Archive World of Darkness: The Academy - 8c: Shh! We're Hunting Wrascally Pwritchawrds!

[Dawn OOC]

Those who had agreed to go braid the lioness in her den were left in the Art Building. Frida’s terribly beautiful painting watched them with two-dimensional eyes, alternately white-dead or green-primal. There was a quiet moment as everyone got used to the sudden, oppressive silence. It wasn’t hard to imagine they were being watched with the eyes of that mural boring into them.

It was also occurring to them that they weren’t sure where Pritchard was. The most obvious place would be at her office; thankfully, Ryan had agreed not to go there. Was she even there? They needed some intel.

[Frida Ricci]

After a few long, awkward moments of silence, Frida turned to Sylvia and and tilted her head inquiringly.

"So do the administrators keep traditional office hours, Ms. Dorn? If so, perhaps one of us should call to make an appointment. Perhaps Renata should express concern about last night's events, and ask if it's okay to come speak with Mrs. Pritchard, and bring a couple friends."

She glanced at Renata and shrugged slightly, a bit relieved to move past the Ravi-related questions.. mostly because she was unaccustomed to having people inquire about her private life. Or of having one for people to inquire about, for that matter.

"Of course, coming with us would mean revealing that you've been cooperating with us. Are you sure you're ready to do that?"

[SalmonMax]

"Good point," Renata said. "Lets keep that ace up our sleeve a bit longer. What we'll do is have Ms Dorn or you give her a call. She'll probably have a listing on the school directory, or you can call the office. I bet they'll give her number to a teacher if not a student."

She paced away, thinking. "Give her a call, and tell her you're in over your heads. Tell her things got wild, you guys panicked and thought she was the bad guy, but now things are cooling off and you want to talk. So, you know, the truth."

"And from there, just sort of...wing it. Just don't mention me."

[Sylvia Dorn]

"Actually, that was more or less my idea. Calling and scheduling an appointment, that is. Presuming there are no objections," Sylvia said, pulling a cell phone out from her jacket pocket, "that's what I'll be doing now."

Flipping the device open, she tapped a few keys and waited. The tell-tale sound of a bored campus operator chimed in, and in short order, Sylvia found herself connected to Pritchard's secretary.

"This is Sylvia Dorn; I'd like to schedule an appointment with Constance Pritchard at her earliest convenience." There was a brief pause, after which Sylvia replied, "Oh yes, she's expecting me, and it's urgent." Another pause. "Yes, I'll wait while you page her."

[SalmonMax]

Renata watched Sylvia curiously, wondering what Pritchard's reaction would be. But she kept eying the door as well. The image of Mari trotting off with Ravi, gazing up at him like some adoring little puppy was stuck in her head.

"Okay, guys, girls, I'm outta here for now. Lets meet up after you've had your chat. Gimme a call."

She ducked out the door and forced herself to wait just outside for a second. It was crazy. No matter what Ravi was or wasn't, Mari wasn't going to be able to handle the truth about Renata. In telling her, all Ren would do is deprive both girls of each other's good friend.

And since they had no future together like that, it behooved Ren to leave them alone.

The thought brought a snarl to her lips. Maybe she couldn't have Mari, but that didn't mean she had to let a scumbag like Ravi break her heart.

Resolved, Renata broke into a jog, then a run, heading for the library pell-mell.

[Dawn OOC]

It only took a few moments before Ms. Pritchard was on the line. “Yes, Ms. Dorn?” she said, her voice crisp and sharp.

“I’ve… realized something,” Sylvia said softly. “Things have gotten way out of control… and we need to come to some kind of understanding. We need to talk.”

There was a long silence; Sylvia waited tensely. Finally, Pritchard replied, “Very well.” There was a harder note in her voice than there had been before. “When?”

“Now?” Sylvia asked.

“Very well,” Pritchard rejoined. “Meet me at the Observatory in twenty minutes.”

The Observatory was about twenty minutes walk from the main portion of campus; it was also very isolated. If things went badly, there’d be no backup for Sylvia and the children.

