Something Wicked - Legacies

[Nina]

"Miss Hollins..." Clairburn began but he was immediately interrupted by Evelyn.

 

"Well now that that is settled," Evelyn said as she reached up, smiling,  placed her hands on each of Quinn's upper arms as if she were going to pull her into a hug, but instead all she did was give her arms a big squeeze before turning back to her seat to sit as she straightened her skirt in a lady like manner.

 

"Uncle Warren, why don"t you go ahead and give us that history lesson, now."

 

Spoiler

I will have to write out the history lesson so unless some one else needs to chime in here with something it might be a while, so if you want to pause in posting you can but if you have something to add rp wise please go ahead and i will adapt.

 

[Asarasa]

Mr. Clairburn made it sound all serious like, and while Jo wasn't sure she quite believe it any yet, she didn't see why Quinn was getting all huffy 'bout it. Mr. Clairburn didn't seem all that dangerous any, just believed in the strange and fantastic and all, and Evelyn did too. Still... if magic was real and all, that would sure be somethin'. Probably super complicated and fulla book learnin' and whatnot...

 

The statuesque teen settled down on her sleeping bag, powerful legs crossed loosely, an elbow resting on a knee, chin propped on fist, waiting to hear what Mr. Clairburn had to say. No knowing what to say and not wanting to sound stupid, Jo sat with laconic attentiveness. The big, tawny coated dog chuffed one, than sprawled out at Jordan's side, resting his head on her free knee, her strong fingers idly scratching his belly.

[Nina]

Clairburn looked around as all the attention was on him now. He waited until Quinn sat then folded his arms across his chest and began. 

 

“Now most of what I’m going to tell you isn’t in your history books and only a very few people know anything about it at all. Frankly, I wish no one  knew.

 

It started about four hundred and twenty or thirty years ago when my ancestor, named Becket Clairburn came to America with his mother and sisters. They were fleeing persecution. Several members of the family distantly related but there were ties, had been accused of witchcraft and Becket’s mother was something of a wisewoman. And whispers had begun to be heard. While preparing to leave, Becket had the occasion to meet and befriend a young man by the name of Absalom Walsh.

 

Becket and Absalom became friends and Becket convinced Absalom to join him in the Americas. Absalom did and the two ended up becoming family when a few years after arriving in the Carolina Territory,  Absalom married Becket’s youngest sister, Ruth, after his first wife and his sons died of a fever leaving him with an infant daughter to raise.

 

Now the Carolina’s back then encompassed everything both north and south and west into what is today Georgia. To the south was Florida which was firmly in Spanish hands. Now Spain claimed all of this land, but they couldn’t hold it because  they had no way of establishing colonies which is what was needed to solidify any claim. But really Spain was not looking for colonies they were looking for gold.

 

You see ever since the Spanish arrived in the New World they had heard and believed in the stories of gold. Indian nations whose cites were made of gold whose streets were paved with gold. Fabled El Dorado. Many of them believed that those cities were here in America so they claimed it and searched for it. But they didn’t establish any colonies at least none that succeeded. But the English did. When English men found the Carolina’s they saw what they could do with the land thye started send people and they could do it they had the ships and they weren’t caught up in a hunt for riches. They wanted freedom and a life for themselves and their children and their children’s children.

 

The English started settling the Carolinas and began an ever-constant move westward. Even though it would take almost seventy more years eventually it would lead to a short and vicious war between spain and the colony of Georgia but that is something you can read about in the history books.

 

This is the part you won’t find inthose history books. In sixteen seventy three or there abouts. Absalom Walsh and his bride and their growing family settled in to virgin territory in what would be todays western South Carolina. A small group of settlements sprung up and this displeased one of the Spanish magistrates named Sebastian de’Sevillier. Now this guy was a complete bastard. He was one of those who was obsessed with El Darado. He claimed to have the journal of a missionary who had traveled with pagan Indians from the Aztec lands north to a great place in the mountains where a city of gold was hidden. He believed that this hidden city was in these mountains right here. And he did not like the thought of the English finding his gold.”

 

“Uncle,” Evelyn said gently, ”we don’t need a university history lesson.”

 

Clairburn looked around at the furrowed brows. “Yes, of course I get carried away.  The place Absalom settled was frontier and in those days the Carolinas and what would become Georgia was full of Indians a lot of different tribes that warred and raided on each other and when whites came on them. That spring several farmsteads were raided and men killed and women and children taken. Absalom, Becket and a bunch of other men went after the Indians they thought had done the murders and they went west following atrial left by the raiders. But it wasn’t Indians it was de’Sevillier and his soldiers. The magistrate thought that if he could incite the Indians into attacking the English it would do two things clear out the English for Spain and kill a lot of the natives who hampered his exploration of the mountains and his search for El Dorado.”

 

Clairburn paused “I need to get some water, throats getting dry.” He went to the table and acquired a bottle of water which he opened and drain nearly half of it in one long draught while the Kids looked on.

 

Spoiler

making a break here in case anyone wants to interrupt with a question or anything. if no one post  I will continue tomorrow. it's kind of a long story sorry

 

 

[Malachite]

Silas had leaned hard into Dylan at Quinn's snap, paling and giving her a hurt look as she outed him to the group. For a minute all he wanted was for magic to be real and an invisibility spell to spontaneously spring up around him, but from the look and pretty much non-reaction of at least a few of his friends. it wasn't like they hadn't already figured it out. Still - it hurt to have her just throw that out like that just to lash out at him. It was a relief when Clairburn started his impromptu history lecture and kept the attention on him. 

"Those symbols we saw. . .they were Aztec? I thought the Aztec were in South America somewhere, not this far north. Why would they come all the way up to Georgia? Weren't the ones that did all the. . ." He swallowed as he remembered all the skulls. "Oh. I guess that explains. . . that."

[Nina]

Clairburn returned to the center of the circle of Kids, took one more swallow then replaced the cap on the bottle. “I don’t know what symbols you may have seen. I know about the cave but have never been there. But if it was put there by the people that dug the cave, no, not Aztec, I don't think, much older. But I’m getting ahead of the story.

 

The search party kept on after the trail of the kidnapped homesteaders which was leading west into what is Georgia today, into these very mountains. de’Seviller had set up an ambush spot where he planned to massacre the searchers and they blundered right into it. The whole party would have been wiped out except some one was there to ambush de’Sevillier.

 

That someone was a group of … natives that the Creek called Hahkv or boogymen. These Indians weren’t your normal Creek or Apalachee, from the accounts in Absalom Walsh’s journal they were a “squat, broad shouldered people, even the women. Their skin was a darker bronze than the average Indian and they painted themselves white with symbols of blue or red scattered about their limbs. The wore no clothing, except for  harness to carry weapons, which were unusual knives, spear and arrow heads made of a strange quartz like stone.”

