'Was there nothing they could do?' The Italian Monarch's words reverberated within the depths of the young witch's mind as she feigned some helplessness her gender was so known for. There was, she was certain plenty they could do and yet, the woman was hardly inclined to lift even one manicured finger so long as there were other far more capable within the room. After all, Brennan had killed the likes of such demonic creatures before, had he not? Surely he was more than capable of doing so again when equipped with a blade that near hummed with magic. She hardly anticipated the reverberating sound of damage that echoed within the home, however, the woman leaning back upon her heels to glance inquisitively down the hallway, only for the stormy hue of her irises to fall upon what looked like....a tail? Oh dear. A soft sigh left the young woman's lips as she resigned herself to assisting in this battle, as much as she was perhaps inclined not to. The last thing she wanted, after all, was to find her dress sullied in any sense. Lackadaisically, the young witch announced to the Italian royalty her very intention, only for the intense hue of her own grey-blue irises to stare just pass the two men at life forces only she could see. How interesting...perhaps they could be of use after all.
Her slender fingers slowly reached forward with her palm facing up as she inquired to those intangible souls their desire to assist. Her raised brow was met only with the baffled glimpses of the two men ahead of her and yet they were hardly the subject of her intrigue. Oh no, it was their ghosts that so fascinated her. She watched as the peculiar appearing Italian approached her, his hand reaching out for her own. That simple touch held every ounce of her affinity, pulling them from that ephemeral world and into the one of the living. She watched as that almost wicked gleam to the man's eye turned into a near joker grin, that laughter spilling from his lips but moments later as he was given some vague form of life. She watched as he pivoted upon the balls of his feet to face the Italian Monarch. His very presence seemed to radically affect Dorian, the King staring at that ghost attached to him with wide eyes. Serafina could hardly help that soft giggle of bemusement as the Monarch stumbled backward and into the wall behind him. The foreign words upon the man's lips were nothing short of accusatory and yet their very meaning all but lost upon the witch as Dorian echoed a single name. Alfonso. This could be useful. Quickly, Serafina intervened before her ghost could get into whatever unfinished business kept him from crossing over into the afterlife. The very command of her voice drew Alfonso's attention as she gestured vaguely down the hallway. It was surely her power alone that prompted the battle-worn Italian to give in to the witch's command, the man dragging his sword against the hardwood floor in some petty vengeance as he made his way into the very fray.
Alfonso, however, was hardly the only ghost for her to command, her hand reached out for another being so filled with emotions of jealousy, anger, and dejection that she made the perfect conduit for a poltergeist. Her slender, feminine fingers reached out to grace the witch's own as Serafina pulled the young woman too into that waking world. She all but ignored those very words to stop that seemed to echo within the home. It was too late to stop. Not now, not when that second figure had already been given the vaguely transparent outline of tangibility. Like the man before her, she too turned to face the Italian couple, her feminine voice holding but one word within it. The woman's hand reached for the vampire and he seemed all too eager to meet her own touch, almost abandoning his post at his husband's side. Her eyebrow rose as she listened to the franticness within Dorian's voice - the very likes of which went altogether ignored by the Englishman. Serafina was hardly prepared for the ebony dagger that whizzed through the air, passing through the body of the ghost only to lodge itself into the wall the witch herself stood beside. Well...that wouldn't have been good. Immediately the girl reached out to ensnare the wrist of her ghost, just as Sebastian turned to chastise his own husband. Softly, Serafina gave her newly created ghost an ultimatum, the Victorian woman giving way to the witch's persistent pull as the woman purposefully guided her into the hallway and away from the feuding lovers.
The witch all but ignored that cry to wait, the woman moving purposefully down the hallway and into the room those monstrous howls seemed to reverberate from. Her stormy gaze fell upon the readied stance of her once lover, only to watch as that tail swooped into to knock her warlock off his feet. She could hardly help the bemused simper upon her features, even as the woman rolled her eyes. Really, she'd think he'd be attentive to the massive creature in front of him rather than concern himself with her. She, after all, had her own form of protection. Carefully, Serafina skirted the room with the woman in tow behind her, only to position herself just behind the grand piano that decorated on side of the room. She placed that woman in front of her, sweeping aside that ghostly hair. The Italian already had enough anger as it was, she could feel it burning within him but the woman in front of her....oh no, Serafina had to stroke that fire - that one she was all too capable of doing. "How do you know Sebastian? Were you two lovers?" She watched as the Englishwoman glanced behind her only to hold up her hand and the figment of that marriage band upon her ring. "No....he is my husband." A small almost knowing smile crossed the witch's features. "He was your husband...but he replaced you with someone else...hasn't he? That must have been hard to watch, wasn't it? Seeing him marry someone else? Seeing him sleep with someone else...? Seeing him love someone else...." Her words trailed off, the girl so purposefully stroking those flames of jealousy and the hint of anger as she whispered that purposeful descent into the woman's ear, gathering those very ghostly energies until the piano before them seemed to rise in her very anger - the Englishwoman lashing out on the only piece of furniture present she knew her husband had always loved more than life itself. The piano.
Job well done. A small smug simper toyed at the woman's features, even in spite of the vampire himself entering the room, quite on cue. The piano slammed into the scorpion's hide, the pieces of it scattering upon the floor in a haphazard spray of strings and wood. Serafina hardly faulted her warlock for mistaking the responsibilty of that new insturmental assault. After all, what a better way for a scorned lover to take revenge than to destroy her husband's things? Was that not the olden equivalent to keying his car and slashing his tires? The onslaught, however, seemed to do little more than anger the beast as it failed beneath the barrage of those insturments, it's tail nearly sideswiping the warlock entirely. A glimpse of concern filled the young witch's gaze and yet, Brennan seemed more than prepared for that manuver. He lifted that ebony steel just in time with the movement of that tail, slicing through the scorpion's underside only to fill the room with that sulfuric tail as the beast's tail was near cut in half - it's blood oozing upon the once pristine marble floors underfoot. She was hardly attentive, admittedly, to the vampire that moved with care around the room towards her, nor the Italian King that had taken that rather inconvenient moment to step into the doorway. Rather, it was Brennan's voice that ensnared the attention of the whole room, her own stormy eyes shifting from the beast towards the man within it's path only for her hand to rise to her chin in a wholly bespelled, contemplative manner. Oh dear. This would not do well to have the King of Italy slaughtered within his own home with their involvement. Brennan would never forgive himself...