Chrysalis

[Mallory]

The ear-splitting, raucous roar of great engines preceded the sudden implosion of what was left of the outside wall as the titanic nose of a spaceship shoved its way into the building. The decorated officer staggered and fell, crushed beneath the weight of debris that came crashing down on top of her.

As the ship advanced, her body was pushed along with a pile of rubble toward the middle of the room. It rolled to a stop at the edge of the ritual circle as Temperance's arrival blew smoke, shattered glass, and hot air from her forward thrusters clear across the chamber. Shannon grunted and tried to shield her eyes with the crook of her arm, straining against the black tentacles that still loosely bound her limbs. "Let me go...!" she growled.

Mallory obliged her.

The moment the tentacles burst into black mist, Shannon reeled away from the witch and the ruined body of the imp, and the soul she held soared through the air, bouncing over the scorch-marked tiles and rolling loose among the soul crystals of forty captive children. She went scrambling after it on all fours, grasping desperately as it rolled away from her. "Anomenar!" the succubus cried.

"Meliai." Three syllables in an ancient tongue, and the blade imbued with the magic of the Tower of Earth burst out of the witch's hand, narrowly missing Shannon's neck as it sliced cleanly through the floor tiles and severed the ritual circle. With a bright burst of energy, their magic released its hold on the forty captive souls.

Many simply rolled free, the physical forms contained within slowly materializing, while the most recent captives violently shattered their prisons, a dozen children of various ages returning to their bodies for the first time in days or weeks. The witch thought she caught a flash of a familiar head of dirty-blonde hair through the smoke billowing across the chamber... "Haley!" she cried, and felt the familiar, powerful voice in her head that could sense her every feeling:

Mallory.

From her place in the cockpit, Caroline smiled darkly at the screen on the dash in front of her which showed three, tiny red markers and where they were in relation to everything else in the room. Satisfied with having not harmed their quarry, she vented another blast of hot air through the forward thrusters to clear a path for her crew.

When the cargo bay door opened, a pair of men dressed in matching black taclite gear spilled out of its mouth with guns drawn.

"Well," said Patrick over the roar of noise. Around his waist was a heavy duty riggers belt adorned with mag and gear pouches, and the gleam of a holstered, lightweight compact revolver. Just in case. "This is a situation."

Conrad shot him a look. "Really? And here I was thinking it was a shit show inside a cluster fuck."

"Patrick!" shouted Mallory, her tone a mixture of relief and distress. "The kids!"

"Connie," Patrick barked. "Don't let anyone on this boat," he instructed.

"You got it, Cap," he replied while lifting his gun to shoot a nearby soldier who was shakily getting back to his feet.

Patrick disappeared into the haze of smoke toward the terrified cries of children and began herding them swiftly into the safety of Temperance's belly.

Even through the chaos of battle, the presence of Haley Jensen's mind inside Mallory's mind was clearer than any other sense. She knew the girl was helping to shepherd the other children to the ship, because she wanted her to know that. The witch cast a last look at the young psychic through the smoke, before she stooped to snatch her sword from the floor and went loping off after Shannon and Adder...

((Adapted from a scene with Penny, Trick, and Eri, with thanks!))

[Mallory]

Eri had only just scrambled back to her feet to challenge Maria when Temperance crashed into the building, bowling the both of them over again. The oni was quicker to recover and sprung back to her feet, managing to retrieve her sword from the ground, wobbly as she was. As soon as her fingers closed around the hilt, she advanced toward the recovering succubus.

Expecting another reckless charge, Maria prepared a spell, light crackling at her fingertips. The delinquent charged, but held back with a feint that drew Maria forward, the misstep causing the spell to falter. Infuriated, Maria advanced on Eri as the delinquent retreated, her claws outstretched, ready to swing --

-- only to be met with an unexpected lunge of the enchanted jian, plunging into her throat.

Eri had to fight the urge to laugh when she saw the surprised look on Maria's face, but she kept her composure and didn't waste the opportunity. She drew the sword back again, then swung it in a quick overhand chop with all the momentum her body could impart. The sharp blade sliced into the top of the succubus' skull, and remained lodged there as Maria fell back onto the ground once more. Not willing to abandon it, Eri loomed over her prone form and gave the blade a few rocking motions to free it.

On the other side of the room, Penny was now in close quarters with Naomi. The forceable impact of Temperance's appearance had rocked the wizard's balance off mid axe swing. With luck the axe still struck true to Naomi's torso, opening a gash with her jerking in pain, but all the grace and power behind the blow had been halved.