[Sylvia Dorn]

The "group" was essentially down to Sylvia and Frida, the teacher realized as the connection died on the phone. And given the demanded location, there wasn't time to argue. "Alright, we're off to the Observatory, and have twenty minutes to get there. Let's go."

All along the walk, Sylvia considered the possibilities. There was, as she'd already realized, no back-up anywhere near the remote location in the event that everything fell apart. No back-up at all, unless....

She looked over to Frida without stopping, and asked, "Miss Ricci, your particular talent. Do you suppose that there's any chance you can see if there are any, well, people on the other side when we reach the Observatory? And more to the point, do you think there is any chance that they might be inclined to intercede on your behalf if things go poorly?"

[Frida Ricci]

Frida was normally such a blank slate that it was still a bit unsettling to Sylvia to be able to see the young artist's discomfort when the topic of her "talents" were addressed. But after a brief pause she shrugged slightly, and managed to clear most of the nervousness from her expression.

"I can't say I know, Ms. Dorn. I've haven't tried to see them either time.. I just did. I don't know if it will happen all the time, or if I can try to.. turn it off. Or on, in this particular situation. And I don't know if they would want to help me.. or whether they would even be able to."

This was a brief hesitation before her next words, though her pace picked up a bit, and they continued across the campus as swiftly as possible without attracting any attention.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask. Let us pray we reach the observatory with plenty of time to do so."

[Sylvia Dorn]

"All considered," Sylvia replied, "we can't count on having much time. We'll just have to wing it." She offered a rare if somewhat wan smile. "This is all very new to all of us."

A short silence followed as the pair hurried along, before Sylvia spoke up once more. "If worst comes to worst, I'm going to... well, try to change again, and that should keep Pritchard busy. If that happens, run - preferably to the library, but anywhere you feel is safe will do."

With that, the observatory finally hove into view on the path ahead.

[Dawn OOC]

In the daylight, the building was nothing much to see, at first glance. The tall structure rose straight and tall, capped with a green-tarnished metal dome. Right now, the telescope's massive cover was closed, hiding it from view.

The door was open when Sylvia pushed on it. "Hello?" the were-panther called, hesitant to just start shouting for Pritchard.

"I am here, Ms. Dorn." The calm, assured voice that replied was unmistakably Pritchard’s. The older woman stepped into the light from the door, just far enough to be seen. “Come within, and shut the door. We need privacy.”

[Sylvia Dorn]

It was a trap, and Sylvia knew it. Sensed it, smelled it. She was meeting with a woman who could create life-like golems, who could steel memories, who was part of a conspiracy that harassed and hounded both her students and herself.

This wasn't a day for stepping into traps.

"All considered," the teacher said in a level voice, "I think we've privacy enough out here in the middle of nowhere, at least until we have some measure of trust. So how about we start right here, and then we can go from there? I'd say that the golems would be a good starting point, but no; I'd rather like to know just exactly how our memories were fuzzed over."

[Frida Ricci]

Frida slipped in silently, staying a step or two behind Sylvia. Her dark eyes fixed for a long moment on Pritchard before flickering around the room, searching for that which Ms. Dorn had requested of her. It was a lose-lose situation, she was both afraid of coming face to face with any more of the undead, and of what might happen if she and Dorn truly were here on their own. But she did her best to push those feelings aside, if for no other reason than some instinctive part of her flinched against the idea of showing her fear in front of a woman that she wasn't inclined to trust.

Click to reveal..

Speak with the Dead: 6d10 → [9,3,8,10,8,5] = 4 suxx

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2786114

[Dawn OOC]

Only one ghost stood to the side, hollow eyes on Frida. Sylvia didn’t see it as she stared at the older woman, her stare hard. “I’m not here to answer your questions, Sylvia,” Pritchard said icily. “I’m here to discuss how to damage the breach that you have caused. Or rather, that you have abetted. I’m aware that they have started it; fortunately, with some work, I believe that I can keep them out. You have taken the students off through the Door as if it were some field trip. As if you knew what you were doing. What on earth were you thinking?! What possessed you to put the students in such flagrant danger?!”

