Author's Note: Hello there to any readers! This is a one-shot of an OC with two other PD characters. I've just been super obsessed with this show lately and I wanted to see how well I could write a scenario. Who knows, maybe it turns out to be a full story in the future. Feel free to leave comments and thoughts :)


In Victorian London there was no other talk than that of a grand poet's death, Alfred Tennyson. Anyone who didn't speak of the poet, was apparently an uneducated person. Still, there were people who simply did not have the luxury to mourn famous writers. Some, like Alma Virgil, had severe problems with mere survival.

Of course, no one would care if they saw the dark-brunette woman walking down the street in her tattered clothes and knotted hair. Her gray, torn shawl was draped over her shoulders but was barely enough to keep the wind from hurting her. Her blue eyes desperately searched for a place to go to, whether for shelter or food - she didn't care. Her stomach fiercely growled for her to consume something, anything, for it had been days since she had eaten. Alma put a hand over her stomach and lightly patted it, resigned to spend the night without a meal again. However, she started hearing a beautiful singing voice carrying over from the end of the street and suddenly things were no longer bad.

"It's not all bad..." Alma whispered to herself when she came to a stop across the theater where the beautiful singing was going on. She stood across listening with such enthusiasm her laughter would earn looks from the passing Londoners behind her. But she didn't care. Even she would never get to see what the inside looked like, Alma loved the theater and all its performers. It was the only thing that kept her alive, if she was being honest.

When the theater ended its show, Alma watched many of the customers filing out with joyful laughter and love for the show. She could only watch with a smile of her own, wondering how lovely it must have been for them to see the incredible actors and actresses. Suddenly, she felt a harsh yank from behind and promptly screamed in terror as she was pushed against a stone wall of an alley. A young man stood before her with a sinister smile on his face, his expressions telling Alma he was past drunk.

"You're quite lovely," he remarked in an almost slurred voice while his eyes trailed Alma's body.

Alma grunted as she tried pushing him away, "Get off me!"

The man laughed in her face, allowing Alma to get a whiff of his alcohol breath, "Don't bother shouting - it's not like anyone would give a bloody damn about you."

While Alma felt the words true, it didn't mean she gave up. She called for help as the man pressed himself against her, his hands trailing her sides. When Alma felt like there was truly no other thing to do, she resorted to her dark side - the very side that had cost her her family's affections.

"Get off!" she blasted him with a force of wind that knocked him to the ground almost to the street. She panted heavily as she leaned off the wall, feeling herself violently tremble. She didn't like using her powers, for they were dark and they were a sin. But she wasn't going to let anyone hurt her anymore.

The blast of power put the man on edge as he quickly jumped to his feet, "Witch!" he declared with a pointed finger. His eyes ferociously settled on hers as he charged towards her. In a second, Alma was once again pushed to the wall, this time with a hand tightly clasping her neck, "You're one of them witches!" the man gripped his hold on hers. Alma wheezed for breath and couldn't reply anymore. The man took pleasure in seeing her almost defeated, "What are you gonna do now, honey?" he teased with a wicked grin.

There came a fierce push that flung the man towards the end of the alleyway, but it had not been from Alma that time. Alma dropped to her knees and immediately coughed as her lungs fought for their air. A second later, she saw a pair of woman's shoes walk up to her.

"You will do best to leave right now," the mysterious woman ordered the man who was rising to his feet once more. Alma hadn't looked up yet as she was busy regaining her strength - the little one she had mustered over the course of the days she hadn't ate.

"Who the hell are you?" the man growled at the woman and started for her as well.

The woman, a blonde, was not at all afraid as the man came before her. Just as he meant to lay a finger on her she grabbed his neck and tightened a hold on him. Alma had looked up in time to see the blonde raise the man's feet off the ground.

"It's men like you that I despise," the blonde woman declared calmly, though her tone was laced with a darkness Alma recognized as that of a supernatural. The man, dangling his feet, was wheezing now for air, "It's men like you that I wish were dead," the blonde continued, "But it's women like me that will protect women who can't fight back," she finished her powerful words and promptly snapped the man's neck, killing him and letting him drop back to the ground.

