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I've been thinking for a while and have concluded that my practice consists of four major parts, all inextricably linked, and that when discussing one, it's impossible not to mention the others.
These four categories can be combined into two groups.
The first group is the Faith. I haven't found a more suitable word at the moment that, I think, would describe this group in more detail, so for now, we'll focus on the Faith.
This group includes two categories: the Divine and the Creed.
The Divine are, in fact, the Gods I worship. Currently, my pantheon consists of 15 Fears and one King in Yellow, with Nyarlathotep, who may very well join. These are the Gods, the Deities, whom I worship, whose teachings I follow, whom I understand, and whom I study. They are the foundation of my practice, and, emerging from horror as a media, my practice is also rooted in horror. This is an understanding of all the subtleties and facets of my Gods, all their faces, both kind and frightening. My Patrons — the Vast and the Spiral — are closest to me in this regard, of course, but the other Fears, as well as the King and, quite possibly, Nyar, are also close to me. This also includes my concept of the Offering and the personal relationship between me and my Gods, and my existence as an Avatar and the experience of my Avatarhood.
The Creed is a set of my rules, laws, and other branches of spirituality that, while connected to the Divine, are not quite it. This includes my beliefs about angels and dragons, the elements and energy centers, my concepts of Home and Art, and my adherence to the ideology of punk and absurdism. I would also include here my relationship with the Fair Folk, part of my practice based on local and lineage traditions, the veneration of ancestors of various types, my view of animism, and the interweaving of the flesh, the divine, the machine, the rot and the deceitful. All these elements are connected to the Divine in one way or another. For example, my concept of Home has two sides: Home and House, the second part of which is inextricably linked to the Spiral, for it is a Spiral, and thus even the other one, the Home, is also connected to the Spiral. Or my exploration of absurdism is nothing more than an understanding of my Vast's ideology regarding our fear of insignificance.
The second group — alterhumanism — speaks for itself.
This group includes two categories: the Pack and the Kin.
The Pack is our spiritual experience connected to our system. I am/We are, Nomad, an OSDD system, and in our modest six-person system, each alter has their own unique relationship to our practice. The Wayfarer, for example, a Deity alter, is drawn to the Divine and a more grandiose reverence for them and for the Themselves as well; Traveller has a kinder and more naive understanding of the Divine; Vagabond feels comfortable with the harsher and more chaotic aspects and Deities of the practice; the Stalker loves and understands the Spiral better than anyone else; and the Hermit understands the Creed like no one else. Understanding ourselves, our origins, and our preferences is an integral part of our practice, for absolutely everyone in one area or another is connected to our practice. Vagabond is a sha, Sutekh's beast, with his hair colour and similar character, who remained and developed precisely during the period of our worship of Sutekh. Wayfarer is a deity in itself. Hermit is a slavic spirit who follows the rules of the Fair Folk and the rusalki, mavkas, and poludnitsas. Stalker is the Lichtenberg Figure, literally a fragment of one of the Fears. Traveller is a child who is given the chance to see and experience religion and magic and their beauty in a safe place. And, of course, I, Wanderer, the host, who started it all and who, essentially, builds a relationship with the Divine and who understands and gives shape to the Creed. It's about accepting your more animalistic and wild parts, it's about embracing your naivety and joy and providing a safe childlike environment, it's about embracing your mischievous, more playful, and romantically searching side, it's about embracing your more bodily, luscious side and building a safe environment for obsessions with anything or anyone. It's embracing ourselves, how each feels towards something grand and living and loving each other.
The Kin is our understanding of ourselves as Michael "Mike" Crew fictionkin incarnate and the study of ourselves and our past lives in this regard. While certain alters have their own specific types, we all are in one way or another are Mike. It's about understanding our main kin, as well as understanding the nature of certain alters. It's about studying our past lives, studying the past lives of alters, if any. In addition to the primary kin, all alters have their own kin in one form or another, and studying them and understanding what brings us joy and what feels right also falls into this category. It's learning our past lives and all those we loved there, studying how that life influenced us and how it influences our current living body. And, of course, this category is very closely connected to the Divine. As Mike, I will always belong to the Vast and the Spiral will always be with me.
This is what I know at the moment of this writing. I sense that something will soon be added to some of these categories, as Nyar has appeared, and I think this will lead me into the realm of the other eldritch deities, as well as a deeper understanding of my King and Carcosa. But, let these changes come naturally; I am ready for them and embrace them.