 

These savages came out of the darkness and overwhelmed the Spanish and Englishmen Becket and Absalom had been separated from the main fighting and encountered an old woman painted just like the men who “Blew the foul dust into our shocked faces and sent us to the void of oblivion”

 

Absalom’s journal recounts how they were taken deep into the mountains and into a cave. In the cave several of the captives were sacrificed in a bloody ritual that ended with the men’s hearts being cut out of their chests after their skulls had been crushed by the woman with a huge rock shot through with gold and quartz. Then the hearts were devoured raw by several of the strange white painted devils. After a good dozen sacrifices the remaining captives, numbering about ten men including Becket, Absalom, and de’Sevillier were taken through another hidden cave and out into the morning light where a great city of gold and crystal dominated by a stepped ziggurat which was the central edifice of the city.

 

The men remained captives of these savages for almost two months, and not once during their captivity did their capturers ever speak to them, not once was a single word ever spoken to them and indeed except for the rituals they had first witnessed in the cave they never heard a sound from any of the white painted devils.  One by one the captive men were taken away, never to return, presumably sacrificed to whatever gods these inhuman creatures worshiped. Absolom believed that he would die there and that no one would ever know their fate.”

 

Clairburn unscrews the bottle of water and drinks as he studies the faces looking at him with rapt attention.

 

Spoiler

Again a small break in the tale in case any one wants to make a post with their thoughts and reactions or interrupt with a question.

 

[Shameless]

Hank sat there listening attentively, and he looked at the others, and then smiled as Warren took a break.    "Well you guys did want Story Time,  I gotta admit this one has been a whole lot better than any of the usual scary stories that get told."   IT was a very "Hank" comment, no lack of sincerity, and clearly he'd been as engrossed in it as anyone.  

[SalmonMax]

"Eh..." Roach shrugged and shifted on the couch to lean against the armrest, half-lying at an angle with her legs hanging off.

 

"Still waiting for the part where we're all witches. So far it's sounding like a Raiders of the Lost Ark / Road to El Dorado mashup."

 

For all her affected nonchalance, she'd been listening as attentively as anyone else though, and anyone who knew her would know that this somewhat negative review was surprisingly restrained. If she'd really been disliking this, she'd have torn into it much more vigorously.

[Malachite]

"Uh, well Absalom Walsh was probably an ancestor for me," Silas said from his comfortable spot leaned up against Dylan and trying to just focus on the story and not being upset at Quinn. "So. . . .Maybe whatever happened in the cave. That had to be awful, staying there like that. Not really knowing what was going on, just that people were being taken and never returned." He shivered hard as the image of the cave with all it's skulls flashed through his mind. 

[Nina]

Warren smiled, “Yes Silas, Absalom was your ancestor, the first of your blood to come to America. And as for the witches, Miss McKendrick, we’re just now coming to that part.

 

Back in the Carolina's where the settlements that had been raided were, the women and children from several farmsteads gathered. Towns did not exist in these areas back then, the little settlements usually made up of three or four farmsteads all related by marriage were technically in the region illegally as on paper all of this belonged to the Spanish.

 

The place where the Walsh Farmstead stood was a fertile valley and had attracted several families, who in the frontier fashion had built a walled settlement. Was not much of a wall but it was the best protected in the region and  in time it would grow and become a town which would, eventually, be absorbed by what is today Spartenburg. There were other steaddings aside from the raided ones and many of them after the men left to pursue the Indians their women and children traveled to the Wash settlement.

 

Now if you recall I said that The Clairburn’s had fled persecution in England because of accusations of witchcraft? Well those accusations, denied and forgotten at the time were true. Beckett’s Mother had been what is called a solitary witch or a wisewoman. She had talent with animals, potions, and caring for the sick. She had never practiced with others nor had any learning but was self-taught. But still the talent was there, and it was a talent she passed on to several of her daughters, including Ruth. Whereas most of Ruth’s sisters had the same degree of talent that their mother had, Ruth was something else. From a very early age it was recognized that Ruth was special, she knew things no one her age could possible know and she saw things that were going to happen and she was almost always right.

 

When they , the Clairburn’s and the Walsh’s, first came to America they settled in Virginia as it was one of England primary colonies. And the Clairburns were not alone in fleeing the persecution in England and Europe. It was not long before other witches found out about Ruth and several convinced their mother that the girl needed instruction, and so it was that Ruth became a real witch. 

 

Now I am not going to get all good and evil on you and the drawbacks of either. Magic in and of itself is neither. It all comes down to purpose. The power a witch wields is a part of them they are not manipulating any outside force. Any magic a witch performs comes from within.”

 

“But, then what’s that mess about a devil’s book,” Interrupted Hank?

 

Warren held up his hands with a wait gesture at Hank, “I am getting to that.

 

Most practitioners don’t have enough power to do more than a spell or too and even then it takes along time and can even make the witch sick. That is why they make potions and charms to produce magic effects. The results are weaker than a spell, but it doesn’t take as much due to the process being drawn out and mechanistic.

 

But when a spell of some power is needed then what is needed is the help of one or more other practitioners. Practitioner groups are made up of threes with one additional practitioner who is the fulcrum. The names these groups go by are numerous and are mostly regional but the main term that you would be familiar with because of popular entertainment, is the coven. A coven is always at least seven and is pretty much the only practitioner group which does not have to stand by the rule of threes. The reason for that is because a coven has made a pact with the devil.

 

Now I am not saying that the devil in this case is the devil from the bible or any other religion or even that it is an intelligent entity. But it is a real source of power and when a practitioner who wishes more power makes a pact with this force, he or she is granted power from this force to supplement their own. At the same time the witch is given, or makes a book, of blank pages. For each witch or even a non-witch in some cases who the Fulcrum can get to sign this book in blood the amount of power is increased to the fulcrum from the devil.

 

Covens are not good they are greedy, power hungry, vengeful, evil. They are shunned and the reason thousands died at the stake or by hanging in the fifteenth through seventeenth centuries.

 

The witches who wanted Ruth did not want her to just sign their book , they had kept the existence of their coven a secret from her, as they were grooming her to become their devil’s bride. But she found out and so it was that Ruth, with her brother Becket, fled Virginia and that is how they ended up back with their old friend Absalom Walsh and how the young witch Ruth fell in love and became Ruth Walsh.

 

Spoiler

I am sorry for how long this is taking, both for the length and the delays. any way here is the next installment.  I am pausing in case any one wishes to interject. if not I will continue the story tomorrow.

