Hidden 8 mos ago Post by King Cosmos
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Morgana Faith


It took a moment for the words to register with Morgana. The witch was still preoccupied with trying to puzzle together Mr X’s schemes, like if she rearranged the pieces enough times the full picture would finally become apparent.

When they did, she turned towards Amanda and gave the android and incredulous look, her eyebrows rising high enough to be obscured by the brim of her hat. Demanding.” She accepted the letter with a little more force than necessary, snatching it out of the woman’s hand as soon as it was within reach. Sharp eyes skimmed over the text, but none of the words made it past the fog of Morgana’s building temper. “Well, I suppose we’re both done with pretences.”

A flick of the witch’s wrist saw a magic circle forming in the air below the letter, a second before the paper ignited and Morgana let go of the page to let it be consumed by flames that disappeared as soon as there was nothing left to burn.

“It has been a while since I last spoke to her. Perhaps I should pay her a visit.”

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Arriving at the Faith Manor was relatively uneventful. Amanda and Madeleine knew that solving this quandary is important, especially considering Morgana's relationship with her mother. The android herself has a silent feeling that this confrontation between Morgana and Angelica is going to be borderline cataclysmic, she can already see the simmering conflict brewing within Morgana throughout her time with her, but the fact that her mother sent that letter and practically goading Morgana to come back to her family’s manor is undeniable.

They not only have beef, but they have a history with each other, and not the typical family history type of deal, some serious disagreements can only end in one way. And gods in heavens does Amanda hope she’s wrong about all this.

Madeleine opted to stay back in Germany and help out with deciphering some of the evidence they have collected, with Xaviron volunteering to do the same, so it’s only Amanda, Faye, Micheal, and Morgana going to England to solve this small (not small) family dispute. Personally, Amanda thinks that both Xaviron and Madelelne are a bit too afraid of potentially assaulting a witch’s coven, buuut she’s not going to mention that considering how close they are to cracking this Mr X case wide open.

The manor of the Faith family looks subdued, but filled with history. The overgrown walls, the centuries-old architectural style, and the ever-present stone walls and gardens that surround the house. it is a veritable aristocratic house, but its compact size indicates some tactfulness and… restraint she doesn’t see in a lot of the traditional manors and mansions she’s seen in her database.

In short? This is the house of someone who wants to stand out, but not too much for fear of something else. A product of the incredibly complicated history of magic in Europe perhaps, or maybe it’s because the Faith family has grown attached to this house after centuries of habitation. She doesn’t know herself.

But that is a question for another time. Right now, she has a job to do, and that job entails a deep analysis of the house. While she can see some defenses in the house like visible rune circles and outward-facing lightbulbs that are conveniently strategically placed, she doesn’t really know the magical side of things in this house. And with that, she turned towards Faye and Micheal for help.

“Yo, Mikey. Can you send one of your deities to analyse the back end of the house? But make it, like, subtle and unobtrusive, we have to know what kind of problems we might be potentially facing should things go south between Morgana and her mom. Faye, just analyse the front, see if there are Fae influences or any other type of magical traps/ defenses that we should be aware of.”

They are about to enter into a Witch’s coven centuries old, and with a Head witch that has a lot of problems with one of the members of her team. The only thing that she wants right now is to have her brothers and sisters from the facility to back her up. Her ‘species’ may lack magic, but they more than made up for it in combat ability and firepower. Something Amanda needed now more than ever.

“Ugh, let’s hope we don’t end up all captured or something. That would massively suck.” Amanda commented as Faye and Micheal do their thing. “What about you Morgana? What do you expect your mother would do?”

The Android internally ordered her arm guns to turn off their safety switches, and an almost imperceptible signal could be detected from her processing unit towards the suitcase she was holding on her left arm, the Axe inside was pretty much primed to unfold should Amanda need it’s assistance once again.
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As Faye listened to Morgana and Micheal (or better... his friends, since Micheal was still exhausted from using too much of his power), one thing became worryingly clear for her. They had little to no information about Mr. X. Just as Morgana said, all the information they had was... scattered. The idea that Mr. X might be a deity was nothing more than that, an idea. Besides that, all the things they have faced until now could only be assumed as having a direct link to Mr. X and even when they did so, the purpose for his actions was still unknown.

Truth be told, it was... improbable that Mr. X was a deity. If he was though, it would be the worst case for them, but at least until now, every situation that was proved, or at least assumed to be linked to Mr. X could be done by a normal person... Assuming they were VERY influential and powerful though... Which would help them somewhat to try and discover his true identity.

Surprisingly enough, right in the middle of their conversation, Faye felt a strange magic coming from the table, just besides Morgana. While not anything that she could perceive as being harmful, it has a weird... 'pressure' to it. Not like a god's, but a pressure nonetheless. A brief moment later, a letter suddenly appeared on top of the desk.

"A letter?" Faye asked curiously as Amanda grabbed the letter, before quickly blinking behind Amanda, getting on the tip of her toes to look over Amanda's shoulders and trying to read it.

Amanda's words as she turned to Morgana made Faye a bit confused. Even though Faye herself had certain... circumstances regarding her relationship with her family, a letter from them asking to go back home, even if for a visit, wouldn't be something THAT bad. But both the tone of the letter and both Amanda and Morgana's reactions made Faye think that there was more to that letter than just a family reunion.

Faye's hypothesis would show itself to be true a bit later. It seemed like Morgana and her mother didn't really have the best relationship and in order to solve it, so they could continue their mission, they all would have to visit Morgana's family to try and solve the issue.

"No problem! Considered it's a witch's house, I would be honestly surprise if it didn't." Faye said as she began walking around the front of the mansion, searching for any magic, be it a trap or not that could be there.

"Witches can be quite... tricky and difficult to deal with. Very much like the Fae, to be fair!" Faye said, laughing a bit

"In a certain way, their relationship can either be very good or incredibly bad... Normally I would not fear being captured or restrained but... Witches, especially on this part of the world, are quite accustomed with dealing with Fae... Fae are attracted by magic after all. For a witch, not being able to appease Fae in order to avoid their 'playful' tricks... Or knowing a way to outright prevent them from approaching would mean she would most likely never be able to get anything done with the Fae's interference. In the other hand, should a Witch be able to appease them, she would likely be able to trade with them... or even receive gifts of some pretty rare magic reagents." Faye said after she heard Amanda's words, hoping they wouldn't be captured.

"In the other hand... There are those who prefer hunting and capturing Fae..." Faye said with a grim tone.

"Even if my powers can be very hard to restrain and deal with, given their origin, I wouldn't be too surprised if the witches here had a way to interfere on my abilities..." Faye finished in a bit more serious tone. It was easy to see Faye was indeed being quite careful. Normally she wouldn't hesitate in just blinking around and just going inside to check for stuff but instead of doing that, Faye seemed to be careful with every step she was taking. Lest she fell on some kind of trap.

"Is your relationship with your mother really this bad? I mean... She's still your mother, right? She wouldn't harm you or your friends... I hope..." Faye said with an awkward chuckle to Morgana, adding to what Amanda asked regarding what Morgana's mother was capable and willing to do against them.
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Morgana Faith


Seeing her family home again after what was almost a decade of estrangement was… a hard experience to define. It was a familiar sight, she supposed, but none of the memories she associated with the manor were what Morgana would particularly call ‘happy’; there was no nostalgia, no longing to stroll through the doors and walk its halls, venture into its rooms and see if everything was the same as she had left it.

When she had left before Morgana had done so with the full intent of cutting herself off from her family forever; she had expected to never see this place again. There had been a sense of finality to it that now left her feeling detached from the sight she was seeing. It was her childhood home, and it wasn’t at the same time; she had forsaken it long ago.

Now, it was just puzzle to be solved in order for them to progress with this case.

Truth be told, once it became clear that her mother had some kind of connection to this case Morgana had given some thought to how one might go about breaching those defences. However, between the mess with the spirit and then the assault on the cultist camp and then their quick journey back to the UK and now here there hadn’t been much spare time for her to devote towards the task, meaning her progress was disappointing. She had not been privy to every enchantment and protection placed on the property, having left home when she was still in her late teens, but she had been told about some as a necessity of her own safety, had figured others out herself during her tutoring as a child and had theories about the rest.

