Fiona about Houston (by invitation)

Houston: Soon to be the third largest city in America. And not because of what happened in New York.

Her house was in order. That was worth something. In order and quite nice. But sometimes you just had to get out. A childhood in California had spoiled her, Fiona reflected. So many trees, so much natural wonder. And rolling hills. Texas had an almost superhuman flatness, made anthills look like Everest by comparison. But in this park at least, she could get back to nature.

She tried to tell herself she wasn't looking for that funny little man with the chess board that had been here yesterday, had seemed almost to expect her. It was spooky is what it was. Creepy. And yet somehow--enticingly mysterious, like that book that you don't want to read but can't bear to be denied the ending.

Today, however, he was not to be found. And so she walked along the water's edge, ran a hand absently through the bright red hair she didn't really have, let the green cape she wasn't really wearing flap lightly in the gentle breeze. She smiled calmly and let her eyes drift closed for just a moment.

A couple of days ago, Bliss lamented needing to stay in Texas for relaxation. All in all she could find very little interesting outside of the hub of traffic and humidity, but she settle in to a small park with a book one day to take in nature. She dropped the book into the lap of the wrap tied around her waste, covering the bottom portion of her blue and red swim suit. "This sucks."

A boy just shy of ten adjusted the lining of his swimming shoes around his ankles. "Lady, if you don't like it, you can just go home."

A severe glare appeared from beneath the sunglasses rising across her forehead and capping atop her head. "Shut up. What are you eight? You think you can give me life advice. Do you know who I am?"

"I don't care. I'm going swimming, and my teacher told me people like you are only mean because you are unhappy inside."

"Oh, you mean your teacher who uses a degree to make thirty thousand a year to have kids not listen to- oh he's gone." Bliss pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. "Maybe teaching is hard." Not wanting to take her eyes off the kid who rebuffed her (hoping she could watch him drown), Bliss clumsily reached for her drink. She found the circular glass with the back of her hand with enough force to knock her saving grace to the ground. Blaming everything but her coordination, Bliss grabbed her over shirt and wallet and began to walk towards the pier to order another strongly watered down screwdriver.

In a sparsely populated park, Bliss managed to make note of everyone moving about the area in attempts to balance her need to be away from direct contact, but also to put herself in enough room for people to notice her. It was in that state of mind she noticed a red headed woman moving along the edge of the water. Her demeanor did not come off as someone who just arrived, but Bliss did not mean to make any contact with her for no reason. Instead, she would continue on her way and merely float a bottle of vodka away from an unaware stranger, pour a three ounces, and then float the bottle back before doing the same thing with a pineapple flavored orange juice.

There's always a presence, always a big fish to be appeased and mollified. I need to find out who that is, to present myself, she considered. What extent of domain would be claimed? Just the city of Houston? Harris County? Perhaps even a quarter of the state? Texas is a big place, but Austin is so... so very... personality-ish. It must have a presence all its' own. Someone may be further south, perhaps overlapping into Mexico? But Houston is just... there has to be a presence here. And I must...

The breeze shifted. Fiona's eyes opened. No, no the breeze hadn't shifted--it was something else. Something... there was movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned. Had that vodka bottle been there before--next to that resting man? Of course it was. You noticed it on the way over. You're just getting jumpy.

Jumpy. That's all it was. Fiona turned, took in the foliage, admired the faint tickle of the breeze against her neck. There was a splash as of someone young or at least energetic leaping carelessly into the water. The subtle movements of insects, a snake in the underbrush, a bird in the sky, and that woman.

She's watching me. No she wasn't. She was very clearly not looking Fiona's way. Although she could very well have averted her gaze when she saw me turning? She shook her head. Still jumping at shadows. Nevertheless, it was company, human contact. Fiona had always been personable and she would need to double-down on that, she was a southerner now for goodness sake.

Fiona smiled widely, an unseen but sincere smile perfectly mirroring the smile that people actually saw--Surely it's the other way? The facade mirroring me, not the other way around? She strode toward the woman, hand outstretched. Fiona LeFey. It's a pleasure to meet you.