Thank you all for reading. I wanted to share this, so I'm leaving it here. :]
Credits: @fae-and-wolf for the dividers and @vastpostin for the dividers.
plot: Loki and Stephen find y/n and Malekith and realize what must've happened. She has to make a fateful decision in order to protect her loved ones...
Masterlist
Realization was painful, reality sometimes hard to take in but the expression in Loki’s eyes as he tore open the door was shattering every humble motive you’ve begun to talk yourself into.
You had played with fire just like his variant said. And naturally, you got burnt.
“What have you done?“ Loki huffed in utter shock before dodging from an alien looking salve of red, sharp substance.
The shock ripped your mouth open, leaving you frozen for a second before the deadly instincts took over, allowing orange eldritch spells to span a cover around you and Loki.
“Something you would never understand“.
“Y/n? Loki? I think I knew who had the audacity to steal the darkho-“ your dad neared your room with hasty steps, almost running before he found you in the doorway, your sorcery sizzling and deflecting Malekith's malicious intent.
Whoever he was about to blame, you were delivering the perfect contraindication. On a silver plate with the unmistakable circle of extinguished candles and the multiversal bliss still lingering in the heavy air of your cold room.
Another rough jolt of whatever magic or weapon the pale creature was wielding pulled you out of the numbing trance of intrusive thoughts about how your father would judge you.
How his heart would break as soon as he realized.
But the dark elf was here, a clear menace to your existence, so dealing with him was priority number one if you didn’t want the whole earth to suffer from your ignorant ways. He would kill anyone who opposed to the obviously maniac intent he harbored, even the weak, innocent people. You couldn’t bear it.
“Who are you and where are you from?” the strong, almost military voice of the sorcerer supreme boomed across the room resonating irregularly form crumbling walls.
Your heart ached, tightening at the shocked tone embedded in your dad’s voice. The realization was inevitable, you could hear his accusations, his pain without even looking at his face.
Fuck, it hurt. You were lost and you knew it.
Malekith just laughed, a dirty, weirdly emotionless laughter for someone who just got dragged from his universe without even knowing about the multiverse's existence.
Perhaps he didn’t even care? Perhaps it was of no greater meaning to his motive?
“What kind of sick trickery is that, son of Laufey?“ he rasped, an uncomfortable alien accent layered within the darkness of his threat.
The creature was haughty, radiating pure, menacing self-confidence and an unmissable wish to kill. Honestly, he reminded you a bit of the façade of king Loki you had visited only mere minutes ago. Technically. Time went by differently while dreamwalking.
“You- you are dead, Malekith“
“What have you done?“ your dad whispered in your ear, his scarred hands reinforcing your shield, a father’s unconditional love always wanting to protect his child - the silent traitor who had risked everything he lived for.
“I have failed you. Everyone“ you breathed, far too hurt for tears and far too embarrassed for explications.
He would never understand. No one would and you knew it. Every emotion came down at you like a crashing plane. You had gone too far and the consequences were facing you with a dangerously cold expression and dark red eyes.
Loki had been the downfall of your heart and so you became the downfall of everything. A bit extreme, wasn't it.
“What do you want?“ Loki stepped in again, the only one of you who was able to from words after what scandal had just unfolded so tragically.
If your heart was breaking a second time now, his was coming along.
“Every nine realm drowning in darkness like it is supposed to be. The Aether has returned and the days of your never intended existence are counted“ the dark elf rasped, his long white hair swaying as he lunged to fire a new set of red matter in your direction.
He was strong. Stronger than you and maybe even stronger than the sorcerer supreme with whatever foreign power was surging through his pale veins.
“I will make you pay, Asgardian” he continued, summoning a weird orb of dark reddish energy surrounded by luscious black dust.
Malice intent lingered in those darkened eyes that were fixed on Loki wandering to you with every time his attacks got deflected. But both of you knew you couldn’t do this much longer, the sick smirk on your enemy's thin lips growing to a full grin.
“I have never fought you. I am not the Loki you’re looking for, Malekith” the god tried to take the diplomatic path which the elf even seemed to consider for a second before shaking his head, grunting like a feral animal.
“My patience is wearing thin”.
“And so is mine“ you scoffed, voice shaky from your body being wrecked and mind spent.
Still, this monster's presence was your fault alone. A manifested testament to a painful, surely deadly failure you were now faced with.
But not only you were in jeopardy and that was the problem. Perhaps you could’ve dealt with Loki’s rejection over time but never with his or your dad's death.
Over your dead body.