Behind her, another ghost walked in through the wall, staring at Frida. The two seemed fascinated by her.

[Frida Ricci]

Frida's eyes flickered from one ghost to another as Sylvia and Pritchard began their argument. They were - once she attempted to push her initial fear of them aside, and merely observe - fascinating in appearance, and she was pleased (if not necessarily surprised) by how well she had captured their otherworldliness in her mural. Much of what Sylvia had said was a blur to Frida, but as she gazed at the spirits, Pritchard's frosty tones penetrated her consciousness, and she diverted her attention briefly to the administrator.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but you seem to be making some poorly thought out statements, and I thought I should bring them to your attention. Conversation and debate goes much smoother if assumptions are set aside in favor of fact, don't you think?"

There was a brief moment where the two adults turned to stare at Frida, the tension building between the two of them having been temporarily interrupted by the young woman's bland yet politely phrased statement that Pritchard was acting like an idiot.

"First of all, you're asking Ms. Dorn questions that she no longer has the answer to - something we believe to be the result of you or other administrator's actions, though we aren't completely certain on that fact, and it was indeed one of the things we came to speak with you about. If you were aware of our memory loss, it seems ill-advised to waste time asking someone questions about why they did something, when they no longer remember the answer. On that note, you speak of Ms. Dorn placing the students in danger. Do you have evidence that she did so? For I happen to know a bit about many of the students that you're claiming she 'led through the door', and I suspect that when odd things started occurring, Ms. Dorn would have been hard-pressed to stop many of us from exploring, were we determined to go. We may be children in your minds, but we are teenagers, nearly adults in every physical manner, and therefore would have been quite capable of overpowering a single instructor. Knowing Ms. Dorn's psychological inclinations as I do from observing her during class and as a dorm mistress, I would imagine it was just as likely that she felt obligated to go with us, rather than allow us to go alone, in order to attempt to protect us."

For a moment she seemed like she was about to continue, but then she paused, and her gaze settled intently on Pritchard, as if she had just decided that it was the other woman's turn to speak.

[Sylvia Dorn]

As Frida came to the end of her commentary, Sylvia stared for a moment longer... then let out a genuine laugh.

"You see, Constance," she managed with a new confidence as the chuckles died down, "exactly how much control either you or I really have here. For whatever reason, we're dealing with a student body that has, in part, developed abilities of the sort often called 'supernatural' and that has discovered a Door to other worlds. Do you really think that you or I - despite our own interesting knacks, newly-discovered or otherwise - can keep them from trying to find out everything they can? You might as well try to bottle the wind."

The smile on her lips, the last remnant of her laugh, took a suddenly hard edge.

"But don't think for one minute that I'm going to abandon my charges to whatever it is that is out there. If I can't stop them from going through that Door, then I will damned well be going through with them. If nothing else, my new talents give me a bit of an edge in protecting them from what we come across... or from what has come here of its own accord.

"So unless you really want them to dash out there blindly, unless you really want to have no hope at all in instilling enough sense of danger and gravity to keep these young men and women from stepping into worlds that might very literally eat them alive, I think you had best tell us what you know." The smile vanished entirely, but the hard edge remained. "Because if I ever find out that you withheld information that could have prevented one of my wards from being injured or worse, you won't like the result."

Pritchard's eyes flickered down toward Sylvia's hands, only for a moment; had the teacher looked herself, she would have seen the sharp, black claws that had come unbidden to her fingertips.

[Dawn OOC]

“I have heard that speech before,” Pritchard said, looking unfazed by Sylvia’s sardonic speech or Frida’s earnest one. “I heard it when Wilbur Dalton made it many years ago, right before twelve students died. You may think that it’s better to let them go running off, but I have seen this before.

