SAVAGE
MERCURIAL

Sam does not pause to analyse who this revolting trespasser might be. It held no immediate resemblance to Elodie as she had been when she'd fled out the window and so any thought that it was her had yet to materialise. When you're attacked a split moment after realising some thing is bursting back inside through you window, the who consideration takes a step back for later consideration.

As much as he'd hate to admit it, he had his back turned. He was watching Annalee walk out on him. The window behind him far from his thoughts, senses and attention. Well done Annalee, you served him up off guard like a true traitor. Did you set this up? Is the dagger bound for his back carrying your name? As this swiping punch connected with his exposed skin it sent him off his feet and crashing to the floor. He scrambled to get back up, fists clenched and fangs bared, in truth Sam hated to fight but there was no choice. Whatever this was clearly hadn't come here to talk.

It's not a student. If it was it was a new one he had yet to be introduced to. That was as far as he came, rising on his feet, quickly taking in this invader which somehow still did seem a bit familiar? Then darkness? Something went for it and... was that Timmy still stood in the door? Why hadn't he just run off?

Sam reared back, his wide open eyes going from the person stood in the light in the doorway to the creature seemingly mauled by darkness. The notion that he should grab Timmy and run them both to safety flickered through his mind but his feet didn't move. He wrapped his arms around himself, pain blossoming from his back. Fuck. He was going to need to feed again tonight.

[Taking 1-Harm]

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET

Every animal knows that being hurt is bad. The beast from the woods jumps back, clinging to a bookshelf as it yowls in pain from the ice-cold thousand-teeth of the shadow clinging to its matted limbs.

No plan! Think in the now!

[9 on Heightened Senses. What’s the best escape route from Timmy’s shadow and Sam’s vengeance?]

Annalee pulls on Timmy's arm. She's bolting. Sam is under attack and she has no desire to defend him or be next. Timmy's shadow is doing something strange and that would be interesting, but it's also dangerous right now. "Timmy, come on!" she says and practically yanks him off his feet. She is leaving now and if he's not moving with her by now then he's getting left behind.

Where to go, where to go? They need to find someplace safe. Someplace to take shelter. Abandoned classroom? Maybe one of the tower rooms. Annalee kept an eye open for a sanctuary. She really needed to make her own, but any small room would do the trick. They needed some place quiet to catch their breath and she needed a little time to work her magic.

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET

Every animal knows that being hurt is bad. The beast from the woods jumps back, clinging to a bookshelf as it yowls in pain from the ice-cold thousand-teeth of the shadow clinging to its matted limbs.

No plan! Think in the now!

[9 on Heightened Senses. What’s the best escape route from Timmy’s shadow and Sam’s vengeance?]

You are filled with the ineffable flow of life, the energy of creation, the ability to animate and create and breathe new form into the dead things of the world. The answer is thus simple: Bring one of them to life. Animate the shadow as its own entity apart from Timmy or return Samael to the realm of the living.

You can only probably do one while scampering out of the door, as sweet as doing both would be. It's the kind of thing that may not stick for very long, at least without some more serious ritual. But it'd absolutely ruin either of their days. Who is at the top of your shit list, Elodie?

Annalee pulls on Timmy's arm. She's bolting. Sam is under attack and she has no desire to defend him or be next. Timmy's shadow is doing something strange and that would be interesting, but it's also dangerous right now. "Timmy, come on!" she says and practically yanks him off his feet. She is leaving now and if he's not moving with her by now then he's getting left behind.

Where to go, where to go? They need to find someplace safe. Someplace to take shelter. Abandoned classroom? Maybe one of the tower rooms. Annalee kept an eye open for a sanctuary. She really needed to make her own, but any small room would do the trick. They needed some place quiet to catch their breath and she needed a little time to work her magic.

That is, perhaps, the most sensible idea that Timothy's heard all day. He offered no resistance, letting himself get dragged stumbling out of the room.

And as she pulled him out the door, into the light and (relative) safety outside, his shadow stretched into the study, growing ever-longer...

