Esther had a few different opinions of what just transpired, watching bits of glitter seem to fall from the spacew where the pixie thing had crashed through different points in reality.    She was grateful that the little thing had been there for her.  She felt strong again.  She even smiled, leaning her head back on the wall, allowing herself a small and blessedly guiltless moment to remember the beautiful girl she'd just enjoyed.  That rush of power, dominating her.  The way their coupling had bent their very understand of self.  And the feelings..  god, the sensations!  Just recalling what it felt like, seeing such a vision on the ground, pulling her dress down under her beautiful swaying breasts, as she locked her lips between Esther's spread legs..<br/><br/>Esther breathed outward, slowly, with a lustful quiver.  She felt her thighs tense, her hands wanting to crawl down and nestle amorously between them.  Revisiting those thoughts much more than this would lead to her pleasuring herself on the floor of a putrid smelling bathroom.  That thought alone raised another question, but she cast it from her mind, lifting herself up.  Being the theater-lover she was, the symbolic meaning of standing up from this space was not lost on her.  She'd nearly given into sadness here, to hopelessness, and very nearly undone the amazing sense of invincibility that she had sold her soul, or whatever, to attain, not even a full 24 hours ago.  She stared at the bit of floor she'd been sitting on for just a moment, and then smirked, leaving it.<br/><br/>Esther stepped out into the late afternoon sun.  This shebang was going to happen tonight, and Esther needed to be ready for it.  She thought, distantly, that Olivia might actually be in trouble.  That her feisty little spirit was actually responding to some very real sense of danger and not just her personal drama.  She had mentioned the coming of the Spider Man.  Esther narrowed her eyes at that, pondering.  Even if it were the case, and Olivia was in a pickle, Esther had no way of knowing.  Esther knew Olivia lived in a big, fancy house somewhere in posche town, but she didn't know which big fancy house it was.  That tore it.  Esther needed a damn phone.<br/><br/>She made her money, true enough.  It was the fact that her mother needed so much help that prevented her from getting the things she needed.  Esther thought about it.  She could use her abilities, more than likely, to get someone to just give her a phone.  Should she?  It was honestly a difficult decision, as she handed the restroom key back to the shady looking fellow behind the desk.  A scruffy, midwestern redneck fellow with beady eyes and few words.  His name-tag said Albert.  He took the key and looked her over, once, sending a curious feeling into the roots of Esther's hair.  She could do it, get him to give her a phone for a small favor.  But she decided against it.  After Kaylee, she simply didn't want the next sexual image to include someone like him.  Besides, the pre-paid phones here were bogus.  If she was really interested in getting some god hardware, she'd go to a Mac Store, or something comparable.<br/><br/>She got out of there fast enough, moving down the road.  The phone could wait.  She'd look Red Alert up in the phone-book when she got home, if she still felt concerned.  More importantly, she had other things on her shopping list to acquire.  She meandered through the streets a little as the daylight faded, coming onto Arlington Hardware.  It was locally owned by a Mrs. Beatrice Tatum, but she was hardly ever there.  Her husband, Anderson, was a war veteran who hadn't come back to a particularly warm household.  The Tatums almost never interacted when they didn't have to, and given the curious name of the store, everyone simply referred to the bitter war-hero behind the counter as 'The Major.'<br/><br/>Esther walked in with a small feeling of tension.  She hadn't exactly come here for nails and thumbtacks, after all.  The Major seemed to catch her unease, glowering at her and flicking a screen on to his right.  The Major, unsurprisingly, didn't have an particular fondness for hippies, and certainly not for any of them that looked pensive when they entered his store.  Esther scowled slightly, making her way down the isles without acknowledging him.  She could make him a slave as well, she thought.  He was a handsome middle-aged man, with a thick blonde mustache and large shoulders.  His leg was apparently wounded, but she imagined the right parts still worked.  There were worse ways to lose her cross-sexual virginity.  With a sigh, she emptied the thoughts from her head.  Was it always going to be like this, from now on?  Wondering which people she was willing to pork to gain full control of their will?