The searing yellow-green flash almost blinded her, forcing the girl to turn her head away before cancelling the transmutation. Her hand went numb, scaring her for a moment. A few moments of massage helped the blood circulation, restoring the suddenly lost oxygen. Once again, she surprised herself. The clock, the timer, was the missing piece indeed. Once all the pieces fell into place, the puzzle became more than the sum of its parts. It was amazing, but also... daunting. For the second time that night, Evarista was beset by the creeping thought that she was playing with powers far beyond her understanding, and even further beyond her control. There had to be a reason why humans didn't glow in the dark. Trying to step over that reason without knowing what it is was a game with fire. Cold fire, as it were, but fire none the less.
Purposefully limiting the scope this time, the nightly experimentalist set the reaction into motion again. Two bricks, one hammer, one clock; activate. Five pulsing lanterns lit up in an arc, indistinguishable from the real firefly next to them. Uncanny. It was as if her fingers were transformed into whole fireflies themselves, but they hadn't. She only took the light.
Stepping away for a moment, Evarista looked up at the moon. It was time to go to bed. It was exciting to have something caught in her web, and she didn't insult her prey by letting it rot unnoticed. The firefly was in its death throes, no longer buzzing. Wings moved slowly up and down, as if the wearer was in delirium, imagining itself to fly high up in the sky, somewhere far, far away from here. Only the lantern was still glowing defiantly. It would not be left to die here.
Evarista changed her fingers to miniature tweezers. Not trusting her limited vision and clumsy hands, she drew out the aural corona again, not because she was interested in the contents, but because it made it possible to see the physical outlines with no light. Nifty, now that she thought about it. Pinching the bug by its torso, she pulled. A barely audible crunch signaled the separation of the legs, tiny black twigs left forever attached to the deadly glue of her silk. Carrying the maimed insect with her, she went upstairs to her room, stepping quietly.
Being up at night was somewhat common for her. She didn't need to bother with a work schedule, so there was no problem with sleeping until late afternoon if need be. Most of the other residents of the estate didn't have that luxury, and so didn't appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night. Evarista has learned to move quietly through the halls, knowing how to avoid bumping into things, minimizing the rattle of doorknobs and the slamming of doors. It was her home, in the end, familiar enough to let her move around rather quietly even in near-complete darkness.
Finally, she was back in her room, firefly still mostly intact in her pincer. The pulsing light was weak now. Approaching the balcony, the girl checked up on her eight-legged companion and confidant. Archibald's dark silhouette was immobile. Lifting the lid of the jar slightly, the young aristocrat slipped in the firefly with a practiced motion, before closing the jar again. The fading speck of light bounced from the spider's head before falling onto the glass floor. Archibald's one leg twitched lazily in response. Maybe she needed to get him a bigger jar, he looked like he needed some exercise.