Soul's Grace
18th of November 2006 A.D.
Not that I was minded to share that fact share but I'm no stranger to dealing with demons. After what Chauncy had done I'd been firm in my decision to stay the -
figurative- hell away from them so as not to end up in the literal one. But even at my most daring, call it what it is, reckless I never would have thought to make a deal with something as old, cruel and crazy as a naagloshii so when Molly had said the thing would just hand off its hostages on her word that she'd help him hunt vampires well that had sounded like the opening bell for an ambush to me. Fire flood and earthquake, rain of cats and dogs only the cats and dogs were warlocks, the works. My left hand drifted towards the duster pocket where I kept the Dream-catcher I'd made last week. God, or maybe the Holy People in his case, knew if I'd done a good job at it with only second hand accounts and one broken example to work off of, but it should hold the monster in place at least for a few seconds, long enough for the Sword... the swords to give it the worst day it had in centuries, hopefully its last.
Then the van came, the van went, the demon-thing kept its word which, a good thing for those kids on skateboards going past and the guy in the pizza delivery truck trundling by, but I sure as Winter's heart was cold didn't trust it. Maybe it had messed with their heads, that would be a way to get to Molly if it knew her history and as cunning as it had been so far that was a good bet. Poor kid looked like the was about to start crying just at the sight of them, unconscious on the sidewalk...
It started as a sound, a wind out of out of nowhere whistling that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Magic... magic was pouring into the world, I realized, as though the eldritch mechanism of Molly's power had suddenly started working in reverse, flowing thicker and thicker by the moment from wind to mist, to waves of power lapping at the sharp edges of reality.
"What are you...!" The words died in my throat, as the magic impinged upon the air I realized it wasn't formless at all, the patterns un it had just been written too small for me to see, but now... now from static emerged script, fractal impossibility made real that burned though the eye and the mind as it grew, expanded,
breathed.
The air felt heavy and tasted of brass, the air smelled like the Charity's cookies, which I'd been lucky enough to taste only once.
I'm soulgazing her... no, that's impossible, I've already....
The MAKERS did not know what they had wrought. They sought... champ... wearing gilded collars, gestalt-reflections of their own magnificence. But the Green Sun... were more... ever ant... Within them slept a greater power than the... own: the power to... nature and be REBORN. A new era is at hand. THE WHEEL TURNS.
The Sight does not work like that, some distant part of my mind says in defiance of the fact that is clearly did as my Inner Eye was blasted open by light and music, space and time.
"Essence my host, that is the Essence of one who is Becoming," I heard Lash whisper into my ear.
"Becoming what?" I asked, for once not even thinking of the implications of who I was asking.
"That which she is." There was something in her voice I had not heard before and it scared the shit out of me,
awe.
Do you take Harry and Michael with you into your world-soul?
[] Neither
[] Harry
[] Michael
[] Both
OOC: I know you guys want to get to the hell vote, but I am drawing this out as a sort of moratorium-with-interludes to give more than the normal day or so between updates to debate what you want to do with your hell as well as give people time to finish off any hell-concepts they may have. Initially I had thought of doing Harry and Michael in one go, but the tone of their interludes did not fit together.