Countess Margaret Isobel Thoreaux (cisobel) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-05-21 23:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | bizarro, countess isobel |
Who: Countess Isobel and OTA
What: Arrival in LA, tossing around some locals
When: Close to 11PM
Where: A Park in LA
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete
This was not the Kawatche Caves. As a matter of fact, this wasn't even Smallville anymore. A second ago, she had been standing in front of a very tied up Clark Kent, and was teleporting herself as well as Madelyn and Brianna to get one of the Stones of Power. She had been so close to it, she could practically taste it. Still dressed in the slightly scandalous black outfit from the party at the barn, it took Isobel all of three seconds to sense a number of things. One, Brianna and Madelyn were not here. Two, neither were the Stones. In fact, they were no where near here. Three, this place, where ever it was, was brimming with power.
Isobel looked down at the book in her hands, her spell book. She was feeling quite furious at the moment. What kind of power could do this to her without even realizing it? She wasn't back in France, that was obvious...no...this was still in the Americas...she was just somewhere with more trees at the moment, but she knew people were near by.
Her book securely in her hand, she started across the grass, a cool wind sweeping over her features and blowing her hair back behind her. It wasn't long until she found herself on a path, and found an unlucky lone male on said path. He looked like he was dressed up to party. A seductive smile stretched across her face, as Isobel made her way toward him. They both stopped when they were just a foot apart from each other, the man's eyes clearly raking over Isobel's body. "I don't suppose you could help a Lady out?" she asked sweetly, raising one hand to run up the mans arm, and then stop there. "I'm afraid I'm a little lost."
The man stepped closer, running his hands down Isobel's sides. She didn't mind that. It was when his hands dropped lower, and around, and then got closer. Alcohol was on his breath. "I'm sure you are sweetie." replied the man, obviously drunk. "Why don't you come with me? You help me, and I'll help you."
A wicked smirk crossed Isobel's face, and she raised her hand, bringing it to rest on her chest. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth to his ear, leaning in. "You'd like that wouldn't you? You desire this body." her eyes flashed purple, and a small ball of magic appeared between her raised pinkie and pointer finger of her right hand. "Too bad it doesn't desire you." she pulled back, the man looking confused. Her hand raised, and a Latin phrase moved past her lips. "Sursum." The man shot into the air, and turned upside down, held there by Isobel's spell, still working from her raised arm.
"I tried to be nice. But now we're just going to do things the fun way." she said tauntingly. "Now, be a dear, and tell me where we are." she may of actually let him go if he had of just answered the question. Why did every male think that simple flirtation was an open invitation to go all night long? The only answer she got from him though was the sound of him screaming for help. Sighing, Isobel looked annoyed, and the she flicked her wrist again, uttering another word. Her hair blew back from her face as if there was another breeze, and the man flew through the air, and landed into the bushes. He was alive, yes. Probably scared, possibly unconscious. That wasn't her concern. She'd just have to figure out where she was on her own. Turning, the purple of her power died, and she started down the bath again, treating it as if it was her very own fashion show runway.