(Untitled)

[i_hate_alistair]

WHO: crucioyou and i_hate_alistair
WHERE: Some dark, secluded part of the city
WHEN: Saturday evening
WARNINGS: Evil witches being evil witches. Probably the torture and possible death of some NPCs.
SUMMARY: Morrigan happens upon Bellatrix, who is up to no good.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, then whatever!

Comments

[pureblood]

Unlike Morrigan, Bellatrix knows exactly what Christmas is. But instead of the holiday cheering her up and filling her with joy and goodwill and all that, it merely serves as a reminder of what she and the Dark Lord were so close to attaining, only for Bella to be snatched away to this godforsaken place right at the moment of their triumph.

Needless to say, Bellatrix isn't in a very good mood right now, and she decides to take it out on some hapless individuals instead of staying in her hideous Muggle apartment all day. She is completely engrossed in torturing the poor people and doesn't notice the cat that decides to observe her.

[i_hate_alistair]

After a few moments, the cat stands on its hind legs and begins to grow larger, its hair seeming to melt away and paws becoming more distinctly human, though the eerie yellow eyes are retained. Soon Morrigan stands in the alley, arms crossed but with a slightly amused expression on her face.

And even if Bellatrix doesn't notice her transformation, one of the victims does, who proceeds to call out for help, obviously thinking that she's one of those infamous 'heroes' that patrol the streets. She scoffs loudly. "Help yourself, fool. I see no reason to waste my power on you."

[pureblood]

Bellatrix spares Morrigan some wary attention when she begins to transform. She shows no sign of surprise -- Animagi may be rare, but nothing to be surprised at. In fact, she looks ready to attack the other witch -- that is, until she begins speaking. Bella lets out a cackle instead.

"Care to join me?" She ignores the cries of the victims. "I've barely started on them."

[i_hate_alistair]

Morrigan looks amused by the thought, if not particularly eager at first. She walks over to the victims, grabbing one by the jaw and glaring at his frightened face without sympathy. Though she generally prefers torture and murder in pursuit of a goal, this idiotic holiday has put her in a foul mood.

"And what have these imbeciles done to warrant such attention? If they were screeching those horrible songs about snow and bells and such things, I can hardly blame you."