Magic could do many things. It could heal the sick, cure the lame, even help to remove those aching sores on your back you've been meaning to see a doctor about. But, as Ludmilla had just found out, it could not dull the sharp, stabbing pain caused by, say, somebody poking you in the eyes with their dirty fingers as they tried to run through the space you were occupying*. She squealed like a pig, clutching at her eyes like she'd been mortally wounded. She rubbed at her face with the palm of her hand, using the table for support. But when she'd opened her eyes again the girl had gone, running down the alley behind her and chasing after the girl in the amazing transforming jacket. 

[color=BF00BF]"Ass!"[/color] She yelled back, swinging a fist for emphasis. [color=BF00BF]"I hope your house appears live on CNN, drkadzijo!"[/color]

At least the pair of them were heading for the other magical girl in the vicinity. That blonde with the magical torture implements. Maybe they'd die a hilariously bloody death at her hands. Still, even then, that meant there were four magical girls in the city. Including her. She lent an elbow on the recently vacated stall, considering her options. Four in a city the size of Danzig was difficult. It would be too many variables, too much going on. Too many teenage girls thinking that superpowers made them into the übermenschess, or however the female version of übermensch was spelled. Überfrau? Whatever, not important. 

The sharp stinging pain in her left eye was starting to dissipate, and she risked cracking it open and letting the sun in. The big bright watery blue world gradually began to dry out and sharpen, the blobs and blurs settling down and becoming a figure, diminutive in size and scaling the cathedral's tower. Obviously magical. No normal human moved like that without gravity coming over demanding to know what they thought they were doing up there. That was five magical girls. In a city of less then a million. Waaay too many. And they were brazen, too, thinking nothing of transforming in alleyways or legging it halfway up historic thousand-year old buildings for a neat view. Boy, was this a real spanner in the works. 

Or maybe not, she considered, turning away and glancing at a shop sign like she just hadn't noticed the magically endowed girl perched on a chistian-themed crow's nest above the city. More magical girls would mean more little sister types who wanted to grow up to be big and strong like their siblings. The problem would have to be keeping the big name magical girls in this town at odds with each other, constantly feuding amongst themselves. Then she could pull off the plan without too much of a hitch. The problem would be if they were all in one big group, or coven or whatever it was they called it here. A Walpurgisnacht waiting to happen.  

Somebody tapped at her shoulder. It was a middle aged woman with a face full of chins holding a hankercheif out. She smiled, warmly, and took one, dabbing at her face and muttering a [color=BF00BF]"Thank you"[/color] in response. She looked back at the cathedral, intent of showing her companion she'd seen, but the girl had disappeared. Oh well. Hatching evil plots all day could give one such a headache, best not to try anything now.