Page 7: God Calling Man
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Page 7: God Calling Man
Two people dressed in Sunday clothes walked down the street, glancing this way and that at the South Side in all its glory and color. Certainly the Strand was nice any time of day, but a Sunday morning probably wasn't the best time to see the real bustle of the crowded ghetto. People selling things on the street, people making their homes and going to the theatre or a club, or a dance hall, and then all of those people going to and from work, it could get quite busy sometimes. But now wasn't one of those times.
Every so often, the man would stop in the conversation to talk to the young girl, who was a teenage girl, and drew rather less notice than the man did.
"Jack, I'm starting to think you don't watch much baseball," Miriam said, smiling, tilting up to look at him. Not that he was that much taller, only perhaps 5'7, but an extra inch and so of height and decades of age meant that despite the fact that her uncle was sometimes a bit of a strange fellow, she'd always looked up to him. Now that she knew he was magical, it was hard to miss. It seemed to speak in everything he did, his odd thoughtfulness...and his less strange thoughtlessness. It was as if she were looking at a picture from a different angle.
He wasn't a different person.
"No, I mean, I've heard of Rube, who hasn't. Best pitcher anyone's ever seen," he said.
"Really? He's great, but that was decades ago," Miriam said, forcefully, "He's in charge of the Giants, and better for it, but…though there is his brother." Willie Foster, a pitcher like nobody's business. She'd seen him pitch once and he'd barely let anyone touch a base, at least on a good day. "But we lost last year," Miriam pointed out, "Those Monarchs just…" She made a troubled gesture in the air, "But still. With all the players running to and fro."
"Ah, now there's something I can tell you. No contract in the world is going to keep a man from going where the money's better if there's not more security," Jack said, "Plus there's going down to Cuba and Mexico--"
"I know," Miriam said. A ton of Negro League players went to Latin America (or Florida for exhibition games) in the winter, or stayed there where they were stars. If they were good enough, at least. Less prejudice, everyone said, but it did mean that plenty of good players just ran off and didn't go back to the states until they had to. If at all.
"Really, it's so strange that they'd go to a country that treated them like men," Jack said, tapping his cane on the ground a little playfully, "Honestly, one's baffled sometimes at the lack of loyalty of the Negro race to their betters. It confuses me," he said, his voice as dry as sandpaper. "Though I suppose the cuban cigars are a bit of a draw. Just another way Latin America is trying to seduce people away from America." He glanced around as he half-darted forward, as if in the steps of a dance, "I've heard it's lovely down there by the beaches, you know?"
Ah. If she let him, he'd talk about Cuba the whole way, however little that was. So she went straight back to the topic, plunging somewhat stolidly onward. "Still, I'm sure we'll do better this season. Either way, I suppose you're too busy to--"
"I've gone with you to games before," Jack said, "Don't get me wrong...hrm, what should I even call you? A shadow name is supposed to mean something, and I wouldn't want to burden you with a name that'll last forever." He paused. "Like mine. Someone saw my Nimbus, and when I first got to Chicago, I'd use my powers to sneak into white dance halls and the like, just to see what the big deal was. And then someone called me, 'The dancing shadow' and I was a stupid enough kid to own it rather than telling them to shove it."
"Ah," she said, "Sounds rough. So I need a name that's temporary?"
"Well...too bad there aren't any female baseball stars," Jack said, which almost caused Miriam to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "Well, oh there's an idea. Just temporarily."
"What?"
"Well, how does Ruth sound? Foremother of Jesus, and then there's the ball player. Did pretty well I hear, last October."
Miriam had opinions about the name, but nodded. "Sure, that sounds good for a temporary name. I don't know how complex or meaningful the names are supposed to be."
"What matters is that you don't look like an idiot calling yourself that. And sometimes picking a symbolic name changes things. Mars knew what he was doing when he called himself as he did," Jack said. "I personally am waiting for bated breath for the moment it's revealed that he had an affair with a crippled man's wife and he gets publicly humiliated for it."
Miriam, who knew her mythology, couldn't help but chuckle. Mars and Venus. The Greek and Roman myths were rather cruel things, at times.
"Though usually it's not so literal. Perhaps nothing will happen, or perhaps he'll attempt to ally himself in some way in the future with a woman, only to be shown up by another in politics. Either way...ah, and here we are."
Storefront churches were exactly what they sounded like. The banners and signs helped distinguish them, and each small little storefront in a strip across the street, competing for time and space. Some had colorful banners, and there were people streaming into each. They couldn't hold that many people, and if they got big enough, they'd have to move into a larger church. Jack moved unerringly towards one, as he began talking about mythology in general, chatting as she chattered back, paying half a mind to her other train of thought.
******
In her other train of thoughts, she considered the matter from all angles and came to a few careful conclusions.
Alright, she decided. It was clear that Jack had biases. Silver Ladder seemed to be involved at least more than average in the running of the Consilium, though that was just a guess. Arrows, he'd said, were less likely to become a Hierarch, and no Guardian was mentioned as either being in the running or being the Hierarch, though the word of the day was 'sample size.'
What else could she learn? If the Folk came from up south following their people, that implied a relationship...well, her Uncle had said it. Like the way that preachers followed their flocks after half of them moved to Chicago or other cities. That was a causal relationship of sorts. It was a link. A hint of how they might work.
These 'Seers of the Throne' must be the enemies that Jack was speaking of, and it was clear he hated them. They'd murdered the mayor, essentially, of magical Chicago, and they'd taken control of the mayor of regular Chicago. Dozens of murders, and they had to have been able to hide it. Unless almost everyone who died in the riots was a Mage. So, they had the power to cover up that sort of things.
"Make it look like an accident" criminals always said in those pulp mysteries. Well, with magic no doubt the accidents could look even more accidental. And so, there had been a war, and then the war had...ended.
And yet Jack mentioned the Seers with their grips on another somewhat important mortal. She'd heard of Capone, at least, and she knew he was involved in breaking prohibition, and any number of shady or murderous acts.
And so were the Seers, then. So the Folk and the...The Uprising had joined up, agreed to be bound by the laws of the Diamond. One assumes with representation. Before that, what were they? Perhaps like the Indian tribes. Subject to the rules and force of the Diamond Orders, whatever that meant, when they could apply it, and no further, and not citizens in any case. Citizens, what a word to talk about with a magical government.
