Xaviers!

Sam settles into the adjacent room and closes the door behind her.

Then she turns out the lights, aiming to see if sensory deprivation will help her a bit as she sits down cross-legged in the center of the room.

Will slipped in the door, and stood behind Sam, in the darkness, in silence.

Without the Wolves here, someone had to make sure she wasn't, I dunno, jumped by boggards.

"This might not be pretty, Will. If I can't get myself centered enough on my own, I might have to try to reach her."

"I may no longer be a Goddess' champion, but if you think for a minute I'm going to let you face this alone..."

"This is what I threatened you with. All the little lights."

"You can't threaten me with a good time," Will said.

In the dark, it was difficult to tell if he was joking or not.

"Suppose our lives were never going to be boring."

"I mean, you could always try to deny your connection to an ancient Pagan force. Walk away and buy a bookstore and wear sweaters and horn-rimmed glasses.

But in the end, I suppose we are what we are, no matter what other people think."

"...aye."

"And if there's even a chance I can get everyone back in fighting shape, I've got to take it."

"And, despite everything, I'll stand watch."

"Down I go then," she sighs, closing her eyes and re-centering herself as she tries to find her way blind around the faint twinkle of people's souls.

Easy, right?

Since Will is right there and familiar to her by now, she aims to use him as her lodestar.

It's hard to even really figure out where to start without her telepathy to provide her with something to latch on to. Will's presence is, well, she can sense it. Or maybe it's just the feeling of being watched and generally knowing he's there rather than any extra-sensory ability. How the hell did Cailleach do this? Maybe the way the respective power-suppression are too different? Everything's just... quiet and empty around her. Cut off. Adrift. Then something occurs to her. Will's spark would blotted out as well. Rather than look for a flame in the dark there'd be an absence. A feeling of having been severed. An empty pit just going on and on and on and on into the darkness, deeper into a sea that's as vast as it is empty.

And then an enormous presence moves in the darkness. Previously they'd met here as equals but now she's a tiny minnow next to the leviathan stretching before her.

They can barely hear the voice whisper in the dark room.

"Who clipped your wings, little crow?"

"Someone who's about to regret that decision," she says, trying her best to stand tall and look the presence in the 'eye.'

Or eyes.

So many eyes.

"Let me enjoy the irony or I'll swallow you whole."

Strange to combine what amounts to pouting with a threat but then Cailleach is more than a little weird.

"I don't need your leftovers. Make me a better offer for my help and maybe I'll consider it."

Tosh peeked in the doorway. He hated to risk Sam's concentration, but he was getting worried about Natalie and needed to know something.

"Psst! Will! Do you at least know the access code to the lighthouse sub-basement?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Toshiro Narumi wrote:Tosh peeked in the doorway. He hated to risk Sam's concentration, but he was getting worried about Natalie and needed to know something.

"Psst! Will! Do you at least know the access code to the lighthouse sub-basement?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Will put a finger in front of his mouth and shook his head.

He sighed and lleft.

"Yes, the Tool of Creation. I've met him. He was quite unhappy with me as well as you last time we talked."

This time Will can hear her as well as a quiet voice whispering in the dark.

Will, somewhat uncomfortably, shifted his weight from one foot to another, continuing to stare more or less straight ahead.

He did clutch the screwdriver a little tighter.

"You don't need him to trust me." Cailleach laughs.

"You need to find what brings you closer to them and lets you explore them without your telepathy. I suspect you already know the most effective way I've found." she says, smacking her lips.

"But in the pit you left me to rot in all I had was paper and crayons and I drew them, modeled them from memory."

"I know what I need, then."

"I'll be right back," she says to Will, getting up and hurrying out.

Will nodded, and stood there, awkwardly, not trying to make eye contact with the demon from the deep.

It's a short bit later that Sam returns, hefting about ten pounds of... what looks like clay?

She sets it down with a wet plop on the floor between her and Will.

"I'm not intimately guiding your hands. That's just weird." says the woman who literally merged her body with Sam's before.

"I don't need you to," she mutters as she starts shaping a depression in the lump of clay.

"Making an ash tray or something?" Will said, eyeing Sam molding the clay carefully.