He was drunk, so of course it seemed like a good idea.
Lochlann Cabyll-Each was standing at the top of the ballroom stairs in the dark. His dark hair was mussed and still-damp, the t-shirt he was wearing was a size too small and clinging desperately to his body, and he wasn't wearing shoes. When he walked, the echo of his footsteps sounded like the clop of hooves.
He was holding a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a lighter in the other, flicking the edge with his thumb and cursing under his breath. By the time he produced a flame and got the candles lit, it was time to begin.
He was drunk, so of course it seemed like a good idea.
Starlight Academy has a vast library with a multitude of books for students to use for educational purposes. A true summoner would know the proper way to lay out the sigils, if he or she even needed them, the right candles, the right chants.They would know that his blood was wrong.
Lochlann was not a summoner. Lochlann wasn't even human.
He was a water horse, a Cabyll-Each, a kelpie. And he was drunk,so of course this seemed like a good idea.
He took a razor blade from his pocket and clumsily cut across his wrist and he poured the blood across the floor, smearing the sigils with his other, trembling hand. he dumped some of the whisky across his cut, gasping at the sting, but another sip from the same bottle dulled the pain.
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis," he slurred the latin, "a tenebris ad lucem,"
He wanted someone to love him, but mostly he just wanted someone to provide a much needed roll-in-the-way without a murder investigation following. He wanted someone he couldn't kill.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis, " he slurred, "domina umbrae."
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea. Summoning a succubus. She wouldn't be able to kill him, and he was fine with the idea of a sexual parasite. He would sacrifice whatever he could to just get rid of these feelings inside him, and Lochlann knew only one way to do that.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis, " he slurred, his voice rising in the sillness of the room. "in hunc mundum."
He shouted, extending his hands, blood dripping down his fingertips, "Appare!"
The candles extinguished by themselves. Lochlann waited, his breath heavy, his fingers crossed.
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea. It's just a shame he got his latin from google translate.
((ooc: @Kait)
Lochlann Cabyll-Each was standing at the top of the ballroom stairs in the dark. His dark hair was mussed and still-damp, the t-shirt he was wearing was a size too small and clinging desperately to his body, and he wasn't wearing shoes. When he walked, the echo of his footsteps sounded like the clop of hooves.
He was holding a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a lighter in the other, flicking the edge with his thumb and cursing under his breath. By the time he produced a flame and got the candles lit, it was time to begin.
He was drunk, so of course it seemed like a good idea.
Starlight Academy has a vast library with a multitude of books for students to use for educational purposes. A true summoner would know the proper way to lay out the sigils, if he or she even needed them, the right candles, the right chants.They would know that his blood was wrong.
Lochlann was not a summoner. Lochlann wasn't even human.
He was a water horse, a Cabyll-Each, a kelpie. And he was drunk,so of course this seemed like a good idea.
He took a razor blade from his pocket and clumsily cut across his wrist and he poured the blood across the floor, smearing the sigils with his other, trembling hand. he dumped some of the whisky across his cut, gasping at the sting, but another sip from the same bottle dulled the pain.
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis," he slurred the latin, "a tenebris ad lucem,"
He wanted someone to love him, but mostly he just wanted someone to provide a much needed roll-in-the-way without a murder investigation following. He wanted someone he couldn't kill.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis, " he slurred, "domina umbrae."
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea. Summoning a succubus. She wouldn't be able to kill him, and he was fine with the idea of a sexual parasite. He would sacrifice whatever he could to just get rid of these feelings inside him, and Lochlann knew only one way to do that.
"Denuntiamus autem vobis, " he slurred, his voice rising in the sillness of the room. "in hunc mundum."
He shouted, extending his hands, blood dripping down his fingertips, "Appare!"
The candles extinguished by themselves. Lochlann waited, his breath heavy, his fingers crossed.
He was drunk, so of course this seemed like a good idea. It's just a shame he got his latin from google translate.
((ooc: @Kait)
