The Girls (ft Prince Rhys), Unnecessary Insights

"So yeah, it's basically a Puberty Bomb." You glance Isabelle's way. "Sex Poison? Fuck Grenade?"

The girl shrugs back at you as Jenny takes a moment to stretch out her sides, still short of breath from her extensive training with Rhys. "Beats me. Nymph Nuke?"

Jenny tsks as she strips down to her tank top, fanning her glistening display of almond-toned cleavage as she offers you a quirked eyebrow. "Do we really need a polished term for something we're agreeing not to use? Let's just table all that mess until we deal with our current mess, right?"

Well, she's not wrong. Even though you do like naming things. "Well on that note, then, how'd the training go? Think that push come to shove you'll be able to just go all schoolyard on those assholes?"

Your friend attempts a casual shrug, though you don't miss the way her impressive chest swells with pride. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean, I did land a bunch of hits on Rhys, and he's basically been training to be a knight for his whole life, so, you know. Whatever. I guess I'm pretty great."

Rhys calls out from the kitchen, a pair of water bottles in either hand as he butt-checks the refrigerator door closed. "No kidding; I'm bruised like nobody's business. Also, I vote for Nymph Nuke. Alliteration!"

You consider the matter as Jenny gratefully accepts one of the water bottles from Rhys, immediately pressing it against the side of her head. Honestly, maybe a straight up West Side Story style brawl isn't the worst idea. "Gal's squirrelly, but we've pretty much established she isn't built for a standup fight."

Isabelle nods in hesitant agreement. "And obviously Aisha could be hiding any number of powers, but I sort of don't think that's what she's all about, either." At the sound of her name, a flash of the amber-eyed witch running her tongue across her lips sizzles through your brain. Goddammit, you've got to get a fucking handle on that. If your girlfriend notices your breath momentarily catching in your chest as you banish the teasing succubus from your thoughts, she doesn't show it. "Still. There are definitely others involved, right? One of them could easily be some sort of, um, kicking witch or something."

Luckily, that offhand comment is a lifeline you can cling to. "My mom almost signed on for Kick Witch in ninety seven, but she passed when they replaced Jackie Chan with Steven Seagal."

"Ouch. Good call.

Jenny takes a moment to roll her bottle down her neck before cracking it open. "So let's just think of beating them up as less of a Plan 'A', and more of a solid defense if that winds up being their Plan 'A'."

Isabelle slips the Book back into her bag. "On a different note. Are we going to...I don't know, dress up for this thing? I'm not sure what the exact level of pomp is for a gathering of witches, but...there's got to be some pomp, right? I mean, if we're going to be the magical authority around here then looking the part couldn't hurt."

You didn't expect this from Isabelle! You've gotta tease her. "What, you think we should get all witched up? Big floppy hats, broomsticks? Maybe paint ourselves green?"

She pauses long enough to stick her tongue out at you before continuing on. "Ha. Ha. Obviously we'd do something with more of a modern touch. Your dressier wardrobe is the right idea, Ash, but I've actually got some outfits that might-"

Jenny cuts Isabelle off with a delighted cackle, your girlfriend's ears turning red even before she hears Jenny's interjection. "Oh my God! You want us to dress up as the Hex Girls!"

Isabelle does her best to project a dignified air as she mutters something vaguely like a denial. But the blush spreading down her neck doesn't do her any favors. You're completely lost, though. "Who are the Hex Girls?"

The steadying breath Isabelle takes in preparation for a response is all the time Jenny needs to stampede over the flushing girl's reply. "Okay, so there's this Scooby Doo movie, right? And it's got this girl goth band called the Hex Girls in it? We watched it once at my place when we were like ten, and then next time I stayed at her place she'd gotten her own copy. We watched it so many times. She wanted to dress up as them every Halloween."

Isabelle glares at Jenny. "We didn't watch one movie over and over. There were two! We watched two movies. Okay? It's different. Also, they were in the TV series. Two of them. So there."

