Time had passed since Scrooge had purchased the haunted mansion - a long stretch of it. Magica had abandoned any sense of time-keeping ever since she had been locked away, but she knew it had to be a significant amount since Scrooge first stepped in. He made for an excellent servant, allowing her to stay updated with the rest of the world while they searched for the key. And his reward for his help... was to cut off the ties to his family and make him starve for attention.
She was not a nice lady.
But, as these things happen, the more she played with him, the more fascinated she became with him. He became less of a servant and more of a pet - she was aware of the irony, given her chosen form - and desire had started to stir. Soon she'd have her real body back, but when she was flesh and blood again, would those desires be returned? She certainly had no way of tempting him while looking like a pussy-cat. Thankfully she was a creative sort.
On one night of a full moon, she patiently waited for him to fall asleep. It wasn't the first time she used her magic to look into his dreams, but they had always been for research purposes - to know what to say to keep him isolated from others. Now would be a little... different. It would take a bit more force, perhaps make his morning wake seem more suspicious, but what was the point of living without a thrill every now and then?
A shining gold ballroom, where masks and elegance were everywhere to be seen. Some of the faces would be familiar to the old man, others were blurs behind disguises. Magica allowed him to bask in this setting at first, let him adjust, let him think everything was perfect and natural.
He enjoyed the chase - she knew this from what she'd seen of his memories with Goldie. So instead of immediately honing on him, she let herself merely "be" in the crowd. Let him find her. Let him see her. Let him decide.
She was not a nice lady.
But, as these things happen, the more she played with him, the more fascinated she became with him. He became less of a servant and more of a pet - she was aware of the irony, given her chosen form - and desire had started to stir. Soon she'd have her real body back, but when she was flesh and blood again, would those desires be returned? She certainly had no way of tempting him while looking like a pussy-cat. Thankfully she was a creative sort.
On one night of a full moon, she patiently waited for him to fall asleep. It wasn't the first time she used her magic to look into his dreams, but they had always been for research purposes - to know what to say to keep him isolated from others. Now would be a little... different. It would take a bit more force, perhaps make his morning wake seem more suspicious, but what was the point of living without a thrill every now and then?
A shining gold ballroom, where masks and elegance were everywhere to be seen. Some of the faces would be familiar to the old man, others were blurs behind disguises. Magica allowed him to bask in this setting at first, let him adjust, let him think everything was perfect and natural.
He enjoyed the chase - she knew this from what she'd seen of his memories with Goldie. So instead of immediately honing on him, she let herself merely "be" in the crowd. Let him find her. Let him see her. Let him decide.