"Brooke! There you are girl. We're gonna skip, this place reeks of BO and momma needs her tapioca. Boba place on 7th?" A tap against her shoulder, Brooke turns to face her group with an an apologetic smile. They're only in here because she wants to find a gift for her boyfriend but the girl should have known it'd be a hard sell. If she's being honest, Brooke isn't exactly thrilled to be here herself, oh why couldn't she bag a movie jock instead of this new wave of nerdy hunks?

"Ahaha, go ahead and get me a strawberry milk tea wouldya? I'll catch up in a sec so go ahead, not sure I can last too much longer myself!" Dramatically pinching her nose, Brooke brushes long wavy blonde out of her face and curses herself playing the good girlfriend for the first time in her nineteen years. It's not like she's serious about this boy, knowing college romance is about as doomed as the circus show her parents call a marriage. No, nothing so delusional and sappy, Brooke only has one thing on her mind that helps her endure this virginial gathering place. The great motivator. 

"Seriously? You're down bad, girl. His dick better be magic if he's reading back to front picture books in the downtime. Well suit yourself I guess, I'm totally charging double on that tea as compensation for all the weird looks I've clocked from these creeps." Tatiana smirks, accentuating her exit with a wink as her cronies follow closely behind in a sea of titter. Brooke pouts a little, privately, calling bullshit on her best friend getting a single creepy stare. In fact the clientele of this comic book shop are markedly mundane, stereotype is dead. Well not quite, there is one standout. 

A scrawny girl with unbrushed raven hair partially obscured by her wide brimmed hat, its pointed tip weighed down by silver bell. The girl has her arms crossed as she leans against the store counter, her loose black shirt riddled with as many holes as there are tears in her leggings. Even her long, high platform demonias are beat, the black painted clasps mostly as silver as the bell that rings as she shakes her head impatiently. She taps the counter with unkempt nails, signing off fingers that emerge from fishnet gloves. What a mess this girl is, though Brooke supposes it's certainly a striking enough aesthetic to trend in the right circles. The blonde does at least find the backpack worn by this girl rather endearing, even if the straps are coming off; A fat toad, slightly slumped by the way she lets it hang loose down by lower back. The flap to open it is the toad's mouth, admittedly rather cute. 

As Brooke begins to wonder if the interior of the cutesy rucksack is a soft red to represent the animal's innards, she watches the store owner return to deliver bad news. "None left I'm afraid, they sold out pretty fast but I did have some on reserve until like five minutes ago, shit luck I'm afraid. No seriously, you're always coming in here late afternoon on a launch day just missing the last of our stock haha, you must be cursed." The owner seems a laid back sort if he can talk to a customer like that, but Brooke figures they must be somewhat acquainted if the girl is dropping by regularly. Still, the real question is why the blonde is getting distracted eavesdropping when she's a milk tea awaiting her. Watching somebody else's misfortune distracts her from the fact she completely forgot which volume numbers she was supposed to buy, sending a subtle text to try and suss it out gives her ample time to play voyeur a little longer to the perverse sadness of this place's usual customer base. 

"It'll be you who is cursed if you don't wipe that smile off your pudgy face. Can you go check again? I'll pay double for a reserved figure, well no I can't afford that with such shallow funding however I shall remain in your debt until I find the means to pay it off. How does that suit you, sir?" The eccentric girl slams her purse onto the counter and bows her head, hat slumping forwards with another silver ring. 

While the store owner gives her a look of exasperation, having no doubt dealt with such amateur dramatics in the past from this girl, Brooke cannot contain her laughter even with palm over mouth to desperately try at suppression. Her attempt is in vain, the blonde almost in tears at the scene before her. While she prides herself on being far less bitchy and cliquey than her bestie Tatiana, Brooke is no angel, she's always been the type to laugh along with bullies even if she never picked on anybody directly by herself. Until now a passive parasite, but perhaps Tati's been rubbing off on her. 

The girl at the counter turns towards the source of that poorly restrained giggling, furrowing her brow. "And what's so funny, hm? I can curse you too, I've the means and the time!" Taking in her front, Brooke notes those short but messy bangs that nearly cut past her eyes. Eyes so rich an amber they almost appear to glow in this dim light. Lips not painted but naturally dark, curled into a confident smile. "Oh, you're... hmm." With a pause, the girl inspects Brook like she sits pressed under a glass slide, sudden scientific curiosity sharpening the lens. "You look just like her..." She gestures to the posters on the wall behind the counter of some cutesy anime girl making a heart with her fingers, text above it reading. "Limited stock, only one per buyer. Releasing September 25th. Magical Girl Bravery!"

