Beatrix Étienne, the Queen Bee

Oh God, fucking Queen Bea. On one hand, it's almost comforting to know that she's part of a cabal of witches committed to your destruction. Like, you already wanted to absolutely wreck her and rub mud in her hair, and now it would be an act of self-defense rather than a furious tantrum. On the other hand, she's standing right in front of you now and just the sight of her smug, perfect face as she utterly ignores you sends all your hurt and outrage from her videos flooding back into your poor unprepared brain. She's got you so far on the back foot; you have to say something now or you'll be stuck there forever. Okay, here we go. It's quip time.

"You're Queen Bea."

Fuck.

The elegant witch gives you the absolute smallest amount of side-eye possible, one eyebrow arched as she lets your belly flop of a bon mot wriggle and die in your embarrassed silence. Then she turns her eyes back to Jenny, offering her an indulgent smile. "Your friend is a fan! My Cameo prices are a bit steep, but I'm sure if you all chip in-"

You've clenched your fists so hard that you suspect your fingernails are beginning to draw blood as you take a step forward, your shame burned away by your molten rage. "You know who I fucking am. You need to stop saying shit about my mom."

The girl quirks her eyebrow again, then offers a dramatic gasp. "Oh, you're the one who's Mallory Price's daughter! Right, I suppose the tits are a dead give away." Gal titters at that as Bea taps a ivory-polished fingernail to her chin. "It's strange though; I was really surprised to hear she even had a daughter. I know a girl has to work, and 'accidents' will happen after all those trips to the casting couch, but after terminating all the others ones I don't understand why she kept..."-She cuts off with another dramatic gasp-"Oh! Did they botch the job? Is that why you're all...like you are?"

Isabelle and Jenny step in front of you in unison as you silently quake in fury. Bea's gloating expression turns a touch sour as Jenny clamps a hand onto her shoulder, Isabelle's voice as hard and flat as you've ever heard it. "You can apologize right now, or we can fight right now. Your choice."

The stylish girl sniffs at that, though you don't miss that she glances back at her allies. When neither Aisha nor Gal seems prepared to leap her to defense, she swivels her head back to you. You're all too ready to accept the stare down, her hazel eyes and your gray ones flaring with sure intensity that you're surprised the air between you hasn't begun rippling with heat. For a moment, it seems like she may actually opt for tearing into one another with tooth and fist. You fucking hope she does.

Then she sniffs again. "Sorry, Ashley."

Isabelle all but snarls at the the girl. "You think that's good enough?! That's--!"

"It's fine." You gently interrupt your girlfriend, stepping forward to touch Jenny and Isabelle reassuringly when they start to protest. "No seriously, I mean it. If I have to listen to her apologize again, I'll probably throw up."

Bea scoffs at that, plucking Jenny's hand from her shoulder as Aisha starts forward. "Are we done with the dominance displays? Or do you want to throw some leaves into the air and stomp around for a while longer?"

Bea chuckles at that, eyeing her ally's robe as if seeing it for the first time. "You went for ceremonial? Seriously, Aisha? You're such a dork."

"Fuck you, bitch." Aisha produces a small folder from within her robes. "So before we get started. I'm assuming everyone involved with your coven isn't here tonight, right? That's fine; we've obviously only got the important players here as well. Still, part of our accord involves bringing everyone out of the shadows." She extends the folder to Isabelle. "This is a list of all our associates and menials. A few thralls of mine, several drones of Beatrix's, and no one for Nell because she's a disgusting little gremlin no one likes."

Gal slash Nell has a finger all the way up her nose. "Fair."

Isabelle carefully takes the envelope, still worked up but attempting to match Aisha's professional tone. "Okay. Besides us, we have a herd of fourteen cows. Two human, twelve fauns. I'll leave you a list of their names when we're done"

Jenny jumps in. "We've also formed a pact with the Queen of the Elves. Obviously we won't be able to give you the names of every elf, so we'll just add 'Every Goddamn Elf' as the last entry."

Aisha makes a show of being impressed. "Royal alliances! Fancy. Well that just leaves our formal introductions." She flips back her hood, the sight of her dazzling smile burning into your eyes as she gives a small bow. "Aisha Singh."