Cursed righteousness, a poor excuse to your mindless actions, spread in your mind forcing you to pay a price that's toll was impossible to assess. Yet, it was the only option you had left to prevent anyone from suffering from your very own pain, your very own inability to restrain those seething emotions; the love for Loki that was threatened to be choked like a guiding torch in a stuffy tunnel.
Closing your eyes you focused on the pages of the darkhold you had just skimmed through yet somewhat remembered. An amount that had to suffice for serving the greater good.
The pages that were about you, the woman with the might to drown the world as you pleased. Just like that.
You had sworn yourself to never use any of the spells your skittish gaze deciphered as you began to dreamwalk so youthfully misguided.
However, promises were easy to break, especially when made to oneself. An entertaining paradox.
It was clear as the night that those spells would be devouring you once touched.
But it were the people you loved whose lives were at stake and love was a pacifistic motive, was it not?
Delving in your memories, the fragments appeared again pieces connecting like a puzzle before you felt the familiar heat surging through your veins. A forbidden feeling but the small part already corrupted was enjoying it like a masorchist.
Loki’s aching orbs met yours in a gaze full of wordless pleas and simmering questions. An intimate moment if there wasn’t Malekith still craving to see Loki’s cold corpse at his feet.
“Y/n, please. Don’t“ Stephen whispered though labored breaths, his glassy eyes fixed on your black fingers, the first physical marks the cursed book had gifted you.
His voice hurt like a shot straight in the heart, only reminding you of the need to clean up after yourself. To make true to the final bit of good you could do.
Love and guilt made the best antiheroes and even if you didn’t want to hear it, the evidence made you look like one, moving you in a bloody spotlight.
A spotlight Stephen had feared since the day he had discovered the parts about his daughter in the darkhold. Nevertheless, his caution was in vain. The disgusting feeling of knowing what would happen spread in his chest like a black wildfire.
“I will take care of him. Do not seek me or I cannot guarantee your safety“ you whispered before dropping the conjured shield, your body rushing forward to clash against Malekith's and the window behind him shattering as you both disappeared in the depths of the Himalayan mountains.
“Y/n“ Loki’s deep cry echoed through the whole Kamar Taj slamming against the ancient brick walls like a punch.
“Did you know of that?“ Stephen suddenly hissed, turning to face Loki, his moving chest nudging the god to take a few steps backwards. His anger and worries drove him feral before the sorcerer restrained his magic wielding hand again.
“Stephen, I swear I had no idea“ Loki answered hoisting his hands to soothe the man who had a thousand horrid scenarios tormenting his mind.
His innocent girl had allowed herself to be corrupted by the book he tried to warn her about since the day she set a foot on those holy grounds. The sinful pages about her he had tried to rip out and burn countless times during lonely nights in the cellar.
“Excuse my behavior“ Stephen sighed “I will- I have to speak to the guards of the Sanctums“ and with a few thundering thuds of lather boots on the dusty floor he was gone, cold shock battling with the need and requirement to remain collected.
Loki had no idea how much time had passed.
He was alone, his muscular back slamming against the wall, his sweater collecting dirt as he slid down the wall, ending up on the gray rug that was peppered with small specks of your blood.
Despair forbid those hot tears, his hand wandering across the pale face not caring if it got dirty. It couldn't be dirtier than the blood that lingered on his hands now anyway.
Suddenly, he heard a whisper of his own voice invading his head, a weird feeling, as if two of him lived in his consciousness.
“She has visited me“ the voice whispered, opening up what caused a warmth to flood Loki’s mind. A warmth that felt like genuine love and devotion. Your love.
“How are you doing this?“ Loki yelled, standing up to tumble over to the mirror, checking if he was hallucinating.
“Doesn't matter how, just why“ he began, pausing for a theatrical second but never daring to grip his variant’s mind tighter. It was respectful. “She rescued me, allowed me to live the life I always craved; in her arms“ king Loki continued, relishing in the darkhold’s power to reciprocate the incredible favor you had done for him.
He must’ve looked like a lunatic, cursing to himself and stumbling through a destroyed, darkened room all alone.
Maybe he was mad. Driven insane by the knowledge that it was his cowardice and his mindless words that turned you to dark witchcraft that was slowly devouring you like a constrictor.
“You bedded her, haven’t you?“ the voice asked and elicited a mental 'yes' from Loki who had eventually given up to chase his intruder away.
