[CURRENT] Renewal

[iloveyouDIE]

Wil had stuck with Nasir until he had to step forward and the other didn't. He didn't have any fancy words for this and he was horribly uncomfortable in the white shirt and pants. It was the least he'd looked like a hobo in recent years. He also hadn't smoked in nearly a whole day and was a bit too alert for his own liking.

The Blonde pricked his thumb and looked around, "I revoke my consent and use of my magic.." It was all he needed to say, right?

It stung a bit and he watched the blood fall where it was designated to. The artist couldn't help but feeling like he'd gotten way over his head very quickly.

azuredxreams

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh didn't say anything. What the hell was there to say? The previous night had been a disaster, but they had all lived, and things would maybe be okay—at least, the Shiloh a few months ago might have thought that—but as it was, his face looked a little sullen and his eyes were set deep against his face, red rimmed and black rimmed and slightly swollen. He'd slept like a rock, but he sure as ******** didn't look like it.

Instead he was watching Jamie as he pricked his finger, the blood dripping into the smooth lines of the ritual space. Shiloh had no blood to offer. He could still feel the guilt in his shared mind space with Jamie, but a second later it was gone. You're hot when you're strong he teased. If Jamie looked over, he'd catch the s**t-eating grin. If he didn't, it'd still be palpable in their drift.

But whatever, they had work to do here. All their hard work was for this moment, and there in the box—Melany's arm—was the freedom he'd been so desperately working for. He focused on the center of the room, on the box, on his brother and Horace and Elliot...

"Ready whenever you guys are..." He breathed quietly.

 

[lizbot]

As things were getting set up, America loses herself a little in the sensations of the clothes, the scents and visuals surrounding her. It's decidedly cultish and ceremonial in a way that her experience with magic has yet to really present. She finds a deep sense of satisfaction in it that may come a bit unexpected to most, including herself.

Maybe this was part of why she'd been drawn again and again to the churches around town every Sunday morning. She loved the casual freedom and warmth of her magic, but sometimes you want the ceremony. Sometimes you want the elaborate act of time and care and solemn deliberation.

A drop of blood falls to the floor, and America intones the words like a prayer, "I revoke my consent. I revoke my magic."  

[The Semblance of Unity]

Horace had even left his glasses behind in the room, left Nugget behind, too. And all of his piercings. His face felt naked and very vulnerable - Horace did not like it. He could hear Odal milling around, speaking, and the fetch was certainly doing something, but it looked mostly like a bunch of pretty lights to his blurred vision. Then he heard his name and sucked in a deep breath. Horace could feel Eli moving away, Ollie, too, after a bit. But he couldn't see and it left him wide-eyed, even though it wasn't as bad as when Nugget was finding him.

Still, he crouched down, intent on making sure his blood actually fell where it was supposed to. "I revoke my and any previous self's consent - forced, freely given, or implied - for my magic to be used by this construct. The original contract is now null and void." By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes. Horace could see the line solidify as his blood dripped into it. It would have nothing of him any longer and it would be destroyed. He stood up, carefully setting his feet on the lines. Horace glanced over at Kaleb, who stood, looking like a pale ghost of himself. He wasn't sure, but it looked like his eyes were closed. Horace nudged him gently.

"Kaleb, watch me, okay?" Battery man. And he slowly began to walk forward, his footsteps slow, head tucked down so he could freaking see the lines. He probably looked silly, Horace thought, but... he made it. With a sigh of relief, he looked to Elliot and Oliver. "Hey," he said softly.

grey dragon

melancholies

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Glad you could make it," Eli said to both of them, a joke in his voice despite the serious situation. It was only once they'd approached that he opened his eyes and sucked in a breath like he was readying himself to run a marathon. "Think we should hold hands again?"

For as sure as Eli was that holding hands actually, legitimately strengthened their casting and concentration, he still mostly just wanted to do it for the sake of doing it.

One to each of them, he held out his hands. "I can already feel everyone's focus," he said, "It's kinda weird."

Melancholies

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Preacher frowned as Odal lit up her and Kickflip's fire thing and messed around with her and Chester's water stone. She was oddly proud of both of them. But still, she reminded herself to make a note of everything used in the creation in case she had to dismantle that s**t later. Magical sigils and s**t were weird. She almost half-shifted, but remembered Odal had said not to. ******** it.