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET

If Elodie was thinking clearly or planning ahead right now, you know she would pump Sam so full of life flowers would be blooming where he walked. But she's not, is she? What she knows, right this second, in this moment, is that the shadow is clinging to her and dragging the warmth out of her with teeth like little needles and it hurts and she hates it, she hates it so much, so she digs her claws into it and gives it breath and a curse which is all things strive and then she flings it at a bookshelf and scampers, scampers, scampers out.

Elodie!

You is scamper.

Rushing, rushing, rushing, rushing. No one stops. No one interferes. They try, but they're slow and stiff even when they're fast. They might think that they're hunters but they're just the echoes of the hunt. You've got the real thing, baby.

When you come to a halt at last you're buzzed and fresh and oh-so-cracklingly alive. Even your injuries feel like just another part of you that's vibrant. But even as exhilarating as it feels, it'd feel even better if you had someone to apply the medicines and seal in your glorious energy again because having to meet your dad right now would be such a fucking mood kill.

Who do you procure for this task?

Annalee!

Dark corners are hard to come by at this time of night. There's only really one place that's suitable and that you know isn't occupied right this second - Elodie's tower. Though as you sneak in through the door you are confronted by the cute but indignant oink of a brave little pig - albeit one laboring under a very nasty curse.

Timmy and Sam!

The shadow consolidates, crackling black and green, a toxic but vibrant life-death that feels so deadly-vibrant it's almost mortal. More mortal than little Tim. Life and death on the edge of razors, seeking the equilibrium of humanity even though it could be terrifyingly more - or less. It's the kind of energy that doesn't live long at all, abominably balanced between life and death, not the type to be stayed or stilled for an instant...

It feels like something you can talk to, Timmy. Even though it gives you the most perilous vibes of anything here when you look it in the eye and it smiles you can sense that it's listening to you. It might be the only thing that ever really has.

"Hmm, that's quite odd. Is this what happened to you, Carmen?" Annalee asks to nobody in particular. She gives the pig a gentle pat pat on the head. "Well, this will have to do I suppose. Timmy, kindly take the pig and wait in the hall, I'll call you in presently. I've got some work to do, and I need perhaps half an hour to...freshen up, if you will. Oh, and don't let the pig run away. If she's well-behaved...maybe I'll lift her curse when I'm done here." Annalee gives Carmen a little wink and pushes her towards Tim, then she pushes the two of them into the hall and will not take no for an answer.

That dealt with, she does actually freshen up for a moment in Elodie's bathroom. It's been a long day and she's literally been flung from a tower into the castle moat. She can take a moment to wash her face. And wipe away the blood of Sam's bite. A bite she'd allowed him. A closeness she had permitted. Her terms, her rules. But then when she'd decided things weren't working, he had attacked her. Taken advantage of her. Used that closeness to bypass her charms and wards.

Annalee permits herself a smile in that bathroom mirror as she slides out the bit of Samael's shirt sleeve that she had ripped from him in their little exchange. Closeness was a double edged sword, after all. She hadn't been willing to face him back there. She hadn't been confident in herself, her spells. What if he had rushed her or tried something as she went to cast? That was of course before that madness burst from the portal, and Timothy's shadow had grown some teeth. Well, well, our little mortal had something else going for him it seemed, or someone else. Wasn't that exciting?

Annalee begins to hum to herself as she finishes drying her face and begins to run the shirt sleeve under the water. There was a little blood on it, you see, and that was the problem with vampires. All that blood. Blood was the thrill, the violence, the power. What would a vampire be like if you washed the blood right out of them, hmm? It was something worth finding out. Annalee's hum becomes a chant, dark words echoing through the bathroom. The old lights flicker and sizzle and the water seems to fill that sleeve, sink deep, deep into it until every last drop of blood of blood has run out and both sink and sleeve are pure, gleaming white. The words leave Annalee's lips and the taste in her mouth is sweet, like taking a bite out of a ripe plum. She licks her lips. Why hadn't she been confident in herself? That one little mistake on the sphinx? Please, even that hadn't mattered in the end. She was a powerful witch and it was time that people learned that properly.
[Hex casting 5+2+1=8. Samael is afflicted with Binding. Correctly this time. He cannot physically harm others. Annalee enters her Darkest self on this result.]