A hand broke dangerously close to Bliss' pour zone. "Lefey?" Without a spoon, Bliss simply went to shaking her drink by forming a vortex in the middle. "Are you from the French part of Narnia?" Too much orange juice tipped the balance of her taste buds. The prodigal vodka bottle flew out towards Bliss again. Making use of the outstretched hand, Bliss rested her glass in Fiona's palm while she took the top off the bottle and poured a generous amount of alcohol into her drink. Bliss recovered her drink and took a just as generous sip.

Not wanting to keep Fiona hanging for too long in the spirit of friendship, Bliss touched Fiona's fingers and pushed them back into the red head's palm. "Bliss." Licking a few traces of vodka from her lips, Bliss chattered her teeth. "That's my name. Not what I'm feeling about meeting- So, you seem friendly enough..." The bottle of vodka floated back from her possession towards the men drunk enough to not notice magically disappearing bottles of alcohol. Probably better that way. "Not that I'm suspicious of you greeting me, but what exactly are you up to?" Looking down to her drink, a difference arose between the two. "Probably should've made you one too. Do you want one? It might make whatever you're doing at this lake more enjoyable." The last drop ran down Bliss' chin, breaking against the back of her hand wiping away the alcoholic fruit juice. "I know it does for me."

Fiona made it a point *not* to notice the flying bottle in any visible way, nor the glass making its' momentary home betwixt her fingertips. Her smile remained intact though betraying a hint of a curve as she answered, "Well thank goodness you find me sufficiently friendly. I'd hate to think I had bruised your delicate ego. I would say the French part of Tolkein's elven lands--but I think that's a bit redundant." Don't start talking about Tolkein and Lewis both drawing from Northern Mythology to further a Christian message. She doesn't care about that. And don't make fun of the name 'Bliss'. It's low-hanging fruit. You can do better.

As she talked, as she thought, Fiona watched. Watched the woman. The evolution of her expressions, the movement of her eyes. The woman was safe. Not safe--there is something eminently dangerous there. But not an immediate threat either. "What am I up to?" she repeated, as if contemplating a riddle. "Oh, I don't know. I thought I'd just sit here drinking other people's libations and watching that woman by the lake just a little too intently--perhaps she just caught my eye, perhaps I was sent to watch her. Wait, no... no I'm sorry that's you." Is it possible for a grin to be both disarming and sharp? Successful or not, that is what Fiona aimed for.

She seemed almost to float gracefully into the bench a couple of feet from Bliss as if greeting an old friend. "Oh, none for me thanks--although I really do appreciate the offer. But I like to keep a clear head when having pleasant conversation with lovely people that could conceivably be hired assassins sent to wipe me from the face of the Earth." This was followed by something which was not quite heavy enough to be a light laugh. "Not that you would ever be such a thing--just, this is how one makes casual conversation, isn't it?"

This drink must be pretty good, because this woman overshot all expectations Bliss formulated. "Wow, that thing you said about Tolkien was the most normal thing to come from you in a solid three minutes." A taste of orange juice poured over her taste buds as they rushed back, filling the back of her throat with pour judgment. "I'm pretty sure if I don't stop you you'll go on to some other tangent about-" Bliss took a moment to wipe a loose drip from running down the side of her glass while Fiona continued on with a matter of hypothetical situations. "Assassins? Can we go back to Middle Earth or wherever it is you live? I think I made this too strong."

While Fiona ran through her motions, Bliss looked around the rest of the lakeside. "So, you watch people intently, hoping they aren't assassins. Well, that is good to know. Also, you willingly divulge information like that. Another good thing to know. You are full of good things to know." One last drop slid down the edge of the glass and fell to the Bliss' finger. "Not that you would tell me anyways- or maybe you would, you don't seem like you are subtle enough to lie, but did someone send you to spy on me? Can't hurt to ask I guess." Unless it actually did of course.

Fiona ran a finger absently over the texture of the bench beneath her. Too poorly maintained. Starting to splinter. Someone could get hurt from this thing. I wonder whether I should be blaming the city, the county or the state? Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter in any case.