Things just keep getting better, Brooke recalls a shy girl she shared a class with in high school who barely spoke a word to anyone. Then one day Tatiana caught her engaging in "Anime Roleplay" with her male counterpart at the bottom of their class's social hierarchy. Brooke only felt bad for laughing when the girl stopped showing up to class, she was a neighbour and her parents made the innocent blonde bring homework assignments and hollow sentiments from her classmates every other day. It made Brooke resent these social rejects, laughing at such embarrassing behaviour is only natural and yet they win in the end with that pathetic sympathy play. Trading one roleplay for another, she supposes bitterly. 

Standing before her is a reminder of that meek neighbour, a girl she only got out of pampering like a spoilt brat when an attempt on her lips was made. Go figure she was a lesbian too, anything to be different. "Look. I don't mean to be rude, but you look about my age and the way you're acting is soooo embarrassing. I guess it's a bit rich of me to say when my friends just ditched but it's no wonder you're in here by yourself, though I suppose you freaks do mob together on occasion. We have an anime club at our college I can hook you up with them but if I were you I'd spend the money you'd have wasted on some overpriced plastic to get yourself a hairbrush and some makeup and for god's sake some new fucking clothes." So much for passive, but Brooke feels so justified in her dismantling of this sunless shut-in who probably only leaves her rancid den on a full moon. Why is it so cathartic to put others down?

The unkempt regular lowers her head, staring down at her demonias as the brim of her witch's hat hides conspiring eyes. She does not collude with a friend, Brooke does have her pegged on that front, but with a familiar all too noncorporeal to be seen with naked eye. Or perhaps hidden in plain sight, for all to see. 

Waaaaaa! Mistreeeeesss! Cries the toad, though none can hear it. If not for Saffron's attuned senses it would fall on deafened ears, instead the girl's lips now curl upwards. Warty the worrywart, she knew he'd take issue with her claiming another for her collection but it isn't a familiar's right to question its summoner's will. Waaaa... I mean sure, the girl's an A-grade bitch there's no denying it. She's nothing to a sicko like you, though. This makes thirteen y'know? Unlucky number, Saff, tread verrrrrrry carefully. Croak!

"Oh Warty, do shut up and oblige my request. A simple misdirection hex is all I ask, even a senile old toad can manage such." The raven haired girl giggles, a little more coldly than Brooke had and that's surely saying something. More a cackle from dry lips, a true witch in the making. Having to share this city with such vapid simpletons makes her act out, especially when her favourite character's statuette is out of stock already. Training ran late as it always does, her own mistress is not as kind to poor Saffron as she is to faithful Warty. No matter, this airhead insulting her shall make for a suitable replacement once the magic is ready to bring her down to size. 

Brooke bursts into giggles again when she catches the young witch talking to herself. "I fucking can't with you people, I'm getting out of here." She'll still get dicked down one way or another tonight, if her man chooses 2D women over her then their relationship is as dead as her parent's love. That's a twofer on the divorce jokes, only natural when she just caught her asshole father with a different mistress to the one she already knew about. The discovery of her mother's mistress was what really threw her, though. Maybe they'll elope to a blue state or something, Brooke hardly cares. 

As the blonde turns to excuse herself before this disheveled larper infects her with pure heart with more neurotic disdain, she suddenly feels something cool and slimy run across her back. The girl shrieks, causing more of a scene than she already had as the familiar's ghostly tongue gives her skin bumps and straightens the hair on her arms and neck. "Wh-What the hell!" She spins on her heels with long nails poised to etch regret into her assailant, but none stand before her save for unassuming Saffron. Even she is too far away and far too motionless as to have assaulted her so. "I-I-I'm leaving... What was that? Ugh... I'm leaving..."

"We get it, you're leaving. Take care not to step on any cracks out there. I'd hate to see any more stress upon your mother's back after the burden she's had to bear raising such misbegotten ilk." Saffron smirks, the magic circle fading against Brooke's back as her body accepts the hex without choice. These normal humans have no magic defences at all, it really is child's play. 

"Tch... Freak." With the last words uttered, Brooke gladly steps out into the dying summer sun to catch up with her friends before their dormitory block's loathsome curfew. 