<br/><br/>Behind the shelves was another man.  She knew his first name was David, but he usually preferred Dave or Davey Dee.  He was a lanky, unprepossessing man with a thick country accent.  A true redneck, and skeevy to boot.  The Major and Davey Dee had some sort of arrangement between the two of them, although Esther could only guess how the ex-military shop owner had ever come to trust the boney man who stocked his shelves.  Esther kept walking, moving to a counter and picking out some bottles of red spray-paint.  To be honest, she wasn't sure if paint or bug-spray would work better for this.  The idea she had came from Watchmen, which was pretty pitiful as an advice on tactical hardware.  But a limited flame thrower might be a good idea.  She had the uncomfortable feeling that she was in over her head about this, but reminded herself of how she'd left the bathroom floor already.  She could do this.  She could do anything.  ..But, to be safe, she decided to get one of each.<br/><br/>Next, she was moving down to look at the propane torches.  They were much more expensive than the sprays, and she contemplated them a little, before sensing a presence behind her and to her left.  Davey Dee, with his huge yellow teeth and lanky slack, was standing there looking at her with a sneer.  "Fine day, ain't it?"  He said, trying to come off as personable and not doing particularly well.  Esther nodded and said something that neither of them would ever remember, turning back to the torches.<br/><br/>"Got yerself a bug problem, thare."  He said easily.<br/>"Ah, yes.  Just wanting to get something to help with the ants."<br/>"Yeah, them's a han'ful, shor nuff."  There was something cocky about the way he said that.  "Somethin' else Ah can help ya fain'?"<br/>"Well, no."  Esther replied, uncomfortable.  "I think I've got it.  But thanks."<br/>"Funneh thin' 'bout ants, ma'am, if ya don' main' my sayin'.  Propane's a pahr'ful bad idea for gettin' rid of 'em."<br/>Esther turned and looked curiously at him.  Something was off about his expression.  Snide, cocky.  Even leering, but not in a perverted way.  "I know that." she snapped, getting irritated.  "The propane torch is for a different project."<br/>"Aw!  Yer a right industrious lady." he said with a toothy grin.  "Whachyoo plannin' on usin' it fer?"<br/>"Not really any of your business." she said tersely.  She didn't usually get harassed by this guy, but somehow he wasn't taking the hints.  He also seemed.. familiar, somehow.<br/>Davey Dee crossed him arms slowly.  "It's alright, ma'am, Ah don' mean nothin' by tha'." he soothed.  "Heard tell o' some junkies, done burned theyselves with it, 'sall.  Jus' lookin' out fer ya."<br/>"Excuse me?" she replied, honestly insulted.  "What the hell?  You think just because I'm a hippy I'm going to burn my face off with a blowtorch?  Are you serious?"<br/>"Ah don' know nuthin' 'bout whar you're plannin' t' aim tha' foir, ma'am.  Bu' two cans o' spray an' some propane do not a good evenin' make."<br/>Esther started a little.  "..What, do you really think I'm planning on using all of these together?"<br/>Davey Dee leaned forward, and whispered, his smirk curling into a gleefully condescending shape.  "Let's jus' say tha' yer a pahr'ful unpredictable lady, Esther."  Esther's eyes went wide.  She recognized him now.  She had never made the connection before that very moment.  He noticed her recognition, and his smile broke into an even wider, more sinister expression.  One that simply said everything.<br/><em>Gotchya.</em><br/>David.  Fucking.  Dyle.<br/><br/>Esther's exit had not be particularly graceful.  She'd given him a very cross look, as if to say she was offended by him, and then set the spray cans down and simply made for the door.  Davey Dee watched her the whole time, grinning.  "Jus' come back na', if ya need an'thin'." he called after her.  Esther gave a sour look to The Major as she passed the counter.  The Major's usually stern expression was genuinely concerned, darting from her and back to where Davey was standing.  It didn't matter.  Smiley's hick brother had made her, and that was as embarrassing as it was dangerous.  She made for the door, and exited.  Billy's warning about sleeping around too much came back to her, bitterly.<br/><br/>The other hardware store was across town.  She really didn't feel like walking that far any longer, instead deciding to head home.  There was some bug-spray there, after all, and she had one of those long tubed candle lighters.  Not to mention, she had other weapons if she needed them.  Esther crossed the road, moved briskly down the sidewalk, and was home before the sun finished setting over the tree line.  Her mother was asleep on the sofa again.  Typical.<br/><br/>(More to follow tomorrow!)