Gal drops into a curtsy that would be almost elegant, if it hadn't caused her oversized pussy to loudly squelch. "I fucked my name away; I don't give a shit what you call me."

Queen Bea draws herself up even straighter, her eyes having regained all of their imperious steel as she gives a regal nod. "Beatrix Étienne."

"Jennifer Park."

"Isabelle Vargas-Holt."

"Ashley Fucking Price. Let's do this."

The three Others have lined up by now, Beatrix's smile nowhere near her eyes as she glances towards the Dead Tree. "So do you three even know what to do? Or are we going to have to walk you through it? Because even given the strangeness of the circumstances, we still have to summon the current Authority."

You offer Beatrix a withering look. "We're prepared, don't worry."

The elegant witch presses her hand to her chest. "Oh, are we now? Well that's just great. I guess it's the two of us then, isn't it?"

"It was always going to be."

Beatrix offers you a humorless smirk in response, and then the two of you march in tandem towards the Dead Tree. Your respective allies follow at a distance as the two of you place your hands on the ashen gray trunk of the huge, leafless tree, mirroring one another as you both intone in wordless unison. The tree begins to shake and groan, wide limbs shuddering as your voices rise in pitch and a thin line begins to smolder down the lifeless bark. You both reach forward, fingers digging into the newly formed crevice, and then with matched **** you both pull back to rip open a doorway in the center of the Dead Tree. For a moment there is nothing inside by swirling madness, and then out tumbles a somewhat surprised looking bimbo and the door slams shut.

God, you still can't get over what a number you did on the Once Mysterious Voice. Where there used to be a powerful, handsome woman, now there is a cartoonish sex fantasy pulled from the sketchbook of a particular deviant thirteen year old. She tries to shake her long blonde pigtails out of her Barbie doll face, wide blue eyes filled with dim confusion as her obscene lips still try to suck the cock she was obviously in the middle of blowing. She struggles upright, her itty pink tank top bunched up over her overgrown boobs, then squeals in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as she settles back on her outrageous bubble butt. She quickly works her hand underneath her callipygian ass, groaning as she carefully pulls out one of the largest buttplugs you've ever seen and dumps it onto the ground. "Haha, whoopsie!"

You glance over at Beatrix, not surprised to see that she's taking the fate of her former mistress with what appears to be deep satisfaction. Though that is practically empathetic compared to Gal, who has flipped her skirt back up and begun furiously jilling off. "Omigod, it's so much better than the v-video! Look at you, y-you dumb, uh~! You-Uh~! It's happening! Fuckin', mmph~! Yes! YESS~!" She shrieks in ungodly ecstasy as her boneless legs give out underneath her, collapsing in a heap to mindlessly spasm and grind her exploding pussy against the ground

The Former Dean blinks stupidly as Gal's primal wails taper off, the girl left a in a quivering, drooling pile on the grass. "Um...me next?"

When neither Aisha nor Beatrix make any move towards Gal, Isabelle gives them an incredulous look. "Are you just going to leave her there? Is she even okay?"

Beatrix shrugs. "She'll be fine. Eventually. It doesn't matter; we've got her proxy in case of this exact event." Isabelle clearly wants to protest, but Beatrix doesn't get her room to cut in. Instead, she turns towards the still confused looking bimbo and offers her an elegant bow. "Mistress. We have come to you with an issue only the Authority may resolve. Will you hear us?"

The Former Dean blinks again, her eyes darting towards you with a look of utter helplessness. Better give her a hand. "Say yes."

The bimbo quickly nods, thrilled at not having to figure this out herself. "Yes!"

Beatrix rolls her eyes, but continues on. "Our two parties have gathered at this summit, at this sacred place, to settle the issue of your succession."

"Wrong."

"What?" Beatrix shoots daggers at you with her narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, 'wrong'?"

This fucking asshole. She really thinks you didn't do any of the research, doesn't she? Well, usually she'd have been right. Not tonight, though. "We aren't claiming to succeed the Authority. We are formalizing our conquest of the Authority."