“I can close the Door,” Pritchard said. “Apparently, its temporary, but I can keep doing it until we find a permanent solution.” She shook her head and added, “No, removing the Door doesn’t work, nor does locking it. It wants to be open. It’s made to be used. We just have to find a way to make it not be that.”

“You’re talking like it’s alive,” Sylvia said, narrowing her eyes at the woman.

“You sometimes find it open,” Pritchard said. “No matter the locks, no matter the bars you put on it, you’ll find it standing half-open. It’s not alive, but it has a… sense of thereness. A… an ability to affect itself and its surroundings. You can’t remove the Door; that removes any control you have over it.”

Her eyes hardened. "Now, are you going to talk with someone who clearly knows more than you, or are you make useless statements and wave your claws around?"

[Sylvia Dorn]

Sylvia's brow furrowed. "Wave my..."

Then she looked at her hands, and in a much quieter voice finished. "...claws."

She looked at the ebony talons a bit longer, before finally sighing and uttering to nobody in particular, "Well, that's new."

There was a brief awkward fidgeting, as the teacher clearly looked for someplace to put her newfound weapons. After a moment, she settled on crossed arms and looked back up to Pritchard.

"So. Let's talk. You have obvious and valid concerns. So do I. Whatever else is happening, mucking around with the memories of God-only-knows how many students and faculty isn't a solution. For starters, it doesn't quite hold forever. Even if it did, it leaves us woefully unprepared for when something confronts us - including our own unique changes. And then there's the ethical matter of pillaging someone's mind.

"So let's go for an educated stance. The people who have been affected by this get informed - both of what's happening to them and of why the Door is more dangerous than a bomb. Does that sound a bit more reasonable than either otherworldly field trips or magical mind-rape?"

[Dawn OOC]

"The last time the children were educated, they went through the Door anyway. Dalton didn't stop them but he couldn't have anyway," Pritchard said. "Ask them. Ask them to stop and see what happens.

"Not that it matters," the older woman added bitterly. "These children are all changing. As are you. It's not like last time, when all we had to worry about what the children brought home. Now, we have to worry about what they are."

[Frida Ricci]

Now that the administrator was talking instead of threatening or accusing, Frida seemed to relax a little bit. Her eyes flickered around the room again, but she forced herself to ignore the spirits gathering around her for now in favor of addressing Pritchard. In direct contrast - perhaps just because Frida was contrary - she seemed to be considering the other woman's suggestion.

"Have you developed any theories that would help you lock the Door permanently? I don't know if it's possible - it certainly seems as if you've been trying a long time, and haven't had much success. And I'm not certain that's the answer, it may be that we can't.. but it's certainly worth pursuing."

[Sylvia Dorn]

"Somehow," Sylvia replied, "I get the feeling that the Door is a bit beyond our ability to seal. It opens between worlds; that in and of itself indicates a level of either technology or cosmology or both that is nothing short of staggering."

She looked back to Pritchard and added, "Not to mention that this witch has been trying and failing to do exactly that for at least the past three decades. A witch who can wipe the memories of an entire student body and summon up helpers from sticks and twine."

Sighing, the werecat leaned against the door frame. "And the Caramine are apparently intent on collecting what they consider to be their due, from what we've gathered, and whatever that means for those collected." She swallowed, and noted, "I'm apparently 'Number Two'." Once more she looked over to the witch. With a wary look, she asked, "How much do you know about the Caramine situation? What are we in for when they come back?"

[Dawn OOC]

Pritchard looked at Frida without a hint of softness or kindness in her gaze. If she’d been planning on answering the young woman, Sylvia cut off that response. Pritchard let the other teacher finish before she spoke again. “The door can be sealed temporarily, at best. Now that I know this, I can keep it continuously sealed.

“Since you asked, I’ll tell you what I know of the last time. The Caramine and Dalton learned of one another,” Pritchard said softly. “The Caramine came and demanded their tribute. When Dalton refused, they said they would come back. Dalton believed them. He prepared the children – they were all so arrogant. So sure. And when the Caramine came, they died. Not all of them, but many members of the Young Adventurer’s Club. And many of the other students, too. Ones who had had no part in any of this.”

