(no subject)
John has been away from home for far too long, and his patience with the situation has frayed to the ends. PINpoints and technology he doesn't understand has brought him nothing; doorways to every world imaginable but his own. He has worked little spells and had little conversations, and he has watched ghosts of cultures not born of the Earth, and now it is time to do something a bit more drastic.
He's found plains in the Nexus, where the connection to Earth is strong, and walked for miles and miles as the sun vanishes. Now he is alone, surrounded by dirt and dead grass and stones. It's dark except for the fire he's lit, dead in the center of the sigils he's drawn in the ground. Summoning demons is, in a word, stupid, particularly ones this powerful and in such unknown territory - but he needs to get home, and this being will be able to give him the direction he requires.
The bread and wine he consumes are vile - unleavened, stale, flat, half-rotted - but he's used to it, and it's nothing compared to the cold, dark, stagnant blood that follows it. He cuts his wrist and the inside of his mouth, drawing around the fire and ignoring the pain, speaking long-dead words through the blood in his mouth.
He's found plains in the Nexus, where the connection to Earth is strong, and walked for miles and miles as the sun vanishes. Now he is alone, surrounded by dirt and dead grass and stones. It's dark except for the fire he's lit, dead in the center of the sigils he's drawn in the ground. Summoning demons is, in a word, stupid, particularly ones this powerful and in such unknown territory - but he needs to get home, and this being will be able to give him the direction he requires.
The bread and wine he consumes are vile - unleavened, stale, flat, half-rotted - but he's used to it, and it's nothing compared to the cold, dark, stagnant blood that follows it. He cuts his wrist and the inside of his mouth, drawing around the fire and ignoring the pain, speaking long-dead words through the blood in his mouth.