Saffron sits in her desk chair with knees pulled up to her chest and bare feet planted on the seat's edge. Her toenails are decorated with cracking black paint just like her fingers, the girl having misplaced her spell to restore the nail polish and the bottle to replenish it manually equally as misplaced. Hardly a major concern, in all this mess her room has become finding those two things is rather low in the list of priorities regarding misplaced possessions. At least the girl has memorised her favourite few, the ones she uses to turn these bratty bitches into her prized collectibles. Magical Girl Bravery shall be joining their ranks soon, the young hobbyist can barely contain her excitement. 

Waaaaaaaaaa! Yer twenty-seven, Saff. Ain't it 'bout time you stop livin' like a teenaged girl, eh? It ain't above a witch's apprentice to pick up a few shifts at the burger joint if the alternative is sitting at home readin' dirty comics. Croak!

"I believe I already told you I read them for the plot, but never mind that. Your misdirection hex wasn't poorly cast I trust? If I discover you mixed up your sigils I shall certainly be forced to retire you to the great rest from whence you came." Saffron clicks her tongue, impatient as ever, nails tapping the edge of her desk ceaselessly. 

In timing perfect enough to be considered fate, the weaving of a well written narrative, Saffron hears the door knocker sound three times. Picking her head up and giving predatory smile, the witch snaps her fingers to allow her prey entry. Like lamb to gentle slaughter, Brooke steps through Saffron's apartment with growing confusion as that confounding fog in her head guides every footfall. Bringing her to ruin... to Bravery. 

The door to the darkened bedroom creaks open and in steps Brooke, clutching her head with slowly blinking eyes and gradually returning sense. Misdirection magic is rather potent against weak minds, the girl was helpless to wander in the witch's winding way eventually. "This... this isn't my dorm! I, s-sorry I must have gotten turned around and... wait I remember you... what the---" Brook's voice dies out, the girl suddenly bringing hands to face in shock. 

"Ahh, I can cast my own magic in this unholy sanctum. Much better than relying on reluctant aid from ailing toad. No offence, Warty." Saffron spins in her chair to face her guest head on, admiring that look of shock they always seem to wear. 

"Mmphh?" Desperately, Brooke tries and fails to part lips and speak. Her voice a sealed verse now. 

"What's the matter, girl? Cat got your tongue? In this case I would say very much so, this muting spell is from the school of the cat-eyed witch Hecharone. I like how pretty the cursive in her spellbooks is but it does take some focus to read the words as a result. I think she designed this spell as an answer to the critics who bemoaned such lovely handwriting hehehe..." Saffron places a finger against her lip to think before continuing. "Ah my apologies, I have a habit of talking too much when I've company in my own abode, much easier to speak freely when I've the comfort of my cauldron beside me. And, of course, my girls." The young witch gestures to her shelf in which twelve anime figures stand in various poses. Only when she looks closer does she notice just how realistic they appear, the attention to details even impresses Brooke herself who wouldn't be caught dead admiring this sort of thing. 

Still, the distraction is not nearly enough to still the pounding panic in her heart. Naturally she turns to leave but with a ring of snapping fingers her exit cuts off with a slam. "Not that way, turn around and come here." Saffrons commanding words are like a serpent slithering in through ear and coiling her thoughts. It hisses and beckons, Brooke hopeless against such venomous control. A seizure of will imposed by magical threat, she feels as though her mind itself would become forfeit should she deny the softly spoken order. 

"Good, such bravery befitting of your new namesake. I'm really taken with you. Your appearance I mean, the rest of you I could do without. Or I would be saying that if you hadn't antagonised me quite so cuttingly, tell me, does trampling on the feelings of others you assess to be beneath you bring as much sick joy to you as it does to me?"

"I... Yes... It makes me feel better. Wait! I can sp---"

"Only when spoken to, that's how the spell works. It's a truth serum too, you can only speak the honest truth to me. I'm glad I got to help you feel better for a brief moment, then, because you will be making me feel better for a long while from today. It's only fair, no? Don't answer that I cannot pretend to care for your opinion. I might regurgitate my muffin and I was rather fond of it, the server had pretty eyes."