Morgana was quite well versed in protective wards, seals and similar such magics; some of her ideas around the type of protections her mother and their descendants would employ came about as a by-product of her own knowledge rather than a conscious effort to breach her family’s manor. She knew what types of wards worked best, their advantages and disadvantages, their places of origin and so on. She knew what kinds of magic her family tended to favour and where those two areas of knowledge overlapped. She could surmise what she herself would have chosen and assume the same of those that came before her.

Knowledge of wards came with knowledge of how to penetrate said wards; what their weaknesses were and when not to use them. Or at least it should, if the one casting them had any kind of intelligence. That did not necessarily mean that she could break them, just that she theoretically knew how.

“Before anyone heads off to start poking around, I’ll give you the same warning I gave Madeleine when we approached the cultist’s camp. Any attempts to scry beyond the exterior of the building will be useless; perhaps your deities can manage something, perhaps not.” Useless, but not unsuccessful in the traditional sense. Witches had learned long ago that it was far more efficient to redirect efforts rather than try to block them; trying to scry inside the building would be successful, but show you nothing more than the surface of a reflective glass orb suspended in some unobtrusive corner of the building.

“Any defensive wards on the building will be old, powerful, malicious and reactive. Simply attempting to perceive them will trigger a response, so if you aren’t absolutely certain you can defend against or subvert a curse intended to harm or even kill, do not approach the boundary of the building itself; not even with your magic.” At the cultist camp Morgana had determined that they would not be using wards, as the kind that witches used tended to be large workings intended for long term use. A temporary base like the camp would not be worth warding, but the Faith family manor? The seat of their coven’s power for the past few centuries? The wards would have been established around the same time the foundations had been set, the magic would have sunk into the earth and taken root.

“Normally I would strongly advise against crossing any kind of threshold, but in this situation that may actually be our best bet. The wards around the entranceways can be raised to prevent anyone from crossing, even my mother, but given the invitation and the fact that mother would never deign to imprison herself, I believe the door are safe to cross.” Or perhaps not and her mother was simply hoping she would die as soon as she tried to set foot in her childhood home; Morgana would give even odds towards the wards imbued in her coat either saving her life or failing entirely should that be the case. But she had a feeling that was not what her mother had planned here. It simply wouldn’t be her style to set such a mundane and impersonal trap, even if harming her was her intent.

Morgana turned to Faye “We’re estranged. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years, though she has certainly spoken at me in that time. I don’t believe she would hurt me, yet. I can’t say the same for you.” Then again, it wasn’t like she had ever expected her mother to throw her lot in with whatever Mr X was either, so who was to say if her judgement was accurate or not? “I would suggest against trying to teleport inside the building; you won’t arrive where you are expecting to and there’s a chance you won’t be able to teleport out afterwards.” Redirect your enemies efforts, rather than attempt block them outright. “My family has never hunted or harmed the Fae to my knowledge, but unwanted guests were certainly never tolerated.”

Then she turned to Amanda. “I can’t say what my mother would do; I never expected her to be involved in this in the first place. It would depend on whether or not she intends to play coy and pretend ignorance, or if she is willing to go public with her involvement in… whatever this all is.” The former would be immensely frustrating, the latter could be deadly. “Those runes are new; they shouldn’t be visible like that, which suggests they are newly laid and haven’t been properly synched with the existing protections yet. They look like standard strengthening wards though; the manor’s defences have always been directed towards more esoteric threats, rather than those that my family would consider mundane.”

In other words… “The windows aren’t bullet proof and the doors aren’t reinforced. Those runes are meant to rectify that. They aren’t yet complete.”

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A Healing Shaman...and his dancing deities


Micheal had spent the time traveling all the way to England, Jolly ol England and all that,home to the people who oppressed his peoples for a good long time back in thr day. He kept his mouth closed upon arriving. Nine of the people today had anything to do with the forced marches, tribal massacres or small pox blankets. But like hereditary memories almost Micheal had to really work. Even if the Shamanic rules taught peace and inclusion hundreds it not thousands of years of suffering still leaves an imprint.

Mikey made his way along with the team, rubbing at his arm occasionally and getting swatted on the back ofnthe head by Manabozho. Whiskeyjack muttering ,"No scratching" Micheal sighs and nods,"Yeah yeah..." As they came up to the house. Micheal looked up at it, "You know always wondered what annold world villa would look like...and here is see it."

After abit Boss Bot asked for his friends help. He looked over at them, "Well?" The trio bristled and Raven geumbled, "We can be subtle." Micheal quirked an eyebrow curiously. And Manabozho coughed a little, "We can..." He said without much confidence. Micheal sniffed Go then and report what you find. I'll believe you if you can do it without any problems. I know all too well how much you and the other tricksters like to make noise." Whiskeyjack blinked, "Oy! We can be quiet and subtle you'll see!" And then the trio trotted off.

Micheal grinned, "I think that worked out."
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She didn’t know what happened. It all happened so fast, and she didn’t expect the witches to move with such speed and precision. It’s like the matron mother of the Faith family decided that their presence is such a threat that they need to be silenced immediately. At one moment, they were just checking out the entrance of the faith manor, examining the defenses, magical and otherwise, and devising a plan, the next moment. They were knocked out by some sort of spell that was cast at all 4 members of the party, and all she could see was darkness.

She woke up, her mind still woozy at the sudden knock-out spell she was subjected to, she tried to move her arm to at least acknowledge that her motor functions were working, but… strangely, her hands couldn’t move, quickly roused from her grogginess, Amanda realized that she is trapped. “Oh… damn.” She said. Looking at some of her restraints. She noticed that she was wearing a collar, a collar that prevented her from communicating with other Androids for help, and, adding to her problems. Her limbs are also stretched out, spread eagle style, and restrained by 4 massive metal tubes. Try as she might, she could not break her arm free from the restraints. “Well, this is annoying.” She quipped, looking for other people who might be able to help her, but only meeting fellow restrained OMR agents the further she looked.

The first person she looked at was Faye, and she was in a similar predicament. A collar that was inhibiting her magical abilities was in place, while she was wrapped in manacles and chains all around her. She also looked at the composition of the metal itself. The collar on her might inhibit communication, but it doesn’t inhibit her from going into her internal database and analyzing what is in front of her, and she was surprised. “Low radiation steel huh…” Amanda posited. It does make sense, low background radiation steel has… well, low background radiation, and is comparatively ‘cooler’ compared to the metals used in most stuff nowadays, a consequence of the nuclear age perhaps. “Hey, Faye! Are you okay?” Amanda asked. “Just hold tight ok? I’m trying to devise a-”

Her sentence was cut short when she saw Mikey in a similar predicament. The man himself is tied down with magically enhanced weights, making any effort from the Shaman essentially futile, she also saw the three gods restrained heavily as well, and only a glancing look from her is enough to confirm that even his accompanying deities would not be getting out of those cages by themselves. “Fuck. Seems like we’re well and truly stuck huh?” She said to herself. “Wait… where’s Morgana?”

It didn’t take long for the Android as all of a sudden, all of their cages, seemingly hanging in the air, were all lowered, giving everyone a good look at the circular room they were all in, and a still unconscious Morgana Faith being prone in the center of it. “Morgana! Hey, Morgana!” Amanda tried calling out, but before she could get any sort of response. A bunch of witches suddenly materialized within the chairs and tables that surround the circular stage, seemingly like an audience for a play or something, the elevated seating also adds to the mood. “Uhh, can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

All of a sudden, a gag appeared on Amanda’s mouth, silencing the Android to ineffective mewls and grunts. She was first shocked but then frustrated by the inability to speak her words effectively. Never thought that I would see my mouth be gagged. She thought, now reduced to only looking as an older-looking woman strode towards the center of the circle. The older woman gives Amanda a very stern look once she determines Morgana’s condition. “I do not need some upstart, some thinking mechanical abomination created from the depths of the OMR to ask me any question.” She addressed her. “Nor do I appreciate the OMR using its heretical magicks and technology to create an aberration of the natural world such as yours… Amanda.” She can see the bile coming out from her mouth as she mentioned her name. Wait, how does she know my name in the first place? Something that I need to snoop on once we’re out of this mess.