“But no courting, right? I saw it in her mind, her memories“ king Loki whispered, now trying to keep his targeted variant in a soft grasp like holding a skittish animal. He was an experienced dreamwalker until you've set a joyful end to it. The exact thing Loki wanted his variant to do now.
You had touched him deeply.
“We don’t do affection. Giving love to someone else is impossible for us. It would never work, would it?“ He felt how Loki’s pulse rose, how his mind was racing to escape while parallely processing the ridiculousness of his own words and thoughts.
The exact ones he was harboring some time ago… when he broke both your hearts.
“Loki is not meant to receive love nor is he able to give properly. We would be a chagrin to her. We would be blinded by her spirited nature just because we aren’t deeming ourselves worthy of a woman like her“
“Alright, stop“ Loki yelled his lungs out, tears were given free reign over his porcelain cheeks like terrorists.
It hurt to hear his stupid excuses being spoken out loud, recited like a poor play. And most of all; it was pure nonsense. Childish.
“Let me tell you one last thing by experience; loosing this woman means loosing yourself“ One last noise before the strange presence in his consciousness faded again, releasing his mind to process and bleed.
Yes, even minds could bleed but the blood was nothing palpable nonetheless, just as painful. Hurting enough to get him straighten his back again, summoning the tesseract to bring him closer to the person he loved most. To rescue you.
Loki had no clue where you were however, guided by his intention the god with eyes red and sore from crying and clothes hugged by dirt and dust ended up in a deserted cave.
Ancient stalagmites were hanging from the rocky ceiling. The occasional plop of small water droplets kissing the wet floor gave a rhythm to a heavy panting and small whines.
“Claim your rule“ the darkhold whispered to you; a sobbing puddle huddled up on the wet floor in between lifeless corpses of military special forces and pieces of Malekith.
The Aether was retracted when you had killed the dark elf like a toy to clean up your mess and was now a spinning ball of liquid lingering in a rock crevice.
Your quivering hands were pressing against your spent ears, a desperate try to keep the voices out that had lured you to kill at least 20 innocent soldiers when your powers were running wild.
It would happen again, they would take control in some time again. And you were defenseless after unleashing the beast that was part of yourself. Like you thought, a heavy toll for saving those you loved.
“Go. Go away“ you whimpered rocking back and forth on your heels, the eldritch robe destroyed, looking more like deserted shreds of fabric you found in a massacre.
“Look in the mirror“ the voice as sweet as a distant siren commanded, making you lean forward to see your reflection.
An ice cold shudder ran down spine, stiffening it as a tired looking, pale and black-eyed version of yourself appeared on your shoulder, grinning at you through the rippling puddle.
“Look at your nature“
“Noooo!“ you screamed shooting up and stamping your foot in the puddle, water mixed with your own crimson blood sprayed everywhere, staining the impeccable light beige walls of the cave.
Your voice was burdened with agony shuddering Loki to the bones as he crept around the corner seeing you kicking the pool of liquid, your hands gripping your head, pulling on strands of your loose, dirty hair.
Guilt.
That was what he felt.
Raw guilt and utter pity for what he had bestowed upon you. For what cowardice had led you to loose yourself and fight your own mistake with the ripped, bloody banner of love hoisted high.
Selflessness even, as long as it could be regarded as such when the black ash of corruption surged through your delicate veins.
“Y/n, are you alright?“ A question perhaps too cautious, too misplaced given the circumstances.
You froze on the spot, turning slowly and palms sizzling with orange sorcery, a deadly spell that just waited to be delivered, freed.
God, it came so easy to you now. The men and women on the floor were proof of your hands turning into mindless killing machines. Left alone Malekith’s decease although he wielded the Aether.
“Please don’t come near me“ the whine ascended a sore throat, your whole body quivering at the sight of the man you’ve wanted too hard, gone too far for.
But love and insanity weren’t that far from one another, friendly greeting neighbors instead. And you should’ve stayed on the sidewalk.
“I swear Loki. I don’t want to hurt you“
“You could never, darling. Never“ Loki's baritone rung, his palms facing the ground, hands held calmly in front of his waist.
A soothing gesture but your rotten instincts could smell the simmering fear behind the handsome façade of a Norse god. It suited his sharp face, you thought, coming nearer and raising your magic conducting hand.
You had lost yourself once again.
“What makes you so sure?“ you grinned wickedly, Loki’s emeralds narrowing as he saw the change of color in your beautiful iris.
It was too late. You were captured, had slipped through his hands like an invisible feather drenched in blood.