Saffron the witch twirls crooked hazel in her fingers, a receptacle for magic known as wand by those in her community. The hollow wood channels spells so well in such proximity to her well prepared cauldron, an atelier of sweet spellcraft in which desire bubbles. A new toy shall be created, alchemically, through a fair exchange. Brooke for Bravery, none shall be the wiser. "You are probably wanting to ask so many questions of your own, so allow me to answer those I can be bothered to ascertain and subsequently entertain." Dry lips curl into cracked smirk, the witch forcing Brooke further forwards and then down onto her knees by the girl's raised feet. 

"Yes magic is real, let us get the obvious one out of the way. Unless you'd like to confess that you kiss my foot out of choice rather than woven compulsion?" That smirk grows ever wider as Brooke reluctantly leans forwards to plant her lips against the top of Saffron's toes, showing them respect while her eyes begin to force a weak glare. "Yes, that's a good girl. I've your free will in a vice, if you resist too much I'll end up crushing it completely so do keep that in mind hehe... where was I? Ah, what else would you be asking me. Well, you probably want to know what I plan to do with you. Is it revenge for your rudeness? Not likely, I'd have probably led you here even if you'd shown me kindness if I am to be honest. You just look the part and I missed out on my chance to buy the real thing. How must it feel to be the cheap imitation, the knockoff, of a plastic heroine?"

"Hmmph?" The blonde squirms, trying to wrest those obediently knelt legs back under her control so that she may run away. Instead she helplessly leans in for another kiss, rouge lips reverently touching cracked black in little acts of surrender she cannot resist the urge to perform. 

"Oh I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry I'm just really excited couldn't you tell? I've even chosen to forgive you for mouthing off earlier, I suppose it's all you petty mundane humans can do to reign in some sense of superiority. This, this, is real power over others."

For a moment Brooke wonders, fears, what Saffron might be referring to in her last statement. Then it hits her, only when those lips meet the skin at the top of her captor's foot. Ah, why did it feel so good just now, thinks the girl with flushing skin. Whatever magic just claimed her, it has begun to make her enjoy it when she kisses Saffron's foot. It floods her with pleasure and robs her of it just as quick, only with her lips against the other does such euphoria linger. How cruel, how confounding... how calculating. 

"As I was saying before you started distracting me by getting off to this, I've chosen to make you the alternative in face of my abject failure to procure the limited collector's figurine of Magical Girl Bravery. Oh she's so cute, it'll take some work to make you match that aspect but everything else is there save of course for outfit and accessories. Oh and of course, that pretty pose."

Saffron inspects her property for a moment, before lightly slapping her forehead in mocking facepalm. "One more thing, you're simply too large to fit on my shelf. I shall see to that first, the spell has been cooking for an hour or so I believe it may be ready!" A spin in her chair to rob Brooke of those feet she forgot to resist the placating pleasure of, a self pacifying pedicure she gave into giving with vibrant red kisses. It made her so weak and now with them gone she only feels shame, a sultry shame that in turn only conjures further weakness. The girl suffers and enjoys this silent cycle of defeat as her proclaimed owner retrieves the more complex spell from the skin that coats her bubbling cauldron, sigils having risen and settled and now twirl around that crooked hazel ready to be cast.

"This is a scaling spell, it shouldn't hurt but you should pray I've not misplaced a sign in the circle lest I accidentally apply a skewing spell in scale's stead! What wretched abomination might you then become, an exterior to match the misery inside. Don't worry I'll be seeing to that too, all in good time." As her wand's wetted tip touches against Brooke's forehead, the girl begins to shrink in an instant. "This should bring you to around a one eighth scale, at least I hope so if my collection is to remain consistent. I soaked the spell just long enough, any longer and you could well end up another lost possession in this cluttered sanctum of mine."

Unable to stop her sudden scaling, Brooke shrinks down with increasing velocity before it begins to slow approaching Saffron's predicted size. Perfectly measured, the blonde's shrinkage ends with her the same scale as those twelve others far above her, the girl now realising what they really are. Is that really to be her fate, too? Instinctively she tilts her head up to gaze at intimidating amber looming ahead, Saffron's eyes narrowing and her grin growing dangerously wide. "Ah, you're perfect!" The witch weaves a simple levitation spell to retrieve her new property from the ground where her own clothes are scattered, admiring the object's miniaturised body with her fingers without much thought for how it must feel. "My new pretty toy, not that I intend to play with you of course. Not much anyway, figurines are intended for display purposes as I'm sure you well know... ehe, I'm so happy. Now that your features are smaller the minor discrepancies between you and Bravery are practically unnoticeable and nothing I can't quickly fix."

