we have a complex relationship with our sisters and our cousins

[dark_light]

Amariah is starting a circle in her yard - minting and enchanting can pull heavier duty than witchcraft, and faster, too, but they won't scale unless she wants to hand out copies of her trump cards; novel spells will, since there are many witches across the globe.

And then Jane asks if she wants to be visited, by Juliet's Sherlock - Minus - and Amariah's reply is "Sure, I could take a break." Because she's been at this for a while now and was just about to wish a crick out of her back for the second time this afternoon.

She puts down her pitcher of oil and waits for him to appear.

Comments

[dark_light]

"Heh."

There is a knock at the window. A witch in a crown of live black-eyed-Susan-vine is hovering on her cloudpine there. "Yoo-hoo," she says, muffled by the glass. There's a pardalote daemon perched on her knee, who hops up and down in a friendly sort of way.

Isabella turns toward the window.

"...Hello, Tianetta Nimah!" she says. "I wasn't expecting you!"

"Just passing through," replies Tianetta Nimah. "Let me in."

Isabella hesitates, but she gets up and goes towards the window. [Sherlock, I am so, so sorry to ask, but if she or Hendasamon shows the least bit of interest in you - could you pretend that Steph was under the bed - I'm so sorry.]

[eversomuchfun]

Sherlock remains outwardly calm, but his response over brainphone is an extended snarl.

[dark_light]

[I am so sorry. I can't explain you to her - I couldn't even prove it if I did have to, not without Jane.]

Isabella opens the window, not enough to let the witch in, but Hendasamon is tiny and zips inside. He investigates Petaal and Path first.

"I'm so sorry, Tianetta Nimah, this isn't really the best time," Isabella says.

"I'll owe you a favor," says Tianetta Nimah lightly. "I don't want to have to come back, and I want to talk about those spellcircles."

"I..."

[eversomuchfun]

Steph commences existing under the bed.

Sherlock commences methodically shredding one of the fluffy sheeps on his pajama pants, a single fiber of fluff at a time.

[dark_light]

[I will get rid of them as soon as I civilly can.]

Isabella opens the window the rest of the way. Tianetta Nimah ducks and sails through and props her cloudpine up in the corner. "I saw one partway done in your backyard! Let's go look at it," she says to Isabella, and the witches go down the stairs.

Hendasamon finishes his inspection of Petaal and Path, and finds Steph under the bed in short order.

"I'm guessing the cat is Isabella Amariah's boyfriend's. Who d'you belong to?"

[truthwright]

Petaal changes into a large boa and drops a coil over the side of the bed.

[dark_light]

Hendasamon is briefly distracted. He hops out from under the bed.

"Has she been robbing the cradle?" he asks Petaal archly.

[truthwright]

"Nope," says Petaal, slithering into Kas's lap. He cuddles her and kisses the top of her head. "My sweetie's got like a year on her. We're just special."

[dark_light]

"So it would seem."

He turns his attention back to Steph. "I'm Hendasamon. We hadn't heard about there being likely to be anyone in Isabella Amariah's home apart from her boyfriend, so who are you?"

[eversomuchfun]

"Fuck off," says Steph.

[dark_light]

Hendasamon looks affronted. "My witch is a queen," he says.

"Come up here with us, if you like," Path offers tentatively.

[eversomuchfun]

Steph curls up and ignores Hendasamon.

[dark_light]

"There's no call to be rude," Hendasamon sniffs.

"Hendasamon," says Path. "Come up here with me and Petaal. Steph is in a bad mood."

"Why?" Hendasamon wants to know.

"They miss his girlfriend," Path oversimplifies. "She's far away."

Hendasamon flutters up to the topside of the bed.

[eversomuchfun]

Sherlock continues to denude the fluffy sheep on his knee.

[truthwright]

"It's really sad," says Petaal, becoming a viscacha so Kas can hug her more fluffily.

[dark_light]

"How does he know Isabella Amariah?" Hendasamon asks.

"We met at a bar," says Path dryly. "My Isabella mistook him for someone else she knew."

[truthwright]

"He's fun," Petaal says brightly. "Except when he's too sad."

[dark_light]

"We knew someone with a genet once. I wouldn't have described her as fun," says Hendasamon.

"Did you," says Path politely.

[truthwright]

"What would you have described her as?" says Petaal.

[dark_light]

"That bitch who led my Tianetta's beloved into temptation," says Hendasamon. "This was a good two hundred years ago, so at least there was nothing stopping my Tianetta from putting a dagger in her chest. Ah, those days. You'll have a harder time of it if this one leaves your Isabella for some ghast of a temptress."

"That's our business," says Path frostily.

"I bet you've never even killed anyone," snorts Hendasamon. "All these fancy ideas about immortalizing mortals. Magically fascinating, shortsighted as policy."

"You'd be wrong," says Path in a low, dark voice.

"Ooh," says Hendasamon, "do tell."

"You know perfectly well that wouldn't be very smart of me. But my Isabella has called Yambe Akka's knife."

[truthwright]

Petaal shifts into a honey badger. Kas scritches her unconcernedly.

[dark_light]

"That really is very interesting," Hendasamon says to Petaal. "You don't feel any pull to any shapes?"

[truthwright]

"Nope," says Petaal. She turns into a viscacha again, then a small brown lizard, then a lap-sized dragon, then a genet.

[dark_light]

"How curious," says Hendasamon. "Does it run in your family?"

[truthwright]

She hops out of Kas's lap and hits the floor as a massive male tiger.

"Nope," she says, sitting down and putting just her head back into Kas's lap now that the rest of her will not fit.