So, other details. Isaac was clearly disliked by Jack, and he seemed to have reasons for it, but if she met him, she should be polite, respectful, and try to get his side of things. After all, as powerful as he was, he'd matter either way, and it would hurt nothing to understand him. The same applied to Ostanes. That said, she wasn't important, she was just a new Mage, and while she couldn't know how common they were…
She wasn't sure if she bought the idea that she was a special asset that they would all fight over. It made no sense to Miriam, the idea that she might be specially important. So she was not likely to meet either of them anytime soon, but when she did, she should do so with an open mind and a respectful heart, in order to see…
Well, maybe she was also just curious about what a "necromancer and alchemist" could do, or what someone close to whatever an "Archmage" was was like. Magic was already something that seemed remarkably powerful, if also unsteady, so she couldn't imagine what the most powerful Mage in Chicago could do.
...really, Rube? It'd been years and years since he'd played and…
Focus. So, she was going to meet the Folk. If many of them came up with the people from the South, that implied a large Negro contingent, which was certainly a comforting thought in a way she knew was probably not entirely good. So she was going to keep her ears open, her heart open, but try not to talk back or argue too much. Polite, respectful, and see what people say.
There were other things to think about as well, as far as the nature of the universe. Psychics and 'thaumaturges' whatever those were. Other categories of beings beyond Mages. And he'd mentioned spirits, whatever those were. And necromancy implied ghosts of some kind. There was a whole wider world, beyond Cuba--could he teleport across large distances, or was it just short term?--and beyond Mages alone.
'Ah, and here we are.'
Oh. Well. She might as well continue to consider things all the while.
*****
It was not a very large church, even though the space was clearly being used to its fullest extent. The whole room was--
Her eyes supplied the dimensions, and she shook her head. Not much. There were about two dozen benches, as well as two wooden chairs put out, and the walls were plastered with pictures from the bible and posters. Up front, there was a stool and two figures. One was a very dark skinned Negro wearing all white vestments, his hair graying, perhaps fifty or so, not much older than her father, but with a face more lined with worry and care. The other was a woman, probably in her sixties, with skin a shade or two lighter. Plump, and wearing a shapeless white dress, her face heavy. But just like Valkyrie, there was a certain solidity to her, though she couldn't quite place it, until she looked at her with her Sight.
It looked as if vines were creeping up her skin, blooming vines whose flowers were white, and she had to assume that was an active spell. She was curious about what it did, actually. But vines made her think of nature, and so perhaps it invigorated her? Or perhaps it did nothing at all. The man had no such spells on him.
"There they are," Jack said, "Both of them are Mages." He said it under his breath, as she glanced around at others.
The benches were all being filled with people. All told, there were dozens of people here, and if anything Miriam could have stood to have dressed rather better. Everyone was clearly dressed in the best they could wear, all of it colorful. There were more women than men, by a fair enough margin, and they looked like people of all age. Negroes of all age, that was. Off to the side, Jack gestured towards two seats.
People were muttering greetings, and Miriam hoped that she didn't stand out too much. This made her nervous, even though it shouldn't have. Still, this was a house of God, and so she breathed in and out.
"Don't worry, they're both pretty nice." He sat down in the chair and gestured for her to sit next to him.
The rustling was dying down, and it was only a few moments before the man began speaking. "Greetings brothers and sisters of Christ. Last night I had a dream, a dream like many I'd had before, a dream from God himself."
The people made approving noises. 'Mmm-hmm' and the like. Miriam frowned, watching. God certainly could send visions if he wanted, of course.
"He told me that today there'd be a birth to celebrate soon, one of our own seeing some good fortune."
His voice was booming, and melodious, as one woman stood up.
"It was my gran'daughter, Pastor, the one that ran away. She came back and said she wanted to get right with God, but she was pregnant. She's going to give birth soon."
He smiled, and it was a warm, caring smile. She knew it might be fake, but if so, it was a cunningly crafted fake. "These are good tidings." He paused and said, "And we are here because of another birth to come, a birth that shall come again. So let us sing, gladly and with joy--"
Miriam noticed that there were only a few hymnal books, each held by particular people, and she understood at once the logic. They would sing it, and the others would follow. It was a spiritual about the birth of Jesus Christ, low and almost sad, and yet there was an element, a single strand of hope that she took up when she stood and sung with them. None of them were 'shouting', though they were rather more enthusiastic in their singing...more enthusiastic than skilled, but she could feel their faith, almost.
She could tell they believed, as truly and deeply as those in larger, more well attended churches.
After that, he moved onto talking about several bible verses. Jesus' life was what he talked about, and he began with the incident of the Fig Tree, before moving then and suddenly, switching gears so fast that Miriam felt as if she might have missed something, to Paul and his letters, and then, swinging around, to the signs of Jesus' birth.
"He was born alone, but on this earth he had fellows! On this earth he had friends and family, and after he left this earth, he left a church. He took a human form and lived a human life," he said, "Just like you or I."
"Amen," Miriam muttered along with the congregation, for it was a good point. Her father had talked about that sometime, the seeming contradiction of the son of God, one of the trinity, and how his humanity was so vital to the faith.
"And he came down and saved us, and he didn't have to. God didn't owe humanity nothing, from the way we was acting," he said, his accent thickening as he spoke, his words growing louder. He had no notes, and not even in the sense of like how Dad always cast them aside to extemporize. "And yet he saved us!"
"Amen," the congregation yelled, stamping their feet, and Miriam felt it. The shift, the difference, the way the emotions were coalescing as he continued to speak. Shout, more like it, and one woman began to stomp her feet more than the rest as he raised his voice, and she felt it too.
"Nothing...interesting. There are spirits here, but…" Jack said, thoughtfully, "At most they've encouraged certain spirits and discouraged others."
The part of her that was still considering the implications of things filed it away, but that wasn't most of her at all.
She joined in, and she felt it coming on. It was a sort of mania, a sort of warm, light feeling in her veins. It was the fact that this was good preaching. True preaching, and she always felt like that when her Dad really got a sermon going, but this...it had different purposes. It didn't want to make her think, it made her want to stomp. It made her body want to move…
And so Miriam, that most physical and intellectual of persons, embraced one. Discarded another, and she lost herself in the moment as the sermon rose to its climax.
******
She should have been humiliated. Her knees had almost buckled at one point, and her heart was racing, her breath coming a little short from the movements. She wasn't a dancer, but...it was dancing but it also wasn't. It was more like her body was trying to follow her spirit than anything so simple as dancing itself. She...hadn't thought she'd lose herself like that, and her Uncle had watched her with what almost looked like dismay, except it couldn't be, could it?
Though of course, the part of her still analyzing things, though it had stopped for a while, almost ending the spell pointed out: he'd been flummoxed often enough. As confidant as he was, deep down to his bones, that didn't mean he couldn't be a little silly. Of course, that was the sort of thought it was hard to keep when she'd seen him teleport across a room. When she'd seen him read minds and split his ownmind into two.
Still...all things were possible, including the fact that he might well be silly...and wise.
Towards the end of the Sunday service, which was far better than she expected, and left her feeling charged with God's grandeur, the tone changed.
