Players:
Summary: Tabitha makes quite an entrance.
Date: April 8, 2012
Log Title: Rudely Interrupted
Rating: PG-13
NYC - City Hall Park
In front of the large white building with pillars, American Flags, and bell tower on top, is City Hall Park with its extravagant fountain. Four sets of black iron gas lamps sit on the four corners of the fountain, there the only gas lamps left in the city. Four spouts of water shoot in the center tier of the fountain and shower down into the water below. Four smaller pools sit on each side of the fountain where water pours into them from the main part. Benches sit all around the fountain with trees and flowers covering the grass behind.
Curled up in a sitting position on one of the benches in the quiet park is Jeremy. His knees are practically tucked under his chin as he stares at the water founding, smoking his cigarette. He's dressed in a jacket over a pair of cargo pants, scarf and gloves despite the fact that it's no longer winter. He barely seems to notice much of what's going on around him as his eyes are focused on the water.
It's often difficult to make out Donna's shape at night; partly because the slender woman is skilled at moving in relative silence and used to sticking to the shadows, partly because the shadows tend to stick to *her* just as much. Thus, it's likely rather surprising, that a lilting woman's brogue drifts to Jeremy, from less than ten feet away. "Sandwich for a fag, then?"
Jeremy visibly jumps when Donna address him and he looks around to find the source of the voice. The wide-eyed teen looks over at the woman and stares at her with fear and caution. "What? I'm not homeless." He says at the offer of the sandwich. Jeremy's voice is quiet and he mutters a bit, the discomfort obvious. "Uh, do you want a cigarette?"
"I would," Donna replies, still holding out the wrapped-up half of the Reuben, visible eyebrow raised and a touch of amusement on her face, "but a kindness for a kindness makes everyone happy. Besides, you look like you could use a snack." Dressed warmly for the weather herself, in a black mock-turtleneck sweather, old jeans, and hiking boots, the pale woman seems to be doing rather the best she can to appear non-threatening at the moment.
Jeremy looks at the sandwich and shakes his head. "I'm not hungry, thank you." He says as he folds his legs so that they are touching the ground and he digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before holding one out to Donna. "You don't have to repay me for it." He's skill a bit skittish and Jeremy tries to keep his hand from shaking.
Donna's eyebrow twitches up a bit further, but the sandwich is dropped back into the plastic bag, which is then stowed in an old and bulky messenger bag at her hip. "As you like, then…" The cigarette, plucked deftly out of Jeremy's fingers and transferred to her mouth, hands cupped over the end as she turns away from the breeze. A short flash, and the snap of an electric lighter, and the cigarette is glowing merrily. "Ah… thank you, lad, very much. May I?" The other end of the bench is waved at.
"Do you need…a..light…nevermind." Jeremy says as she provides her own. He leans back and gives Donna a shrug. "If you want." It's not like it's his bench and he can tell her no. His eyes glance over Donna with a puzzled expression, like Jeremy's trying to figure out if there's an alternate motive behind her actions.
Donna inclines her head, and takes a seat, keeping sure to provide as much space as she can between the two of them. Taking a long drag on the cigarette, she lets the smoke drift from her nose, in a pair of lazy, winding trails. "Thank you, again… I've not wanted a smoke in some time, and I'd left my card at home when I went out, today." Glancing down at herself, she tips a smirk toward Jeremy. "Not easy trying to convince some people you're at least ten years older than they take you for."
"You look old enough to me." Jeremy says in his quiet voice before catching his words. "I don't mean that you look old, just you look older than me and I'm old enough." He stumbles over his words trying to back peddle out of what could be a potential insult. "I hope I just didn't screw up you trying to quit?" He says since Donna said she hasn't wanted one in a long time.
The observation, and the patently unsuccessful backtracking, doesn't seem to do more than cause the woman to chuckle under her breath, shaking her head. "No, no, you don't need to to worry about that, lad," She says, leaning back against the bench and casting her visible eye out over the water. "I doubt I've ever smoked often enough for the habit to find its feet, so now and again won't do me any harm, I think. Beer, now… that's rather a different story altogether, but, not one that would interest you, I'd wager."
Jeremy shakes his head. "I have too many stories from other people in my head already." He says as he takes a long inhale on the cigarette. "But I can't stop you from telling it." Since to him, it really doesn't matter what he wants since not many seem to care. "I don't really drink, smoking is my vice. Couldn't give it up if I tried."
