A/N: So, do you like the new cover? I didn't want to use A:EMH Amora because I'm going to use her comic character but this way I can say that they're all screenshots. Like the cover. Click on it. Worship it.
Anyway.
Amora seems to be a good candidate for a Trix sister, maybe as a backup or something; she just has smaller eyes and a bigger rack. Look at her on the cover and acknowledge I'm right.
Darcy tread the room in her socks, shoes in hand. The plan wasn't necessarily not to he heard, it was just to be in the sky by the time anyone alerted the Avengers. The already dark rooms were made darker by her magic, but she couldn't risk tampering with the security cameras for risk of JARVIS alerting his master.
She felt a prickle run down her spine, and stopped, letting purple light eclipse her eyes as purple radar flowed from either side of her head. There was someone watching her from behind. She turned around.
"Hello, Natasha." she bit her lip when the woman emerged from the darkness.
"Hello, Darcy. What are you doing up?"
"Just restless, I guess," she replied, playing with a strand of hair nervously. Natasha didn't look satisfied but nodded and turned to go. Theoretically that should have been that, but there had been a question on Darcy's mind since her memory was restored.
"If you let someone...do something to you that you didn't want to do, because you had to do something for someone else because...you needed to repay your...parents?" Ancesstresses? "Mother? For everything they had done for you?" Natasha looked confused.
"There's no debt between a parent and a child." Natasha quietly responded. Darcy nodded uneasily. "What family do you have, anyway, Darcy? It doesn't say on your file." frowning with the knowledge that she had a file, the witch reckoned it was best to tell the truth. She would find out soon enough.
"My mother and her sisters were shot when I was fifteen, and I don't know who my father was. I have two...sisters who don't know who their father was, either."
"Oh. Where are your sisters now?" her face remained neutral but Darcy detected a hint of suspicion in Natasha's voice.
"Uh...jail. Drunk driving." Darcy wished Natasha would leave her alone, and soon she turned, doing just that. With her powers returned, she floated to the opening of the ship, which Tony's AI opened for her. With that, she sat down.
Damn earth and its primitive mechanics!
However, she had been Riven Blackthorne's girlfriend for over an entire school year, and even if he hadn't really been in control of that, he did like crafts, levibikes, and cars. That, combined with the one year of Red Fountain engineering elective her junior year, she was able to coordinate liftoff.
Now what?
Unable to keep any kind of magical artifact, she would have to rely on a badly adapted spell for any hope of finding the portal. It had been given to all Cloudtower students to be able to guide themselves back to the college in case of emergency.
"Direct me back to Cloudtower." she was surprised at how quiet her voice was when she was alone. She felt the faint crackle of energy and smell of ink that meant her magic was being used, and the ship righted itself.
She traveled along for a few minutes at that pace when she was able to work the jets on the back (well, the quinjet speed up drastically, so she assumed she had). She glanced at the clock. It was twelve-fifty eight. Darcy yawned, then sat up straighter.
Witches were born psychopaths. They had no problem with lying and never felt guilt, enjoyed manipulating but not having long-term partners. If Riven hadn't been feeding her information about the pesky Alfea and Red Fountain students, he wouldn't even have lasted as long as he had.
Witches weren't the loving sort; Darcy didn't exactly love her sisters, but she did trust them, and there was a comfortable feeling between them, like an imitation of love, perhaps. Growing up with a mother, two aunts, and two cousins in one house had certainly been interesting, and Darcy often wondered what it would be like if their unknown fathers were part of their daily lives.
The ship stopped with a start at what seemed to be a hole in the sky, showing another, different night sky behind it. She glanced down; the ship was fairly low, low enough for her to read the 'welcome to Gardenia' sign below her. She pushed forward on the joystick, ridding backwards several feet, before pulling back on the joystick, rocketing into the portal.
"Oh, darkness." she cursed as pink sparkles exploded from both sided of the portal to announce her entrance into Magix. She spotted a planet a few miles away that seemed likely to have directions to Lighthaven. Rather proudly turning the joystick, Darcy then came upon the realization that she had no idea how to stop.
Crapola.
