It was a nice morning. Gogo swung her manriki with a complicated underarm twist at an invisible opponent, smiling. She'd been neglecting her practice, lately, which was silly; she had to be on top form for when she found Black Mamba, and that could be any time. From now on it was an hour a morning at least. Just like old times
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Comments 29
Perhaps just a closer look would be in order.
No need to scare the girl by a sudden onslaught of bees, though. So, quickly and efficiently (as if bees could work any other way), countless bees gathered together to form a pitch perfect replica of Granny Weatherwax.
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And this.
Gogo scrambled to her feet, swearing loudly in Japanese. She went into attack mode almost automatically, swiping the manriki from her midriff at the -- bizarre bee monster thing's chest.
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But still.
The bees parted swiftly, the manriki flying through harmlessly. Then something odd happened; briefly the bees lost coordination, as if no longer interested in being a shape. That was when the voice echoed in Gogo's head.
Really now, was that called for?
And then the bees were back into form.
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"I -- Mistress Weatherwax? Are you making bees attack me?"
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The teenager is returning from his downtime at Hogsmeade, still wearing muggle clothes, stomper boots and pants and the magicked t-shirt with a changing panel (it currently shows a large smile-face). His arms are laden with bags and packages as he passes by, heading for the main gate.
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"Who are you?"
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He watches the Japanese girl tilt her head and blinks in confusion. "Uhm, is... something wrong?" The resemblance really is quite uncanny, except for the hair...
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