“Wake up, daughter.” The woman then said towards the sleeping Morgana. “You and I have unfinished business, and I will not let a Faith family member be sleeping in the trial hall like so. Her loudness eventually awakened the sleeping witch. Such lack of discipline from the daughter of the great Angelica Faith, perhaps the OMR has softened your resolve yes? Mingling with all these heretical texts and whatever it is they call ‘doctrine’ over there?” She scoffed.

“I will admit. I half expected you to not come, perhaps I set the standard a bit too low now that we are here, but regardless. Considering that we are in the Trial Hall. You know what’s to come yes?” She asked Morgana, knowing how many times she had toured her daughter in these very halls.
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Normally, Faye would take the words of someone who was speaking highly about their own family with a grain of salt, but given Morgana's apparent 'troubled' relationship with her family, her words of warning did make Faye a bit worried. Old magic, especially the kind that was studied and improved upon by a generation of witches tended to be both powerful and treacherous... And according to Morgana's words, the spells and wards on her family's house seemed to be especially treacherous, even for a witch's standards. To make things even worse, Faye, being half-fae, was almost constantly in contact with magic. Her mere presence might be enough to trigger one of those wards Morgana mentioned.

"Should I just... wait outside? If even Morgana isn't totally sure her mother wouldn't hurt her, I don't think she would be any more gentler to us. Besides, I'm afraid my mere presence might be enough to trigger a few of those wards. You know... Being half-fae and all..." she mentioned, undeniably worried about what might happen.

While Faye didn't say it out loud, it was quite clear she didn't trust Morgana's previous declaration that much, that her family had never hunted or entered in conflict with the Fae. Even from outside, the magic weaved in the spells of that mansion both felt and looked VERY malicious, just as Morgana herself said.

Unfortunately, Faye's worries would quickly show to be very justified. In the very moment they decided to investigate the Faith manor a powerful magic pulse knocked Faye out. There was no time for reaction, even Faye who could feel and see magic, wasn't able to react in time. Whatever spell it was used, was one designed to be extremely effective at disabling it's target, leaving no time to reaction if they were caught by surprise.

Faye had no idea of how much time had passed nor of what had happened as she was being woken up by Amanda's voice calling her name. The moment she finally opened her eyes, Faye knew there was something very wrong. Her body felt heavy... So much that even lifting her head to look at Amanda proved to be difficult. Her very thoughts seemed to come to her so slowly that she took a minute to even realize that Amanda was asking if she was okay and a few more for her to realize that she was bound and chained. From the places the chains and shackles touched her, Faye felt a strange coldness to it. Almost as if the very heat from her body was being sucked out of her.

But what perhaps was the worst feeling for Faye was how... quiet, colorless and... 'silent' the world around her was. She couldn't feel any magic, the link she had with the magic permeating through all things was completely severed. For Faye, it was like having a part of her taken away from her. That horrible, terrible feeling from being cut off from magic was so bad that it was the only thing preventing Faye from closing her eyes and falling unconscious due to the weakness she felt.

"Amanda... Where... are we?" Faye said weakly as she slowly, and with great effort lifted her head to look at her.

"I feel... weak..." Faye replied.

"Wish I could close my eyes and... sleep... But when I do... I feel no magic... No connection to the world... I feel... Nothing... I wish I could close my eyes but I am afraid... Afraid of the darkness that comes with it..." Faye mumbled. Both thinking and speaking seemed to come at great cost to Faye due to the added effect of both the cold iron and the runes cutting her from magic. It seemed that both of them had such a great effect on her when used together that it took conscious effort from Faye's part to make her own words have any meaningful sense.

The light and sparkle that once were in her eyes was gone and her stare was fixed in the distance... Even as she looked towards Amanda, it was almost as if her stare went right through her. Faye could hear the voice of a woman on the background, someone else that wasn't Amanda. She could hear some familiar names, but they all seemed to be too far away, too blurred and difficult to distinguish for her to think about them at the moment.

A fae should always trust their instincts above everything else. A rule Faye had ignored when she decided to follow the others and enter the Faith Manor...
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mikey Mikey MIkey MIKey MIKEy MIKEY


Micheal had watched his friends head off to the back then looked around, without his magic he's just a set of muscles, in a pretty package. He takes a deep breathe and then starts to check the house out visually, "So this place is Morgana's families place huh? Dang girl you must have lived well for abit right?" He smiled a little over at Morgana, "Sorry if I'm touching old wounds. When I was a kid on the Rez, we all talked about living in really swanky and amazing homes someday, when we made it big somehow. This is one of those dreams I guess." He chuckles and shrugged.

He's stepping up curiously to the bottom of the stairs up to the front door, looking them over curiously.

He's not at all prepared when the others make their way up to the door. He waved, and then felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He grunted, not realizing that happened to be the connection he shared with Raven, Manabozho and Whiskeyjack. He staggers. Trying to catch himself on a statue at the side of the pathway up to the house. Micheal shook his head, "Guys...g...uh..." He took a step forward then everything went dark.

When he came too he's being held up by a T-shape of wood. He gave a grown and tried to move. Feeling weight. With a groan Micheal heaved his eyes open, then tried to take a step forward. And heard a clatter. He looked down.

His shout of, "What the hell!?"

Chains and weights hung off him, wrapped around his arms, waist, thighs and shoulders. And even with his magic low, he could feel the sapping effect on him. And right now, all he is, is a hefty powerful guy in a pretty package.

He looked around spotting Amanda, and Faye and the others about in other situations of distress, "What's goin...oh..." As the woman appeared, "Oh...okay that answers things..." He finished and pulled at his bindings.
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Morgana Faith


Waking up to the sound of her mother’s deprecations was never a pleasant experience and ranked somewhere in the top ten reasons why she had left home in the manner that she did. It was certainly unwanted to have to go through it again now, mostly because Morgana wasn’t supposed to be asleep at the moment and the fact that she was meant that something had gone wrong.

Well, Morgana had to commend who came up with that sleeping spell for its efficacy. The wards built into her hat were designed to protect against a wide range of sensory or mind altering effects and warn against several more, but she was always limited by the surface area she had available and had to make concessions; somnatic effects were one that she didn’t often deal with in the lab and were usually slow acting and obvious enough not to be an issue, and as such were one of those concessions.

This one had taken out everyone, even an android which was… concerning, in a matter of seconds. Morgana was begrudgingly impressed.
Credit where it was due she supposed.

Back to the matter at hand. Her mother chastised her for sleeping in the hall despite being the person to both put her to sleep and put her in the hall, which was just like her on all accounts, and while Morgana liked to believe she was above sniping back at such comments she frankly wasn’t and was irritable from the sudden bout of unconsciousness and equally sudden waking.

“God, did you just refer to yourself in the third person and call yourself great in the same sentence? Did whatever sense of decorum you possessed up and leave when you started trading trinkets to third-rate cults or did it flee this place the same time I did?”

Pushing herself to her feet and brushing imaginary dust off of her skirt, just to vex her mother at the implication that the floor was dirty, Morgana took a moment to survey the room and take stock of her situation before her mother could respond.

She was indeed in a hall; the hall in fact, which meant things were about to be more difficult than she had hoped. The rest of the team, Amanda, Faye and Michael were bound and restrained in various ways and though she didn’t have time to do a proper analysis she was certain that each was being held in a way matched to their abilities; cold iron for the fae-blooded girl, something to jam the android’s ability to radio for help, something to contain the shaman’s friends for a while. Unless one of them could pull something, she was on her own.

Her mother was not. Beyond the centre of the hall several dozen witches sat at tables and chairs as if what was going on was nothing more than a show put on for their entertainment. They were not all Faiths of course, even her entire extended family wouldn’t fill all of those seats, but they would all be affiliated with her mother’s faction in some way; members of lesser families sworn to hers, individuals of high standing and so on. All her to see her mother’s supposed moment of triumph no doubt, at her invitation, though more than a few would be hoping to see her downfall instead.

“Yes, yes; I do remember some of your silly traditions. How about you explain to our audience anyway? Some of them haven’t had the pleasure before.”




