11-06-2017, 02:37 PM
October 31st, 2017
retrospect
Earthbound, the repercussions of the events of Halloween night could have been felt for an impressive radius from the mostly-rural property just shy of Boulder, Colorado. At the crescendo of Magick clashing and twining and tightening to a close, it was momentarily all but a beacon into the night. Thankfully they lived out among the mundane and the nobodies (save for themselves)-- that was part of the original intent with this house even before they inhabited it. A double-edged sword, there was nobody who would recognize the beacon to respond to it, and those left in its wake were left to fend for themselves.
Blood found its way onto almost every surface of the study, splashed gruesome across bookshelves and left in wide splatter arcs over the hardwood floor and overlapping rugs as well. It was heaviest in two other Focus points-- a stack of books in the center of a table, bubbling and hissing and frothing and sizzling with visible little blue arcs of electricity. Similarly doused was Margot Travers, on her knees and trembling with her eyes as two wide white spots in a form otherwise red red red.
Furniture was out of place, shoved across floors by a blasting force that had scattered books and papers alike, along with two other bodies in the room. One blonde-haired and curled on his side with eyes staring wide and unresponsive to the other side of the room, the other with dark hair and torn clothing tossed in a rag-doll position and slid half underneath a study table.
Everything was still, save the occasional sizzle and bubble and the electric cling of the air in general. The threat that had been present a minute before ws gone, trapped away for what would turn out to be another year (though Margot had no way of knowing that yet). With foe vanquished and nothing left to fight, the Goddess of Victory had no purpose with which to possess Her little disciple's body any longer, and so She receded back to whatever realm from whence she came. With the Goddess gone, only the girl-witch was left, and what was left of her was a shell. Weak and shaking from the toll of channeling and connecting to such magick and forces, Margot had about one full minute to think to call for help and look around fruitlessly for a phone that wasn't in the room, and then the world went black for her as well.
---------------------------
It was a full four hours later when Margot suddenly regained consciousness and found herself laying bruised on the floor. The room was still bright from the light overhead that had been left on, but the windows were still dark. She had no idea if it was the same night or a different one, but didn't stop to contemplate Time too hard for the image of Will's still back came swimming into focus soon after waking, jarring a jolt of panic into her breast by recalling the memory of two still bodies on the ground before she'd passed out. She jerked up into a sitting position and felt her skin pull as it left the sticky-drying impression of blood that her body had left on the floor where she'd been laying, groaned as she discovered bruising along her shoulders and chest and torso.
She went to both of the still forms of her cabalmates in turn, calling their names weakly to check for consciousness when she did. Will's shoulder was jostled and she scrambled around to find his face just as she remembered-- eyes open and blankly staring, arms loosely looped about knees as he lay on his side in a fetal position. Gone to the world, but his pulse and breathing seemed steady. She checked Ned to find him unresponsive and bleeding and crumpled, unable to wake but for what appeared to be different reasons just feeling his shallow breathing and seeing the grimace of pain even through the blackness of unconsciousness.
Neither would wake, and it was just her, bruised and tender and dazed and dizzy, unable to shake the electric buzz on her skin and in her sinuses and making her brain feel tender and swollen (though maybe that was just the backlash of reality, punishing her for refusing it so vigorously just hours before). Gingerly, Margot at last found her feet and staggered from the study to venture through the rest of the house.
First she went to the kitchen and washed the blood from her hands. There she found her phone on the counter and tried dialing Doc. It went to voicemail and recorded about five seconds of her still-stunned silence before realizing she couldn't yet explain what had happened and couldn't bring herself to ask a voicemail for help and ending the call-- no message recorded save a couple breaths and an obnoxious electric whine of back feed in the phone speaker.
Next she went to the bathroom downstairs and left her stripped bloodsoaked clothes in the sink, and rinsed-and-scrubbed herself as well she could in the several minutes she allowed herself for the task. Her hair would take another two thorough washes before it stopped running red, and her arms and chest felt too weak for the immediate task anyways. It was clipped up and dribbled red down her neck and between her shoulderblades to absorb in the towel she was wearing initially, and later into the black tee shirt that she'd changed into (along with gray sweats) before venturing back into the study.
Her breath caught for the smell of electric-burnt blood-and-flesh and copper conduit seemed stronger than ever. She huffed it back out before taking to the task of making her cabalmates as comfortable as possible while recovering and awaiting what come next, be it assistance or stark aftermath alone. She'd tucked a pillow under Will's head and covered him in a blanket, she couldn't help to move him much more than that. Ned was rolled onto his back and his limbs straightened out before being granted the same pillow-and-blanket treatment. She may have tried to move either of them if she were in prime shape and still failed, so much smaller was her frame than either of theirs, but at current she knew it would be a fruitless effort. They would need to remain on the floor.
