September 1 MS

Flash wouldn't see the effect his observation had on Hess, with his face concealed by his orientation. Still he was glad to finally have a name. With a name, it would be a simple matter to ask around about him to his many connections. Even those who didn't know Hess well could offer shreds of details, which would lead to what classes he was in, his house, demeanor, associates, activities... it was a boarding school, so no one was free from passive observation. Flash had learned from his older brother how important it was to gather information, and how easy it was to gather when people trusted him.

Flash hardly expected to be invited to join him on a walk, let alone with Marion in tow. The pink princess seemed to bubble to life, like an automaton activated to perform. Flash standard calm demeanor would shift slightly, internally distressed by the control of the conversation being rent away from him through a command. He did not like being told what to do, and felt obligated to object on that principle alone.

Yet... he was at a disadvantage. Hess wanted to seek Erin out again, intended something specific once he did. Marion spoke of something she was 'supposed to' do. Like a cat to the reaper, Flash's curiosity would forego the clear signals of danger. Despite the prayers and promises he made himself in the dungeons on his last birthday, he had learned nothing. Had he been handed Pandora's box, he would certainly find some excuse to fling it open immediately.

"Alright." He replied tersely, then turning to Marion whom he had only made official acquaintance with during the last Blossom Ball. "Miss Marion."

As they (presumably) started walking, Flash would grow tense. Even though he was free to leave, it did not make the situation any more comfortable. Hess' unfamiliarity, Marion's status as the living dead to name a few disconcerting details. There was very little Flash could do to prepare for the worst, but at the very least he could continue to pry. Marion would be the first to strike up conversation, though she did little more than begin to banter. What exactly was churning in that skull of hers, anyway?

"Thank you, I make my own perfume." Flash offered. He'd not comment on his own physique, which was average at best for someone in a physical sport. "In the past I used to make it from the wildflowers on the grounds. I learned some flowers should not be picked. The ones near the forest for instance were dangerous, they attracted mosps."

Flash continued the banter, sharing honestly yet pushing an agenda. "Did you two come together? I don't imagine you came to pick flowers."

The point was to draw him down, away from the worn path in the grass created by students traversing the steep incline to Hogwarts. The trunks being dragged, breaking the stems of wildflowers in their last days of bloom, flattening the grass and prying jagged stones from the ground. Away from the passive glances, the casual voices chattering and the safety afforded by numbers. The promise of familiarity, of pack cohesion and welfare.

Nothing to worry about Flash Holmwood, in the company of some pretty girl. One you seem to know the name of, how... concerning. Albeit a brief matter like his mettling. He seemed chattier with the girl, he would leave the distractions to her. It was her forte it seemed even if it left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth to see it at work. So Jürgen did what he intended, he led the way. People do not pay as much attention when in pursuit. His hand over his holster, he was listening to their banter.

Admittedly he did not care greatly for Marion, she was a very pretty girl but something about her never sat right with him. How Vladimir was so infatuated with her. How they were still friends after what happened to Victor. How they saw so little of her but what little they did, she seemed so... perfect. Had he considered the viability of chance, perhaps he would have had interest himself in spite of her obvious short-comings. She was a muggle-born, lacking in class, skill and pedigree. It was unfortunate really, he knew she was more clever than she looked. He saw some of the books she read, the ones well beyond either of their years when she thought nobody was looking. That nobody would notice.

"Did you two come together? I don't imagine you came to pick flowers."

"Yes and no," Jürgen replied. "She's a friend of a--" he had to pick the right term to describe Vladimir. "--friend," he decided. Vladimir was the one that recognized the symptoms -- the madness, the deteriorating physical state, the scars revealed by the green sparks that started it all. He was not wrong and his assessment was what drove Jürgen to do something that he never thought he would have to do. It was eerie to discover how easy he found it once he had determined he would. Like doing a chore you wanted to put off, but once it was in motion like Newtonians Law: an object in motion remains in motion at constant speed and in a straight line unless acted on by an unbalanced force. He was already in motion.

Erin had moved towards the northwest by way of the cast via the shoreline. There were scattered groves of conifers along the stony edge, moreso the further they got from the caste. Remote, unlikely to be interrupted. He would just have to deal with Flash, likely once they reached such a site. Southwest along the water's edge, another hundred meters or so and they reach the first treeline.

@Flash Holmwood

"Miss Marion."

How sweet, he remembered her name. Shame she could not say the same but she smiled broadly. Nice straight, normal humany teeth. All what 32 of them or so.