Whipping about to regain her feet, instead Penny was met with a furious lash of the succubus' tail, knocking the wizard to the ground with her weapon clattering beside her. As Penny stretched to reach for the axe handle, the last of her conjured beasts came charging from the opposite direction only to be caught up in Naomi's claws, shredded at and tossed aside against a wall as if it was not much more than a minor inconvenience. This time, it was Penny who jerked and writhed in pain, the gold in her eyes suddenly going dark as she shouted a curse at Naomi, her magic utterly spent.

Patrick came out of nowhere and barreled right into Naomi, driving his shoulder into her side in an attempt to throw her off-balance. Caught up in momentary surprise, the succubus gasped as she was knocked off her feet and sent sprawling onto the floor. She righted herself in an instant, crouching low as she whirled about to face her attacker. Trick scrambled to his feet in time to see Naomi straighten up with a laugh.

"Mortal," she sneered contemptuously. Naomi turned her back on him, unconcerned, fixing her eyes on the troublesome Wizard. She waited until she was sure Penny was watching, then snapped her tail in a scythe-like motion that caught Patrick across the chest, sending him hurtling into the wall. His body crumpled like a ragdoll , sliding to the floor in a heap.

Having rolled up to her feet with obvious strain, Penny's hands tightened around the handle of her weapon, but the weight of it was growing too heavy for her to lift it. The sight of Patrick slumped up against a wall led to a Maori battle cry before the battle axe was hauled up and thrown into the air as if it was a simple throwing hatchet. It would have cracked apart the succubus' skull if only Penny had accounted for the simple side step from Naomi before the blade struck the wall instead.

Penny rushed forward to tackle her then, wrestling with talons and the overgrown black tail with its life draining effects until the pair was rolling on the ground through the mess and destruction. The axe handle wasn't quite in reach and she didn't have the upper hand as Penny had to fight off claws scratching at her face and arms from the succubus straddling her on the ground.

A small flicker of hope formed when Naomi became momentarily ensnared in the last few creeping kudzu vines that started to coil around both her and the wizard. As the succubus was forced to slash her way out of the last-ditch effort of bindings, Penny's eyes searched around wildly first, and spotting the cracks in the wall surrounding the battle axe, extended a hand out towards it.

The battle axe disappeared, called back to its true home in the cuff on her wrist, and the wizard drew on the fading magic from that weapon to force new fissures and fault lines to break apart, spreading higher up onto the wall and up onto the ceiling -- not enough to break yet, though marble and concrete groaned under the strain. The faint flicker of copper in her eyes burned on Naomi's face before Penny was gritting her teeth in pain as Naomi lashed her tail around her torso, draining the life out of her with pulses of shadow. "You should have run when I warned you. Die, wizard," she hissed through her glistening fangs.

Penny felt a warm spray of liquid across her face at the same time the concussive report of a gun rang out twice in sharp succession. Most of Naomi's face was gone and everything that had once been inside her skull was now outside, the gruesome evidence lost in all the rubble and debris. As Naomi's body slumped over, the Wizard could see Patrick sitting up against the wall with his gun out.

The pilot slowly pushed himself forward and crawled on all fours to Penny's side. He shoved what was left of Naomi's body away and tried to get her to stand. "I'd make a joke if I could think of one," he said.

Penny's smile was brief. She curled her fingers in a loose grip around his wrist. "I'm tired," she murmured, eyelids fluttering closed.

Trick holstered his gun as two children darted past him toward Connie standing guard at the cargo door and keeping count.

"Thirty-three... thirty-four...!" Mallory could hear his voice over the soldiers' and succubi's dying screams as she went searching through the thick smoke and debris for her quarry, coughing into her arm as she went. She bumped into something solid, and pushed a weeping, stumbling child in the direction of the bright lights of Temperance and its thrusters. "Thirty-five!" The witch nodded grimly, and cast her eyes towards the last place she'd seen the infernal spirit rolling...

Nadya.

((Adapted from live play with Trick and Eri and Penny, with thanks!))

[Mallory]

"That isn't my name," the witch sneered as she found the pulsating and weakening light of the soul crystal containing her lifelong tormentor and nemesis, revealed in the smoke by its gleam. "But I've heard yours now... Anomenar." With the invocation of his true name, the light expanded, rippling over her as she scooped the crystal into the palm of her hand, and it burned with his infernal essence...

