Encounterlogs
Lilahs Odd Encounter Sr Simon 240307
In the transcendent and mystically laden office of Inigo & Wilson PC, a clandestine meeting unfolds between Lilah and Solomon, delving deep into a world of dark magic and unseen forces. Under a veil of anxiety and a desire to protect her friends, Lilah finds herself enmeshed in Solomon's battle not against him but against his mentor-spirit-thing. The night, however, takes a dramatic turn as a mysterious sensation grips them, heralding a supernatural intrusion from a fledgling eidolon eager to push through into reality. Solomon, seeing an opportunity in this chaotic manifestation, proposes using a binding circle to lure the eidolon and feed it to the entities he serves, enlisting Lilah's help despite her trepidations and inexperience with the arcane.
The chilling ritual begins in the sanctity of Solomon's ritual chamber, with Lilah, the unwitting bait, ensnared within a magical circle, her fears escalating as the eidolon attempts to merge with her. As the nightmarish entity begins to drain her life essence, Solomon's true intentions unfold—he summons the formidable presence of Legion, aiming to offer the eidolon to it. Caught in a terrifying maelstrom of power, Lilah endures the dual invasion of her being by both entities, her screams mirroring her internal horror. In a harrowing climax, the inexperienced eidolon is torn asunder by Legion, leaving Lilah physically and emotionally ravaged. Solomon's comforting embrace offers little solace, leaving a haunting question of safety and trust lingering in the air.
(Lilah's odd encounter(SRSimon):SRSimon)
[Wed Mar 6 2024]
In the inner office of Inigo & Wilson PC
This was once a grand sitting room, now converted with equal grandeur to the office of one of the partners in the firm. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, complementing the expansive, mirror-polished desk that's framed by a window behind. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves brimming with legal tomes and personal mementos flank one wall, while large windows on the opposite side offer a view of the New England town, bathing the room in natural light. The space is thoughtfully arranged, with a comfortable seating area for clients by the bookshelves and a small conference table near the western window.
It is night, about 34F(1C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey stormclouds. Ankle high mist flows through the area. There is a waning crescent moon.
(A group of teenagers in Haven start dabbling in dark magic, accidentally summoning a minor demon. Your target and their allies must exorcise the demon and clean up the magical mess left behind.)
"Temple, right? Not Order like the others, but still part of the group that's fighting you?" Lilah asks, clearly having pieced together some things over the past week or so. Perhaps what she's not caught on to is that they're fighting Solomon's mentor-spirit-thing, rather than him exactly. But she watches Solomon, her expression worried. Fingers knit in her lap, anxiety replacing the other twisted expressions of displeasure and desire as she says, "I did promise Alex I'd keep him out of... you know. Stuff? And Vik's my friend. But... if they're after you - what do you need me to do?"
"He told Tomas that he's not serious about the Temple -- that he's using it," Solomon says. "Just leeching its resources to attack those I represent." There's frustration, heated in his eyes. "In the end," he says. "I'm going to need to track him down, I suppose. It's a kind of direct conflict I find... boring."
A quiet conversation for a quiet night. The largely muted sounds of passing cars can be heard every now and then, as well as the passing-by of trailer park folk on their way back home after a night of drinking. An early night, it seems. The topic of the chit-chat between Lilah and Solomon may have to wait, as a sensation washes over the pair. A prickling sort of feeling.
As if another consciousness has just reached out to touch at their minds, though it may be more accurate to describe it more like a rock being dropped into the pool of the collective unconscious, and the ripples of said intrusion spreading out across this part of the town.
That sort of sensation shouldn't be too unfamiliar to Solomon, he does serve one such being himself.
"Tomas. Your cousin. Yasmin's boyfriend," Lilah says, then nods again. She almost looks ready to pull out her tablet to take notes, but manages to refrain herself from that. Wetting her lips with a little flick of her tongue, she watches Solomon a few moments longer, then says softly, "It's shockingly unbalanced. You're so strong and he's-..." her words trail off, and a small shiver runs through her. But nothing's said at first. She just looks to Solomon.
