[For Steerpike] "Something Wicked this Way Comes", or Don't disturb a warlock when he's warlocking!
The past three weeks have not been the most pleasant for Muraki: He's spent more than a few late nights rummaging in various tomes hidden on the shelves in his own library as well in the darker corners of the Library of the Mansion, researching till almost sunrise, looking for a pain-free way to break the link between himself and Shilo Wallace. His inner self has been sulking at the idea and this, coupled with his own annoyance at Pandora and Adrian for forcing his hand, has left him more testy than usual. But he gave his word that he would break the ties that bound him to Shilo's essence and thus on the night of the new moon, he sets to work collecting the tools he would need to unravel the working, as he had promised. This includes trimming his hair and binding the clippings to seven candles, though his inner self rankles at what these candles will signify.
It is harder for him to clear his mind as he prepares himself and as he showers to cleanse his mind and body, he has to create the mental image of a spliced cord made of two skeins of silk, one light, one dark, unraveling. Holding this image in his mind's eye, he collects the rest of his implements: more candles, an incense burner, several sticks of black chalk that he's soaked in his own blood, a switchblade knife for his athame. Then at the witching hour, he heads out for the bald spot in the woods, his focus harder to maintain this time as he passes under the trees, his path lit only by the starlight and the wan light from the new moon.
He is so rapt in his thoughts, that he might not notice if someone starts tailing him... though this might be a ruse...
It is harder for him to clear his mind as he prepares himself and as he showers to cleanse his mind and body, he has to create the mental image of a spliced cord made of two skeins of silk, one light, one dark, unraveling. Holding this image in his mind's eye, he collects the rest of his implements: more candles, an incense burner, several sticks of black chalk that he's soaked in his own blood, a switchblade knife for his athame. Then at the witching hour, he heads out for the bald spot in the woods, his focus harder to maintain this time as he passes under the trees, his path lit only by the starlight and the wan light from the new moon.
He is so rapt in his thoughts, that he might not notice if someone starts tailing him... though this might be a ruse...