Crack! Shannon's whip-like tail snapped through the air as it lashed across the witch's shoulders, tearing her flesh and sucking life essence out of her body. She staggered, tightening her hand around the crystal, deepening the cuts in her palm in an attempt to invoke a counterspell, but the first syllable was still on her lips when the last remaining succubus crashed into her. There was a whirlwind of motion as she hit the floor, getting a fleeting glimpse of Eri and Trick and other shapes through the billowing smoke and roaring flames, too far across the room to clearly see or hear -- and concealed from them in turn.

"You fools slew my sisters! You won't take my master! I won't let you! Die!" Shannon shrieked, and the witch caught a flash of her true form, crimson skin and curling horns and pearly fangs, before the succubus headbutted her in the nose. Crunch. Dazed, Mallory's head lolled back as she tried to push out from under Shannon's weight, until the succubus seized her by the throat, her fingers gripping tightly as her wicked claws grew longer, scraping along the back of her neck. Mallory's hand tightened reflexively, the cracks in the crystal deepening and spreading as her blood seeped in, and Shannon clawed desperately at her arm. "No... give him to me... he is mine, you bitch...!"

"Mallory!" Haley's shrill voice rang out like a siren. The little girl threw off her blanket, abandoning the group of crying children huddled in Temperance's hull and ran down the ramp back into the building.

"Hey!" Conrad shouted after the girl as she darted past him. "What are you doing? Get back in here!"

Patrick hurried forward with Penny in his arms and a few more children in tow. He glared at the little blonde haired girl who blew past him, but directed his next words to Connie. "How many are left?"

After taking a split second to tally in the newest arrivals, he said, "Just one. And Haley, but--"

"One more you said?" Eri appeared at the mouth of the cargo bay, ushering forward a crying boy to join the others inside.

"Eri!" Patrick sighed her name in relief. "Take Penny. She's fine, just--get her inside. I'll get Haley."

After Penny was transferred safely into the half-oni's arms, Trick ran after Haley and caught her by the arm. "No!" she yelled, twisting out of his grip. "We have to help her!"

"Haley," he replied sternly, even as she continued to ignore him. Trick swore and caught back up to her in two long strides, locking a strong arm around her waist and grunting in pain as he lifted her off her feet. "This is not a discussion," he told her, hauling her back into the ship.

"No!"

Haley didn't move. She only looked. The smoke whirled away in the path of her gaze, revealing the form of the succubus tightening her clawed fingers around Mallory's throat, and she told the creature to stop. Not to stop strangling her, not to stop fighting them, but to stop -- and the billions of little connections between her mind, body and soul froze at once.

The darkness faded from the witch's vision as oxygen flooded back into her lungs, though her nerves still burned with pain from her injuries, and the two throbbing nodules near her temples where she could feel warm blood trickling down her face. She shifted her arm to touch them, and with that simple disturbance, the frozen form of the succubus dissolved into dust.

The broken and bloody pieces of Anomenar's soul lay in her hand, utterly devoid of the burn of his infernal soul, though she could feel a familiar fire spreading in her gullet...

CRACK. The space where Naomi's body still lay sprawled out was covered in an avalanche of rubble as the fault-lines Penny had created in the ceiling finally gave way, collapsing one corner of the burning chamber. "We should get the hell out of here," the witch realized, staring out the now wide-open wall at the smoke-hazed skyline. She blindly grasped Trick's arm as he offered it, letting her brother pull her to her feet with a grunt of effort and pain.

She stumbled as she hurried along with the others, staring at her hot, blood-soaked left hand that had so recently contained the soul of Anomenar, the devil who had stolen her name -- the devil whose soul she had consumed. She could barely hear Eri's question as she reached the edge of Temperance's lowered cargo ramp, and didn't resist the hands pulling her into the cramped hold with forty-odd other passengers.

Connie held his weapon by his hip, taking one last look into the vast chamber. Forty children had been counted safely aboard; of all the bodies that remained in the chamber, none of them were moving. He winced, ducking his head and backing into the hold reflexively as another section of burning ceiling tiles collapsed into a smouldering pile nearby, and recovered to cast an arrogant grin out at the wreckage. "Big damn heroes," he said as he holstered his weapon and slapped Temperance's hull twice, and the ramp let out a long pneumatic hiss as it raised.

Then, with a burst of its thrusters, Temperance lurched away from the burning building and raced off across the bay, away from the sound of wailing sirens converging on the Golden Bough.

((Adapted from a scene with Penny, Trick, and Eri, with many thanks! <3 You're welcome / apologies to those who spotted the many affectionate references to Firefly.))