"Thank you, I make my own perfume."

She complimented his scent. Flowers, really?

"In the past I used to make it from the wildflowers on the grounds. I learned some flowers should not be picked. The ones near the forest for instance were dangerous, they attracted mosps."

She nodded her head, this was the time to make small talk and she knew it. "Do you know who knows a lot about flowers?" She would ask rhetorically as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Not cold, a warm hand. A warm touch. The strong scent of rosemary, tansy, lavender, carnation, and feverfew. A combination a historian would be more likely to recognize. For others, a strong, herbal tea-like scent, not particularly offensive but strong. She made a thin yet childishly wide smile, "I do."

"Did you two come together? I don't imagine you came to pick flowers."

Why would he care? Probably to see what sort of lie either of them came up with. To assess his potential peril considering the suspicions he was starting to harbor. People don't normally ask questions, involve themselves with matters that do not directly concern him. The girl would have fled or eaten him alive with a scent like that if given the opportunity. An opportunity like he was giving her right now.

"Yes and no," Jürgen replied. "She's a friend of a--" his voice trailed off. "--friend."

"Vladimir," she interjected. No reason to lie. Her relationship with the later Victor Moore and Vladamir Athanatos were not only well-known but highly publicized. Any ignorance offered by Flash was likely feigned. "And no, we met up today," she claimed. Not they met today, just they met-up here. One of those coincidental occurrences. "He is bringing me to the nurse for my treatments, I don't like going alone," an oddity few seemed to notice. Marion was almost always accompanied by someone, be is Vladimir, as of mid last year Mathias Pride. A bit old for requiring a chaperone. A bit odd that the teen would be willing to satisfy.

The tree line was quickly approaching. This would be one of their best opportunities. She would look over at Hess with thin, arched elevated brows. She was no Legilimens and she had her doubts that Jürgen was either, hopefully he was able to read her expression since they had a third wheel they needed to manage before they took out Erin. The sooner the better.

Marion listened to Flash's words attentively. Too attentively, really. It was so saccharine as to nearly be offensive. His whole family was comprised of people who knew how to make people feel special-- how to compliment, make contact, flatter. If Marion's upbringing had been similar, she must have been sick during the lesson on subtlety. While Flash's interests and studies would have him far too distant from miasma theory to read anything into her own signature smell, the gentle warmth from her touch was itself alarming. Why was she warm? He'd look at her hand when it was placed on him, also failing any subtlety in his confusion.

To his question, Hess faltered while Marion continued. Flash's eyes would flit between them, increasingly on edge as they moved further. Part of him had hoped there was less of a connection between them, that they would be more eager to distance themselves from their actions. Why hadn't he heard of Hess before, when Vladimir was one of the most scrutinized students in the school. A 'friend', really? What he had originally conceived as a mere oddity was starting to feel downright sinister. Was he just over-thinking it? Or, really, was there any chance at all that this was innocent?

"Friends... to the nurse?" Flash partook in his habit of repeating pertinent information, emphasizing the wording being used and what was out of place. Internalizing, focusing, connecting dots. "You're saying..." He was addressed Hess now, "you're related to Miss Erin, made acquaintance with Miss Marion through Vladimir? How odd."

An understatement certainly, but he was still processing. Were there any answers they could give him that would be satisfying, or was he just getting the run around ever since he stuck his nose in the wrong place? In that most likely of scenarios, there was no longer room left to be coy. He stopped in his tracks, regardless of if they continued walking or stopped along with him. "Did you know Miss Marion before she died? Do you have some sort of plan to help Miss Erin with her deal with the hags? I'd like to know before we see her again."

There was something going on and much to Jurgen's confusion, there was a great more that was ongoing than what the young Gryffindor was aware of. The matter was more complicated than Jurgen has known. He knew that Vladimir was enamored by Marion in spite of his claims otherwise. His insistence that she be escorted daily to the nurses office for her "dose of medicine" as he called it shown a great deal of concern for her health and well-being. He did not know that Vladimir's intentions were primarily guilt-driven, that he was to blame for the girl's infection in the first place. Hess truly thought it was some sort of affection Athanatos had for the muggle born. Whatever affections he had were exhausted a long time ago, it was at this point merely an act of obligation.