There's a tilt of Solomon's head, and then a frown. "There is a mind out there," he tells Lilah. "This is some moment to --" He pauses. "Open your mind," he tells the girl, even as he unfocuses his eyes a little. He lets his senses float, just a little -- projecting his mind is something he knows well.
Lilah, on the other hand doesn't know much about such things at all. But she tries, drawing in a breath and trying to pull her full, focused attention off of Solomon. There's another shudder; what he finds so easy and normal is a little unpleasant for her, it would seem. But she tries.
The subject of the mundane man falls to the wayside as those ripples pass through the pair, and the southern parts of Haven. It isn't hard for either of them to focus upon it, attune to it in a way. It's unpracticed, unskilled. Like a newborn. Or something attempting to be born, perhaps.
It's an eidolon, another, awakening - or at least, it is the beginnings of one. It's clumsy, like a child, and there's a pull upon the consciousness of those who open themselves to it, as if it were a baby bird, begging for food, for sustanance.
As mist rises, Solomon frowns, turning towards Lilah. "Something is trying to awaken," he tells. "It's trying to awaken -- a little nugget of conscious," he tells her. "And it is an -opportunity-." He pauses, and then he begins to open the secret door to lead to his ritual chamber downstairs, intent on heading down to begin some magic.
"Here is the plan," Solomon tells Lilah. "With a binding circle, we can summon the thing to us," he says. "And then we feed it to those we serve."
'We' might not be correct in the literal sense of the term, and Lilah opens her mouth to say as much, before she just shuts it again. Solomon is her teacher, so perhaps in the most technical sense, we works. Or maybe she just doesn't want to incite anger while she's already injured. Either way, she nods and, with a flicker of excitement over learning something new, she turns to follow him downstairs. "Is it alive?" she asks, seriously. "Like... consciousness? A ghost sort of thing?"
It, which is to say the eidolon, is doing it's damnest to push through into this reality, the humming ball of potential that it represents continuing to send ripples and spikes across the layer of nightmarish reality atop our own. There's a sense that it's growing, feeding, siphoning lift from those foolish enough to have tried to bring it forth. Much like a young snake, it doesn't have the control required to take just enough. It wants more.
Downstairs, Solomon begins to fix the binding circle in the ground. "Alive is a strange word, isn't it?" he says to Lilah. "Set out candles," he tells her. "A binding circle can trap an eidolon," he explains. "Now, if it already had worshippers? It could possess one of them as a means to escape the circle, using their consciousness as a road to escape. This one, though..." His eyes unfocus. "This one is young, so once we lure it into the circle perhaps Legion will be able to feast upon it." A pause. "Thirteen candles, and then light them," he says as he finishes scribing occult sigils.
"Of course," he tells her. "We will need bait."
Lilah nods to Solomon, and though she's a little stiffer than usual in her movements, she begins to lay out the candles around the perimeter of the circle that Solomon marks out. Once the thirteenth is in place, she pauses to ask, "Is thirteen actually powerful, or is that more of what you said before? The way people envision things and what they belive gives it power?" She looks at her hands, then smiles as she brings her soft little flames to light on her fingertips, and begins touching the wicks, one after the other. It's not until the last of Solomon's words settles on her that she tenses again, and slowly looks back at him. "What kind of bait, Mr. Inigo?"
"A green-eyed, red-headed girl," Solomon says with terrible humor on that goateed face. "Your mind is some perfect thing for this creature to seek out." He steps up by the altar as she lights the candles, telling her, "Thirteen is as auspicious number. Belief has power, you see: belief is something that creates magic. So when we reinforce it we strengthen what we do."
