Event Private Winter Weather Worries Weekday Witches

Sunday

Sunday was by Saturday's side in an instant, once she had gotten sight of what was going on. As Tuesday took on one side, Sunday took the other, trying to help the man to their escape route. She glanced at the image that their ritual had conjured, taking quick note of it before moving on. There were more pressing things in that moment.

They had gotten what they were looking for. They didn't have a name or a location, but they had a face, and with the terror breathing down their necks, that was about as good as they could ask for. Wednesday didn't want to push her luck, so as the others dragged Saturday onto the teleport symbol, she stepped off from her position, tapped the symbol to activate it, and moved to join them.

Digging her hand into her coat, she pulled out her dagger, clutching it in her fist as the ground underneath them began to glow. She reached her arm out to the circle of glyphs that she had been standing on, the ones helping to power the ritual, and slashed her blade through it.

As the power of the ritual began to fade away, there was a sudden bright flash, and assuming nothing stopped them, the Witches were all teleported away back to her home.

There was nothing to see as the barrier went down. In fact there was nothing to hear, either. But the sheer presence, the howling fury and insanity of the invisible thing that slammed into the ground was as heavy as a sound. Like a ship's horn right in your face, but pitched too high and echoing into itself forever.

Before the teleportation circle finished its work, any of the witches might have noticed the directional fires all pitching heavily in a direction. Westward, towards the school, more forest, and the Islets.

And then they were in Wednesday's home. Exhausted. Drained. Mildly to moderately injured. Bleeding on her floor. But safe. Save for Saturday, who could feel in his bones that if he went outside right now, the Terror would find him almost immediately.

Saturday was ashamed two younger women had to help him over to the teleportation rune. He was the oldest, he was supposed to be able to carry both his and the others' burdens. But he really did need assistance, so he just tried to make their work as easy as possible and supported himself as well as he could.

The teleportation worked, thank gods, and the group was safely teleported to Wednesday's room. Saturday collapsed on the floor on his knees. He could feel in his very being that the horror still remained, and he grimaced a bit and lightly hit the floor with his fist. After decades on peace it had finally found him.
Well, suppose this was karma. And at least now the horror wasn't after the other members of his clan.

Saturday saw Cami's efforts to tie the wound, and moved closer, and if Cami allowed him he'd start tying Tuesday's hand in bandages.
"I will inform these findings to the authorities as soon as I can."

Wednesday's grip tightened on her knife as the barrier fell, her cat crouched next to her and hissed, its hairs standing on edge. Being the only witch not occupied with carrying Saturday, she noticed the way the flames suddenly shifted, the direction they seemed to indicate. But with the terror bearing down on them she didn’t have any time to think about it.

And then the spell finally activated, and they were all in the familiar surroundings of Wednesday's apartment.

She fell to her knees almost immediately. Teleportation already took a lot out of her, but with the distance they had to travel, from the forest to the city, and with all the other witches and their familiars coming with her, she was barely able to stay conscious. She crawled over to the nearest wall and rested her back against it, head leaned back, breathing heavily.

“Well…” she said between deep breaths. “We got…a face…and a direction…that could have been worse…”

Normally, she might have been more frustrated by the lack of information, especially with the risk they just took. There could be plenty of people who matched that description, and west covered a whole lot of ground. But at the moment the fact they had avoided death weighed more in her mind.

“Maybe you guys should…stay here for the night…I think we can worry about what we found tomorrow...since, y'know, nearly just died...”

Sunday

Compared to the others, Sunday supposed that she was fine. She wasn't bleeding, she wasn't being hunted by her terror. She simply was tired and frustrated by her helplessness. "I think I should reconsider my overwhelming and probably crippling specialty in artificing," she mused out loud. "If anybody has any suggestions, I am open to them."