Crushing Violet/The Final Claim

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Angie laid there on the bed, in post-coital bliss curled against her purple-haired Luna and resting slightly against the just-arrived fully clothed Claire. She smiles happily at both of them, fully calm now after her recent breakdown, all the fire inside her now restored.

Claire and Luna exist inside her, their fires stolen, absorbed inside Angie because of a dalliance with a goddess months ago. All magical flame enters inside her, not harming her one bit, fueling her newfound ability to channel fire.

The three of them form a circle, a relationship where they lean on each other and lift each other up. This has brought a few weeks of total bliss to Angie, including now as she rests. Things do not last, however, as the words spoken now illustrate.

Claire smiles down at both of them, and they both smile back, and then Claire speaks a little hesitantly, "Remember the bid I made for that Italian firm?"

Angie looks at her rather confused, news to her, but Angie's used to missing out on things, knowing bits and pieces of what is going on and rarely ever knowing the whole picture, "Uhm, no?"

Claire caresses Angie's arm as Luna snuggles up against Claire, "Oh? Well, I wanted to expand my business internationally, so I thought I'd start by getting my name out there, and bid on a firm. I wouldn't get it, but my name would be out there. Well, I just got word that I had the winning bid by 2.4 million dollars. And they liked my proposal so the business is mine."

Angie smiles brightly, and starts talking about celebrating as Luna softly plants kisses on Claire. Claire smiles a little and looks into each of their eyes, tears starting to form in hers, "I...I am Florence. Italy."

Angie goes cold, Luna stares and Claire continues on, "I have to take charge of the business, they are based out of Florence," and she grabs both Angie's and Luna's hands. She smiles excitedly, her voice rapidly coming out. "I want you to come with me. I can buy a Villa, just for would be beautiful."

Angie stammers, her brain already working, seeing the flaw, "Bu'...Like, warran'' treaties. I'm soo wanted fer, like, violen' bank robberies an'''...tha' Zig breakou'."

Luna stays quiet, her mouth moving up and down. The tears in Claire's eyes forming larger, a couple streaming down her cheeks, "I...don't know what to do...maybe we can get you fake papers?" Angie nods, admitting that that might work. Claire smiles softly, turning towards Luna, "You would so love it there."

Luna reaches up, closing her own open mouth with a hand, and tries to make a joke of it, "But full of Italians."

Claire smiles, a little concerned, "They are not like the Italians here. Not like the Family. Come on Girls...It's Italy. We could get away from all of this crap and live. Enjoy the sun, the wine, the food. Know that we are together. The perfect place for the perfect threesome."

Luna looks uncomfortable, and Angie completely silent. Luna says softly, "I can't leave the Isles...I'm bound by promises and obligations."

And inside, Angie's mind starts spiraling. She stares shocked and unable to speak, but inside she feels so lost and torn. Claire going one direction, Luna another. And she wants them both, oh so much. She sounds lost, saying in a small voice, "I jus'...jus' go' my Luna back."

Luna wraps herself around Angie in alarm as Claire speaks comforting platitudes. Angie continues focusing on losing everything, and is almost oblivious as Claire pulls out two rings and says, "I...I was going to ask you two to marry me...but..." The rest of the words are unheard by Angie. Her threesome, her circle, breaking apart. And now marriage is mentioned. Angie finds herself retreating, going inside...forcing the wall in her mind to be open, and hiding behind it.

Eric Bardoux sat at the window of his King's Row home, staring outside at the front entrance of his ex-wife's home. He has been doing this for months, since his little Violet, unknowingly, broke him out of the zig. He has yet to find the courage to go up to Prudence, to say to her that he never once controlled her. To confess his love, to state his desire to get them back together, and to get their daughter back. But he still hasn't. For three months, just staring at the home and making sure Prudence stayed fine.

But the monotony breaks, as he feels something just lightly touch his mind. A small shockwave and the presence of something lost and confused. He pushes himself away from the window, muttering, "Not now. I'm not ready."