The collective unconscious is a powerful thing, and it seems, based on what Lilah has just suggested that Solomon is well aware of this. The rule of threes, thirteen, seven. All of these small rituals and beliefs have been imbued with their own little power of sorts, unconsciously so.
The pulses and fits of the birthing eidolon can still be felt here, down in the dark of the ritual room. Even by the bait, which is to say, the red-headed, green-eyed girl.
Solomon orders Lilah "Step into the center of the circle."
Lilah sighs. Her lashes flutter, her body trembles, but she lifts her chin and looks at Solomon. There's silence for a moment, though that green-eyed gaze of hers is challenging, to say the least. But when she does speak, it's only to say, "Like your own image," and nods, as if she was expecting this, and adds with a touch of giggle despite the stress he's just sunk upon her, "And my phone number." Again, at his demand, her chin lifts and she looks downright ready to refuse.
But she doesn't. She steps across that line, between the twelfth and thirteenth candles, carefully.
Once Lilah is inside the circle, Solomon begins to chant in earnest -- letting the magical power that fills this place sanctified to an eidolon give him the power to summon in turn this natal thing. His words slip in and out of English, as he declaims, "I see you, newborn thing -- and I come to you with honesty." How his red eyes are the face of lies. "I summon you to me, to feel my worship and enjoy my sacrifice. Enjoy this offering -- she is sweet, and virginal." Sure. "She is full of power: it is for you, that you may in turn enrich me."
Hey now! She's not -that- far from virginal in her sexy little minidress and stiletto-heeled boots. Is she? But Lilah isn't really in the mood to toy with words, while she stands there as Solomon chants over her, around her. So she doesn't protest, and most assuredly doesn't interrupt that stream of alluring lies.
There's no furtiveness, no wariness in the consciousness of this near-born eidolon, just a simple, sightless hunger. It sprawls across the gap between them, though not steadily so. The thing creeps like spilled ink, sliding and slipping, unused to this, unused to anything. The sweet whispers that escape the liar's lips are one of the most beautiful things it's heard, one of the only things it's heard, and it wanders into the trap like a blind, dumb creature.
It's presence bleeds into the room, oozing and waking, and soon enough Lilah may feel the nudging warmth of it's near-life across her, as if it is attemtpting to attune to her unique signiture amidst the strings and vibrations of reality.
"I did not like the way your Legion made me feel, when it was inside me," Lilah tells Solomon, very seriously. If it's a bit too sensual, a bit sexualized? It's probably just the stress and strain of having this thing poking at her. "Please don't let this one do that." She stands still though, for now at least, and though she shivers she doesn't make a run for the door. Her chin stays high. She clearly has something to prove.
And that's the trap, isn't it? The would-be-eidolon can enter, but it cannot leave: the binding circle is the Hotel California, and Solomon its devilish innkeeper. Lilah, of course -- well. She's subject now to the oozing, sliminess of the thing, because she is inside the walls, but outside? Outside the ancient sorcerer's chant changes. Now he turns to look back at the goat figure above the altar in this underground place, and his summoning ritual is much more direct -- much more personal. "Samael, Lord of Fire," he says. "Lilith, Queen of Demons. All of thee I serve: I have an offering for you." His mind is a well-trod highway to Legion, and he summons it -- summons it with the offering of the thing trying to eat Lilah.
Having been threatened now three times in one week with being devoured, Lilah stands with her jaw set, her fists clenched, and an intent and mildly defiant stare focused on Solomon. His lack of answer, and the feel of that thing probing at her own essence is enough to see flames slide over her hands once more. It's a cool party trick, but hardly a strong form of self-defense.
The thing, for it has yet not name, does what all things born of hunger, and flame, and want do. It feeds. There's no artistry to this, no sly tricks or subtleness at all. It simply burrows itself within Lilah, into the core of her, curling up within her breast, behind her ribs. There's a slow ache that builds into something more, as it begins to sup upon her very lifeforce, drawing her into itself like water spiralling down a drain.
