Xaviers!

Will had spent about a day making sure the Point was both a) intact and b) the same as it was before. Sure, the science people had assured him it had been as such, but what did science really know?

In this case, it seemed to know quite a bit. Will had never been an adept student of The Mystic Arts as Taught By A Crazy Cat Lady -- or indeed, anything close to one, for that matter -- but from everything he could see with his Muggle eyes, everything seemed to be more or less in order. Which was good! If his Morrigan was ever going to find him, this would probably be important; and not something he could easily rig up a replacement for.

That being said, there were still a few things he needed to do...


And that's why she was up in the old lantern room of the lighthouse, the very top. This is where...well, quite a lot had happened, and she associated it with important rites for that reason. From what she'd been told, this space had been used for important rites since before there was a lighthouse built, and that's something she could understand, even if she couldn't feel any mystic...juju or whathaveyou. Places were important. Procedures were important. And even if she had had to learn them by rote, learn them she had.

And that's why she was up there. Her hair, longer than usual, cascaded in a ponytail to about her mid-back. She was wearing a long green dress, floor-length, with dark red sleeves. From somewhere -- being a shifter, the "somewhere" was perhaps more obvious than others -- she had rustled up a ruby to go into a golden necklace, and on her forehead, wore a circlet with three more stones in an inverted triangle.

She had made a small fire, from some yew branches, and was tending it. She thought, at least, that she had disabled all of ASHLIE's smoke detectors and the like, but goodness knows, the robot was paranoid, and there was every chance she had missed some.

The first time she had done this, she had gone though book after book, looking up and researching things. It turns out that the idea of contacting Celtic goddesses led to quite the wide range of goofy ideas over the years, as had the advent of neopaganism, especially in the '60s. All kinds of nonsense with candles and drums and energies and dancing and chanting and circles and ale. Well, maybe the ale wasn't that bad of an idea, but the XUB was down there, and she could always walk down and grab a pint when things were all over. Plus, she could get a nice light blue drink with an umbrella instead of the ale. That's better, and any Goddess who would deny her that is no goddess of hers.

The chanting and the circles, the swords and stones and spears, all of that was well and good. If it made people feel more empowered, more power to them, as it were. Will believed, though, that it was more important to perform a ceremony based on what's in your own heart, and for Will, that had always been food. She couldn't really put her finger on why that was, but, thematically, it always seemed to fit.

Now, in the olden days, this would be a blood sacrifice. Someone would go out into the fields and go kill a boar or something, and drag it back; a proper offering. The brown paper parcel with a couple nice juicy strip steaks in it...didn't really count. But, if the Morrigan didn't come -- and she didn't, always -- then hey, free steaks! That's what we call a win-win situation.

Still, it wasn't quite enough. As she placed the steaks into the fire, she also pulled out a small silver dagger, and made a quick, sharp cut across her palm. A bit of her blood fell onto the steaks into the fire -- and it was blood this time, not one of the many comical substitutes she would use when messing with people. No melted butter or strawberry jam here; sometimes, the traditional ways were best.

The smell of cooking meat began to fill the room as Will sat, cross-legged, in front of the fire. "I come into the dark, and I call for the great queen" she said, slowly and softly.


Sometimes nothing happened. And there was no guarantee anything would work in this wrong dimension. But sometimes just sitting and contemplating helped in and of itself.

((open))

Sam couldn't quite put her finger on why she was up tonight. Or why she felt the need to walk over to the Point. Truth told, it had taken a bit for her to gather the presence of mind to get dressed rather than walk over in her nightgown.

As she rounds the stairs into the top of the lighthouse, she blinks in confusion.

"...what is this?"

Will looked up, a little surprised. "Sam! Welcome. I didn't mean to disturb, well, you."

"I just... felt like I needed to be here."

"This looks... elaborate," she muses, looking from the fire to how Will is dressed.

"More...ritualistic, I suppose," she said, standing up. "There are some things you just pop over and ask, like if you need a cup of sugar. Some things, though, you dress up a little more fancily. Same point as, like, thank you cards or something. There are times when the form is as important as the message."

