexing. Hmm, what was she doing? All Eva did was put on a starting show for the audience. How was that in any possible way a crime? This new volunteer was about to bring the performance down and she wasn’t about to tolerate that. To disappoint the audience may as well be the end of your career, and that would be unforgivable if it were to happen.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The tramp whimpered pathetically, sitting upright now, but with his back firmly against the wall and a look of sheer fright etched across his shaggy and grimy face. Had he shit his pants yet? Eva didn’t want to know, but he certainly looked like he had by now. The fact that the alleyway was narrow and filled with all forms of junk from empty barrels to boxes, it didn’t look like he would be able to efficiently escape even if he wanted to. And that could only have been a good thing. Eva was not about to let off volunteers that easily even if they had stage fright. There was a crowd to entertain and a stage fright man running offstage was the last thing she wanted. “I could ask the same of you,” Eva calmly replied with that oh-so gentle mocking tone, “Interrupt me at the wrong time and you get a knife into your arm. Well, does it hurt?” she gleefully watched as the woman began to examine the wound she had incurred, though irritably, it didn’t look like it was a cause for any bother or concern for her even though the blood by now was substantially seeping out from the deep cut. The hell? Was the concept of pain just nonexistent for this woman? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“How screwed up are you?” the woman replied, taking a few paces away from the tramp and approaching her, “you do this for fun? You waltz around with a knife and decide to stab defenceless people as they sleep? Go around playing stabbity stabbity with people who can’t fight back? Well, you’re definitely a regular madam aren’t you?” then, to Eva’s bewilderment, the deep cut on the arm just rapidly sowed itself up cleanly, as if it had never been there. The essences of the blood that was running down her arm had also vanished in an instant and what was left was an arm as clean and uncut as it presumably had been before the woman came into contact with the blade. What the hell was this? What kind of sorcery was this? Then it quickly hit her. It definitely was sorcery. This was a witch! She had to be! But what the hell was her power? What kind of witch could sow up a bloody wound? Unless… [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The tramp cried in surprise as Eva kicked a cardboard box into his face that rebounded and also slammed into the side of the woman’s face. The man had foolishly attempted to quietly crawl away from the scene hoping that his attacker was completely distracted, but he already volunteered. Volunteers had no right to get off the stage before the spectacle had finished. This bastard was not about to ruin her performance like this. Seizing the tramp by the collar, she grazed his nape with her blade. He howled wildly in pain and in shock before Eva hurled the man straight at the witch herself, as she was caught off-guard. The impact sent the pair of them straight onto the ground, loudly and violently knocking down at the same time a pair of empty aluminium barrels. Kicking aside the tramp, Eva’s foot came down on the woman’s stomach. “Bad move, lady. You shouldn’t have openly done that in front of me. It doesn’t take much to figure out that you have control over blood. I guess I’m right, but still, what kind of element is blood anyway? Not that I mind too much. Stitching up an injury is always useful isn’t it?” [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]With one forceful stab, it would all be hers. Perhaps for the insolence, this one could get it straight in the eye instead. Perhaps the addition of a few more stabs in the throat area, through the temple and through the other eye could be a nice bonus as well. An audience giving her a standing ovation with the sea of “BRAVOS” filling the air, as well as the surprise attainment of a Blood Witch’s powers. Did Eve feel this accomplished too when she defied God, succumbed to the temptation and took a bite out of that delicious fruit? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]It’s a damn good thing you’ve still nothing but a mortal shell, witch. Though it’s a shame that you have to be written off from the play this abruptly. You could have had so much potential with these powers of yours, but alas, the show must go on…[/FONT]
 
“Richard,” she repeated. It sounded like a name she could trust. Just as he had no doubt felt the wind begin to pick up, she had too. She shivered as it blew past her skin. While she liked the cold, the wind often made the weather she loved most slightly unbearable. However, it wasn’t too much of a bother for her. After all, she was wearing long sleeves and her clothes while baggy, were somewhat thick. After the heat that she had experienced earlier in the day, this was a very nice change.