She steps out of the bathroom, drying her hands and flips the towel onto Elodie's bed. That had been good, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly. Elodie had been a source of chaos today and it was clear that simple humiliation wouldn't work that well on her. Oh, Annalee considered making all her hair fall out, but she'd just get angry over something like that. No, what she needed was a more subtle curse, one that would stop her and her absurd flights of fancy in their tracks. Yes, let's see how the little girl who could never face anyone fared when she couldn't tell truth from lies and read every person she met utterly wrong. The ritual for this one was easy, she had Elodie's old shirt after all, stashed away in her bags from her last visit to this tower room. She put a hand on it and it practically seemed to glow with a black light as she spoke the words of the hex and darkness leapt from the tower to cloud Elodie's vision. She would see phantoms everywhere. Bug bugs and snakes were so gauche. No, the phantoms that Elodie would be seeing would be in intentions. Misread body language, misunderstood signs, subtext where none existed. Confident in her foolishness.

[Hex casting: 5+6+1=12. The curse goes off without a hitch. Elodie is struck by illusions, specifically she sees non-existent subtext everywhere. The exact manifestations are up to consensus of whoever is doing the scene.]

Then Annalee crawls onto Elodie's bed to relax, flinging the exhausted shirt to the side."Alright Timmy, you can come in now" she calls out. You've stayed outside with your new pig friend the whole time, right Timmy? You didn't peek or anything? That would be an extremely rude thing to do to a witch.

SAVAGE
MERCURIAL

Sam is nothing if not quick to recover. Sure some kind of wilderness-monster had just burst through the window and sent him on his ass shortly to be followed by what at first had seemed to be little Timmy's harmless shadow but now seemed to be neither harmless or his shadow as... Timmy was no longer anywhere to be seen.

As he got back on his feet the strange monster seemed to do something to the darkness thing and suddenly it seemed an entity all of its own. He had one moment here to catch his breath, here and he did not squander it. One breath. His mind raced, weaving fast but beautifully intricate cobwebs of manipulation. One breath was all he needed to regain his velvet-smooth voice. This creature didn't know him. This creature was a fresh canvas.

"I thank you for the assistance," Samael began, brushing himself off a little, drawing a hand through his ruffled hair. "I was caught quite off guard. Let me repay you with some advice," he felt exposed being still without a shirt. "The girl, Elodie Faucher, is dangerous. Timothy would not accept my protection against her. Perhaps he will accept yours."

[Rolling to Hypnotise Timmy's Shadow: 2+4+2=8 = Their sanity is unhinged. Command: Protect Timmy from Elodie.]

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET

Look. It’s not intentional, right? It’s totally not intentional. It’s instinct. Their hearts are intertwined. Of course, of course Elodie goes and seeks out Margot.

With what remains of her forest high, she clambers head-first down a wall and breaks into the one place she knows the werewolf often hides to lick her wounds: the locker room.

Samael!

The shadow moves. The shadow does not stay still. Roiling thunderheads of inky night convulse with green lightning, as streams of nothingness ooze from every side and flow away. Reaching. Reaching. Farther and farther out. Probing. Hungry. When it steps, the whole mass looms steadily closer, as the legs alternate freezing and jerking forward. Memories of walking. Imitations of motion.

“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal, Sam.”

The voice is...velvet-smooth. Refined. Luxurious in its enunciation. Like yours.

Far too much like yours.

“There’s no need to be so hard on yourself either! After all, there is something you can do for our Timmy…”

The fireplace goes out.

You can hear the logs crackling. You can feel...well, not heat, but less cold. But the light winks out, swallowed by the darkness. One by one, the candles, and even the open door succumb to

It’s before you now. Drawing a tendril across your gashed chest, and wherever it touches is alcohol pouring across the torn flesh, and a thousand stabbing needles of cold too cruel to let you go numb.

The voice whispers in your ear.

”Keep. Your mouth. Shut.”

Carmen!

Now. You need stay calm. Don’t make any sudden moves. Remember your training.

Because one of your fairy tales is coming true right now.

You are sitting in the middle of the serpent’s den, and a handsome prince is holding you. Hugging you. Cuddling you tight until you can feel his panicked, human heart beating against you. He sniffs loudly. Hiccups. With trembling hand he delicately removes his glasses, to better wipe at his glistening eyes, and your heart breaks for him. How long has been kept prisoner here? What have they been doing to him? Justice demands that he go free, and justice has chosen you as its hand. Your whole life’s training has led up to this moment, to be the beacon in the dark for this poor, helpless, hot boy.