Your rival nearly bares her teeth at you, and though she recovers almost immediately you're going to cherish that moment for the rest of your life. That's right, you've prepared for another one of her amateur hour tricks. Donna told you in no uncertain terms that official heirs have the right of succession at all times, with the singular exception of a conquest of the throne. If you'd agreed that you were here to 'settle the issue of succession', the Others would have immediately be granted the position of power. Beatrix doesn't visibly respond to the smug look you give her, instead gesturing towards the Former Dean in a show of deference. "Then by all means, Mighty Conqueror. Prove your dominance."

The Once Mysterious Voice goggles up at you as you turn towards her, leaning down to give her a good look at your face. "You remember me, don't you?"

She tilts her head to one side, eyebrows knitted together as she sucks on her index finger and does her best to work this out. For a moment you think she isn't going to work it out, but then she lets out an affronted gasp. "Hey! Hey, yeah! You're, um, the one who made my magic all poopy an' stuff! Give me back my magic!" She pokes a finger into your right breast, prompting you to quickly straighten back up. "You've still got bigger boobies than me too! Make my boobies bigger than yours or I'll, like, kill you!"

Good to see she's still the same little monster on the inside. You fold your arms under your chest, making a show of pressing your fat rack up even more. "Go ahead then. Kill me."

The Former Dean stares at you for a moment, huffing in outrage. Then she furrows her brow, teeth gritted as she musters up whatever concentration is left in that puff of cotton candy you've turned her mind into. Her eyes cross slightly as her cheeks puff out, the bimbo doing everything she can to conjure murderous power. She struggles for nearly a minute before she finally lets out her held breath in a gasp, pouting as she rips up a handful of grass and impotently tosses it at you. "Um, there. You're dead."

You take a moment to brush the grass off of your breasts, leveling your gaze on Beatrix. "She's done." The elegant witch doesn't object as she moves to reopen the portal in the Dead Tree, the Former Dead still sulky as you help her up. "Hey, look on the bright side. You've got something, uh, fun to get back to? At least?"

That immediately brightens the bimbo's mood, the shame of her total defeat absolutely evaporating as you and Beatrix pull open the magical door. "Oooo, yes~! There's, like, a bunch of yummy dicks through there!" She prods you in the shoulder, eyes narrowed into flints as she stares you down. Huh, you can still see the embers of the Mysterious Voice deep in those eyes. "They're all for me, got it? My dicks. Mine."

You nod solemnly. "Deal."

The bimbo claps in delight, bending over to clamor through the portal. The moment she's fully presenting her her over ripe rear, however, Beatrix calls out. "Don't forget your things, Former Mistress!" With that she pops the huge buttplug back into the Former Dean's ass and shoves her through the doorway, the once mighty witch vanishing into the darkness with a thankful-sounding squeal.

As the two of you turn to face one another again, you can't help feeling annoyed that Beatrix looks fully pleased with how this has gone. You suppose that even if you didn't fall for her trick, her former master being officially out of the picture can only be a good thing for her. Ugh. Whatever. You clear your throat, only for Beatrix to quickly cut you off. "So. You claim conquest. We claim our right to challenge, as wrongfully displaced heirs."

That's basically what you expected. "That's not an equal claim to ours. Your only option is to prove us unfit through conquest of your own."

"Obviously. So what shall we call it, then? Obviously no one wants blood in the streets. How about until the other side surrenders? Or is unable to participate? Looking at what you did to the Mistress, the risk of a default victory seems higher than usual."

"Not endless. We want a time limit. Past that, your claim is forfeit."

Beatrix frowns. "That's hardly fair."

You raise your eyebrows at the girl. "We could always fight right now. I can bring my shields back up at any time. How confident are you that you can break them before Jenny gets the bat from her trunk?"

Beatrix mulls that over, clinking her teeth together. "Not very. Fine. Until Halloween, then? Seems obviously fitting."

"Halloween? Seriously? You poseur." Your rival smirks as you continue on. "If you think we're giving you two whole months, you're insane."

"Fine. First weekend in October, then. Or I guess we'll have to find out how fast Jenny really is with that bat of hers."

You nod curtly, and when Beatrix makes to turn away you speak up again. "We've got one more stipulation."

Beatrix gives a long-suffering sigh, slumping her shoulders in an exaggerated show of boredom. "Ugh, what nooow?"