Wow, okay. You had not expected to discover which fictional characters led to your girlfriend's sexual awakening tonight, but you are absolutely here for this shit. "Babe, if you want me to dress up as a Scooby Doo character for you, I'm totally down? I'm just surprised it didn't wind up being Velma."

Your girlfriend is trying her best to be embarrassed and annoyed and intrigued by your offer all at once, and it seems to be slightly frying her brain. "Um, thanks. But just to be clear, I'm the Velma here."

Jenny gives a noise of protest around her mouthful of water, swallowing it down before voicing her disagreement. "What? No way; I'd be Velma. Besides, Velma's all about"--She hovers a hand down her side, indicating her curves--"Right?"

That seems to have been enough to allow Isabelle's inner fangirl to win the battle of her warring emotions. "Velma Dinkley is a lesbian icon, and the one straight girl in the group isn't going to be her, tits or not. Besides, you're Daphne."

You cock your head to the side. "So I'm...what? Lady Fred?"

Jenny indicates Rhys, who looks happy to just be around for the conversation, with her water bottle. "Rhys isn't Fred?"

"I don't know. All I know is I'd be Velma." Isabelle considers it for a moment longer. "Also Donna's Shaggy."

You and Jenny share a glance for a moment, and eventually you can only shrug in agreement. That's a pretty fair take. You can't help feeling that you've gotten off track, though. "Well, regardless of what we wear, we should be safe during and immediately after the summit. I've got that placed runed to hell, and **** being there every day keeps them overclocked at all times. It's like having solar panels on the surface of the fucking sun.

That prompts a frown from Jenny. "Yeah, speaking of that. Are we counting **** as a plus for us in all of this? I mean, technically she's under our-" The girl cuts off as the three of you abruptly shiver in unison, a strange prickly tingle working its way up your spine to leave static in your hair and a faint, unpleasantly sweet taste lingering in your mouth. The three of you share a tense look, Jenny pursing her lips after a moment. "...Uh

Rhys swallows his mouthful of water, eyebrows scrunched as he shoots you a quizzical look. "Who's ****?"

"That's...well, I guess we don't really know?" You glance towards Isabelle and Jenny, but neither seems willing at the moment to offer any theories. "She's some sort of magical being. A woman who was coming after us tricked her into becoming her power source, or something like that."

The elf prince furrows his brow a little further. "Really? Was this woman forcing her to cast spells on you or something?"

Jenny shakes her head. "No? It was more like she'd gotten **** into a really binding contract. We think it was meant to be a Monkey's Paw type deal with wishes going horribly wrong type situation, but the Dean had thought it out enough to enslave her instead. Not that it worked out for her in the end."

Rhys takes a moment to process that, his normally sincere expression turning increasingly troubled. "That...doesn't sound good. It sounds like she's a------------"

You understand, intellectually, that the last word out of Rhys's mouth was in English. But the tiny part of your brain that is still an unevolved ape-like creature refuses to accept it, rejecting the language in primal terror to replace it with a flash of images and feelings. You get the overwhelming sense of being surrounded by darkness, the faint outline of giant teeth just barely brushing against where the light ends. Of hateful fire that draws you in even as you desperately attempt to recoil, promising to banish the cold even as it ruins everything it touches. Of the dreadful, unbearable hope that every prey animal carries within their heart: that maybe, just maybe, you'll get out of this alive. But probably not. Probably, you'll still be screaming long after they begin eating you.

At some point Isabelle slipped her hand into yours, her fingers squeezed tightly enough that you feel her nails digging into your skin. That disgustingly sweet taste is pulsing in the back of your throat, and it feels like you've bitten your tongue. Or rather, like someone has bitten your tongue. At length, you break the silence. "So...let's just mark her down as 'neutral', then. And maybe stop talking about her. Like, forever."

Jenny does her best to hide the quaver in her arm as she quickly takes another gulp from her water bottle. "Uh, yeah. Good plan. Look, let's call it a night, okay? It seems like we're starting to overthink this whole thing. And I, uh, think I need to go hug my mom as soon as possible."

No disagreements here. You're pretty sure you need to hug Jenny's mom as soon as possible, too.