"I ask now, for those who are sick, for those who are troubled, in their bodies or their spirits, to rise up. To stand. For it is said that Christ took up our infirmities and bore our diseases, it is said that the Lord God grants power, that the Holy Spirit can move a man, can fill a man, and I feel it coming on me! I feel the Lord's hand moving my body, and the Lord's calling me again! Calling me," he shouted, "To heal the sick, to bind their wounds, to make whole what was broken. And so come up! Come up!"
A few stood, one of them shakily, and the woman had been with the preacher, who had stood to the side and sung and worshipped the whole while, walked forward.
"Ah...I've never been...and here we go. Watch her," Jack said, and Miriam frowned, looking closely.
Three people were coming up. A man who was limping, a woman who looked like she was half collapsed, exhausted from the service alone, and a woman who had to be around thirty. Each of them was dressed as best as they could be, but they obviously wore clothes that they only wore once a week. Not that anyone was exactly rich by certain standards on the South Side. The woman touched each of them on the shoulder as she led them forward, and Miriam stared as the vines seemed to lash out, but gently, moving onto their bodies for a moment.
"Clever. He's not even going to do any magic on them," Jack muttered, "She's doing it, and then when the Abyss and all of these Sleepers is ready to see some magic...and it's already been done. But it'd take them time, I bet, to really realize it. They're expecting to be healed in a minute, or two or three, and so that's what they'll think."
Miriam could see it, the way she was casting spells. Healing spells, Miriam had to assume, and thought about how useful that was. Practical even. Helping people. "Can she...heal anything?"
"From what I've heard of Eve? No. Not here and now with no prep work and a bunch of potential witnesses. But she can cure plenty enough, and she could pep people up now. And then later she could do a fuller ritual, make a production out of checking on them, and then doing a more thorough job."
Miriam watched, fascinated. And then the preacher began to speak. "I have told this story before, but we have guests. Visitors. They have made themselves welcome and have heard our service." Now people were looking back at Miriam, and she tried to sit up straight. "So let me tell them of it, the dream that God sent me, when he called me to ministry and healing. I dreamed of a wedding and a birth: a funeral and a death--"
"What?" Miriam whispered to Jack.
"Didn't your father teach you anything about dream...no, of course not. Dream signs are inverted. Dreaming of a funeral is good, dreaming of a birth is bad. Being eaten by an animal you're going to hun: good. So on. So forth. It...has some truth in some places."
Meanwhile, the preacher continued to speak. "The wedding of flesh and spirit! Jesus took the form of stuff, just stuff--"
Miriam was watching him closely as he gestured, but she also saw Jack holding out his hands and pulling back two fingers. Counting something.
"Took it even though he'd have to die. Took it even though to be matter, to be flesh, was death itself. I saw it, I knew he knew it. All time is one to God, he knew when he screamed his first breath, when the very energy of the Godhead entered a person...he knew! He knew he'd die, that this was his destiny! And yet he gave, and yet his father gave…"
Jack had one hand counted out.
"And so he lived. He lived like you and me, and I saw that, I saw that with all of my being! I saw Christ!"
"Amen! Amen!"
"He was power itself, the power of God who holds the whole world in his hand, the majesty. A burning bush, a roaring inferno, the waters parting! I was there! I sawed it with my own eyes!"
Jack had eight fingers pulled back.
"And I knew somewhere, in my head, I knew that God was there every step of the way. Ain't no distance between God and man at all. And I saw the birth that was the death on the cross, the blessed cross. And they asked me to officiate. God did. Asked me to see to the wedding. An I know you've heard this a thousand times before--"
He was crying, and Jack was watching, oddly moved. "Ten…" he muttered to himself, "All ten...and without even saying it…"
"But I saw God! And so be healed! Be healed and walk with the Lord!" And he stepped forward, and Miriam watched him, watched him with something almost like awe.
"That," she began, "What's he called?"
"The Folk prefer simple names, usually. He's John. A baptist." Jack quirked a smile, but Miriam couldn't smile at all. Or maybe that's all she should be doing, because he impressed her a lot.
******
After the healing, there was one more song, and then a collection plate, and Miriam and Jack moved when people were starting to leave. Miriam composed herself, smoothing her skirts as she got up, feeling out of place as she walked towards Eve. John was talking to several members of the congregation, and so now was the time to 'strike.'
Still, she was nervous. She'd be meeting another Mage, and not her own Uncle, who was sorta...biased in her favor. She wanted to make a good impression so badly. "Remember, I'm...say, Dancer. Or Shadow. And I'll be calling you Ruth."
"Understood," Miriam said, carefully. "Do you think it'll fool them?"
"It...might," Jack said, "At the very least, it's something."
Eve was watching them as they approached. Up close, she definitely looked better preserved than most people her age, which seemed as if it were in her sixties. She looked like a woman who had survived a lot of life, and had come out the other side intact through burdens that would have broken another person. Or maybe she was reading too much, but there was a tired sort of peace on her face. To Miriam's eyes, at least.
"Eve, I would like you to introduce someone who I'll call Ruth for the moment." Miriam didn't actually like some of the biblical implications of Ruth, but it did work.
Even looked at her, a little curiously, as if waiting to see what she'd do. "Pleased to meet you, Eve. The service was amazing."
"Amazing?" Eve asked. "I saw you shouting."
"I felt the call to do so," Miriam said, and she didn't blush. Now that it was done, there was no room in her for shame at it. Her beliefs were not something to be embarrassed about. "God is everywhere...but picking somewhere helps too. And this place, it's small, but that doesn't mean…"
"It means nothin' at all," Eve said, smiling. "Do you mind if I have a look at you, Ruth? It's a lovely name, by the way."
"Better than Shadow," Jack said, wryly, but Miriam ignored him for the moment, nodding.
"May I...look back?" Miriam asked.
"Of course," Eve said, and then against her expectations she pulled Miriam into a hug. Miriam struggled to form the 'imago' fast enough, and let out a breath, just allowing herself to calm down for a moment. There was no rush, and the hug ended but she could always touch the woman's shoulder.
Even whistled and said, "The Lord's in you, Ruth, doing good work through you."
"Thank you," Miriam said, and she reached out to touch Eve on the shoulder again. And failed yet again, this time because she was too busy thinking about what Eve had seen. Then she felt it all align, the spell simpler than she'd expected now that she was focused. Eve stood before her, head flashing with green and grey, and then…
Eve was loyal, someone who stood by her church and stood by her God to the very end, and yet this very diligence could sometimes be plodding, simple. Abused. She was not strong of mind, not compared to, say, her Uncle, but she had a strong force of personality about her, as if to make up for it.
"Mind too? Interesting," Jack said. "Rare too, for a Thyrsus."
