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ʙᴀʀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ

Last Login:
November 30th, 2020

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Gender: Female
Status: Single
Age: 20
Country: United States

Signup Date:
March 02, 2020


10/27/2020 05:28 PM 


//AU Hayley Marshall; drabble featuring Davina Claire mentions Jackson Kenner//

One can never quite appreciate the meaning of ‘Blitzkrieg’ until you are abruptly shaken awake at 2:25AM by the shockwave of an explosion. The red flickering ghosts of flames on the walls make for bad company, but they sure wake Hayley up quick.
For Hayley, it took less than three seconds to rise out of a regrettably fantastic dream featuring Jackson and an obscene amount of whipped cream in order to jump out of bed with a vicious curse. Although she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a bralette, she switched into battle mode immediately and gathered her wits, figuring what to do with the scene around her, assessing the damage and danger. Raging fire, cracked walls most likely rendering her home unstable. Outside she could hear voices.  Hayley padded over to where the woods and the cool darkness beckoned beyond glass panes. Sneaking a peek through the curtain that hadn’t yet caught ablaze had revealed a number of women who stood in a loose circle, all of them featuring prominent jewelry somewhere on their bodies. Occult symbols hanging from them.
Hayley grumbled sarcastically and ruffled her hair in frustration and, honestly, in confusion. She wasn't aware that she or anyone else in the pack had pissed off any witches recently. Which of course begged the question who the fvck was burning down her house with her inside?
The wooden floorboards were becoming warmer beneath her bare feet. Time to go! And, preferably without being seen by the herd of Harry Potters outside. Hayley had no illusions regarding her prowess despite being a hybrid: if it came down to an open fight between her and a full-fledged coven, she'd be roasted.
Making haste she opened the bedroom door, which allowed thick grey smoke to creep in like snatching fingers. Her sense of smell was assaulted with the aroma of burning lacquer and plastic. Her sight was low, barely able to see five feet in front of her even with her amplified sense of sight. She was blinded.
She krept through the burning rooms, avoiding witnesses like a burglar in her own home. Nonetheless, a distinctly female shape awaited her behind the curtain that obscured the window to the back porch. Suddenly the glass cracked open and shattered all over the floor, smoke billowing through the curtain as Davina Claire yanked the fabric away and took her friend by the arm, dragging her out the back with a quick makeshift cloaking spell for the two of them.


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