Unable to summon the strength to do much more, the little Blood Witch collapsed in an armchair that had miraculously avoided bloodsplatter, unwilling to let the two stay in that room by themselves, and passed out once more in a curled up ball on the cushion of the chair.
retrospect
Earthbound, the repercussions of the events of Halloween night could have been felt for an impressive radius from the mostly-rural property just shy of Boulder, Colorado. At the crescendo of Magick clashing and twining and tightening to a close, it was momentarily all but a beacon into the night. Thankfully they lived out among the mundane and the nobodies (save for themselves)-- that was part of the original intent with this house even before they inhabited it. A double-edged sword, there was nobody who would recognize the beacon to respond to it, and those left in its wake were left to fend for themselves.
Blood found its way onto almost every surface of the study, splashed gruesome across bookshelves and left in wide splatter arcs over the hardwood floor and overlapping rugs as well. It was heaviest in two other Focus points-- a stack of books in the center of a table, bubbling and hissing and frothing and sizzling with visible little blue arcs of electricity. Similarly doused was Margot Travers, on her knees and trembling with her eyes as two wide white spots in a form otherwise red red red.
Furniture was out of place, shoved across floors by a blasting force that had scattered books and papers alike, along with two other bodies in the room. One blonde-haired and curled on his side with eyes staring wide and unresponsive to the other side of the room, the other with dark hair and torn clothing tossed in a rag-doll position and slid half underneath a study table.
Everything was still, save the occasional sizzle and bubble and the electric cling of the air in general. The threat that had been present a minute before ws gone, trapped away for what would turn out to be another year (though Margot had no way of knowing that yet). With foe vanquished and nothing left to fight, the Goddess of Victory had no purpose with which to possess Her little disciple's body any longer, and so She receded back to whatever realm from whence she came. With the Goddess gone, only the girl-witch was left, and what was left of her was a shell. Weak and shaking from the toll of channeling and connecting to such magick and forces, Margot had about one full minute to think to call for help and look around fruitlessly for a phone that wasn't in the room, and then the world went black for her as well.
---------------------------
It was a full four hours later when Margot suddenly regained consciousness and found herself laying bruised on the floor. The room was still bright from the light overhead that had been left on, but the windows were still dark. She had no idea if it was the same night or a different one, but didn't stop to contemplate Time too hard for the image of Will's still back came swimming into focus soon after waking, jarring a jolt of panic into her breast by recalling the memory of two still bodies on the ground before she'd passed out. She jerked up into a sitting position and felt her skin pull as it left the sticky-drying impression of blood that her body had left on the floor where she'd been laying, groaned as she discovered bruising along her shoulders and chest and torso.
She went to both of the still forms of her cabalmates in turn, calling their names weakly to check for consciousness when she did. Will's shoulder was jostled and she scrambled around to find his face just as she remembered-- eyes open and blankly staring, arms loosely looped about knees as he lay on his side in a fetal position. Gone to the world, but his pulse and breathing seemed steady. She checked Ned to find him unresponsive and bleeding and crumpled, unable to wake but for what appeared to be different reasons just feeling his shallow breathing and seeing the grimace of pain even through the blackness of unconsciousness.
Neither would wake, and it was just her, bruised and tender and dazed and dizzy, unable to shake the electric buzz on her skin and in her sinuses and making her brain feel tender and swollen (though maybe that was just the backlash of reality, punishing her for refusing it so vigorously just hours before). Gingerly, Margot at last found her feet and staggered from the study to venture through the rest of the house.
First she went to the kitchen and washed the blood from her hands. There she found her phone on the counter and tried dialing Doc. It went to voicemail and recorded about five seconds of her still-stunned silence before realizing she couldn't yet explain what had happened and couldn't bring herself to ask a voicemail for help and ending the call-- no message recorded save a couple breaths and an obnoxious electric whine of back feed in the phone speaker.
Next she went to the bathroom downstairs and left her stripped bloodsoaked clothes in the sink, and rinsed-and-scrubbed herself as well she could in the several minutes she allowed herself for the task. Her hair would take another two thorough washes before it stopped running red, and her arms and chest felt too weak for the immediate task anyways. It was clipped up and dribbled red down her neck and between her shoulderblades to absorb in the towel she was wearing initially, and later into the black tee shirt that she'd changed into (along with gray sweats) before venturing back into the study.
Her breath caught for the smell of electric-burnt blood-and-flesh and copper conduit seemed stronger than ever. She huffed it back out before taking to the task of making her cabalmates as comfortable as possible while recovering and awaiting what come next, be it assistance or stark aftermath alone. She'd tucked a pillow under Will's head and covered him in a blanket, she couldn't help to move him much more than that. Ned was rolled onto his back and his limbs straightened out before being granted the same pillow-and-blanket treatment. She may have tried to move either of them if she were in prime shape and still failed, so much smaller was her frame than either of theirs, but at current she knew it would be a fruitless effort. They would need to remain on the floor.
Unable to summon the strength to do much more, the little Blood Witch collapsed in an armchair that had miraculously avoided bloodsplatter, unwilling to let the two stay in that room by themselves, and passed out once more in a curled up ball on the cushion of the chair.