The fact you’re a pig? Minor setback. Didn’t have that bit in your dreams. But y’know, evil is ever-crafty. You have to be prepared for anything. You’ll figure something out.

And, yes, your hunch might’ve been wrong last time. That girl might not have been the helpless prisoner you thought she was. But look at him! Crumbling down, alone in a dark hallway, resting his head on you, weeping until he can hardly breathe. Have you ever seen a monster cry like that? From a heart overflowing with fear and sorrow? As a matter of fact, you haven’t. And you’ve seen an awful lot of monsters. Ergo, normal boy.

And, true, he doesn’t look like a prince yet. That comes later, usually after rescuing him, nursing him back to health, and breaking whatever spell’s been put on him. (Protocol for spell-breaking: Kiss him frequently, in as many situations as possible. Process of elimination. You’ll get it eventually.)

But none of that matters right now! A good hunter thinks in the moment! There’s a helpless, despairing prisoner here with great hair and no idea how near hope is for him.

What do you do?

[That's gonna be a 3 + 2 + 4 = 9 on Turning Carmen On. Timmy is currently without his glasses.]

Annalee!

Don’t you worry, the door hasn’t budged once this entire time. To include just now, when you called for Timothy to join you. And for minutes after.

Hrm. That’s probably not ideal. Dear little Timmy must’ve gotten scooped up by yet another one of those monstrous cretins you have to call classmates. I mean, after all, he wouldn’t have the spine to just sit out there, cuddling a pig, ignoring you, now would he?

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET

Look. It’s not intentional, right? It’s totally not intentional. It’s instinct. Their hearts are intertwined. Of course, of course Elodie goes and seeks out Margot.

With what remains of her forest high, she clambers head-first down a wall and breaks into the one place she knows the werewolf often hides to lick her wounds: the locker room.

Locker rooms aren't private places, but nowhere is really private in Sleepshy Rise. Eyes glint in every shadow and horrors squeeze themselves into crevasses to hide themselves from the true monarchs of the night - or the reformers of those monarchs. So you don't go somewhere to hide away, you go somewhere where the company is least objectionable to your current mood.

The locker room is home to gaseous spirits, will o'the wisps, lantern-lighters; immune to the physical strength of those who most frequently pass through and capable of slipping in and out of the metal boxes freely. The room has developed a mist, shower-steam that hangs thick and misleading, the sound of running water frighteningly inviting. The trickster spirits take a special delight in leading people to walk in on each other, and are equally content if it results in crushing embarrassment, spontaneous makeouts, or lethal retribution. And so it is, through combination of their wiles and the assistance of Annalee's curse, that you find the werewolf Margot in the state she's in when you enter the locker room.

She's on her knees. Staring up at you worshipfully. Overcome with the intensity of your presence, the recognition of your divinity, brought low by your mere approach, dripping wet and wrapped only in a towel. (The fact that she's down there because she dropped a contact lens and her stunned gaze is because she literally can't make out your face amidst the steam and poor lighting is a detail left for academics to consider)

And, true, he doesn’t look like a prince yet. That comes later, usually after rescuing him, nursing him back to health, and breaking whatever spell’s been put on him. (Protocol for spell-breaking: Kiss him frequently, in as many situations as possible. Process of elimination. You’ll get it eventually.)

But none of that matters right now! A good hunter thinks in the moment! There’s a helpless, despairing prisoner here with great hair and no idea how near hope is for him.

What do you do?

Carmen Rakam, blade of the Nocturne, has not spent her past week as a pig idle. She has spent it in dedicated training! She has spent it learning the ways of the porcine form, the martial arts that are made possible only when gifted with an inhuman form. Have you ever seen a pig do a backflip? There is a lot that goes into it! And now it is time for a few days of training to pay off!

Armed as she was with the conviction of an elite hunter, the power of love, and a 65% chance that she was doing the right thing, Carmen Rackam charged Annalee with the intention to send her tumbling down the stairs.

