Witch Fight

[Black Philip]

Reserved

Thesdea Thane, witch, friend of Wren, hater of Sabrina and follower of the devil, walked into the museum during business hours. She had come to see the exhibit on Set, as many of the current occupants had. She had a heavy black bag over her shoulder that museum security forgot to check. She wore her hair up, and out of her face, and while she normally wore flowery dresses and clothes that were multiple sizes too big for her, tonight she wore jeans, flats and a simple black blouse. The witch made sure to check out the other exhibits first, stretching out her time, and trying to look interested on camera. She was glamoured to hide her necrotic aura, and as long as she didn't cast anything using necromancy, she was hopeful Sabrina wouldn't notice she'd moved into the south. Black Phillip whispered that tonight was perfect.

A treacle is distracted tonight. She meets with lesser monsters. She seeks to reform them.

Tess had nodded to the goat, and began packing her bag of tricks. She found her knives, Book, and a little something special for Sabrina. She smiled wickedly as she'd zipped the bag, and had caught a public bus to the south. Sometimes the best way to avoid magical detection was to use as little magic as possible, and so far tonight Tess had lived up to that idea. She was here to get something specific, and she feared if she did wait, that Sabrina would beat her to the punch. It was easier to break into the museum than the Parlor of Purgatory. Besides, she was sort of hoping the giantess would be stupid enough to try and stop her. Brael had tried to convince her that Sabrina wanted to help her, but Tess knew that wasn't true. Sabrina thought of herself as a good witch, despite the blackness that powered her. Tess almost scoffed at the thought.

She finally made it to the room where her prize was stored. The exhibit cost as seperate fee, and for once Tess actually paid it. Once inside, she looked at mummies of Set's priests, whole walls from his temples that were placed behind protective glass, and funeral equipment from the embalming room. It was such a fascinating study of death, and Tess wondered if Black Philip and Set were friends. She imagined so, and that was why Black Philip had chosen to use his scroll. She found it with ease, and the little written plack from the archaeologist cited it as "an important mythological text." Bullshit. It was pure magic, and she laughed at the number of people who'd handled it who hadn't known.

The museum was near closing now, and so she hid in the ladies room, vaping weed through her pen, and going over her plan. Once she was sure it was just her, cameras, and a few mortal guards, she left the bathroom. She took out the guards simple enough, and a careful spell had the cameras looping the same five seconds over and over again. Now, alone, she moved to lay her trap. She prepared the ingredients and placed the triggers around the room. If Sabrina, or the militant vampire scum who ruled downtown, or even Brael tried to stop her they'd be in for a set of nasty surprises. Tess moved back to the room with the scroll, and shattered the glass with a touch of her finger.

It was smaller than she'd imagined. It looked like nothing more than a simple peace of papyrus, with careful imagery in ink. The whole thing, rolled up, would've fit in her hand. Tess was about to pocket the text and leave her boobietraps in place, but then she heard movement. She hid behind a pillar, and waited.

[Harlequin]

As Sabrina stepped out of the Luminary, a sudden sense of unease settled in her chest; a nagging tug that pulled her toward home. The tendrils of her awareness that spread through her District now were little better than a sophisticated magical alarm system, and had no power of their own beyond summoning their mistress -- but as she stepped outside, the message was clear: Intruder, interloper, danger, danger, danger. Any of her peers following her out would see a sudden tension in her shoulders, then a flick of her wrist as she brought one hand up, index finger raised. Her nail seemed to catch on something invisible in the air and she made a sharp gesture downward. She took another step forward, and disappeared.

The witch’s long step brought her to the low marble stairs leading up to the museum, the summons feeling like tiny hooks in her ribcage. Thief, thief, it whispered. But she could smell brimstone and marijuana smoke on the air. She walked up the stairs and looked close at her reflection in the great glass doors. A fingertip drawn down the cool glass changed the image, showing her Tansy at the front desk  in The Parlor. “Tess is here,“ she told her, and the other woman turned to look, frowning, “In the South. At the museum. Tell the others. I’m going in to to confront her.” Before Tansy could protest, Sabrina put her palm flat against the glass, and, with a nudge, reminded it what it had been before it was fired, coated and tempered, and the tall door dissolved into a pile of white sand her feet. Sabrina toed off her little black shoes before stepping through.

