Slowly, she brushes her long hair which is as black as the night that is falling outside. One strand after another, a hundred times over, she combs through it until at last she puts the bone-handled brush down and just stares into her own soulful, black eyes. She sighs. Tonight is one of those nights. Most of the time, she's happy with her life choices, but sometimes, she can't help feeling that there's more out there than entertaining the masses and being the sexiest ghoul above ground.

She glances at the reflection of her Witch's hat where it's hanging by her door, waiting for her to pick it up on her way out. She has a meeting of the BAW in just a few hours. Usually, she's happy to be around other women like herself, but the truth is that there is no one quite like her. She is a Sorceress, natural born, but she hardly ever has any luck with her magic. Of course, she's a Bad Ass, but she isn't much of a Bad Ass Witch.

To make matters worse, the rest of her favorite coven already knows that. That's why she's regulated to bringing the drinks. They won't even trust her with the food after her last casserole disaster. She still remembers Penny telling her that she's not accustomed to having to fry a dinner that's supposed to be already fried. It was a good thing Ororo was there that night instead of out saving the world with her team as she so often is.

That thought brings another sigh from Elvira's pouting, black lips. Every one of the BAW contributes to the coven's goal of making their world a better place. Ororo actively fights to save innocents as does Penelope. Her daughter, Patricia, is well on the way to bringing the Charmed Ones into this world, and they are supposed to be the most powerful Witches of their generation and save the world even more often than the X-Men. Amanda's fought alongside the X-Men, too, and she's even taken out her own mother, the Queen of Hell, before. Maleficent saved the whole of Fae kind, and every one knows that it's Glinda who keeps Oz safe, not the Wizard.

But what does she do? Elvira wonders. What does she really contribute to mankind, or even Witchkind, other than great sex? She feels like she should give more, like she should be doing more, but what does she have that any one wants? She's not that bright, and she's certainly not magically inclined despite her heritage. She's a scrapper and can handle herself in a one-on-one fight with most chicks, but saving the world is way out of her league.

She sighs. Face it, babe. You're way out of your league with everything the coven's really about. All you've got, her eyes go to her own cleavage, is a great set of teats.

The door opens, and a severed hand scampers into her bedroom. He jumps up and dives straight into the top of her black, silk dress. Elvira starts to sigh again. "Not tonight, Thing," she says. "I'm not in the mood."

He jumps out of her dress and signs furiously. She chuckles derisively at her own self. "Yeah, I know. When am I not in the mood?"

He lands on her dresser, and even though he's not got eyes, she knows when she's being looked at, when she's being studied. Then he signs again. She smirks. "Yeah, you're right. It's better to have great pumpkins than a great brain." But then her smile fades and she sighs once more. "But sometimes, I wonder, y'know? There are so many babes out there doing more than I'm ever going to do."

"You do more than you realize," states a cool, calm voice from Elvira's opened doorway.

Nicely done! And no, extra words are never an issue! ;-)