She had blinded Bloom, driven Flora to the edge of fury, made Musa cry, knocked Tecna unconscious, almost choked Stella to death, escaped Lighthaven—and now she was going to die by crashing her jet into some planet. Wonderful—
When she felt and heard the ship start impact, she screamed and wished she had put on her seatbelt. Holding tightly to the head of the seat, she was jerked forward and her hands loosened. She hit her head on the seat and fell onto the roof-which-was-now-the–floor.
Sitting up, she looked around, rubbing the back of her neck, breathing hard. "Darkness." she cursed again, trying to straighten her hair shakily. "Darkness, darkness, darkness."
But she lay on the ceiling of the craft for a long time, eyes closed and just feeling, almost thankful to be once again in the place where everything was razor sharp in her sight, where she and everyone else was hyper-aware of the magic firecrackling in the air: Magix.
Opening her eyes, she rose, eyes adjusting immediately to the darkness as wires and screens sparked and flashed. She crawled to the door and blasted it open, glaring at surprised faces, turning, and flying in the direction of civilization while ignoring shouts demanding her presence back at the craft. Flagging down a flying craft-for-hire, she directed him to Lighthaven. The trip took only a few minutes and soon they were landing on the dock of the planet.
This would be hard.
Darcy ran her fingers through her long brown hair. As her fingers touched it, it turned as golden as Stella of Solaria's, shortening itself to shoulder length. Shuddering at the color, she blinked rapidly, her eyes slowly turning green.
"Miss?"
"What?" she asked, startled when the driver turned around. "Oh. Yes?"
"Fare. The meter's still running." her eyes widened. She had no money, though she didn't really care. She ran for the doors, blasting her way through without checking if they were unlocked or not, and headed for the entrance to Lighthaven at a sprint. The driver got out and chased her, but she turned a corner and stopped to catch her breath, effectively losing him.
There! Lighthaven was apparently receiving shipments of cargo from somewhere else, because the back garage door was opened. Dashing in, her break-in-attempt was interrupted by a voice.
"Hey! You! What're you doing here?" she turned to see a worker frowning down on her. Not a guard, thank darkness, making it easy for her to blast him in the chest with a spell (that didn't have any flashes of violet light or hammering noises but you realized when you saw what it could do that one spell that can kill a man is worth three spells that go bing) and run into the building.
It was in the storage area, a door probably leading to the kitchens was somewhere around here. She used her radar spell to find it, melting it open and crashing through, hitting the maid who had been scrubbing the counter before running out and into the lobby of Lighthaven.
Turning, she walked as calmly as she could towards the hallway marked 'CELLS: DANGEROUS. RESTRICTED' and opened the doors, thanking her lucky dead-stars no one had noticed—
—and literally walked into three guards. Darcy hit her head on the sheath of a sword and the loss of concentration dissipated her weak, tiring illusion. She was running out of energy but kicked and fought, fist with fists and then with magic until all three guards were collapsed on the ground. She rose up, exhausted, and walked the rest of the way to her sisters' cell.
Using magic to blast down the door, which curled from the top inward as if it were to roll up, she looked inside and saw Icy sitting, with her back to Darcy, and Stormy sitting with her back to both of them in the opposite corner.
"Ladies." she said quietly, stepping over the melting metal. Icy leapt up, followed by Stormy.
"I told you she'd come back," whispered Icy fiercely, glaring at Stormy, whom Darcy noticed had a black eye. "Here, let me help you with that." she froze the metal, making it hard enough to stand on without getting one's shoes ruined. Stormy just stared, half-angry and half-glad.
There was something newly, devastatingly desperate in Icy's eyes. Though she had not yet experienced it, Darcy recognized it right away. Icy was twenty-two, almost twenty-three. She herself was twenty-one, and Stormy was twenty years old. "I told her you'd come back." Icy repeated, before sitting down on the ground in the manner of a young woman who has just realized that she is such, and no longer a teenager fighting with little girls.
If Icy, as the oldest, was a senior (18) when the Winx were freshmen (15) that makes her four years older then her opponents (except for Stella, who was sixteenwhen she was a freshman and only three years younger.)
Please R&R!