Netta's first reaction to the kitchen area was to gape at the sheer amount of knick-knackery that had happened since she had last been there.

She knew that Calliope understood full well to keep most of her obsession with the porcelain and painted ware mostly away from where she conducted her business, but Netta had not prepared herself for what she would see of it in her personal area.

Rows upon rows of it - a good deal magically held up - seemed to line the walls.  It was hard, also, to not catch a general theme. Porcelain Swedish children, looking bashful in different poses. 

All deathly pale, with the exception of their rosy cheeks and lips.

Ash, who had bent so that It leaned next to her, said, "Unlimited cosmic power - and such an intriguing way to spend it all."

Ignoring Ash, Netta found herself turning, looking at an ugly painting.  It took her a moment to recognize it, back when Calliope had first opened the store.  An odd scene to see in the desert, the painting looked very much like one of those mass-produced, halcyon works of a rolling green pasture and a fantastically red barn in the near-distance.

The only thing that seemed to draw her attention was a man - what an odd, out of place man to be in such a painting - waving from the top window of the barn.

Funny, had that character always been there?

So fixated was Netta on it at first that she missed what the older woman had asked her.  "I'm sorry," Netta stuttered, turning as she settled down to the card table that must have lived in Calliope's quarters since the seventies, "can you repeat yourself?"

Calliope blinked and asked, "Your companion - she's not terribly cold out there, I hope?"

Netta shook her head, and had to bite the inside of her cheek. She also had to fight the sudden urge to look over to the creature who stood in the corner of the room like a malevolent shadow.

"Ah, he'll be fine. He's got a great way to regulate his internal body temperature, if I don't say myself."

When Calliope's eyes went wide with some sort of an understanding, Netta hurried to correct herself. "Ah, I don't know from any sort of a personal experience, it's just that - he does great in the cold." Netta laughed and it was a little too exaggerated.

Thankfully, Calliope seemed to have become focused on working on making tea.

As she worked, Netta shook off her coat and relaxed back into one of the brown padded chairs surrounding the card table.   She stared, blearily, at the two figurines who got predominate placement in the center of the small enough table. A boy, eyes closed, leaning forward for a kiss and a girl leaning away, her eyes closed serenely.

How inopportune a time for her overtired mind to cruelly insert mental imagery of touching, kissing the creature who had been torturing her for the last few days...  She was too tired to stop it from entering her mind, and she felt as though she loathed Ashwood all the more for it.

"Well, if you're certain that he can handle the cold..." Calliope paused, filling a tiny pitcher with cream and pulling her cut-glass sugar bowl out of the cabinet. Still turned away from Netta, she asked, "I take it that you've been dealing with those Human gentlemen callers that seem to find Witches irresistible?"

Netta wanted to call the woman out on her bullshit. Calliope was under the distinct impression that there did not exist a human who was not obtuse enough to sense magic, somehow, and not a man who was not in some way drawn to it.

Netta knew, however, that in spite of how eccentric Calliope seemed now as an older woman, she had seen pictures of the woman in a much younger body.   She knew that the Witch's beauty had been able to rival even her older sister, Sia, in her own heyday. Magic, it was said, was so much stronger only a century ago. It was no large thing to regulate age and physique for a Witch, as much as immortality had once been a sure thing.

And even just a little before the time Netta had been born, Monsters had been stronger creatures.  And thus functioned far better in their primary role, of parasitic beings who exchanged their very lives - their magic - in order to be of use to their Master.  

But, then again, a stronger Monster would have meant that they would have been far more dangerous, even to the Witch they were bound to.  And could have much more easily taken horrific possession of their Master's body.

 Netta blurted out, realizing at the last moment that she had forgotten someone, "Uh, I am seeing someone - he's out in the car right now, actually. His name's Wallace."

Ash laughed, a cruel sound. "Not for long, and no, he is not."