Donna tilts her head. "Well, why would I do that, then? There's simply no *point* to telling a story, if you're the only one interested in hearing it, and I don't think I *quite* love the sound of my own voice *that* much, lad." Chuckling, she shakes her head, taking another draw from her cigarette. "Donna, by the way."
After a few seconds of silence, to the point where it seems like Jeremy might not even responds he offers his name. "Jeremy." He runs a hand back through his long hair nervously. "Most people like to talk and not listen to what the other has to say. They don't care."
Donna falls silent for a moment, a small frown passing over her pale face. "…That's rather cruel, innit? No, lad… Jeremy… You'll not find that sort of treatment out of me. I know all too well what it's like to not have a choice, what you do. And by the look of things, so do you, and I'll not add to those troubles."
Right after he finishes up his cigarette, Jeremy's legs pull back up onto the bench and he hugs them against his chest. "Most people are cruel…..and I'm not saying that because I'm being bitter, I'm saying that because it's what I've seen." He then looks over at her and blinks, seeming surprised. "I have a choice on what I do, just all the choices aren't good ones."
Donna tips her cigarette towards Jeremy, conceding the point. "That's not quite so bad, then… but it's a near thing. So, then… I think I've talked enough for the moment, why don't I simply listen, if you'd like?"
"There's nothing to talk about." Jeremy says defensively, bitting the inside of his cheek. "Besides, I barely even know you." He and highly doubts she'd be able to understand since after all, in his opinion, Donna is just a regular person wouldn't understand in regards to powers.
"Wouldn't that make it worse, then?" Donna counters, tilting her head, visible eye curious. "If you did, that'd mean you'd already gotten the rough end of the pineapple at my hands, and you couldn't trust me father than I could throw you. But," she says, lifting her shoulder and turning to gaze out over the lake, "it is, after all, your choice." The cigarette is brought up for another long drag, and she tilts up her head, blowing a smoke ring, then another, then a third, drifting together to link together, tumbling as one through the air.
There's that word, trust, and Jeremy visibly winces as she talks. "No offense, but I trust you less than that now." He admits softly. "And by saying that, it's almost like saying you're not someone I should trust. Like saying by knowing you, I'd not trust you." He says to her as he fishes around for another cigarette.
"You said that, lad, not I," Donna notes, still looking out over the fountain. But, apparently, she's satisfied not saying anything more, blowing out another pair of smoke rings that revolve around each other, never touching, never drifting far apart.
Jeremy fumbles with his lighter for a bit as his gloves don't make it easy, after a few attempts he sighs, pulls off the glove and holds onto the lighter. He's gripping it with a vacant expression for a bit before wincing and putting the flame up to the end of the cigarette. After taking a long inhale, he slips the glove back on and fights through the images flashing through his head in regards to the glove. "Why do you even act like you care?"
Donna's eye flicks to one side, watching Jeremy attempt to work the lighter. The pause, and the wince, seem to snag hold of her attention, but she makes no comment about it. "…Why do you act like you don't?" is all she says, instead.
"Because, it doesn't matter what I say or do, things are going to stay the same and just get worse. I just doesn't matter." Jeremy says tightening on himself even more. "It just doesn't m
"Because, it doesn't matter what I say or do, things are going to stay the same and just get worse. It doesn't matter." Jeremy says tightening on himself even more. "It just doesn't matter." He closes his eyes tight and takes a few deep breaths to fight the tightening in his throat.
Sitting with her back to the Park proper, only the top of her head sticking out over the benches as she stares at the fountain in front of them, Jeremy and Donna converse, quietly. "I remember those words," Donna says quietly, settling herself on the bench and bringing the cigarette up to her lips again. "I've said them myself, now and again… May I ask, what's made you think that, Jeremy?"
"And here we have, on our grand tour of New York: City Hall." Tabitha Jones' voice is suddenly heard from behind the bench where Donna and Jeremy are sitting; and indeed, Tabitha has just appeared there along with Fiona, with whom she is holding hands. "So, okay, all bullshit aside, Fiona; have you ever teleported anywhere with Jules? And how do my skills measure up? Tell me honestly, I'm trying to get better at this."