There was no time to wait for backup; she was already several steps behind. She knew well enough what the witch was here for, and she headed toward the traveling exhibit hall, spreading her senses out before her. Death suffused every inch of this place; moments and millions of years old. It was a necromancer’s dream.

But there was life, too. As she walked, Sabrina raised her hands, calling to the things that lived in the shadows. Tiny feet scurried from corners and furry bodies wriggled between bricks, squeaking gently with noses a-twitch. The museum’s mice preceded Sabrina into the exhibit hall, breaking and spreading like a wave around the borders of Tess’s casting. The Black Witch of the South was no fool, and would not be played for one with cheap traps.

As she approached, Sabrina saw the broken glass and smelled her rival, dank and fetid as the grave, her aura heavy as a shroud. “Tess,” she said simply, “Leave here. Now.” The low security lights cast her shadow, long and shifting like static, across the carpeted hallway.

[Black Philip]

It was sweet. Sabrina was offering to let her go if she just left now. How fucking adorable. Tess exhaled silently, closed her eyes and summoned an image in her minds’s eye. Once it was firmly planted, she opened her eyes.

Showtime

The security lights suddenly brightened, becoming more like spot lights. They refocused on the pilar Tess was behind. She wasn’t hiding behind it. It just let her make an entrance. The PA, suddenly began to play Season of the Witch, and it was then Tess sprung her real trap. One by one, the doors to the room slammed shut and sealed. Sabrina would sense blood magic fueling some sort of ward. It was close, but not exactly necromancy. She turned the corner walking into the spotlights. She danced, throwing up her arms and rocking her hips side to side.

“Don’t you just love this song,” she said, her tone of voice suggesting they were old friends. “I can’t believe he wasn’t a bigger deal, right?” She followed up with a cute little laugh. “Hey bitch, welcome to hell.”

[Harlequin]

The slamming of the doors registered in Sabrina’s thoughts, but not on her face. Good. She worked best in close quarters. Her eyes followed Tess as she stepped from behind the pillar, he pupils wide despite the sudden brightness of the lights.

To Tess’s taunts she said nothing, though a certain sadness flickered across her face. Thesdea Thane was a child-slave, strayed from the schoolyard. She’d written her doom in blood, and Sabrina would take no joy in killing her.

A flick of her long fingers released her tiny army, and the mice scattered in a whisper of paws. Sabrina squared her shoulders and advanced. The room filled with the scent and tension of a gathering storm, a sound like distant thunder rolling from within the taller woman’s chest.

[Black Philip]

"What no witty pre fight banter," Tess asked, as Sabrina approached.

Tess may have been acting flippant, but she took the witch in front of her as a real threat. She wouldn't pull any punches, and so Tess wouldn't either. She was saving her surprise for the moment shit got real dicey but for now she simply summoned a fireball and tossed it, before pushing back on her feet and levitating in the air. The song played on, and the mummies burst from their tombs, trapped behind protective glass but screaming and clawing for freedom all the same. Tess hand't even meant to raise them, and for a brief moment wondered if this was Sabrina's doing. She sensed something powerful growing in the other - and she rationalized that she'd be meeting it soon - but it didn't feel like death. Curious.

[Harlequin]

The sounds of stone cracking distracted Sabrina momentarily, eyes sliding sideways just long enough for the fireball to catch her partially unaware. The Treacle, however, was not so unlucky - jerking the witch’s arm and bursting from her fingertips in time to subsume the flame in a web of blackness, though Sabrina had to turn her face, snarling, from the heat of it. 

The ancient dead would be a problem, if they got free. She needed to end this quickly.

She sent the Treacle up, after Tess, meaning to catch her in it and pull her back down into her waiting arms, and the nameless horror that buzzed around her lips, just at the edges of hearing, below the music.

[Black Philip]

For a moment, Tess actually thought the fire would hit. Her overconfidence was misplaced. She turned her head, and whistled. The dead stopped moving for a moment, although they were still animated. They all turned their heads and focused on Sabrina, redoubling their efforts to escape. She may not have raised them, but she could control them at least. The same force that had brought them to life corrected for the frailty of decay. While they weren't strong, they were not weak either. Her little whistling trick made her miss the treacle and it caught her foot pulling her towards Sabrina.