Twitching eyebrows accompanied his step forwards. Towards you. A feeble try to see whether you were able to fight your way back again.
Loki knew you were in there, he sensed your love that had never vanished for a single second. Not even when you decided to sacrifice your sanity. Even then he knew you did it for love, a love he denied you so tragically. The god must try to talk to you or he would loose himself in the dark claws of a monstrous abyss.
His variant was right. He didn’t want to live without you, no matter what he had tried to talk himself into all the damn time. All those times he wanted nothing but to make love to you instead of mindless fun.
“I know you’re there, y/n. Please let us talk“ his soothing tone resounded in the dimmed cave, the forest green hues reflected the specks of sunlight on the wet, glistening rocks.
The rays came from behind giving him an ethereal halo, the look of a god he was and shining through curly strands of obsidian hair.
Perhaps he had come to provide salvation.
And you were back, coughing and gripping the walls of the cave before your hands slipped off, knees bruising as you collided with the cold stone floor.
“I’m so sorry, Loki. For everything“ you sobbed quietly until finding the courage to look up at the man who towered right in front of you.
You were unable to fathom what hurt more; the corruption spreading inexorably in your mind or the bittersweet look on Loki’s chiseled face... the honeyed note of fear and mistrust in between that kind of love you had always wanted from him.
Utter devotion mixed with shock made a toxic cocktail your eyes drank in wantonly as if dried out.
Blaming him for his fear was ridiculous with all the corpses lying around and the Aether curling in hasty circles in a mere crevice. Sitting in the middle of it all, you looked like the freshly crowned queen of destruction.
“No“ Loki began, a thick tear rolling down the gorgeous path that was his marbled cheekbone.
“It is I who must apologize. You have nothing but suffered from my idiotic cowardice“ his voice was trembling, weak almost. A state you had never found him in before but raw situations brought out raw emotions.
Even in the tough god that was Loki Laufeyson.
“Kill me“ you breathed barely audible, averting your gaze from his face to spare yourself from the disturbed look.
Squeezing your eyes shut to free a new gush of salty tears, you awaited his reaction while deep down knowing and accepting that it was the only way.
“What?“ Loki just panted. He had heard you. Loud and clear. But he didn’t want to hear it.
A shaky hand of yours reached up to where Loki stood in his full Asgardian armor and might, trying to hand him an elaborately carved, black dagger.
His hand refused for a second but you gathered all the left over strength to prop yourself on your knees for a second. Both hands took his right one and wrapped those long digits around the handle, pressing them closed around the cold leather. Determinedly.
“No. No I won’t. There must be another way“
“Loki, look at me“ you coaxed his gaze downwards, the regal tears now dropping on the floor in ironic parallelism to the droplets escaping the stalagmites.
“This is me now. I risked it in order to save you from my inconsiderate mistakes. But I cannot control it. I will hurt people“ you explained, your voice a fragile whine that crept under Loki’s skin so numbingly.
“I will hurt you. And then, the small part of me that’s still spared from this damned book will die with you“ you bit your lower lip at the bold impossibility you demanded from the man you loved.
“And once my mind is gone, all this will be hell. Look“ you hoisted your sweaty palms to face Loki, an image of orange sparks and hues built, showing your destiny; destruction, death and chaos.
Loki gasped.
But unlike you expected he didn’t back off a single inch, quite the contrary. The tall god squatted down to your level, using his pointer to coax your chin up, loving eyes filling your heart with an indescribable feeling.
Home, somehow.
That was when his lips brushed yours with such caution he felt like feather caressing your skin until your lips fully sealed. The kiss was tender, suave in it’s short, skittish nature.
But you had to pull back feeling the darkness overcoming your senses again and with Loki this close, it would’ve ended rapidly and easily.
“Kill me! Loki, I beg you“ you pleaded, your voice rather a command built with a spine out of the last bits of common sense in your brain.
Shudders came over you, your hands clenching and seeking anything to hold onto. “Please“ a last plea escaped your lips that were still blessed with the handsome god’s infinite love.
“But y/n, I-“
“Do it“
Gritting his teeth and squeezing the reddened, still glassy eyes shut, he took a quick swing with his right arm, the silver blade glimmering as it tasted the sunlight for a blink of an eye being Loki’s tall frame. Then he grunted, your eyes widening as you saw his hand shooting in your direction just before you might've lost control.
Black. Silence.
Peace.
“Are you sure you will be able to handle it?“ Stephen asked, placing a hand on the dirty looking god’s shoulder.
