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Magdalena Chef

Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Peter pushed the heavy oak door open and stuck his head through the crack. "No one here! Come on in," he stepped inside holding the door open for her.

"What is this?" Maggy asked, squinting in the dim light. Small tables, mismatched stools and benches dotted the floor.

"The Sea Witch Tavern!" he announced opening his arms wide.

"Um...should we even be in here? I mean are we even old enough?" she asked tentatively.

"Sure, why not? Take a seat."

Maggy hopped up on a stool, hooking her boot heels on the wooden crossbar. "Now what?" she turned to look at Peter.

"Here," he held a bottle out to her. "Have a drink."

Parched and hot from all the digging they had done, Maggy opened the bottle and chugged.

"Nooooo!" Peter dove for her. "Not like that!"

Sputtering and coughing, she placed the drink on the counter, "That tastes disgusting!"

"You're not supposed to drink it like that! Don't you know anything!"

Maggy glared at him, just because he was a few years older he thought he knew everything. She picked up the bottle again, drinking slower this time and making a face. It really did taste disgusting.

She looked down, studying her boots. Maybe Circe will let me dig in her cellar... Maggy was lost in thought, twirling her foot slowly...for some reason that was pretty funny and she laughed out loud. Twirly, swirly, whirly – just like when the sand collapsed into itself and she watched it and the world burn from the hill. The sands of Magincia that held the key to helping Peter, underneath something lay hidden, buried and safe... she would find it.

She heard Peter talking and furrowed her brow. It sounded muffled, distant and when she looked up from her boots to find him the world moved funny. There was something wrong with her eyes too – something like a vision delay? She opened her mouth to tell him that something must be horribly wrong, that she was probably dying, but only managed to laugh hysterically, hiccup and fall right off the stool.

"Greeeaaat," she heard him say as strong hands hauled her to her feet, "now how am I getting you home?"

"Feet!" she volunteered and continued laughing as he navigated them both to the moongate.
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Magdalena Chef

Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Peter half-carried, half-dragged her up the stairs and set her on the bed. "Your aunt is gonna kill me, I got you drunk," he said pacing back and forth. She watched him walk over to the armoire and lean against it, a big grin on her face.

"Look! Feet! Aren't they fantastic?" she asked sticking them straight into the air and yanking her boots off.

Peter mumbled something in reply, crossed his arms muttered to himself. Maggy reached up grabbing her toes and rolled from side to side, giggling. He watched her roll right off the bed, hit the floor with a dull thud and grimaced. If her aunt came home right now, no question about it, he wouldn't be around for his next birthday.

"Oopsies!" she said and then something caught her eye. "Hey! I forgot about this!"

Peter watched as half of her disappeared under the bed, and watched as she wiggled out again dragging something wrapped in oil cloth. Carefully she tugged on the ties and lifted out an impressive mahogany stave laying it across her legs. A dull green rock held in place by talons was at its end. She stood.

"I will now give you your magic back!" she bellowed with all the showmanship of a cheap carnival magician.


Peter threw his arms up in front of him bracing for whatever came next. After several long seconds he realized Maggy was just standing there looking perplexed. When she threw the stave on the bed and started rummaging through her dresser drawer, he let himself breathe again.

"You're right, Peter. I almost forgot! Professor Von Cross says that I need a focal point when I try casting spells," she giggled and pulled an emerald necklace from the drawer's depths and held it up.

"Behold! My focusing talisman!" Before he could utter one syllable, she had the stave in her right hand again and the necklace in the other.

"I COMMAND you to have your powers back!"

A bolt of spiralling green energy shot from its end. A stream of light so brilliantly emerald that he had time to think he had never truly seen the color before. Then the world went dark.


She dropped the staff and the jewel and ran over to him. Maggy looked back and forth from the slumped body on the floor to the smouldering hole in the side of her armoire and forgot all about feet and focusing gems.

Nothing was quite as sobbering as killing your best friend.