Alma's eyes widened in horror but made no attempt to get up and run away. The blonde savior, or murderer, turned around to Alma, the darkness still evident in her dark eyes but the warm smile across her lips contrasted it. She bent down in front of Alma, gently pushing away a strand of Alma's hair from her cheek.

"You're not running away," the blonde remarked, sounding impressed.

"I don't know why..." Alma admitted quietly, only further impressing the blonde.

"What's your name?"

"...Alma. Alma Virgil."

"Well, Alma Virgil, you are dirty, you are badly clothed, and quite frankly you have an unpleasant smell," the blonde said so suddenly it left Alma blinking in surprise, "We need to get you properly changed," the blonde took Alma's hands and helped her to her feet.

"E-excuse me?" Alma managed to say but made the blonde laugh.

"You're coming back with us," the blonde reiterated but it still left Alma mildly confused. She didn't wait for Alma to make another response and just began to lead them back to the street where people were bustling about as if nothing had happened.

"But...who are you?" Alma began to question as they walked hand in hand, "Why did you save me? Why are you taking me back with you? And who's 'us'?"

The blonde took notice of the missing question, an important question - her unique strength. It just made her more sure that she was making the right choice, among other qualities she found well in Alma.

"My name's Lily," she finally answered Alma, and though there were many other questions Alma had made Lily chose to ignore them.

~ 0 ~

Though Alma was no stranger to elegant dresses and a fine room, it still made her feel unwelcomed and uncomfortable. Lily had brought her into a rich house, making statements that her lover owned the place and would be ecstatic about her presence. Alma found the house strange, especially the room full of portraits she managed to catch a glimpse of when passing by the hallway. She'd been curious to meet the owner of the house but she supposed it would be better if she was well groomed first.

After bathing, Alma faced many of the dresses Lily had laid out for her over a bed. They were all exceptionally beautiful and Alma felt like they shouldn't be placed on her.

Lily was watching from the doorway, almost wondering how the woman would react to the entirely new environment, "You're no poor girl," she concluded out loud, making Alma's head snap towards her direction. Lily walked in and went to a vanity desk where a jewelry box was, "You don't have that awed face any other poor girl would," she raised a fine necklace with her finger, intently watching Alma's reaction to it, "You're accustomed to these."

Alma cleared her throat and looked down, "Once..." she answered quietly, "...many years ago."

Lily assumed that much and grabbed the bright red ruby necklace, "And what happened that had you in such a state?"

Alma swallowed hard as she debated how to answer. She decided Lily at least deserved to know what happened since she rescued her and brought her in, "My family wanted to...marry me off," she began, "But this man...he was awful. He was violent and only wanted to increase his wealth. One day, before we were to marry, he started hitting me...and I couldn't take it anymore so..."

Lily's eyes trailed to Alma's hands as they balled into fists, "You showed them who you really were," she finished what Alma couldn't and felt even more pleased with herself for bringing Alma in. Alma hid her hands behind her back, alarmed at the assumption. Lily merely chuckled and went towards her, "There's no need to hide what you are from me, darling."

"It's a sin," Alma whispered what she'd told herself for many years. Her powers were witch-craft, almost demonic. She shouldn't flaunt them around.

Lily's eyes narrowed, "And who told you that?"

Alma's eyes met hers and for once felt scared of the blonde, "Everyone who would know about it. My parents threw me out of the house when I revealed my powers. They called me a child of Satan. These powers are a curse - they are a sin that I must bear."

Lily took hold of Alma's chin and wickedly smiled, "And why should a sin be bad? Why should you carry it like a burden?" she let go and placed the ruby necklace around Alma's neck, looking pleased with its look, "We women are exceptional, Alma. You're no different."

Alma looked doubtful of those words, "But..."

"Sh," Lily raised a finger and backtracked to the vanity desk where she returned the necklace, "You should wear this," she tapped one of its stone, "It looks pretty on you."

Alma watched the woman head for the doors and panicked, "Where are you going?"

Lily stopped and glanced back, "To see about dinner. Come downstairs when you're ready. Dorian will be pleased to meet you as was I."

When Lily was gone, Alma turned back to the selection of dresses on the bed. Lily's words ran through her mind as she decided what to wear. It wasn't every day she met someone who could possibly understand what her world was like. And even though Lily hadn't addressed it, Alma was sure the woman was of another supernatural event as was this Dorian person.

