Andrea had never been in a fight before. Her mother had given her advice here and there, often doing certain things to try and fill in the gap left by Andrea lacking a male role model. Her uncle had died before she was even born, her father was absent before even that, and the only other Bordeaux she knew, outside of her mother, was her grandma. It was why she loved basketball, had a passing knowledge of baseball, and hated the Cowboys. One of those things she felt Andrea would've known had she had a man around was fighting, for some reason, and that did not last long. It was the only time her mother had ever laid a hand on her, when she tried to teach Andrea how to throw a kick. In truth, Andrea wanted to learn how to punch some more, but her mother had emphasized the importance of being able to land a kick once she got a jab and hook down pat.
"If a man comes for you, Andrea, grab the nearest object and hit him with it. If you can't find nothing, a punch from you won't do nothing. Kicking his damn head off will though."
Andrea, as teenagers were known to do, was being difficult. Arguing that a punch was easier and therefore she should be focusing more on them.
"I wanna punch someone's head off," Andrea said, "What are the chances I land a kick versus a punch, momma?"
Momma sighed. "I'm not saying that, Andrea. I am saying focus on jabbing for now. But incorporate more kicks. You have long legs, like me, strong ones too. So use them. Kick low when they coming in, jab to get distance and get out of danger, and a head kick as a...." Her mother stopped when she spotted Andrea's eyebrow's furrowed and raised an eyebrow of her own, "What you gawking at now?"
"Where'd you learn all this?"
Her mother pondered the question a moment before shrugging, "I grew up with a brother and a dad. Now hush up, don't worry about where I learnt that from, and worry about learning it from me." Andrea was still skeptical, and her mother noted it. Antonina Bordeaux cocked her head and looked at Andrea for a long moment before taking a few steps back and waving Andrea forward, "Come on then."
Andrea frowned and moved out of the fighting stance that her mother had put her in, "...What?"
Her mother shrugged, "You're hardheaded, like your mother." There was a flash in Antonina's eyes and a small smirk stretched onto her pretty face, "Oh? I see, you're scared?'
Andrea's mom was tall, like her, but had maybe an inch on her at that age. She was of a fuller figure, as opposed to Andrea, who ran in track meets for her school, and was good enough for it to be her plan B for college if her academics did not pan out. Her mother had strong arms and a strong back, from where she had no idea, and long legs like hers. But Andrea was young, and youth is a drug.
She grinned and returned to the fighting stance, "Fine. But don't go crying when--"
Her mother came in and faked a jab that she overreacted to, and so, Andrea never saw the kick coming that sent her forward swinging across her body and leading to her falling onto her ass. She winced and looked up at her mother, who just stood there and looked at her with not an ounce of emotion in her eyes. Andrea gritted her teeth and got back up, moving to press her mother this time, launching a poor jab that her mother moved her head to the left, her eyes focused on Andrea as she moved towards her. Andrea tried to follow up the jab by throwing a right hook, but her stabilizing foot had barely touched the ground when she felt the sting of a kick send her tumbling again. But this time, Andrea never got to touch the ground. Instead, a hand powered by a hydraulic press had wrapped itself around her neck, and she barely registered that she was being choked when she felt her wrist being wrapped up by a python and her body was being thrown around like a hoodie in a washing machine. She was thrown over her mother's shoulder and slammed into the grass in their backyard. Andrea barely had enough time to gather her bearings when she felt herself being dragged by her ankle and pulled close enough so that her mother had her shoulders pinned beneath her weight.
Even though she was now crying and thrashing around, trying to free herself, Andrea would never forget the look her mother had given her. Her eyes were colder than a homeless man's winter, and her expression was blank - as if hurting her was as meaningless as an umbrella with a hole.
"You know that I am bigger than you," Her mother said, plainly, "So why were you going on the offensive, Andrea? Why would you get close to me of your own..." Like a fog being lifted, her sobs finally got through to her, and her mother's eyes softened. The rest of that day was filled with apologies and cuddling and love-bombing the likes of which could only come from an adulterer's heart.
Andrea had grown up wrestling and playing with most of the boys of her neighborhood, and every summer, they started to go easier and easier on her, until her teasing got to them enough to make them try. So, she had an idea, at least somewhat, of an idea how it felt like to be manhandled. But what her mother was able to do, whilst seeming to barely be trying, seemed, at the time at least, supernatural. Given what she knew now, Andrea could not help but laugh, even though she was currently hovering three feet off the ground, held up by an invisible source that was in the employ of her bitch of a roommate.
"What is so funny?" Helena asked, glaring up at her.