But Miriam was still speaking. "What he was describing, was it his Awakening? It sounded spiritual, just like mine was."
"Ahh. How new are you?" Eve asked, and then chuckled when Miriam hesitated, "You don't have to tell me, girl. Ruth, it's good to meet another person. I assume Dancing Shadow here wanted to show you around, maybe? I've never met him, and he doesn't seem the religious type--"
"He's a good man. I've...seen it. I know it," Miriam insisted, and then flushed a little, "But either way, I did want to learn about the Folk, if I may ask."
"So polite," Eve said, approvingly. "Well, we're not like the Ladders, though many of them are plenty good, and I've heard that Shadow's an ally. He wasn't polite the one time I met him, but he helped me anyways."
"I am an ally...of sorts. I try to be everyone's friend," Jack said, "Or perhaps to simply be amusingly diverting for everyone…"
"What do you believe in?" Miriam asked, knowing to try to tune her Uncle out before he took things on a tangent.
"What I do believe in? That the Lord gave us these powers for a reason. And it wasn't to rule, but it wasn't to just throw them away, neither. It's a talent for magic, the biggest magic there is, right? So we have to guide people without magic, but that don't mean we're their kings, let alone 'Gods' or whatever else the Seers babble on about. When you want to know about God, you go to a preacher, right? And if you wanna learn about history you go to a historian?"
"Yes," Miriam agreed, "Are you saying Mages are...specialists?"
"Yeah. We're good at magic, and so we needta help people who aren't, but they all have their own strengths. I couldn't run a country, 'an Shadow over there would make a terrible...I dunno, merchant."
"Yes, yes. I am caught out," Jack said, waving his hand almost lazily.
"I think that makes sense," Miriam said. Which didn't mean she agreed, but she wanted to hear more.
"So, some people say the world's a prison and a lie, and maybe the Exarchs or whatnot are up there, causing problems. And if so they have to be dealt with."
Exarchs. She filed that name away for later consideration. She'd heard the name before, though not in reference to anything that was magical. But perhaps the name mattered?
"But the world's got enough problems already as well. You have to tend to the dyin' if people are going to listen to you while they're living. The Ladder even knows it, I think, with all the help they sometimes try to bring to people. So we help advise and guide the world towards a better way. And some of us do Hoodoo and Voodoo and other stuff, and I don't always like that one lick, but…"
She shrugged, "It's God's work. People just need help cause out there, there are spirits and monsters and everything else. It ain't safe to be without a Mage any more than it's spiritually safe to be without a pastor or other worshippers. You can't go it alone, by God."
"That makes sense," Miriam said, "So...the Folk guide people?"
"And heal and see for them and ward them from evil," Jack said, "Among other things. Ideally, at least."
"Ideally?" Miriam asked.
"Now, like I said, If we have hoodoo ideas then we have people using it to bring curses on people jus' cause of silly reasons. Or...anything that people do that's wrong. But we try to set them straight."
"It sounds like a noble cause," Miriam said, "And what do you do in Chicago?"
"More than we used to," Eve said, "Ever since that horrible war started." She shuddered, and then placed her hand on Miriam's shoulder. "It's a good thing you Awakened past all that trouble--"
"If it is past," Jack said, absently.
"Shh," Eve said, and then patted Miriam on the shoulder, smiling wide. "I feel like you too should have a blessing. Something to help keep you going for a while. To show we means no harm. You going to show her around, Shadow?"
"Yes. To every Order, so she can choose," Jack said, "Really choose."
"You…" Eve paused, glancing between Miriam and Jack. Realizing something, perhaps. "That's nice of you."
"Thanks. I do try. When forced to," Jack added, tapping his cane on the hard floor.
"So, I could help you a little, just a bit of a...pick me up, if you wanted. And then we could do one of a few things." She frowned, "If you wanted to see some of the mystics, you could. Learn 'bout magic other than Awakened stuff, or we could talk a little more, I could tell you about what my days are like, or we could go talk with John."
Miriam frowned, considering it, "And what's this blessing."
"Well…" she began, quietly, looking Miriam up and down. Her magic was the creeping of vines and a feeling of peace, when she was close enough to really see and feel it, and she felt the magic cast out. Looking at her. "I was thinkin', maybe…"
What does she do?
[] A little pick me up: For the next week, Miriam just as a little more energy. Which admittedly could be a bit much to handle in terms of getting antsy, but could also help her get through long days of casting strange magic and dealing with the impossible.
[] Speak to animals: Birds and beasts! Oh to be a Disney protagonist decades early!
[] Heightened Senses: New senses, stronger senses. Smell and touch and hearing, all at her command for a week. It might be a little distracting while she tries to get used to it all, though.
And where does she go?
[] Talk to Eve some more.
[] Go meet with some of the Thaumaturges and Psychics (IE mystics) that are members of the Folk.
[] Go talk with John, the Baptist preacher.
[] Write-in.
*****
A/N: And there we go! At last. Also, I'm trying to be reasonable in showing off everyone's beliefs and how they interact and so on.
Also, get used to Awakening stories. One way or another you're going to hear a goodly deal of them over time because they're central to one's beliefs. Not that everyone will just outright tell it, let alone disguised before Sleepers, but!
It was also fun using what I'd learned of how many African (and to a lesser extent through cultural inheritence African American) Christian ministers reported having visions or being called in dreams by God to serve as a pastor. And the negative/reverse symbolism is something actually recorded in dream interpretation, including African-American dream interpretation. And the mystery of how spirit and flesh became one in the form of Jesus occupied a *lot* of early Christian debate, so...!
Two people dressed in Sunday clothes walked down the street, glancing this way and that at the South Side in all its glory and color. Certainly the Strand was nice any time of day, but a Sunday morning probably wasn't the best time to see the real bustle of the crowded ghetto. People selling things on the street, people making their homes and going to the theatre or a club, or a dance hall, and then all of those people going to and from work, it could get quite busy sometimes. But now wasn't one of those times.
Every so often, the man would stop in the conversation to talk to the young girl, who was a teenage girl, and drew rather less notice than the man did.
"Jack, I'm starting to think you don't watch much baseball," Miriam said, smiling, tilting up to look at him. Not that he was that much taller, only perhaps 5'7, but an extra inch and so of height and decades of age meant that despite the fact that her uncle was sometimes a bit of a strange fellow, she'd always looked up to him. Now that she knew he was magical, it was hard to miss. It seemed to speak in everything he did, his odd thoughtfulness...and his less strange thoughtlessness. It was as if she were looking at a picture from a different angle.
He wasn't a different person.
"No, I mean, I've heard of Rube, who hasn't. Best pitcher anyone's ever seen," he said.
"Really? He's great, but that was decades ago," Miriam said, forcefully, "He's in charge of the Giants, and better for it, but…though there is his brother." Willie Foster, a pitcher like nobody's business. She'd seen him pitch once and he'd barely let anyone touch a base, at least on a good day. "But we lost last year," Miriam pointed out, "Those Monarchs just…" She made a troubled gesture in the air, "But still. With all the players running to and fro."
"Ah, now there's something I can tell you. No contract in the world is going to keep a man from going where the money's better if there's not more security," Jack said, "Plus there's going down to Cuba and Mexico--"
"I know," Miriam said. A ton of Negro League players went to Latin America (or Florida for exhibition games) in the winter, or stayed there where they were stars. If they were good enough, at least. Less prejudice, everyone said, but it did mean that plenty of good players just ran off and didn't go back to the states until they had to. If at all.
"Really, it's so strange that they'd go to a country that treated them like men," Jack said, tapping his cane on the ground a little playfully, "Honestly, one's baffled sometimes at the lack of loyalty of the Negro race to their betters. It confuses me," he said, his voice as dry as sandpaper. "Though I suppose the cuban cigars are a bit of a draw. Just another way Latin America is trying to seduce people away from America." He glanced around as he half-darted forward, as if in the steps of a dance, "I've heard it's lovely down there by the beaches, you know?"
Ah. If she let him, he'd talk about Cuba the whole way, however little that was. So she went straight back to the topic, plunging somewhat stolidly onward. "Still, I'm sure we'll do better this season. Either way, I suppose you're too busy to--"
"I've gone with you to games before," Jack said, "Don't get me wrong...hrm, what should I even call you? A shadow name is supposed to mean something, and I wouldn't want to burden you with a name that'll last forever." He paused. "Like mine. Someone saw my Nimbus, and when I first got to Chicago, I'd use my powers to sneak into white dance halls and the like, just to see what the big deal was. And then someone called me, 'The dancing shadow' and I was a stupid enough kid to own it rather than telling them to shove it."
"Ah," she said, "Sounds rough. So I need a name that's temporary?"
"Well...too bad there aren't any female baseball stars," Jack said, which almost caused Miriam to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "Well, oh there's an idea. Just temporarily."
"What?"
"Well, how does Ruth sound? Foremother of Jesus, and then there's the ball player. Did pretty well I hear, last October."
Miriam had opinions about the name, but nodded. "Sure, that sounds good for a temporary name. I don't know how complex or meaningful the names are supposed to be."
"What matters is that you don't look like an idiot calling yourself that. And sometimes picking a symbolic name changes things. Mars knew what he was doing when he called himself as he did," Jack said. "I personally am waiting for bated breath for the moment it's revealed that he had an affair with a crippled man's wife and he gets publicly humiliated for it."
Miriam, who knew her mythology, couldn't help but chuckle. Mars and Venus. The Greek and Roman myths were rather cruel things, at times.
"Though usually it's not so literal. Perhaps nothing will happen, or perhaps he'll attempt to ally himself in some way in the future with a woman, only to be shown up by another in politics. Either way...ah, and here we are."
Storefront churches were exactly what they sounded like. The banners and signs helped distinguish them, and each small little storefront in a strip across the street, competing for time and space. Some had colorful banners, and there were people streaming into each. They couldn't hold that many people, and if they got big enough, they'd have to move into a larger church. Jack moved unerringly towards one, as he began talking about mythology in general, chatting as she chattered back, paying half a mind to her other train of thought.
******
In her other train of thoughts, she considered the matter from all angles and came to a few careful conclusions.
Alright, she decided. It was clear that Jack had biases. Silver Ladder seemed to be involved at least more than average in the running of the Consilium, though that was just a guess. Arrows, he'd said, were less likely to become a Hierarch, and no Guardian was mentioned as either being in the running or being the Hierarch, though the word of the day was 'sample size.'
What else could she learn? If the Folk came from up south following their people, that implied a relationship...well, her Uncle had said it. Like the way that preachers followed their flocks after half of them moved to Chicago or other cities. That was a causal relationship of sorts. It was a link. A hint of how they might work.
These 'Seers of the Throne' must be the enemies that Jack was speaking of, and it was clear he hated them. They'd murdered the mayor, essentially, of magical Chicago, and they'd taken control of the mayor of regular Chicago. Dozens of murders, and they had to have been able to hide it. Unless almost everyone who died in the riots was a Mage. So, they had the power to cover up that sort of things.
"Make it look like an accident" criminals always said in those pulp mysteries. Well, with magic no doubt the accidents could look even more accidental. And so, there had been a war, and then the war had...ended.
And yet Jack mentioned the Seers with their grips on another somewhat important mortal. She'd heard of Capone, at least, and she knew he was involved in breaking prohibition, and any number of shady or murderous acts.
And so were the Seers, then. So the Folk and the...The Uprising had joined up, agreed to be bound by the laws of the Diamond. One assumes with representation. Before that, what were they? Perhaps like the Indian tribes. Subject to the rules and force of the Diamond Orders, whatever that meant, when they could apply it, and no further, and not citizens in any case. Citizens, what a word to talk about with a magical government.
So, other details. Isaac was clearly disliked by Jack, and he seemed to have reasons for it, but if she met him, she should be polite, respectful, and try to get his side of things. After all, as powerful as he was, he'd matter either way, and it would hurt nothing to understand him. The same applied to Ostanes. That said, she wasn't important, she was just a new Mage, and while she couldn't know how common they were…
She wasn't sure if she bought the idea that she was a special asset that they would all fight over. It made no sense to Miriam, the idea that she might be specially important. So she was not likely to meet either of them anytime soon, but when she did, she should do so with an open mind and a respectful heart, in order to see…
Well, maybe she was also just curious about what a "necromancer and alchemist" could do, or what someone close to whatever an "Archmage" was was like. Magic was already something that seemed remarkably powerful, if also unsteady, so she couldn't imagine what the most powerful Mage in Chicago could do.
...really, Rube? It'd been years and years since he'd played and…
Focus. So, she was going to meet the Folk. If many of them came up with the people from the South, that implied a large Negro contingent, which was certainly a comforting thought in a way she knew was probably not entirely good. So she was going to keep her ears open, her heart open, but try not to talk back or argue too much. Polite, respectful, and see what people say.
There were other things to think about as well, as far as the nature of the universe. Psychics and 'thaumaturges' whatever those were. Other categories of beings beyond Mages. And he'd mentioned spirits, whatever those were. And necromancy implied ghosts of some kind. There was a whole wider world, beyond Cuba--could he teleport across large distances, or was it just short term?--and beyond Mages alone.
'Ah, and here we are.'
Oh. Well. She might as well continue to consider things all the while.
*****
It was not a very large church, even though the space was clearly being used to its fullest extent. The whole room was--
Her eyes supplied the dimensions, and she shook her head. Not much. There were about two dozen benches, as well as two wooden chairs put out, and the walls were plastered with pictures from the bible and posters. Up front, there was a stool and two figures. One was a very dark skinned Negro wearing all white vestments, his hair graying, perhaps fifty or so, not much older than her father, but with a face more lined with worry and care. The other was a woman, probably in her sixties, with skin a shade or two lighter. Plump, and wearing a shapeless white dress, her face heavy. But just like Valkyrie, there was a certain solidity to her, though she couldn't quite place it, until she looked at her with her Sight.
It looked as if vines were creeping up her skin, blooming vines whose flowers were white, and she had to assume that was an active spell. She was curious about what it did, actually. But vines made her think of nature, and so perhaps it invigorated her? Or perhaps it did nothing at all. The man had no such spells on him.
"There they are," Jack said, "Both of them are Mages." He said it under his breath, as she glanced around at others.
The benches were all being filled with people. All told, there were dozens of people here, and if anything Miriam could have stood to have dressed rather better. Everyone was clearly dressed in the best they could wear, all of it colorful. There were more women than men, by a fair enough margin, and they looked like people of all age. Negroes of all age, that was. Off to the side, Jack gestured towards two seats.
People were muttering greetings, and Miriam hoped that she didn't stand out too much. This made her nervous, even though it shouldn't have. Still, this was a house of God, and so she breathed in and out.
"Don't worry, they're both pretty nice." He sat down in the chair and gestured for her to sit next to him.
The rustling was dying down, and it was only a few moments before the man began speaking. "Greetings brothers and sisters of Christ. Last night I had a dream, a dream like many I'd had before, a dream from God himself."
The people made approving noises. 'Mmm-hmm' and the like. Miriam frowned, watching. God certainly could send visions if he wanted, of course.
"He told me that today there'd be a birth to celebrate soon, one of our own seeing some good fortune."
His voice was booming, and melodious, as one woman stood up.
"It was my gran'daughter, Pastor, the one that ran away. She came back and said she wanted to get right with God, but she was pregnant. She's going to give birth soon."
He smiled, and it was a warm, caring smile. She knew it might be fake, but if so, it was a cunningly crafted fake. "These are good tidings." He paused and said, "And we are here because of another birth to come, a birth that shall come again. So let us sing, gladly and with joy--"
Miriam noticed that there were only a few hymnal books, each held by particular people, and she understood at once the logic. They would sing it, and the others would follow. It was a spiritual about the birth of Jesus Christ, low and almost sad, and yet there was an element, a single strand of hope that she took up when she stood and sung with them. None of them were 'shouting', though they were rather more enthusiastic in their singing...more enthusiastic than skilled, but she could feel their faith, almost.
She could tell they believed, as truly and deeply as those in larger, more well attended churches.
After that, he moved onto talking about several bible verses. Jesus' life was what he talked about, and he began with the incident of the Fig Tree, before moving then and suddenly, switching gears so fast that Miriam felt as if she might have missed something, to Paul and his letters, and then, swinging around, to the signs of Jesus' birth.
"He was born alone, but on this earth he had fellows! On this earth he had friends and family, and after he left this earth, he left a church. He took a human form and lived a human life," he said, "Just like you or I."
"Amen," Miriam muttered along with the congregation, for it was a good point. Her father had talked about that sometime, the seeming contradiction of the son of God, one of the trinity, and how his humanity was so vital to the faith.
"And he came down and saved us, and he didn't have to. God didn't owe humanity nothing, from the way we was acting," he said, his accent thickening as he spoke, his words growing louder. He had no notes, and not even in the sense of like how Dad always cast them aside to extemporize. "And yet he saved us!"
"Amen," the congregation yelled, stamping their feet, and Miriam felt it. The shift, the difference, the way the emotions were coalescing as he continued to speak. Shout, more like it, and one woman began to stomp her feet more than the rest as he raised his voice, and she felt it too.
"Nothing...interesting. There are spirits here, but…" Jack said, thoughtfully, "At most they've encouraged certain spirits and discouraged others."
The part of her that was still considering the implications of things filed it away, but that wasn't most of her at all.
She joined in, and she felt it coming on. It was a sort of mania, a sort of warm, light feeling in her veins. It was the fact that this was good preaching. True preaching, and she always felt like that when her Dad really got a sermon going, but this...it had different purposes. It didn't want to make her think, it made her want to stomp. It made her body want to move…
And so Miriam, that most physical and intellectual of persons, embraced one. Discarded another, and she lost herself in the moment as the sermon rose to its climax.
******
She should have been humiliated. Her knees had almost buckled at one point, and her heart was racing, her breath coming a little short from the movements. She wasn't a dancer, but...it was dancing but it also wasn't. It was more like her body was trying to follow her spirit than anything so simple as dancing itself. She...hadn't thought she'd lose herself like that, and her Uncle had watched her with what almost looked like dismay, except it couldn't be, could it?
Though of course, the part of her still analyzing things, though it had stopped for a while, almost ending the spell pointed out: he'd been flummoxed often enough. As confidant as he was, deep down to his bones, that didn't mean he couldn't be a little silly. Of course, that was the sort of thought it was hard to keep when she'd seen him teleport across a room. When she'd seen him read minds and split his ownmind into two.
Still...all things were possible, including the fact that he might well be silly...and wise.
Towards the end of the Sunday service, which was far better than she expected, and left her feeling charged with God's grandeur, the tone changed.
"I ask now, for those who are sick, for those who are troubled, in their bodies or their spirits, to rise up. To stand. For it is said that Christ took up our infirmities and bore our diseases, it is said that the Lord God grants power, that the Holy Spirit can move a man, can fill a man, and I feel it coming on me! I feel the Lord's hand moving my body, and the Lord's calling me again! Calling me," he shouted, "To heal the sick, to bind their wounds, to make whole what was broken. And so come up! Come up!"
A few stood, one of them shakily, and the woman had been with the preacher, who had stood to the side and sung and worshipped the whole while, walked forward.
"Ah...I've never been...and here we go. Watch her," Jack said, and Miriam frowned, looking closely.
Three people were coming up. A man who was limping, a woman who looked like she was half collapsed, exhausted from the service alone, and a woman who had to be around thirty. Each of them was dressed as best as they could be, but they obviously wore clothes that they only wore once a week. Not that anyone was exactly rich by certain standards on the South Side. The woman touched each of them on the shoulder as she led them forward, and Miriam stared as the vines seemed to lash out, but gently, moving onto their bodies for a moment.
"Clever. He's not even going to do any magic on them," Jack muttered, "She's doing it, and then when the Abyss and all of these Sleepers is ready to see some magic...and it's already been done. But it'd take them time, I bet, to really realize it. They're expecting to be healed in a minute, or two or three, and so that's what they'll think."
Miriam could see it, the way she was casting spells. Healing spells, Miriam had to assume, and thought about how useful that was. Practical even. Helping people. "Can she...heal anything?"
"From what I've heard of Eve? No. Not here and now with no prep work and a bunch of potential witnesses. But she can cure plenty enough, and she could pep people up now. And then later she could do a fuller ritual, make a production out of checking on them, and then doing a more thorough job."
Miriam watched, fascinated. And then the preacher began to speak. "I have told this story before, but we have guests. Visitors. They have made themselves welcome and have heard our service." Now people were looking back at Miriam, and she tried to sit up straight. "So let me tell them of it, the dream that God sent me, when he called me to ministry and healing. I dreamed of a wedding and a birth: a funeral and a death--"
"What?" Miriam whispered to Jack.
"Didn't your father teach you anything about dream...no, of course not. Dream signs are inverted. Dreaming of a funeral is good, dreaming of a birth is bad. Being eaten by an animal you're going to hun: good. So on. So forth. It...has some truth in some places."
Meanwhile, the preacher continued to speak. "The wedding of flesh and spirit! Jesus took the form of stuff, just stuff--"
Miriam was watching him closely as he gestured, but she also saw Jack holding out his hands and pulling back two fingers. Counting something.
"Took it even though he'd have to die. Took it even though to be matter, to be flesh, was death itself. I saw it, I knew he knew it. All time is one to God, he knew when he screamed his first breath, when the very energy of the Godhead entered a person...he knew! He knew he'd die, that this was his destiny! And yet he gave, and yet his father gave…"
Jack had one hand counted out.
"And so he lived. He lived like you and me, and I saw that, I saw that with all of my being! I saw Christ!"
"Amen! Amen!"
"He was power itself, the power of God who holds the whole world in his hand, the majesty. A burning bush, a roaring inferno, the waters parting! I was there! I sawed it with my own eyes!"
Jack had eight fingers pulled back.
"And I knew somewhere, in my head, I knew that God was there every step of the way. Ain't no distance between God and man at all. And I saw the birth that was the death on the cross, the blessed cross. And they asked me to officiate. God did. Asked me to see to the wedding. An I know you've heard this a thousand times before--"
He was crying, and Jack was watching, oddly moved. "Ten…" he muttered to himself, "All ten...and without even saying it…"
"But I saw God! And so be healed! Be healed and walk with the Lord!" And he stepped forward, and Miriam watched him, watched him with something almost like awe.
"That," she began, "What's he called?"
"The Folk prefer simple names, usually. He's John. A baptist." Jack quirked a smile, but Miriam couldn't smile at all. Or maybe that's all she should be doing, because he impressed her a lot.
******
After the healing, there was one more song, and then a collection plate, and Miriam and Jack moved when people were starting to leave. Miriam composed herself, smoothing her skirts as she got up, feeling out of place as she walked towards Eve. John was talking to several members of the congregation, and so now was the time to 'strike.'
Still, she was nervous. She'd be meeting another Mage, and not her own Uncle, who was sorta...biased in her favor. She wanted to make a good impression so badly. "Remember, I'm...say, Dancer. Or Shadow. And I'll be calling you Ruth."
"Understood," Miriam said, carefully. "Do you think it'll fool them?"
"It...might," Jack said, "At the very least, it's something."
Eve was watching them as they approached. Up close, she definitely looked better preserved than most people her age, which seemed as if it were in her sixties. She looked like a woman who had survived a lot of life, and had come out the other side intact through burdens that would have broken another person. Or maybe she was reading too much, but there was a tired sort of peace on her face. To Miriam's eyes, at least.
"Eve, I would like you to introduce someone who I'll call Ruth for the moment." Miriam didn't actually like some of the biblical implications of Ruth, but it did work.
Even looked at her, a little curiously, as if waiting to see what she'd do. "Pleased to meet you, Eve. The service was amazing."
"Amazing?" Eve asked. "I saw you shouting."
"I felt the call to do so," Miriam said, and she didn't blush. Now that it was done, there was no room in her for shame at it. Her beliefs were not something to be embarrassed about. "God is everywhere...but picking somewhere helps too. And this place, it's small, but that doesn't mean…"
"It means nothin' at all," Eve said, smiling. "Do you mind if I have a look at you, Ruth? It's a lovely name, by the way."
"Better than Shadow," Jack said, wryly, but Miriam ignored him for the moment, nodding.
"May I...look back?" Miriam asked.
"Of course," Eve said, and then against her expectations she pulled Miriam into a hug. Miriam struggled to form the 'imago' fast enough, and let out a breath, just allowing herself to calm down for a moment. There was no rush, and the hug ended but she could always touch the woman's shoulder.
Even whistled and said, "The Lord's in you, Ruth, doing good work through you."
"Thank you," Miriam said, and she reached out to touch Eve on the shoulder again. And failed yet again, this time because she was too busy thinking about what Eve had seen. Then she felt it all align, the spell simpler than she'd expected now that she was focused. Eve stood before her, head flashing with green and grey, and then…
Eve was loyal, someone who stood by her church and stood by her God to the very end, and yet this very diligence could sometimes be plodding, simple. Abused. She was not strong of mind, not compared to, say, her Uncle, but she had a strong force of personality about her, as if to make up for it.
"Mind too? Interesting," Jack said. "Rare too, for a Thyrsus."
But Miriam was still speaking. "What he was describing, was it his Awakening? It sounded spiritual, just like mine was."
"Ahh. How new are you?" Eve asked, and then chuckled when Miriam hesitated, "You don't have to tell me, girl. Ruth, it's good to meet another person. I assume Dancing Shadow here wanted to show you around, maybe? I've never met him, and he doesn't seem the religious type--"
"He's a good man. I've...seen it. I know it," Miriam insisted, and then flushed a little, "But either way, I did want to learn about the Folk, if I may ask."
"So polite," Eve said, approvingly. "Well, we're not like the Ladders, though many of them are plenty good, and I've heard that Shadow's an ally. He wasn't polite the one time I met him, but he helped me anyways."
"I am an ally...of sorts. I try to be everyone's friend," Jack said, "Or perhaps to simply be amusingly diverting for everyone…"
"What do you believe in?" Miriam asked, knowing to try to tune her Uncle out before he took things on a tangent.
"What I do believe in? That the Lord gave us these powers for a reason. And it wasn't to rule, but it wasn't to just throw them away, neither. It's a talent for magic, the biggest magic there is, right? So we have to guide people without magic, but that don't mean we're their kings, let alone 'Gods' or whatever else the Seers babble on about. When you want to know about God, you go to a preacher, right? And if you wanna learn about history you go to a historian?"