[Mallory]

October 5th, 2018.

Mallory was expecting the Lyceum to be quiet this week, having had no time lately to promote or support it outside the hours she dedicated to standing behind the counter and ordering (and creating) new inventory...

...but the place was packed for a Monday afternoon. Students from the local schools and colleges dedicated to the esoteric and arcane bustled around the shelves, gossiping quietly as they picked through wands and tomes and ingredients, sharing space with a small number of older witches and mages who narrowed their eyes at their juniors and grumbled with irritation. The largest number, however, were queued right up to the counter, where a teenage boy in gym clothes was paying for a vial of volcanic ash that had once filled a buried tomb.

"Conjuring mephits?" the witch asked him coyly as she made change.

He blinked in bewilderment. "Uh, no, not really! I just... I think it'll look cool next to my lava lamp, you know?" he laughed awkwardly.

And it's on sale. She made a visible effort not to narrow her eyes at him, and slid the hand-written receipt over, along with the bagged item. "There, all set. Have a--!"

"Can you sign it?"

Mallory blinked. "The receipt?" He itched his jaw and looked away. She stared. "...The vial?" He nodded slowly. She gave him, and the notion of that, a thin-lipped frown as she retrieved the bag and a strip of sticky parchment. She dabbed an ostrich feather quill in an emerald inkwell, poised it over the paper--

"Harold," he muttered.

"To Harold, thanks for your support, Mallory St. Martin," the witch murmured, and relinquished the vial as soon as she was done. "Have a nice -- day..." she trailed off as he bolted out the door, having forgotten his change, nearly bowling over a familiar blonde-headed figure on his way out.

Tahlia side stepped the headlong rush of adolescent, and shook her head. If anyone expected her to be in mourning, they would be greatly disappointed by the nearly cheerful smile that never seemed to budge, and the fact that she was dressed in a striking fire engine red cashmere sweater over black leather. She recognized that look - it was the same one Kheld seemed to have whenever anyone had managed to catch him for an autograph during IFL. It had never really bothered her, once she'd gotten over the panic of being recognized.

Ignoring the long line of autograph seekers, she smoothly made her way to the counter. Rumors of a new season, more likely than her recent stint as the current arm candy of a certain deceased mogul, caused a few whispers as she sidled up and leaned on the wood next to the register. "Price of fame...I might have a few suggestions for keeping this under control... if you're interested..."

Mallory looked relieved to see Tahlia. "Do you now?" she said, a little too eagerly, and clenched her left hand into a fist. ("Shh, watch, she's doing it!" said someone behind a nearby shelf.) Three drops of blood were all it took to conjure a servant, a humanoid figure of shimmering crimson, and she beamed at the line and said, "Off to lunch. Ring the bell if you need assistance," she said, indicating the bright red rope that dangled near the counter and ran down through the floor into the workshop she shared with Safiya.

Then the witch was heading for the door with Tahlia, seeking a bite to eat and a brief respite from the spike in name recognition that had occurred over the last month.

To her credit, the blonde tried not to laugh. Out loud. Turning on her heel she kept pace with the witch, the disappointed moans fading as they gained the street. "Nicely handled, by the way. Set up hours. Pre-signed, authorized merchandise. And for god's sake... charge them." Golden hair flashed in the sunlight as she tossed her head.

As soon as they were decently away from the shop, she gave Mallory a rather bemused smile. "So... I got your little message. Not that I could have missed the explosion... I thought you were trying for subtle?"

"I was?" the witch said, smoothing her hair back and arranging it over the ram horns that, even now, had visibly grown since she gained them only five days ago. "That wasn't my fireball, though. Or my earthquake. Or my spaceship."

Her gaze moved away from Tahlia, roving the street thoughtfully, as much looking for vendors and restaurants as she was just watching people go about their day. "He's dead, and so are his succubi. They brought his broken spirit back from Hell, and I consumed it."

"You what?" Tahlia only stopped for a moment, surprise pulling her up short before a few quick steps caught her up. "The dead... well, that much I got from your message, and don't think I'm not grateful. Whichever one was wearing his face when I saw him had some...peculiar tastes."

Her eyes flicked up to the horns as if catching them for the first time. "Is that where the new accessories came from? I didn't want to mention them until you brought them up. And you got everyone out?"

"Forty children, all accounted for," the witch said, finding herself drifting towards a familiar cafe with ginger beer and good sandwiches. She paused at the edge of the outdoor area, left hand resting on a wrought iron fence, tensing around it. "...They're going to be dealing with this on some level for the rest of their lives."

