Post by shinigami on Jan 7, 2009 21:07:05 GMT -8
How Witches Use Witchcraft
To Find Somebody
Exhibit A. Crow, Valentine.
First, he draws a circle on the ground with the tip of his pocket knife (he keeps it sharp). The tip he dips into water, as pure as he can find; in this alley, that's not very pure. Then Valentine unfolds and sets down on the ground a map of the Greater Las Vegas Area. A map that includes the desert. The circle is to keep out mischievous spirits. The crystal is a tiny piece of quartz crystal, near flawless; it dangles from a silver chain, which dangles in turn from his key-chain, usually. The crystal is an old hand at this.
He crouches over the map, his pocket knife still open in one hand, his other hand held over the map, the crystal pointing downward. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the name and face of the person he's trying to find, and because Valentine is Valentine Crow, he can do this, even though he has no personal connection to the missing person.
The crystal circles the map like a diviner's rod until, finally, it plunges downward, dragging his hand with the force of its eager puppy jump. The feeling of magick dissipates, leaving behind a bone-stirring buzz; an echo of what he called up. He marks the point on the map with a pen and then folds the map up.
He waits a second, two, before stepping out of the circle, which is already drying, drying, in the Las Vegas heat.
Exhibit B. Crow, Beatrix.
Beatrix begins in an alley, too. At school. After school. The circle is of salt, and less as a ward against mischievous spirits as a ward against people who'd stumble on her ritual and say, Hey, what are you doing, Bea? Beatrix burns a fragment of paper on the asphalt. The smoke curls upward. Beatrix has a piece of paper in front of her, and a pen in her hand; Beatrix opens herself to Power, and Power is ready to rush in. Her eyes grow darker, lose their luster; she says, in a reasonable tone, "I am a shadow; I see what all shadows see; where is the one who casts the shadow I seek?"
Then, BOOM. She's not seeing with her own eyes any longer; in fact, she's effectively blind, while her mind slips shadow-from-shadow-from-shadow, and maybe somebody else would go insane, but not Dark, and finally she's curled up in the right shadow, and she thinks how easy it'd be to just step out of his shadow and say Boo! ...
But when she tries, she's back at the high school, and the paper's burned out, there's no more smoke, and she has a splitting headache. Still, it was successful! As soon as she can stand. . .
Exhibit C. Alexander, Aidan.
Aidan begins with a purified piece of quartz, dangling from a piece of blue thread. The quartz has flaws; so very many. Still, you make do with what you make do with. He has a scrap of the person's hair, and he ties it around the base of the chord, for greater potency. He has no map, and he has no circle; his location spell is a mobile thing.
Aidan concentrates on the stone; he stares into it, stares at its flaws; wills the flaws to take shape, to lead him to the person he's looking for. They do no such thing. Finally, weakly, the pendulum begins to move, to the left, pointing the way less-than-erringly, but still. Pointing. He loses his concentration for a moment, and the pendulum wavers, drops. He frowns, and concentrates again on the flaws in the quartz. The pendulum points, again.
This time he's so focussed on the pointing pendulum that he nearly walks right into a wall.
He growls, low in the back of his throat -- and tries again. This time, the pendulum is steady, and so is he, and he walks around walls, through doors, avoiding all sorts've obstacles in the interest of following the path the pendulum points in. He loses his handle on it a couple more times, but always, he manages to get the spell working again. Eventually, he finds 'em.
To Find Somebody
Exhibit A. Crow, Valentine.
First, he draws a circle on the ground with the tip of his pocket knife (he keeps it sharp). The tip he dips into water, as pure as he can find; in this alley, that's not very pure. Then Valentine unfolds and sets down on the ground a map of the Greater Las Vegas Area. A map that includes the desert. The circle is to keep out mischievous spirits. The crystal is a tiny piece of quartz crystal, near flawless; it dangles from a silver chain, which dangles in turn from his key-chain, usually. The crystal is an old hand at this.
He crouches over the map, his pocket knife still open in one hand, his other hand held over the map, the crystal pointing downward. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the name and face of the person he's trying to find, and because Valentine is Valentine Crow, he can do this, even though he has no personal connection to the missing person.
The crystal circles the map like a diviner's rod until, finally, it plunges downward, dragging his hand with the force of its eager puppy jump. The feeling of magick dissipates, leaving behind a bone-stirring buzz; an echo of what he called up. He marks the point on the map with a pen and then folds the map up.
He waits a second, two, before stepping out of the circle, which is already drying, drying, in the Las Vegas heat.
Exhibit B. Crow, Beatrix.
Beatrix begins in an alley, too. At school. After school. The circle is of salt, and less as a ward against mischievous spirits as a ward against people who'd stumble on her ritual and say, Hey, what are you doing, Bea? Beatrix burns a fragment of paper on the asphalt. The smoke curls upward. Beatrix has a piece of paper in front of her, and a pen in her hand; Beatrix opens herself to Power, and Power is ready to rush in. Her eyes grow darker, lose their luster; she says, in a reasonable tone, "I am a shadow; I see what all shadows see; where is the one who casts the shadow I seek?"
Then, BOOM. She's not seeing with her own eyes any longer; in fact, she's effectively blind, while her mind slips shadow-from-shadow-from-shadow, and maybe somebody else would go insane, but not Dark, and finally she's curled up in the right shadow, and she thinks how easy it'd be to just step out of his shadow and say Boo! ...
But when she tries, she's back at the high school, and the paper's burned out, there's no more smoke, and she has a splitting headache. Still, it was successful! As soon as she can stand. . .
Exhibit C. Alexander, Aidan.
Aidan begins with a purified piece of quartz, dangling from a piece of blue thread. The quartz has flaws; so very many. Still, you make do with what you make do with. He has a scrap of the person's hair, and he ties it around the base of the chord, for greater potency. He has no map, and he has no circle; his location spell is a mobile thing.
Aidan concentrates on the stone; he stares into it, stares at its flaws; wills the flaws to take shape, to lead him to the person he's looking for. They do no such thing. Finally, weakly, the pendulum begins to move, to the left, pointing the way less-than-erringly, but still. Pointing. He loses his concentration for a moment, and the pendulum wavers, drops. He frowns, and concentrates again on the flaws in the quartz. The pendulum points, again.
This time he's so focussed on the pointing pendulum that he nearly walks right into a wall.
He growls, low in the back of his throat -- and tries again. This time, the pendulum is steady, and so is he, and he walks around walls, through doors, avoiding all sorts've obstacles in the interest of following the path the pendulum points in. He loses his handle on it a couple more times, but always, he manages to get the spell working again. Eventually, he finds 'em.
