Maka tightened her grip on the smooth handle of her scythe. The jagged red and black pattern on the sharp, curved blade flashed a bright blue, and for a moment, the top half of a boy with wild white hair and brilliant red eyes regarded the scene. Somberly, he crossed his arms over his bare chest and scowled. Maka sent a swift glance towards his image, and then refocused on the matter at hand. Two other boys prowled around her vision, both in stark contrast to each other and the boy in the blade. One was armed with a pair of "desert eagle" twin pistols, and the other with a long, glittering chain scythe. A lone figure stood in the center of the three meisters, with a dark cloak covering the face and a long dress swirling to the floor. A hissing chuckle echoed from her, bouncing around the ware house. At the sound, Maka shuddered. Slowly, she lowered her vision into Soul Perception, a unique ability she possessed that allowed her to see a person's soul. And this soul, Maka decided, was one with a honking amount of power. Matching her soul's wavelength carefully with her first her partner and then the pairs around her, she sent out a message. Be careful of this one. It's full to the brim with brand new power and energy, and there's a bucket load of sadistic evil just waiting to be thrown at us. If we make a mistake and let her cast a spell, we are all doomed. The two boys across the room nodded slightly, acknowledging her statement, and then carefully, oh, so carefully, began to creep towards their prey. Silent resolve fluttered in the air, and determined glares fused with hatred were focused on the dark form. The message was clear.
The witch was not going to see the sunrise tomorrow morning. That was a pleasure reserved only for this pack of partners.
Soul
Through her gloves, I could feel Maka's blood pound. She was terrified, I could tell, but only because she was focusing too hard on the witch, not bothering to hide her feelings from me, and because I had known her the longest out of all of us. I bet I was the only one able to look into those green eyes of hers and be able to get more than just a glimmer of what she was really feeling. She tightened her grip and leaned in, her feet searching for solid ground. I extended my wavelength to hers, trying to give her as much strength and courage as I could, and in return, I saw her mouth quirk up to the side. Then her muscles tensed, like a mountain cat preparing to leap, and she bounded towards the witch. Satisfaction radiated through my pores when she landed a blow on the woman, crimson blood spraying her dark cloak with a new color. This witch was so going down tonight.
How uncool of her, but how very cool of us.