Brooke feels impossibly large fingers holding her, squeezing her, prying her legs apart and bending her arms. All she can do is wait for the magic to make her feel good again, ready to surrender to it all too willingly despite her fear and pride. Perhaps because of it. Living as a fixed figurine with all her thoughts in order would break her more than any concoction of pleasure and shame. 

"Fortunately for you, I'm a benevolent owner and want my figurine's smile to be genuine. So sorry that I tapped into your mind but well, I'm not really sorry. You belong to me now, so too do your thoughts I'm afraid. Well, I'm not really afraid. I'm actually ecstatic, did I mention that Magical Girl Bravery is absolutely my favourite anime character? She's just so cute, now that you've stopped talking back in such ugly tongue the resemblance really is striking." Saffron pinches the hem of Brooke's shorts and slides them down with her panties in tow, throwing the miniature clothing into her spare accessories box and then bringing the toy close to inspect its dampness. "I was just making you do that to pass the time, I didn't mean to trigger your fetish or what have you... uhm, you shave down here? Why? You people never fail to befuddle me." The witch reaches for her desk to retrieve a cotton swab and presses it against Brooke's entrance, making the girl moan and writhe in her owner's hold. "W-woah, I was just drying it so that my Bravery clothes aren't stained but... well, the other girls were not so sensitive ahaha." With some excitement, Saffron brings her lips close to that wetness between Brooke's legs and blows cool air against it. The blonde pushes one thigh in front of the other and clamps them tight, which would make for such a cute alternate pose were the original not so perfect. 

"P-please..." Brooke whines, Saffron's finger slipping under her sweater to push it over her head and arms in a slow tug. The girl obliges all too easily, leaving her in just a bra which soon comes off too with little effort to tear open. 

"Oh, I got a little distracted there and the muting spell seems to have failed. Mistress Hecharone would no doubt write such a lovingly penned letter of scorn to me if she discovered my careless replications of her life's work. Please what, cutie? You want me to send you home now? It'd be quite a long walk for you in this state!" 

Swallowing hard and biting her lip harder, Brooke shakes her head. "I... n-no, I think I... like it? I... I want you to make me your uhm... magical g-girl thing?" Brooke rubs her thighs together, having at long last managed to match Saffron's freak, as her boyfriend would sometimes say. Right now she could hardly care to think about him, as much as he doesn't deserve such callousness, instead Brooke only laments not letting her reclusive neighbour take out those frustrations from being bullied on dear Brooke. She could have let the girl push her down and... ah, she's always been like this hasn't she? No wonder she's such a bitch to everyone!

Saffron blushes in embarrassment before laughing aloud. "No joke, pretty? Well that's a rather unexpected outcome, I usually have to make them want it and even then the spell barely holds. Maybe with such a willing figurine the others will become inspired to follow suit hm? Very well, dear, I'll make you mine. I'll make you owned. Forever~"

The day of the sixteenth figure's arrival, Bravery can barely contain her excitement. With some convincing and a little sprinkle of magic, neither can the others. Since she was first reduced to this, or enhanced in her opinion, the girl has gone through quite a liberating transformation. Now the girl formerly named Brooke stands in the centre of Saffron's cabinet shelf as the witch's favourite character. A magical girl who fights in the name of bravery and embodies it in heart and name. Naturally she wears a revealing outfit to really portray how magical she is, leaning over with raised posterior as her fingers form a magical heart. Her smile is genuine, the prized possession grateful for the magic that makes her never feel fatigue from such a tiresome pose, nor boredom when endless adventures take place in her magical mind. Her hair is a pretty rose now, short and straight, her skin polished to a lustrous perfection with Saffron's brush and definition inked onto her with precise strokes of inky black. 

A figure is placed onto the shelf, a haughty girl that Magical Girl Bravery almost seems to recognise from a past life. Her immovable, painted smile is all that she can give the girl right now as Tatiana shifts her gaze from side to side in a panic, having resisted until the end unlike begging Brooke. A babbling brook flowing with lust, ready to give in to her secret desire. Tati will need more convincing, which sounds like a job for the Magical Girl Ideals Squad!

"You're always one step ahead of me, Bravery. That's why you're my favourite." Saffron's face shades the shelf's interior, but warms it with that amber glow. The witch readies her wand and snaps her fingers, temporarily freeing her collection from their perfect poses to teach Tatiana the joys of being owned. The wonderful world of magic and of being magical! 

Forever and always hers.