“Normal?” she responded. “Well, I’ll try to avoid the topic then. Wouldn’t want to come across as normal.” For just a moment, Fiona tried to pin down the woman’s accent. Not that it mattered. Houston was notoriously unreliable in that regard. A port city, attracting people from everywhere. Far too much of a melting… well, a salad bowl really, to draw any sort of real conclusions.

I don’t watch people intently, she told herself. I really need to start doing that. “That’s an interesting question. No, nobody sent me to spy on you. I honestly don’t know who you are. That wasn’t an interesting question. The interesting question is whether I would tell you if I were. I can see where one might want to make the claim frivolously in order to throw someone off guard. Although it strikes me as far safer to avoid the subject entirely and not plant the idea in the surveilee’s head in the first place.” She paused a moment, allowed the concept to roll around in her head—or, more accurately to leap around in electric something. Doesn’t the brain work through some sort of electric connections? Not relevant to this conversation.

“I really wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “I have no experience with the whole espionage thing and how it would play out in real life. I’d probably be far more likely to get trapped in the necessary weasles and false tropes of the fictional genre.”

Espionage aside, there was little about this woman Bliss could take too much stock in. Her mannerisms came across with some aloofness to them and her smile kept Bliss somewhat uneasy about her intentions. Or, maybe she was legitimately nice. Bliss confused the two a lot. "I can see where your mind might take you to dangerous places in the espionage world." Lifting the glass in the way most befitting a telekinetic, Bliss returned the glass to its place of origin before turning back to Fiona. "So, you're a trope huh? That's interesting." Bliss felt empty in her hand, but not her gut. That truth serum she downed started to work its way up, first in the form of a half covered burp, then in a deluge of information. "Yeah, I guess espionage has a way of following me. I don't know if it follows me or the people I find, but weird stuff and dumb people have a way of showing up whenever I'm involved."

Bliss patted her stomach. "But, I'm pretty sure my secrets safe with you not spying on me." Little did attention did Bliss assign to everything else around her. Walking past Fiona, a floating head full of vertigo made its way towards the woods of the park. The unbeaten path made a quick casualty of Bliss' flip flop. Muttering some curse in her native tongue, Bliss examined what damage happened and how salvageable her shoe could be during this trek.

Her trek stopped short as the cracking of branches in the distance brought Bliss' attention around. "Um, God, what was her name?" Bliss closed her eyes to try to think while the sound grew closer. "Lefey? Lefey is that you?" No response came but the splashing of water from the lake while the ground beneath Bliss turned to murky swamp land. "What did I just step in? Wasn't like this a minute ago. Is it raining?"

A hush began to creep from a fog cloud sprawling out from the center of the lake. Before Bliss could step upon onto a solid rock, a voice cracked from behind her. "You must come with me." A pair of boney fingers wrapped around Bliss' upper arm with a sever grip. Bliss felt her body grow cold.

For just a moment, Fiona sighed and allowed her eyes to brush the clouds overhead. “I’m not a trope—I would be misled by a trope. Well, I suppose we are all tropes to some degree.”

Floating objects ought to disturb her, surely. The intentionality behind it all certainly seemed to insinuate that the woman controlled it. Was this magic? Was this someone Fiona particular needed to be befriending? Or reporting to? Or… “I think…” She was interrupted by a belch.

“Nope, not spying,” she verified. “I’m just one of the dumb, weird people you…” But suddenly, Bliss was moving, walking away and… tripping. “Oh dear,” Fiona herself rose approaching and offering a hand when… everything changed.

Emerging fog, shifting sand… Fiona was not sure what was real, but if nothing else this blissless Bliss appeared both chemically compromised and restrained against her will. Daggers of flame appeared from Fiona’s hand and flew toward the strange figure gripping Bliss’s arm. They were not going to hit (she had imbued them with a sensation of intense heat, but not with pain—pain is too likely to initiate a reflexive tightening of his grip), just pass close—hopefully close enough to make the stranger flinch and loosen his grip as Fiona reached forward to grasp at Bliss’s other hand in hopes of pulling her free. (Is the ‘body grows cold’ something Fiona will be able to feel?)

