Chapter #75The Witches of Westside by: imaj   “The Witches of Westside,” you say after a moments thought.
Frank frowns unhappily at you, but Joe’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “What can I say,” Joe says smugly. “It’s got alliterative appeal. So, so, so…” he hops up and down excitedly on the spot. “When are you going to switch with Morgana.”
You grin right back at him. “I’m not,” you say, trying to ignore the smile that breaks out on Frank’s face. “You are.”
“Because the sooner the… wait, what,” says Joe, his face suddenly crestfallen. He looks at you as if you have just kicked his puppy. “I’m going to be Morgana? What about you?”
“Morgana pretends that she’s a witch,” says Chelsea thoughtfully. “But she’s not like the kind of person that’s the head of a clique. She’s well… you know… fat.” You gape at Chelsea for a second, almost impressed at the way she uses her cattiness. “What,” she asks when she see you staring at her.
“Great so I get stuck with the fat girl,” moans Joe.
“She’s not the fat girl,” counters Chelsea. “She’s only a bit dumpy and plain.” Beside you, Frank makes a terrible job of turning a laugh into a cough. From the look on Joe’s face, it’s probably on purpose.
“Can’t we like give her a makeover or something,” complains Joe. “It works so well in the movies.” Frank only laughs again.
“Actually…” you begin.
“What,” says Joe quickly.
“Well, it must be possible,” you explain. “When you put two faces in a mask before sealing it, it kind of mixes them up.”
“I don’t see how that’s useful,” states Frank.
“Well it means that it must be possible to edit the imago in a mask,” you explain. Joe nods in agreement. “So we get Morgana’s imago in a mask first. I work out how to tweak it and we change it a little, so when Joe becomes Morgana, he becomes a better Morgana. What do you think Chelsea? What would you change?”
The golem cocks her head to the side. “Maybe take a little weight off her thighs, trim her tummy. Firm up her boobies a little too maybe. Raise her cheekbones a bit and trim her nose,” she offers after a moment or two of thinking. “You could pass it off as, I don’t know, a really good makeover and diet. Oh, this is going to be amazing,” she gushes.
“If I give you a blank mask Chelsea, could you get us a copy of Morgana’s imago to work with,” you ask.
“Please,” she says with a wide smile. “It’s me. Of course I can.”
“Frank, get her a blank,” you instruct.
“What about you,” asks Joe as Frank leads Chelsea away. “If I’m going to be Morgana, who are you going to be?” He watches Frank take Chelsea into the little library you’ve set up in one corner of the ballroom. “Or Frank for that matter, and what about the spare essentia we have.”
“Whoa, one question at a time dude,” you say, holding up your hands. “I thought I’d make someone new to be myself. You know, new girls arrives at school and forms a coven. With you as Morgana and Frank as… I’m not sure.”
“Three would be a coven,” says Joe. “Traditionally speaking, anyway.”
You both stand in silence for a moment. “But we have two spare sets of essentia,” you find yourself saying. An idea is slowly forming in your head, and from the look on Joe’s face it’s forming there too. You don’t want to be the one that says it.
“We could,” he says slowly, and you suspect he doesn’t want to be the one that says it either. “Double up. You’ve already shown that it works.”
There it is, laid out in full: The Witches of Westside, three young women, each with twice the power of a Stellae. And now that it has been said, you find it hard to argue.
“What do we have left,” you say thickly. You already know the answer.
“Perelandra and Catilindria, from Aparijita,” says Joe flatly, as if he is reading the lines from somewhere. “Malacandra and Sulva. I’d have to take Malacandra, since Frank has that already.” That finally breaks the spell. Joe breaks out into another massive grin. “Oh man, Viritrilbia and Arbol and Malacandra and Sulva. This is going to be sweet.” He actually starts laughing. “But not as funny as when Frank gets a little Catilindria in him.”
“We can start tonight,” you grin back.
*****
“Will you stop that,” complains Frank.
Joe ignores his brother. He just opens and closes his hand, summoning and releasing the sigil for Sulva in his palm. The silvery shape glows for a few seconds before Joe extinguishes it, then repeats the process with Malacandra. Then again with Sulva. Malacandra, Sulva. Malacandra, Sulva.
