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Stoned (Superman)
The emails flew back and forth. Some of them much more civil than others. At first the user claimed there was no way to ship to an address that ended simply with The City let alone overnight it. Willow remained persistent, asking him to go ahead and do so. The witch was worried that user Magikks1291 would simply refuse until two hours before the bidding had ended, when the emails changed suddenly and unexpectedly in tone.
The mirror arrived early the next morning. Like all eBay users, the shipping cost was grossly over charged. Willow thanked the gods that she wasn't the one paying the bill this time. She decided not to imagine what Mr. Wayne's reaction would look like when he saw the invoice.
She set the super statue very carefully on a large blanket and dragged it very slowly into the back training room. Unsure how to get the punching bag down which dangled in the center of the room, an item no one made use of, in the end she decided she could make plenty of space toward the exit door.
It took her 40 minutes before she was certain that Superman was solid and upright. She then took a piece of chalk and began to write a number of runes circling his feet. She made a special trip for the candles. Usually she stuck to black or white, mostly for aesthetic reasons, but feeling particularly festive about the prospect of doing the world some good once more, she dotted the circle of chalk markings with blue, red and yellow candles. It felt fitting.
The mirror was the last component to set up and still covered by a cloth. When she stood it up, Willow adjusted the full length mirror on its hinges in order to angle it perfectly. It faced the super hero waiting to be unveiled.
"Okay, here goes nothing..."
She lifted the cloth. It flew from the silver mirror with a spectacular flutter, and drifted serenely toward the floor in a rumpled heap. The statue's reflection was visible in the mirror but there was no change. Willow frowned. She swallowed. She paced. The witch knew how to correct the situation, and her heart dropped a few notches until it hit her stomach.
She stood behind the mirror, her hands gripping the frame on either side. She began to recite the words she'd spelled out in a circle around the hero's feet. The reflective surface lit up like a muted, yellow sun. Willow felt its power in her veins, black and visible under her skin. As it shone brighter, Willow became darker. A familiar sensation poured from her scalp and her hair turned to black. The light extended outward and for a moment, Willow thought she might go blind. Squeezing her eyes tight didn't block out the pain. The room looked like it had been erased in yellow light. The witch screamed.
The mirror's light faded out. The spell had been cast. Superman was restored.
The mirror arrived early the next morning. Like all eBay users, the shipping cost was grossly over charged. Willow thanked the gods that she wasn't the one paying the bill this time. She decided not to imagine what Mr. Wayne's reaction would look like when he saw the invoice.
She set the super statue very carefully on a large blanket and dragged it very slowly into the back training room. Unsure how to get the punching bag down which dangled in the center of the room, an item no one made use of, in the end she decided she could make plenty of space toward the exit door.
It took her 40 minutes before she was certain that Superman was solid and upright. She then took a piece of chalk and began to write a number of runes circling his feet. She made a special trip for the candles. Usually she stuck to black or white, mostly for aesthetic reasons, but feeling particularly festive about the prospect of doing the world some good once more, she dotted the circle of chalk markings with blue, red and yellow candles. It felt fitting.
The mirror was the last component to set up and still covered by a cloth. When she stood it up, Willow adjusted the full length mirror on its hinges in order to angle it perfectly. It faced the super hero waiting to be unveiled.
"Okay, here goes nothing..."
She lifted the cloth. It flew from the silver mirror with a spectacular flutter, and drifted serenely toward the floor in a rumpled heap. The statue's reflection was visible in the mirror but there was no change. Willow frowned. She swallowed. She paced. The witch knew how to correct the situation, and her heart dropped a few notches until it hit her stomach.
She stood behind the mirror, her hands gripping the frame on either side. She began to recite the words she'd spelled out in a circle around the hero's feet. The reflective surface lit up like a muted, yellow sun. Willow felt its power in her veins, black and visible under her skin. As it shone brighter, Willow became darker. A familiar sensation poured from her scalp and her hair turned to black. The light extended outward and for a moment, Willow thought she might go blind. Squeezing her eyes tight didn't block out the pain. The room looked like it had been erased in yellow light. The witch screamed.
The mirror's light faded out. The spell had been cast. Superman was restored.