[Annalee, keep your cool to hold your footing]

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
1 XP

The thing that looms out of the mist of the showers is the sort of thing that emerges from the bottom of bogs in order to fight heroes. It is the sort of thing that is dredged up by children who scream and see it in their nightmares for the rest of their lives. Its eyes are dull, chipped jade, darting and low; its face and body are caked with wet earth, and it smells like the underside of a rotting log. It trembles when it moves, losing circulation in its limbs from the wicked shadow claws of its assailant. Its triangles twitch.

When it moves, it is not with any practiced coquettishness. It peels away the last remnants of its ruined clothing with the single-minded purpose of a snake shedding its skin, and underneath is more clotted mud. The tatters slough to the wet tiles. It stands before Margot, its body heaving with every breath, then squatting suddenly. It cocks its head like a bird, before reaching out and stroking Margot’s cheek, as if trying to understand what a face is, what a person is. Its fingers leave smeared, trailing earth along Margot’s fine, downy cheek.

“Wash me,” it hisses. “Work me clean. Hold me fast.” Reward is only implicated. This is not how these stories go. Only once the monster has been transformed do we speak about dates or kisses or worship. The first thing that must be done is to obey the cryptic commands, or else you will be eaten, or cursed, or the like.

[Turned a 6 into a 7 on turning Margot on by stealing The Wild Hunt from the Fae. Gaia is at 2 Strings.]

[Keep cool 4+4+2=10]

Annalee, impatient with luxuriating on Elodie's bed, pulls the door open. Out jumps the pig and Annalee catches her in her arms and gives her a little noogie. "Who's a cute little pig, Carmen? Is it you? It is you! You're very cute." She lifts Carmen up and holds her, then gives her a hug because she is a cute little piggy and she deserves hugs. This is probably not going the way that Carmen expected, but Annalee is practically aglow so good is she feeling.

That does leave the little matter of Timothy Oglevee Crompton though. "Timmy dear" she says, turning Carmen around in her arms so that Timmy can look at the pig. "I asked you to watch this little fellow and what do I find when I open the door? She's running around loose and jumping all over the place. I appreciate your patience, you're welcome to come in now, but I think you need to explain yourself or you're going to be in a great deal of trouble."

[Question to the MC (from the 10+ cool roll): How could Annalee get Carmen to like her (and stop trying to kill her)?]

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
1 XP

The thing that looms out of the mist of the showers is the sort of thing that emerges from the bottom of bogs in order to fight heroes. It is the sort of thing that is dredged up by children who scream and see it in their nightmares for the rest of their lives. Its eyes are dull, chipped jade, darting and low; its face and body are caked with wet earth, and it smells like the underside of a rotting log. It trembles when it moves, losing circulation in its limbs from the wicked shadow claws of its assailant. Its triangles twitch.

When it moves, it is not with any practiced coquettishness. It peels away the last remnants of its ruined clothing with the single-minded purpose of a snake shedding its skin, and underneath is more clotted mud. The tatters slough to the wet tiles. It stands before Margot, its body heaving with every breath, then squatting suddenly. It cocks its head like a bird, before reaching out and stroking Margot’s cheek, as if trying to understand what a face is, what a person is. Its fingers leave smeared, trailing earth along Margot’s fine, downy cheek.

“Wash me,” it hisses. “Work me clean. Hold me fast.” Reward is only implicated. This is not how these stories go. Only once the monster has been transformed do we speak about dates or kisses or worship. The first thing that must be done is to obey the cryptic commands, or else you will be eaten, or cursed, or the like.

[Turned a 6 into a 7 on turning Margot on by stealing The Wild Hunt from the Fae. Gaia is at 2 Strings.]

You've always wondered, Elodie, what it must be like to have a wish granted. What surreal sensation must occur when the world shifts the wind whispers and everything is different in the way that you wanted it to be. When you're not treated as a failure or a monster or as a trainee for a job you hate but instead as something...

The shower runs hot, as do the hands against what's on top of your skin, and then upon your skin. Mud tears like silk, sloughing off like a cocoon, taking everything wrong and broken away from you with each rush of water and thrilling brush of claws against neck and collarbone. Fur brushes fur and hot water catches in your devilishly pointed ears filling you with a swirling, warming, cleansing deafness. It is a complex thing to go through a transformation but it is a divine thing to be worshiped during the transition. Every branch and leaf removed an act of worship, every inch of your new form revealed and cleaned another misty shock of colour in the fogged mirror. Soon you stand alight in colour and wrapped around with silver white and muscle like iron.

