[hr][center][h1][color=aquamarine]Veronica Edwards ~ The Portraitist[/color][/h1][/center][hr]
[@Mistress Dizzy]

Veronica nodded, following one of the more substantial threads. She was sure she could see patterns in the network already, hints as to where the Hydes would converge, but right now their job was to stop them reaching that point. Her pace sped up, the thread thickening as she and Amarantha neared their target.

Despite her focus, she caught snippets of nearby conversation, two workers exchanging ghost stories as they hauled crates. [i]No wonder,[/i] Veronica thought - it wasn't just sleep deprivation or boredom making their imaginations run wild. [color=aquamarine]"In a way, they're right about hauntings,"[/color] she murmured, craning her neck. [color=aquamarine]"And there's proof."[/color]

A patch of the mist seemed to grow darker and denser, something moving though it. Where equally thick threads stretched, other forms drifted into view, masses of limbs flailing from the fog.

[hr]
[@Suneli] [@Sinsystems]

A short distance away in the park, a sharp, agonised yell sounded, along with the snapping of jaws that only Lilith and Jacqueline would hear. From out of the trees, a man lurched, blood seeping through the old ragged clothes that swamped him as he clasped slashes on his side. His other arm hung slack from a bite wound at the shoulder. While some Hydes contented themselves with draining their victims, witches would know some to strike in more direct ways and feed on the ensuing primal responses.

Not that said Hydes showed interest in finishing the job. Two spectral forms, each one a twisted mix of human and feline, ran past. "Phantom cats", as people dubbed such out-of-place big cat glimpses, but this man didn't seem to have caught sight of his attackers. He stared around, wild-eyed, as his stumbling slowed, before crumpling to the ground.

Only the laboured rise and fall of his chest showed that it wasn't too late for him.