Hard blue eyes bored into Sylvia’s. “I want to prevent another massacre, especially one that is fueled by children who think they have it all figured out.”

[Sylvia Dorn]

"They won't be saved by ignorance," Sylvia replied flatly. "They'll just be killed easier."

She glanced down at her hands, and was relieved to no longer see claws there. Sighing, the teacher looked over to Frida, then back at Pritchard. "I think we're done here. The choices at this point are to work with us while we try to learn how to best defend ourselves against this, or to keep working against us. It's your call."

With that, Sylvia turned to leave.

[Dawn OOC]

"If you insist on making an enemy of us, then continue leaving," Pritchard said levelly. "You know nothing of what happened before; has it not occurred to you that I'm doing what must be done to save the children?"

Suddenly, she cut herself off, shaking her head. "It is no matter. The door has been sealed to intruders, and we will find that Caramine and destroy her. As well as any other outsiders."

Sylvia stared at her. "Destroy?" she asked, her voice hard.

"You think me a monster? This is war, Sylvia, regardless of your feelings on the matter." The teacher stood ramrod straight. "This is war, and we will win."

[Frida Ricci]

"We know nothing because you WON'T TELL US!!!! You keep telling us that we know NOTHING of what happened before, but you won't tell us what DID HAPPEN!! That's why we CAME HERE, you idiotic.. idiotic.. BITCH!! Is that so hard to understand?! We came to you for answers, and instead all we're getting is your high-handed, omniscient superiority!!"

It was a shock to hear Frida yell, her British accent sharper as she spat the words out at Pritchard like so much dirt at the woman's feet. In fact, it was something no one had ever heard, even her own parents. She was known for being so withdrawn, so introverted most of the time, that when Sylvia thought about it, she realized she'd be hard pressed to get any of the staff to even believe this had happened. For a moment Frida just stood there, looking a bit shocked, even at herself. She drew in a sharp breath, shaking slightly with the adrenaline of finally letting herself be overwhelmed by anger. It wasn't all too disimilar from the feelings of passion Ravi had stirred in her, and she briefly wondered if she would have even been capable of this if she hadn't been exposed to the experience.

"You say you're going to destroy the Caramine, and any outsiders?! She doesn't remember anything! Not even her own name! And how do you even know any others would be like the Caramines?! You're painting them with the same brush, as if because they're different then that means they're evil! You don't know who they are, or what they want! Some of them may even want to help us!! But no - no, you're just going to destroy them all, because you know what happened last time, but we're not important enough to tell. Well.. if you won't tell us, maybe I'll go ask the dead! They've been here.. they've seen what's happened. Surely one of them can tell me what you won't. I refuse to remain ignorant because you're too short-sighted and stupid to bother informing us of the whole situation! Hell, we might get more than just an answer from them - we might get some semblance of the truth!! After all, why should they lie? They're already dead, aren't they?! And why should I trust a word you say anyway - you've already proven you have no morals or standards of responsibility. I think you care more about your reputation than you do 'saving the children'.. otherwise you'd be smart about it and do whatever it took, instead of just whatever 'keeps it quiet'."

[Dawn OOC]

Pritchard started Frida's rant angry but as it progressed she calmed. "I assure you," she said with fury tinging her voice, "that my concern is for you children. You impinge my reputation and moral code because you don't agree with me or my methods. Fine. You're welcome to be wrong.

"The fact that the Caramine doesn't remember anything is a blessing, else she'd be killing more people. Oh, yes," Pritchard added. "She's already killed two of our security guards. Her lack of memory is what makes her safe.

"Of more pressing concern is your statement about the dead," Pritchard added. "Your file hasn't had any of the psychosis consistant with someone suffering from that affliction for a lifetime, which leads me to wonder if this is recent. Did you gain this by walking through the Door?"

[Frida Ricci]

Indignation flared briefly in Frida's eyes, and she shook her head in disbelief.

