Feather Dusters

1987 January

Creation: Capricorn IV

Species: Library System

Level: 33

Capable of mind defence, complex thought and processing 15,300 words per hour. Efficiency increased by half.

Creation: Aquarius III

Species: Inventory System

Level: 26

Capable of storing 14 objects. Summoning cost decrease doubled.

Creation: Pisces II

Species: Healing System

Level: 10

Magic focus increased x2 Dexterity increased x2

Alana was annoyed. It was not the small annoyance one might feel when their siblings refused to be quiet, but rather the tempest born of two months of not being contacted by Raoul for a job. Even worse was the snail-pace speed the levelling of her creations had slowed to. She patted Aquarius reassuringly from her perch by an apartment window, not quite sure if it could read her thoughts. To think that she'd sunk so low as to accept muggle requests. It wasn't as though she was low on money, quite the opposite in fact. Alana had easily surpassed the average income of a ministry worker with the number of jobs she accepted. Even while taking at least half of them anonymously or through Greyson, she had managed to gain herself a respectable reputation in the lucrative business of criminal activities.

She drew another breath and Pisces curled tighter around her right arm. Her rifle straightened its trajectory, and she fired. It was with dull eyes that she watched the bullet hit one Archie Tryce. Such mundane methods of murder were, unfortunately, enough to end a muggle's life. Sometimes she thought she would have coped better had her mother been murdered. By a vengeful lover perhaps? But she had not been, and her daughter had seen how truly weak humans could be. It was a choice whether one remained satisfied with their own innate weakness or not though, and she had since decided that she would not. This world would chew her up and spit her out the moment she doubted that decision.

The gun was packed away, and her employer notified without a hitch. The muggle world seemed colourless in comparison to the magical world. Even the shadows of London seemed paler than Knockturn Alleys. Muggles walked to and fro on their daily business without noticing the murderer beside them. It was a stark contrast to the days when most muggles would sneer at her in disgust. She wondered if it had been an instinctual reaction to her magic or if it had been her appearance. She should do a study on that: the reaction of muggles to young magical auras. It would explain why so many were abused in the Harry Potter novels. The black earrings she wore cloaked the identifiable parts of her magic as she continued her march. She needed a drink and by damn right, the fact it was 10 in the morning wouldn't stop her.

Knockturn Alley was busiest in the morning hours than the afternoon. This was largely due to the late business hours of most aristocrats or 'purebloods' as they call themselves. Alana hummed with amusement at the sight of a blonde man being accosted by several stall owners at once. Their money bags brought all the hags to the yard. She slipped into the shadows and continued on her way only to feel the eyes of Esme Reed, tracking her movements. She tilted her head in question and received a come hither gesture in reply. Well then… Chuckling, she adjusted her cloak and followed the woman. It was not the first time she had conversed with the hag since her help finding Raoul. In fact, if fate were smiling on her, they would be contacting each other far more frequently. Esme finally stopped.

"I've got twenty-three wanting to help ya. That enough, Sparra?" Alana smiled at the woman. It was the best news she had heard in weeks.

"More than enough, dear Esme. I'm sure you've informed them of the conditions?"

"O' Course. They bloody demanded 'em from me." She gave Alana look that screamed, 'Why would you ask such a stupid question? We're hags, not idiots!'

The matter they were discussing had been brought up a few days ago when Alana had brought up the lack of jobs with the woman. Esme had also divulged her own need for funds to get by and that she had not been able to afford magical crafts for many years. Alana had proposed a business partnership almost immediately. If Raoul could not find deals, then surely the hags could draw some out. They were everywhere, after all, scattered about Europe in small, tightly-knit communities. She would offer a 10% cut to whoever found a job and 5% to Esme for managing it. Any further information would be negotiated for, of course. It seemed there was some interest. She was unsure how profitable it would be, but it was worth a shot.

1987 March

Creation: Capricorn IV

Species: Library System

Level: 35

Capable of mind defence, complex thought and processing 15,500 words per hour

Creation: Aquarius III

Species: Inventory System

Level: 29

Capable of storing 15 objects. Summoning cost decrease doubled.