The trap is sprung, the eidolon-thing captured, but it doesn't know. It simply hums within the woman, blissfully unaware of it's own danger as it tries to steal everything she is, and everything she may yet be.
Already weakened, and far too keenly aware of just how it feels, Lilah tenses even more and protests in a shrill, anxious tone to Solomon, "Make it stop. I... -you- need me healthy too!" Well, whether he truly does or not, her belief in that is adamant, but perhaps she thinks he doesn't realize what's going on for she continues to protest. "Mr. Inigo. Make it -stop!-"
Then there is the sudden smell of brimstone -- the sense of presence -- as black mist like smoke climbs up the walls. It seems to issue from the mouth of the goat statute, and then it, too, is boiling towards the ritual circle. It enters it -- the circle stops eidolons from leaving, not from entering -- a roiling mass of shadow that closes on Lilah and the thing inside her. She can feel the sudden, familiar heated chill of Legion possessing her, but it is not she the eidolon seeks at all.
No: the real pray is inside her, as a powerful eidolon at the height of its influence begins to consume that natal intelligence it has lured into its domain.
Outside the circle, Solomon begins to laugh -- it's a terrible thing, full of awful, suffering joy, as he watches Lilah writhe in the center of the circle, her body now the battleground between two alien intelligences. "It will be done soon," he tells her, compliments her. "You are doing very well."
Did she sign up for this? It doesn't look like me wants to believe that, as not one, but two, of these beings slides into her. As they take over, and her already battered body is played with between them, all she can do is scream. But it's as much anger as misery. For all that stiff upper lip and 'I'm fine' she's been putting out of late? What's coming out of Lilah, as her body's drained and tormented yet again, is absolute fury.
Want. Hunger. These were the first things this thing had left. Want, in fact, were it to have supped, and grown, may've been it's name, in time. When it grew to the point where it was conscious enough to require such a thing. It's third lesson is a harsher one.
Fear.
The alien concept in the alien creature causes it to writhe, and lash out, it screams within someone, and steals her own voice to do as much. There's no words, there's only babbling as it slides and flees throughout her. There is no part of her wholeness that it does not try to hide and cower in, even as the more experienced, dangerous eidolon breaks it apart, piece by piece. It takes flight through her memories, her hopes, her fears. Her dreams. Everything, and anything that it can scramble into - until finally, it's broken, torn apart, and Lilah feels it's death within her chest. A pain that lingers for some time, like a psychic scar upon her.
Want. Hunger. These were the first things this thing had left. Want, in fact, were it to have supped, and grown, may've been it's name, in time. When it grew to the point where it was conscious enough to require such a thing. It's third lesson is a harsher one.
Fear.
The alien concept in the alien creature causes it to writhe, and lash out, it screams within Lilah, and steals her own voice to do as much. There's no words, there's only babbling as it slides and flees throughout her. There is no part of her wholeness that it does not try to hide and cower in, even as the more experienced, dangerous eidolon breaks it apart, piece by piece. It takes flight through her memories, her hopes, her fears. Her dreams. Everything, and anything that it can scramble into - until finally, it's broken, torn apart, and Lilah feels it's death within her chest. A pain that lingers for some time, like a psychic scar upon her.
When the writhing is done, Solomon steps forward, and with a toe he breaks the binding circle to free the entity he serves. Then he's stepping forward, to Lilah -- to take her and hold her. "There," he tells her. Is his voice gentle? Only as much as is needed to calm the wounded girl. "There there," he tells her. "You did very well."
Energized, the mist is receding now -- full of sin and power as the whispering dark winds in the room withdraw, having consumed a little more in some sacrifice to Legion.
In that moment, calm isn't in her. Now, on top of being terrified, mauled, and whatever else she's not told anyone about, Lilah has felt something -die- inside of her. When Solomon picks her up, she curls in against him, and just lets it go. She'll be strong again tomorrow, but tonight? She's trembling, sobbing, and clinging to this vicious, violent, monster of a man like he'll help her. Protect her from anything else traumatic that might come her way.
