Tailoring for the Soul
15th of December 2006 A.D.
It is a fact at once very useful and inconvenient that there is no means of communicating in and out of Sanctuary beyond ferrying people in and out. It is on one such occasions, as Morgan sends off his carefully handwritten report by whatever means the White Council presently uses for such things that you return to the palace to a certain high security vault with a certain silver-framed mirror. Looking within you find... your reflection as though this were no more than common glass.
You raise an eyebrow. "Well?"
There's a beat, just long enough to open your mouth and then the Molly in the mirror blinks, the eye turns green, then with a shake of the head so does the other and a moment later her features resemble themselves into the face of the woman you had once called Tiff.
"Oh thank God I thought I was in for
Double, Double Toil and Trouble," you breathe.
"A poor Macbeth you would make. Whatever would you wish for a kingdom as paltry as Scotland when you have a world?" she laughs softly.
"I meant movie," you shoot back innocent as can be.
Thinking your mean one of the many adaptations of Macbeth to the silver screen, she actually calls it that, which makes it all the funnier when you proceed to describe the 1992 made for TV
Olsen Twins movie, leaving her for a moment looking like the only reason she is not applying her head to a desk is the lack of such furnishings in her own personal mirror dimension.
"Don't quit your day job," she finally mutters
"Which one?" you ask, only half in jest, thinking of that schedule.
"A word of advice," comes the answer as Lash composes herself. "It's what
I was made for after all, you can still burn out even when you no longer feel tired in body or mind, it just takes longer."
"I'll take that under advisement—" you asnwer pulling up a chair—"now about that body you were looking for lets just start with the simple parts first.
[Self-Status Actualization?]"
Lash, you quickly find, is not a higher soul, she is certainly more like one than she is anything else, she is meant to appeal to and prey upon such impulses that originate from the lower soul be is the fear of danger, the avoidance of pain, desire and want but ultimately trickery and deception is the bread and butter of Hell, after riling up the Po in its slumber the offer was meant to appeal to the Han soul. Harry had turned that around her by using his Po soul, which he visualizes as Mirror Universe Harry because he is a man of culture, to bind the shadow in exchange for allowing her such freedom as would be of help in survival. Effectively he had turned arguing with a demon, or at least an aspect of one, into arguing with his own yet dreaming, but very talkative lower soul.
If he ends up in Yomi Wan somehow there's a very good chance Harry would come back as one of the Jade Court, you realize with a start, not really information you know what to do with but there you have it
On a more immediately relevant note Lash has interacted with a Po soul before, if only in terms of being tied to a metaphorical chair so you build on that.
"[If you knew hunger what would you like to eat? If you could grow tired how would you most rest? If you had flesh how would it fit you?]" On and on it goes, until at some point you had reached the concept of a favorite color and how it makes one feel. "Mine's midnight blue, it makes me feel at ease, like looking at the sky as evening settles to dusk..."
"Doesn't do a thing for me." The words are hard, but more than that, brittle.
Oh right, that's not a happy thought for her is it. Truth be told you are not sure if you should be proud or disturbed at how easy the asnwer comes: "The sky is beautiful because of you."
"Pardon?" she asks, confused.
"Not
only you, generically 'you', the observer. Without anyone to appreciate it the sky would still look the same, the clouds would race across it, the sun would still shine upon it, but it would just
be without being something. In looking at things and naming them so we make them beautiful, we make them more what they are."
"Huh," she pauses and thinks. "I am a source of meaning aren't I? and I guess in your own stumbling drunken way so are humans."
Now it's time for you to be confused. "Humans are drunk?"
"With lies and self delusions, ever so easy to pull this way and that." She stops and shakes her head. "I guess angels are not that much better, they got tricked once and forever, even if I can't remember why."
"You can't?" Darn, you had hopped to get some kind of answer without needing to use the Crown and the complications it would bring.
"No," she sighs. "[Light and longing in flesh woven, these are known/sung/aware]"
The last word makes you shake your head as though to banish a buzzing fly. Concepts not just known but
knowing, a portion of the soul through which action can be taken. Doesn't that just sound
familiar?
You don't know, and odds are you never will if the Fallen are just lazy or if they are in some way compelled to cast shadows in their own image, but Lash knows a great deal more than she would strictly need to damn one mortal soul. Thus you unroll the great scroll eight feet tall and five feet wide and together you make the lines.
[Circle and Square, vaults of heaven and pillar of earth,
each inscribe the body, neither alone can contain its birth
Matter without spirit is dead, spirit without matter flees.
Arms hold the tools to make the world
Wings take flight to bear the Word]
It is only when you get on your feet again to look at the whole thing in the blazing light of your soul that you realize the whole of it looks a bit like the Vitruvian Man save for a few 'small' details: the figure is female somehow capturing the animated beauty of the woman in the mirror in still life, in place of the upper set of arms she has wings and upon each glyph of elder tongue, keys of brass and keys of gold and the pair of legs that would have followed the circle are not legs but roots to tap into the Essence of the world... You smile and then you look more closely at the signs.
"That's not going to work, you do not have access to the ley-lines I don't know how to give you access without scrapping so much the body would become incompatible."
"Such is the nature of the Fallen," Lash says her voice utterly, dreadfully composed. If she weren't she would be cursing and weeping all at once you know.
Prayer channels, the answer comes comes to you in a flash.
Every human has them so why not reverse the direction, carve on the heart, feed it inwards, the star of the elements held in a mirror. So that's why the Devil likes inverted Pentagrams...
neat. Too bad for him there is no copyright in Hell. Scraper and laser stylus in hand you make the changes in a flash, or about three hours, less than it takes the next meal to arrive at least.
"That... that looks crazy enough to work," the voice that echoes from the mirror is heavy with emotion. "Thank you," she gets out with tentative sincerity, like she is trying the concept out for size.
Designed Vessel of the Fallen ●●●●●
"Thank me when it's done," you say wiping your brow. "Well OK, thank me now too if you like, but I wanted to get that line in."
"When they are making the movie about this part I will be sure to tell them you said so," she rolls her eyes a little unable or perhaps even unwilling to hide a smile.
***
17th of December 2006 A.D.
You emerge from your labors to find the weapons inspection sadly complete so much for spending time with Harry but Wu Min does come to you with a very cogent question: how much of the spirit lore of Sanctuary are you willing to share. On the one hand being generous would go some ways to making the council more inclined to ally with you, but on the other the lore is alien as it is precious to them, she does not try to hide how much this could be worth in future trades.
[] Novice, the barest beginnings
[] Apprentice, enough to deal with spirits so long as they are well disposed
[] Adept, the skill of a respected professional in binding and exorcism
[] Master, the level of celebrated engineseers and well spirit-walkers like master
[] Grandmaster, less than a score such individuals who have come this far exist in the whole of Sanctuary
OOC: Mechanically each of these five options represent a dot in the path, they are books and scrolls up to that level