 

[Nina]

Now Ruth aside from being a powerful witch one of those who are maybe born every couple of hundred years or so and can go on to do great or terrible things as a practitioner, Ruth was intelligent. After fleeing the grasp of the coven, she had through means made contact with other witches mostly still in Europe. Now these witches did not form covens but instead joined as a circle with each aiding the other willingly and none claiming to be the leader but each serving as fulcrum as necessitated by whatever magic they wished or need to perform. It was through correspondence that Ruth learned a great deal for those witches of the circles did not keep secrets from others of like mind.”

 

“So, did everyone know that Ruth was a witch then,” asked Hank?

 

“No, no. While they did not keep secrets among themselves, they had to hide from the world at large remember, this was terrible time for practitioners,  superstition and religion were clashing. While the witch hunts had been going on in Europe and England from a couple of centuries it hadn't really made its way to America but that would be changing soon and even that plays a part in our tale.

 

So by the time the men of the Walsh settlement were taken captive by the El Daradoans, Ruth was an accomplished practitioner one of the few who were able to cast spells without aid from other casters as long as they weren’t frequent or overly powerful. In truth in a bygone era she would have been considered a sorceress not a witch, such was her power. Ruth never abused her ability however nor took advantage of the ease it could have made in her life and the lives of those around her. She understood one thing all to well. Magic costs.

 

Ruth began having dreams, some would say visions, of her husband and brother being held and tortured by devils and snakes and she knew that there were no men left to turn too for saving their menfolk.

 

Now one of Ruth’s abilities was to see the power another witch might have and so it was that she identified in secret several of the wives and women who had come to their settlement. She spoke to these women explained the plight of their men and revealed to these few that she was a witch. A couple of those women admitted to being practitioner as well, but the majority did not even know that they had the capability let alone the desire to be a witch. But Ruth was a forceful woman an she convinced those women that they and only they could save the menfolk for even if the men’s lives could not it was their souls which were in gravest peril. She told them of the great winged serpent in her dream which she claimed held their men’s souls to feed upon. One by one the women acquiesced  and so Ruth created a circle with these women, and they swore to save their men. And they did."

 

Spoiler

again pausing in case anyone wants to add

 

[Malachite]

Silas was rapt, listening to the story - feeling almost as if he were there, watching his ancestor be a bad ass witch-sorceress and form a circle to save her family. He smiled at Clairburn's assertion that that Absalom and Beckett were saved in the end, though he clearly wanted more details. "That is so cool," he whispered quietly, softly enough only Dylan and those right next to him would actually hear. His expression might well have been shouting for him, though. "She sounds amazing," he added more loudly.  

[SalmonMax]

"Yeah, I was going to go with 'she sounds made up,'" said Roach laconically. "I think the story has a real future on the young adult fantasy market, but none of this is proof. Witches and devils...oh, but not Judeo-Christian devils...and cults and lost treasure and...yeah."

 

She swung herself around to sit upright on the couch again.

 

"Is there more? An extended epilogue before they all sailed west to the Grey Havens or whatever? World saved, job done?"

[Nina]

Warren frowns at Roaches comment and glances at Evelyn who shrugs, but before he can say anything Evelyn speaks as she stands up.

 

“Yes, Roach, there is more but it isn’t important for what we need here tonight. Silas, you can get with Uncle Warren later if you want more details.

 

Ruth and her circle worked their magic and rescued the remaining men. they also discovered that the witch who ruled the golden city was in a pact with an extremely powerful thing. Call it a devil, a demon, an alien, it does not matter, it is a thing of malevolent force that had kept that place hidden for centuries and had consumed thousands of souls sacrificed by the witch.

 

The circle could not defeat the witch as long as the devil empowered her but through their own sacrifice and their will they fought free and sealed the cave trapping the witch and the demon in that place, they hoped forever.

 

Twenty two women had made up that circle, only seven left that dammed city. Ruth and six others. The rest died, sacrificing their lives to trap that evil in its hidden city of gold. Ruth and the others swore to protect the secret and to keep the evil locked away. Those seven made a pact, a blood pact, which is the most powerful sacrifice aside from a life that can be made.”

 

She reached up and pulled on a thin chain around her neck and took a small crucifix from where is was hidden beneath her blouse. “As they intoned their spell sealing the cave and binding themselves to it and each other they bled upon this cross creating a talisman. It was Ruth’s and was passed down to next witch in line until it ended up with my mother and now me.

 

Each of you are descended from one of those six remaining women and with my inheritance of this talisman each of you became the uninitiated in the circle that I need to form.”

 

Evelyn looked at each of the kids in turn before settling her gaze on Silas. “You asked for proof, aside from simple tricks, as Roach calls them making a spell powerful enough to convince you it was real, would take a greater sacrifice, but we have this.” She held the cross up again so all could see, and she stepped up to stand in front of Silas. “Step away Dylan.” She ordered the older boy who complied by sliding away from Silas loosening the grip on his hand as he edged away from the boy and the witch.

 

“This is just a plain cross it has no power, in and of itself, it can do nothing. However, since the blood in your veins is the same blood which bathed it centuries ago it will react to your touch. Will you take it Silas Walsh,” she asked as she held it out to him?

 

 

[Malachite]

Silas nodded, eager and curious to see what would happen. "Hold out your palm, then," she instructed as she gathered up the necklace into her hand so she could drop it into his hand and be touching no part of it by the time it touched Silas' skin. 

The moment the small cross was passed between them there was a pulse of something felt by everyone in the room - it wasn't sound, though it felt a lot like a deep base beat or the effects of an explosion. It was just a pulse with no known physics attached to it spreading among the children in the room. Along with the pulse the cross itself began to glow a deep red; with his eyes on the small piece of silver, Silas was unaware that the same red haze now surrounded him as well. Instead, his mind was filled with flashing images of people dressed in clothes that placed them in a marching timeline of his ancestors since Ruth and Absalom. Some he recognized from old photos or stories his family told, but most were strangers - until he saw himself. Sitting in a rustic room with Dylan, dressed in clothes he'd only seen on period shows and the occasional state fair reenactment groups for the turn of the century shows. He flushed as he watched himself and his crush hug tightly and kiss, distracted only when he realized they were in the old cabin in the woods where Dylan had been waiting for all of them to come back from the cave. 
 