They're alone now. The pair. Down here in the room of rituals and sacrifice.
Lilah is embraced by the man, but is she safe? Is anyone ever truly safe in this town?
Perhaps not.
OOC: Thanks for playing, please let me know if you'd like a summon.
The chilling ritual begins in the sanctity of Solomon's ritual chamber, with Lilah, the unwitting bait, ensnared within a magical circle, her fears escalating as the eidolon attempts to merge with her. As the nightmarish entity begins to drain her life essence, Solomon's true intentions unfold—he summons the formidable presence of Legion, aiming to offer the eidolon to it. Caught in a terrifying maelstrom of power, Lilah endures the dual invasion of her being by both entities, her screams mirroring her internal horror. In a harrowing climax, the inexperienced eidolon is torn asunder by Legion, leaving Lilah physically and emotionally ravaged. Solomon's comforting embrace offers little solace, leaving a haunting question of safety and trust lingering in the air.
(Lilah's odd encounter(SRSimon):SRSimon)
[Wed Mar 6 2024]
In the inner office of Inigo & Wilson PC
This was once a grand sitting room, now converted with equal grandeur to the office of one of the partners in the firm. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, complementing the expansive, mirror-polished desk that's framed by a window behind. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves brimming with legal tomes and personal mementos flank one wall, while large windows on the opposite side offer a view of the New England town, bathing the room in natural light. The space is thoughtfully arranged, with a comfortable seating area for clients by the bookshelves and a small conference table near the western window.
It is night, about 34F(1C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey stormclouds. Ankle high mist flows through the area. There is a waning crescent moon.
(A group of teenagers in Haven start dabbling in dark magic, accidentally summoning a minor demon. Your target and their allies must exorcise the demon and clean up the magical mess left behind.)
"Temple, right? Not Order like the others, but still part of the group that's fighting you?" Lilah asks, clearly having pieced together some things over the past week or so. Perhaps what she's not caught on to is that they're fighting Solomon's mentor-spirit-thing, rather than him exactly. But she watches Solomon, her expression worried. Fingers knit in her lap, anxiety replacing the other twisted expressions of displeasure and desire as she says, "I did promise Alex I'd keep him out of... you know. Stuff? And Vik's my friend. But... if they're after you - what do you need me to do?"
"He told Tomas that he's not serious about the Temple -- that he's using it," Solomon says. "Just leeching its resources to attack those I represent." There's frustration, heated in his eyes. "In the end," he says. "I'm going to need to track him down, I suppose. It's a kind of direct conflict I find... boring."
A quiet conversation for a quiet night. The largely muted sounds of passing cars can be heard every now and then, as well as the passing-by of trailer park folk on their way back home after a night of drinking. An early night, it seems. The topic of the chit-chat between Lilah and Solomon may have to wait, as a sensation washes over the pair. A prickling sort of feeling.
As if another consciousness has just reached out to touch at their minds, though it may be more accurate to describe it more like a rock being dropped into the pool of the collective unconscious, and the ripples of said intrusion spreading out across this part of the town.
That sort of sensation shouldn't be too unfamiliar to Solomon, he does serve one such being himself.
"Tomas. Your cousin. Yasmin's boyfriend," Lilah says, then nods again. She almost looks ready to pull out her tablet to take notes, but manages to refrain herself from that. Wetting her lips with a little flick of her tongue, she watches Solomon a few moments longer, then says softly, "It's shockingly unbalanced. You're so strong and he's-..." her words trail off, and a small shiver runs through her. But nothing's said at first. She just looks to Solomon.
There's a tilt of Solomon's head, and then a frown. "There is a mind out there," he tells Lilah. "This is some moment to --" He pauses. "Open your mind," he tells the girl, even as he unfocuses his eyes a little. He lets his senses float, just a little -- projecting his mind is something he knows well.