Unable to see or hear the Monster, Calliope said, "Well, while I am glad that you brought some bed warmth along with you, I suppose that it's good that you came in here alone. You'll probably want to send young and pretty back to the city where he belongs. I mean, I know that you have that whole "sharing the love" thing solidly in your taboos." She waved at Netta loosely.

Calliope handed her her tea, and Netta wrapped her cold hands around the mug.  She looked up into the older Witch's eyes, watched her as she settled in the chair opposite hers. She gave the older woman a trepidatious smile that felt like it was going to fall off of her face at any moment.

"Any particular reason that you seem to be suggesting I go and consummate with a Monster? I mean, that is what you are getting to, right?" The sick pit in the center of Netta's stomach felt like it was about to swallow her at any moment.

Calliope took her reading glasses from off of the sharp edge of her nose, allowing them to hang off of the chain around her neck.   She stared deeply into Netta's eyes, then spoke. "Have you gone up Home yet?"

Netta was annoyed, deeply, with the woman's willful rounding off of the important aspects of conversation.  "No."

Calliope motioned loosely in the air for a moment, looking away, perhaps hunting for a good word to use. She seemed to give up, dropping her hand with a sigh. "Netta, everyone's fallen off of the radar. You're the only one that I could account for after about a month of doing everything that I have in my wheelhouse to find - someone. Anyone. It's as though a fog is covering their whereabouts and I can't see through it."

Calliope stared blindly forward, a forlorn expression on her face before she turned to look at Netta. "My dear," she said, clearly steeling herself for what she needed to say next. "I do believe that your Sisters are in some terrible sort of danger and they need help. You need to find them and discover the cause of what has been happening."

Netta had been staring too long at Calliope, and her brain seemed to not want to work in the least.   Finally, Calliope leaned forward and rested a hand on one of Netta's.  "Did you hear me? Can you understand it?"

Netta pressed a hand to her forehead and took in a deep breath. "I think even if I was fully awake, I'd still have some difficulty understanding what you're saying."  FInally, though, Netta sighed and took a sip of the tea. She was startled, at first, when she felt the surge of magical power starting at her mouth and then spread through her body.

She remembered that Calliope, like most Witches who did not have their own Monsters, made use of food and drinks that were infused with other Witches' magic. Weak though it was, without the added benefit of a Monster to channel it through, magic it nevertheless was.

Being another Witch who also had no Familiar, Calliope would have to rely on other's magics to work.   How long had it been for Netta, since she had last felt, tasted magic like a normal Witch?

Netta gulped that sip down then took a long drag at the cup. She hoped that shaking the thick layer of fuzz that had accumulated in her mind would make what Calliope said make sense.

Calliope said, "We'll have to pick this conversation up at a later date. You seem as though you've worn thin under the weight of exhaustion."

When Netta made some half-hearted attempts at arguing with her, Calliope interrupted her, saying, "I think that a good night of rest would help in clearing your head, dear. I figure that you can spend one last night with that boy that you've brought - I can secure a room for you at the Stop n' Sleep. In the morning, you can bid him adieu."

Netta ignored the tell-tale snicker originating from the creature that only she could see.

Netta took another drag at the cup of tea before she looked Calliope in the eyes.   She took a deep breath and said, "I came to see what you needed. I - I have to be frank with you, Callie, I am not much of a Witch. It's just like Hera always said.  If I ever was one, then it's long gone out of me by now." she shrugged and tried to make it seem as nonchalant as she could manage, when in reality she was close to shaking. "I think that you would be better off with this sort of thing-"

Calliope laughed hysterically. "Dear girl, have you forgotten who you're speaking to?"

Netta's brains, rankled as they were, took a moment to understand what she was getting at before the woman answered her own question.

"The contract I had with Jaste a good long time ago. If I wanted to do this myself, I would need to make a contract with a Monster and hope that a particularly strong one would be willing to shack up with me." Calliope shook her head, chuckling.