When the mists fade, who is it now in the mirror?

[Healing applied by someone else, with intimate subtext: heal two harm]

[Keep cool 4+4+2=10]

Annalee, impatient with luxuriating on Elodie's bed, pulls the door open. Out jumps the pig and Annalee catches her in her arms and gives her a little noogie. "Who's a cute little pig, Carmen? Is it you? It is you! You're very cute." She lifts Carmen up and holds her, then gives her a hug because she is a cute little piggy and she deserves hugs. This is probably not going the way that Carmen expected, but Annalee is practically aglow so good is she feeling.

That does leave the little matter of Timothy Oglevee Crompton though. "Timmy dear" she says, turning Carmen around in her arms so that Timmy can look at the pig. "I asked you to watch this little fellow and what do I find when I open the door? She's running around loose and jumping all over the place. I appreciate your patience, you're welcome to come in now, but I think you need to explain yourself or you're going to be in a great deal of trouble."

[Question to the MC (from the 10+ cool roll): How could Annalee get Carmen to like her (and stop trying to kill her)?]

There are very pure motives behind the demon hunter's attacks: courage, honour, defense of the weak and vulnerable and hot. Corrupting motives that pure are trivial. You've got the very clear sense that if you played the part of a vulnerable and benevolent sorceress who'd cure her curse and said the words 'honour' and 'oh no, we Mustn't' a lot then you'd wrap her heart up in a little bow and have a deadly assassin at your beck and call. Curing the curse isn't a complicated thing either, it's been going for a while and a lot of the magic has worn off, so you'd just be speeding it along to its conclusion.

JEALOUS
DEFINITELY HEXED
CRYBABY
CRUEL

...you know, perhaps it was the long day (or night?), perhaps it was his eyes playing tricks on him, perhaps it was the glasses still stowed safely in his pocket, but he could've sworn that pig did a backflip en route to Annalee's arms.

[Keep cool 4+4+2=10]

Annalee, impatient with luxuriating on Elodie's bed, pulls the door open. Out jumps the pig and Annalee catches her in her arms and gives her a little noogie. "Who's a cute little pig, Carmen? Is it you? It is you! You're very cute." She lifts Carmen up and holds her, then gives her a hug because she is a cute little piggy and she deserves hugs. This is probably not going the way that Carmen expected, but Annalee is practically aglow so good is she feeling.

That does leave the little matter of Timothy Oglevee Crompton though. "Timmy dear" she says, turning Carmen around in her arms so that Timmy can look at the pig. "I asked you to watch this little fellow and what do I find when I open the door? She's running around loose and jumping all over the place. I appreciate your patience, you're welcome to come in now, but I think you need to explain yourself or you're going to be in a great deal of trouble."

[Question to the MC (from the 10+ cool roll): How could Annalee get Carmen to like her (and stop trying to kill her)?]

Timothy Oglevee Crompton lacked the necessary fortitude to take his abuse while standing. He sat there against the wall, knees curled to his chest, eyes bright red with tears, as pig and witch towered over his pitiable form.

Steady on, old chap. It's been a hellish - sorry, sorry, an infernally difficult time of it, but the end is in sight. Take your lumps, keep your head down, and excuse yourself to your room as soon as possible. You can manage just a little farther, right?

"I don't see why I should. You haven't needed a reason to curse me before." he groused, sourly wiping at his eyes.

...no. No, I suppose we can't. Brilliant.

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
1 XP

In the mirror sits an idol. Her skin is the pale, glossy glow of heartwood, and her dark hair is tipped with pink that is now less neon and more the pale blush of a morning rose. Her eyes, downcast, flicking here and there, are the startlingly vivid green of grass. Poking up through her hair are two russet-red ears, decadently fluffy. She is a holy thing to be worshipped and praised, even as her shoulders hunch and her fingers curl nervously.

“You did an amazing job,” Elodie says. Don’t thank her. Don’t imply you’re in her debt, or she’s in yours. “Well done.” Her voice is steady. It should be shaking! It’s steady, warm as honey fresh from the hive.