"Well…" Fiona trails off, "I have! And he's better than you, I guess. I mean, he once teleported us to the top of the empire state building, and then kissed me, so. I'm just not sure you can really measure up to that!" the girl explains, laughing softly. "But really, you're surprisingly good. Especially for someone who's only had it for so long… I guess… you're planning on keeping it then?"
Jeremy focuses on his cigarette which shakes in his trembling hand. "They way people act. Stuff that's happened." He says to Donna. "It's…complex." Then at the sound of Tabitha's voice along with another girls voice, he freezes up and "I…I should go." He says cautiously and quietly.
Donna's eyes flick to the side, in the general direction of the girls' voices. "Only if you like, lad," she murmurs. "I know those two; if you want, they'll quickly give us space to talk. I can see to it."
Tabitha's ears perk up, and she tilts her head to look over her shoulder. "Oh, hi Jeremy," she greets. "And, Hi… Fiona's… friend-person." She shrugs her shoulders lightly, and for the moment releases Fiona's hand. "Actually, I don't take orders from you," she points out, hooking her thumbs into the top pockets of her cargos, "But I can respect a private conversatoin, so if you want to have one, you could simply *ask*."
Fiona hears Donna's voice, turning her head towards it, "I don't think she meant it that way, Tabitha…" she murmurs - trying again to keep things cool between the two. Becuase really, that's the last thing she needs.
Jeremy shakes his head at Donna. "No….I..uh. Hi Tabitha." He says wishing she didn't spot him. He just wishes he could disappear right now. The fellow Barnes girl doesn't get a glance from Jeremy as he keeps his eyes downcast. "I…really should go." He says as he starts to focus on finishing up his cigarette so he can take off.
For just a moment, Donna looks furious enough to tear a strip of hide off the nearest person within reach. A heartbeat later, however, her features settle into a look of polite understanding, her head inclined. "Another time, perhaps. You bring the cigarettes, I shall bring the drinks. Tea, likely." Closing her visible eye, she takes a deep breath, saving her diatribe for a better moment than in front of Jeremy.
Tabitha hunhs softly. "No, seriously Jeremy, it's cool," she murmurs, rocking back and forth lightly on her feet. "Really, if you want a private confab with…" She pauses, and shrugs her shoulders, "With the nice lady who's name I still don't know, that's fine by me, I'll clear out. I Really just kinda came here at random anyway." She turns, and glances towards Fiona. "Should we just go? …I know a great place for burgers, if you like. Way better than that McDonalds crap."
"We can do that!" Fiona nods quickly - what are the odds that she would randomly teleport into a part with Donna, who seems to be having a private conversation? Seriously. Someone's messing with the laws of probability in the universe.
There's another shake of his head as he drops the small remainder of his cigarette and stands up. "Have a good night. It was nice meeting you." He mutters to Donna before he hurries out of the park, anxious to find another place to be alone.
Donna brings the ciagrette to her lips as Jeremy leaves, taking another long drag, and letting it out in a cloud of irritation. Reaching one hand up, she crooks her finger in Fiona's general direction. "…And now that *that* conversation is irreparably ruined — very good job, Tabitha, you've a bright future in social demolition, I'd hazard — I believe Fiona has homework I've given her that she'd like to talk about? Stay if you like, Tabitha, *this* one isn't to private as all that, nothing for your pride to demolish."
Tabitha perks an eyebrow upwards. "Right," she replies, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and adopting a casual stance. "Careful you don't get soot on yourself there, Miss Perfect Ettiquette." She remains standing precisely where she is, though she does turn to gaze in the opposite direction; as she looks up at the structure that is city hall, she fishes in one of her pockets until she produces a small rubix cube; and then she holds out her palm, and the cube levitates up in the air in front of her. The rat girl seems quite content to focus her attentions on it, for the moment, as the squares rotate and click on their own, all without Tabitha actually touching it.
"Oh… yeah… about that…" Fiona rubs the back of her neck, clearly pretty intimidated by Donna. About like one would be in front of an angry parent. Which is pretty accurate, as Donna is basically her mom right now. As far as those things go. "I… um… Connor is at Xavier's. Either there, or in Romania…" the girl trails off. She looks over at Tabitha curiously - at least there's not a huge amount of trouble. And she's so totally NOT gonna tell Donna how she got that information… she really likes NOT being electrocuted.