With normal teeth, she worried at the cut in her thumb - she'd never let it heal, not really. Casting sigils required a pretty steady blood flow and it was easy enough to open up an old wound. She let it drip to the floor, filling in a line (how id it do that? ********' magic bullshit) and swiped it against her shirt. "I hearby revoke any n' all consent given ta use m'magic for any damn thing. Including that orig charter n' tha Burnin' Man's thing. No one can take m'magic from me n' me sayin' this negates any previous agreements for magic takin' or sharin'." There, that covered most of the bases. She shot finger guns at Odal before popping her bloodied thumb in her mouth. Now she had to not move and funnel magic at people. Easy peasy. She slanted a glance at Chester - he didn't gotta p***k his thumb, so...  

[Grey Dragon]

Kaleb was surprised he got any rest the previous night, or managed to put anything in his mouth during the morning's breakfast. The white clothes he wore seemed too large on him, like hand-me-downs he hadn't yet grown into, lending the teen a waif-like, innocent appearance. The previous day's events had left him with an expression that was certainly more lost and worried than when he had arrived for the initial summons.

Taking his place in the circle, he could feel the magic around him as Odal began. It was stronger than anything he had felt before, each step carrying a myriad of sensory experiences. The effects of it all not only left him feeling refreshed physically, but it had restored some of the awe in which he viewed both the magic and the people who were here to contribute to it.

The sudden and unexpected appearance of blood in the room threatened to upend all the positive emotions, bringing the experiences of the previous day to the forefront of his mind, and Kaleb closed his eyes quickly, and swayed slightly on his feet.

He didn't have the courage to open them again until he felt Horace nudge his arm. Placing all his trust in the taller man, Kaleb looked up at him. They had somehow gotten this far, everyone together, and he began to feel a bit more steady and reassured.

Kaleb gave Horace a little smile, and when his friend headed to the center, he lent his focus and magic to the casting.  

[azuredreams]

Nasir was not necessarily rested but, at least with the help from Oliver, he was able to deal with the fact that he was feeling too much. He kept a grounding hold on Wil until his boyfriend had to step forward. Mostly because even if Wil was uncomfortable in the clothing, he was still calm and that was what he needed.

The fact that everyone was focused, however, also helped and - when the time came - Nasir found that he was able to easily pick out Oliver and focus on him. From there he could sense Horace and then Eli as well. Nasir focused on his magic, the feel of it, and imagined it going towards them. Boosting and lifting them up and helping them do what needed to be done.

They could do this together, they could.  

[Smerdle]

Rabbit had slept dreamlessly and deeply for the first time since he'd learned of the sirens' place in the destruction of the old sigil. To his surprise, Oroh had stayed with him once she'd been invited to. They'd had drinks. They'd discussed. They'd reached a point of understanding they'd been building toward for months. It was a comfort to think about even now when he was standing in front of the sigil, a flutter of paranoia still in his heart. Whenever he convinced himself that everything was going to be all right, there was a new betrayal, a new problem. Even so, he couldn't help that he continued to hope. It was his way, he supposed. It was why everything always hurt just a little bit.

Holding out his left hand, Rabbit considered his thumb for a moment before a thin puncture wound opened the skin. A fat drop of blood gathered then fell into the groove at his feet.

"I withdraw my permission for the use of my magic. Rescind, revoke, break. The Burning Man's Charter may no longer make use of my power."

He folded his hands, careful not to touch his stark white clothing, and concentrated on his cut. Once it had closed, he subtly wiggled his fingers at his and Erin's hovercraft as if he was letting it know it was doing a good job in the school play, and then he was still.  

[The Semblance of Unity]

Temperance's night had been largely sleepless. She'd walked around, been herded into her room by a fetch, left it, checked up on people, heard gossip that Alexis Tucker, the idiot, had declined healing. Her mind spun with too many thoughts for much sleep and she washed her hands to the point of rawness. They were tender now, even. Finally, after talking to Mila, she'd slept a bit. Now much, but some. She looked for that bright head of hair now, before stopping herself. The girl was so out of her depth and it wasn't her fault at all. She'd been like that, too - not as cute, but out of depth. Now, look at her, Temperance had six arms and could apparently bring people back from the dead. She swallowed a laugh, instead focusing on what Odal was saying.

