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Post by Thea on Jul 27, 2023 0:25:46 GMT -5
Dutifully, Gwen wrote it down, knowing that he was giving her some sort of directions for the (supposed) grimoire. But between his condescending tone and the very vague words, she felt her skin crawl. Like her ancestresses were looking over her shoulder and tsked their disappointment. "What are you, part-faerie?" she asked hotly, slamming the notepad down on her bedside table.
Then she slammed her mouth closed, teeth clicking together in a condemning way. She had no response to his mention of a spell, but wasn't surprised that he cast one on it. Did that mean she was going to leave it be until he could get his hands on it? No. She was sure she could find her way around it. She didn't become an elder of her coven for nothing, after all. "If I'm the only person you trust then you need to do some serious reflection," she muttered, then couldn't help the half-surprised snort. "Rescue?"
Was that the reason why it took him forever to get in contact with her again? Her eyes rolled up to the heavens. "And here I thought you hated me, Isaiah." His name left a slimy feel in her mouth, but the relief she felt knowing he was otherwise incapacitated and not purposefully causing her psychological problems was palpable. "If you want my help I can teach you your first lesson in witch magic. Though I would need you to give me more information like where you are and who you need rescuing from."
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Post by Decoii on Jul 30, 2023 18:14:01 GMT -5
To say he felt worn down after all the time locked away in this hotel room would have been an understatement. But much to Isaiah's amusement, his lips curled up when she asked if he was part faerie. It was such a stupid thing to say, in such a stupid tone of voice, in such an important time. With all of her exasperation and humor, he found that it wasn't so hard to talk to her.
As long as he wasn't looking at her ugly face or thinking about her dirty race, that is.
At the very least, he could admire that she was strong willed for a witch. Everyone else had cried and coward, running away as soon as he left with their rejection on his shoulder. Granted, he could have forced them to teach him. But seeing the fear and weakness in their eyes further soured his opinion of their race. His mother wasn't like that, though, and Gwen oddly reminded him of his mother's fire-fueled spirit.
He did find himself laughing, much to his dislike at how blatantly rude her following comment was. Did he need to reflect? Sure. Did he need a witch to tell him to reflect? Absolutely not. However, he felt too worn down to fight her. Especially after giving her the information to possibly one of the most powerful and sought after grimoires. He was nervous and it was too late to change his mind.
Finally, he snapped out of his stupor, realizing he'd developed his childhood habit of biting his nails under stress. To break the silence, he sighed into the phone. "I don't believe in faerie." It was the easiest thing to get off of his chest. The silence that followed was heavy and he knew she wanted to mock and question and joke, but Isaiah missed all of that with how heavily his mind was tangled.
He saw the curiosity in her eyes, saw the fear she bit down, and wondered if she would be different from the others- his mother included.
He clicked his teeth before sighing into the phone, hands darting up to wrap around his hair and pull in frustration. He wasn't ready to tell her the whole truth and this whole thing was just based on the idea that he could do witch magic, he'd been told that to even try would leave to dishonor. To even think about it... He sighed again.
"I'm at the Vargas Hotel." He explained lightly, the largest and most upscale hotel possible. The Cabal put a lot of value in money and their image. "I'm... Part of the Cabal in one way or another, you could say, this isn't- you shouldn't-" He paused, biting his nail. "Gwen, you need to understand that if you pick up that grimoire, it isn't just about a legendary book that could strengthen your magic and make you more powerful. There's... The Vargas Cabal will do as they wish to find it and your life means nothing more than a speck of dust to them."
"I'm being held on the fifth floor, guarded. If I manage to get out on my own, I'd need to be cloaked the moment I step foot outside this building. If I leave, they'll know I have it."
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Post by Thea on Jul 31, 2023 0:23:24 GMT -5
"That's got to be a joke," Gwen scoffed. Not believing in faerie as someone who was part of myth and legend themself was blatantly ignorant. But his answering silence told her that he actually didn't. She couldn't help the sneer. Moments later, she sighed herself. She didn't believe in the existence of sorcerers until Isaiah destroyed her shop that day. Besides, she envied him. That meant that he's never had the displeasure of the fucking assholes wreaking havoc on his life.
With one hand on her hip and head tilted in an expression of, "You're wasting my time spill the beans, dude", she waited rather impatiently for him to speak. Once he started her demeanor changed slowly to nervousness, then as if the world weighed heavily on her shoulder. Just what was she getting herself into? There wasn't really anything in this for her. Not really. Only a desire to learn more about sorcerers and why her nonna spoke of them as bogeymen and not real threats. Ayden Violeta's grimoire was a real-ticket item, though. To have her hands on it? To hide it from the sorcerers? To take down a cabal? Was she even strong enough to do so?
But her mother died because of sorcerers, right? That was what Nonna always said. She sacrificed herself to save her daughters from them. Gwen should see a sorcerer's need for her help as auspicious. This was a time for justice. Or at the very least to prove herself to her coven and her fellow elders. "I'm not scared of death, Isaiah," she said finally. "It's a natural part of life."