“So do you have any parents or someone I can walk you to? It wouldn’t be too wise to leave a blind girl on her own to get home without aid, especially with how cold it will get soon.” He had a good point… but Katyusha didn’t feel like leaving at the moment. While she could definitely feel herself getting a bit tired, she still had all of that pent up energy in her. She wondered for a second if that was because of the coffee. She hadn’t had much of it before… and she had also heard about people “crashing” after they drank enough of it after so long.

Perhaps that was what the beginning of it felt like? She wouldn’t know. “I… well, I’m not sure to be honest. My parents are gone out of town for a bit, and I don’t want to go home just yet…” As she finished, she wondered whatever became of Poppy and Jenny. They had both been very nice to her, but in her fear she had just run off. The scary woman was just too much for her to deal with. Katyusha had never had anyone really angry at her like that before… and she hadn’t even done anything! But now Katyusha knew she was a Witch and vice-versa.

And it wasn’t as if Katyusha was an expert in self-defense. Without a doubt she would come after her again, and she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. As she shivered at the mere thought, she sighed.
 
OOC: Hoping this post makes up for my absence! :gasp:

IC: That one moment of arrogance cost Jacob more than he could have ever realised. He felt the electricity surge through his body and for a few seconds, he felt the darkness overwhelm him. This was it, he thought. This was where it all ended. But he could have smiled on the inside; he could die with the knowledge that he'd die fulfilling his duty to the Grey Order. Yes, it was satisfaction enough. He would leave his mother and sister, no longer be a burden to them. No longer have to live in such a pitiful world. No longer exist. That was a mild way to put it, although his chances of a quick and easy death were not upon him just yet.

The first thing he felt was his fingers. Although he couldn't see quite yet, Jacob knew he was alive. He tried to open his eyes, but it was too bright. He snapped them shut quickly in a bid to protect his vision. The light was so overwhelming. He couldn't understand why it was there in the first place. He felt so ... alive. Didn't the light appear when you died? And then something hit him. Died? Wait, what? That didn't make sense. When he tried to gather his thoughts together, nothing did matter. At all. Or even make sense.

His senses were coming back, however. Once touch had settled in, hearing came next. It was distant at first, but he could make something out. There were several voices, possibly worried judging by their tones, gathered around him. Had there been an accident? Was he involved? He could feel something lodged into his arm ... something sharp. Then he felt pain. A lot of it. He tried to cry out, but no sound came out of his mouth. However, he heard other voices.

"Is he all right?"

"Should we call an ambulance?"

"An ambulance? Did you see what that girl did to him? We need to call MI5!"

"What about him? He's so young. Is he even alive?"

"I checked for a pulse before, but I think we should call the police."

And instantly, he threw himself up and panted as if he was losing his breath. Jacob opened his eyes and images suddenly hit him like wildfire. A confrontation, a red-haired girl, a library, a book, a stream of electricity. They were blurry, but didn't make sense whatsoever. Jacob put a hand to his head and examined it seconds later when he lowered it in his view. Blood. Plenty of it.

"Are you ok?" came a voice next to him.

It was the coffee girl. Or at least, that's what he thought. It was the one thought that made sense. He was confused. The shop was in such a mess and he was the centre of attention. Why?

"Don't panic," said a man, who was dabbing the side of his head with a towel. "There's an ambulance on its way and the police have been informed about the attack."

Ambulance? Police? Attack? Coffee shop? In that moment, it hit him.

He couldn't recall anything. He tried to remember why he was here, but to only realise he couldn't remember ... anything. Not his name, his family, his friends, why he was here, the so-called attack ... nothing. This scared him. Jacob rose to his feet, despite the protests from everyone in the shop, and staggered towards the door. He couldn't form any words to make up a sentence. He was scared by his own silence, if anything.

When he reached the door, Jacob ran.

The place frightened him to death. The scene was horrifying. The blood continued to flow from the side of his head, but the pain was bearable by now, strangely enough. He found an alleyway, seemingly empty, and hid behind a large bin. His breathing slowed down, and he found a chance to stop and gather his thoughts.

I can't remember anything! he thought, panicking. What happened in there? Where did this blood come from? Who ... am I? And more importantly, why do I have this?

His gaze turned to the metal rod he had been holding the whole time since he woke up. It was the only clue he had. And for now, it was the only hope he had of waking up from this fiendishly nightmare.
 
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