A menacing shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway of the cabin. Silas knew who it was immediately: his father, or this Silas' father, and his stomach tied up in knots as he felt dread and fear. Modern Silas loved his father, but this man made him want to curl up and hide. In the vision, the two boys flinched apart, both speaking rapidly, but modern Silas couldn't hear the words and he knew they didn't matter. The shadow-father pulled the Winchester sitting like a coiled viper on his hip and fired three times, slamming Dylan back against the wall to slump to the floor in a bloody heap. In the living room of the Clairburn house Silas gave a wordless cry of horror and loss. 

Tears are streaming down his cheeks as the vision abruptly cuts off. Evelyn folds her hands over his, capturing the cross between his palms. "Choose another to pass it to," she says softly but firmly, "just as I did."

He takes a moment to understand the words, then leans over to pass it quickly to Roach - only half-aware if she actually takes it when he drops it over her hands. He turns to Dylan, horror and sorrow mirrored in his eyes and tears still spilling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he managed to croak out brokenly. 

[SalmonMax]

Rochelle doesn't really get the tears and croaking, but she does see the glowing. The glowing is a thing, and it's scary maybe a little but also gobsmacking cool! How would you make someone glow like that? Like, you could dust the cross with some kind of phosphorescent substance and then have a hidden tight-beam UV lamp somewhere that would light it up...but unless Silas was in on it... But now he was offering the thing to her, so that didn't make sense...

 

She had no more time to think before Silas dumped it into her hand.

 

There was another of those hollow pulses, like the vacuum that chases a blast wave coming from an explosion. A heartbeat that rippled out and encompassed all of them.

 

The red glow of the cross flickered and changed, suddenly lighting up with a sharp blue-white flare. The same shade of gleaming raced around her body like St Elmo's Fire, lining her. Roach didn't see any of that though. She was being shown something else entirely.

 

The world had become an inky dark, and through it streamed people. Strangers dressed like extras from Westworld, or some of them kind of stuffy Victorian outfits like from old movies. They paraded past, making eye contact as if she was supposed to gather some kind of meaning from it...but there wasn't any meaning. Just faces, just unfamiliar faces.

 

When she snapped back to awareness, the aura enveloping her crackled and sizzled...it seemed to sink into her. Then as her eyes opened electricity streamed from them, branching and twisting around her entire body before settling around her hands. It arced from fingertip to fingertip, twisted and twined like a thing alive around her palm and wrist and digits. Smaller jags of lightning zipped and popped back up her arms to orbit her shoulders, her ribs, her head. Her hair lifted up and stood out, not just on her head but even the tiny hairs along her arms.

 

Seeing this, Roach gasped and held her hand out for a second, watching the show. She laughed, and little bursts of electricity crackled between her teeth.

 

"Okay, so...a little piece of advice. Next time LEAD with this. I'd have paid a LOT more attention if I'd known I'd be doing a Palpatine at the end of it."

 

She looked up at the ceiling and arched her back and reached behind herself and shouted, "ULTIMAAAAAATE POWAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

 

Electrical arcs zigged off of her, lancing around the room seemingly at random. They didn't seem to do damage though, and when they hit a person, the feeling was one of a static electric zap more than anything.  Even so, visually it was pretty impressive!

 

It only lasted a few seconds though before the lightning faded away and left Roach standing there looking kind of funny. She gave the cross a side-eye and shook it. Then she buffed it on her shirt hem.

 

"Need to change the batteries in this thing," Roach sighed, and handed it over to the closest person to her...Jo. "Here you go, big gal. Keep it warm for me. I'm definitely gonna want to do that again."

Edited September 6, 2020 by SalmonMax

[Asarasa]

The story was sounding kinda like that Sabrina show on Netflix to Jordan. She didn't really watch, but Keith and Craig did, and she'd caught bits and pieces of it. Witches, magic, and a devil or demon or something. Jo didn't care about all that stuff, but she did like that this Ruth person and her friends, coven, or whatever, didn't wait on a man or men to save them, but saved the men themselves.

 

Yes, her own size and strength might be freakish and extraordinary, but with them, she didn't need a guy to protect her. To Jo's mind, most girls could protect themselves, if they just tried and put in the effort... Or had magic, she suppo-

 

Jordan pounced to her feet at the soundless roll of thunder and the crimson haze blooming around Silas, her jaw dropping open in shock. Banner was on his feet at the time, hackles raised, a warning rumble coming from deep in his chest, before it trailed off, his tawny head cocking in confusion, not sure what was happening or able to identify a clear threat to his mistress.

 

Before she could make sense of what was happening, let alone work her way around to say, in regards to what the hell was happening and the clear distress on Silas' face, the Cross was passed to Rochelle. Another peal of thunder, felt, rather than heard, and the red glow changed to the blue-white of lightning. And Roach went crazy, cackling, electricity sparking all about her, like in those old horror movies her dad and eldest brother Aiden like, Frankenstein and Igor or whatever, with those metal tower and globe things the spit out electric arcs, except the electric arcs were coming from Roach.

 

The glow around Roach faded away, as did the lightning, the girl grinning widely in a way that didn't bode anything good to anyone who knew Roach. With a small flick of her wrist, she tossed at Jordan.

 

"No! Wait! Don't!" Despite the huge girl's protestations, Jo didn't flinch, catching the silver, slightly tarnished cross deftly in her large, strong hand.

 

Another silent pulse rolled through the room, like the world's heartbeat, single and poignant. Jo looked down at the cross in her hand with wide, dark blue eyes as it began to glow anew, this time a mix of deep, verdant green and rich, earth brown flecked with motes of sunny gold and lake blue. Earthy colours, Woodsy colours, Jo didn't notice the glow flow from the cross to seemingly emanate from her tanned skin, expanding and withdrawing as though in time with her own heartbeat, her gaze elsewhere beyond the room, elsewhen.

 

A kaleidoscope of people flashed before her eyes. A stocky man, broad of shoulder and chest, hammering at a piece of orange-hot metal at an anvil, who looked a great deal like her dad, if he had had a beard and was bald. A lanky man, browned by the sun, helping others pin the wheel onto the side of a watermill that could have doubled for Ryland, if he was a decade older. Twins riding horses, wearing longcoats and broad brimmed hats, rifles over their shoulders flanked a heard of cattle, dust thick in their air doing nothing to hide their mischievous grins. A miner, face darkened by coal dust, a calloused hand tracing a vein of silver ore. A mechanic, working on a train engine, who could have a been a fifth brother, if Jo had had one. Another man, wearing a hard hat and overalls, sweat beading his face, air thick with sawdust as he eased a log to a spinning blade in a saw mill.

 

With each man, the background, the setting seemed to skip a general. A one street town with simple, bare wood buildings. Next, a boardwalk. Dirt roads shifting to gravel, then paved. Wood buildings becoming faced with brick, torches and lamps, replaced by strung electric bulbs, then street lights. Horses giving way to cars of ever shifting lines and designs.