Neatly and quickly, she pricked her smooth thumb. The scar around her wrist was light, it was almost not ugly - like a bracelet she'd never wanted. As her blood dripped, she spoke: "I revoke any consent given with this thumb. My magic is no longer allowed to be used for any purpose except what I decide to give forth going forward." And that, Temperance supposed, was that. Around her, everyone else was doing the same. She could see Rabbit (she knew that monstrosity of fans was his and it did the job); her and Theo's bracelet was there, too. So was Theo, she thought, kind of pleased that he'd stuck around. Everyone was counting on this and the next step to work.

With a deep breath, she directed her gaze to the men in the center. She didn't really know them, but sent out her magic. It pushed forward like golden branches, knotty and strong. Temperance focused everything on them.  

[Smerdle]

Chester stood still and silent, watching the proceedings with every intention of recalling them later. He too looked upon the hag stone with pride, nodding once at Preacher when she glanced his way. The Burning Man was contained and at least some of the things her past self had done were about to be unmade. Maybe she could stop getting into so many fights now.

Nah.

- - - - -

Theo stifled a yawn as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered at what he could see of the sigil. He had spent a large portion of the evening wandering the halls in awed silence, missing his solitude and his skunk in equal amounts, and while he was happy to see the earth bracelet he had helped to create put to good use, he was also very tired.

But now was not the time. He rubbed at his eyes and took a deep breath, attention shifting from Temperance to Horace to Nasir to America, and he tried to extend himself toward the sigil, hoping that it was enough to help.  

[shibrogane]

Eli, Horace, and Ollie placed their hands on the box and cast. The vibrations spread through the circle; they could feel it, a very small very fast earthquake as two intensely-magical items were destroyed. It took focus, concentration, intention. Each caster felt the three men drawing from their magical pool, first a trickle of power and then a torrent. It stopped, suddenly, and Odal, where he stood near the hovermonster, seemed to brace himself. The reason why became obvious in a moment.

Like a hammer descending, the sudden upsurge of magic destroyed the peace within the sigil. The earth protecting them like the walls of a cave collapsed, and the warmth of the flames fizzled out. "Stay where you are," he said, his kind voice booming, "This is as expected. We act with intention; we do not run." He gestured, and the second set of magical items were brought out as Odal crossed the diamond from north to east.

Eve and Lily's pinecone didn't seem to be affected by Eve's lack of active magical connection. Odal traced a counter-clockwise circle around it, spread his fingers over it like he was spreading the scent of sandalwood: it was a heady smell, and over it each caster smelled something different, something sweetly nostalgic. Their father's cologne, or their mother's Sunday dinner, or fresh-cut grass and a new book. By the time they've identified the scent, Odal has moved on.

Algernon and Shun's druid stone is next. Odal sheds a drop of blood upon it, and it bursts into riotous bloom, and that same feeling of being encased and safe that the hollyhock bracelet had shared surrounds the participants. Odal moves on, then, wrapping his thumb in a strip of white cloth.

Next is the water artifact: Jamie and Shiloh's conch. Odal picks it up, and kneels, and as he pours sea-water into the groove that forms the diamond the scent carries, and the participants feel refreshed, as if the massive draw of magic to destroy the last remnants of the old Charter had not happened at all.

Then it is the air artifact, the censer with its gentle beehive-hum. Jeremiah and Cassandra each receive a quick glance as Odal lifts the lid, carefully, and a sudden breeze sweeps through the space, leaving the casters invigorated. As he stands there, he says, "Thank you, gentlemen. You may return to your places." He crosses to the box, walking only on the lines, and lifts it away. It is replaced with the frame that had been created by Shun, Nasir, and Wil, but the three of them are not called to the center. Instead, Odal looks to Jeremiah and Algernon.