"Not a bad look on you, if a little... breezy."

"I designed it myself," she said, giving a little twirl for the full effect. "I'll admit, I'm not much of a clotheshorse, but I muddle through somehow."

"So I wasn't the intended audience for this? I can leave, if I'm interrupting."

"Well, you were and you weren't, if you know what I mean. If you're enjoying the...sensations, I suppose...you're welcome to stay."

"It's... not the first time something has just... pulled my attention somewhere."

"The woman in the woods?"

She nods slowly.

"And... sometimes when I'm in the tank."

"The tank, from what I understand, amplifies your abilities, and your range. I'd expect most of what you sense there to be...unintentional? As opposed to this. Or the woman in the woods.

What do you sense in the tank?"

"In the tank it's like... there are things that I just have to witness. That I can't look away from. Sometimes it feels like there are people who... need me somehow."

"Do you? Ever stop to witness, I mean."

"I was... tempted to when I was looking for you. That was one of the times it got a little weird in the tank. It's hard to focus."

"Maybe you should try it, from time to time. I imagine most of the time you've used the tank is in an emergency, like when you were looking for Tereza.

People do often need things. A sense of clarity, a sense of purpose. Some people don't even know they need it."

"It just seems... awfully presumptuous. I mean, who am I to them?"

"Who are you to them? Or who are they to you?

Samantha McManus isn't anyone to them. A well-meaning stranger, perhaps, and that's enough for some. But that's not what they're calling out for, I think."

"Well I mean... just to butt in like that, aye?"

"There are some who might not appreciate it, or not realize they need it.

From what I'm told, there are others who might object to you butting in at all, as well."

She shrugged. "And there are some you need to bash over the head repeatedly until they see what's in front of them. Dim-witted people with great hair."

"That seems... extremely specific."

"I have extremely specific experience," she smiled. "I've only seen Her from the outside; I'm pretty sure that's as far up the chain as I can go."

"Aye, but it leaves me wondering whose hair you're jealous of," she smirks.

"Oh, no, I was referring to me," Will smiled. "The green isn't envy, it just brings out my eyes."

"Had to narrow it down. Some good hair going about in this lot."

"It's as fabulous as you want it to be, aye?"

"Benefits of being a shifter. I'm told it would take quite some time to let it grow out this long," she said, swooshing her ponytail over her shoulder. "I admit, it's no full-bodied fur, but it works for me."

She winces.

"Well you know, the fur's more of a... sometimes thing."

"Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, just noting a trend," Will said, mildly. "My apologies."

"I guess I just surprised myself, is all. Hard to know what you like until you're presented with it."

"Everyone needs to be bashed over the head repeatedly at times," she smiled, sitting back down in front of the fire and poking it.

"So what were you... aiming to do, here?" She says, shivering a bit as Will prods the fire.

"When I'm troubled, I come up here to reflect. It's not entirely unlike confessional, except you can't always be certain someone's on the other end," she said, stoking the flames.

"You don't summon the Morrigan like...like some sort of minor godling. You ask, and sometimes, you're blessed with a response."

"Sometimes, no one shows up, but just the act of sitting here in contemplation is enough. Sometimes, you get the Three-in-One; sometimes you get all three aspects. Sometimes, you just get Badb, Nemain or Macha, which is usually... I mean, I appreciate their perspectives," she grinned, sheepishly.

"I've never gotten just plain Sam before, though the lines are admittedly blurry and hard for us mere mortals to understand."

The emphasis on "mere mortals" implied an in-joke with a party who wasn't present.

"I guess I could have just ignored it but it was like... an itch, almost."

"And you wanted to scratch it and see where it led you?"

"...aye."

"Should probably be more careful about it. You're not the only one who has the knack of it."

"You may be right about that," she nodded. "I mean, you are right about that; you saw someone else do a similar thing, though with less panache.

Of course, we're all here to learn and grow, right? This is a safe space where you don't need to be as careful."

"Did I tell you we found out who she is?"

"No, you didn't. Who was she?"

"She owns that club in Chelmsford. Kind of obvious when you see it's named the 'Raven's Crest.'"