Lilah, on the other hand doesn't know much about such things at all. But she tries, drawing in a breath and trying to pull her full, focused attention off of Solomon. There's another shudder; what he finds so easy and normal is a little unpleasant for her, it would seem. But she tries.
The subject of the mundane man falls to the wayside as those ripples pass through the pair, and the southern parts of Haven. It isn't hard for either of them to focus upon it, attune to it in a way. It's unpracticed, unskilled. Like a newborn. Or something attempting to be born, perhaps.
It's an eidolon, another, awakening - or at least, it is the beginnings of one. It's clumsy, like a child, and there's a pull upon the consciousness of those who open themselves to it, as if it were a baby bird, begging for food, for sustanance.
As mist rises, Solomon frowns, turning towards Lilah. "Something is trying to awaken," he tells. "It's trying to awaken -- a little nugget of conscious," he tells her. "And it is an -opportunity-." He pauses, and then he begins to open the secret door to lead to his ritual chamber downstairs, intent on heading down to begin some magic.
"Here is the plan," Solomon tells Lilah. "With a binding circle, we can summon the thing to us," he says. "And then we feed it to those we serve."
'We' might not be correct in the literal sense of the term, and Lilah opens her mouth to say as much, before she just shuts it again. Solomon is her teacher, so perhaps in the most technical sense, we works. Or maybe she just doesn't want to incite anger while she's already injured. Either way, she nods and, with a flicker of excitement over learning something new, she turns to follow him downstairs. "Is it alive?" she asks, seriously. "Like... consciousness? A ghost sort of thing?"
It, which is to say the eidolon, is doing it's damnest to push through into this reality, the humming ball of potential that it represents continuing to send ripples and spikes across the layer of nightmarish reality atop our own. There's a sense that it's growing, feeding, siphoning lift from those foolish enough to have tried to bring it forth. Much like a young snake, it doesn't have the control required to take just enough. It wants more.
Downstairs, Solomon begins to fix the binding circle in the ground. "Alive is a strange word, isn't it?" he says to Lilah. "Set out candles," he tells her. "A binding circle can trap an eidolon," he explains. "Now, if it already had worshippers? It could possess one of them as a means to escape the circle, using their consciousness as a road to escape. This one, though..." His eyes unfocus. "This one is young, so once we lure it into the circle perhaps Legion will be able to feast upon it." A pause. "Thirteen candles, and then light them," he says as he finishes scribing occult sigils.
"Of course," he tells her. "We will need bait."
Lilah nods to Solomon, and though she's a little stiffer than usual in her movements, she begins to lay out the candles around the perimeter of the circle that Solomon marks out. Once the thirteenth is in place, she pauses to ask, "Is thirteen actually powerful, or is that more of what you said before? The way people envision things and what they belive gives it power?" She looks at her hands, then smiles as she brings her soft little flames to light on her fingertips, and begins touching the wicks, one after the other. It's not until the last of Solomon's words settles on her that she tenses again, and slowly looks back at him. "What kind of bait, Mr. Inigo?"
"A green-eyed, red-headed girl," Solomon says with terrible humor on that goateed face. "Your mind is some perfect thing for this creature to seek out." He steps up by the altar as she lights the candles, telling her, "Thirteen is as auspicious number. Belief has power, you see: belief is something that creates magic. So when we reinforce it we strengthen what we do."
The collective unconscious is a powerful thing, and it seems, based on what Lilah has just suggested that Solomon is well aware of this. The rule of threes, thirteen, seven. All of these small rituals and beliefs have been imbued with their own little power of sorts, unconsciously so.
The pulses and fits of the birthing eidolon can still be felt here, down in the dark of the ritual room. Even by the bait, which is to say, the red-headed, green-eyed girl.
Solomon orders Lilah "Step into the center of the circle."
