Witch RP

[Metronome]

"I do not think I'm a witch from 1692, I AM. It's really not that hard to believe. Teleportation spells are the trickiest and I just messed it up a little." She followed him into the kitchen and sat on the stool. Now she was the one getting frustrated. He didn't believe her. He thought she was crazy. "This has nothing to do with that shoe."

Amara sighed. "I know you don't believe me, but I can show you." She looked down a the espresso. "Look." Amara moved her hand so that it hovered above the cup and began to concentrate on getting the liquid to float out. This would have been a simple spell for any witch, but with the lack of nature to tune magic from, not even Amara could do it. The liquid didn't even jiggle.

[Pascal]

Mike raised his eyebrows at her argument, but contented to watch her attempt her magic. He didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he did sort of want the magic to work and the espresso to do something interesting. He looked from the cup to Amara. "Now's the time when you make up some very extravagant excuse for why it didn't work." He said, with a slight chuckle.

Mike knew he was annoying the girl, but she didn't seem to dangerous, yet. Still, he wondered if she had escaped from some sort of institution. Perhaps he could pull himself away from her to make a few calls.

[Metronome]

Amara finally gave up, destroyed. She couldn't even prove her story. Now she would be lucky if he didn't send her to an asylum. She would rot for the rest of her life in there, and would lucky if she didn't contract some sort of disease first. Amara pushed the cup away. She wasn't hungry anymore.
"I know you don't believe me," She said in defeat. "I don't know what else to do. What if I can never go back?" Amara stood from her stool and went to get her cape. "I'll just get out of your hair." She looked at the floor as she slunk over to the closet. Her eyes began to tingle with tears as she realized that she may have to live in this era forever.

[Pascal]

Mike immediately felt awful. "Hey, wait," he said and he went over to the closet.

"Look, if you are crazy, there are plenty of drugs we have for that sort of thing, and people with hallucinations and delusions function perfectly fine in society when they are medicated." He said, trying to reassure her.

Mike could tell that wasn't the nicest thing to say, and tried to think of a polite thing that wouldn't fuel her delusions. "Today isn't so bad. We've got lots of neat things that you wouldn't have had in the seventeenth century. Like.... the internet, and cars, and planes, and phones, and indoor plumbing." He paused for a moment. "Maybe you could give this world a shot?" he asked her.

Mike didn't want the girl to go. She wouldn't survive a minute out there, especially if she genuinely didn't understand the world out there. Whether or not she was crazy, she really had no grasp on technology, and would have a lot of trouble doing anything out there. Mike heard his phone buzz, but ignored it, and focused on Amara.

[Metronome]

"I'm not crazy!" She snapped before reining in her temper. She didn't like being called names. Amara had put up with it in the 17th century as well. They called her a monster, a devil, a demon. She was nothing more than a human woman with a gift. Amara wiped her eyes before she looked up at the man.
"How am I supposed to live here? I would spend the rest of my life trying to figure out your technologies. You said something about the...Amish I believe? If they don't use this technology, perhaps I could find a home with them. Where does their family live?"

[Pascal]

Mike jumped a little when she yelled. He was glad at that moment that she didn't have magic. Otherwise she could have hurt him just then.

"No no no. You don't want to live with the Amish. They have really strict rules on conduct and dress and religious affiliations." Mike said quickly. Mike stopped and thought for a moment, she did have a point. It would take a lifetime to learn about all of the technology.

He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for saying you were crazy. I will help you figure this out, but we need some time. True you cannot learn all of the technology, but no one does anyway. It is just the way of things." He looked back towards the closet, "And besides, if you did leave now, I don't know if you could find your way out of the building," he said.

Mike took her hand, and brought her over to a large window that overlooked Boston. He pulled back the blinds. "This is the world now. This is Boston," he said quietly, giving her time to take it all in.

[Metronome]

Amara glared out of the window. "It's not the Boston I know," She said. But maybe there was hope. Maybe she didn't have to crawl in a hole and die. There had to be somewhere that she could draw power from.
"You said that there are still forests," She began, "If you would just take me there, I will prove to you that I'm not lying."

[Pascal]

Mike nodded, a little defeated. "Fine," he said. "I will take you to a forest. But it will take time to get there, and I am famished. I can make us breakfast," he said, flashing back for a moment to the breakfast he tried to make at the blonde's house.

"You do eat cooked eggs, right?" Mike asked, trying to be nice. In an ideal world, mike would have made her take a shower before getting in his car, but he didn't want to press his luck with her. This girl was very temperamental.

[Metronome]

"Yes, I eat eggs," Amara said, a little anxious. What if she got to the forest and her powers still didn't work? What if she broke them? The witch tried not to think the worst. She would just have to wait and see.
"Is there anything I can help with?" She asked, following the man into the kitchen. Then again, having her near modern kitchen technology probably wasn't the best idea.

[Pascal]

Mike opened up the fridge and took out a carton of eggs. "This is my fridge. It keeps things cold." He said, and held the carton out for Amara to touch. "Don't worry, it isn't too cold." He added.

Mike put the carton on the counter, and turned on the stove. He wished for just a moment that he had a gas stove. Then she could probably understand the heating mechanism. Mike pointed to the burner that was turning red. "That's very hot." He said, and pulled out a skillet. "Do you like over-easy, over-hard, scrambled...?" He asked her.