"Distantly," Jurgen reminded Flash empathetically. He was distantly related to Erin. The 'Miss' being wholly unnecessary, she was better described as an 'it' as far as he was concerned. "Nothing odd about connections in a school like this," Hess added defensively. Everyone here was connected in some way, a second-degree association at the most. if they don't share a class, they share a house, they share a friend, they share a team, a bloodline or even a skillset. It was likely every person in this school could find themselves associated with himself or one of his first or second degree cousins in such a direct manner. Yet Flash was reading more into it, not that he was wrong in spite of the plausibility of Jurgen's statement. It was obvious he had caught on or he had always knew, always suspected.

"Did you know Miss Marion before she died? Do you have some sort of plan to help Miss Erin with her deal with the hags? I'd like to know before we see her again."

And there it was, the clear questions... no accusation in a way that Holmwood made. Hess would cough into his sleeve and let out a slight laugh. "So, there are people like you in this school," the teen announced with a disarming grin that replaced his otherwise pleasant features. "You know, we had been warned that there might be some like you in this school. And I said, don't be mad -- who you ever want to work with hags."

Poor, very stupid Jurgen.

Jurgen would withdraw his wand, blackthorn and dragon heartstring. Flash had done the one thing that ensured a reaction from the teen that was desperately seeking a means to an end. One where the meddlesome Slytherin would be distracted, turned away or temporarily restrained. There was little concern for his safety now. "There is no dealing with hags, just killing them," Juren claimed perhaps a bit more shamelessly than he should have. There was an implication with his statement and the wand he held in his hand as he announced a single word of intent. "Petrificus Totalus."

The act of shedding formalities had not gone exactly as Flash had hoped. Really, it was a shot in the dark. A more intelligent plan of action would have been to ask around and learn about Hess first, then he could predict his reaction. Why had he followed the two out-- a misled attempt at preventing whatever Hess had 'planned to do' that he wouldn't elaborate on. The second mistake-- considering Marion a non-combatant. She was the one at the balls who always stood to the side and cried out for her date or 'friends' while sobbing, casting occasional defensive spells once provoked. While it was something being different about her that made him stop, he was far from fathoming just how different she was. Well, maybe not that far.

Hess' reply instead informed Flash far too late that he had allied himself with the ostensibly 'bad guy' in Erin Ryan. He had hoped this recognition of the state of affairs would lead to more clear information, a more direct conversation. Instead, a wand. Flash wouldn't hesitate, though the sight of a wand pointing at him alone struck terror in him. He had been in a few intense situations at this point, and had succumbed to panic every time. Shaking hands, missed spells. Still, he would not go down without a struggle. He may have been far too ready to assume he was safe in the broad daylight, on the grounds at school, beside two peers.

"What- h-hey-" He sputtered.

Simply put, it sounded like Hess admitted to intending to kill Erin. Perhaps he would kill Flash too. Flash didn't imagine he had any serious sway with Marion, but perhaps she would back him up once she knew Hess' intentions. Let him dream. Flash would reach for the spot at his side where his wand lay hidden, whipping it forward to try to defend himself before it was too late.

@Flash Holmwood

This was when and where things would go so very bad for Flash Holmwood. Jurgen had every intention of finding Erin and killing her. A task that he did not particularly look forward to but he was not some sort of sicko, he was merely a relative unknown that had a better chance than most to succeed. Flash Holwood was a barrier to this objective and after hearing the boy talk he had come to the erroneous conclusion that the boy was allied with the Hags.

The plan was being made on the fly, he did not anticipate the changeling to have people actively interested in their well-being. He was concerned about being witnessed committing what would be considered murder, hags being vile beings that were dark creatures protected by the same laws that protected other sentient beings, what he was doing was very much 'wrong' in the eyes of the law even if he believed that he was doing the world a favor.

Order of operations: Expelliarmus | Petrificus Totalus
1. Petrificus Totalus
2. Expelliarmus

Jurgen casts Petrificus Totalus on Flash
Wisdom 15 (+15)
Attack 11 (+10)
Evasion 5 (+5)

"Petrificus Totalus."

Better known as the Full Body-Bind, Jurgen was the faster cast and draw. A rush of cold, a feeling like he had become stone on this temperate late summer afternoon would overcome Flash Holmwood. Flash would find himself powerless, frozen in place and his ability to balance his body would be lost to him as he could no longer shift his weight. Like a sack of stones, Flsh would fall to the ground.