An almost fatherly act Loki weirdly enjoyed for the peaceful moment it lasted. But Wong’s subtle cough ripped his fantasies apart and propelled him back into the irritating reality.
Weird enough that this terrific happening had brought him and the father of the woman whose heart he had broken so close. Out of a sudden. But it felt good, proofing another one of Loki's lame excuses to turn out as ridiculous.
The list had grown longer but he had no time for self-doubt or senseless anger. Letting the sorcerer supreme do what he gotta do would be painful enough to redeem himself.
Stephen was a collected man, his calm nature helping Loki to stay focused as he had brought him his halfway corrupted daughter; unconscious and pale. But alive and breathing.
Wong and he had worked out a solution many years ago in case this very scenario ever happened. The book of Vishanti was a helpful tool when crafting a brighter future.
A brighter future that should include the once evil in it's original, pure form again. Good and evil were harsh concepts anyway, long obsolete.
But menace was a term clearly defined and you had radiated it like pheromones. The need for this spell was unquestionable even if Stephen created the illusion of choice for the spent god of mischief.
But Loki accepted his faith quickly. He should’ve built you a throne when you asked. He could’ve laid the world at your feet…
“Stephen, I love her“ his baritone voice was small in comparison to his full volume, suited for this very occasion, his vocal cords a talented tailor.
“We’ve talked about this. I respect your feelings and I’m happy my daughter is loved and cherished now but-“
“But everything will change. I know Stephen, I know“ Loki sighed rubbing his neck, those dexterous digits soon wetted by sweat.
“Do it. Help her. No matter what it might cost“.
The sorcerer supreme nodded subtly, a scarred finger beckoning Wong over to join in the spell they’ve internalized.
Although he wouldn’t suffer from what was to follow, a lonely tear rolled down Stephen's sharp features, pooling in the perfectly groomed goatee. Seeing his daughter like this, foreign blood on her hands, black fingers and clothes so ruined was beyond his darkest worries.
You’ve paid a heavy price to purge your chaotic mistakes but you did for love. To protect.
“You will be alright“ Loki whispered in your unconscious ear, holding your cold hand tight and intertwining his fingers with yours before a sizzling sound and orange sparks of eldritch magic filled the darkened cellar of the Kamar Taj.
If the god of mischief had a tear left, he would have cried it now.
A tear of farewell…
a/n: this chapter is a sad mess and I'm very sorry!!! But they will soon learn to fly after this rough fall, I promise 😉
I feel like Wanda's mind trick doesn't really work for magic users and I can back it up. 1st evidence is in kamar taj, when she's looking for someone she could influence, she's basically looking for the weakest link(that young trainee), Stephen knows this and tell Wong and Wong screamed "SORCERERS! FORTIFY YOUR MIND!". 2nd evidence, in WandaVision, it doesn't work for Agatha.
You mean Weasel? He was too scared so his mind became an easy target. Wanda can control anyone with a weak mind, sorcerer or not. The Masters of the Mystic Arts undergo physical and mental training, so most of us do have a mind that's stronger than average. Our Eldritch Magic also weakens if we lose our will to fight, that's why Wanda tried to scare us.
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✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
While there is extreme danger in doing so, it’s extremely powerful in practice, however I will not try this because the incomprehensible nature of the void of space makes me feel incredibly existential.
Note: this will not give you an eldritch blast in real life, it’ll probably just make you unhinged mentally
Onto the topic at hand, the abyssal energies come from space, but are often associated with the deep ocean because that’s the most comprehensible version of the abyss to non-astronauts, to those of us scared of deep water, just think of a sensory deprivation tank and form those thoughts into neutral energies and add entropic energy to the neutral energy either through two focal points or if you’re unskilled, use a symbol to concentrate one of the energies through, the best bet would be a sealing circle, to some the symbols inside matter, but if you just want a singular symbol or just a circle that’s up to you, but it must contain a form of either entropic or neutral energy to direct the former or latter on. The fusion is important, as is the thought process behind it, that being said, you must direct it back onto yourself so you may absorb it to be used later on, much like a battery, however, the battery recharges when you do, it is now stuck to you, a little piece of the cosmos at your disposal, use it before it grows.
Available on GMBinder and as a printable PDF
Art by Scott Harris, Marcel Mercado
A patron who wants to leave their physical trace on the world may grant a warlock the pact of the scribe, entrusting them with a strange symbol of occult power. Includes four new invocations for Pact of the Scribe warlocks..