Angelica could only sigh at the quips her daughter gave to her. A shred of pity and perhaps, sadness envelops Angelica as she shakes her head. “Dearest Morgana. You and I well know that witches nowadays are becoming less and less important in this new world our ‘dearest’ deific overlords are creating. And a not insignificant amount of witches all across Britain are in agreement that something has to change. For too long we have been victims of persecution and hypocrisy! For too long have we’ve been put onto the sidelines. NO MORE! Our benefactor has shown the way for us at the Faith family… nay! All witches throughout the world, to regain our prominence on the world stage!”

She knew that convincing some of the witches in her cause would make it harder for Morgana to rescue the rest of the group even if she wins. A bit of manoeuvring and insurance if she loses. “Do we need to bow down to this initiative formed by far away Americans and Russians? Do we need to bow down to an organisation that has finished its mandate of killing the Abomination? I say NO fellow witches.”

“We have been pushed to the fringes of society. Had to pretend to be mere folk healers and wise women and meet under cover of night like criminals to keep the authorities that be happy. And what has that given us? Persecutions? Burnings? Nearly killing the tradition of witchcraft entirely? Why must we stalk in the shadows any longer sisters? It is time for all of us to come to the light! Freedom at last! From the Kings and Emperors of yore, and to the stifling bureaucracy of the OMR. I chant Freedom my fellow witches!”

She cleared her throat, her conclusion was coming fast. “And as we stand here. In this great hall of trials. I hereby challenge you! Morgana Faith, to a duel, a duel of honour and privilege, with all these Witches as witnesses. The victor of this duel shall be named head of the Faith family! And the loser? Well, that is up to the victor to decide wouldn’t it?” Not willing to wait any further. Angelica pulled out her wand and fired a burst of various magical bolts, from fireballs to ice arrows to pure holy light, and aimed it at her daughter. She is done playing games with her, and these multiple beams would serve as a test to see what kind of enchantments her daughter has made to the jacket she wore. Angelica knew that her clothing was enchanted to the brim, but she needed to know what kind of enchantment Morgana weaved into the fabric to find a way to counter them.

Let’s see if my daughter’s time in that wretched organisation has made her more adept in magic She thought as the various bolts whizz towards the Witch.




What a farce.

A duel for the head of the Faith family? Wasn’t the prize for winning supposed to be something you wanted? Or at least valued? Even if Morgana managed to win, it wasn’t like any of the witches present would just accept her edict to turn themselves in and stop this foolishness. It was either lose and most likely die, or win and then have to combat the vultures waiting in the wings.
Well, the latter was still better than the former, so it was in her best interests to win this.

So she said, but it wasn’t like besting her mother in single combat was going to be easy. For all that Morgana derided her, Angelica Faith was one of the most powerful witches in Britain, possibly all of Europe, while Morgana, as she continued to think to herself, was not cut out for field work. She had made her preparations for a fight but had done so with the expectation that she would be standing behind a military-grade android during said fight. All she had were her warded clothing, which had thankfully been left on her person, but that was not as reassuring as one might think.

It was a simple and unassailable fact that you couldn’t ward against everything. Oh you could try, as many had in the past, you may even get close, but there was no such thing as a perfect ward; different types of spell and energies required different counter measures, something that would stop magically conjured fire would fail to stop a lightning bolt, a flung rock would pass straight through something designed to protect against something as esoteric as holy magic and curses from one continent were all but unrecognisable compared to curses from another.

Warding against one type of threat was simple, warding against two was more complicated but still well-trodden ground at this point while against three or four or five was something that was often the purview of specialists in the trade. You couldn’t just slap wards on top of each other and call it a day; they would conflict, interfere with each other and cancel each other out at best, turn against each other and create a feedback loop of cascading responses at worst. Each additional ward had to be carefully woven in with the rest, melding two separate and sometimes contradictory effects together, layering them with complimentary overlapping parts so that they worked together and built off of each other to greater effect rather than trying to eat each other. Like trying to write two stories onto the same page, the words of one written on top of the other, arranging them so that the page could be both of them and a new third story all at the same time, without making a single letter illegible.

Her mother fired at least four distinct magical effects at her with her first volley; fire and ice and lightning and holy light all at the same time. The wards on her coat could handle two of those; electricity was a common hazard even of the non-magical variety and warding herself against the coldest element just seemed sensible. The fire she caught with her hand, the shield that she had used to absorb and redirect the fireball of the cultist a couple days prior still present. The last she had to dodge, a less than graceful side-step taking her out of the path of the holy light that she had honestly never expected to be on the receiving end of.

Really, that just seemed like cheating. She knew for a fact her mother only attended church when appearances demanded it of her.
Morgana sent the fire back at her mother with a flick of her wrist, but didn’t even bother to hope that it would do anything. For what was likely meant to be a probing attack, it gave her mother far too much information about the kind of defences she had at her disposal; it exposed her lack of preparations towards holy magic for one, but Morgana was hedging her bets on her mother not being well versed in that kind of magic to begin with. Angelica was no saint after all.

“I’d prefer if you kept any talk about politics out of this duel; I’ve never had much interest in it.” Which may have been a mistake; perhaps she could have seen this coming if she had paid more attention to proceedings related to witchcraft and the wider actions of the OMR. Not that Morgana believed witches were really being intentionally marginalised or pushed aside, but the inexorable tide of progress wasn’t always kind of traditionalists, of which her mother was certainly one. It was certainly true that historically witches had suffered an undue amount of persecution at the hands of the powers that be, often in the form of churches and kings; it wouldn’t really be that hard to stir up trouble by latching on to existing tensions and resentment among their number. Still, for her mother to be leading the charge was surprising.

She’d thought the woman smart, if nothing else.

“I thought you’d know better than to listen to strange men who promised you the world if only you did something for them first. This ‘benefactor’ must have made quite the convincing argument.”
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Hidden 6 mos ago Post by Kumbaris
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The Android could only watch as the two witches engaged in a duel for the fate of their family. A litany of spells, counterspells, and curses whizzed around, the Android too ignorant of the Magical World to ever notice the nuances of the spells being cast about by both Morgana and her mother. It truly was a spectacular sight, and she knew that both witches were extremely talented individuals, but to see a witch’s duel with her own two eyes was something she didn’t think she’d see in her lifetime.

As much as she knew the direness of the situation, and the need to get out of her bonds. The Android was nonetheless quite… thankful that she managed to see such an event occur, considering the stakes of this fight though, the Android has made it a priority to get out of her bonds and help Morgana all the best she can. If only there was a way to get the gag out of her mouth. Then she could help Morgana, or at least give her some encouragement as she would try to free herself from the Metal Tubes they’d stuck her into.

Gods not having the ability to call for reinforcements sucks…

She could only watch as the witches duel the hell out of each other. Morgana and her mother slinging spells like it was nothing. She could also see the strategy Morgana and Angelica were playing around, like a chess game where one wrong move could result in your immediate death. It is fascinating, and Amanda could do nothing but watch. Or so she thinks.

The gag on her mouth is shut tight, but… perhaps not as tight as she’d expected, there is some wiggle room, and if she could move the gag just a little bit, just try to have her mouth open for a little bit, then she could probably do something, at the very least, annoy the ever living hell out of Angelica, and perhaps give Morgana the opening she needed to win the duel.

It will be deliberate, and it will be slow. But hopefully she could get the gag free and do at least something…
Hidden 6 mos ago Post by BigPapaBelial
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MIKEY MIKEy MIKey MIkey Mikey mikey
...is there and echo in here?


No fun, that's what this is. Not even a little. From where he stands chained and weighted in place Micheal can see his diefic friends laid out in repose. Out cold having been bespelled and bound. Likely by the mistress of the house.

And now he can see the fight beginning. And even if his magic wasn't dammed up by that magic burn on his arm, he rather thinks he'd be no help in the moment. His magic would be far too slow to get any use here.

So he does the next best thing.

Any chance he gets, he pulls and rattles on his fetters. Trying to distract Angelica at any turn. He pulled and hauled, at one point managing to hurl one of the weights free of the chain it clung to at her feet. Sheer strength alone the only thing he could add to the moment. Those days at the gym sure pay off today. He grins abit and shouts, "Come on Amanda. You can do this! You're the strongest non-shaman I've ever met. Paste her! I know you can do it!"

