𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒔.
Maev Barebone never meant to get entangled with humans and their (seemingly) silly fights, but when her neighbor-turned-friend in Bucharest is arrested for a crime he didn't comm...
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the witch and the assassin
MAEV BAREBONE TIPPED her head back, pieces of her hair sticking to her glistening skin, and parted her lips, letting the liquid fire cascade down her throat. The witch slammed the shot glass down, her eyes alight with feverous intent.
She wasn't one to normally drink but today had been, simply put, fucking terrible, and so she found herself sitting on a lopsided chair in a bar in a questionable location. But, to be fair, most places on this side of the town were pretty questionable, including the apartment building where she lived.
Maev stared at the inch of grime covering the table, eyes slowly unfocusing. This was her twelfth shot, but human alcohol was weaker than what she'd had before, so the only sign of intoxication was the softening of her thoughts and the gentle humming of her blood as it worked to erase the alcohol from her system. She raised her index finger lazily and the bartender—a middle-aged woman who'd been serving her all night —walked over, leaning against the counter.
"More shots?"
Maev shook her head, "I want something stronger, in fact... give me your strongest drink."
The woman gazed at her for a moment with narrowed eyes, no doubt wondering if Maev still had enough money to cover the tab she'd wracked up so far. "You sure? You've already downed a lot of alcohol."
Humans, they love to act sympathetic and yet, they're all so hungry for the same things.
Maev took out her wallet and placed a small stack of bills on the table, more than enough to cover the cheap alcohol she'd already consumed. The bartender walked off and Maev drummed her fingers on the counter, watching the woman mix her drink, the bright colors clashing together.
The bartender set the drink down, took the bills on the table and sauntered off, most likely seeing what she could take for a tip.
Once the bartender's back was turned, Maev brought her thumb up to her mouth and pricked it on her abnormally sharp canine tooth, letting a single drop of blood fall into the drink. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her sunglasses, putting them on, and stared at her drink, feeling her eyes start to burn as she whispered a few specific words under her breath.
It wasn't a difficult spell by any means, all she was doing was heightening the alcohol content to a level where she'd feel it affect her for once, but Maev found that she was having trouble concentrating due to the numerous thoughts circulating her head.
As a Blood Witch, and a very good one at that, she could heal wounds with a snap of her fingers and ease the conscious by altering the path of one's blood flow. Which was why once she'd turned eighteen she'd left her home and sisters behind, deciding to go wherever her blood drew her to, knowing that she was genetically created to help those in need.
