Something Wicked
Feb. 26th, 2004 11:45 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsTime: Takes place directly after the Belasco/Illyana incident.
Players: Amanda and Kwannon.
Log:
It was perhaps lucky, in a sick and twisted way, that the medlab was so full. McCoy and Bartlett had been so distracted by dealing with the injuries caused by the fight in Limbo they had barely raised a murmur when Amanda had suggested the best place for her to recover was her own bed. She'd had to go through the whole gamut of neurological-type scans, and McCoy had given her some aspirin for the raging headache, and a lecture on not ignoring any sudden nosebleeds or earbleeds, or any kind of bleeding for that matter, and coming to him immediately should anything, and he meant anything happen, but that was as close to barely raising a murmur as the school's doctors got.
She made her slow way back upstairs, the pounding in her head making her nauseous. Every nerve felt hyper-sensitive, scraped raw, and she wanted nothing more than to go to her room, put the pillow over her head, and sleep for the next three weeks. And anyone who got in the way of that would find out what it was like to try and function without various useful bits of their...
Amanda's inner dialogue came to a screeching halt as a figure came around the corner. On one level she recognised the person as Ms Braddock, she of the Creepy Vibes, walking sedately along the hall as well she or any other teacher might. But on another level, the one she'd found in her books was considered some kind of magical sight, seeing people's energy, on that level, she was seeing something else entirely. Betsy had enough psychic energy for two people, and one of the signatures wasn't... right. It was a roiling mass of blacks and dark purples and browns, and it had a stranglehold on the other trace, which was faint and pale, as if the other were sucking the vitality out of it. She still had enough of Limbo's dark power running through her to see the evil in Betsy, and to be afraid of it.
The sheer level of anxiety coursing through the walls of the Manor was making it hard to focus and walking the grounds hadn't diminshed the growing pain in her temple. Her control had become a growing concern, and while ignoring the students and staff had alleviated it some, she struggled. The Braddock woman was weakening, but still had much spirit left in her. And as Kwannon traversed the halls, fencing in mental walls on the diminished Brit, she caught sight of the runt, Amanda, covered in blood. She must have been in the supposed dimension scuffle, earlier. Kwannon sighed internally and assumed the familiar guise of concern. "Amanda, are you alright?"
Amanda flinched back reflexively as Betsy spoke to her. The concerned tone didn't fool her, not one bit, not with the wrongness her over-senstised magical instincts ringing alarm bells that made her head ring. "Um, fine, just goin' t' me room," she muttered, trying to edge past.
Feeling the young girl's fear directed at herself. Kwannon brought herself into Amanda's path, stopping her from moving on. She placed her hand to the runt's chin, holding her in place. "You don't look fine to me. What is it that has you so spooked, Amanda?"
"Spot of trouble with some demons. That sort of thing tends t' take it out of you," Amanda replied, taking on the careless, mocking tone she used as a defence. "Nothin'for you t' worry about."
Kwannon didn't move, she continued to eye the girl and watch for her reaction. Amanda was lying. She realized that she could see something, but how..... "In my good conscience, I can't let you leave, especially if you're troubled, Amanda."
The woman's fingers on her chin made her skin crawl; Amanda jerked away, regretting it a second later as the sudden movement made the pounding in her head worse. "Just leave it, right?" she snapped. "Just get the fuck away from me."
Her face darkened, as she let her hands drop from the young girl's face. It took sheer restraint from not squeezing the life out of the little brat. But then, that wouldn't be the affect she'd be going for anyway. Kwannon took a step back and cleared Amanda's way to the stairs. "Then, I won't keep you from your bed, /my dear/."
The young witch didn't need telling twice - she practically fled the older woman's presence, thankful Betsy had obviously decided she wasn't worth the trouble.
She shuddered at the memory of the wrongness in the woman's aura, and made a mental note to keep as far away from her as she could. And for the first time since Pete had told her, she was glad she was leaving the mansion in a few weeks.
She watched Amanda's retreating form, curiousity getting the better of her. Perhaps a dalliance within Amanda's dreams tonight would prove more effective. But first, she needed time to meditate, time to gather her strength, and time to ask Manny about this little witch and her abilities.
