longer.blue

Bridget, on the roof of the Coven's home, sits with her guide open, overlooking the world below. Even this early in the morning, so early that the day has yet to break but fog still blankets the world, lights could be seen frollicking across the road and sidewalks in the distance. The guide, an organized, but rough alignment of notes to a ritual that might be able to transform someone, and looking up, the concrete floor is now arranged to mimic the diagrams in the book, so the only question that remained was if it would work. This was their fourth try and, while she did know there was an answer even if she didn't see it yet, the companion she was working with, was vividly losing hope. Marisa, the companion in question, wasn't here yet to see the completed alchemical circle as she was sent out to try and collect the last component of the ritual, a focus that would allow for its casting. A specialized reflector made for this type of ritual specifically. A ritual to alter a fractured soul. Bridget should have seen it when they first met. Even if she's not the best at soul sensing among those in her coven, or even in the top three, she spent so much time studying Marisa's make-up. She knew something was wrong from the beginning, when Marisa came to her claiming she'd done every spell she could find. Even if she'd done this herself before, modifying it for more specific cases was… difficult. Especially when that case is naturally resilient to most Magick to begin with. Just as the resident alchemist started to let out an exhausted sigh, the door to the roof slammed open, as just the being she was expecting moved into the space. She was clearly attempting to be more delicate than she was, but in her state, miscalculated her strength. “Are you alright, dear?” She asked, knowing the answer, but hoping that talking about it would help the stressed subject. “I'm not your ‘dear’. Everything's fine,” Marisa scolded. “This is our fourth try, right? I just want to get this right, so I can go home, and get out of y'all's hair. Just pour our tea so we can get started.” Bridget couldn't help but visually deflate a smidge, but stood to start boiling a kettle in the tiny outdoor kitchen she had as requested. A little fib she told her that tea can help open oneself to all transformations. It wasn't untrue, but the full truth would have been that she found it calms Marisa down and that the alchemist appreciates using it as a ritual to get in the right headspace. It is also true, however, that it has been much much more time than she had expected when first hearing about Marisa's condition, but that continued to demonstrate its complications. In that time, her patient has been staying close to Bridget and her coven, helping to collect ingredients from places that they couldn't reach, but she could. Everybody has their strengths, and even if Marisa had problems holding magick within herself, her skill at channeling it into other objects was second only to Haruka, and even then was only due to her lack of experience. It all made her a wonderful spellslinger with the correct tools. Being a fractured soul also gave her a resilience when it came to passing through the Hedge, allowing the apprentice witch to cross over into The Hedge, or even to other worlds easier than most. On top of all that the master would still hazard to say that Marisa had some latent potential inside that she’d yet to find. This is aside from the fact that the Coven itself was starting to grow quite fond of Marisa. It wasn't hard for the more timely of the two to tell. They loved getting to see the way that Cattleya stuck around for a little longer now, the way that Haruka started slipping her into conversation and daily ritual, the way Pleat blushed when she smiled at her, the way Ashling bolted to her from across the room planting kisses on her cheek, or even the way that Shiola went from stalking her from afar, to doing it close by while they were cooking together. She felt like she could be a part of their home. However, that isn't her goal here. The kettle started to hiss just as Bridget reached toward her hibiscus tea, but settled for green tea for good luck, and dropped the tea bags into two small glasses. They were slowly filled with water, and as Marisa preferred, topped with a bit of honey. The pair set upon a nearby table, one of whom was refusing to look at the other, but couldn't stop herself from mumbling a small “thanks…” “I think we should take a second to collect ourselves before this morning's attempt. Be honest with me, Marisa, what's wrong?” Bridget pleaded, reaching out to the other girl before she closed herself off too much. “What else needs to be wrong?? I tried so much before coming here and now that I AM here I’ve tried so much again and everything is STILL not working!” Something starts to form in Bridget's sight; the shape of the girl's unrest and guilt. Marisa lets out an exhausted sigh, the fire