 

And even as she witnessed this series of men, Jo saw a cascade of women, foreign, yet familiar. One, hair even paler than her own, who might have been as tall her, though far more slender and dressed in leather and fur, moving through a thick, pine forest at night, by the illumination of Northern Lights, a spear in hand as she harvested mushrooms and wild herbs and berries. Another, sitting on a shallow boat, gutting the fish from the morning haul as she laughed with a man, the fisherman who was her husband, a light fog rising from the slate grey water before them. A huntress with a bow and hair a shade of red Jo wouldn't have thought natural, stalking a bear. Another blonde, wiry and hard, among a group of several men, skiing through snow with a rifle on her back, her beautiful face severe with determination as the men tried to studious ignore her.

 

On and on and on... until both series of progressing visions collapsed into one, clearing amidst a completely different forest, a dark and twisted one, the gloom leaching all colour from the trees, the bark heavily ridged and cracked. Dry leaves rustled in cold breeze and skirled about the forest floor, branches creaked, and clattered, and groaned.

 

In the small clearing, huddled her friends and others Jo couldn't quite make out through the flickering shadows, her attention focused far more on wall of trees encircling them. Things were in those trees, beyond those trees, things she couldn't see save for the occasional gleam of a baleful eye, the outline of an indistinct shape. Things she couldn't hear save for the faint patter of a paw, the hiss of anticipatory breath, a rumbling growl... Things,  horrible and evil that wanted her, wanted her friends, things that wanted to devour them.

 

She wouldn't let them have her or her friends. She dashed and darted about the clearing, keeping the things at bay with the light and fire of her burning brand, shadows dancing with her movement. And if they dared the flicking light and flame, she'd keep them back with main strength and the solid heft of the thick branch itself, as long as she could...

 

Jo felt a hand on her forearm, the touch gentle but insistent. The vision faded as she looked down, the hand looking especially delicate against the thick, muscular length of her forearm, to find Evelyn looking up at her. Jordan blinked, taking in a deep breath, every powerful muscle taut and hard as though she'd just come from an intense workout.

 

Evelyn gave the towering teen a comforting pat on her solid arm, then gestured towards Hank and Quinn. "Pick who is next, Jo."

 

Jordan didn't even notice Evelyn using the overly familiar diminutive of her name, as she licked her lips to relieve their dryness and nodded, holding out the cross to the one she chose.

 

"What is this? What are we seeing?"

 

Spoiler

Not sure who will be able to post next between Justin and Dawn, so left it undefined for now. I'll edit later, if needed.

 

[Nina]

Hank had watched the procession and his practical mind always fascinated by fantasy and science fiction was now being stretched beyond his comfort zone. Things like this did not happen in the real world… talk of witches and lost cities of gold by some eccentric folks was one thing but this…

 

Then Jo held the cross out in his direction, Hank’s eyes went wide as his hand went out to except the small piece of jewelry. She dropped it in his palm.

 

As with the others there was a silent pulse of energetic pressure and the cross glowed a rich purple blue shot through with red lightning. As with the others the glow,  unseen by Hank, himself, surrounded him with an aura visible to everyone else, but Hank’s attention was now inward as a procession of his ancestors marched past his inner eye. He saw the members of his family some near some far who had been marked by this covenant, for that is what this was, a covenant passed from one to another in an unbroken line from those who made the original vow.

 

The line of people ended he didn’t recognize the woman it ended on, but she looks somewhat like his mother. Hank glanced around, they were  the cave of skulls, he and this woman, the box that the book had been in stood on the sacrificial alter, open. Hank looked back at the woman she was now holding something it looked like the book but it kept changing into a snake with wings then back to the book, the transformation was quick, like the flicker of a frame of film, back and forth, over and over, in both forms it writhed and undulated, a sound came from the thing in the woman’s hands, a moan which could have been a scream if it were louder.

The woman stepped closer to Hank he saw tears of blood running down her face as she held the book out to him…

 

Hank took an involuntary step back and felt hands on  his shoulders he looked up saw that he was back in the family room of the Clairburn house and that Evelyn was holding his shoulders carefully. “It is alright Hank, give the cross to Quinn now, please”

[Dawn OOC]

Hank passed the Cross to Quinn, who took it with shaking hands. Fear and doubt, an unusual and unnatural look for Quinn, crossed her face, but there was no hesitation now that the moment was here.

 

That same pulse flowed across the room as the Cross shone silver with flares of golden light. Quinn was surrounded in the same aura; for a moment, she locked eyes with Evelyn through a haze of silver and gold, then the vision took over.

 

She saw person after person, each holding the cross and all bearing a familial stamp. Long dark hair, intense stare or her father’s smirk marched across her sight. The last ancestor slipped aside and Quinn stood alone on a hill. Bey-bey stood next to her, arching her neck and nickering softly. The moon overhead shone a blood red color, a shade that Quinn had only seen in movies. Shapes like crossed the crimson orb, and Quinn peered at them. Lead by a winged serpent with a rider, the rest were witches riding on bats, and she jerked in alarm. A second later, she felt a sense of familiarity as she stared at the flying riders. “I know them,” she whispered. 

 

As if agreeing, Bey-bey neighed. Quinn reached out a soothing hand without thought, but she wasn’t touching her bay mare’s smooth neck. Instead, her fingers brushed over thick, curled mane. Startled, she looked at her horse to find it wasn’t Bey-bey, but a massive white stallion. He reared as if showing off, and silver-gold wings spread from his shoulders. Still looking at the sky, he screamed a challenge.

 

His cry was echoed by others, the pegasi at the base of the hill. Quinn looked down to see her friends riding them. Without a doubt, she knew they were waiting for her to mount up and take the lead. 

 

Between one blink and the next, Quinn was in the family room again. Evelyn stood in front of her, holding out her hand for the cross. Numbly, Quinn passed it to her.

[Nina]

Evelyn held the cross up by the chain and slowly turned in place so that all could see it. The symbol had a faint glow about it, yet each Kid saw it differently as they had seen when they had held it.

 

“Each of you have experienced the connection you have with this symbol of our heritage. There were no tricks, only your own selves and the symbol. I do not know what you saw or felt or heard that was between you and your ancestors.

 

You have been called.

 

 In all the time of this covenant, since its creation, this circle has only been called once before to push back against those who wished to take the power of the beast bound within El Dorado.

 

 That witch’s coven was defeated by the circle of that day, and its devils’ book was captured sealed into that box which sits in Jo’s room. Without their book those witches were powerless and at the mercy of their devil.