"Noble Mercer, and Noble Mixlin-Mercer," he says, with a bow of his head, "If you will collect the materials of consent? It is a lock of hair, yes? Walk only along the engraved lines, if you please." Odal looks next to Leila, America, and Kaleb. "And if the three of you will prepare to bind the Charter? Come to the center, walking only on the lines. Do not begin until the casters are prepared, and the consent items are collected. You will spin them and the magic around them into a thread, and bind them about the frame."

He casts his eyes downward. "If you do not offer your power to bind this creation, please leave the circle. If you are not prepared to do this with intention, with honesty, and with full desire to take responsibility for what you create with your peers, leave the circle now; if you have doubts or ill thoughts, leave the circle now; if you have no trust in those around you, leave the circle now. It is alright to be anxious, to be apprehensive, only know that you are among friends, and I shall allow no harm to come to you."

Your response for this prompt should be 250 words or more, and touch upon the offering of your consent (with a lock of hair) and your character's resolve to do what they can. If your character has doubts, etc, please do mention them, but know you aren't required to leave the circle from an OOC standpoint, rofl.

This phase will end on the 3rd of July, and we will move into casting.  

[azuredreams]

It is something he will never get used to, the feeling of his magic being drawn away from. It is not a terrible feeling, at least, not like when his magic was suppressed and he felt as if he was being stifled. Jeremiah instead felt like he was steeped in it even as the casters worked, drawing their magic and using it to destroy.

The shattering of their protection, the dispersement, was odd but quickly followed by Odal speaking and the activation of the other items. With a comforting scent breathed in and followed by the same feeling of encased and protected, he was ready. His energy returning was welcome, though he merely raised an eyebrow at Odal's glance.

Was that because he expected to get stung by a horde of bees? Probably but these were illusionary and meant to help them foster the feeling of community for all (and only Cass had gotten swarmed by the bees in the beginning anyway). At being called, a nod was given. A look was shared between him and Algie before moving as instructed. Jeremiah follows the path as he is meant to, helping to gather a lock of hair from each person (Cass is right there, so, of course, she is the first one he takes from).

It is as he walks that he focuses on what he wants to see achieved, the community that he wants to see created. There is no room for doubts in his mind and he does not even have them. The previous day with the Burning Man has left him with none. Instead it has strengthened his resolve. Let this represent my consent, he thinks, let this show that I wish for my magic to work together with the magic of others to create this new Charter and forge a path of our own doing. One where death is not a necessity, where abuse does not beget abuse and innocents are not harmed, where we will find a way that helps everyone and not just some. Let this give us a chance and help us to eventually be free. That we need not sacrifice one for many.

Eventually, once he has gathered a lock of hair from those he passed by, he meets Algie at Odal. A lock of his own hair finally joins the rest, ready to be transformed so that it can become part of the new Charter. For their magic - everyone's magic - to be bound up within it and give power to that which they were going to create. This was the time when differences and problems could be put aside and they could do something that was good.  

[Blade Kuroda]

While his fingers twitched from the sudden surge of magic, Shun stayed in place. He watched as Odal moved on from the destruction to the setup of the creation of the new charter.

The druidstone bloomed as expected, and then his attention shifted to the box that had been created to serve as the new frame. His brow raised at the mention of hair being needed to show consent. Interesting, he supposed. It was also easy enough to put into the box.

Begrudgingly, he went on to chop off a small lock of his hair, waiting for either Mercer to come and collect. This was it. The old charter had been demolished. Ahead was going to be a new path they were all going to forge ahead. They were certainly going to try and set things right.

The topic of trust had Shun pause, however. He glanced around at those around him. Trust was not easy. There were those here that he certainly did not trust with his life. Everyone... probably had decent intentions with this, though. Maybe. Generally speaking, people were s**t. The fact that they were here in the first place was a testament to that. The night before, as well.

He closed his eyes, shoving these thoughts away and out of his mind for the time being. He instead turned his focus solely onto the task that was before them. This was not the time to be questioning the others internally. Eyes reopened and he didn't budge from his position. He had his part to take, and he was determined to not ******** this up, one way or another. He was tired of failing. Tired of partial or empty victories. The past year had been full of so many of them. So now he was ready and willing to do whatever it took to see this through. Even if it meant trying to give an ounce of trust that these others would feel the same. Or at least hoping they would.

Because failure was, once more, not an option.

It never was.