James was sitting at the piano, which had been moved into the main room of the boardinghouse. After his conversation with Isabella he must admit, her argument did have some validity. After some of the things he'd seen since he came to town it didn't hurt to have help in case anything needed to be "put down."
He looked over to Mrs. Lincoln. James was in a bit of awe of her, like many in the North he was of course an admirier of "The Great Emancipator," a man taken from this world far too soon. He also noticed Lola and wondered what was going through her mind, Isabella of course looked like she belonged here, but the Indian? She seemed to have some know;edge of the spirit world, and James had seem enough of Indian Medicine to respect it. Lola on the other hand, had not. He was sure this would come back to "bite him on the ass," to use the local vernacular. He needed something to distract everyone, so he flexed his fingers and began to play.
Comments
The air was thick; the smoke
The air was thick; the smoke from the candles made it literally thick while the proposed event of the night handled the metaphorical sense of the word.
Isabela found herself wondering, if there was anyone else prepared should this go wrong. Rituals were certainly not something to be taken lightly, and Isabela couldn't shake the gut feeling that there were far too many magically un-gifted people in attendance... to many things to control.
She slowly made her way over to the piano, and hopped up onto the piano... not unlike what tended to happen at the shows that are normally held at the boarding house. Smiling down at the sheriff, as her head and feet seemed to move with the beat of the music he was playing.
Quietly she spoke to him, "I've got a very bad feeling about this... the best case is we summon the correct spirit of the dead."
James didn't look up at all.
James didn't look up at all. the last thing he needed was Lola thinking Isabella was a threat to her. "And the worst thing?" His voice was barely audible over the music. Playing Beethoven took concentration at the best of times.
She took a moment to consider
She took a moment to consider the all the possibilities. "Well the worst thing for us would likely be a possession... nothing worse then watching as some demon takes control of your body; without the prospect of regaining control."
"The worst thing for the town would be .... an army of arch-demons, decided that rather then coming to us... it would be easier to bring the entire town into two them. The town vanishes from this plane of existence; without anyone else knowing ... while the town itself faces and endless army of demons looking to torture us for the better part of a thousand years."
"For, the world... by far that would be opening a rift. Basically think of it like opening a door without the ability to close it. This world becomes flooded with ghosts, demons, devils, and whatever else ... in a very literal sense turning it into hell on earth. "
She paused for a moment, "Although they are all unlikely..."
James contemplated all the
James contemplated all the unattractive options as he played. The music helped calm his nerves. "Do you fear Miss Delacroix may be a charlatan?"
"No, she's the real deal."
"No, she's the real deal." Isabela said without hesitation... a simple look when she first saw Miss Delacroix, told all she needed to know.
"Pity, I'd hoped she was a
"Pity, I'd hoped she was a charlatan, their motives are usually predictable."