Lana Lang

Are you okay?

[ooc: Dated back to yesterday. Also putting this verse on hold until further notice. SPN kills me.]

I had planned on going out of town this weekend, but plans have changed. I really don't know how available I'll be, though. I've got a lot on my mind. And before you do, don't ask. Just don't.

Anna Morasca absit_omens
Sam Winchester likely_evil
Dean Winchester hasperkynipples
Clark Kent solarsentinel
Chloe Sullivan reporter_chloe
Jimmy Olsen metroshutterbug

SAMMY!

"Anima Remitto!"

With a spatter of blood and a phrase, the dark enchantress sealed herself with a mark that ensured her return and laughed in amusement as her persecutors dragged her toward the pyre. They believed they had claimed a great victory in the eyes of their Lord, but oh how very foolish they were.

"Madelyn Hibbins. Brianna Withridge. Countess Marguerite Isobel Thoreaux. You have been found guilty of committing the darkest art -- witchcraft. For this affront against God, I hereby condemn you to burn in the fires of Hell in which you so eagerly seek communion."

Isobel stood tall and proud as she and her friends were sentenced, giggling quietly to herself, even as she felt the heat rising. How very foolish indeed.

"You think this ends with a lick of flame? I sleep but a while. And when the time is appointed, my heir will awaken me. And I will have vengeance!"

Her laughter rose like the smoke that surrounded her, a cackle that brought a murmur through the crowd and parents to pull their children closer. She would return to claim the Stones of Power and take her place as ruler of this world, and then they would pay. All of them would pay.


Lana sat straight up in her bed, eyes wide open and heart pounding. After only a second to catch her breath, she was practically sprinting to the full length mirror on the other side of the room and lifting her shirt to examine her back.

Nothing.

"Oh thank God!"

Those words had never been so sincere.

She crumbled to her knees and stayed there for a few minutes. She knew why she was dreaming about Isobel after all these years. Now that she knew there was more out there, more of the supernatural than she'd seen, of course it would bring everything back to the surface. That was the nature of dreams.

She touched a hand to her shoulder. Maybe she should get that tattoo, the one Sam had. At least then she could remove possession from her list of worries.

Lana wanted out of her house and back to the office, like now. She hadn't spent this much time in her still very new home since her vacation, which was boring enough on its own. Now that she thought about it, she'd never even had a house warming for this place, just told the important people in her life where she could be found. She had been so focused on her work that she hadn't even thought about it.

God, she was turning into a workaholic.

But she enjoyed her work. Didn't that make it okay?

No. No, she knew it didn't. She needed to have time for other things, for a life.

For the times when Sam would show up unexpected and make love to her.

Sam wasn't here right now, though. She was alone, laying back on the couch, cuddling her bear and waiting on her guest to arrive. Where the hell was Clark?