GF ZEPHYRA
  Sofia turns the younger womanâs words around in her mind. Sheâs not as quick-witted as some others, able to dissect and glean meaning from a sentence and snap a retort back just as quickly; words were never her weapons, after all. Does she know what the Reapers - what Tanya Orlova, specifically - want? That question gives her pause. She knows little of Reaper politics, of the power plays within their rivals; if itâs anything like with the Scarlet Angels, then perhaps Sofia wouldnât be wrong to assume that discord and unrest lies within their ranks just like within hers. âPower,â she answers, keeping her voice steady even as the gears in her mind turn. âIsnât that what this all boils down to, at the end of the day? The question that remains now is: yours, mine, or ours?â
  Their paralleled echo of footsteps sets Sofia at ease. When they enter the warehouse, she bends down to fetch the pair of gloves sheâd left from the previous week, discarding her woolen ones for their leather counterpart, more suited to combat. The candidates before them - contenders, as Sofia likes to call them - stand at attention, only too ready to please their leaders. Watching Tanya in action is mesmerizing, her effect instantaneous on what Sofia had considered to be one of her best fighters. They gasp and heave upon the floor, pupils wide even in the dim light of the warehouse. Sofia turns her eyes to the others, who look at Sofia and Tanya in terror. âGuard your minds, and always be prepared,â she says, to their assembled pupils. âBecause I can assure you - you donât want to be on the other side of her bite.â To Tanya, she says, âLetâs show them how itâs done.â Sofia nods, stands with squared shoulders and a look of grim and heated determination on her face as she turned to fully face the other woman. âDo your worst.â I can take it.
This is personal, not just a concept, an idea shared between enemies. Tanya felt certain this would be the next big thing -- the pit certainly served as a way to gather information and pick out possible candidates for her empire. Sofia would be one of them, sooner or later. Her powers were essential, her temper and ambition a perfect addition to everything theyâd hoped to create. While watching the other woman carefully Tanya realized how vital acting had become, rather than watching everything go to waste. Sheâd set the Orlova plans in motion, no matter the cost, the casualties. âOurs,â she answered truthfully, âI might be a cold-hearted bitch, but Iâm not going to backstab a dear girlfriend,â Tanya smirked at the other woman below, who watched all others squirm due to Tanyaâs powers. Illusions were effective, but technically easy to counter. They all relied on being believable, on her victims opening their minds enough for her to slither into. Sure, closing off ones mind wasnât easy nor had she ever seen such a thing, but Tanya knew, one day, she would find someone capable enough. Which is why the training never stopped, the lessons never ended.Â
Thereâs a pause once Sofia encouraged her to do her worst. She wouldnât want her newfound ally so soon, then again she didnât want to harmed, either. Circling the other woman, Tanya began to environ herself in a thick mist, shielding herself. Touching the mist would result in burns, or so theyâd think. She couldnât hide her location, so she opted to change everyoneâs perception a little bit, play with colors, noises, visual effects. Tanya pulled her hair tighter into a ponytail, trying to provoke Sofia. It was a tactic to distract while the illusion began to slither its way towards her with the intention to cloud Sofia in darkness and an illusion of madness -- a different version from her motherâs abilities, changed and tweaked to fit her illusions. âLetâs just hope you guys have some talented medics,â Tanya smirked, âif you really wanna go hard.â