Tahlia wasn't as familiar with the area, and let Mallory lead the way. "Of course they will. We all do. No one gets through life without a few scars. The difference is in how much you let them define you." There was a subtle pause, her gaze drifting over the passers by. "Still, they're alive. That's something to start with. The information was helpful?"

Tahlia's words were rattling their way around Mallory's head until the witch fixated on the question at the end, and pushed through the little gate and up to a table. "Very. They had medical information on everyone they pulled off the street, which--"

A waiter approached moments after they sat, and the witch gave him a smile and ordered quickly, along with Tahlia. The faster that was done, the faster he'd be out of their hair. The waiter got a polite smile with her order, along with a subtle nudge not to rush back. Tahlia took a sip of water, listening closely as Mallory continued:

"It made placing them back with their families, or other care, a lot easier... and tied it all back to Adder and his company. And a lot of other stuff, too. Exploitative talent contracts, and research on dozens of people he's bribed and blackmailed into doing his bidding over the years, and others he's made to disappear."

The witch tapped her left ring finger on the table, watching Tahlia closely as she considered her next words with great care. "That's a lot of information... on an empire with a lot of money. And there's forty children in need of therapy, some also in need of shelter and other care... dozens of musicians, actors and artists locked into exploitative contracts who need to be let go, at cost... brothels where dozens more have been compelled to work..."

"Why let them go? Why not just... rewrite the contracts? Offer a buyout if anyone wants it... but why toss them out to the street, and victimize them twice? As for the brothels... not everyone is forced into this kind of work. But they can operate under better terms, safer situations. Why not...use it? All of it. Information is power, Mallory... and you don't want one of his minions getting ideas, and trying to run things..." She had, perhaps, a sense of where this might be going. "Set up a fund for the children... there are enough charities with that focus... Kids of Summer, is it? Spring? Something like that..."

"...Those are really good points," Mallory replied slowly, folding her hands under her chin, staring across the table at Tahlia.

The blonde had lived most of her life in this shadowed world they were discussing. Leaning back in her chair, she gave the witch a bemused smirk. "You're thinking... something..."

"I think you should raise those points with the board that's been left in charge of Adder's day-to-day business after his death," Mallory added, and turned her left hand away from her chin, opening it to reveal the hidden item she had conjured, a data stick not unlike the one Tahlia had delivered to her. She set it down in the middle of the table. "I think you could make a very persuasive argument." A wicked smile curled her lips as she imagined it.

"Me?" It was rare that Tahlia was stunned, but Mallory had managed it. "You want me to walk in to the board room... assuming I know where it is.... and inform that staid old group of geezers that -- what? Adder left the empire in my hands, and they'd better get in line, or... I'll do what, exactly? I haven't got a big enough stick." She could get one, though. Reg was a whiz. But did she want to? "What's on the drive?"

"Proof of their wrongdoing... so, so very much wrongdoing. There's the Watch, there's the press..." Mallory shrugged slowly. "...and there's a lot of things in this city that go bump in the night and care very deeply about some of these things." The threat of prison doesn't quite measure up to an enraged abomination tearing you in half.

"So there are. Some of them even think I'm worth watching over...and have learned I can be more than just a pretty face." There was a pause while the waiter returned, leaving the plates with a quick smile, and checking if they required anything else before taking his leave. Tahlia replaced water with a crisp white, and tilted her head to the side, her free hand sliding to toy with the zip drive. "I'm assuming he died without provisions...papers should be easy enough to create, and I have his signature..."

"I don't think Samuel Adder ever meant to have a successor," the witch agreed, and took her ginger beer back for a sip. She smiled a little, in spite of the weight of the subject. "It's weird that he's dead now. That it's over. He took my name from me on my first birthday -- did I ever tell you that?"

"You didn't. No. I didn't realize you'd been...associated...that long." It struck Tahlia as a safe phrase for the relationship. "It's hard to let go of something when it's all you know, isn't it?" She gave a rueful smile of her own. "I'm sure he didn't, but that makes life of so much easier for us now, doesn't it?"

"It's okay. I like to think I've made the name my own now," Mallory said with a smile, and took up her drink to clink it against Tahlia's glass. "To the future proprietor of the Golden Bough -- sorry for crashing a spaceship into it."

Tahlia had nearly forgotten. "...the building. Oh god. How big did you say this fortune was, again?"

((Written with Tahlia, with thanks!))