deercountry | Dance with the Devil [OTA]

Character Name: Tara Maclay

Who: Tara and OTA
What: Catch-All, Dealing with
When: July
Where: Around

Gimmie that Old School Magic

[Corruption wasn't exactly good to have if someone was trying to heal others of corruption. Her ambivalence to her state, the voice in the back of her mind telling Tara to stay as she was, was enough of a sign that she should do something. Between the lack of sleep, the dizziness, and the need to feed from the energy of others, it was hard to get much done but remain stuck in the constant state of corruption.

So basic methods that she used on others was the best option.

Meditation and sharing energy would only encourage her to feed, so that was out. The herbs didn't really have an effect, that left crystals.

Being in front of the sapling left Tara uncomfortable, but given what was needed, she had little choice. Meditating beside it, she did her best to create roots for herself through energy, feeding on the earth and channeling it into the crystal. For a time, it seemed to work, but just as the quartz turned from white to gray to near black, it shattered in her hands, almost hitting her face and eyes.]

Oh no.

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( It's been a rough month. (Rough few months? How long has it been? Time's strange lately.) Peter's generally staying holed up in his room, but sometimes he can't drown out the restlessness and ache of things with music and weed the way he usually can. Lately, it's too much — so he wanders, goes for little walks with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his head kept down. He doesn't really want to be around people right now, doesn't want to talk, to try to pretend like he's a normal person.

He's tired, and it shows in his features: eyes rimmed in dark circles, weepy-looking.

He's walking through an area of the city that he doesn't think he's been to before, when he feels... something. Some shift, some movement: some flow of energy. It catches something inside of him, something that's so sensitive to things like magic and energy, and it flutters within Peter, like a pair of second eyes opening up. He flinches, looks up to see a young woman sitting there.

Suddenly, something breaks? Shatters — and Peter startles. There's alarm clear in his voice as he approaches her, though he's hesitant, almost seems afraid of her, and whatever energy he was feeling. He's still so nervous about things like this. )

Hey— Are... are you okay?

[She hadn't expected an audience, but felt less shy of strangers than before. It was likely the corruption, easing away some of her older faults, encouraging more apathy in general, but also seeing people as potential sources of energy. That part of her wanted to feed, badly.

By the look of him, he was struggling though. Was it fatigue that made those circles or something else? Weed had a way of sticking to people's clothes and she can catch a faint whiff of it. There was also something else- a feeling of some type of energy she might recognize or denote someone...special? It was hard to explain.

Tara got to her feet and brushed off the shards of the quartz.]

A spell backfired, that's all. Thank you.

( As the young woman stands, Peter can't help tensing a bit, betraying some of his fear. Instinct in the face of things like magic always makes him want to run — but he doesn't, he stays where he is, looking her over worriedly. A spell backfiring? He's no stranger to that; he lives with a witch, and he's seen how bad things like that can go. )

Oh— that sounds... like it could be dangerous.

( He offers, eyes glancing down to the shards that she'd brushed off, wondering just what that was. And within him, the Other Thing's eyes widen up further, feelers brushing outwards, so curious of the girl. Of anyone who feels like a witch or magician, a spell-caster. Such things are so important to its ancient spirit.

When Peter looks back up at her, his eyes are a bit hazy, pupils swollen into black. It isn't exactly him asking the question, but something that can't hide its curiosity, slipping out to see her a bit better. )

Are you a witch?

It can be with the wrong spell, but this was just me trying to cure some corruption. There's nothing dangerous that can happen aside from a crystal exploding on me.

[Or, you know, on someone else. He didn't look like he was hit, as far as she could tell. He does seem skittish, but it's hard to gauge whether that's because of the explosion or something else.

Oh that's...something.

She cleared her head, focusing until she could see Peter's aura, trying to get a read on what exactly was happening to him. Danger? Supernatural forces? Auras were the best barometer.]

Yes. You're not...?

[Not so much a question as still figuring out what this was.]

( The thing inside of Peter doesn't have to hide the way it once did, back in Deerington. This place is... different. There's ancient things here, and magic, and its spirit isn't held back and smothered down anymore. Its power leaks, and it wants to be seen. Especially by someone like her. Witch.

So it lets its energy flicker outwards: it shines with an alien brightness, endless colours and sounds and languages, nothing remotely human. Its energy might be painful to touch upon, even through the padding of a human host's skin. But it greets her with a flickering, eager curiosity, not something intending to be intimidating, despite the fact it might feel that way. The demon king's spirit is too strong for it to temper down. Peter's eyes are very wide. )

No, but I know of witches. ( He says slowly, each word weighted. Never mind that Peter probably seems kind of insane right now; the demon's found another witch to reach out to. )

They are.... important. To me. They are the ones who.... summon me.

Dance with the Devil [OTA]

if you're cool with new cr! (cw: brief mention of ~recreational drugs)

Absolutely!

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