Magdalena Chef

Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Maggy yelled his name and shook him and when that didn't work - slapped him as hard as she could laughing like a lunatic. She pressed her ear against his chest listening for a heartbeat but her own heart pounding in her ears hid anything coming from him.

She begged him, pleaded with him to just open his eyes --and when nothing happened, she promised the empty air in the room that she would do anything if only he were okay. Tears streamed down her face as she made half-crazed bargains with deities and demons. Swore to gods, old and new, that she would pay any price...

But in the end there was only the sound of the sobs ripping from her chest and the smell of scorched cedarwood still clinging to the air as she slowly rocked his body in her arms.

Magdalena Chef

Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Maggy dropped him.


He sat up rubbing his head, "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"You're alive!" Maggyy launched herself at him holding him tight.

"Going to finish me off now?" He extracted himself from her arms and went to stand but his legs jellied under him and he crashed back onto the floor.

"You ok?" Maggy's eyes widened as she slid over to him, Peter just glared at her.

"Alright, you're not okay. I almost just killed you, dumb question," she paused, "here let me check you for...erm..."


She scowled and held him by the chin, turning his head to the side. No blood, no gaping wounds. She lifted his arms and let them drop back into place, they seemed fine. Maggy glanced down at his shirt. There wasn't a rip or a hole where the stream of light struck him, but the material looked melted near the shoulder. She started to unbutton his shirt. What if the skin under it is melted too?

As the third button slipped through its loop she was aware of a strange stillness to the room and looked up.

"Mm...can't help yourself huh? See something you liked and just had to have it?" he cracked a cocky grin.

"Ugh, now I definitely know you're fine." She let go of his shirt, part feigning disgust but mostly because she was embarrassed. The skin underneath was whole and safe. He pushed himself to his feet, sitting on the corner edge of the bed. Maggy sat along the side.

"Remind me never to get you drunk again," he half joked rubbing the back of his neck.

"You got me drunk?!" She twisted around on the mattress ready to lace into him when his shirt slipped and she saw it.

"Um, Peter..."

The color drained from her face as she crawled over to him and yanked his shirt away from his shoulder.

"Do you have any tattoos?"

"Nooo," he said slowly and then slightly more panicked, "why?"

She ran her finger over the strange symbol tracing it. Wherever she touched it, the color darkened briefly and seemed to set itself more into his skin. It made her fingertip tingle and Peter shuddered.

"You do now," she said calmly.

Magdalena Chef

Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Mesmerized, she traced the mark over and over again on his shoulder, testing it. It wasn't her imagination. When her finger broke contact with his skin the tingling, electricity she felt in her fingertip stopped. She leaned over blowing a puff of air on it and the mark darkened when her breath touched it. Peter exhaled slowly.



"Well, what does it look like? That's the third time I've asked you."

"Oh, " she knitted her brows together, "hmm, it kinda looks like the letter T and a fancy H, or it could be a half-moon, maybe a backwards C..." her voice trailed off as she scratched her shoulder. Peter stood, his patience waning.

"Fine, hand me the tablet and quill and I'll draw it for you, " she held her hand out.

He grabbed the materials off the desk and gave them to her. She promptly stuck the quill down the back of her shirt and scrubbed it back and forth.

"What's wrong with you?"

Maggy looked up, "Nothing, why?

"Why are you doing that?" He sat behind her, hooked a finger in her shirt collar and pulled it out . "A cross and sickle."

"Yes! That's what it looks like, how did you know?"

"Because you have one too." Oddly enough her shoulder stopped itching. She was surprised at how well she was taking all of this.

"I know someone who'll know exactly what these are," she hopped to her feet, excited. "You coming?"

"Nah, it's late. I'll stay here and wait for y...." She was already gone, the lingering smell of regeants clung to the air.

Peter shrugged and grabbed one of her textbooks, a thin pamphlet wafted to the floor. He flipped it over noting the title Warrior or MageBoy Who's Right for You? Take our test ! Find out! He snickered and eyed the quill. "I'll just make a few adjustments til she gets back...."