He cackled a little as one of the witches gathered glared at him, "Take a picture hunny. It'll last longer." Okay so that's an old one, can't blame him right?
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Hidden 6 mos ago Post by 13org
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Interactions: Amanda @Kumbaris, Micheal Crane @BigPapaBelial, Xaviron @Martian, Morgana @King Cosmos




While it was true Faye wasn't wounded or in any immediate danger, for someone with Fae blood, especially her, who was basically a hybrid, being trapped in such manner and completely cut off from magic was extremely cruel. A torture one could not hope to escape from. At least not alone. With that said, despite Faye's struggle, she could still hear in the background Morgana and another woman having a heated exchange.

"Please... I did nothing... Wrong..." Faye said, weakly as the iron chains rattled very faintly as she used the little energy she still had to draw attention to her weak and low voice... As she herself knew trying to free herself was not an option.

Even though she knew deep down that the best she could do was to trust Morgana and her friends, every second she remained in those chains seemed to last hours for her. For a family who did never capture or engaged in conflicts with the Fae, why would they employ such cruel means to trap them? Did the Faith family even care of how much suffering those bindings caused Faye or any Fae-blooded creature?

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Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by King Cosmos
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Angelica could only smile as Morgana returned the firebolt towards her. Redirecting the firebolt to land on the ground, conveniently hitting a brazier and setting it on fire. The statue of Hecate behind it turned from a dead reflection of the goddess into a seemingly silent observer, whether that was a deliberate flare for Angelica or convenient happenstance would forever remain a mystery.

Morgana also seems to be weak towards Holy Magic. An unfortunate possibility for Angelica as she thinks of her future moves. She is weak towards Holy Magic, sure. But as Morgana expected, that is not an area of expertise on Angelica’s part. She needed something much more subtle, more quiet. At that point, however, a thought came towards the elderly witch. And she smiled. Yes. That can work She thought. Deciding, counterintuitively, to sit down, her legs crossed as she started casting something small. Small and barely noticeable even to the most skilled magic users. Light flashes of purple and white seemingly going out like fireworks out from her hand. And at the end of it all, the flashes stopped.

The spell is ready. All she needs to do is provoke Morgana to act first, and make her think too emotionally instead of strategically. That would increase the chances of her plan working out. “Dearest Morgana. May I ask you a question? Why did you run away from this household? I know the reasons may vary daughter. Perhaps you wanted to explore other types of magic, perhaps you wanted to meet other people from other backgrounds in life? All very understandable reasons. But perhaps… you just felt that you would never be able to achieve the heights of your mother, and you ran because you needed the approval of some faraway, distant organisation that wouldn’t understand you. An organisation that will provide you with value, purpose, and direction in your otherwise unremarkable and unfulfilling life? Makes sense, you did ran away with your Witch’s Hat after all…

“Also, pray tell. Why did you always send me your research papers daughter? They are impressive papers, yes, but I am very sure the gods and fellow researchers at the OMR would understand that. So why did you send that to me? Do you crave the feeling, the desire that we will welcome you back to the fold? Did you want to prove that you were doing something with your life? To me? To yourself? That you hadn't thrown everything away for nothing? You could have come back any time, all you had to do was admit your mistake. It feels… pathetic, really. Oh, and of course I always burned whatever papers you’d sent to my address to the firepit. No need to peruse whatever forbidden, and ultimately, useless knowledge you’d have stumbled upon that I don’t have existing knowledge over.

“Really. In truth, this little job of yours is a little bit of a farce, isn’t it? Heretical studies? Who named that? I remain convinced that the director of the OMR herself took one look at the name of that department and thought it so preposterous that she approved it. Just to see how you would ultimately disappoint your new bosses just like how you disappointed your family.”

The matriarch also heard some yapping from the cells, perhaps some of her newly acquired captives didn’t understand their place in this whole affair, she decided to ignore whatever voices were coming out from the hanging cages, and recentered her attention towards defeating Morgana.

There is enough going on around the matriarch that focusing her attention on someone wanting to distract her would be a major mistake on her part. Just one provocative move from Morgana is all she needs. And the tide of the fight would turn in her favour, slowly, but surely…




It was probably too much to hope that her mother would start a monologue about something useful; all of her plans, how she had reached this point and how to stop her for example. Instead the older witch settled down into a comfortable position and began to recite the tired old song that was her disappointment with her daughter.

A familiar tune this one, Morgana could almost hum along to it. How could she leave? Who would be the next head of the Faith family, if not her? Why waste her talents there? The verses differed but the chorus was always the same; come back home and we will start again from where we left off. It had been year since she has last heard it and to those who did not know either Morgana or her mother the words might almost sound like those of a loving family member. Witches had long been adept as tricking people after all, even each other; even themselves.
Morgana knew what her mother wanted wasn’t an heir or a daughter, it was a pawn; she hadn’t always, but she knew it now. They both did, and both left it unspoken, but only one of them thought the other still stupid enough to believe the lie.

Ah, but this time the words were different and the chorus never came. Doing away with pretences this time were they? Was her mother finally giving breath to the truth that had laid behind her teeth all of these years, the truth that Morgana had finally figured out when she stopped paying attention to the words and started paying attention to the woman? Weak, stupid, helpless little Morgana. Ran away from home because she couldn’t follow her lessons little Morgana. Hid from her mother because she didn’t want to be scolded little Morgana. Attention seeking, desperate for approval she couldn’t earn little Morgana. Your efforts are beneath my notice, your job is a farce that I refuse to take seriously and your work is a joke fit only for kindling. Little Morgana.

She had heard those words even when they were spoken aloud, buried under layers and layers of the pageantry that witches were so fond of. And now that they were spoken out loud for all to hear, all Morgana could do was smile.

Why?

It was an ugly thing; all bared teeth and not a spark of joy. Rather it seemed to be carved of pure, terrible vindication. Morgana’s hands rose and with two fingers the witch began to rapidly draw a complex circle in the air, one hand covering the wide, sweeping motions while the other filled in the finer details. Three concentric circles, the space between each forming a ring that was quickly turned from empty space into scrawling script of what appeared to be mostly Arabic but was almost certainly made of multiple languages at once. The centre was left blank until the last moment, but as the outer rings were completed that too was swiftly taken over by an assortment of lines that formed a shape of some kind that hurt the eyes to look at for too long.

“It’s quite simple really. I hate you. I’ve hated you since I’ve been old enough to understand the gravity of the word.”

It was not beyond her notice that her mother had been casting this entire time; the wards on her person might not protect her from curses, but they certainly burned in their presence enough to warn her of their presence, if not their nature. She was aware too, or the counter-spell her mother had woven around her that would make direct offense against her difficult to achieve.
At the moment, Morgana cared for neither of these facts.

Heedless of the warnings buzzing against her skin, Morgana snatched the magic circle out of the air by its centre, her fingers somehow intersecting with none of the drawn lines in the process, and slammed it onto the ground.

As the flare of magic faded and sunk into the stone it took all of the light in the room with it. The brazier lit before the statue of Hecate went dark, as did every other source of illumination in the room as the two witches, the awaiting audience and the captive were plunged into unnatural darkness and the next words Morgana spoke echoed around the room with no discernable source.

“And I wish to make a mockery of everything that you stand for.”

And at a point positioned right over her heart, the curse began its work.
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by BigPapaBelial
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He's still stuck...


Micheal grit his teeth and pulled.

And pulled again...

...and again!

The muscled native former hooligan shifted and moved and shook.

He panted and tried again, trying to get himself free!

But it's just not working right now. The chains and weights are too heavy. He could look over and see the team in their respective places. But the way he's pinned down he can't get to them. Can't get in there to help.

He wilts abit. What can he do? What power does he have at the moment to try and help? He has no magic, not with this burn. His goofy godly friends are down and out. He doesn't have his ritual equipment at hand. What could he possibly do?

And then, he relaxed, stopped pulling so much on the chains. Taking a deep breath.

And he started to sing. Letting his voice, no magic, no power. Just his voice, and his trust and faith in his friends and teammates to fill the air. As he sings he begins to perform the rounddance movementsin place.

