Epithumia found herself sitting there on the porch of her home. The old Victorian's wood creaked and moaned as she rose and glanced about confused.

A cold front had moved over her small part of Pennsylvania throughout the day and had left an inch of snow, like a sheer sheet, on her house and the yard. Her breath wafted up in front of her face as the crystalized ground glittered despite the overcast.

She looked down at her doctored arm and was brought back by a whiplash of bad premonitions, that swarmed to her attention like flies. The witch reflectively called out to the air in a panic.

"Jonathan?! Drine?!"

Because of the tainted forest, that hugged the edges of her yard and house, there was no echo. There was only silence.

The witch rushed down her porch steps, and nearly tripped on her talons as she ran around the back of the house calling their names again. Just as before, though, there was nothing.

The frosty air that was billowing around her face was thanks to her heavy and anxiety-laced breathing. She dashed back to the house and entered through the back door to quickly transform out of her harpy state, but shining through the front door's glass, which was straight down the hallway from the back, was a harsh flash that made her come to a halt.

That flash was instantly familiar, as she had just come out of one earlier.

"Jonathan? Drine?"

Epithumia threw open the front door to the two of them sitting in a heap before her as if they had been tossed on her porch like a Sunday newspaper.

Jonathan rubbed his head and hoisted himself up while Drine quickly took his place on her shoulder.

"Where the hell did he send us?" The man resentfully grated while being beckoned inside.

"This is my house" -she was swift to close the door behind them- "We must get to work at once."

Jonathan shivered a bit from the sudden cold, and the dark wood floors creaked with every step, as he entered into the parlor, that was to the left of the foyer.

The parlor had dark tones in all its décor, but despite that, it still felt warm and homey. The ceiling had an intricate dark crown moulding to frame the copper vintage ceiling tiles, and the small candle chandelier was situated there in the middle. The walls were covered, from halfway down in a burgundy red wallpaper with a small and shimmering, copper ivy vine design, and a dark wood paneling took up the lower half of the walls.

There was a brown loveseat and coffee table just in front of the bay window, that was on the left side of the room, a record player and large bookshelf were on the right side of the room, and in the middle of the wall parallel to the archway was a brown brick fireplace.

Epithumia urged Jonathan to take a seat while she got the fireplace going, and Drine left her shoulder for his perch that hung down from the ceiling, just beside the loveseat. As soon as a flame started to grow from the smoke, she reached up to a box on the mantle and pulled out a rose petal to throw in. The enchanted petal would magickally keep the fire inside the fireplace and remove the need to refuel the flame with wood.

The witch then stood and plucked a hidden white feather from behind her right ear, and slowly, all of her plumage began to retreat back into her skin, her legs regained their feet, and her clothes returned as they were. Her arm, however, still maintained its wounds but was healing up quickly. Seeing no need for the bloody throw blanket, she set it down just outside the archway in the long foyer.

"From the looks of it, that wound seems to be almost healed."

As soon as Epi had removed the blanket Jonathan had noticed the difference and could see the skin resealing itself. Upon first glance, anyone would have guessed that it had been inflicted weeks ago rather than in the last hour.

She uneasily cleared her throat and began to fiddle with her arm.

"Yes, well, I have quite a quick regenerative healing factor."

He took another mental note as she sat on the other side of the loveseat and turned to him.

"Right, well I think the first question we should ask is, what kind of magick are you most advanced in?"

A single eyebrow rose curiously on his brooding face.

"Excuse me?"

"What classification of magick do you use most often, I guess is what I meant to ask."

"No, I know what you're asking. What I'm asking is, what has given you the impression that I use magick?"

Epithumia began to feel a cold sweat on her neck as she searched her head for answers.

'Am I not supposed to know, or did he think I hadn't realized?'

She hesitated and an awkward smile naturally came to her face in not knowing what exactly should be said. Jonathan, on the other hand, also found a smile coming to his lips, but it was of a more sadistic and amused variety, as he enjoyed watching her sweat.

"Well, I mean, I've seen you use magick twice now, including what you did to Dr. Fate just a while ago."

A loud cackling laugh ripped through the quiet house and nearly sent Drine to flutter off of his perch in surprise. The doctor rose still holding his stomach and giggling, while Epithumia remained still and quite unamused. She had never seen him so openly show so much emotion before, and the sight of it certainly didn't put her at ease. If anything, she felt the knots in her stomach tighten.

"You poor naïve child."- He slowly turned to face her with a manic smile stretching to the corners of his face - "My Dear, you don't know the first thing about me, do you?"

She remained quiet, not wanting to send him into a dangerous rage, though she couldn't tell if he was mad, crazed, or truly amused.

"What you saw was not magick, it was science."

"Science?"

She couldn't believe science was behind those fits and screams of grown men.

He folded his long slender arms behind his back and slowly began to approach her.

"Yes Child, science."- Jonathan bent down, as he stood just before her, as a teacher would when catching a child writing a note in class -"I call it Fear Toxin, and I wish I could demonstrate to you what it is, but to your luck, I don't have any with me ."

She sighed and stood from the couch needing to distance herself from him, and his gaze, as she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, though she couldn't understand why. She had seen what that 'Fear Toxin' had done to others, and for him to want to use it on her, with no cause that she could think of, was something that made her feel nauseous.

"Must you really do this now? Can we not act like this anymore?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The witch turned to him with exhaustion in her eyes, and a pleading tone to her words.

"I just don't know why you constantly try to scare me, and I think that we've been through enough to look at each other as more than just strangers."

The doctor almost felt another laugh coming on and grinned despite her plea.

"Haven't you been listening? We are strangers."

"Then let's change that. I'm here to save your life, Jonathan."

"Not particularly."- his smile was gone as he could find not a shred of amusement in her white lie – "You're here to save the world, are you not? Follow your destiny, perhaps? As far as I go, I'm just one unlucky soul along for the ride."

Her face crinkled up with concern and she pierced her lip as she gently reached out to hold his arm.

"Jonathan, please believe me when I say, that I might need to save you to save everyone else, but I assure you that I view you as more a real human being than any of them."- she regrettably saw his countenance become estranged with confusion, so she quickly continued-"You have a very raw energy, Jonathan. You're not afraid to be yourself or tell others how you truly feel. It's truly refreshing."

The doctor slowly pulled his arm away and took a step back from her.