☀️ Nancy Parker ☀️
Location: Jack in the Box
Skills: Strategy, Singing, Audiokinesis
Nancy grimaced, shaking her head.
"Standard issue imperial gold," she said reluctantly. Maybe this was a sign from the universe that she ought to start carrying silver weapons, especially if she was going to be praying to Diana on the regular. She made a mental note to check the armory when they got back. As Niah apologized, Nancy's face paled. Earlier on the train, they had been talking about their powers. Niah had mentioned the entire Oath thing... and also being able to mess with people's emotions. Her eyes darted over towards the werewolves.
Sweet Niah had just royally pissed them off.
"Pedit," Nancy cursed in Latin. She quickly followed Madalyne outside of the Jack in the Box, a not too small part of her very relieved to see that they had gotten their food. She didn't want to have to wait until after the next Amtrak stop to eat.
Focus! she scolded herself. The werewolves were a lot more threatening than whether or not they'd get their daily recommended 2000 Calories.
Her heart clenched as the werewolves grabbed Madalyne. Her imperial gold wasn't going to do the trick. She didn't know if Mads would be able to pull off the same Mist trick, but there wasn't time to spare. Her best friend was in peril and Nancy did the only thing she could think of -
she made a scene. On the train, they had talked about her maybe being able to use sound to kill. It was time to test that.
She sipped a bit of her drink, before clearing her throat. She whispered a silent prayer to Apollo to bless this deadly performance. In her mind, the song began to play, and she began her musical onslaught on the werewolves, aiming to kill them with music -
🎶Can't stay at home, can't stay at school.
Old folks say 'You poor little fool'.
Down the streets I'm the girl next door.
I'm the fox you've been waiting for.
Hello, daddy. Hello, mom.
I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
POP! POP! POP!
Hello world! I'm your wild girl.
I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!🎶
POP! POP!
The five werewolves were no more as Nancy finished her last note, covered in monster dust. Her voice felt incredibly hoarse after such a performance.
"Thanks, Dad," she whispered, figuring he must have answered her prayers - that or Joan Jett was actually an immortal goddess.