The only thing he could do to show he's there, and he trusts, and hopes.
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Hidden 3 mos ago Post by King Cosmos
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While Angelica could only breathe some relief as the curse would activate and slowly kill her daughter. The matriarch of Morgana’s family is still perturbed by the sudden darkness that encroached on the hall itself. The statues of various mages that lined the hall suddenly could not be seen, and all details of the room beyond her immediate surroundings vanished, eaten by the darkness that Morgana had unleashed. Any lesser witch would’ve been a little bit frightened, perhaps flinched just for a second before regaining their composure. But Angelica is not that witch.

She knows that whatever Morgana is planning, she is on a clock doing so. And the best thing she could do is to make sure that her counterspell is ready, and wards are also in place in the event of Morgana quickly firing off some spells and curses her way. Her passive stance would also help her detect any potential slow-working curses that Morgana might’ve cast within the darkness.

It’s a bet, true. There are only so many vantage points Angelica could see within the darkness, but someone like her wouldn’t ascend to the position of Matriarch if she didn’t take risks. Any slight change in Morgana’s calculation, any potential deviation in what she expected from her daughter, and the scales could balance in her daughter’s favour.




After the darkness fell over the room, nothing immediately happened.

It was an unfortunate state of affairs that Morgana simply wasn’t very quick at casting her spells; mostly because she wasn’t casting spells at all in the traditional sense. Where other practitioners would cast spells directly by channelling their magical energies into the desired form, usually with some kind of somatic or verbal component, Morgana would draw a magic formation that was designed to produce a similar effect. It was slower, more prone to interruptions and mistakes, was more difficult and didn’t provide any noticeable benefits over the usual way of doing things other than being slightly more efficient.

She could cast spells the usual way of course; there was nothing stopping her from doing so. It was just that Morgana was frankly not very good at casting spells on the fly; at least not the kind of spells that would be useful in a combat situation. She’d never learned how to cast a fireball or a lightning bolt the usual way, because what use were spells like that in her line of work? If she needed fire she would draw a magic formation for it, tweaking it to produce a flame of the exact size and temperature that she wanted and giving it enough power to run itself while she focused on other things.

Very useful. Very versatile. But, unfortunately, slow.

So Morgana’s follow-up attack did not come immediately after the darkness fell. It instead arrived a few seconds later, when a fireball about the size of a basketball emerged from the gloom about a foot from her mother’s face.

A second one appeared with much less of a delay, right on the heels of the first and slightly to the right. Soon followed by a third in a similar fashion and a fourth right after, each of near identical size and velocity and heat of the first.

There was one benefit to magical formations after all. The effects of one were perfectly replicable should you create a second to the exact same specifications, which wasn’t at all the case when casting spells on the fly; slight variations in the casters condition, the magical energy they provided or even atmospheric conditions would cause deviations, minor as they were. That said, it was rather tedious to have to copy the same magical formation over and over again should you need to produce an effect more than once after all. Which was why the gloves Morgana has designed and created for herself did not just allow her to draw magic formations in thin air, it also allowed her to store and reproduce said formations repeatedly.

Simply copy and paste.

A sixth, seventh and eighth fireball followed the rest, now noticeably smaller and weaker than the first few.

There was a slight degradation to the effect that came with each replication. The duplicates were not perfect copies of the original by virtue of the fact that Morgana was not the one drawing them; magical formations always worked best for the one that drew them, which was why they could not be mass produced beyond the most basic and temporary effects. And as each replication was a copy of a copy of a copy, they degraded at an exponential rate.

It also lacked in versatility, as Morgana was throwing the same spell at her mother again and again in the most basic fashion. But it was very fast, as the ninth, tenth and eleventh fireballs headed out, each slightly to the right of the last as she circled the room. Fast and hopefully quite distracting.




Angelica did not expect the rapid succession of fireballs to suddenly come out from her daughter’s general direction, and she moved quickly and rapidly to prevent herself from getting burned by the Fireballs. They were simple spells, ones she knew well, but they moved fast, and they were perfect replicas of each other. So much so that by the tenth and eleventh fireball. Angelica was running ragged, with some fireballs hitting her directly. The only saving grace is her runes and wards preventing some actual damage on her skin.

The heat was unbearable, however.

And if Morgana intends to deplete Angelica’s runes, then she has done it to perfection. Angelica was intent on having her wards and protection spells counter a few attacks, but quick attacks in rapid succession were not something she had in mind when she imagined her daughter’s counterattack, not to mention that it is rapid firing as well. Not only making her gasp for breath as she tried to dodge the machine gun of fireballs heading her general direction, but also depleting all the wards she had meticulously created throughout the battle. A frankly brilliant counter.

And it made Angelica to stop and think for a moment, while Morgana certainly had her on the ropes, she needed to remind herself that there was a curse working near her daughter’s heart, all she needed to do was to make sure that Morgana ultimately remained predictable, and one way to make her predictable is….

A trap! Of course!

If she manages to make Morgana stay in one place, like putting a spell that prevents movement, all she needed is to just wait it out, Morgana would be stuck in one place, and was forced to cast her spells from that one axis, whether it is curses, attack spells, or even cantrips. It would be easy to read where Morgana would be casting if she was to stay in one place.

The headmistress of the Faith family crafted her magic circle to the ground, a meticulous arrangement of carvings made with bone dust, salt, and some sage. All incredibly traditional materials to work with, and once the circle is ready. She made sure not to step on it, sidestepping the magical circle entirely, and walked towards wherever Morgana could potentially be located.

“Daughter!” Angelica shouted. “I know that you are still present here. Why don’t you come out for a little bit? Perhaps have a woman vs woman match? No tricks, no nothing, just a duel to exhaustion. Didn’t realize that your time in the OMR allowed you to create such nifty tricks, especially with those fireballs. My goodness!”

She is expecting Morgana to respond, as she is casting a simple spell by herself at the moment. A magical garrote that will track the mana emanation from Morgana, and entrap her in its bindings until Angelica stops the spell or runs out of mana herself. It would allow her to, literally, pull and put Morgana into the magical circle. Thus making sure her victory is all but assured.




“An honest duel?” It took a great amount of effort on Morgana’s part not to simply laugh in response to her mother’s suggestion. As if a consummate witch such as Angelica Faith were capable of doing anything with ‘no tricks’ involved. The notion alone spat in the face of all of their traditions.

Even if it didn’t and Morgana believed for one second this was a serious request, why would she accept? She was in the superior position, surprisingly, her distraction proving far more effective at burning away her mother’s wards both figuratively and literally than she had expected. The room was still cloaked in her darkness for the time being and her mother wasn’t even mounting a counter attack against her. She was winning. Why level the playing field?

Beneath her coat, the curse continued to feed.

“Of course, a duel! Where do you want me to stand, on the giant red X?”

Morgana kept up the steady stream of fireballs with one hand, now noticeably diminished compared to the original, and began drawing another magic formation in the air with her free hand. Once her mother’s wards all failed, assuming her weakness was not a bluff, then she would need a binding circle to entrap her the moment she was vulnerable; something to prevent further casting and make capturing her physically easier. The process of actually binding a practitioner’s magic was far more complex than she could manage in a few minutes, but an effect to bind her arms to her side and prevent her from speaking would be effective enough. A similar spell to the one she cast in Germany, to stick that cultist to the floor should work.




“Thank you for responding!”

The words Morgana spoke was more than enough for Angelica to pinpoint her daughter’s location. Not to mention the fireballs that she unleashed was more than easy to trace, the wires quickly wrapped itself around the daughter of the Faith family, and the only thing Angelica needed was to pull and drag her daughter into the magical circle. A simple feat that needed only muscles, admittedly something she lacks, but where muscles are lacking, willpower will power the Faith family matriarch through, and soon enough, she saw Morgana’s face, and quickly after that, her bound body emerge from the darkness.

It was only moments before she could gloat and impress her coven with such an achievement, just one more push…




Yes… binding a practitioner’s arms was a very effective way of preventing someone from being able to cast their spells. Especially someone like Morgana, who needed her arms free to draw the complex circles that her magic required. One could do so by inflicting their target with a sort of localised paralysis, which was effective but required getting past whatever wards or barriers the target had in place, or they could use a binding effect not to press their arms down but instead of offer resistance when they tried to move, which was more complex but also more efficient depending on how much the person tried to struggle against the effect.