Fiona tried to fully take in all she could perceive. Just what the strange newcomer looked like, how thoroughly the environment had changed—whether they appeared to be elsewhere entirely or just localized changes to the vicinity of the newcomer. She listened and sniffed for hints that the changes could all be some sort of illusion. And she spoke. “Who are you? What do you want with her? What precisely is going on here?” Do not ask whether the fog makes you look fat. Right now, being underestimated is not the goal.

In regular response a simple pull of the forearm against the grasping fingers would pull her arm to safety, but her muscles refused to operate. Something deep in her began to wear away at her resolve. A quick reprieve came as projectiles shot into the hag holding Bliss. With just enough control to take a step forward, Bliss escaped the grip of the hag and began to stutter away. "Cold. Really. Cold."

"An interesting trick." Not feeling the heat or sharpness of the knives, the hag reached out to grab Bliss' arm as Fiona began the struggle to pull Bliss away. The chill from Bliss still lingered along her skin as Fiona embraced Bliss to try and save her. "Let me show you mine." With the channel set between Fiona, Bliss, and the hag, the same cold overtaking Bliss would reach into Fiona as well.

While the cold continued to seep into the duo, the fog continued to roll across the bank. "This place is dangerous. I need to keep you safe." Nothing in the hag's voice sold their security or safety. "But, I don't want any back talk or flailing while I take you to my hovel." The hag continued to tug at Bliss, but also moved her hand to try and grasp onto Fiona as well. While the ground around them grew less solid, the hag noticed her own feet sinking into the ground. Time sunk through the ground like grains of sand through an hour glass.

A shriek began to howl from the fog cloud as the trees behind them began to sink into the quagmire.

Fiona was quick to build on her momentary success, trying to push the oddly stunned Bliss behind her even as she herself stepped forward. This was so very much not what she would have done in the olden days. She would have run. Maybe taking a moment to pull Bliss with her. But certainly she would not be holding her ground like this, interposing herself to deal with the perceived thread even as she channeled magical energies behind her to bring Bliss healing and warmth and a bit of the same for herself. Whether that healing would address intoxication or drugs Fiona didn’t have time to contemplate. She was focused on the hag, and just in case--her body was several inches to the right of where it appeared to be.

“Perhaps this place is dangerous,” her casual voice a stark contrast to her hawklike, attentive gaze, “or perhaps you want to take us somewhere dangerous?” The ground shifted and Fiona tried to move Bliss toward firmer ground, tried to dodge the hag’s reaching hand.

Fiona considered her options. Two roads diverged in a wood… and either could be beset by metaphor-mixing wolves. Ah well, nothing in the middle of the road but yellow lines and dead armadillos. Yes, Fiona was not who she had been, was not the quiet and retreating Lavender. Lavender would never have been so bold as to take this risk. “All right then,” she said, reaching out to pull the hag to safety, hoping she was not dooming herself in the process, “lead on, MacDuff. I’ll avoid talking back and flailing if you avoid taking liberties.” She glanced back at Bliss, not really expecting a response, “Fancy a trip down the rabbit-hole?”

"Okay. I'm going to need both of you to stop what you're doing." Such hostile heat swings in Bliss took their toll on her. Putting her hands on her knees, Bliss expunged any toxins from her own system, but the energy flowing in from Fiona made it the most gentle time Bliss threw up in a forest.

"Perhaps both are right." The hag removed her hand from Bliss' back, but moved behind Fiona and Bliss. "I will not take any liberties, but I do need you to have less of them." While the hag delivered a vague threat, the fog grew closer. Faces began to form in the cloud. Darkness swelled in the gaps making up their eyes, while their hungry mouths gapped at the air. "Now if you don't mind, I don't want you getting lost." A few loops of rope wrapped around Fiona and Bliss, very loosely binding their arms as the hag picked her step up towards her hovel.

"Well this is terrible." Bliss brought her hands up to pull on the rope around her arms. "I know there are far worse things going on, but walking through here without a shoe is killing me."

Deep within the quickly flooding park, an opening hid behind a thicket of wild grass. "Safety. What little there is." The hag would lead the two down a ramp through a sewage run off leading towards the lake. "This is my lake. What little exists above me matters not. Not often at least." A number of stones moved at the push of the hag. Low lights illuminated shelves of vials and trinkets with origins resting somewhere in the ebb of time. "I'll need to take some liberties from you now. You can either assist me in casting away this creature sprawling from the waters, or you can assist me in living longer."