Creation: Pisces II

Species: Healing System

Level: 13

Magic focus increased x2 Dexterity increased x2

It had taken Raoul five days to find out about the network. To say that conversation had been awkward for Alana would have been the understatement of the century. If he wasn't scolding her for the hair-brained decision to start a spy network in his backyard, he was asking her if she was planning to usurp him because that's what it looked like. In his words, she had 'acted like a reckless fool in her mindless adrenaline junkie way'. She had weakly protested the description. She considered herself more of a connoisseur of the criminal arts, but her argument was weak with the hard evidence saying otherwise. She had no interest in any near-death experiences, yet she had thrown herself into harm's way because she was impatient. Realising the stupidity of her actions had been painful, but she couldn't refute Raoul's accusations.

Raoul had been livid in every sense of the word. The emotion mainly hinged on the fact that she hadn't even consulted him on the subject but acted with mindless haste. He was mildly placated when she begged him to take over the connections. His warning was one that would stay in her mind for several weeks. She was only a child, so he would give her aid this once, but the next time, he would not be so lenient. It was easy to forget the man was a skilled criminal at times, but at that moment, she had never been more aware of the fact. Everyone knew what happened to the people Raoul cut off. It was a brush with death that she did not care to repeat.

Raoul met with Esme in the backroom, and Alana explained the situation. It was unlikely Esme would be complaining any time soon as she had increased the cut to informants by 5% and still managed to keep her own slice. Her excuse for giving Alana a lower figure had sent a slight shudder down Alana's spine. 'They were friends.' Esme had said the words so naturally that it was a wonder she had never become an actress. While the words were somewhat true, anyone with two brain cells knew a hag wouldn't hinge their decisions on such a flimsy status. Raoul had agreed readily and taken over the reins, integrating the informants with a few of his own and getting a profile of all involved. It was with some thought that he allowed Alana to observe his progress. She had been quietly fascinated at the display of management and the immense skill with which he handled the matter. It was akin to watching an artist sculpt a masterpiece. Raoul was entirely in his element.

She had gotten her first job in what felt like a lifetime in late March.

After a week of preparations and observing the not-so-humble mansion before her, Alana decided she was ready. The building was muggle in design, but there were wards blatantly obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. Nicholas Borges was a wealthy wizard of Italian descent with dark eyes and darker hair. He was also using magic to improve the quality of the goods he was selling to muggles in Britain. While not illegal in Italy, his actions just happened to be illegal in Britain and a blight on the 'legal' muggle businesses owned by purebloods.

Consequently, he was going to die today. Alana cast the panicking and gagged woman at her feet a dry look. It had been far too easy to knock the muggle out - using muggle methods, of course. The use of a wand to harm a muggle was illegal, and her employer had been so very specific. Her skill with this restriction was likely the reason Raoul had given the job to her of all people. After sedating the woman, she stripped her of her entry pass to Borges' storage warehouse. She would take care of that afterwards.

Contrary to common belief, there were a great many magical subjects a person could study that did not involve the use of a wand. The reason so many dismissed them was more than likely the cost. This was also the main reason why Alana had taken so many jobs. After all, potions ingredients and books were in no way cheap. If runes had been her first love, then potions had been her first romp. Its similarities to chemistry and limitless applications had her high and heady after every brew, or perhaps, that was the fumes talking. She had quite happily come across a lovely illegal potion 'Riposare Mente' in a less-than-legal book. The Italian-crafted potion was similar to the imperious curse but of shorter duration and yielded less control. One could implant a single strong suggestion in the mind a few minutes after its ingestion, and it would grow stronger over time. So really, she supposed it was closer to a time-dependent liquid compulsion charm. Alana had dosed one of the security staff for the midday shift, which would start soon. A small smile appeared when the security cameras all turned down.

She entered the building as if she owned the place. It had taken about half an hour to knock out the guards and disable a few of the nastier wards from the outside. The mansion felt more like a mafia's hideout than an overseas home. Maybe Italians were just rich like that? Inside was mostly clear of wards with only a few more potent ones that were easier to disable. The number of wards was of greater concern to her than their quality when most of the ones up were amateur or rushed. She shot another three guards before they could even draw their weapons and yawned as they bled out on the polished floor. She didn't even need to use Pisces. Perhaps the poor fellow she was going to kill just didn't realise his head was wanted. Alana reached the second floor with little issue and checked the cameras again. Well done, Kyle! Still down. Two doors and a right turn. She had already found out the rough layout of the house. Who needs such a large place anyways?! Alana poked a gun into the study to find… nothing. How anticlimactic. It was then that she had an idea.