But that didn't mean she wasn't scared of the repercussions if she was caught with a sorcerer.
"The Vargas Hotel, hmm?" she mused as a pivot in the conversation. "The ritzy gold-colored eyesore in the newer part of the city? Why am I not surprised? Also, why do you want to take down your own cabal? Anyway." She waved her free hand in the air as if swatting away an annoying fly. "Fifth floor." She picked up her pen and wrote it down. "Guarded. Need to be cloaked. All right, more complicated than I would have liked. Let's see, what phase is the moon in... ah! The new moon is tomorrow. Coincidence? I think not. That's a perfect time for a cloaking spell. Usually you get two days before and two days after a new moon to feel the energy but with you being a sorcerer it's probably best if you used the peak time to better get results. In the meantime, do you know if you have an animal familiar or some other sorcerer equivalent?"
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Post by Decoii on Jul 31, 2023 22:41:29 GMT -5
He opened his mouth to exclaim that her shop was more of an eyesore (even a headache- with all those putrid incense smells) than his fathers hotel. He grunted instead- closing his mouth tight. He might be at odd ends with his family, and he might even be betraying his whole race, but that didn't mean that he didn't have deep rooted pride in where he came from.
Everything was just a bundle of mixed feelings that weighed him down, so he wasn't expecting how sour that light comment would make him. Or how he wanted to come to the defense of his father- of the power the sorcerers held over the world. But he was talking to a witch, a breed that had been oppressed by his own people. He didn't think it was in his best interest to really say anything at the moment when it came to this.
"If it was any less complicated, I wouldn't need any help." He said teasingly- because really- who did she think she was talking too? "Besides, dealing with half-demons isn't something to take lightly. Those are my guards, the fire type at that too. Dad was really serious this time...." His eyes widened lightly, had he ever told her that the head of the strongest sorcerer cabal at the moment was his father?
He didn't know. But he was sure he never told her about his mother.
"Listen, after the whole ordeal with Ayden... The Cabal has removed any witches they may have been working with. Meaning no perimeter spells -I can move freely unless someone sees me- No spells that could hear our conversation, and no hidden guards. The best they can do is a location spell if they work with a witch. That's why I haven't left. I can make it outside on my own but after that? Without being cloaked, where do I go?"
He took a deep breath. Can he trust a witch to cloak him properly? could he trust that the book wouldn't be found, that they wouldn't be found? Could he trust her power? He paused, brain working overtime as he squinted his eyes and chewed his lip, holding the phone tighter in his grip.
"What am I even saying? I can't use witch magic, just like you can't use our magic. I mean," He paused to laugh. "Animal familiars? Phases of the moon? Faeries? No offense but you're starting to sound like a quack."
More seriously he asked, "This place is surrounded by sorcerers but if you brave it... If I can come to you and you can cloak me the moment I step out of this hotel... I'll tell you everything about Ayden. I'll lay everything on the table. You can reach the roots -the true roots- of what our kind was supposed to be. We can't discriminate against each other, we can't fight, we have to absolutely trust one another."
The idea also soured his mouth a bit. "Say you're in or out. If you're in just tell me when you'll be ready and I'll do the rest. I'm getting tired of talking so damn much."
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Post by Thea on Aug 15, 2023 20:53:19 GMT -5
Despite his blatant distrust of her abilities, and the resulting indignant inhale, she hung up the phone with the promise that she was in. She would rescue him from his tower and she would do it in such a way that he wouldn't call her a quack again.
Gwen didn't get that much sleep last night, her body tossing and turning under her duvet much like her mind was. Isaiah was a pain, right from the moment she saw him. Yes, one could argue that it was because witches and sorcerers were mortal enemies, but Gwen would wager that her hatred for him ran a little deeper than that. For someone that wanted her help, acted as if he needed it, he had a hell of a way of showing it.
Her nonna told her that in the end, she had the power to do anything she wished. If she could speak with her now, she was sure the old crone would say - after yelling at her for interacting with a sorcerer in the first place - that if he was that irritating she could very well tell him to fuck off. She should just call him now and say "This isn't going to work because I hate your guts." But her desire to be taken seriously as an elder topped that. How better than to simultaneously take down a cabal and learn more about the "sorcerers' whore"? And from the sound of it, there were more like her at one point in time.
With a low, self-deprecating word, she threw back her cover and snatched up her notebook, picturing that it was Isaiah's neck instead. "Backrooms, third floor. Next town to the west." The random set of decimal numbers sounded something like the Dewey Decimal system.
"Because it is, duh," she muttered to herself. Gwen didn't realize it at first. But hours after the phone call with Isaiah, she's steadily putting the puzzle pieces together. He placed it in a library in the next town over. She would call him clever if she didn't hate him so much.