 

The box containing the book was sealed in the cave of skulls with the most powerful binding spells that Circle  knew, and only a member of this covenant could enter those caves which have been hidden from the sight of all for nearly three hundred years.

 

But care was not taken to ascertain the fate of those evil witches after their defeat. One or more must have survived and the knowledge of the cave must have been passed down. I believe that the murder of my parents and the breaking of the circle before us is part of the same plan. I believe that you were deliberately led to that cave by someone who knows, who and what you are, with the express purpose of freeing the book. And that now the book is in the hands a knowledgeable witch and he or she now has all the power which was bound into that book.

 

I have visions. Ever since I was a child, I have had them. Visions which come true. And I have seen  things, horrible things pertaining to this book and the Lost City of gold.

 

Each of you have been called to this circle, you have been touched by the symbol and what power is yours has been awakened. Yet you are not bound, you are still free to say no, that you want no part of this. For we do not force.

 

This will be the Last Circle of this covenant, the task for which it was made is ours and ours alone.

 

Something Wicked is coming.

 

If you will stand in this circle then stand now and join with me and place your hand in mine and let the covenant be renewed.”

 

She flips her hand and the cross sails up in an arc to fall into her palm which she holds out inviting.

 

Spoiler

ok just let me know in a pm if you wish to join the circle and any thing you might say as you step up to place your hand on hers. once i have a pm from all of you I will make a post incorporating it and finishing the scene.

 

[Nina]

Jo stared at the svelte redhead, still feeling the fading sense of urgency, of danger, towards herself and her friends from the vision, when she was trying to hold back the unseen monsters. She could even still smell the scene, the acrid scent of unwashed fur, the smell of burning wood as she waved her brand.

 

She didn't quite know what all was going on, or was even sure she believed it all - though after what she'd just seen, she didn't not believe it either. What the big girl did know was that she wasn't going to let this witch hurt her friends.

 

The brawny blonde strode forward, placing her hand over Evelyn's, giving the smaller girl a quick, definitive nod. Banner paced around them, his paws clicking on the hardwood floor.

 

"Ah'm in," Jordan said with simple determination. "Ah reckon, we let the Book outta the box, we should put it back in." She frowned for a moment, fair brows furrowing. "Witches, what ya said, they can be boys, too?"

 

 Rochelle hesitates, but in the end there's no contest. This DID sound like the kind of EULA you really ought to read in full before clicking 'I agree' on, but she had shot lightning out of her hand. Was there realistically a contractual clause that would stop her from trying to figure that out? Even now Roach wasn't sure she believed in 'magic,' but something she couldn't explain was happening, and that wouldn't stand.

 

She steps forward, next to Jo, with a shrug. "Yeah, okay. Lets get some SCIENCE up in Hogwarts! Also...hand lightning, for some reason. It's all good. I'm in."

 

Silas scrubbed at his face, trying to will the tearing and sniffling to stop. This was important and he realized that, but it felt like his mind was doing a freefall and his was just about to smack hard into land. He swallowed and nodded to Evelyn. "Okay. Yes," he said somberly, reaching out hesitantly to touch the cross again.

 

Hank looked at his palm where the cross had been his vision running over and over in his head then he strode up and solidly placed his hand atop his friends. “Seems to me we all been part of this since before we was born.” He grinned at everyone around him, “Best we finish it.”                                                                               

               

Quinn hesitates, so much coming at her at once it was overwhelming. She watches the others stand one by one then its just her sitting alone, she feels their eyes and closes her own as she pushes off the chair and takes the few steps to join the circle. She hesitates again thinking of something to say but in the end she just nods and places her hand on top of the rest.

 

Evelyn nods at Quinn  then looks past the group at her uncle. Warren steps up and Evelyn raises her left-hand  palm out toward Clairburn, while keeping her right, containing the cross, under the others. “Magic always requires a sacrifice. That is the first lesson. Even with magic you cannot get something from nothing.”

 

Warren takes a small pocketknife from his pocket and opens it and then takes Evelyn’s up-held hand in his left and places the blade against her palm. The kids watching see tiny scars across her palm that  they had missed before: they can also see the same sort of scars on Clairburn’s left palm as well.

 

“Life is the greatest sacrifice and blood is the vessel of life, this much has been true since the first spell worker walked within this world. I freely and with love and understanding, give my blood and my life to you, my Circle, and so this covenant is sealed, and we are one,” says Evelyn in a sing song manner.

 

Warren slashes the blade across her palm not deep but enough to make a good flow of blood. He releases her hand and steps away and Evelyn takes her bleeding hand and holds it palm down over the clasped hands of the Kids and the cross. It happens quickly and several of the kids gasp and some even flinch. The Blood flow is faster, and there is more blood than the cut looked like it should produce.  It pours down onto Quinn’s hand runs between her fingers and onto the hands below. Both she and hank instinctively try to draw their hands back, but some invisible force holds them in place. The blood seems to cover the Kids hands and fills Evelyn’s palm holding the cross in less than a minute, but that time still seems like all night.

 

Suddenly the teenage witch pulls her left hand away closing it into a fist and there is a silent pulse just like that felt when each kid first held the cross except this time it is deep within each of them and as the watch the blood witch coats their hands seems to fade away as if sopped up by an invisible rag.

 

“There,” Evelyn opens her hand which was cut and the kids can see a new pink scar where the already healed cut was made, but there is no blood. “I know it seems messy and overly dramatic. But it is what works.”

 

“Really, do you mean we have to cut ourselves every time we want to do some magic,” asks Roach sardonically?

 

“No, not at all. Some things like making the lights come on or swinging an open door shut I can teach you to do just by willing it. We call it poltergeisting. Really anyone with any sort of magical connection can do that…”

 

Evelyn starts explaining and teaching the new circle some o the basics of spell casting and being a witch as they realized that they were starving and grabbed snacks and pizza and soda and Warren slipped away and left the kids to be kids for the rest of the night. Afterall,  it might be a long time before they could ever be just kids again.

 

Spoiler

This ends the scene. If you have any rp you want to post for the remainder of this night feel free to do so but don't linger it is my intention to move to the next scene fairly quickly as we have a new player i want to get into the game asap its already been longer than i told him due to storms and stuff. but I'll give some time  for rp.

 

Everyone gets 5 xp and the following. As always if you have a question ask.

 

Spell Reader Power Trait and the Spell-Touched Power Trait.

Each of the Kids needs to choose one of these traits. This is a free trait and does not count against the total a Kid can possess.  For the purpose of our game the fundamental difference between the two traits is roleplaying.  Both can cast spells but only one can create new spells. As such think about the roleplaying aspect when deciding which trait to choose.

