Hex, Drugs and Clocks that Toll

[Tuesday]

And by Hex she means Rits, and by Drugs she means chocolate because, by golly she'd fresh outta weed, and and by Clocks....well. There's a Clock. The Clock.

It still tick-tocked to the beat of her heart, or was it the other way around? Her heart was beating to it's tick-tock? Whatever. It was there, it had been there. (it would always be there) Only. It wasn't. It still was. But it wasn't the same. It sounded-felt distant and muffled.

They done fucked up.

Really screwed Mayflower there.

Soooooooooo not really a'tolling there. but there was a nagging feeling that yeah, it was totally tolling and that was Seriously Bad. Fucked Up Bad. Like why the fuck was it the ladies that Rit'd? The Tolling was a Thing and everyone was being stupid!

Sigh

After the fort fell she had a good cry. 'Cause feelings. Bottling 'em. Bad.

So here she was. New day, new dawn. Like the song. But not, since focus. Then after. After came the singing, and also the weed. Getting more.

Because. Reasons.

(does she need reasons?)

Also. Singing. Happening now. Expect it's not singing. Not really. Chanting. Sort of. But Tuesday's awesomely special brand. Because High. Chanting it. Felt weird on her tongue.
So singing. Mouth opens, sound's expelled, and the golden glyph work begins to expand. The Imago, slowing, but surely's built. Weft. Weave. A tapestry that was a blanket, but not the blanket fort kind. But the security kind. The unicorn needed something like that around her shoulders. And, you know, the rest of her.

The check list of what to do During and After Rits was accomplished.

Water. (because sing-chanting)
Potty. (because water and also time, baking (ha!) in the sun)
Snacks. (because hungry, and also time. and the baking)
Water. (because snacks and also more sing-chanting, and yes. More sun baking)

Then the unicorn got to it once more. Because Shields were awesome, but Sight was awesome too.

Less weft and weave, more notes and song, a melody to focus her sing-chanting on. The golden glyph work sparkles, and expands, in miniature, lattice lenses, to fit over her eyeballs. Only to shatter into golden dust, concentration broken and the spell fails.

During check list checked. Again. The After part left for later, because back cracks as a unicorn stretches. Sinking back into a chair on the roof. She might be a little burnt, but that might turn into a tan. Or it might not.

Whatever. She had Life people. If it, you know, was super annoying and or owie. Faye'd prolly do it.

But dude. This six hour Rit stint was annoying. Like sooooo much. Dude. Gotta cut that down.

  Riting up a Fate Shield

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2017-07-02 13:59:59		[02] Tuesday rolls 7 to Rit Up a Fate Shield (Fate 3 + Gnos 2 +2 HS) (10 Again)		9, 2, 8, 2, 9, 8, 2		4 successes
2017-07-02 13:59:59		[01] Tuesday rolls 7 to Rit Up a Fate Shield (Fate 3 + Gnos 2 +2 HS) (10 Again)		2, 2, 5, 9, 5, 4, 10, 6		2 successes

  Fate Sight Fail

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2017-07-02 14:01:23		[02] Tuesday rolls 7 to Rit Up Fate Sight (Fate 3 + Gnos 2 +2 HS) (10 Again)		7, 2, 3, 7, 1, 7, 2		failure
2017-07-02 14:01:23		[01] Tuesday rolls 7 to Rit Up Fate Sight (Fate 3 + Gnos 2 +2 HS) (10 Again)		3, 6, 2, 2, 4, 9, 2		1 success

[Tuesday]

So. Not Sight. Not Good.

But rest. Needed some. So here she was. New Day. New Dawn. Etcetera.

Yes, she was burnt, and yes she was owie. So that's why she was now in her room. Blanket fort reassembled, anchor socks, sock'd. Life peeps not talked too, because. Sight. Needs it before she peeped on her Foxes.

Relax.

Focus. Let her mind not think of stupid things, and just focus on the magic.

Notes and songs. A melody woven together by her will and her chant-singing, woven. Maybe it wasn't less weft and weave, it was the same.

Glyph work sparks, expands. Delicate in it's sizes, but solid and real in ways her spells that aren't rotes never are.

Coming back to herself, Tuesday barks out a laugh. Giddy. Because. Why wouldn't she be!?

This was fucking awesome!


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