Several moments later, Alana kicked open a door and pointed her gun at the chest of Nicholas Borges with a demonic cackle. The man was so terrified he pissed himself, which was why it was so fortunate that he was already sitting on a toilet. He was speaking in rapid Italian that Alana could barely understand, let alone translate. His arms were flailing around like a duck which was kind of annoying. She was tempted to pull the trigger, but… her client had been very specific. She summoned the now visible wand he was reaching for with a flick of the wrist and stepped out of the toilet to let him finish his business. Pisces curled lazily around her shoulders, looking more like a docile sea serpent or snake than a fish at that moment. She had trained for a whole year so that she could move objects more accurately only to use the skill on a man using the toilet. It was rather… sad. After about five minutes, Nicholas Borges waddled out. At least he had the sense not to make her wait.

"Please, my familia will pay double, whatever you want if you leave me alone." The whimpering was in poor taste but to be expected. She ignored the pleading and kicked the back of his knees, so he hit the floor. A quick bullet to his leg made sure he wouldn't rise anytime soon.

"I won't make any trouble, please! My family has gone too far! I couldn't take it! The Russos were never supposed to be hurt, they were our allies." Alana quirked an eyebrow expressionlessly at the man.

"I have proof! I have proof! I will give it to you if you spare my life!" Alana paused with a hidden smile and removed her gun. It was curious how targets got more anxious the less you talked.

"Speak."

"I have it on a hard drive in my study! I will go get!"

She followed the man as he limped his way to the room and rummaged for the hard drive. She had her gun out the entire time so he wouldn't get any ideas. The object was in his hands soon enough. She chuckled and reached out to take the offering when the man elbowed her in the stomach. Flash drive in one hand, she doubled over as the gun was ripped from her grasp. Nicholas was quick to aim the gun at his assailant who quickly straightened up to face him but made no movements otherwise. His house had been broken into, his guards likely killed and his assets about to be stolen by a damned kid if the height was good enough to tell by. Did this unseasoned brat really expect him to hand over a hard drive of evidence against his family?! He laughed bitterly. They would get what was coming, but it would be by his hand alone. He pulled the trigger. Silence greeted him. Nothing happened. He tried again. He was trembling at the realisation that the cartridge was empty. He didn't need a kick to the knees to fall this time.

Alana watched reality hit the man like a ton of bricks and sighed with satisfaction. Ah, how cruel. A knife was in her hands before she could blink, and she inserted it quickly into his hand. The scream was delightful to her ears. Another and another and another and… well, she didn't want him bleeding to death. Snot trailed from the male's nose and into his slobbering mouth. The annoyance she had felt at his attempt to turn the tables had been soothed somewhat. Aquarius leapt into her arms, and she stroked the slime softly while murmuring a few words of endearment. The creature jiggled happily in reply. The slime then pounced on the man and pushed itself into his body through his mouth, nose and ears.

"Now is fine," Alana purred sweetly. The order was unnecessary, but it was satisfying to know her creatures would forever be content to fulfil their creator's will. Aquarius secreted a colourless, odourless and bitter powder. Strychnine. The man twisted in vain to dislodge the creature and the slime detached quickly, having already accomplished its task.

You could tell the moment the poison kicked in. The man's body writhed on the ground, his mouth opening to emit choked sobs. His body convulsed, shaking wildly and contorting as the neurotoxin stimulated his spinal nerves. The neurotoxin was a naturally-occurring poison sourced from the seeds of the Styrchnos-nux-vomica tree. Alana had already taken a seat and observed the progression with morbid fascination. To think that such a thing was commercially available as a pesticide. After a while, the novelty of the man's twisting spine began to wane, and Alana decided to make use of the computer in the man's study to check the hard drive. Lo and behold, the shady fucker was telling the truth. She whistled appreciatively at the files stored on the device. Someone would pay a pretty price for them no doubt. She double-checked on the man. His sobs had stopped at least. She drew a blade and decided the clients request of 'death by torture' was vague enough to allow some time reduction.

She dragged the blade carefully down his chest putting just enough pressure on it to break the skin. His shirt was removed as her image took form. A bloody feather was carved with a large central shaft (rachis) lined with paired branches (barbs). She slit his throat after finishing. His wand was useless in her hands, but she was sure she could find a use for it eventually. Maybe as a feather duster?