He rushes into his bedroom, making it as dark as possible, and concentrates and projects. Reaching out, over 1500 miles with his mind, to touch his daughter's. And it is her, the 3 year old left behind the wall he built when he was arrested. He grows concerned, not understanding what is happening, and makes her see him sitting on the couch.

He manages, just barely, to twist his perceptions around to see everything as if he was actually on the couch, and what he sees stuns him. His daughter, looking much like his wife did way back when, completely nude with another woman, and a third, yet clothed, on the bed.

He sees his daughter turn suddenly and look at the couch, and shout out, "Daddy!" and try to run to him, only to fall off the bed and land hard. He frowns, concerned, and then the clothed woman sends a gush of flame across Angie's leg, causing Angie to scream and her leg to burn. Who is this bitch, hurting my daughter?

He sees his daughter crying, coming to crawl to the couch. The women trying to urge her to come back to bed. The nude, purple haired woman, crawls out of bed and sends a silver flame over his daughter's leg, healing the burn. Eric then begins to think he understands, or at least is beginning to.

His daughter reaches him, and he hugs her, making him feel it. "Come with my, my Violet." She nods and the space around them grows distorted, gravity warping the space. He can feel her, ready to teleport to him. He's about to grow victorious. He'll have his daughter, and get rid of the personality he implanted inside her. He'll mentally age her, have her grow up. And then he'll visit his wife with her in tow. This is how he can have his family back.

And things begin to shatter as the purple-haired hussy locks his daughter into a sleeper hold, and the brunette bitch suddenly does something, and he finds himself forced back, fully back in Paragon.

"God damn it," he swears. He knows what he has to do, and so he does it. Reaching out again and entering his daughters mind. And he's there, everything visually matching for frame of reference.

A large grassy plain is before him. With a large wall looming in the distance, bristling with spikes. He appears on this plain, fully realized, though perhaps looking a little younger. We all see ourselves how we wish we were, after all. He waves his hand, and the spikes on the wall disappear, and so does the wall. And beyond that wall is something he can barely comprehend. A vaguely humanoid shape, colored purple and silver and in flames. Every plant on the plains bent towards it, he himself can feel the pull. And as he walks closer, he notices...This is not what he created. This is something more.

Angie frowns, growing angry as the wall comes down. She wanted to hide...And now she's here, on the dark streets, facing down some stranger who obviously wants to fuck with her. Fine.

"Who are you," she asks, her voice echoing down the streets towards him. Off to the side, at the entrance of an alley, she notes the unconscious form of little Angie. Or Innigie as Mina calls her.

"I am your creator," says the man, walking closer.

"Oh. My father. Mina said I broke you out," Angie says, sounding amazingly calm and collected.

"Yes, you did. I thank you for that. And now, I say, It's time to come home, Violet." The last six words come out of his mouth strongly, echoing, words of power on this psychic plane inside Angie's mind.

And Angie winces, visibly hurt. Her form almost splitting in two but she grits her teeth and forces herself together. The fires around her burning brighter. And, as she stands there, he looks shocked, "You aren't what I created. What are you?"

Angie floats closer to him, "I am your daughter, Father. I've been in this body for 16 years, I've been in charge, in one way or another. Why are you here?"

He stares, at a loss for words for many seconds, before he gathers himself together. Angie watches him, realizing there's about to be a fight and having no idea how to go about it like this. Her Father says to her, "I came for my daughter. You were only to protect her body. It is hers now."

The fires around Angie are burning hotter and brighter now, "No, it is mine." She turns to face the little girl, and says simply, "See?" And with that a flare streaks out of Angie, arch-shaped, and hits the girl dead on, incinerating her. Erasing her from Angie's mental scape.

Her father stares in shock. "Violet," he cries out, and then himself vanishes from Angie's mentalscape, escaping back to wherever he is hiding.

Angie looks around her own mind. Things becoming blurry as her body begins to wake, but she realizes now she is alone in there. It is just her.

And hours since she fell unconscious, she wakes up.

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