"My dear, I am no spring chicken. No one of any substance would have an old lady for his Master. Also, and this is for future reference," Calliope got up and started to fuss with some dirty dishes in her sink, rolling up the sleeves and turning the hot tap in her tiny sink on. "never leave a compact with a Familiar without taking your power back. There is nothing like the potent magic that you share with a Familiar, and once it's gone with the fleeing bastard, then there's not much more than old, broken flowers that you can offer another."

She turned around to look meaningfully at Netta, a drooping strand of curly graying brown hair that had escaped her loose bun hanging over her glasses. "And trust me - people want good, virile, fresh flowers. Tell me, dear, do you have any idea where you can start in finding a good companion?"

In case Netta had forgotten that Ash was in the room, the Monster walked up to the table and began to wave Its hand wildly in front of her.  "Hel-lo? Virile flower here!"

Netta thrust a hand through her hair. There could not have been anything that Calliope could have said that would have been more troublesome, where Ash was concerned.  The only thing worse than looking over to that overeager, grinning face was a sobering understanding that she had.

There was no doubt that given the sheer, absolutely unheard of length of time that she and Ash had known each other for, that the Monster would be the perfect lightening rod for her. With It capturing her power and honing - no matter how paltry Its power would turn out to be - she could use magic.

There was also the terrible truth, that Monsters in this day and age were rare. So very rare that it was becoming unheard of to find one, even for a Witch.

She swallowed and found that she had to close her eyes to stop herself from looking at Ash. "I - I may have a lead on where to find a good companion." 

Netta was trying with all of her might to not press her hand over her mouth to discourage herself from wanting to vomit.  She continued. "It's just that there might be some - complications."

When she opened her eyes, she was startled to find that Ash had stepped over to her. It leaned over the table so that It was resting on Its elbow. Ash stared, deeply, into Netta's eyes. Those purples looked as though at any moment they might revolt and show something angrier - deeper.

Calliope stopped in the middle of working a long-handled plastic brush through a soapy mason jar and turned around.

Netta was grateful for the excuse to look away from the Monster, turning to look at the older Witch. She tried to stop the heavy thump of her heart in her chest. "How complicated are we talking here?"

Netta turned her eyes up to the ceiling. Oh, how to put it delicately?

It was so much harder, she found, to talk like Ash was not there when the Monster was leaning onto the table, staring into her eyes. Finally, she bit her lip. "I have - a lead on someone." She winced as she said it, realizing that in her distracted state, she had referred to It as a person.

Against her better judgment, Netta looked down, into the face of her enemy. Ash stared back at her, unblinking. "- but It's not very strong, I don't think." 

Those purples seemed to swirl in an angry spiral, darkness almost drawing her in, until she had to look past It, at the old woman.  "Not based on what Its capable of, alone." She had to fight to keep a smirk off of her lips.

Calliope clapped her and, grinning, strode to the table, the soap glancing off of her arms with each step.  "Oh, beautiful, I mean, that's some great news. And here I thought that we would need to wander through the desert in this weather and hope that a nice Monster takes a liking to you."

Netta hissed and turned away, unable to look any further at either Calliope or the thunderous, accusing expression on Ash's face.  "I don't think that I can do it."

"Why not?" She could clearly hear the disappointment in Calliope's voice.

Ash said, "You're not being rid of me so easily. I won't let another touch you, for as long as I can help it." Gone, totally, was the deceitfully playful flirting, revealing angry intent.

"We don't exactly - get along..."  Finally, she cleared her throat and, turning to look back at the other woman, said, "Me and the Monster had a falling out a long time ago. I am really certain that having a partnership with It would be a very, very bad idea."

Calliope sat down in her chair and hurriedly rubbed off the remaining soap and water from her hands with a dish towel.

Reaching across the table, the older Witch took hold of Netta's hands, glancing through a livid Ash.  Calliope spoke, an almost tender - motherly - smile on her face. 

"The beauty of this sort of a relationship is how little squabbling matters in the end. Even deep differences that would cause the biggest holes in a Hhuman romantic relationship," she said the term as though she had been describing the nastier bits of offal. "can be simply remedied in a manner that is good for the Witch. Remember, all they are are tools."