"What the fuck," the young witch said, realizing what was happening moments before her neck would've been ripe for snapping. She needed her tool sooner than she thought, but it was well hidden, and she couldn't fetch it and fight off the treacle. Inches from Sabrina's face, Tess took a deep breath and screamed! Every bit of glass in the room shattered at the noise. Sabrina would feel a wave of death mixed up in the banshee wail that would disorient and deafen her temporarily. Tess kept it going, waiting to be dropped. With the glass shattered, the dead began to slowly shamble towards them.

In addition to Tess's super sonic scream, another voice was paired with it. Sabrina might hear the screaming of a black goat, mixed in with that of the necromancer.

[Harlequin]

The sound Tess made cut through Sabrina's head like a knife, curling her reaching fingers reflexively into a fist and sending her staggering a step backwards. Worse still, it vibrated through the Treacle, loosening its hold and causing a spasm that wracked the witch's bones where it held them.

vision momentarily blacked, Sabrina heard the joined voices and snapped her teeth together, hissing an infernal curse through them. Her nose was filled with choking dry and dust and death, but under it she could smell Black Phillip.

As her vision cleared, her head whipped around, knocking a thin braid loose from the crown about her head. The dead were closing in. She was outnumbered, and possibly outgunned. 

Another word ground out from between her teeth sent Tess and her minions reeling as an invisible force pressed out in a shockwave from her body. In the same moment, long strides carried her across the room, focused on Tess's prize: the Scroll.

[Black Philip]

Tess fell to the floor was an "oof" sound, as her body hit hard marble. She'd been dropped, and the treacle retreated towards it's mistress in some kind of distress. Tess scrambled ungracefully to her feet, almost tripping again, but managing to find her balance. Just as she began to move, Sabrina's spell sent her spine first into a column, and she cried out loudly in pain. A few of the risen mummies collapsed under the great witch's s magic, now just piles of bone, cloth and hair. From her place on the floor, she pointed at Sabrina.

"Resurrexit Quaene dominae defendere immolabitque gigantis canis."

The Latin fell easily from her mouth. Her back still throbbed in pain, but the remaining dead started moving towards Sabrina, and she'd have to deal with them before she could get to Tess. The younger witch stood again, although this time her back injury forced her down to a knee. She'd never get to her weapon like this. She closed her eyes, imagined the item, and began calling it to her hand. She could see Sabrina moving towards the scroll. That was fine. Tess had another way of getting it. Her lips moved rapidly.

Translation: Risen Ones, defend your mistress, and kill that giant bitch.

[Harlequin]

As the dead moved in, Sabrina snatched the scroll from its housing -- meant to display, not to protect. It pained her to roll the ancient text between her hands like so much newspaper, but she was short on time. She turned to face the mummies again, lips curling when she found their advance blocked her view of Tess.

But that worked both ways.

Sabrina was no stranger to the item she held, and knew attempting to destroy it with the tools currently at her disposal would only harm her -- but transfiguration was not destruction.

That did mean such a feat was easy; the scroll fought her for every folded molecule as she forced it into itself, pressing the ends of its rolled form between her hands until it was no larger than a tab of acid. The touch of dead flesh at her wrist broke her concentration just as she slipped the shrunken scroll beneath her tongue with one long finger.

Another grunted word, and flames licked dry skin where it touched hers, but the dead knew no pain or fear -- nothing but their mistress's word. Wreathed in fire, Saint Sabrina was pulled to her knees.

[Black Philip]

Tess kept chanting, her hand held outright as she waited. Sabrina had acquired the scroll, but she wouldn't hold it very long. The dead were also doing their main job of distracting her, and so Tess had the time she needed to finish her spell. The bone tusk flew from someone unknown hiding place and landed squarely in Tess's hand. It's power radiated through her. At that moment, Sabrina's fire spell engulfed the dead, but Tess only laughed at the other witch's obvious lack of knowledge about the walking dead. Zombies felt no pain, and so flaming corpses continued their assault. They were clawing at her now, moving her to her knees and desperately trying to tear at flesh. The song reached it's zenith, and Tess levitated high into the air.