"I really do not enjoy doing this sort of thing," Jurgen claimed but in truth it was a lie. There was a sense of power that could be felt in someone often so powerless when the Slytherin fell frozen to the ground. The knowledge that the intrepid snake of a boy was vulnerable, defenseless and Hess would not... felt recherché. He would brush the fringe of his dark tresses from his golden eyes and look down at the boy, really look at him.

"Tsk-tsk-tsk..." He knelt down next to Flash Holmwood and rolled him over to his back, he wanted to look him in the eyes. Not that he could say anything, not that the gryffindor would care if he said a damned word. "You should have kept your cards a bit closer to your chest. And perhaps you should have chosen to ally yourself with anything but a hag, if she does not eat you alive... well, I will." Hopefully that was just a metaphor.

He would draw the wizard tight that was intended for Erin, the plan was incredibly simple. This very spell used on the feral girl to freeze her in place, to mitigate the potential damages. Then bind her arms, her legs, make certain nobody could hear her scream. He had enough, in fact he had some to spare. A needless frivalty that proved to be advantageous on this day. "Marion, please stop gawking and give me a hand," he complained. Her insistence in 'helping' made him prematurely hopeful that she would actually be more than a pretty face. The girl was an idiot.

Before the Full Body Bind Curse wore off he needed to ensure Flash was adequately bound. Jurgen was not a strong boy (2 strength), but Flash was not capable of fighting back now was he? Not the most graceful act of bondage, Jurgen would simply roll Flash once, twice, thrice, four times... It was sloppy work. He would leave the legs and mouth to Marion, if she failed to care for either...well, it would be her problem soon enough.

While Marion made use of the rest of that first roll, Jurgen had a question for Holmwood that he had no expectation that the boy would answer. "What the hell are you anyways? Changelings are never male," he commented as he tugged at the boy's collar. He was looking for a scar, some sort of evidence of mark of his affiliation. Hags really did love to mark their things. At the risk of sounding lewd, how thorough Hess was can be left to Holmwood's discretion. Not that he would find what he was looking for. He was just running out the clock on seeing the spell run its course before he left the bound youth in Marion's likely not highly capable hands.

"I really don't know what we are going to do with you after I kill," yes he would admit his intentions "Erin Ryan. Not that I take any pleasure in murder," a potential lie he was starting to discover. He liked the power that came from this dynamic, a terrible part of him was looking forward to finding that crazed girl right now. "But I am not going to let her complete The Change, it is only a few weeks away... when she turns sixteen, she will become like they are and too many people would die because of foolish sentiment on my part." Did that mean Flash needed to die? It was a distinct possibility but he did not intend to kill the boy, there was no need. Without the hag, he would be down an ally. If anything Flash would potentially lead him or perhaps one of his more intrusive allies to the hag lair.

"But I can tell you, I will make certain that you suffer incredibly after I find the hag and put an end to her," he promised. Just not right now. A light slap on the cheek, well not that light. Jurgen would pull himself back up to his feet. "Keep an eye on him Marion," he really could not be bothered to recall the fact that she preferred to be called 'Mary'. "Erin will probably be this way in another thirty-five minutes if she jogs the perimeter," he reasoned. "Don't trust allies of hags, he will lie and he will hurt you if given the chance." They were incredibly lucky that he happened to be just a little faster than Flash was. Had Flash had a chance to pronounce whatever his intended incantation was, who knows what would have happened to himself or worse yet Marion. Yes, he was under the same spell -- poor, pathetic, damsel Marion

Stats: (Seer)

✮Wisdom 15 ✮ Accuracy 10 ✮ Evasion 10 ✮ Strength 2 ✮ Stamina 5 ✮ Arcane Power 5

The rest is a secret!

Boys will be boys...

It would appear Jurgen Hess and Flash Holmwood would be no exception. A battle that would be ended in a single cast of Petrificus Totalus, the pretty boy would slam into the ground. How quaint really, the delicious terror that was likely felt as his will was sapped. He was frozen in place, his limbs stiff, unyielding and outside his control. Only the boy's pretty, shiny eyes that reminded her of marbles would be able to dart back and forth. Oh how she wanted to pluck them both from his skull and use them as window ornaments.

Jurgen was busying himself binding the mettlesome Slytherin. It was a pathetic scene really, Jurgen was not one for manual efforts and it was apparent as she watched him try to sloppily wrap their prisoner in wizard tight.

"Marion, please stop gawking and give me a hand."