She smiled serenely at Netta, as though nothing she had said was any different than if she was simply talking to Netta about normal, Human boy troubles.  Calliope said, "They can only use what you give them."

"What about issues of personality?"  Netta asked, daring to glance, for a moment, into the tight lines of Ash's face.

The older Witch laughed. "My dear, Familiars have no choice other than to be dragged along at the length of tether that you allow them. Given little enough, even the most strong-willed of their types will cave and become exactly the sort of a... man that you would love to spend an eternity with," she wrinkled her nose as she said it, then followed up with, "so I've heard, at least."

Netta pulled her hands away. Damn her weakness, but she found that the thought of making Ash walk in lockstep to her whims - to tame that patronizing attitude and that sarcastic lilt to Its smiles - was unappetizing to her.

The thought of being around Ash that intimately, however, pushed her away totally.

"Agh - I can't, really, I can't. You'd have to know him - It - Its not even meaty enough to chew through."

Blessedly, Ash was silent - but Its rising anger was hard to ignore.

Calliope sighed and leaned back in her seat.  "If you say so, dear. I was just trying to point out the obvious to you before you had to go trudging through the wilds in search of an imp or a toad faerie. Let me tell you, though, they make phenomenally ugly males even after you've been with one for a century." She amended what she said quickly. "Not that I know from experience!"

Calliope shuddered, raising a hand to her forehead. "But - once you get a contract secured, you must see what you can find, at Home."  She laid her hands down on the table and began to beat a slow drumming on the countertop. 

Netta stared into her face, and tried to recall when she had last seen this woman. It had to be - well, at least over twenty years back. The last time she had dared to make a return to her homeland.

Calliope's face looked a little worn - side effect, surely, of not being able to keep an immortality spell at full power. That was not all, though. She looked haunted, worried about something that darkened her eyes, made her hesitate to talk about what truly mattered.  Finally, she said, "I - fear that there may be something there, left by whatever may have taken the others." 

Calliope continued, gave Netta another weak smile that did not reach her eyes. "Just remember, dear, we're still one of the more traditional Covens - when you find a nice Monster, return to me, and I can affix the seal to your skin. If you're going to become one of us, you're going to need protection - don't forget."

The seal. A magical umbilical cord that attached a Witch to her Sisters, made her power controllable by the Coven Matriarch. Which, with her Mother being gone -

Netta couldn't believe that it had not occurred to her, until then, to ask.  "If Hera is gone, then who is the Matriarch?"

Calliope paled and stared down into her tea cup. "I - why, I suppose that that would - that is to say, that sort of thing is what we've been trying to decide since she passed."

Netta found that she could not stop staring at the older Witch, could hardly blink. "You're telling me that this Coven does not currently have a Matriarch?"

Netta was again reminded of Ash's presence when It chuckled. "Oh, what's the matter, afraid of not having someone there as a safety net, in case a big, bad Monster decides to take advantage of you?"

Netta wanted, desperately, to tell It that those threats were empty. After all, no free Monster could ever over-power a Human, let alone a Witch.  Still, she could not suppress the shudder that wracked through her until she had to look down at her clenching hands. Clearing her throat, she forced her attention on Calliope. 

"Then, who will take responsibility, in case I -" she stopped, found that she could not continue, horrified by the thought that blazed across her mind.

Possession.

That term was the nightmare of Witches, taught to the orphaned girls that were brought into the comfort of a Coven. Taught to fear it, it was the loss of personhood as a beloved Monster, invariably, would betray them.   Unless they exerted control - and distance - from a would-be lover. It was the only way to prevent it. To keep a cool, analytical head above all else.

The only way to deal with a Possessed Witch, with the exception of rare instances where the Witch could be pulled loose from the maelstrom of the Monster's influence, would be execution.