"It's astounding," Donna murmurs, "how much you Americans substitute mouth for mind. I could almost despair of teaching Fiona *anything* at all." Patting the back of the bench nearest her, she tilts her head Fiona's way. "And this Xavier's is… what, then?"
"Xaviers is none of your business," Tabitha cuts in sharply. "And that's not me and my Idaho bad attitude, that's orders, and they ain't up for discussion. Sorry." Tabitha tilts her head to give Fiona a meaningful look, before going back to her rubix cube. "Anyway, as I recall it, Americans more or less came from the same place as you British people… and you're the ones who invented stuff like 'gunboat diplomacy', not us. Come on, woman, you can't seriously expect us Americans to take all the credit for wearing big boots and stomping about."
The apprentice shakes her head, "Tabitha… TABITHA!" Fiona says firmly, "She's Irish, not British. There's a big difference. And… I dunno…" Fiona sighs, shaking her head as she opens her mouth to speak, "Nobody ever told ME I couldn't talk about it. I'm not a mutant, I'm not allowed to go there, so it really doesn't have much to do with me. Besides, you don't go there either," she turns to Donna, explaining more in detail, "It's the school that my boyfriend goes to. Happens to be the place where several of those students were snatched from. From what I gather, not that I'm allowed to go anywhere near it, it's a school for mutants. Well, supposed to be a secret school for mutants. But they're not really that great at keeping it a secret…" She rubs her head. Why do her teacher and best friend keep running into each other? Oh that's right, it's because of her. She frowns just thinking about it.
"Irish, and then taught all I know at the foot of a German sorceror with a bad attitude and less patience than I could *begin* to match," Donna confirms, showing as many teeth as possible Tabitha's way. "And even *he* would know better than to attempt to give orders after such a grand display of dick-waving. Butting into a private conversation just to inform us of how much you respect private conversations, child?" The sorceress tilts her head back, laughing softly. "That is not diplomacy, child, that is abject egotistical *stupidity,* something America has *long* held the market on. Now then." Turning back to Fiona, she puts on a pleasant, attentive smile. "So, this Xavier's. How did you find out about this?"
The rat girl's eyebrows sharply rise. "Great, you're Irish. Go bake a potatoe or something." The rubix cube in the air in front of her snaps into the currect setup, before immediately scrambling itself up again. "You just said this wasn't private, and what's more? You missed the part about orders. As in, instructions, like those things you give to Fiona when you expect them done and there isn't any option in the matter. Protecting secrets is one of those orders." Tabitha adopts the most patient tone of voice she possibly can, as she goes about the business of explaining herself. "And Fiona, darlin', I *really* like you, but you've already said enough that I'm going to have to report it up yo my superiors. And not because I want to be a bitch, but because there are people who's security need to be protected, and you're currently blowing it. Like, your boyfriend, for example."
"Fine! Report me! I don't give a shit about the government or anything they want to do. I'm already on the run from the police /anyway./ And what? Don- …" Fiona coughs, "STORMWALTZER is not going to hurt them. I trust her with my life. I trust her with YOUR life. She can be mean at times, but she knows what she's doing. Trust me." Fiona sighs, tapping her chin. "So, getting their students kidnapped and then having to come to US about it to fix their problem in the first place, but not telling us anything about them? That's protection? Who the fuck KNOWS what they are doing there in that secret facility! Heck, it could be government experiments for all I know. This is the same sorta crap the NSA and the CIA pull and just expect everyone to be okay with!" The sorceress shakes her head, "Anyway, what do you want me to do, just abandon my training on your command because you two can't fucking get along? Do you realize what they would probably DO with me? DO YOU FUCKING REALIZE WHAT IS INSIDE MY HEAD?" th
"Fine! Report me! I don't give a shit about the government or anything they want to do. I'm already on the run from the police /anyway./ And what? Don- …" Fiona coughs, "STORMWALTZER is not going to hurt them. I trust her with my life. I trust her with YOUR life. She can be mean at times, but she knows what she's doing. Trust me." Fiona sighs, tapping her chin. "So, getting their students kidnapped and then having to come to US about it to fix their problem in the first place, but not telling us anything about them? That's protection? Who the fuck KNOWS what they are doing there in that secret facility! Heck, it could be government experiments for all I know. This is the same sorta crap the NSA and the CIA pull and just expect everyone to be okay with!"