The simplest method though was simply to conjure a physical object and wrap them around the person in question. Of course, physically manifesting any kind of object was costly in terms of mana but the resulting effect was also something that was purely physical and therefore bypassed any defences designed to only stop attacks of a magical nature.

All of this was to say, Morgana had lost. Her mother’s conjured garrotte wires had ensnared her before her own spell could be completed and while the leftover warding she had placed on her clothes to make them bulletproof prevented the wire from cutting through to her skin, they didn’t stop it from pinning her arms in place.

She offered little resistance as her mother pulled her forward, feeling strangely drained after firing so many fireballs in a row. No reason to fight it now, it was almost over; she could feel the magic circle her mother had crafted behind her, had been able to feel it through her wards the moment it had activated. The witch could even divine the nature of its binding to an extent, how being trapped within it would not seal her magic away any more than it already had been, but that stepping inside of it would leave her trapped.
Almost over, and she was tired now. A deep exhaustion emanated from somewhere in her chest, flooding her limbs and growing stronger with each second.

Almost over.




Angelica is feeling triumphant. She knew that this was the closing act. As the Head of her Coven, she can already see that her fellow witches watching at the stand was starting to look seriously at the fight. Now that she is pretty much guaranteed to win. No surprises can come from what looks like a very tired, and very defeated Morgana.

The curse is working, and Morgana looks defeated, it only takes one last effort on Angelica’s part to ensure she would remain that way. “C’mon daughter, we have a date with Destiny today!” She said, her face unmistakably smug and full of so much arrogance only a Faith would have. “Don’t want to have my daughter pull some last-minute spells on my face, we should ensure that, no?” She also said. Casting a spell to amplify the curse even more, making Morgana even weaker as she continued dragging the woman towards the circle.

Any minute now…




They were at the edge of the circle now, Morgana wards almost brushing up against the edge of it, her feet standing on the runes themselves but not yet in the circle itself. By now she had figured out what it was for; a one-way physical binding that would prevent those that entered it from leaving again. A simple arrangement, one unsuited to long term containment since anyone trapped inside with even a modicum of knowledge of such things could simply create their own exit; but in the middle of a fight, when you were already worn down and drained of most of your mana? It was sufficient.

“Tell me mother.” Morgana’s words came out slightly slurred, as if she was too tired to even move her lips to form the words. “Were you really so foolish as to not exclude yourself from your own binding?”

The witch tipped backwards, letting her weight and her mother’s grip on the wires pull the woman with her into the circle which, due to the lack of any more complex configurations would trap the both of them inside.




It was quite unexpected, and events unfolded so quickly that Angelica barely had any time to react, it was hopeless, however, since the sudden jerk from her daughter pulled both of them towards the circle. The runes were activated, and both Angelica and Morgana were suddenly trapped within the confines of the circle.

The head witch certainly had considered such a possibility, but if she knew one thing about Morgana, it was that she didn’t consider the possibility of her actions long-term. Even if both of them were trapped within the same circle. It was only a matter of time until Morgana’s curse would impact her body so severely that she would consider ceding victory to her. Lest she… well, die.

“Dearest Morgana.” She said, now stuck in the magic circle alongside her. “Are you too shortsighted that you can only see the immediate option laid out before you? I didn’t think that your skills as a Witch would degrade to such an extent.” Uncasting the garrote wire she had on her, she continued her tirade of disappointment towards her only daughter. “I swear that I taught my daughter about more foresight than this. Words could not explain how disappointed I am with you.”

“Have you considered the fact that you are now trapped with me in this circle? What do you think you are going to do now that you cannot move your arms and limbs? The best case scenario for you currently is your surrender to me. Since this circle will degrade throughout the day and I will have a much higher mana reserve than you do by the end of that. I promise you that I will treat you well if you come back to the fold, however. I do love my children if they are genuinely remorseful of their actions.”

Just the thought of Morgana being back in her fold again is bringing her great joy. Oh the reeducation of her is going to be so, so satisfying.




As soon as her mother was done talking, Morgana lashed out with one hand and launched the now complete binding spell she had been preparing earlier towards her, the orb of blue light flying at her and adhering the woman’s arms and back to the floor before she could think to pick herself up. It had been difficult to finish the circle with her limited mobility and the duration had surely suffered as a result, but it still had the desired effect of immobilising her.

“I don’t want to hear about short-sightedness from someone who released their spell too early.” Having her arms freed without her having to do anything herself was a boon; as it was, Morgana had expected to have to finish this duel with both arms tied behind her back, but luckily that wasn’t the case.

Morgana slowly picked herself up off of the ground, fatigue clear from how considered and ponderous her actions were. Once on her feet, she walked over to the edge of the circle and stopped just short of the boundary that would stop her from moving any further. “As for my skills as a witch, perhaps you should have paid more attention to those papers I sent you. You seem woefully unaware of what I’m capable of.” A quick flick of her wrist conjured a rudimentary circle before Morgana, which she pushed forward until it came into contact with the invisible border of the circle and disappeared.

The witch stepped forward and passed over the circle without hindrance. “I know you were in a hurry when you made it, but I have better wards cast on my fridge than this. Don’t bother trying to leave yourself; this circle is mine now.”




“Ugh, always with that typical Faith family flair.” Angelica responded, nonchalantly. There is some part in her brain that is quite shocked that Morgana managed to take control of the circle so easily and managed to bind her inside the magic circle as well. Certainly a smart move, but ultimately a futile one.

“You realize that there is still that curse working it’s way up to your heart no? A curse that is set to kill you any minute now? If you surrender yourself to me, then perhaps I could dispel the curse in time. A bit of tradeoff wouldn’t hurt now would it?”

Truthfully, Angelica is feeling rather desperate. The bindings and the magic circle mean that the only way she could fight Morgana is with her words, and she doesn’t know if Morgana would be stupid enough to kill herself despite of that. A small bead of sweat is running down her brow as she was taunting Morgana from her binds.




Morgana paused, tilting her head to the side as if seriously considering the proposal. “Hmm, I suppose allowing myself to die just to spite you would be taking this whole farce a little too far.” The witch turned and crouched down at the edge of the circle, leaning forward so that the brim of her hat was almost touching the invisible boundary. “Are you saying that you’d watch me die if I don’t release you from your own folly? This is quite a mean-spirited curse you’ve used on your own daughter. One would almost think you were lying when you said you loved your children.”

Standing up again, Morgana let an ounce of the disdain she felt for the woman before her show itself on her features, her expression twisting into one of long held disgust. “But then, I’ve always known that the only things you’re capable of loving are yourself and that which benefits you.” Reaching a hand into her coat Morgana extracted a green glass bottle, round and with a flat bottom almost like a beaker and filled with an unidentifiable liquid.

“I’m sure you’re able to recognise what this is? I did learn how to make it from this household after all.” Morgana stooped down to place the witches’ bottle on the ground just outside the magic circle, completely out of Angelica’s grasp despite being only a few inches away. As soon as her fingers left the glass, Morgana felt the exhaustion that had plagued her evaporated in an instant now that she was no longer in contact with the curse that had been trapped inside it. “I hope you didn’t think me foolish enough to come here without some precautions towards curses?”




In truth… there is a part of her that felt proud when Morgana pulled out that witch bottle. The woman that she raised from birth has now beaten her. The fact that she didn’t sense that there was even a witch bottle speaks to the fact that Morgana has concealed it well inside her coat. No doubt protected by magic absorbing wards and other protective spells she could only imagine.

She couldn’t bear to look at the college of witches that were assembled in the hall. All of them immediately leaving the scene the moment Morgana puts the Witch’s bottle just beyond her reach. She knew that she was well and truly defeated. Perhaps it is her hubris that lead to her downfall, perhaps it is her lack of tact and the fact that she didn’t read any of Morgana’s papers that she sent to her. Perhaps it is all of it.

