[center][hider=Witch Hunt Cast][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/M7SP0oU.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/FGD7pKH.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/ZnOpQuF.png[/img][/center][/hider][/center]
[center][i][h1]Sixth Sense[/h1][/i]
[i][h3]Part 4[/h3][/i][/center]

[center][b]Location: American Museum of Natural History, New York City
Time: Late Afternoon[/b][/center]
[hr]

Marie let out a quick gasp as Barron began his bloody onslaught, blood rising from the grotesque pool of flesh left behind by Ben’s transformation and boring into the wall raised by the stranger. Holt placed himself between Marie and the fight that was sure to unfold, but the vampire’s efforts were aimed only at the wolves. Within seconds, all three strangers were encased in a cage of blood, drawing them in closer. 

[color=FFE4B5]”Enough . . .”[/color] Marie mumbled, head facing the concrete floor. Rage coursed through her veins. This whole ordeal was taking its toll on her, setting her back from her goal. First a werewolf, then another, and now a confrontational vampire. Gwyneth’s memories were spiraling in the opposite direction while Marie and company stood at a stalemate in New York. It was all too much.

[color=FFE4B5]”Enough!”[/color] Marie screamed, head raised, malice filling every corner of the store-room. A cold chill began to spread over them all as Holt, responding to Marie’s mental cues, allowed his essence to fill the air, frost creeping across the floor, ceiling, and resting displays. Large tables and busts began to rise into the air, influenced by Marie’s anger. They circled Baron’s wall of blood, hovering menacingly. 

[color=FFE4B5]”You,”[/color] she pointed at Baron, [color=FFE4B5]”You just had to come along and make matters worse. Everything was falling into place, he was calming down, we were closer to a solution, closer to getting the hell out of here before you decided to rear your ugly head, but no! Nothing’s ever that easy! You waltz in, offering to help, and then you go all aggro on everyone just for the hell of it, I am so sick of these set backs.”[/color]

Marie drew closer. Despite the chill of the room, she carried with her a supernatural wave of heat, which passed through the wall of blood, bathing the strangers in it. An ethereal wind began to swirl around the room, the clashing elements and temperatures producing a low rumble. 

[color=FFE4B5]”I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, and Elder-Breed Vampire or not, I won’t hesitate if you lift a hand to any of them. So you can either get over yourself and help us, or get the hell away from us. But I swear, make the wrong decision and you will regret it.”[/color]

Marie heard her words, she felt all of her movements, and yet there was a distance between her and her actions. Such a thing happened once before, the first time she felt Gwyneth’s true power, or a fraction of it, in the fight against the Silver Sorceress in Diplodoc’s base. She wondered if that was happening now, if she was tapping into that part of herself which she had forgotten. This confidence was new, rather, new to her. In truth, Marie’s confidence was over five centuries old, and it had made her far more brazen and transformed her into a greater threat.
[hr]

[center][i][h3]Meanwhile . . .[/h3][/i][/center]

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/XUZDPkx.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1][i]Witching Hour[/i][/h1]
[h3][i]Part 1[/i][/h3][/center]

[center][b]Location: Las Vegas, Nevada, The Witches Stronghold
Time: Late Afternoon[/b][/center]
[hr]

[center][i]Deep beneath the desert sands,
Below the mountains and arid lands,
Cracked Earth unfolds to a lively hell,
‘Tis here where all the witches dwell.[/i][/center]

The Las Vegas underworld is far more literal than what its denizens may realize. Just beneath the sinners’ feet lies a haven for even greater sins. What rebellions take place on Earth are nothing compared to those that occur at its center, and the greatest rebellion of all, Witchcraft, finds a just as humble a home beneath the Earth’s surface as in her dense forests. It is here where the most noble reside and mingle, the leaders of the Five Families of Las Vegas, powerful witches and sorcerers whose influence spreads far and deep. They are the ones who support this city, who keep it aloft. And it is here, for now, where their queen resides. 

Hekate, in her truest form, floats about a blackened room, walls covered in occult markings and lined with shelves upon shelves of arcane knowledge. This is her temple, her throne room, the center of her operations in the country. The circular room is host to other fantastical and ethereal features such as vines creeping along marble rafters, starlight reflecting from ornate mirrors forged in the Otherworld, a garden of poisons and herbs to fuel the witches pharmaka, their spells. But at its center lay something from a faery tale, a large well filled with light from a distant land. 

[color=MediumPurple][i]”You are a smart one, Broker,”[/i][/color] she whispers to the pool, perhaps calling to Greed’s mind, sending him a message of congratulations, or perhaps admiring his work. The well revealed pieces of his thinly veiled plan, a newly crafted Soul Stone hovering in the water’s reflection. [color=MediumPurple][i]”To use lost souls in such a way is both commendable and deplorable, but either way, you have crafted a truly dangerous artifact. One has to wonder, what poor soul did you manipulate to create such an unholy stone?”[/i][/color] 

Hekate posed the question to the well, waving a hand over its surface. The water shimmered, a thick fog obscuring her vision. [color=MediumPurple][i]Curious . . .[/i][/color] she thought. Reaching for a vial of dark liquid, a few poisonous herbs, and a small wand, she began to conjure a spell to peer through the wall of obscurity. 

[color=MediumPurple][i]”Graeae, agents of Fate, hear me,”[/i][/color] she began, tossing the herbs into the well, allowing a few drops of the black, viscous liquid to break its surface, and stirring the waters with the tip of the wand. [color=MediumPurple][i]”Lend me your aid. I call upon your omniscience. Grant me your sight, grant me your Eye.”[/i][/color] 

As she spoke the invocation, the cloud began to peel away, a woman’s figure floating in the water’s surface. Her shape was clear, but her face was still unseen, masked by magic. Hekate was annoyed, but she watched the figure for a while, seeing what it was that made her so special. The woman walked into an ornate building, a museum, surrounded by elements of the craft. Hekate recognized this place as the Museum of Natural History in New York. 

[color=MediumPurple][i]”She is but a simple girl, Broker, a lowly witch. How could she have performed and survived such an ordeal?”[/i][/color] Hekate continued watching the scene unfold until something caught her interest. There was a spark, a surge of energy that even Hekate felt. She moved in closer, watching the woman take something from a display. When the two touched, Hekate noticed an invisible glow around the girl, a flash of something powerful. [color=MediumPurple][i]Interesting . . .[/i][/color] she thought. [color=MediumPurple][i]I’ll have to keep an eye on this girl, but first I need to know who she is. And for that, I may need some assistance.[/i][/color]

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that her chamber door opened, allowing a veiled woman to enter. Hekate almost raised her voice to the intrusion, but then she felt the woman’s presence, felt her longing heart. Hekate was touched, brought to the brink of tears. 

[color=MediumPurple][i]”My dear, is it truly you? Have you come to stir my heart and ease my mind?”[/i][/color] Hekate moved in close, feet touching the cold stone floor. 

“Yes my lady,” the woman responded “It is I, and how I have missed your embrace.” She moved in close, engaging in a long hug with the goddess. Pulling back, the woman removed her veil, long, dark locks falling effortlessly onto her pale shoulders, flawless, rosy skin and supple lips kissing the goddess’s cheeks. 

There stood the legendary sorceress, daughter of Aeetes, granddaughter of Helios, niece of Circe, and loyal follower of Hekate. There stood the witch, Medea. 

Hekate smiled, pulling her in closer once again, happy to see one of the few true friends she had ever made. [color=MediumPurple][i]”My dear, we have much to discuss.”[/i][/color]