"Stop," she yelled to her flaming minions. They did as they were told, Sabrina now on her knees. Tess focused the tusk on her opponent. Sabrina would feel repelled from Tess, like she needed to back up right away. The parts of her magic that were based in her demon ancestry would feel weaker. Tess was unsure if the treacle was demonic in nature, but since it and Sabrina were symbiotic lifeforms of one another, if it was demonic it would feel repulsed as well.

"Like this little diddy," she mocked, moving the wand in semi circles. "I picked it up for Brael, but figured it would work on you too, demon."

"Now," she said more seriously. "Give me the scroll and I'll let you keep your unfashionable and pointless life. Resist me, and I'll make you feel pain."

Tess thought it was a rather fair trade, and cackled at Sabrina's predicament, her lips forming a tight, but cruel, smile.

[Harlequin]

Though they might not feel pain, the ancient dead were as dry as tinder and the flames tore through them even as they clawed at Sabrina's flesh. Before they burned to ash, however, two of them got hold of one wrist behind the witch's back, and pulled. With a shouted phrase, they were dust -- but not before Sabrina felt something give, and her arm fell useless to her side.

Soot-streaked and stinking, Sabrina staggered halfway to her feet as the onslaught was called off --

-- and was back down, every part of her concentrated on not skittering backward across the floor like a mouse as Tess pointed the tusk at her.

Sabrina looked up at her aggressor from beneath a curtain of ash-matted hair, torn from its intricate braids by the hands of the dead. Her eyes flickered from black to their normal eerily paleness like television static. "I think it's cheap, " she spat, finally, speaking in words that would be comprehensible to Tess for the first time since the fight began, "I think you're nothing without your tricks or your master, viper."

Cheap, but effective. Sabrina realized all at once that she would not win this fight; not while Tess had... whatever that was, that made her blood feel like water, and compelled her to run. Trying would kill her. Rage boiled under her skin.

Opening her mouth, she scraped the scroll from beneath her tongue with one long fingernail and flicked it away into the shadows and rubble. Shrunken as it was, it would take Tess time to find it, and still more time to undo Sabrina's transfiguration. She had to get out of there.

With the other witch was momentarily distracted, sabrina bit hard into the inside of her cheek, causing blood to well under her sharp canines and cuspids. With her blood in her mouth and power in the word, she called her father's name: "CHTAHZUS'AAK!"

[The Cedar Witch]

Summoned in a half-seated position, he sank to one knee and balanced himself on one fist.  Wide eyes surveyed the room, taking in the broken glass, ashes, and rubble.  This blonde must be Tess.  Reanimated dead and Sabrina's involvement were the only pieces Zeus needed to be convinced.  Any hint of a buzz he'd gotten from the whiskey evaporated.

The build of rage that began at being summoned again, half-expecting he'd be brought into a containment circle, only intensified at the sight of Sabrina's injurious state.  With his human form sloughing off, Chtahzus'aak drew himself to his full height beside his daughter.  The unmistakable vibration of angelic magic led his eye to the wand in Tess' hand.  He wasn't prepared for this battle, but that wasn't to say he was unarmed.  He never left the compound without a few tricks up his sleeve.  But he had Sabrina's state to keep in mind - getting her to safety outranked fighting the necromancer.  The risks were too high, especially without knowing what that object was.  If he'd only had enough time to alert Brael, then they'd have the necromancer for sure.  Magic or not.

Shadows began to bead like black sweat across the crimson surface of his twisted horns,  snarling or giggling creatures with thousands of eyes and many more jagged teeth.  They rushed forward impregnating each dark corner until the darkness swelled, teeming with movement, multiplying and gathering together to rush the necromancer.  They would provide enough of a distraction for now.  The necromancer would be long gone by the time he'd gotten Sabrina to safety, for sure.  What a wasted opportunity.

Chtahzus'aak kept his eyes on Tess and reached a large hand toward Sabrina to take, intent on pulling her into the shadows to make a quick getaway.  It should work - she was half shadow herself, and a witch.  Something akin to excitement bubbled through the urgency, the tendril of thought that he'd be first to usher her into the shadows.  But that was all beside the point.  He'd ask her where to take her when they'd left the museum.

[Black Philip]

Tess rolled her eyes at Sabrina's insults. They were the desperate words of a defeated woman. The younger witch laughed darkly as her rival finished speaking. It was so cute to see her act tough. The song ended, but Tess waved a hand and something new began to play. Holding Out For A Hero started echoing through the museum's halls. She lost herself in the tune for a moment, as Sabrina's and Tess's various pyrotechnics began to spread to other areas of the room. Soon, the whole museum would be a blaze.