~ 0 ~

A laced midnight blue dress had been Alma's choice of evening attire in the end. Her dark brunette hair now hung freely in its curls, reaching midway her arms. She came down the staircase nervously trying to control her breathing pattern. She could hear the clinks of glasses and chatter among Lily and Dorian. She licked her lips and straightened up, aiming to make her best impression on the two as her refined old self.

"I cannot believe you left me back there," Dorian Gray was in the middle of scolding Lily in the dining room. Though mildly irritated with her, his voice was not laced with actual anger, "I thought you said you loved theater."

Lily, who sat across their round table calmly drank her red wine, "I got bored after a while of mingling with those awful friends of yours," she replied a minute later.

"So you just left," Dorian frowned.

"Exactly," Lily gave a broad smile in response before noticing Alma standing at the threshold, "Ah, my friend," she rose to her feet, "You didn't choose the necklace," she firstly observed Alma bearing a black necklace instead.

Alma sheepishly came into the room and put a hand over her necklace, "I decided this one fit better."

"You decided right," Lily looked down at Dorian who remained in his seat, silently observing the guest Lily had mentioned to him earlier, "This is her - this is Alma."

"Evening," Alma addressed him with a courteous bow, unsure of how else to speak to the man. She was mostly flustered with his intense gaze as the man was incredibly handsome. His hazel - almost borderline green - eyes seemed to bore into her every feature as she approached the table.

Lily motioned for Alma to take a seat across their table, "Now there's a reason I didn't come back to the theater," she said to Dorian as she sat back down again.

"I may be inclined to forgive you, then," Dorian said back, almost dismissing her for a minute as he continued to look at Alma.

Alma looked at both with a nervous smile, "Thank you for your hospitality. It's not everyday you meet good people."

Lily laughed and startled her, "You clearly have a lot to learn about us my dear. We're like you - the sinners, if you please," Alma's smile faded as she listened in more, "Now I know you're smart and so you have figured out I am not your typical type of woman."

"It's possible," Alma cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Then let's not act like you haven't," Lily stated and glanced at Dorian, somewhat serious, "She's no normal human out there."

"Immortal?" Dorian asked, his eyes flickering to Lily.

"No, but she has exquisite power," Lily replied as if it made up for the lack of the other, "But she's afraid of it."

Intrigued, Dorian set eyes on Alma again, "Why the fear?"

Alma hesitated to answer but nonetheless did, "As I have told Lily, my powers have been nothing but a burden since they appeared. They are of Satan's world and have caused me trouble. It is a sin because it is wrong."

Dorian glanced at Lily and gave a look of understanding. He then leaned forwards on the table and showed a smile for Alma, "If it's a sin why is it what makes you...you?"

"I...I don't understand..."

"Of course you do," Dorian continued on, "Because every since you acquired them you changed. You feel stronger now and you should because no one else is like you."

"Is that how you feel when you're out there, then?" Alma found herself asking before she could realize.

The question put a smirk on Dorian's face, "Perhaps."

Alma looked to the side and huffed, "Well maybe it would be different if you were in my condition; I'm homeless, got no money nor means to eat. How do I feel strong if I am the lowest of society?"

"You would use your powers," Lily answered with an air of annoyance, "How else do you expect to get better? Our abilities, our strength, is not a sin Alma. They are our means for a better life. A better life that would fill you with happiness. The only thing you must do is stop acting like this sinful power is your burden."

"How do you do that?" Alma inquired curiously.

Dorian grabbed his own wine glass and raised it with a smirk, "You make that sinful power into your greatest weapon."

Alma looked down at the plate before her, consisting of delicious dinner she had dreamed of for so long. She didn't want to feel weak anymore, not when she clearly had a power that could make her so strong. Dorian and Lily sure used what they had to make themselves better lives, why couldn't she? Why should she be at the lowest of society simply because the others couldn't understand what her powers were?

Suddenly determined, Alma snatched the wine glass set for her and held it to the pair across her, meaning for them to serve her wine, "Then teach me," she told them, "Teach me how to turn my sin into my greatest weapon."

As Dorian and Lily exchanged pleased looks, Alma thought about what delicious future awaited her at Dorian's and Lily's side. She craved nothing less.