"Pagan: Enchantress of Britain "
This is the story about England's greatest champion, a mutant Enchantress born with incredible powers and an even more incredible legacy. Descendent from the greatest witch to have walked the earth, Morgan le Fey, her name is Morgana, and this is her story...
Pagan is my character. You may not use her at all. If you wish to know more about her feel free to check her at the following
It was a normal Friday night in bustling New York City. In a small bar in Brooklyn called the Black Moon was destined to escalate into quite an interesting night. The main reason was due to the bartender. Her name was Morgana O'Shale, but everyone called her Pagan. After glancing at her you can see why. Dressed in a somewhat revealing black leather tank top and hip-hugging black leather pants, Morgana, or Maggie to her close friends, looked every part the Gothic. With various piercings decorating her ears, eyebrows and bellybutton, plenty of dark makeup and two tattoos, one of a pentagram on her lower back and the other of a small dragon on her right shoulder, she was erotic and frightening at the same time. With long, dark brown hair that was often pinned up in a rather messy braid and incredible sky-blue eyes, Morgana was a vision of loveliness that most men would not dare to court in fear of being burned. Luckily her appearance was mostly for show, to frighten those macho males from molesting her much. The most important thing about Morgana to the customers of the Black Moon was her quality of drinks, which luckily enough was superb. No one mixed drinks like Morgana.
It was around midnight, and the bar was alive and kicking. The night was made even more interesting however by the not so welcome sight of a group of Frat Boys, about six of them, all rowdy, all eager to drink like there was no tomorrow. Morgana did not like Frat Boys. They tended to be spoiled rich kids that think that all woman were their property and often reminded her of over-anxious gorillas on crack when drunk. However they also tend to be good tippers and so Morgana decided to keep quiet and stay out of their sight as much as possible, smiling and rolling her eyes to the regulars, bobbing her head to the throbbing sound of Tatu.
Though this kept her out of their sights this did not go for the rest of the bar goers. One of them was a young, pretty thing by the name of Sandy. Sandy was not a regular, but her older sister, Becca, was. Morgana liked Becca whom she happened to study with, and so out of courtesy to the wiser of the sisters agreed to keep an eye on the young and innocent Sandy. Unfortunately Sandy was celebrating her birthday today and came to Black Moon for her first alcoholic beverage. Good news for the Frat boys, bad news for poor Sandy.
The Frat Boys have been harassing poor Sandy and her young friends all night with embarrassing comments and invitations to join them in some fun. Sandy obviously had no idea what to make of it and blatantly ignored them, flipping her long waves perfect blond hair in a manner that was both insulting and attractive at the same time. Blonds, Morgana thought to herself in disgust. Looking away, Morgana spent the next fifteen minutes focusing on cleaning beer mugs until a noise from the back ally distracted her, making her look up to see that both Sandy and the Frat Boys where missing. Great.
Asking the other bartender to watch the bar for a moment while she took out the trash, Morgana headed out back. With her face set in a grimace of exasperation and irritation, Morgana walked out into the back ally that faced the bar to find quite a sight. There, lying on the floor with a panting Frat Boy on top of her was poor Sandy, about to be raped while the other Frat Boys stood there, watching and catcalling, begging for their turn while Sandy tried screaming, to no avail.
Morgan watched this with a stupefied look on her face; unable to believe the girl would dense enough to go outside with these jerks in the first place. It was only until later that Morgana found out that Sandy had blundered her way to the back looking a bathroom, the Jocks more then eager to follow. Her face set, Morgana walked forward and faced the Frat-Boys, who had been far too distracted (and drunk) to notice her. "Excuse me lads. Can ye let the girl go? I don't want te get rough." Morgana ordered, her voice musical and with a slight English/Irish accent, placing her hands on her hips, glaring at them all contemptuously.
The Frat Boys spun around in shock, and then stared at her with wide, drunk eyes. A full minute passed until one Jock finally came out of his drunken funk and gasped out "Get her!". Then all the Jocks, forgetting poor Sandy, jumped forward, eager to get their nasty hands on Morgana's delectable flesh.
With a grin of diabolical glee on her face, Morgana swung her hands forward, her eyes dancing and spinning, calling on the gifts she had been born with. See, Morgana is a mutant who can do various things with the natural elements of the world, as well as alter probability fields. One of these things incorporated summoning the elements, including fire. Fireballs the size of baseballs slammed into each Frat boy, setting them ablaze. Shrieking with pain and terror all the Frat Boys ran away, screaming that a witch was after them.
Morgana smiled. It was not too far from the truth.
And so thus ended Morgana's last night at the Black Moon, for when the cops found out about the incident Morgana was promptly fired to avoid a lawsuit. Figures. Help a stupid blond out and all you end up with is getting burned.
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