in her escaping, even as it flames. “I'm tired. I'm tired of having to fight for something that should have been mine to begin with! I’m tired of being slowed down from what I want just because of the way I was born. I've known I wanted this since I was a kid. I thought it was impossible, like some stupid pipe dream. And then when I found it was possible, when I found out how people were doing it? I dove right in! I tried everything, but everything people were doing to get it to work for them, failed. The second I found out it could be done, the second I was given hope, I got it wrenched away…” Marisa's voice died out, but it wasn't hard to see the things she was still saying in her head. The silence was too loud for Marisa. All Bridget could do was hope to drown it out a bit. “I think you made the right decision by coming here, dear. I know you've been fighting this war with the people around you, and with yourself. You've been fighting on your own for so long, at least now, you have people that are willing to fight with you.” Bridget moved her chair to the other side of the table, cautiously, just to prove her own presence. “Haruka, Xetaru, Shiola, Pleat, Ashling, Danielle, gods, even Cattleya was more than happy to help you. Me too, okay?” The tea maker's arm reached gingerly above the struggling girl's shoulder in a light embrace, spooking her, but only for a second. She wasn't used to it. She wasn't used to having another person next to her. Someone willing to hold her up. “I know we've tried a lot since you've been here. I know it's been longer than either of us thought it would be, but we will figure it out. Your situation has been difficult, but it has an answer. It might just be sitting in your pocket right now.” The nervous girl paused for a second, her inner monologue slowing down just a bit, just enough for her to place on the table the last piece of their current attempt: a small, rounded stick connected to a larget oval showing the reflection of the girl as she looked into it. A Soulglass Mirror. While she typically used a shard of such to fight or cast spells, a full one was capable of much much more. It was relatively unassuming, but looking at the face in its reflection was revolting. But, maybe this thing was secretly looking into her soul like the rumors say, reflecting who he truly is. Just some pitiful stupid boy with a broken soul and a gross fe- “Hey! Look at me.” Her eyes were pulled from the glass, and forced back toward the beautiful woman next to her. “Even if it takes years, I promise you we will find a solution. Okay? And I will make sure that it will have been worth the wait. I promise. So don't lose yourself, okay? You're a beautiful and wonderful girl already. You're almost there.” Marisa still couldn't help but look away, a little out of shame and a little out of embarrassment, which helped to hide the tint of red that heated Bridget's face. She further concealed it by picking up the mirror and sitting it in the center of the magic circle she had set up earlier. The spell would be interesting. “Don't you think you're ready to try one more today, dear?” The timid girl's rising from her chair and silent approach was her only reply, sharing the center of the circle with the witch that chose to fight for her. “Alright! So, today's is going to be similar to what we've done in the past, but the mirror is going to add a bit of a kick! We're going to use the Soulglass Mirror as a gateway to try and edit your physical form from the inside instead of from the outside this time. The reason it seems to be failing before is because we had to fight against each Shard of your soul at once. This hopefully takes them out of the equation, as the change itself will be coming from them. A lot of things are going to happen, but I promise you're safe okay? If anything happens that is too much for you, just tell me and I'll stop and check in.” “... I understand. And you too, okay? And thank you again for your help…” The alchemist smiled, tapping her forehead down to the other girl's and taking a deep breath, before stopping there and moving outside the circle with the mirror. “Alright, get comfortable and be happy that it's me doing this and not Cattleya or Ashling. They might have tied you up for this.” That elicited a small snort from the girl while she sat cross legged on the floor. She had mentioned in a previous ritual that she felt powerful inside of the circles. Like a goddess being worshipped, or a demon seducing her prey behind bars, though she'd never really fit either of those roles. She'd make much more sense exactly as she is. She's a fighter, and a strong one at that. She doesn't need more titles or similes to make herself seem powerful to Bridget. “Alright, are you ready?” Her partner nodded and, taking a deep breath, the witch lit the candle that laid at her feet as the air around the pair shifted, filled with Magick. The next time Marisa blinked, she was gone.