[centre][img]http://i1105.photobucket.com/albums/h351/EsmeTyler/maggies%20kids_zps6x0klffm.jpg[/img][/centre]
[centre][h1][color=A9F5A9]Maggie Spencer-Adeyemi[/color][/h1][/centre]
[centre][i]Location: 30B Faraday Heights[/i][/centre]
[centre]Interacting with [@Write] (Yukiko) and [@MiddleEarthRoze] (Stefani)[/centre]

Upon the off-white expanse of her ceiling there were five cracks, three of which had only come to be after she had arrived at 30B and taken residence in this banal square of a room. The largest crack, running from the corner looking over the frame of the doorway and zig-zagging clear across to the other side, ran a  length of thick vines down the breadth of it, that branched out freely towards the top of her wardrobe situated in the far right-hand corner. The other two cracks that had appeared in the room since her appearance housed spindlier leaves, that hung down like thin curtains, changing length at will to either touch the floor or huddle towards the ceiling. All three collections of flora, perpetually swaying softly in an nonexistent breeze, would sprout flowers of any random variety, the breed changing and shifting depending on any variable, from the time of day to the mood and energy of the rooms occupant.

Maggie, from her vantage point laid atop her iron wrought bed, drifted her gaze from where she had been counting the cracks in her ceiling, and gazed upon the vines, who fluttered and preened in their decoration for the day. [i]Hibiscus[/i], Maggie mused inwardly, a hand idly playing with the thick helmet of her hair, [i]commonly grown in Asia and bloom in the sun[/i]. She turned her head to rest against her right shoulder, peering at the window, covered by a set of floor-length blinds, and no doubt concealing the harrowing, chilling weather of London in January outside. A small smile curved into the corner of Maggies lips, her plants always seemed to have a sense of humor, or at least some vague sense of irony.

With a soft sigh, Maggie drew the hand, that had been toying with the wiry curls of her hair, down her face, blinking several times up at her ceiling again, and thought, again, that she should get out of bed. 

She had checked her phone, charging on her bedside table, as soon as she had woken, the automatic weather updates declaring the weather, an accompanying update from the BBC news site affirming the storm brewing, and explaining the basis behind it. Maggie hummed thoughtfully as she recalled the news report, burrowing deeper into her plush duvet as the wind gave another heavy howl outside. This business with the Fae had little to do with her, and typically she never spent too many a thought on them. Really...since this international outing, this explosion of creatures uprising, demanding rights and protection, in the face of all of it Maggie had really just got on with it, she went to lectures, she went to work, she woke up, she went to sleep. 

[i] "The key thing you need to do sweetheart, is stay the same." her Mother advised, striving around the entirety of the living room, a mumble of a spell from closed lips and magic dancing between her fingers, "Do what you've always done, don't panic, don't avoid questions and just give mundane answers." Evelyn stopped in the centre of the room, tall and imposing, before making a sudden line towards the balcony doors, startling an idling Yukiko out of the way. Maggie watched as her Mother ran a singing hand in an X across each tall pane, the glass pulsing as she inscribed a new ward. "Act confused as if it's completely ridiculous that they're asking you these sort of things, make them trust you, don't trust them" Evelyn commanded, peering out the window at the sky before turning back to address her Daughter firmly, speaking in a tone that left no room for argument.

"You can't give them any chances Maggie, you can't trust them. They've drowned us, and burned us and hung us, and that type of hate, that anger and fear, it doesn't go away. But you'll be fine, you can hide, trust in me and trust in the Coven, you'll be fine. They've been hunting us for centuries, we've learned how to adapt."[/i]      

Maggie lifted a hand out from her duvet, reaching for her phone and unlocking it, the screen snapping on to the trending news report she'd been reading previously. This 'Helsing' manifesto was nothing new anymore, everyday a new story, a new expose, a new smear campaign blazed across a homepage, a global trending hashtag, evangelical sites...

Maggie released a slow sigh into her duvet, the sound muffled by the plush fabric, and placed her phone on her bedside table again, slowly shifting the warmth of the duvet off her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, bare toes brushing the cold bare wooden boards of her floor as she stretched for a few long seconds, running a hand through her hair. Idly running a hand in greeting through the draping vines that hung from her ceiling, Maggie made for her desk chair, picking up the thick woolen jumper that lay on the chair and pulling it over her head. Padding across the floorboards she approached her door, noting the muffled voices out in the main room, and opened the door, closing it behind her.

Maggie stood still outside her room for a few seconds, giving a small hum in greeting to the wall of creeping vines that arched around her doorway and stretched into the living room/kitchen. After the vines gave a short quiver in response, Maggie moved the short distance down the hallway, rounding the corner into the main room and surveyed that mornings happenings. 

She spied Yuki, hunched in front of the television, dressed for the day and poised in delicate but obvious anger, when Maggie peered over at the screen and saw the news she could guess why. Tugging slightly on the hem of her jumper, Maggie drifted pointedly towards the ensuite kitchen, giving a small nod to Stefanie before weaving around her, padding over towards the coffee machine. Lifting one of the mugs hanging on the small wooden mug tree next to the machine, Maggie poured herself a cup of warm coffee, turning around to pan her eyes around the room, leaning back against the counter as she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip.