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Posted: Sun Jul 16, 2017 6:46 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 16, 2017 6:52 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 16, 2017 7:23 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 16, 2017 8:01 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2017 3:17 pm
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Jeremiah smiled at America, briefly stepping beside her and squeezing her shoulder lightly. There were a few things to do, to prepare the magic they were about to do, but they were already done. On the ground around the tree where Pax rested, an array had been drawn. Something to help channel the magic and focus on.
"Shiloh, if you could stand here please." Jeremiah gestured for him to stand near the array, as the primary caster. "America, near him please. If the rest could fan out behind the pair of them." He stood in place as example, after both America and Shiloh had moved.
"Focus your magic, share it with America. What is done, is done, and we are laying to rest someone who served this world for a long time. It is the least we can do to honor their memory." With one final look between Shiloh and America, he nodded. Once they both gave the cue, people could start to focus and the magic could be weaved.
Jeremiah's own magic, innately cold, was focused as he thought of Pax. The one that had blessed his garden - though not the current one - and had inadvertently shaped the way of his magic in this world. With thoughts of Pax in mind, of seeing them at rest and at ease, a thread of his magic was offered out to America to work with.
Quote: america is free to do the threading, shiloh is free to do the tree making, everyone else? you're saying your goodbyes to pax and helping give the magics ~
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2017 10:04 pm
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It was a different feeling, from casting the new charter. Different from the sigil before that. Different even from the testing done with Leila and Kaleb. The same steps though, power and intent, freely given. In this space, they are not as one, hearts in tune and powers linked; but in purpose, there was a sharing. None of those gathered had watched a cycle turn, had watched life and death gradually lose meaning. Would hopefully never have to. And so there was that, the gathering of life to acknowledge death, of a loss in the pattern of the world that had traveled with them.
America's magic is a bright, warm feeling. It's laying in a patch of sunshine on a quiet day. It's safe and it's home. As she accepts the offered strands of magic, she wills them to blend into a series of light blues, explaining quietly as she goes, "For tranquility. For a gentle moving on. For wisdom."
As the plait comes together, the woven magic reaches Shiloh.
Quote: feel free to post a description of the feel/flavor of their magic cause i love that stuff ok
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2017 6:35 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2017 7:21 am
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Rabbit moved the kids over to where Jeremiah had directed those lending their power, kneeling between them and whispering a few quiet instructions. Following that, he shifted his thoughts to Pax, recalling his terror at their first meeting and his concern over their last. Even faced with that concern, he had done nothing to help, thinking that someone more important would take care of things. He should have done more. While they hadn't exactly been friends, Pax would be missed.
The power he extended to America was warm like hers and Kaleb's, but where their magic was comforting and bright, Rabbit's was a focused beam of clean energy, purposeful and helpful now, but prone to setting things on fire and burning out people's eyes when it didn't have a clear target.
And from the children, meandering twin threads of magic that felt like distant birdsong.
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2017 1:05 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2017 4:59 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2017 6:40 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 31, 2017 7:24 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 03, 2017 7:45 pm
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They began.
Shiloh waited patiently as everyone began to cast, his own eyes half lidded as he focused on the cool body before him. Hellbine's presence did not go unnoticed as the young man dipped down to curl his fingers in his fur, the vines at his shoes intermingling with his own magic. The tendrils began to bloom into small, delicate looking blue flowers.
Forget-me-nots.
And Shiloh had a lot of feelings too when it came to Pax, as he did when it came to Pride and likewise to Noeh. They weren't the ones who broke his bones or ground his blood sweat and tears into the immaculate halls of the Court, but they were the ones who gouged open the back of a young girl and transformed her into the b***h that abused him. It was Pax who took him back to the place he'd narrowly escaped from. It was Pax who softly informed him and all the other Nobles of what they were now and what they were supposed to do. Shiloh had been in a bad place. He projected a lot of that fury and instability on the deceased triplet.
But now he was here laying the b*****d to rest, and in a way it was cathartic. Shiloh had never been bothered by death, not really, but this was a specific kind of closure that he didn't know he wanted. More importantly, that he didn't know he needed, and he made a mental note to thank Kaleb for finally talking him into coming.
He stood up again slowly. America's thread of everyone's magic crept up on him without him realizing it.
It was a lot like the casting at the sigil, in such a way that it was nothing like it and yet there was nothing else to compare it to. It felt like a whirlwind of seasons, as if someone was cycling through a camera's film in rapid motion, everything happening one after another in quick snap fire clicks. America's magic was warm and he felt it mingle together with Kaleb's and Rabbit's and he just knew who the magic belonged to, like each cast had an innate fingerprint to it that he couldn't put into words, and as the summery warmth faded off into something cooler he could discern Algernon and the dappled light. Autumn. And then the cool shadow of winter as a chill came over his body, the other pair of the Mercer conglomerate and Shun there too with his ever eerie, ever imposing stature.
It wasn't until he came to parsing Leila's magic that he maybe understood, that maybe it was her that brought forward this sort of momentary clarity when it came to understanding the power flowing through him. He felt like a gate, like he could turn the key and subdue the lock, but he didn't. He let it pass through him.
At this point the flowers had over overcome him. They started at his feet and worked up his legs and now his shoulders was a canopy of green, his hair tousled with soft golden flowers and his cheeks dotted with buds like they were living freckles. At his fingertips was a soft green glow. It almost felt as if the entire grove was listening in—like the trees had eyes and they were watching—and the flora around him seemed to obey too. Perhaps the trees were mourning themselves. At Pax's frame the grass started to give way, his body started to slowly encase in gentle hued peonies, and then—
From winter comes spring. Shiloh's magic was palpable by sheer virtue of their intimate casting, and it smelled clear and clean like rain and felt relieved like the cold was over, like life could come out of its deep sleep and grow anew again. It was fitting too, if only because the flowers and plants around Pax's body seemed to speed up, seemed to grow faster and intermingle with each other. Shiloh himself remained still, his chest refusing to move, his lungs refusing to breathe as he served as a conduit for their magic.
And then it happened in an instant. There was a release of the magic—a soft gush of wind—and in front of the group came a tree with deep blue bark and soft green leaves that, upon any closer examination, had the texture of petals. Even as the magic wound down and Shiloh finally found a chance to breathe, small flowers found the will to populate in the leaves, and even the bark in its navy blue glory started to darken and darken until it cooled to a purplish black. Shiloh himself staggered forward like his leg wanted to give out, but he caught himself as he gasped. He'd regain his composure soon enough.
The tree—more of a large sapling really—seemed to be imbued with life. The entire space had a strange, peaceful quality to it, and had Shiloh not been eager to go home he swore he could fall asleep under the canopy of leaves in a heartbeat. Still, there'd be another time and place for that. As it was...
Pax had been laid to rest.
Quote: sorry this got incredibly flowery (ha) but there u go! post wraps, do ur things
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