"You expect me to answer any of your questions, when you haven't answered any of ours? That is quite nervy of you. If you wish me to answer any of your questions, I want to hear an explanation of what happened here before first. If you will not give it, then as Ms. Dorn stated, we are done here."

She stepped closer to Sylvia and arched a brow at Pritchard, waiting for her response.

[Dawn OOC]

"You don't have to answer now," Pritchard said, and there was something unsettling in her smile. There was both something implied that Frida would tell her in time and the feeling that she didn't need Frida to tell her.

"So you may go," Pritchard added dismissively.

[Frida Ricci]

"Oh. Well. Now that I have you're permission."

And with that, she turned and stormed out in a huff, not even waiting for the flabbergasted Sylvia. Anger and sarcasm all within five minutes.. Frida was acting practically human for once!

_________________________________________

Frida made her way down from the astronomy tower, feeling angry and frustrated. She didn't know whether Sylvia had stayed to speak with the administrator any more, and she didn't care. She only knew that she wanted some real answers, and she had an idea where she might get them.

It took her a little while before she finally spotted another one.. she had roamed through the halls of a couple buildings before finally stepping out onto the Commons. She had been avoiding the area, given the police presence, but when she emerged onto the sunlit green, she spotted one right away. She was clearly defined, Frida could see every detail.. but in a muted, almost-colorless way, like a really faded photograph. It was a young woman, wearing clothes that matched the time period.. not the seventies as people usually thought of them, with big flare-leg pants or disco-ready sequins. Instead it was something a normal person would have worn.. like that picture Frida had seen of her mother once when she was a teenager, wearing a brown skirt that hung just low enough to cover the knee, and a light turtleneck shirt with a sweater worn over it and a cute belt cinching her waist.

Only this woman's cute turtleneck was slashed open across the chest, and blood had pooled around the wounds as if she'd lain on her back for awhile after dying. There was a smear of blood on her hand where she'd probably touched the palm to her chest and then pulled it away, as if needing to convince herself that the blood was really hers. She was watching the activity of the police curiously, and Frida had to gesture at her once or twice to get her attention - carefully, so as not to attract the attention of law enforcement officials present. Her lips mouthed quietly to the young woman - "Over here..." - and she beckoned her away from the center of the commons. Once the young woman reached her they stared silently for a few moments before Frida finally cleared her throat slightly, and then glanced around to check for people before murmuring to her.

"My.. my name is Frida. What's yours?"

"Sherry."

The voice was an eerie, empty noise, and it made Frida feel cold all over, and a little sick. She pushed it back, suppressing the urge to flee, and struggled for a slight smile.

"Sherry, I was.. hoping I could talk to you. Do you mind?"

The woman stared at her intently, and for a moment Frida didn't think she was going to respond. But then, ignoring the young artist's question, she began to speak.

"You.. you are with the numbered ones. You should stay out of his way."

"The numbered ones.. you mean.. my friends? Ravi, and Sean, and the others?"

It startled Frida a little to realize she had friends - it wasn't something she'd ever really had before. Acquaintances, and her parent's friends, and classmates. But never friends. Her expression grew slightly more determined, even as the mauled spirit continued to speak.

"He marked them, like my friends. He'll come for them, like my friends. You'll die, like I did."

The ghost seemed to be certain on that point.

"Who's he? One of the Caramines?"

Sherry shivered at the word 'Caramines'. "Yes," she hissed, her voice sounding as if it were being driven from the gates of hell. Frida felt a twinge of guilt at hearing her fear, forcing her to relive painful memories.. but yet, she persisted, driven by an almost desperate desire to repeat the mistakes of the past.

"Why? I mean.. can you tell me what happened? Why did they even come? That.. woman. Pritchard. She stole my memories - everyone's memories."

"They come because of the numbers, because of the war," Sherry told her.

Frida glanced around briefly to make sure she wasn't being watched.. not that most people would notice that she were talking to thin air, she mused briefly. But seeing no one, she glanced back at Sherry and kept talking, hoping the novelty of actually

communicating with somone in who only knew how long would keep the spirit speaking.