Regardless, the outcome is pretty much set in stone. “You already know what to do…” She said, her eyes looking at the witch’s bottle, the light in her eyes slowly dimming as the fact that she’s about to lose everything dawned on her. “Just understand that I will do everything to preserve this coven Morgana, whatever moves you think I did that was reprehensible, whatever deal we have cultivated, all of this is to ensure that the Witches would still remain relevant in the 21st century.”

“... there is a lever in the back of the hall, pull it, and the cages holding your friends will come down.”




Letting out a sigh, Morgana schooled her features once more and said, truthfully but not unkindly. “If the only way witches can remain relevant is by making these kinds of deals, if you cannot imagine a way they can do so on their own merits, perhaps that is a sign that their time has come to an end.” She chose not to mention that by signing up to this deal, by selling witchcraft to cults and criminals and who knows who else, by losing this duel and failing in her goal, she had only ensured that the practices of witchcraft would fall under further scrutiny. What was already a dying art would wither further under criminal investigations and restrictions on the admittedly less savoury parts of the craft and the already antiquated practice would begin to be seen as dangerous too.

Or perhaps not. Morgana wasn’t an expert on the vacillating nature of public opinion, nor how the OMR would handle things going forward.
“Just be good and sit there until someone comes to arrest you. Cooperate, answer their questions, and maybe you won’t have all of your assets seized.”

Morgana detected no lies in what her mother said about the level she was directed to, but that didn’t prevent her from checking it over thoroughly for any last minute traps before pulling it.
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It didn't take long for Amanda to be freed from her bonds as Morgana lowered the cage for all of the captured OMR Agents, and decided to free Amanda first with the collar and her various bonds gone, she had already decided to call in for reinforcements the moment the collar was let loose by her Witch Friend, and was busy turning her servos and motors throughout her body, seemingly stretching her body all over the place, looking on as everyone was slowly freed from their cages. "I will tell you this Morgana. I am very proud of you." She said towards the British witch. "You fought well, you made sure your mother underestimated you, and you exploited that hubris perfectly. I saw how you unveiled that witch's bottle at the end, and I could not ask for a better conclusion."

"Alright gang!" She said towards the rest of the team that was now, at this point, released. "We will leave escaping this house to Morgana for the moment, since I think there might be some traps and wards here that we don't know about. But I've already called in reinforcements and OMR agents should be arriving at the house anytime now. I've put forward the highest priority SOS you could possibly think of, so expect the cavalry to come in and swoop in."

She was about to turn towards Morgana, but her head then tilted upwards as an invisible signal seemingly coursed through the Android's head. "Well. We have an OMR task force coming up right now, ETA 15 minutes, and there are some rumours that we might have someone that might join our team. HQ is sending someone as a dedicated healer into our team after our good Orc Dura left for someplace else. Just as a heads up."

"But. Anyway." She finally then turned to Morgana, looking at the witch and smiling. "What should we do with your mom? And how are we going to get out of this witch's house?"
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As agonizing as the trappings that bound Faye were, the complete isolation from magic they caused did offer at least some solace... At least at that moment. Morgana's fight with her mother wasn't a kind or pleasant one to experience for those with fae blood. Their spells, while relatively tame at first, quickly began to spun out of control. Runes and curses that twisted and tore the natural flow of magic formed a true maelstrom of magic.

Faye had no idea of how much time had passed. To someone with Fae blood, the trappings Morgana's mother used were almost cruel. Isolating one from the flow of magic, which was for her as natural as the senses she had been born with felt like torture. The moment Faye was freed from her bindings, the sudden rush of magic was both like a breath of fresh air and a flashbang. Agitated and disoriented, Faye quickly got up, breathing heavily as she looked around, frantically looking for the exit. It was only after a minute or so that Faye finally noticed what was going on, with Amanda and Micheal also free from their own cages and Morgana, apparently emerging victorious over her mother.

"Amands, Micheal, you guys are ok, aren't you?" Faye said, running to where they were, still noticeably agitated.

"We are... safe now, aren't we, Morgana? Can we get out of here now? T-The OMR team will soon arrive... We can leave things here to them, can't we?" Faye asked, turning to Morgana as her eyes darted around, still in full alert.
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Micheal Lifts!*stomp stomp*


Micheal was still singing, and occasionally rattling the chains and weights as if chimes for his singing.

His voice hitches though. When he feels all that weight vanish. He stops in the middle of a lyric telling the story about the flood that the First Man weathered and brought the land back after. To say he was not prepared at all to have his singing interuppted. Or to feel the oppression of the weights and chains fall away. Well he lets out a crowing whoop. And then heaves back, and throws his arms up, back, around, he wheels his arms, causing muscle to bulge and surge as he sends the chains and weights clattering off his body.

He stands again tall, then takes a deep breath, pulling air back into his lungs. Though he can't use his magic right now. The mighty war cry he lets out, may as well be infused with his joy, his sheer happiness and wonder and freedom. Enough so, that just across the room, the three trickster gods jerk awake. One by one first Manabozho gets to his feet groggily. Then Whiskeyjack with a groan. Lastly Raven. And then hearing the warcry, they stagger over towards Micheal and join in, turning their heads to the cieling and crying out, like joining in on a wolfs howl. Then the four clash together and share a hug.

Panting a little after abit the four turn and head ove to check on Amanda, Faye and Morgana. The four limping over. Micheal speaking for them, "I think we're okay. That was rough. Faye? Boss Bot?" He looks over at Morgana, "you alright Morgs?" He bends over abit, gritting his teeth, "We should get the hell outta here...think the OMR is sending help? We can't have gone unmissed right?"
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"Is she sleeping?"

"I doubt it. She can't be that comfortable with her back resting on the wall of a moving truck. She's probably meditating or something."

"I bet you she's sleeping."

Lhoris opened her eyes and looked over to the two OMR agents sitting across from her, and they both shut up and looked away. Despite being of equal rank to her, newbies always had their guard up around one of the OMR's founding members. Lhoris sighed, and closed her eyes again. She was neither sleeping or meditating. She was simply trying to remember everything she could about Faith Manor. The last time she had come here was the year 1874. Alvira Faith, the head of the family at the time, had been a hardline traditionalist and archiver. A Witch after Lhoris' own heart and possibly somebody the 322-year old Elf could call one of her many friends over her long life. It had been disappointing to gain intel of what her friend's great-granddaughter, Angelica Faith, had done.

There were eight of them inside the van including herself. The other seven Rapid Response where there as cleanup. They were to sieze any illegal materials or research and detain asmany members of the coven as they could. Lhoris herself had a slightly different role to usual. After her normal duty of first aid, she was then to join the team she was rescuing as they needed a replacement healer. Lhoris usually turned down longer missions but from what little she gleamed from skimming the notes, this time there seemed to be stakes.

The van stopped. Everyone got out and began arming themselves with wands and staffs and other magical apparatus. Lhoris secured her quiver and grabbed her bow. The first rule of cleanup was that just because it was called 'cleanup' doesn't mean it's not just as dangerous or important. The other seven charged on ahead in order to prevent as many coven Witches from escaping as possible. They approached the mansion from differenr ancles so that nobody could sneak out. Lhoris alone ventured up to the front door, and entered.
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Morgana Faith


It was perhaps only a stubborn refusal to let her mother see her falter that let Morgana walk back over to join the others without stumbling or falling over. Though not directly affected by the curse she was now free of, it had still managed to cause quite a bit of fatigue while it was nestled within her coat.

“I’m fine.” Her posture hid most of the signs of how much of a lie that was, but there was a definite sag to her shoulders that wasn’t usually there and a straight back couldn’t mask how pale the witch was.

“My mother can stay where she is until the task force arrives; even if her magic isn’t bound, she won’t unravel that circle before they get here.” Well, probably. It was a little slapdash on her part, admittedly, but this was her forte and nothing she had seen her mother do suggested she could subvert what she had done. “As for leaving, we’ll be fine until we reach the threshold. There are very few passive wards and boundaries within the house itself; they would be too restrictive to live with otherwise, especially with how many rituals are conducted here. Not to mention the difficulty of establishing wards within the outer physical boundary of a demesne or property while still tied to said location; symbolically wards tend to resist being placed anywhere but… you know what, it doesn’t matter. We’ll be fine till we reach the front door.”
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