The sheer amount of people seated in Mr. Seil’s audience was anxiety inducing, which made its mark upon Calista as she eased her way through the crowd and into a seat. He eyes darted between the squirming mass of bodies all around her, which eventually started to coalesce into the provided pews and sundry chairs strewed around the stage. There were familiar faces amongst the sea of countenances, though each show of teeth held a deceptive sweet poison of wicked proportions. The hair on the back of the mage’s neck rose, her collar bones raising from her delicate shoulders in her tense mood. She saw Celleci approach from the writhing horde, and she watched the fallen angel’s approach with capturing eyes; a smile was there, though it held no particular warmth. 

“Good morning, CeCi, I see the night has treated you well,” She returned the other’s greeting openly with an inclination of her head. Her eyes marked every movement of the other’s in her satchel, the glinting of tools catching her intention and she blew a heavy breath from her nose in an effort to calm the rising urge to force herself on the angel, to finally come about their final confrontation that lurked at the edges of every encounter. That was not for this day; Calista merely glutched down the chaotic impulse. She did, however, very much tense and tighten as the other made physical contact. It was miniscule at best, a mere accident perhaps. Though, as she immediately looked to the source, the look gracing the angel’s visage was one of intention. Calista grit her teeth, but kept her face neutral as the other spoke, harmonic tone signing through the witch’s ear. 

“The turning of tides and rotating of pedestals is a prevalent force here, indeed,” She said in response, nodding to the apprehensive faces of those in the audience. Calista followed the angel’s gaze, letting her face fall out of her peripherals uneasily. She often tried to act non-judgemental around those she made frequent contact with, though she suspected their cursed souls suspected her dread. This angel, so different from others of her kind but sharing more than she possibly realized, was quite odd comparatively speaking. These thoughts were justified as weight was added to the illusionist’s slender frame, that of the head of the angel at her side.

Her pulse rose, and slight color came to her alabaster skin. The other’s mouth, so close to the thudding jugular hidden just behind meager skin, ghosted clouds of hot, moist breath across her flesh. She swallow again, looking down to the mischievous imp of an angel under fanning lashes, as honeyed words made their way to her ears once more. “It is… Indescribable to those who have not done so.” She started hesitantly, wondering just how deep the other’s reluctance to her own taint ran. “At first, it felt incriminating, and the water of my baths ran red with the blood of those I cursed to eternal perdition…” She trailed off for a moment, honestly remembering the feeling of horror at her own actions. But the feeling was replaced by the regular catharsis that guarded and reimbursed the mage persistently. “But as all types of pain, the guilt faded. My survival is just as important as those around me: I took comfort that my deeds were not baseless.” 

Her gray eyes, set in large sockets particularly set to watch as many and much as she could, took in the image of the fallen with unabashed, unrelenting scrutiny. Her imagination, so colorful and wandering, rooted a pulsating terror of deception and lead to terrible fantasies of death. Slender, tanned fingers, reaching inside of folded cloth for a hidden dagger, drawing it and slicing unerringly at the throat at hand. Pointed, insidious teeth coated in tasteless poison, breaching fragile skin to sink deep into undulating veins. Tight, gripping hands around her neck, cutting off vital air and sending her into a sputtering coughing fit.Too many variables to limit the possibilities. “As for the effects on the victim,” She used the word freely, caring not for the accusation toward herself, “If I were to answer, my words would be lies. I know not what fate befalls them.” The physical contact continued, at first to her dismay, but after a moment she decided that it’d be best this way: any attempt against her would be noticed. The angel fell silent after a statement of personal damnation, and Calista felt it fitting for the angel to finally come around.

As the Wish Master made his appearance, to the quieting and stilling of the crowd, Calista perked, features forsaken of her usual fleeting attention and diverted directly at the single entity. A dire feeling, comprising of fear, suspicion, and grim determination to succeed past those already taken, settled on her taut shoulders. Her breath caught, hands shook, and she swallowed as a few beads of sweat made their way lazily down the back of her neck. She strained to hear every world, especially those of the questions that spilled from her comrades’ lips. CeCi eventually retreated from her throbbing skin, and she leaned forward, enraptured by the serious implications of the Ringmaster’s words. 

She settled back in her seat as the public conversation turned comical, nausea roiling her stomach into a fit. She placed a hand on her abdomen and worked to quiet her breathing. The introduction of a third party in her lurid delusions did not bode well for the skittish witch. It was unexpected, unnerving, and certainly unwanted. Her eyes flickered around her, to the shocked and frightened faces that were just moments ago alit with carefree pleasantries, and felt an acidic feeling of betrayal in their lying eyes. Her thoughts burned in her skull, reverberating and clashing in a paranoid frenzy as the Witch recalled every recent interaction she could, scanning her memory for any hint of subversion or suspicion. The list was too grand, and too detailed for her to comb through without error, and the thought of letting something slip by frightened her to her core. For all her preparedness, for all her precautions, something, or someone, slipped through the infinitesimal cracks in her perpetual surveillance.