 

Readers or Spell-Touched spellcasters.

The key difference between a Spell Reader versus a Spell-Touched Witch here is whether or not they can create new spells. A key step in performing Witchcraft as presented in this book is the actual “crafting” of a spell from an Intention to a final effect. Only those with the Spell-Touched Trait can craft original spells, those with the Spell Reader Trait can instead only work with existing spells written down in some form.

 

Both Spell Readers and Spell-Touched have some shared amount of innate knowledge about how  witchcraft works, so explicit step-by-step instructions aren’t always vital for a Spell Reader to perform a spell, they just lack the necessary understanding and intuition to create all-new spells — they are beholden to wiser witches with a flair for this kind of thing to give them a “recipe” as it were.

 

 

New Drawbacks for Witches

While magic can often be a solution to problems, it isn’t always easy.

Here are some new Drawbacks for your game. If your game doesn’t normally include Drawbacks, ignore any and all rules related to Drawbacks mentioned in this game (they’re a core part of Stranger Stuff).

Talisman Dependent Witchcraft Draw back

Choose some item to act as your Talisman — typically a piece of jewelry like a necklace or ring — Without your Talisman, you are not  able to perform your magic. This item is not technically Stuff (without Gamemaster discretion) as it doesn’t function for other people, however Witches with your Talisman might be able to treat it as if you were aiding them while casting spells, essentially stealing your power against your will (you are treated as having one more Witch casting the spell, but they

are only treated as in your Coven if the Talisman was given willingly). Your Talisman can always be your Focus for spells.

Coven Dependent Witchcraft Draw back

You need your fellow Witches to be able to perform even simple spells. You must have at least three members of your Coven with you for any witchcraft.

Tainted Magic Draw back

Your spells come from a Dark source, and thus all your spells are inherently Black Magic (see later chapters for more on this). You are either unable to perform White Magic, or your traditionally White Spells are innately Black Magic as well.

 

New Trait for Witches. This must be bought with XP and does count against your total.

 

Powerful Witch Trait

When performing a Witchcraft Test, you succeed on a 5 or 6 normally on your own. If you are part of a Coven casting a spell, you succeed on a 4-6 when casting with two Witches, a 3-6 when casting with three Witches, or a 2-6 when casting with four or more Witches of the Coven. If you have the Talisman Dependent Witchcraft Drawback, you instead succeed on a 5 or 6 when you have your Talisman but are able to cast spells only on a 6 without it.

 

 

 

 

 

[Nina]

The kids listened to and practiced the things Evelyn was showing them - it was just what they needed to put the dread out of their minds, plus it was fun. But as the wee hours of the morning approached and sleepiness took over, one by one they snuggled into sleeping bags to catch a few snippets of sleep before true morning.

 

Most of them that is.

 

Soon after sleep settled in over the group, Evelyn quietly slipped from her bag and disappeared into the kitchen. She didn’t notice that Silas hadn’t been asleep but only laying down, pretending.

 

The boy’s red rimmed eyes watched the witch disappear into the darkness. He silently slipped from his own bag after making sure everyone else, especially Quinn, were really asleep. He rose to his feet and stopped dead as he saw two sets of eyes staring at him from the darkness. Banner and the cat, Isis, both resting near Jo looking as if they had been deep in the middle of some philosophical conversation.

 

He gave the two of them a 'don't mind me, just passing through' wave, though his expression was clearly more 'what the. . .?' Cats and dogs, conspiring on something. The world really is nuts now. It was a half-joke in his head, but he wondered just how smart the two animals really were. Banner had always been a bit more than your average dog, and not just in size, and Isis was Evelyn’s. A witch's familiar. . . ? Hey, do the rest of us get those now? Quinn's'll be a horse.

 

He slipped from the pile of sleeping kids and past the animals sentries keeping a careful watch on him. He glanced back toward the kitchens and listened: Evelyn had gone that way and so he was going the other way. He paused at the doors into the foyer; hearing nothing he quietly opened the door and slipped through and then just as quietly closed it. Dim light shined in from the windows by the front door, casting shadows which took on menacing forms to his tired mind. He glanced into the living room across the hall where he had searched for Dylan earlier and though the doors were open this time, no lights shone in there and he heard nothing the the night noises of an old house.

Upstairs, the bedrooms will be up there. Did he dare? He moved to the staircase and took the steps slowly to the first landing, then paused .What will he think? What will he think I’m thinking? I want to talk. He took the first step onto the second flight and suddenly felt the familiar electric brush of icy fire at his back. Spinning, Silas came face to face with Dylan. Silas was on a higher step and for the first time the two stood eye to eye.

 

Silas smiled at first, whispering, "How can you sneak up on me like. . .?" Then images from the vision flooded through his mind - the kissing, but then what came after - and his banter faltered. He half-reached out to Dylan but couldn't quite bring himself to touch the other boy, as if doing so might cause him harm again. "Do. . .do you remember what happened? What I saw in that vision?"

 

"No I didn't see what you saw, but I think I might know what it was." Dylan glanced around. "Let’s go outside where we can talk."

 

"Okay," Silas said, following along after Dylan. Outside was good for talking. Way less creepy than the shadowy house and the last talk outside had gone. . .goodish?

 

Dylan didn’t stop on the veranda but kept on going, walking past the parked bicycles and the old hearse, finally arriving at the fountain. Silas followed him the whole way silently. When Dylan stopped he didn't look at Silas at first; his eyes swept the nearby trees instead. Silas couldn't help but notice the intensity of the other boy’s searching gaze.

 

"Is there something out there?" Silas asked as softly as he could, half-turning to look for signs of movement or disturbance.

 

Dylan takes a deep breath, looks back at Silas, "Nothing to worry about but it is safe to assume that there is always something out there. Until tonight Silas you have lived inna world with very strict rules and structures. All that is changed now. Theys still rule sand structures, but theys different than before." He shrugged and hopped up on the lip of the fountain and started walking around it, arms held out to keep his balance. "I think I know what you may have seen and for that I am sorry. I think you may have gotten that from me."

 

"Gotten that from you?" Silas asked, watching him for a moment and then joined him on the lip of the fountain, bare feet gripping the stonework securely as he wandered the other direction. It was a nice distraction, the physicality of balance and the minor danger of getting a good dunk if he let himself get too distracted. He'd climb trees and make his way from one to another on the larger branches when he was out in the forest keyed up from school or a fight with one of the other Walsh Street kids. "I was in the memory, too. 'Coulda just been me. Either way. . .Are you a part of the Circle, too? You always do what Evelyn tells you to, but it feels strange. Like she's got some hold on you that ain't just you workin' for her uncle."