Jurgen snapped, pulling Davenport from her thoughts. "Oh gosh, I am like so sorry!" She squeaked, a charade that needed to go on for just a little bit longer. She would take the roll of tape and wrap them around his legs. She would rip the tape and press the tape down hard with her hand. She was not gentle and the binding was uncomfortably tight.

She would slap a large piece over his mouth also while Jurgen enjoyed his little power trip. He was not going to stay, how could he when he had a bigger, more important quarry. Not that she cared, she was not on Erin's side. Wrong coven, as far as she was concerned Jurgen can have fun taking the neophyte down, it is better to abort the girl before she had the opportunity to rise in power.

Jurgen would leave Flash in her care. How so very kind of him, leaving her a little snack all trussed up. What fun, she loved playthings. "Righto," Marion agreed with a cheeky smile. "I will take super good care of him until you get back," she absolutely lied. "I have a little bit of tape left if I need it and I have a wand and I know how to use it," she claimed but she was not attempting to instil a great deal of confidence in the Gryffindor. Her utter lack of competence defined their lack of expectations.

She would give Jurgen a sweet little wave and wait for him to walk off, wait for him to leave the range of sight. Only then would her blank, dumb expression would change. As if she was a different person, she would glower at the possibly mobile, wiggling Slytherin. "Oh please," she scoffed as she would kneel down on the boy rather than on the ground next to him. She was dressed like she was ready for a date, but this was certainly unlike any date Flash would want to be a participant in. His lower torso, her weight was not particularly substantial but still too much pressure for ones comfort. She would lean forward, take a long, hungry sniff along his neck. "I was not making small talk when I said that you smell good." she admitted. Her hand would reach for his jaw, her fingers would hold his face roughly in place as she used her other to rip off the tape that so temporarily covered his mouth. "But I have to admit, I really like hearing your kind scream."

Flash you are bound but can speak. Jurgen has left the topic for the time being.

@Flash Holmwood

At this point, Flash had little reason to surprise himself with his own bad decision making. He had always been reckless, had been warned many times, and even found himself in several situations where his choices led him directly into scenarios born out of a nightmare. Yet there he was, his wand not yet pointed as his face was stuck on an expression of panic and confusion. Great. Plummeting to the ground like a toy being tossed aside, Flash would have no recourse to bring resolution to the feelings stuck swarming inside of him. Fear, disappointment, and anger, to name a few.

It did not help that Hess took the opportunity to wrap up his arms and legs and gloat. Seething answers would run through Flash's head, his indignant anger being the only thing distracting him from potentially fainting. Slowly, small parts of his body would warm and budge, but the process was painstakingly slow. It would feel like it was taking an hour, the way Hess went on about killing Erin as if it were nothing, as if she weren't a victim, and about him, as though he had some agenda linked with the hags. He even rifled through Flash's clothes, no doubt looking for a mark like the one on Thomas. How humiliating.

You're going to regret this. As a boy far too well adapted to positions of powerlessness, he had learned a few ways to cope. Today, it was by focusing his rage, like tempering the steel of a sword. Be could belay the satisfaction of using the finished product by putting all of his focus into making it as sharp as possible. The panic inherent in being bound would only set in if it lasted, and he intended to not let it last. His thoughts would not stay in the realm of what-ifs, nor return to the last time he was bound. He still had hope. Idiotic, childish hope.

Before Flash had any opportunity to sling venom back at Hess, Marion would be tasked with fixing his sloppy job. She bound Flash more thoroughly, covering his mouth as well. With the advent of some feeling returning to his limbs, Flash would instantly start to test the tape by trying to wriggle free, though it was not a shock that the effort would not likely do much. Then, he'd be sat upon, of all things. He'd be able to crane his neck enough at that point to see Hess retreating as Marion pinned him down, for as much as she was able. Wasn't she supposed to be as light as a feather? Why was she suddenly so different? Was this even Marion?

Though one would hope the realization would have not taken as long as it had, the words Hess had said repeated in Flash's mind, like an echo that cleared it's throat before coming back around, Changelings are never male. Flash's breathing would become fitful as she leaned over to smell him again, this time the implication being leagues more threatening than it had only moments prior. Part of him, for once, did not want to know.

He'd try to move away from her grasp on his jaw, but until he was un-frozen completely, it was a futile attempt. As she ripped the tape off that she had only just put on him, any ghost of teenage facial hair he could have hoped to be growing would be taken with it, as he was finally able to grunt in pain. It hadn't been on his skin long enough for the sweat he was building up to soften the adhesive, made only worse by the fact that some of his lip would go with it, the dry cold weather doing him no favors. A pink square would still stain his mouth, also dotted by a miniscule amount of red blood.