Their deaths - a necessity, to protect both remaining Witches and Humans, who would otherwise be alerted to the existence of Witches - was the responsibility of her Sisters, her fellow Coven Witches.  Just thinking about such things, more a reality then than they ever had been to her, made Netta feel dizzy.

She said, "Then who - who could take responsibility if I - when I-"

Become-

She couldn't keep her gaze away from It, could see the Monster's gaze burning out of the corner of her eye.   When she turned to glance at It, Ash's expression seemed more guarded, the false humor - and obvious - burning - cruelty was gone.

Ash's face was a still, emotionless mask, eyelids fallen over half of Its eyes. It was corpse-like, not even bothering with the facade of breathing. Slowly, It smiled, revealing perfect, brightly white teeth.

"Netta? Dear, is there something the matter with you?"

Netta closed her eyes, tried to get a handle on her pulse. Her heart felt as though it wanted to burst out of her chest.   "I-I'm fine."

Calliope paused. When Netta opened her eyes, she saw the older Witch gazing at her with a worried look.

Calliope said, slowly, "I suppose if you become - a Monster's plaything, then I take the responsibility for... that nasty business. Netta, dear, there is no danger of it, if you follow the precautions. You need the Coven seal, affixed before you copulate, or else you run the risk of being seduced by one, to allow It to make you believe that It loves you."

"But if I get the seal, then that's the end of me being free."  She fidgeted. "There's no going back - I'll be tied to the Monster."

"Yes," Calliope said, her voice tired. "like we told you girls a thousand and one times as children, it's a binding contract.  But one that'll keep you safer than the raw, dangerous binding would be, under the thralling will of the Monster as you... mate."

Netta again found it all but impossible to keep her gaze away from It. As she kept her gaze on Calliope, however, she realized that Ash had disappeared.

The world seemed to shake around her, tremors caused by her heart's beating in her throat, her chest, her wrists. She fought to not show her fear, to suppress her quivering. Still, she could feel the uncontrollable shake of her hands.

Ash's voice, rasping and lacking in human cadence, burned against her left ear. "I will never let those bitches brand you." It pressed full, burning lips against the tender curves of her ear, as though adding emphasis to the barely quelled rage in Its words.

Somehow, she managed to not jump at the sensation or the sound of the Monster's voice. Netta could feel her hands shaking more, however, and she lowered her hands to her lap.

Calliope spoke, her voice sounding brightened. "Now, the thing to keep in mind is that even after the seal has been affixed, you cannot run the risk of being - ahem - intimate with one too often. For one thing, you will burn Its power away and kill it too quickly to be of any help to you. I know this will be your first, undoubtedly -"

When she said first, as though on cue, Ash ran Its tongue along the middle corridor of Netta's outer ear.

Netta let out a soft, telltale sound - surprise, horror - and a feeling that she was immediately ashamed to recognize. One that seemed to creep between her thighs and make them shake uncontrollably.

Calliope's voice was a panacea that only partially worked at wresting Netta loose from the pattern that Ash was making Netta feel lost in, trapped.

"My dear, you don't look well. Are you certain that you don't need to be taken to bed right now?"

Its chuckle, muffled and evil, burned against her ear. "Yes, Netta," Ash murmured. "are you certain you don't want to go to bed?"

Netta's hands shot out from under the table and her left hand smacked against her ear. Infuriatingly, she felt as her hand collided, not with Ash's head, but smashed against her ear. Netta let out a sharp cry and pitched forward, grasping her ear with the same hand that she had smashed it with.

Calliope was standing, her hands pressed on Netta's shoulders. She said, "You're not well. I can make a bed up, you can stay here -"

"No, no, no, no -" Netta hurried to her feet then, heard the resulting screeching of her chair as it skidded against the linoleum. "I can - I'll leave." She turned away from the older Witch, overcome, for a moment, with the old horror of her dangerous friend set on trying to shock her.

She shuddered in a few deep breaths, managed, somehow as she always did, to regain control. Netta said, "I will go - I think I do need to sleep it off."

From behind her, Netta heard Ash as It said, "That's a good girl."