Lilah sighs. Her lashes flutter, her body trembles, but she lifts her chin and looks at Solomon. There's silence for a moment, though that green-eyed gaze of hers is challenging, to say the least. But when she does speak, it's only to say, "Like your own image," and nods, as if she was expecting this, and adds with a touch of giggle despite the stress he's just sunk upon her, "And my phone number." Again, at his demand, her chin lifts and she looks downright ready to refuse.
But she doesn't. She steps across that line, between the twelfth and thirteenth candles, carefully.
Once Lilah is inside the circle, Solomon begins to chant in earnest -- letting the magical power that fills this place sanctified to an eidolon give him the power to summon in turn this natal thing. His words slip in and out of English, as he declaims, "I see you, newborn thing -- and I come to you with honesty." How his red eyes are the face of lies. "I summon you to me, to feel my worship and enjoy my sacrifice. Enjoy this offering -- she is sweet, and virginal." Sure. "She is full of power: it is for you, that you may in turn enrich me."
Hey now! She's not -that- far from virginal in her sexy little minidress and stiletto-heeled boots. Is she? But Lilah isn't really in the mood to toy with words, while she stands there as Solomon chants over her, around her. So she doesn't protest, and most assuredly doesn't interrupt that stream of alluring lies.
There's no furtiveness, no wariness in the consciousness of this near-born eidolon, just a simple, sightless hunger. It sprawls across the gap between them, though not steadily so. The thing creeps like spilled ink, sliding and slipping, unused to this, unused to anything. The sweet whispers that escape the liar's lips are one of the most beautiful things it's heard, one of the only things it's heard, and it wanders into the trap like a blind, dumb creature.
It's presence bleeds into the room, oozing and waking, and soon enough Lilah may feel the nudging warmth of it's near-life across her, as if it is attemtpting to attune to her unique signiture amidst the strings and vibrations of reality.
"I did not like the way your Legion made me feel, when it was inside me," Lilah tells Solomon, very seriously. If it's a bit too sensual, a bit sexualized? It's probably just the stress and strain of having this thing poking at her. "Please don't let this one do that." She stands still though, for now at least, and though she shivers she doesn't make a run for the door. Her chin stays high. She clearly has something to prove.
And that's the trap, isn't it? The would-be-eidolon can enter, but it cannot leave: the binding circle is the Hotel California, and Solomon its devilish innkeeper. Lilah, of course -- well. She's subject now to the oozing, sliminess of the thing, because she is inside the walls, but outside? Outside the ancient sorcerer's chant changes. Now he turns to look back at the goat figure above the altar in this underground place, and his summoning ritual is much more direct -- much more personal. "Samael, Lord of Fire," he says. "Lilith, Queen of Demons. All of thee I serve: I have an offering for you." His mind is a well-trod highway to Legion, and he summons it -- summons it with the offering of the thing trying to eat Lilah.
Having been threatened now three times in one week with being devoured, Lilah stands with her jaw set, her fists clenched, and an intent and mildly defiant stare focused on Solomon. His lack of answer, and the feel of that thing probing at her own essence is enough to see flames slide over her hands once more. It's a cool party trick, but hardly a strong form of self-defense.
The thing, for it has yet not name, does what all things born of hunger, and flame, and want do. It feeds. There's no artistry to this, no sly tricks or subtleness at all. It simply burrows itself within Lilah, into the core of her, curling up within her breast, behind her ribs. There's a slow ache that builds into something more, as it begins to sup upon her very lifeforce, drawing her into itself like water spiralling down a drain.
The trap is sprung, the eidolon-thing captured, but it doesn't know. It simply hums within the woman, blissfully unaware of it's own danger as it tries to steal everything she is, and everything she may yet be.