Players: Amanda and Kwannon.
Log:
It was perhaps lucky, in a sick and twisted way, that the medlab was so full. McCoy and Bartlett had been so distracted by dealing with the injuries caused by the fight in Limbo they had barely raised a murmur when Amanda had suggested the best place for her to recover was her own bed. She'd had to go through the whole gamut of neurological-type scans, and McCoy had given her some aspirin for the raging headache, and a lecture on not ignoring any sudden nosebleeds or earbleeds, or any kind of bleeding for that matter, and coming to him immediately should anything, and he meant anything happen, but that was as close to barely raising a murmur as the school's doctors got.
She made her slow way back upstairs, the pounding in her head making her nauseous. Every nerve felt hyper-sensitive, scraped raw, and she wanted nothing more than to go to her room, put the pillow over her head, and sleep for the next three weeks. And anyone who got in the way of that would find out what it was like to try and function without various useful bits of their...
Amanda's inner dialogue came to a screeching halt as a figure came around the corner. On one level she recognised the person as Ms Braddock, she of the Creepy Vibes, walking sedately along the hall as well she or any other teacher might. But on another level, the one she'd found in her books was considered some kind of magical sight, seeing people's energy, on that level, she was seeing something else entirely. Betsy had enough psychic energy for two people, and one of the signatures wasn't... right. It was a roiling mass of blacks and dark purples and browns, and it had a stranglehold on the other trace, which was faint and pale, as if the other were sucking the vitality out of it. She still had enough of Limbo's dark power running through her to see the evil in Betsy, and to be afraid of it.
The sheer level of anxiety coursing through the walls of the Manor was making it hard to focus and walking the grounds hadn't diminshed the growing pain in her temple. Her control had become a growing concern, and while ignoring the students and staff had alleviated it some, she struggled. The Braddock woman was weakening, but still had much spirit left in her. And as Kwannon traversed the halls, fencing in mental walls on the diminished Brit, she caught sight of the runt, Amanda, covered in blood. She must have been in the supposed dimension scuffle, earlier. Kwannon sighed internally and assumed the familiar guise of concern. "Amanda, are you alright?"
Amanda flinched back reflexively as Betsy spoke to her. The concerned tone didn't fool her, not one bit, not with the wrongness her over-senstised magical instincts ringing alarm bells that made her head ring. "Um, fine, just goin' t' me room," she muttered, trying to edge past.
Feeling the young girl's fear directed at herself. Kwannon brought herself into Amanda's path, stopping her from moving on. She placed her hand to the runt's chin, holding her in place. "You don't look fine to me. What is it that has you so spooked, Amanda?"
"Spot of trouble with some demons. That sort of thing tends t' take it out of you," Amanda replied, taking on the careless, mocking tone she used as a defence. "Nothin'for you t' worry about."
Kwannon didn't move, she continued to eye the girl and watch for her reaction. Amanda was lying. She realized that she could see something, but how..... "In my good conscience, I can't let you leave, especially if you're troubled, Amanda."
The woman's fingers on her chin made her skin crawl; Amanda jerked away, regretting it a second later as the sudden movement made the pounding in her head worse. "Just leave it, right?" she snapped. "Just get the fuck away from me."
Her face darkened, as she let her hands drop from the young girl's face. It took sheer restraint from not squeezing the life out of the little brat. But then, that wouldn't be the affect she'd be going for anyway. Kwannon took a step back and cleared Amanda's way to the stairs. "Then, I won't keep you from your bed, /my dear/."
The young witch didn't need telling twice - she practically fled the older woman's presence, thankful Betsy had obviously decided she wasn't worth the trouble.
She shuddered at the memory of the wrongness in the woman's aura, and made a mental note to keep as far away from her as she could. And for the first time since Pete had told her, she was glad she was leaving the mansion in a few weeks.
She watched Amanda's retreating form, curiousity getting the better of her. Perhaps a dalliance within Amanda's dreams tonight would prove more effective. But first, she needed time to meditate, time to gather her strength, and time to ask Manny about this little witch and her abilities.
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