Blodwen Rowlands (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
white_flowers) wrote2006-06-11 07:03 pm
white_flowers) wrote2006-06-11 07:03 pm
Entry tags:
IC: Midsummer Rising
Midsummer.
Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.
It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.
But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.
So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.
This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.
She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.
Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.
It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.
But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.
So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.
This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.
She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.
no subject
-On Santo Domingo, some of the other officers had tossed a barrel of gunpowder into the tunnel Wellard was in, in order to take out a group of attacking Spaniards. He had almost been caught in the explosion. Almost. Wellard had survived, a bit singed and bruised, but unharmed.-
Still, the rush of heat, the roar of flames, the giant breathing down his back, had been one of the most horrifying forces of nature Wellard had ever been in.
Until now.
The Dark roared around him, louder than thunder or explosions. Crushing sound from all directions forcing Wellard to the ground. Light and dark flashed and colors twisted until he screwed his eyes shut against the sickening onslaught, body shivering from both fear and the aching chill both.
At least the fire had been warm. This cold Wellard knew too well, and he gritted his teeth against the familiar, poisonous feel of it sliding along his bones like knives-
And this power was not even directed at him.
Thank God.
no subject
He reaches for Wellard, his hand finding the younger man's shoulder. Bowing his head, he staggers closer to him, his wand before him.
He should try to cast a Patronus. He should at least try to light the tip of the wand with a Lumos spell. He can do nothing, though, at the moment aside from attempting to remain upright.
no subject
Chill fire burns along Wellard's veins, beating in time with his heart, as the voices murmur, "You know us, you know her, you have felt it, accept it. They will die -- all of them will die, who can resist the Dark? Only you can save them. The bird has cast the Dark out, and it will devour everything! But you have felt it within, you can carry it, you can absorb it... give yourself to the Dark, give it a place to go, and they will not die..."
Behind the whisper the eerie sound of shrieks and screams can be heard. Familiar ones, at that -- the mockery of mimicry, of known voices crying out in fear and despair. Archie. Jack Sparrow. Svava. Mary Lennox. So many others-- and their terror is clear.
Just as clear to Tom is the seductive promise of power, coaxing him to accept the Dark for his own, saying, "You already know what the Dark can offer, and you are a part of it yourself, a marked soul within the shape of a man? Who better to protect your home and family but you, in this? None can understand and control it as you can! Take it upon you, draw the Dark in, let it in, and they will be safe ... and you powerful once more..."
no subject
And when you look long into the abyss
Wellard had felt this pain, this cold, this power before-
("And I would do anything-")
the abyss also looks into you
And he had faced that choice as well. Damn himself to save others? He had. He had, and did not succeed.
("This isn't hell, is it, sir?")
To give in would be easy. Damn himself, save the others, with the poisoned promise that the pain would stop-
The betraying promise Wellard knew too well-
The problem is, the pain never stopped.
He knew quite too well. One betrayal that he had finally stood against, and then another, and another. If he went with that cold, poisoned offer now, would he saving all of them?
Or betraying them himself?
Whoever fights monsters
("Do not do anything stupid.")
"No. No. No!"
The Dark howled and whirled and the world kept going mad, but until powers far greater than Wellard broke him-
("I am no coward.")
should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster
He would stand against them.
no subject
The offer of power is tempting - Tom would never deny that. But he is not a marked soul. He knows that now. He is not a thing of evil. The Darkness is wrong.
"You've been sadly misinformed," he snarls into the maelstrom. "Lumos!"
The light from his wand shines with a faint, flickering glow, but shine it does. He reaches down, taking Wellard's arm.
"Up you get, Wellard," he says, pulling the younger man to his feet.
They would stand against this together.
no subject
From around them comes a cruel, cheated hiss, and the Dark abandons temptation in favor of angry force. The wind rises to a sudden peak, and a twisting tendril of whirling black cloud falls upon them with the weight of ages, seeking to crush them into nonexistence for their insolence, to break their minds and drive them mad, then fling them beyond the end of Time into utter destruction.
no subject
"Its trying- we can't let it-"
'Take us' would be what Wellard might have said, except the Dark has moved from its promises, to something else it knows too well.
Distruction.
Wellard stares. Powers far beyond his reckoning, but even he can tell that there is nothing more that can possibly be done-
At least if he dies, it is on his feet, and not in the service of the Dark.
no subject
DoorIngressGavrocheDoorIngressGavrocheDoorIngressGavroche
The names are his mantra against madness or worse. He shuts his eyes tightly.
DoorIngressGavrocheTheMeadowFlyingTheCottageDoorSlippingthe
ringonherfingerLovingherLoveDoorKeepsafeDoorIngressGavroche
He jabs his wand into the blackness and yells "EXPECTO PATRONUM!". A bright white cobra uncoils from the tip of the wand and shields both Wellard and Tom from the brunt of the force aimed against them.
no subject
-- and then from further away, a corona of golden-white fire flares with blinding brightness, and the Dark recoils swiftly, drawing all of itself back into one large mass and away from Tom and Wellard as it moves now to strike its ancient enemy, answering a call that cannot be denied.