“I can’t help myself…” he says.
“You never can,” mutter Frank under his breath.
“…New ousiarchs, new prodigies. I wonder what they’re gonna be,” continues Joe. “Aren’t you excited to have Perelandra and Catilindria in there with you too? Does Perelandra make you feel pretty,” he teases.
“I know better than to play with it,” scowls Frank. “Besides, you’re distracting Prescott.”
“Would you rather I play with something else,” Joe shoots back.
Not that it matters, since you have your eye’s closed, but you’d really rather not have Joe playing with something else. He’s been standing around naked for the past hour or so – it’s necessary for what you are doing of course, but you prefer not to catch an eyeful.
Instead you focus on the image you are holding in your mind. It’s naked too, but its also a lot more pleasing to look at than Joe. Or at least it’s a lot more pleasing to look at now. Working out how to edit imago turned out to be a cinch, and you’ve been using your newly created spell since Chelsea arrived about an hour or so ago. True to her word, she went home last night with the blank mask Frank gave her and arrived this afternoon with Morgana’s imago copied into it.
You make another tweak to the copy. It’s almost like make a character for a video game, except rather than having a handful of sliders and options, you have thousands, maybe even millions. It isn’t always clear what each one does, but you’ve managed to slowly change Morgana. She’s still recognisable as herself, but what you see in your mind is a big improvement. You spin the image round one last time to check that you are happy with your changes.
You open your eyes. On the floor in front of you is the Libra, on it the mask holding Morgana’s imago and inside the mask one of the voodoo doll golem. You pick up the mask and stand up. “Try it now Joe,” you say.
You keep your eyes firmly fixed on Joe’s face as he walks over. He leans on you for support as he puts the mask on. You have to support him for a minute, but within seconds you are looking at the improved Morgana.
“Tada,” says Joe. “What do you think?”
Chelsea comes over and walks slowly round Joe. “I think you’ve got it now Will,” she says, placing one hand idly on Joe’s thigh. “I really like what you’ve done with her face. It makes her look, uh… weird, but in a good way.”
You nod, you understand what Chelsea means, even if she can’t express it in words. “Ethereal,” says Joe, grabbing a compact mirror from Chelsea and admiring himself. “Other worldly, those are the words you’re looking for Chelsea.” He turns his head this way and that, picking at his hair with is fuller bodied and more lustrous than the real Morgana’s drab style. “Yes, I like this.”
“Mmm, I do too,” concurs Chelsea. Her hand lingers on Joe’s Morgana-thigh for just a second more. “You’re really good at this Will,” she adds encouragingly.
“Actually, I was practicing all day,” you reply. “I’ll show you.” You stride over to the make shift library. A minute later you return to Joe and Chelsea with two masks in your hands. “Try this one,” you say, handing a mask to Joe. He’s already removed the improved Morgana mask.
Chelsea gasps as Joe puts on the mask. “She’s gorgeous,” she mumbles.
“Wait, let me see,” says Joe hurriedly. He grabs the mirror from Chelsea again. He stares at himself with his mouth hanging open. “This is who you are going to be? So unfair… She looks familiar though.”
You look at the girl you’ve turned Joe into. Chelsea’s assessment is not wrong. The girl is slender to the point of being willowy, but you’ve enhanced her curves just enough to attract attention. Her breasts are perhaps just the wrong side of natural for someone with such a thin frame, but are still smallish and perky. Her complexion is perfect, her porcelain skin is flawless. Tresses of hair the colour of midnight cascade down to her shoulders. Vivid green eyes peer out from an elfin face.
“She looks a little like that girl from Cuthbert,” says Frank.
“Yeah, I started with Rosalie,” you admit. “Then I made some improvements.”
“A lot of improvements,” interrupts Joe. “Wow, I’m jealous here. But… no memories yet?”
“No, I was hoping Chelsea would help me pick out some people to use to make a personality. I’m going to need the right memories and skills to be able to run that body. Especially if I’m going to be head witch.”
Chelsea beams at you. “I can think of some people.” She hugs you and whispers conspiratorially in your ear. “Do you want to be a little bit bitchy or a lot bitchy,” she asks before breaking into a fit of giggles.
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