She lets herself fall back into Margot’s arms, and smiles. Her teeth are shockingly white.

“Margot, have you ever thought about the earth we all live on?”

DARKEST SELF

Annalee looks quite taken aback (she turns Carmen so she'll notice too). "I did need a reason to curse you before, and that reason was that I was in the presence of a vampire. I mean really, Timmy, I was interrupting your one on one session with that vampire the other night, you're being very silly not remembering. Unless today was a big act, you obviously don't want to be with him, so I'd think you'd be more grateful!" She gives a slight huff.

"Yes, I did have to curse you at his request, but he's powerful and can hypnotize people, and I had to protect my own life once you'd escaped! Protecting life is the most important thing there is, Timmy! And really, I can use magic, but it's not very different from little Carmen here..." she hefts Carmen for emphasis "who's spent years training to be able to fight monsters and has picked up lots of skills and powers as a result. I'm sure she could manage a few curses with the right enchanted item, herself. And I'm sure that if you all come inside I can help lift her curse and we can sort this all out. Now there's a good boy, hmm?" She leans over and lifts Timmy's chin a little so he can look in her eyes and see what an honest, pure soul she's being.

CRUEL
DEFINITELY CURSED
CRYBABY
JEALOUS
NO TOUCH ME IM ANGY

DARKEST SELF

Annalee looks quite taken aback (she turns Carmen so she'll notice too). "I did need a reason to curse you before, and that reason was that I was in the presence of a vampire. I mean really, Timmy, I was interrupting your one on one session with that vampire the other night, you're being very silly not remembering. Unless today was a big act, you obviously don't want to be with him, so I'd think you'd be more grateful!" She gives a slight huff.

"Yes, I did have to curse you at his request, but he's powerful and can hypnotize people, and I had to protect my own life once you'd escaped! Protecting life is the most important thing there is, Timmy! And really, I can use magic, but it's not very different from little Carmen here..." she hefts Carmen for emphasis "who's spent years training to be able to fight monsters and has picked up lots of skills and powers as a result. I'm sure she could manage a few curses with the right enchanted item, herself. And I'm sure that if you all come inside I can help lift her curse and we can sort this all out. Now there's a good boy, hmm?" She leans over and lifts Timmy's chin a little so he can look in her eyes and see what an honest, pure soul she's being.

Timothy Oglevee Crompton did not want to be touched right now.

Timothy Oglevee Crompton really ought to have considered that before backsassing a witch while being a sad lump on the ground. Rather limited mobility options, that. He couldn’t really pull away, and his arms were all tangled with his legs and totally unsuitable to brushing her off. At best, he could just. Sort of look cross while wriggling slightly in discomfort.

Not quite the figure of stern defiance. But, perhaps, to a certain cursed hunter, the unintentional picture of bravery in the face of a towering foe?

“‘So, if you want Elly there, be sure to knock off Timmy when you’re done with us.’” He replied, in a passably pitched impression of Annalee’s voice. “So, did Samael make you say that too? I didn’t see him down in the caves with us. Oh, but I was a touch distracted by the murderous werewolf you were egging on, so I must have missed him. How careless of me.”

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
1 XP

In the mirror sits an idol. Her skin is the pale, glossy glow of heartwood, and her dark hair is tipped with pink that is now less neon and more the pale blush of a morning rose. Her eyes, downcast, flicking here and there, are the startlingly vivid green of grass. Poking up through her hair are two russet-red ears, decadently fluffy. She is a holy thing to be worshipped and praised, even as her shoulders hunch and her fingers curl nervously.

“You did an amazing job,” Elodie says. Don’t thank her. Don’t imply you’re in her debt, or she’s in yours. “Well done.” Her voice is steady. It should be shaking! It’s steady, warm as honey fresh from the hive.

She lets herself fall back into Margot’s arms, and smiles. Her teeth are shockingly white.

“Margot, have you ever thought about the earth we all live on?”

There is reverence there, a glowing spiritual light that ignites around her head, her soul already responding to your interrogation. You can see that she's ready. Even though her words are, "Uh, what? The earth? What?" you can tell that Gaia has already prepared her for this moment! As a werewolf her spiritual connection is deeper than any other's!