"Go and fuck yourself." Andrea growled, and instead of it making Helena angry, all that seemed to do was make her frown, "Are you... mocking me?"
The fuck is she talking about? "Obviously, you dumb bi--"
"You cannot stop this," Helena seemed to realize, her head cocking at an odd angle, "Can you?"
Andrea could not or did not want to answer that. And instead, Helena brought her closer towards her, cursing her out (probably) in German as she brought them eye-to-eye.
"Why are you here? Nein, how are you here?"
The choking let up, enough for Andrea to shrug, "Why are any of us here, really? What is the meaning of life, and--"
"Andrea," Helena said calmly. "I will kill you. I am not speaking figuratively either. Continue to annoy me, and I will throw you out that window and kill you."
A shiver went down her spine as it dawned on her how serious Helena was being, and it caused her to gulp, "Okay, okay, put me down please, and I'll tell you."
Helena used her terminator eyes to scan her for any lies, before sighing and allowing Andrea to touch the ground for the first time in a minute. "Answer me. How are you here."
She could have told her quite the tale. A tale involving a Hick magician-trafficker, a bloodline selling itself to an African God, Julian doing Julian things. Quite the story, and she had considered it, for she wanted nothing more than to have someone to unload this onto. But there was something in Helena's tone that hurt, the judgment, the wondering of how a girl like Andrea could ever co-exist with her and Walter and fucking Julian! And so, instead, Andrea said, "When a man loves a woman very much--"
Helena flicked her hand out and Andrea bounced off the wall, thankfully reacting fast enough to shield her head as she fell onto her mattress, Worth it!
She exploded off the mattress, having seen the attack coming, and surprised Helena when she threw her luggage bag at her. The luggage bag was easily dispatched with, using her powers, but Andrea had been fast enough to kick her leg from out under her and slam her down onto the ground in the worst mockery of the judo-throw her mother had shown her. Helena, however, had not been discombobulated enough, and so, Andrea was back to being thrown around like a ragdoll. This time, Helena was not in a forgiving mood, and so, she spent the next minute bouncing Andrea around like a pinball machine, somehow, forced into a washing machine.
Andrea's head slumped as a panting Helena brought them back face-to-face, looking at her with an expression of such disgust that you would've sworn that Andrea had thrown up everywhere, "I need you to listen to me, you dumb American."
She felt her head being lifted so that she was forced to look Helena back in the eye. Andrea had tried to hide the fact that she was crying now, but Helena did not seem to care, "You going to die if you stay here."
She had considered that many times and thought of packing it all up and going back home to be with people she loved. But each time, an image would flash through her mind of Riggs, grinning at her as he made her invisible to the world, "...I am going to die if I don't"
And there it was, the look that she hated more than the expression of disgust. The reason why she had tried to hide the tears, pity, Andrea thought, I fucking hate pity...
Her feet touched the ground again, and that made it even harder to keep the sobs away.
"You are shit out of luck," Helena said, as she walked towards the door, "The year before, only the bottom 5% of the first years were sacrificed to the Source."
Andrea's heart sank, "...What?"
Her emerald eyes looked back at her one last time, "This year, they raised it to 10%. There are 400 students in their first year. I couldn't find six magicians weaker than you, never mind thirty-six. If I were you, I would leave."
She wanted to charge after her and slam her head into the ground, but Andrea was not in the mood to be reminded just how out of her depth she was.
Andrea held herself back, gathering her composure enough to not break down. Why didn't Julian tell me? She wondered, why would he bring me here if I'm just going to be sacrificed anyway?
She had to open the window to stop herself from hyperventilating, allowing fresh magic air to enter her lungs enough to hold her back from collapsing onto the ground. 16-years of life, all that just for this? She wondered, as she looked out at the city she was fated to die in. This, an unfamiliar place filled with gothic architecture, anachronisms, beauty, wonder....
Andrea pinched herself, "Self-pity" she muttered, remembering Briar's expression and the fake-ick it gave her, "I have a whole year to catch up!" There isn't a thing she could not do if she put her mind to it.
"I'm going to find a library, read up on what I must do, go and force Julian to teach me magic, Bing-bang-boom, I'll be safe from sacrifice. No Game Seven needed."
Andrea's future husband should be thankful she is not toxic, because if she could gaslight herself like this, oh boy, he would be in trouble. But she was not going to question her grasp on reality right now. What she needed to do was push forward, despite her current situation. She put on a hoodie, in case there were any bruises, and tied up her sneakers to go out and explore the city and find the library, set on not giving the likes of Julian and Helena the ability to be right. Andrea wondered, momentarily, where she got this optimism from, before smiling, I'm hardheaded, like my momma...