Mafia!Rook - Hair/Back/Chin any combination of at least two.
(x)
(Well prior to recent events)
Her tiny feet padded down thedark hallway. In the black, the form of her shadow-rat projection was scarcelyvisible, for even the deep violet eyes could be mistaken for a trick of thenight, when one’s gaze created false visions in order to keep sane in theemptiness. Here around the corner, she smelled the warehouse office with itsfaint odors of cheap food.
Far away, in her cell at Mercy’sTemple, Sister Superior held her eyes closed and inky smoke rose from herenchanted shadow-cigarette. She needed only a glance around to tell her whoowned the place, and possibly what kind of business they engaged in. Nurturingher suspicions, she still felt confident that it didn’t belong to theCabal. They sometimes struggled to maintain property down by the docks. Onelittle peek wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Without warning, her projected sightspun erratically, and she felt a painful, clenching pressure on her tail.Someone had grabbed her. Opening her eyes in the real space, she endured thedouble-vision of the simultaneous near and the distant as she plunged thecigarette toward the ashtray, to break the bond and disperse the rat.
She landed in a cold palm and thecigarette extinguished. Yet the connection remained.
“How did–” SisterSuperior Zimina froze. From beneath the rat’s feet and belly, stickyshadow-magic glued her familiar to the palm. It sustained the incorporealcreature, like the cigarette had, and forced her to remain tied to it.
“Well, well. Who might yoube, my dear?”
Mosur. What is Mosur doing there?
“There aren’t manyproficients that use this kind of spell any more. Yet, I doubt one of theDyad’s own would intrude here.” He sounded smug.
Zimina fought to sever the link,but the magic he supplied was strong enough to trap her. The rat thrashed inhis palm. Chuckling, he drew his finger down the shadow’s head and spine,stroking her fur. In her room at the Temple, the Sister Superior felt thesensation as clear as a chilly hand down her wavy hair and rigid back. Sheshuddered, horrified.
“So let us see who sent you,you little rat.” Cupping his palms around the familiar, he slipped the stream from the other side and sped towardher. Zimina panicked, and lashed at the line to send a defiant ripple at him.It grew along the length. Smashing into the wave, he caught only a glimpse ofan austere stone wall, and a small picture frame before rolling back out.
The sudden exit from the mentalbridge startled him, and Zimina lurched the shadow-rat’s body. Her tiny teethlatched onto his finger and she bit as hard as she could. She tasted blood.With a cry, he dropped the rat and for a sickening moment, the SisterSuperior fell, loose from any safe, solid surface. She hated falling. Theground rushed up, and then–
She blinked her eyes open, andthe ancient tile floor dug into her soft shoulder and flank.
mewkeere