The sorceress shakes her head, "Anyway, what do you want me to do, just abandon my training on your command because you two can't fucking get along? Do you realize what they would probably DO with me? DO YOU FUCKING REALIZE WHAT IS INSIDE MY HEAD?" the girl's eyes, by this point, are glowing a familiar bright purple as she balls up her fists. Norg is like a snake - or slime. Always finding some new crevice to climb into to fuck with her, even as she's TALKING ABOUT THAT VERY THING happening.
And as Fiona's eyes light up, Donna moves like… well lightning. Vaulting over the back of the bench and snatching hold of Fiona's wrist, the pale woman snaps the girl's arm out and kicks her legs away, shoving her face-first into the dirt. "Good show, Tabitha," Donna says, pleasantly, even as she straddles Fiona's back to press down on her free arm with a knee. "You really *do* know how to bring out the best in everyone, don't you? Now, Fiona. Remember what I've taught you, and try not to choke on the grass. Once you're back, tell me again, how you came by this information."
Tabitha's ears twitch as she receives a very loud rebuke from Fiona; but as Donna puts the purple-eyed girl down on the ground, the rat simply sighs heavily, as she continues concentrating on her rubix cube. "OKay, where to begin." She holds out her hands, to start counting things off on her fingers. "One. You're missing the point of orders. Doesn't matter if I like them or not, or if I think they're a good idea, or what other people have been doing. Two, this thing that's in your head, Fiona, you've just told everyone within about forty feet, some of whom are looking at us like there's a major problem. We are in public, afterall. Three. Stormwaltzer, or Donald, or whatever you want to be called, we *are* in front of City Hall, and you've just assaulted someone. It's probably on camera and there's probably security, or police, on the way right now." Tabitha clucks her tongue as things don't turn out quite the way she wants them to with the rubix cube. "Finally, for your benefit, if you'd be for your benefit, if you'd be so kind as to get the corn-cob that says 'mutant' out of your ass for at least three minutes, I'll be happy to teleport you both out of here, to somewhere private. Like say, your place in Hell's Kitchen."
"WOMAN!" Norg doesn't wanna go back down all that easily this time. Still though, Fiona grits her teeth, closing her eyes. Though Tabitha might not be magically attuned, she has to be able to feel a certain calming energy in the immediate surrounding area, as if crashing symbols had suddenly subsided and all that remains are the night noises of crickets and owls. After a few seconds, Fiona begins to speak calmly, almost robotically. As a side effect of being inside her center, lying just seems… quite wrong. How could one sully such a place? Besides, nothing can hurt her there anyway. "It was actually pretty easy… all I had to do was ask… and I suppose going back to the apartment would be better than this… not that the police could really interrupt us if they wanted to."
Donna draws in a slow, even breath. "Thank you, Fiona," she says, rising off the girl's back, turning to fact Tabitha. "Perhaps it's best if I answer each point you've raised in turn. One. These orders are *your* orders. Not Fiona's, or mine, since last I checked I neither wear a uniform, nor answer to *you.* If your superiors have an issue, they can arrange to meet with me and deal with it like proper, civilized adults, a change which would no doubt be as pleasant as it is rare to find when you get involved. Two. We are in City Hall Park, a place known for its less than savory population after dark. A good many of those people look at us, see 'crazy person and someone who dealt with it quickly,' think 'neither of these people are to be trifled with,' and go on their merry way. Meanwhile, the third is a rat girl who apparently is quite pleased to not give less than a shit about this problem, opting instead for displaying her powers to play with a child's toy, likewise in full view of everyone. Three. It's become quite apparent that nothing will *ever* get done, so long as you're around to hinder it. THerefore, once I'm certain Fiona is well, I'll take my leave, and we'll pick this up another time, in private."