"Don't touch me!" Flash would, indeed, scream. His livid fury would be viscerally displayed, as there was no longer a need for wearing a mask.

As the spell wore off, the tension building up inside of him would have a short opportunity to spring forward before things got worse. He would try to kick off the ground, push Marion off of himself violently. Whether capable of doing so or not, his freed mouth meant access to his only available tool. Not his eloquent words, but his teeth. He'd just need to make a tear, using his canines to rend as they were meant to do. Once there was a tear, the integrity of the bond would be compromised, but there were several layers to tear through at that point. It was still his only option, it wasn't like he could run at the moment.

She would see Jurgen off with a pleasant, dim-witted wave. It was almost painful to play this role, the perennial portrayal of a simpleton. Thankfully there would no longer be a witness in the absence of Hess, just a bound 'hag sympathizer' left under the care of poor, hardly capable Marion Davenport. That was the point, the lack of suspicion that came with being a woman. Nobody ever suspected them and their madness, their violence and even their abusive tendances are seen as quirky, humorous, even sexy.

Flash would notice something different, something very wrong with Marion as she sat on the bound teen. In any other situation, this might have been enjoyable. Thankfully, Flash was no sicko and furthermore he had enough sense to know that this was the sort of naughty time that ended with tears and blood. It was perhaps to Flash's benefit that Marion liked to play with her food playthings. Little did he know that he was a bit too old for the girl's taste, as sweet as he might have smelled, his meat had went stringy and dry some time ago.

There were worse fates than consumption.

Yet she still breathed his scent. His first statement once he was free to scream, once Jurgen was far enough away was as expected.

"Don't touch me!"

Flash cried out and attempted to buck off.

Flash attempts to buck Marion off.
Strength (Flash) (+7) 1 [Critical Failure]
Next attempt will be at a -2 due to critical failure.
Strength (Marion) (+5) 10

"Oh please," Marion planted her palm on his chest and forced him back to the ground. She was not as light as he remembered, in fact she seemed rather strong. Not a paragon of human potential but powerful enough to be a formidable force. "You're tied up, nobody is looking for you and I just want to have a little bit of fun..." she growled into his ear. He would feel her hot breath against his skin, she was warm. No longer icy cold. Her touch rough, not as dainty as one would have potentially fantasized.

Jurgen did not find any marks on the boy, nothing saying that he belonged to them. How quaint, but also perceptive. They certainly loved to mark their territory. He was trying to rip loose, pull at his bindings, but he would not be able to raise his arms to his teeth. "You're adorable when you -- try." Her long, piano-player fingers with manicured, painted (pink) nails would rip at the collar of his shirt. If a button down, the buttons would snap. If a simple T-shirt with some discomfort to the back of his neck, she would rip his collar. Her target, his chest just above his heart. Her nails would dig into his flesh, drawing blood if he was able to crane his neck far enough to see. He would feel a terrible burn in his breast, over his heart.

Something red and raw would be left in her hand's wake. A mark not unlike the mark that marred @Thomas LeStrange's upper arm. The strange mark he donned when he returned to Hogwarts one cold winter day soaking wet.

Thomas never noticed, far too self-involved to realize. The same with @Howard White, and now Flash Holmwood. The mark, like the stone taken from Howard's fingernail that left a scar on his finger was a terrible link. Marion was a Night Hag. She always was, but taking the form of a conventionally 'attractive' muggle-born with a lacking bloodline and history was an easy task when the original met an 'unlucky fate.' She was delicious in fact. But that was years ago.

Hag Seal

While a marked victim sleeps, a Night Hag can straddle the person ethereally and intrude upon its dreams. Any creature with Blindsight (attention Howard if you watch Flash sleep if a hag comes for him) can see the hag’s spectral form straddling its prey. The ethereal hag fills her victim’s head with doubts and fears, in the hope of tricking/encouraging them into performing evil acts in the waking world. The hag continues her nightly visitations until the Victim finally expires in their sleep. If the hag has driven her Victim to commit evil deeds, she traps their corrupted soul (looks at Thomas and Howard) in her Soul Bag for transport.

Disclaimer for the husband:

My intentions are purely violent with your husband. Any sexual-sounding, seeming or taken advances are purely in character and subject to edits if at any point the player or the husband state that they are uncomfortable with the content.