"Yes," Miriam agreed, "Are you saying Mages are...specialists?"
"Yeah. We're good at magic, and so we needta help people who aren't, but they all have their own strengths. I couldn't run a country, 'an Shadow over there would make a terrible...I dunno, merchant."
"Yes, yes. I am caught out," Jack said, waving his hand almost lazily.
"I think that makes sense," Miriam said. Which didn't mean she agreed, but she wanted to hear more.
"So, some people say the world's a prison and a lie, and maybe the Exarchs or whatnot are up there, causing problems. And if so they have to be dealt with."
Exarchs. She filed that name away for later consideration. She'd heard the name before, though not in reference to anything that was magical. But perhaps the name mattered?
"But the world's got enough problems already as well. You have to tend to the dyin' if people are going to listen to you while they're living. The Ladder even knows it, I think, with all the help they sometimes try to bring to people. So we help advise and guide the world towards a better way. And some of us do Hoodoo and Voodoo and other stuff, and I don't always like that one lick, but…"
She shrugged, "It's God's work. People just need help cause out there, there are spirits and monsters and everything else. It ain't safe to be without a Mage any more than it's spiritually safe to be without a pastor or other worshippers. You can't go it alone, by God."
"That makes sense," Miriam said, "So...the Folk guide people?"
"And heal and see for them and ward them from evil," Jack said, "Among other things. Ideally, at least."
"Ideally?" Miriam asked.
"Now, like I said, If we have hoodoo ideas then we have people using it to bring curses on people jus' cause of silly reasons. Or...anything that people do that's wrong. But we try to set them straight."
"It sounds like a noble cause," Miriam said, "And what do you do in Chicago?"
"More than we used to," Eve said, "Ever since that horrible war started." She shuddered, and then placed her hand on Miriam's shoulder. "It's a good thing you Awakened past all that trouble--"
"If it is past," Jack said, absently.
"Shh," Eve said, and then patted Miriam on the shoulder, smiling wide. "I feel like you too should have a blessing. Something to help keep you going for a while. To show we means no harm. You going to show her around, Shadow?"
"Yes. To every Order, so she can choose," Jack said, "Really choose."
"You…" Eve paused, glancing between Miriam and Jack. Realizing something, perhaps. "That's nice of you."
"Thanks. I do try. When forced to," Jack added, tapping his cane on the hard floor.
"So, I could help you a little, just a bit of a...pick me up, if you wanted. And then we could do one of a few things." She frowned, "If you wanted to see some of the mystics, you could. Learn 'bout magic other than Awakened stuff, or we could talk a little more, I could tell you about what my days are like, or we could go talk with John."
Miriam frowned, considering it, "And what's this blessing."
"Well…" she began, quietly, looking Miriam up and down. Her magic was the creeping of vines and a feeling of peace, when she was close enough to really see and feel it, and she felt the magic cast out. Looking at her. "I was thinkin', maybe…"
What does she do?
[] A little pick me up: For the next week, Miriam just as a little more energy. Which admittedly could be a bit much to handle in terms of getting antsy, but could also help her get through long days of casting strange magic and dealing with the impossible.
[] Speak to animals: Birds and beasts! Oh to be a Disney protagonist decades early!
[] Heightened Senses: New senses, stronger senses. Smell and touch and hearing, all at her command for a week. It might be a little distracting while she tries to get used to it all, though.
And where does she go?
[] Talk to Eve some more.
[] Go meet with some of the Thaumaturges and Psychics (IE mystics) that are members of the Folk.
[] Go talk with John, the Baptist preacher.
[] Write-in.
*****
Blending In: 2 (Presence)+3 (Preacher's Daughter)=5 dice=2 sux
Feeling the Spirit (Feel it): 2 (Presence)+3 (Preacher's Daughter)+3 (Willpower)=8 dice=4 sux, you do a little Shouting yourself.
Controlling The Feeling: 2 (Composure)+3 (Willpower)=Failure
Uncle Jack touches your shoulder...you've calmed down.
That was...Willpower regained by the display of faith even when it was 'unseemly'/whatnot.
Hearing the Lecture/Explanation/Seeing the 'Trick': 4 (Int)-1 (Failure)=1 sux, got the gist of it.
Talking to the Thyrsus: 2 (Presence)+3 (Preacher's Daughter)=5 dice=...Destiny point spent. ¾ remaining so far. Roll again...5 sux. Great job.
Destiny: ¾
Thyrsus is scanning you...she has Mind?! Huh.
Scan Her Back: 1 (Mind)+1 (Gnosis)=Failure
Try again: 2-1 (Failure/rush)=1 dice=success
What do you see?
Virtue: Loyalty
Vice: Diligence: Sometimes she sticks to something that's not working even when she should try something new.
Social Dice Pool: 9
Mental Dice Pool: 8
Let's Say Make it a Choice…
Feeling the Spirit (Feel it): 2 (Presence)+3 (Preacher's Daughter)+3 (Willpower)=8 dice=4 sux, you do a little Shouting yourself.
Controlling The Feeling: 2 (Composure)+3 (Willpower)=Failure
Uncle Jack touches your shoulder...you've calmed down.
That was...Willpower regained by the display of faith even when it was 'unseemly'/whatnot.
Hearing the Lecture/Explanation/Seeing the 'Trick': 4 (Int)-1 (Failure)=1 sux, got the gist of it.
Talking to the Thyrsus: 2 (Presence)+3 (Preacher's Daughter)=5 dice=...Destiny point spent. ¾ remaining so far. Roll again...5 sux. Great job.
Destiny: ¾
Thyrsus is scanning you...she has Mind?! Huh.
Scan Her Back: 1 (Mind)+1 (Gnosis)=Failure
Try again: 2-1 (Failure/rush)=1 dice=success
What do you see?
Virtue: Loyalty
Vice: Diligence: Sometimes she sticks to something that's not working even when she should try something new.
Social Dice Pool: 9
Mental Dice Pool: 8
Let's Say Make it a Choice…
A/N: And there we go! At last. Also, I'm trying to be reasonable in showing off everyone's beliefs and how they interact and so on.
Also, get used to Awakening stories. One way or another you're going to hear a goodly deal of them over time because they're central to one's beliefs. Not that everyone will just outright tell it, let alone disguised before Sleepers, but!
It was also fun using what I'd learned of how many African (and to a lesser extent through cultural inheritence African American) Christian ministers reported having visions or being called in dreams by God to serve as a pastor. And the negative/reverse symbolism is something actually recorded in dream interpretation, including African-American dream interpretation. And the mystery of how spirit and flesh became one in the form of Jesus occupied a *lot* of early Christian debate, so...!
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