"Families are off limits."

The other girl makes a noise that's half scoff and half grunt of disbelief. "Wow. Okay. You are telling me that families are off limits? Bitch, you are fucking shameless."

Alright, that's super confusing but seriously pisses you off. "You're the one trashing my mom all the time! Don't you fucking call me shameless!"

Beatrix stares at you for a moment, brow crinkled in the first show of genuine confusion you've seen from her all night. "Wait. You don't know, do you?"

"Don't know what." Your rival straights up again, thoughts racing behind her eyes. The fuck? "Don't know what?"

Beatrix's mask of smug perfection is back again, as if it never left. "Oh, just that those videos of your mom are huge for my engagement numbers. We can agree on making physical and magical attacks on families taboo, but if you think I'm going to stop making my videos to spare your feewings, then you should just surrender right now." Ugh, fuck her. You know you aren't getting more than that, though. You nod, and she continues on. "So where do we draw the line? I'm not going to eat a penalty because it turns out some bystander is your long lost relative."

"First cousin."

Beatrix offers something that sounds surprisingly close to an actual chuckle at that. "Really? Are you sure? Honestly, I'd thought you would see leaving first cousins in play as a plus."

"Look, do you agree or not?!"

"Fine, fine!" Beatrix waves you down, an act that only makes you more annoyed. "I guess we'll need to set a penalty then. What will the punishment be for anyone on our side who attacks any enemy relation within two familial generations of a common ancestor?"

"...The Ardor."

Beatrix shrugs, evidently not all that interested in the matter. "Fine, whatever. And for your side, I don't know, spontaneous combustion? It's not like Aisha or Nell have any family anyway." She pauses, shooting you an entirely sincere look. "You're sure? Because seriously, I'm more than willing to take out Jessie for you. Call it a sporting gesture."

"Fuck you, Beatrix. I'm not like that."

"Fuck you, Ashley. You are fucking exactly like that." She doesn't give you a chance to respond, the portal she'd made her entrance through already sparkling back into existence. "Very well! It seems like we have an accord, then. The current peace to be extended, say, twenty-four hours?"

That's midnight tomorrow. The flow of crimson and silver has already cascaded down from the hole in the night sky, Aisha gathering up the still insensate Gal as you respond. "Agreed."

A handshake would probably be fitting here, but you're not doing that shit. Seeing as she doesn't offer one, Beatrix must agree, the witch following her allies up up her magical stairway as you head back to join Isabelle and Jenny. Isabelle slips her hand into yours, giving it a squeeze as the three of you watch the Others vanish through their portal. Jenny frowns, waiting for the passage to vanish behind Beatrix before she speaks up. "I can't believe they agreed to all of that. Aren't they in an objectively worse position now?"

Isabelle murmurs in agreement. "I seems that way. That can't be true, though. I bet they get some particular benefit from this being a 'formal' war now. There has to be something, it just isn't apparent yet."

Jenny nods in agreement. "It has to be something like that. Otherwise they'd have just used whatever their secret weapon was before we even knew who they were, right?"

Isabelle starts to respond, then she notices your cat-like smile. Alright, you've let them wonder long enough. Time to make a reveal of your own. "Well whatever their plan is, we don't have to worry about it being a secret for long." The other two wait for you to continue, Isabelle quickly getting impatient and giving you a sharp poke in the shoulder. "Okay, okay! Look, Beatrix **** me to let her through my shields so she could make her big stupid entrance, right?" When you get nods, you continue on. "Well, they may have been down, but that doesn't mean they were gone. So when the three of them made their big stupid exit..."

Jenny picks up where you're leading. "...Your runes rubbed off on them? We know where they're going?"

You raise a hand to your gaped mouth in a show of mock disbelief. "Why Jenny! Of course I don't! I would never use my powers to track the traces of my magic left on them! Not while we're still under an accord, at least. In twenty-four hours, though, I would definitely do that. And then probably cheer and do a bunch of fist pumps."

Isabelle grins, reaching out to brush her hand through your hair. "Aw, babe. You're gonna rub this right in that awful girl's face, aren't you."

"Yes. Yes I am."