Reality Crisis

There had always been something about the rain that Mag loved, and though she couldn't place exactly what it was, she knew it was there. Every drop seemed to tell her a story, the sound of the same droplet crashing to the ground was like music to her ears, and she couldn't help but be soothed by it. Even her soul was satisfied, something that had been troubled for the last few years, and it almost surprised her that a little bit of rain in a strange world could put her at such ease. It had, however, and she was grateful. It had been a long few days, getting used to everything being so different, adjusting to a city that seemed almost broken as she was, but she didn't mind. At least here she was free, and it didn't come with a price. Well, despite the fact that this city seemed to be falling apart.

The rain was light, splashing the city with an array of different sized droplets, coating everything in it's moisture. The sky was dark, but Mag could sense that the sun was trying to peek through, to offer it's own sort of assurance against the black and grey clouds, though it hadn't quite yet burst forth. It seemed only to linger, and not be on the verge of committing to the idea of showing its face. That was okay with her, however, as she continued to enjoy the echo of the rain as it pattered against the broken buildings, the signs, the trees and the grass, and even the pavement below. There was just something about the rain.

Mag had been wandering around in what had seemed to be a park at some point, there was manicured grass sprouting up in patches, trying to survive whatever had happened here before she and the others had come, which was refreshing in a way. The fact that something here was trying to grow and thrive, it gave her confidence, even if it was just grass. When the rain had started, the light blanket of drizzle, Mag had taken shelter beneath a small covered pavilion that was home mostly to a set of picnic tables, one broken in the middle with one of the ends cast towards the sky, and the other end pointed at the concrete that the whole table had once sat snugly upon. The other table, however, was intact, and that was where Mag was perched, silently upon the table itself, legs hanging off of the side of the table, feet resting on one of the rusted bench seats. She wore a simple green dress something flowy and easy to manuver in. Where she was from, she had worn mostly dresses or skirts of some type, pants and jeans were really a fashion item that was basically non-existant in her time. On her feet were the same pair of silver flats she'd been wearing since her arrival here. Her long brown hair was recently washed, still drying in some parts, and had a natural wave to it as it cascaded down her back and around her shoulders. Her eyes swirled, beneath the light black eyeliner and natural shadow she wore. As far as makeup went, Mag tried to keep it simple, especially since she wasn't actually performing at that particular moment. There was no need for extravagant makeup.

She sighed softly, waiting for the rain to let up, listening to every small sound, glad she had decided to leave her apartment and venture out. As anti-social as she was, she tried to keep a distance from everyone in her world for her own reasons, she still liked to be outside once in a while.

It was just her way.

Something weird was going on, and Harry wanted nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, Harry was a wizard, and weird going-ons were his business. He had been enjoying Karrin moving in with him, but then there were people acting out of sorts, Belia was nowhere to be seen, and half the population had digressed to teenage rebellion.

"It's like that episode of Buffy," Harry explained to Mouse. He broke off a piece of the energy bar he was munching on and fed it to the Foo dog. "The one where all the adults started eating those candy bars, and thought they were teenagers again. Pure entertainment. And that's why we're eating Murph's boring energy bars instead of something delicious." He broke a second bar in half and shared it with Mouse. "Because no teenagers want to eat healthy. Except for the insane ones."

Ten minutes later, Harry was looking around in shock, edged in fear. He must have gone for a walk, and not been paying attention to where he was going. Nothing looked familiar. He glanced at the massive dog that seemed to be following him and gulped. "Justin is gonna be so pissed at me," he told the animal. "I'm gonna be late for my lessons."

The room seemed suddenly too crowded, the room thick with the aroma of flowers of all shapes and colors that littered the room like the scattered garments of a forgotten night, and the walls shook with pealing laughter of the clowns that were capering capriciously outside in the hallway, and though the door to her room was closed tight, her mind could still see the antics of the performers in the hallway, images vivid, right down to the makeup they wore to hide the sutures in their faces from the facial change surgery they underwent. It caused Mag to smile a little to herself, which was rare for here these days, especially after finding out that she'd been lied to about the death of her god daughter, Shiloh. Rotti and Nathan had betrayed her, and she had a feeling that they were up to no good when it came to the well being of Shiloh. She would make them pay if they harmed the girl.

She could hear music, then shouting through the closed door, but she ignored it, craving only a moment of solace for herself. Slowly, her swirling eyes left the stunning face of the woman that stared back at her, knowing it was only a reflection, glancing over at the right of her vanity mirror where a large poster of herself hung, which caused her lips to part to emit a soft sigh. She was tired of playing these games, she was tired of the fame, and tired of having everyone love her as well as having nobody love her. She was a slave, a prisoner, trapped in a world that loved her for what she looked like, and her voice, not for the blind old maid she was on the inside.

With the swirl of her eyes, Mag glanced once more at her reflection, hating herself but loving the way the lights made her eyes shimmer. She was going to miss them terribly. Slowly, she picked up two razor sharp talons, and slid one onto each of her gloved first fingers, admiring the sharpness of the curved blades, unknowing of what was to become of her after her eyes were gone. She was afraid, but they weren't going to imprison her any longer, nor would she continue to set this example for Shiloh. She pursed her lips for a moment, humming her aria, the Caravaggio, the one she was to perform which would be her undoing.

"One minute, Mag!" Someone shouted, rasping at her door, causing her train of thought to de-rail, and the corners of her lips to descend, knowing her time had come. Without hesitation, Mag rose from her seat, adjusted her dress, minding not to cut the fabric with her talons, and brushed a strand of hair from her face, before turning to the door. She held her head high, and walked with her shoulders back, like a convicted yet proud woman on the way to meet her death.

She would rather be blind again than bend to their will any longer.

With each step, the distance between her and the door lessened, and the yelling and laughter grew louder. She breathed out, closed her eyes, and let her hand curl around the door to her lavish room, before she pulled it open. She stepped over the threshold, without knowing any different, and closed it behind herself, ears empty of the usual sounds, causing her strange, electric eyes to open curiously. She was in a field of grass, the blades wisping back and forth in the breeze, which also caused her dress to billow casually. That was when she heard the growling.

All she could do now was run.