Already weakened, and far too keenly aware of just how it feels, Lilah tenses even more and protests in a shrill, anxious tone to Solomon, "Make it stop. I... -you- need me healthy too!" Well, whether he truly does or not, her belief in that is adamant, but perhaps she thinks he doesn't realize what's going on for she continues to protest. "Mr. Inigo. Make it -stop!-"
Then there is the sudden smell of brimstone -- the sense of presence -- as black mist like smoke climbs up the walls. It seems to issue from the mouth of the goat statute, and then it, too, is boiling towards the ritual circle. It enters it -- the circle stops eidolons from leaving, not from entering -- a roiling mass of shadow that closes on Lilah and the thing inside her. She can feel the sudden, familiar heated chill of Legion possessing her, but it is not she the eidolon seeks at all.
No: the real pray is inside her, as a powerful eidolon at the height of its influence begins to consume that natal intelligence it has lured into its domain.
Outside the circle, Solomon begins to laugh -- it's a terrible thing, full of awful, suffering joy, as he watches Lilah writhe in the center of the circle, her body now the battleground between two alien intelligences. "It will be done soon," he tells her, compliments her. "You are doing very well."
Did she sign up for this? It doesn't look like me wants to believe that, as not one, but two, of these beings slides into her. As they take over, and her already battered body is played with between them, all she can do is scream. But it's as much anger as misery. For all that stiff upper lip and 'I'm fine' she's been putting out of late? What's coming out of Lilah, as her body's drained and tormented yet again, is absolute fury.
Want. Hunger. These were the first things this thing had left. Want, in fact, were it to have supped, and grown, may've been it's name, in time. When it grew to the point where it was conscious enough to require such a thing. It's third lesson is a harsher one.
Fear.
The alien concept in the alien creature causes it to writhe, and lash out, it screams within someone, and steals her own voice to do as much. There's no words, there's only babbling as it slides and flees throughout her. There is no part of her wholeness that it does not try to hide and cower in, even as the more experienced, dangerous eidolon breaks it apart, piece by piece. It takes flight through her memories, her hopes, her fears. Her dreams. Everything, and anything that it can scramble into - until finally, it's broken, torn apart, and Lilah feels it's death within her chest. A pain that lingers for some time, like a psychic scar upon her.
Want. Hunger. These were the first things this thing had left. Want, in fact, were it to have supped, and grown, may've been it's name, in time. When it grew to the point where it was conscious enough to require such a thing. It's third lesson is a harsher one.
Fear.
The alien concept in the alien creature causes it to writhe, and lash out, it screams within Lilah, and steals her own voice to do as much. There's no words, there's only babbling as it slides and flees throughout her. There is no part of her wholeness that it does not try to hide and cower in, even as the more experienced, dangerous eidolon breaks it apart, piece by piece. It takes flight through her memories, her hopes, her fears. Her dreams. Everything, and anything that it can scramble into - until finally, it's broken, torn apart, and Lilah feels it's death within her chest. A pain that lingers for some time, like a psychic scar upon her.
When the writhing is done, Solomon steps forward, and with a toe he breaks the binding circle to free the entity he serves. Then he's stepping forward, to Lilah -- to take her and hold her. "There," he tells her. Is his voice gentle? Only as much as is needed to calm the wounded girl. "There there," he tells her. "You did very well."
Energized, the mist is receding now -- full of sin and power as the whispering dark winds in the room withdraw, having consumed a little more in some sacrifice to Legion.
In that moment, calm isn't in her. Now, on top of being terrified, mauled, and whatever else she's not told anyone about, Lilah has felt something -die- inside of her. When Solomon picks her up, she curls in against him, and just lets it go. She'll be strong again tomorrow, but tonight? She's trembling, sobbing, and clinging to this vicious, violent, monster of a man like he'll help her. Protect her from anything else traumatic that might come her way.
They're alone now. The pair. Down here in the room of rituals and sacrifice.
Lilah is embraced by the man, but is she safe? Is anyone ever truly safe in this town?
Perhaps not.
OOC: Thanks for playing, please let me know if you'd like a summon.