***
The next day wasn't Tuesday, her only designated day off. But she wanted to get her hands on Ayden's grimoire before her rescue mission tonight - despite Isaiah's warning she wanted to have some time alone with it. Isaiah said that she was the only person he trusted, but because of their current, rather uneasy, alliance that didn't mean that she trusted him. As paranoid as it sounded, she had thought that this could very well be a trap for her. Isaiah sounded sincere, but it wasn't every day your kind's sworn enemy comes knocking on your door.
So she left a sign on her front door before she left: BE BACK BY NOON!
And then she traveled west.
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Post by Decoii on Dec 20, 2023 15:32:18 GMT -5
The most annoying part of it all was that Isaiah didn't want to stop talking to Gwen. It wasn't something he was willing to admit to himself, ever, but the silence and stillness of his room was driving him crazy. So a couple of minutes after hanging up the phone, he fought the temptation to call her back just to argue with her. Television was shit and looking out of his window only made him try to calculate his survival rate.
All in all, things could be a lot worse. His dad could have chosen to lock him up in a dungeon of some sort. Did Isaiah think his dad owned a dungeon? Probably not, but the Vargas Cabal had more than enough money to create one just in his honor. Why not lock the half breed sorcerer up in a windowless room and set it on fire? He was working himself up into a headache just thinking about it.
It wasn't his fault that he was born. It wasn't his fault that his father, one of the most strongest and influential people fucked a witch and made a child., was it? But here he was, a dead mother and angry father. All for what? What was the reason? He didn't know.
What he did know was that his mother wasn't even accepted for being a witch, and that life as a simple sorcerer seemed out of reach for him. Like the torch of his mothers trauma was passed down to him, along with her wonderful smile and gentle eyes.
And as he laid in his bed, he wondered if he should open that book and explore the wonders within or just hand it to his father so he could eat at his favorite restaurant.
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Post by Thea on Feb 20, 2024 23:25:34 GMT -5
((It really has been two months. I'm awful ugh.))
The next city to the west (that had a library anyway) was about thirty minutes after she made it out of the busy traffic of a college town. Gwen kept Isaiah's "gift" in the cupholder in case he decided to call her and her music at a reasonable volume, humming and tapping the steering wheel along to any song she knew. It wasn't an eventful car ride by any means, but that meant that Gwen was ... in her head.
She was in way over it, more like. Last night she was so sure of herself. She was the youngest elder on the council, a savvy and smart businesswoman, and very much capable of her magick. Gwen wanted to make Isaiah see it. Just like she wanted everyone else to see it. Guinevere Viotto was no child. She did not doubt her capabilities to steal Isaiah away from the Vargas Cabal as she was going to bed. But the longer she was in the car seat, the more she started getting antsy.
What the hell was she thinking?!
The population sign for the City of Carson passed by her quickly, and the exit she needed to take was almost missed too before her intuition punched her in the gut and she jumped out of her anxious train of thought. "Fuck me," she thought, because her worries hadn't just been about how she was going to help Isaiah escape. She was starting to worry for Isaiah as well. He hadn't called her at all today. Or texted her. She chalked it up to maybe he couldn't use his phone during the day. But hadn't he tried to call her yesterday during her working hours? She would have figured that he would keep her updated. Ask her if she could make it to the hotel by a certain time. Something for Christ's sake!
Automatically, her lungs breathed in a gulp of air, then let it out slowly. Now she was walking up concrete steps, past marble-facade columns, and through the two sets of double doors.
***
It didn't take long to the third floor.
No one stopped her. There only seemed to be three librarians, two at the front desk and one she just passed as she took the elevator to the third floor. All three of them seemed tired - seems like the after-lunch slump because not one of them acknowledged the curvaceous woman with outrageously square sunglasses perched on top of her head and a (not really) Versace black tote bag. Something had to be watching over her - surely not her ancestors - because she didn't take long to seek out what she could only assume were the back rooms. Marked "library personnel only", she picked out the camera looking her way and whispered a few words. There was no red light to indicate whether it was recording; none of the state-of-the-art stuff did anymore. Her intuition whispered this time, giving her the green light. Casually she put down the crack-spined Lord of the Rings book and walked inside.
Gwen almost didn't need the Dewey Decimal system. The essence of the spell enveloped her senses in every sense of the word - both physical and non. A groan of pain escaped her. Damn, it was almost like Isaiah was in the same room as her with a surprise attack. Admittedly, it took her a few moments to recover, peeling herself from the door before forcing one step in front of the other. Why didn't she feel the spell past the personnel door? Surely magick of this magnitude would have been felt from the front steps. And yet, as she let her third eye guide her, the spell seemed to be growing faint. Or at least more bearable.
Sorcerer magick: great for fast and striking offense. But not much else, she thought with a smirk.
Finally. Knowing that the spell for the camera wouldn't last long, she slipped the tome into the tote bag she carried and walked with haste through the library and out the door. It was only in the parking lot that she felt safe enough to pull it out and marvel at it.
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