"What is that thing? And why does it want you?" Before Bliss could continue her line of questioning, the hag placed a mushroom in Bliss mouth.

"It's a monster. Older than you need to know. It comes to eat. Rises to haunt. Exists to grow. Every year it rises from its depths and seeks to cleanse the forest of the supernatural creatures who once called this place home. I am the only one left now. Does that answer your question?" With her explanation finished, the hag would pull the mushroom out of Bliss' mouth and throw it into a cauldron. "What say you?"

Faces in the fog. Eyes. And for a moment she found herself searching them, looking past any fear or intimidation they held and instead looking for intent, for hints of communication, trying to understand just what this force was and what really drove its' behavior. She didn't even notice the ropes at first.

And then there were moving. Fiona absently pulled a pair of flats out of the pockets her dress didn't have. "Shoes," she offered, proferring them to Bliss. No doubt the fit would be imperfect, but gift horses being what they were...

"Your lake? Hmmm..." her gaze fell across the vials and trinkets lining the walls. It took a moment for her to decide that she had no idea what any of them were. Fiona tried her hand at releasing her wrists. She really didn't want to grow sharp bone shards to cut the rope, but she kept the change near the top of her mind in case it became suddenly necessary.

"Monster is such a loaded word. Do you know what its' impetus is? And how do we know yours? Does it pose a threat to the innocents of Houston? Do you? Oh, and what can you tell me about magic infrastructure and hierarchy in the area?" Fiona raised an eyebrow and gave another of those sincere smiles that didn't quite match her words.

Fog, she thought. Supernatural witch woman. Probable weaknesses of fog. Probably weaknesses of supernatural witch women. Effects of wind on fog... Vials and gewgaws--how vital were those, how lost would she be without them?

Through her time as an evil fighting hero, Bliss never learned exactly how to put shoes on one handed while being led through a swamp. "Well, it's the thought that counts." Once they stopped long enough for Bliss to come to a halt, she began levitating the shoes down to her feet, giving her enough room to slip her feet into the slightly large shoes. "I guess that will make this situation slightly less terrible."

"You can call it what you want girlie, the being still hungers." Smoke began to rise from the cauldron, lifting the aroma of the mushroom along with a slew of other devilish ingredients. "You have a great number of questions you require to be answered. Care for some unicorn?" Some otherworldly machination kept the hag at ease as she stuck her hand into the pot and removed a chunk of unicorn leg.

"I had a big lunch."

"I saw. It was very liquid and almost did more to flood the forest than the fog monster."

Bliss narrowed her eyes and began a retort when a large piece of unicorn meat entered her mouth. "Muthr ucker."

"This wood use to house a great deal of supernatural creatures. Then they began doing what all creatures in these realms do. When they awoken this creature, they paid with their lives. Little fools and their desires for power. Should have been content living in the ground, eating berries, but they insisted on going deeper into the ground."

Bliss forced the slab of meat out of her mouth (even though it tasted very good- such an odd thing to find a delicious meat and realize it is from a mythical creature), and stood back straight. "So, the other creatures of the forest awoken this thing and..."

"I already said that. With the recession of the mythical lands, the humans terramorphed these lands to their own liking and moved in. I'm partial to finally make some use out of the humans in this area, so I will allow you to assist me. Do I have your assistance? You asked if I was dangerous to the innocents of this land. You have not heard of me enacting any crimes within this land, nor do I have the touch of violence your city has, nor have I harmed either of you."  
"I don't know about this Fiona, it seems..."

Growing impatient with the lack of cooperation from the duo she kidnapped, the hag would make use of her surroundings to place a vial up to each girl's mouth and try to pour some liquid down their throats, willingly or not. "So, do I have your assistance? This is a simple yes or no question. But, I must warn you, the no will require you to assist me in my lab work, and I go through assistants very quickly. You do seem to have an interest in my potions there girlie. And, you can always try more of my cooking."