 

Dylan hopped down off the small rise and spun around, catching Silas under the arms and lifting him off the fountain. He continued the spin and put Silas down gently on the ground where they could stand facing each other. The Walsh boy could feel the electric waves of heat and cold rolling through him but he felt something different this time. This time he felt them going through him and him sending waves of. . .something  back into Dylan.

"Is this what you saw?" Dylan stepped away but kept hold of Silas's hand; then they were standing in the old cabin - not so old now and little details were different, how it must have been a hundred years ago. He and Dylan stood near the back wall by a rickety bunk bed; in the middle of the room Silas saw Dyaln holding a girl with dark curly hair a girl just about Silas's size. They were holding each other and kissing passionately.

 

Silas started at the sudden moving around and then shift to another time and place. He flushed deeply at the sight of Dylan kissing the unknown girl. "Uh, yeah," he whispered as if the past could hear them, "maybe? I-it weren't a girl, 'less. . .I mean. . ." he flushed even more deeply, realizing that in his vision he’d seen himself, but that didn't mean it really was him.

 

Dylan waved his free hand and the action in the cabin froze, even the dust motes in the air. "Magic is fickle. ‘Specially if you abuse it. That may not look like you, Silas, but it was you. I- I knew that the moment I laid eyes on you. Flesh and blood are just anchors to keep us in the world. What matters is our souls, that the part that never dies. You. . . she. . . Her name was Darlene. She was a Walsh and I was a Clairburn. Our grandpappies had had a fallen out years before, don't know what about - don't matter. Darlene was supposed to marry a feller from Atlanta.” Dylan grimaced, “Son of a bitch were almost twenty years older than her. But we was in love. Her daddy caught us when we snuck up to the cabin an’ he killed us. Tha’s what started the feud."

 

Silas shivered and his hand squeezed Dylan's hard as the sound of shotgun fire and the memory of Dylan slamming into the cabin wall raced through his mind - as if holding his hand could make it so it hadn't happened. "Why d'you look the same an' Imma boy now?" he asked, trying to find something to focus on and calm his heart rate.

 

Dylan barked a short laugh, "Cause I'm cursed, Silas. Back then the Circle wasn't so open about themselves. They kept secrets and with the falling out between our families, well, many of us just didn’t know all that about the stuff Warren told you about. I found out I could do magic, but there weren’t no one who would teach me and I didn't know I could’a asked my own family.” He sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, I sought out some witches down in Savannah. I made some bad decisions. I was gonna use the power to take you. . .take Darlene away.  I died owin’ on my soul and so I didn't pass on." 

 

Dylan looks longing into Silas's eyes. "Until I saw you Silas, until that first time I touched you, I was nothing but a spector. I been haunting this old house and that old cabin for a hundred years."

 

Spector? Ghost. He means he's a ghost. 'Cause he owes some witch's circle in Savannah. And that means he needs to be freed, but that would mean he'd pass on, right? He'd. . .go away? Die, finally, all the way? The speculation whirled through Silas' mind like a thousand different waves all crashing on the same beach at the same time. Impulsively he grabbed Dylan into a tight hug and hung on as if he could just will the other boy back into life. Into this one or the life he should have had with Darlene.

 

As if reading Silas's mind Dylan reached up and brushed the curls back from the younger boy’s forehead. "It is a little bit complicated. I was trapped as a bodiless spirit. Trapped in that house and in the cabin until a little boy on a dare ran up and jiggled the doorknob of the big house. That was the first time I saw you and I saw your soul ‘cause you can't hide that from a spirit. We- they can always see your soul." 

 

Dylan looks up and away, "From that moment on I could appear. I was still a ghost but I could poltergeist as well as any witch alive. Then Warren came and since he was the master of the house, I had to appear to him. But when you and the others came and that first time I touched you. . .for a time after I could hold together a body. Then today when we touched something happened, and here I am now.  This is a body, real and solid - it has a heart and there is blood flowing in these veins. I don't know if I'm alive or what. Warren and Miss Evelyn will try to find that out." he touches Silas's hair again, “All that matters is I'm here and I'm real and you're with me."

 

"So that's why you do what they say? Because they own the house or are Clairburns or. . ." Silas shook his head and just kept holding on to Dylan. "You know what? I don't care. You're here and you're here and right now that's all I care about. There's too much everything else. We'll figure it out."

 

He looked up at the taller boy and asked softly, "Together, right? We'll. . .we'll make it work this time. No stupid feuds and if my parents don't approve, well, I've got three years and then even the law says they don't get a say in who I see or what I do." He smiled up at Dylan, babbling a little now because he wanted an excuse to stay right here like they were for exactly as long as they could - not a moment less. "And they don't know half the times I sneak out an' go some where anyways. Always just assume it's out in the woods. Which used to be right. That or over ta Quinn's."

 

"And what about Quinn?" Dylan asked as he held Silas firmer in his arms and rubbed the younger boy’s back affectionately.

 

"What about Quinn? I just wouldn't be sneaking over ta' her place as much, I guess? I doubt she'll care. Half tha' time it's just so I dun have to get up quite so early ta' go help her with tha' horses, anyways." He frowned and glanced towards the house. "I hope she feels better in the mornin'. She had a rough day and then all this stuff, too."

 

He shook his head, "An' all the stuff 'tween the two of you. I dunno. I think time'll help and her not feelin' embarrassed and you," he tapped Dylan on the back with his fingers, "you not keepin' secrets or spyin' on us. Just hang out. Get ta know everyone. Here, if we've got to, or if this is all Pinocchio and you can leave the house or the cabin, come out with us. Show you know how to treat a horse right and I may have to have words with Quinn over which one of us gets to keep you." He grinned at that, then grimaced. "I ain't takin' another punch from Keith, though."

 

"Okay," was all he said, then he laughed. "I aint rid a horse in a hundred years. As for going out and about, I can now. I used to be bound and could appear either here or at the cabin. That’s how I found out y'all had been there. But I can’t just go there like I could and I'm already over the limit to where I could go before, being on this side a’ the fountain. Hell, Silas Walsh, I might even be able to go to school with ya now."

 

Silas blushed deeply at the thought of Dylan being at school. I wouldn't learn anything all year, he admitted to himself, but he just laid his head on Dylan's shoulder and said, "I'd like that."

 

Dylan smiled and gave Silas another squeeze then draped an arm across his shoulders led him back to the house, "Com’on, it’s late and you need to get some sleep.”

 

[Nina]

Spoiler

New thread will be up in a few minutes. If you had something that should have gone here you can post as a flashback in the new thread.