Tabitha oh-hos, "I see," she murmurs, "So you're just going to pack up your toys and go home. Alright, then. I don't give a damn what uniform you're not wearing, there are children who attend Xaviers; children like me, though most of them better looking, and there are lots of people in this world who'd like nothing better than to see them pushing up daisies just for being what they are, so I will be reporting the breach, and you can wank about my attitude all you want." She purses her lips, as she calmly clicks one complete color into one side of her cube. "Fiona is my friend, and I care about her a great deal. Which is why I'm staying out of it. All I know about demons is that there's one who's ass I'd like to kick, and I'm happy to recognize that you probably know what you're doing in this matter, and I don't. If I didn't care at all, I wouldn't be offering a teleport. And, so you know, this 'toy' is not about showing off, it's about the fact that mutant powers are not just instant godliness, thank you very much, they take thousands of hours of practice to hone and control, much like your magic does. My power is worse, since I copy other mutants, which means I need tens of thousands of hours of practice. And right now, I'm behind. I copied a nice young lady who's a telekinetic, and I'm practicing it while I've still got it. The rubix cube teaches concentration and control — and you having a shit fit in the background is actually a good exercise."
"Tabitha…" Fiona murmurs, picking herself up into a least a sitting position, while at the same time smoothing out her skirt, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to end up like that. I have to do… what I have to do." She sighs, "This whole mess is complicated. Why does everything have to be so complicated?" she asks calmly, turning towards Tabitha. She's still grounded and centered, as the magical term goes, and thus seems a bit surreal. "I'm not even trying to make enemies with people and everything just ends up with screaming and yelling. Let's not do that anymore, okay? I'm not sure what the solution is, but there must be one," she cracks her neck, blinking slightly, and the built up magic energy disippates, Fiona loosening up some as it does so. Her shoulders slump tiredly.
"It seems to me," Donna says, voice still calm and pleasant, "that you make a good many assumptions, child. Most of which have gotten you into a good deal of trouble, and I've neither the time or inclination to sort you out on them. Thus. Since the lesson is impossible to continue, clearly the wise option is to wait until it can be done." Walking to Fiona's side, she digs into her pocket with one hand, holding out her other hand for the girl to take. "Up you get, Fiona. Here. There should be enough to see your way through a good meal before you get home. I, unfortunately, have things I must finish, and like as not I'll not be back until you're asleep. Until then, I'd like you to think about why you failed the objectives I set forth, and how you could have avoided failure."
"Between the two of us," Tabitha replies, "You are the only one who has threatened to kill someone else's loved one, so respectfully, I will be retaining the moral high ground." The rat girl completes her second go with the rubix cube, and slips it back into her pocket, all without touching it with her hands. "You want to talk about assumptions? You've been assuming I was garbage since the second you saw me. 'What have you brought to my door' you said, like I was a carcass the cat dragged in. You're almost as big a bigot as my Dad, and that's a compliment among bigots, I'm sure." She looks Donna up and down, then perks an eyebrow and turns her back on the woman, facing towards Fiona instead. "Come on, I'll take you to that burger place I was talking about," she offers, almost managing to keep the strain out of her voice, but not quite. "You'll like it. I promise."
Fiona looks between Donna and Tabitha quietly. What a situation she's gotten herself into. She rubs her arm, which is now nicely bruised. "Stop it! Just… stop it! Can you both just stop bickering?" This time, Fiona doesn't lose her cool but her eyes are beginning to water. It's so difficult to control emotions with all these people yelling at each other! "Fine… we can go. I'll be home later," she nods to Donna finally, sighing.
Donna places both hands on Fiona's shoulders, taking pains to meet the younger girl's gaze. "All will be well, child. You have a good time with your friend, and we'll talk more later. Should be enough for both of you, yes?" Drawing in a deep breath, she turns to face Tabitha, clasping her hands behind her back. "Where Fiona *is* right, however, is that this needs to be sorted. Talk to your people. Set up a meeting. I'll happily give any oath I need, to ensure the safety of those children, short of joining them. As for you, personally…. yes. It seems we have a lot of talking that needs doing. Until then?" She inclines her head, squeezes Fiona's shoulder, and sets off as a smooth pace away from City Hall.
"They're not my people," Tabitha replies, albeit in a much more calm tone of voice, "It's more that I'm their people. But yes, I'll talk to them. And just so we're clear? I'm not doing it to be a pain in your ass. I mean it about those kids." She inclines her head, and perks an eyebrow. "And we can talk, and I'll do my best to be civil. Let me know whenever you're ready; Fiona's still got my number." She sighs heavily, and her shoulders slump as at least some of the tension drains out of her, while she moves to stand next to Fiona. "Alright, hold on," she murmurs, before taking Fiona's hand; and then, without a sound or a flash of light, the two girls vanish.
