10-05-2018, 04:34 AM
Rowan’s smile brightened at Tobias, “Ah, Mon Dieu, you just said ‘us.’ So perhaps you do feel a kinship with the rest of us weirdos,” with a wink at the man, Rowan took another puff from her joint. She blew out a few smoke rings and considered Tobias for a moment. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but that attitude soured everything about him. Perhaps Rowan hadn’t done anything to him, perhaps he was just naturally a curmudgeon.
“As I’ve said before, I’m listening; but you both just keep saying the same thing: they’re dangerous, stay away, they kill. Forgive me, but it just sounds like a boogeyman story. Asha here has been the only one to say anything of substance; you sound panicked, Tobias. Have you had a run in with these fiends?” Rowan took a genuinely concerned tone with the man. Perhaps she should drop the diva act; perhaps not. She’d be softer on these two, at the very least… Mik could take it, though.
Pulling five slips of parchment from her bra, Rowan cast the scraps upon the table. She muttered a long, convoluted incantation under her breath; conjuring the spirits of Papa Legba, Erzulie, Chango, Baron La Croix, and Damballah Wedo.
Above Papa Legba’s slip, a gout of flame spurred in the air, Erzulie’s spawned a spout of water, Chango yielded a blossom of quartz crystals, Baron La Croix conjured phantom winds, and Damballah Wedo caused the three in attendance to feel a very, very light vibration within themselves akin to their respective psychic powers; the latter being almost unnoticeable.
“These are the five elements: fire, water, earth, air, and spirit; although you two cannot Channel, these are the threads that make-up reality. Whatever these Atharim are capable of… Well, we are greater. I may not be a Master of the craft like the Ascension, nor may I be a ‘master assassin’ like these Atharim, but perhaps it’s not about strength, Tobias. The Ascension is afraid of these men and women that cannot touch magic? Okay. I accept that. What that means to me is that the Atharim are so skilled they don’t need magic… That tells me a lot… That tells me that I just need to practice and to stay alive. You think it’s a bad idea to invite them in? Well, you associate with Asha who knows ‘friendly’ Atharim, do you trust her? I don’t know her, but in the time that I’ve spent with her, I trust that she is not going to bring killers into my house… If she does… well… we will handle that when it comes…” Rowan looked down at her wine, images of the innocent dead dancing through her mind at the sight of the deep red liquid.
The stench of innards and sinew tingled Rowan’s nose…
She shook her head, “I am sure the both of you assume that I am a silly little twit, but I know Death. I’ve seen it and caused it. It won’t happen again, not to the innocents. The Goddess gifted me for a reason; I want to protect those that are different, see that the lost find their way… Laugh and roll your eyes if you will, but I mean it. There’s too much suffering in the world… Why not enjoy life when we can? Now, come… Eat, loves…”
Rowan topped off Asha and Tobias’ drinks and then proceeded to hand them both plates that were piled high with fried catfish, grits, biscuits, and so many other New Orleans’ specialties.
Rowan finished her fifth glass of wine.
“As I’ve said before, I’m listening; but you both just keep saying the same thing: they’re dangerous, stay away, they kill. Forgive me, but it just sounds like a boogeyman story. Asha here has been the only one to say anything of substance; you sound panicked, Tobias. Have you had a run in with these fiends?” Rowan took a genuinely concerned tone with the man. Perhaps she should drop the diva act; perhaps not. She’d be softer on these two, at the very least… Mik could take it, though.
Pulling five slips of parchment from her bra, Rowan cast the scraps upon the table. She muttered a long, convoluted incantation under her breath; conjuring the spirits of Papa Legba, Erzulie, Chango, Baron La Croix, and Damballah Wedo.
Above Papa Legba’s slip, a gout of flame spurred in the air, Erzulie’s spawned a spout of water, Chango yielded a blossom of quartz crystals, Baron La Croix conjured phantom winds, and Damballah Wedo caused the three in attendance to feel a very, very light vibration within themselves akin to their respective psychic powers; the latter being almost unnoticeable.
“These are the five elements: fire, water, earth, air, and spirit; although you two cannot Channel, these are the threads that make-up reality. Whatever these Atharim are capable of… Well, we are greater. I may not be a Master of the craft like the Ascension, nor may I be a ‘master assassin’ like these Atharim, but perhaps it’s not about strength, Tobias. The Ascension is afraid of these men and women that cannot touch magic? Okay. I accept that. What that means to me is that the Atharim are so skilled they don’t need magic… That tells me a lot… That tells me that I just need to practice and to stay alive. You think it’s a bad idea to invite them in? Well, you associate with Asha who knows ‘friendly’ Atharim, do you trust her? I don’t know her, but in the time that I’ve spent with her, I trust that she is not going to bring killers into my house… If she does… well… we will handle that when it comes…” Rowan looked down at her wine, images of the innocent dead dancing through her mind at the sight of the deep red liquid.
The stench of innards and sinew tingled Rowan’s nose…
She shook her head, “I am sure the both of you assume that I am a silly little twit, but I know Death. I’ve seen it and caused it. It won’t happen again, not to the innocents. The Goddess gifted me for a reason; I want to protect those that are different, see that the lost find their way… Laugh and roll your eyes if you will, but I mean it. There’s too much suffering in the world… Why not enjoy life when we can? Now, come… Eat, loves…”
Rowan topped off Asha and Tobias’ drinks and then proceeded to hand them both plates that were piled high with fried catfish, grits, biscuits, and so many other New Orleans’ specialties.
Rowan finished her fifth glass of wine.