"Have they always come? Or did something start the war? Do you know?"

Sherry stared. "Dean. Dean. Dean! Dean!! DEAN!!!" She was howling the word by the end, the eldrich winds whipping around her like storm. And then she was gone, as if the effort had been too much - as if hatred had drained her of the power to manifest.

Frida's eyes widened at the girl, letting out a little gasp as she disappeared. She even let out a little cry of protest, though it caused one of the cops on the scene to glance over at her sharply.

"Hey - you okay?"

"Yes.. yes, fine. I just.. twisted my ankle a bit. Nothing serious."

She hurried off, feigning a bit of a limp for good measure, until she made it far away from the Commons and into the library. Belatedly, she realized she was hoping to find the group that had gone off to research, but after several minutes of searching with no result, she collapsed into a chair towards the back, away from the penetrating gaze of librarians and casual student visitors - rare today anyway, with everyone too wound up from the previous day's events to focus much on homework.

She wasn't exactly sure how long she sat there, shivering slightly, trying to suppress the cold grip of fear that had clenched her stomach again. Part of her was scared stiff of what she'd just done.. and part of her felt guilt, as if perhaps her persistent questioning had somehow destroyed what little bit of existence Sherry had left. It felt a little like she'd killed something, somehow - or at least that she'd destroyed something priceless and irreplaceable. It was only the jarring sound of her ringtone that startled her out of her reverie, and she picked up the phone shakily, her accent sounding a bit thicker than normal as a result of her duress.

"H-hello? Frida here."

[Sylvia Dorn]

Unlike her student, Sylvia did not immediately turn and storm off. She didn't entirely hear the conversation that immediately preceded Frida's departure, either. And while she may have appeared flabbergasted, the truth was a good deal darker.

The witch who called herself Pritchard had threatened to kill Swan. While the pale girl from another world wasn't one of Sylvia's students, she had in very short order fallen into the subconscious category of "ward"... or perhaps more accurately, "cub". And though she didn't know it, that meant something very particular and special to this particular were-cat's soul.

No, Sylvia wasn't flabbergasted. She was struggling.

Click to reveal..

Rolling to resist Berserk:

5d10=23

5d10 → [8,2,3,9,1] = (23)

Two successes. She holds it together. Doesn't mean she's happy.

The woman's eyes closed tight, a long and deep breath held for several seconds before slipping out slowly in something that could have been mistaken for a sigh. Could have been, that is, if the eyes that now opened didn't look directly into Pritchard's with an unmistakable predatory glare.

When Sylvia spoke again, it was with a voice that held an underlying growl.

"Let me be clear. The girl, Swan, is under my protection. If you harm her, if you harm any of those I protect, I will harm you."

The glaring eyes began to change, gold creeping in around the edges, filling the white and slowly merging with the brown of the iris, while the pupil extended and became a vertical slit. The face surrounding those entrancing eyes changed as well, the nose becoming a muzzle and sleek black fur taking its rightful place once more.

Only when fully changed did the angry panther break its stare, turning to stalk off into the woods lest its primal nature get the best of it.

~~~

Some twenty minutes later, Sylvia walked out of those woods and back onto the campus proper. If she walked with a touch more grace, a smoother gait than before, nobody mentioned it. And if she seemed oddly satisfied at some level, that went unnoticed as well; what remained of a rabbit carcass was already being set upon by scavengers in the woods.

With purpose in her stride, she set out for the library.

[Sylvia Dorn]

The library, as it turned out, was apparently absent of her "cubs". As she looked around, there was a subconscious snuffling that accompanied her glances; belatedly, Sylvia realized that she was trying to catch the scent of her students, and stopped.

Where primal senses did not succeed, modern technology would fill the gap. Cell phone retrieved from pocket, she tapped out a quick message to one of the more responsible of the bunch.

(Continued in "Books Are For Nerds")