"Cheap? Stop projecting your home made looking outfits onto my magic! Face it. I'm new. You're old. I'm a millennial. You're what? From the bronze age? I'm sure you were once a bad bitch, but now look at you. If it wasn't so boring it would be sad."

Sabrina was arrogant even in defeat. Tess had beaten her without using Black Philip at all. He waited on the other side of the ether. No, she'd won this little witch fight because she was prepared. Fighting a more powerful opponent head on was suicide, and Tess valued her cause too much to just die. She'd laid her trap, and carried it through. She could feel his faith in her growing.

The scroll was flung across the room, and Tess let her eyes follow it's trajectory. Once she saw the general rubble pile it landed in she returned to hear Sabrina utter a name.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who serves a dark master," she began to insult, but the black goat whispered into her ear.

The words you fool. We need the words. Forget the witch. You've made your point.

Tess dared disobey her master, and stared at Sabrina as the portal opened bringing a new player into the fight. He seemed to have been caught relaxing, and even once he shed his human disguise Tess realized this demon was nothing compared to Lucifer himself. Sabrina's new aid would not be enough to save her. Tess was about to introduce herself, but the witch's head jerked suddenly - and painfully - to the right. Her eyes turned black and her mouth opened. Just like the day Sabrina had first met Tess, a portal seemed to grow out of her mouth, filling the room and dousing the light from the flames around them. The face of a goat stared at the demon and the demon-witch.

"CHTAHZUS'AAK," the goat screamed! "ENTER INTO THIS CONFLICT AT YOUR OWN PERIL! THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING! YOUR PET DEMONS WILL NOT BE ABLE TO SAVE YOU. YOUR WITCH CAN NOT SAVE YOU! ONLY WE CAN SAVE YOUR KIND."

To any human, the speech would've been gibberish, but Zeus spoke the dark and guttural tongues of the deeper hell planes. A shade of the goat flew at the father and his daughter, carrying with him a wave of hellish despair. He needed his conduit to affect this world, but Tess's magic was strong now thanks to him. Tess's mouth closed just in time to redirect the wand away from Sabrina.  She used the wand's magic to create a shield of angelic light, warding away the shadows. She was able to repel them, but for a moment Tess feared what would happen if they were able to tear at her.

She would not be able to kill Sabrina and get the scroll, and she was only willing to disobey her patron so much. She moved over to the rubble pile and called for Book to join her. A hopping bag of tricks ended up next to her knees, and Book flew out and into her hands. She used the same spell to summon the scroll that she'd used to summon the bone tusk, and within a few seconds, a tiny fragment flew into her hands.

Escape now, Black Philip hissed. The demon might return, and a dragon comes for you now.

Tess didn't have time to dissect the metaphor about dragons, and quickly flipped through the pages of Book, finding the spell she still needed to teleport.

"Re structurae spatium, dele me de campo!"

A strike of lighting  crashed through the ceiling, causing more damage to the museum, and taking Tess with it back into the sky. She ended up inside her apartment. She'd gotten the scroll, and almost killed Sabrina. She now had the words needed to summon Black Philip. Rather than write her own spell, she would use one designed to summon a being like her patron. Black Philip had insisted that the scroll had the power to bring him into this world, and now it was her's. She wondered if Sabrina would've died if she knew the truth.

[Harlequin]

Sabrina was already reaching for her father's hand as the other witch spoke, spewing her childish insults. Half-listening, a sharp sadness struck her: Tess couldn't be much different in age from Astrid. What had gone so wrong in her? What had driven her to this point -- a shadow of a human, too dangerous and reckless to live?

Hopefully Astrid would return from her trip with an answer.

Sabrina also understood the Black Goat's speech, and its urgency. She grasped Zeus's hand, and the shadows swallowed them before the Devil's shade could reach them.

For a moment, Sabrina felt like she was drowning. All was cold and black and choking, and her grip on her father's hand tightened. It passed in a moment -- not in the sense that she surfaced, but in the sense that something shifted, and she could breathe again. She spoke to the darkness, voice heavy with weary, "Zeus, please take me home."