Coming Full Circle

April 14, 2016:

For reasons he is reluctant to explain, Lichbane has led his friend Jesana back to the clearing in Delaware (where she, Zatanna and Fenris first met him), to tap into the residual necromantic energies there. It does not go according to plan…

The Dead Clearing - Delaware


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It is a cold night in the woods.

In a familiar, forested reserve in Delaware, Walker Beck — A.K.A. Lichbane — appears out of nowhere. His friend, Jesana Ravae — A.K.A. Coyote — is with him. Swaying a little on his feet, the necromancer puts away his pendulum and takes a moment to straighten his collar and tie.

"Travel via these extraordinary pendulums is slowly becoming less disorienting to me," he comments aloud. "Poor Crotchet, however, may take a little longer. The last time he threw up in my pocket."

The necromancer snorts.

"I still cannot wear that jacket."

The air is still. Silent. Not a bird nor a cricket makes any noise. The clearing before them appears untouched — by both the living and the dead — and the tree in the centre of it still looks like it has been struck by lightning.

Life itself feels reluctant to return to this place.

Jes covers a grin. She can imagine it's disorienting for the little guy. The first few times it had been for her too but she'd fast found she has a natural talent for it. "Give it to me when we get back and I'll clean it for you." She's good at making clothes last, at least in this manner. Sewing and cleaning and such.

She drops her hand and looks around with a frown, extending her senses outwards. "This seems wrong. Shouldn't some sort of recovery started after what we did? Even.. just a little. Grass patches, or insects. I don't hear or see anything."

"It was always a possibility," Lichbane replies as he takes a couple of steps into the clearing. "Cleansing the area as we did… after all the evil for which this was used. I am not surprised the wildlife have stayed away. Nature is not entirely forgiving."

There is a stirring in the trees as the two friends approach. Wisps of wind appear to brush past and coil about both Beck and Ravae — tentatively tugging at their clothes and limbs as if working out who (or what) they are.

A particular breeze that touches Ravae's face feels almost like the caress of chill-some fingers…

"Tell me of Darque," says Beck, without looking over his shoulder at Ravae. He sounds as if he were in a reverie of sorts — staring at the tree.

"He was a man once. One who wanted to ascend to godhood. He killed and took the power of others, growing stronger from their life-force. Not just people, he went after Gods and Godlings, those with power. He took Fenris. Locked him away and stole his Godhood." Jes's voice is filled with anger, and perhaps surprising or unexpectedly, guilt.

"We fought him and his minions for months and I killed and helped stop many of them but there were always more and I wasn't any help when Fenris was taken, or when they rescued him. I wasn't even there when he got finally got his power back, or during the final battle against Darque. If I had not.." Jes trails off and swallows. "I made a mistake. One that cost me a great deal. This wasn't the only place he damaged. The deadlands outside Metropolis.. a hundred square miles where life was completely obliterated. Entire towns, everything from the flowers to the bugs. And then, the dead rose and came for anything left. He grew very, very powerful before they finally stopped him. It was a long and hard fight. I don't think he would have stopped until the world was dead and then, I think he would have kept going until there was nothing left, anywhere."

"Dead places in the fields," Lichbane murmurs to himself, still not looking at Jesana as he speaks. "Dead spaces in the air." He just appears to stare at the ruined tree. "Even the Unquiet avoid them now…but there is still a kernel of power left behind."

And now he decides to turn his head and look at his friend.

"Only one who deals in death would be drawn to it — well. To want it. There is only so much I can do without taking more life, you know." He pauses to give a little shake of his head.

Jesana might feel the caress of the wind again, tugging at her hands like a child trying to lead her away. Beck does not appear to notice the wind. "This place…" Beck goes on to say. "Like so many others, represents everything that groups like Primal Force — like us — stand against. It reeks of Unlife. Not the 'in-between', but the 'eternally-denied'."

He pauses briefly.

"What is better, Jesana?" comes the question. "Taking life from the living, or denying the dead their rest? If you had to choose — murder or… damnation — which would you pick, to save the world?"

Jes is quiet for a long moment as she considers. This is not the time for a flippant answer or an untruth and Walker isn't someone she would give either to anyway. She feels the wind, the caress of so many fingers and hands, but simply ignores it. "I think, that there are some dead who don't deserve to rest."

The demigod pauses again, searching for the words to describe what she feels. "The human part of me also thinks that there are important differences when it comes to killing. To murder an innocent is a great wrong, a dark act, perhaps even evil. To kill one that murders those innocents, I don't think that is a bad thing. Not at all. To kill simply for sport or because you enjoy it, and not for food or in defense of yourself and others, that is also wrong. I enjoy the hunt, I enjoy the kill, it's true. But only when I hunt those I feel deserve such a thing. Then I have no mercy, no guilt. Neither does Coyote. We are a predator after all."

"As far as damnation goes, I can't help you there."

"It was something I worried over once but when I was in the Christain Hell I learned who and what I am and that, that place will never hold me. If I die before I succeed in my quest for immortality I may go to my Father's realm for a time, then again I might not because I chose Fenris. If my death is natural or in battle then Fenris will raise me as a shade to serve him before long anyway, if my Father chooses to leave me dead. If I die because I lose myself to the darkness, then Fenris will simply obliterate my soul. I won't care. I won't exist. For me the consequences aren't so dire. I have a.. friend. A human that I care deeply for. I am not willing to lose him and his life is at risk most of the time. So I've offered him a place in my Father's realm if he dies. If he went to Heaven I'd never see him again. That realm is denied me. If he went to Hell, well, I won't let that happen. I've been there. Even if he doesn't agree, I will steal his soul and take it there. I.. I am not always a good friend to have. I'm very selfish sometimes." She murmurs the last in a soft voice. "I don't know what gods you worship if any, Walker but I would make you the same offer, if it helps to set your mind at ease." He is also someone she doesn't want to lose. She's lost too many, too often and if her quest succeeds will lose many, many more.

"It explains much about this world," Beck remarks after listening to Ravae. "Even 'hell' is not simple; I doubt very much that 'heaven' is anything less than complicated." The century-old man lets out a snort and starts pulling off his gloves.

"About the only thing of which I am certain, is that 'heaven' in any form is denied me — ," and he looks at Ravae, half-smiling ruefully. "In that, we are much alike." He turns back to look at the tree again, and sticks his gloves into a pocket in his coat.

"I feel you…" he murmurs, clearly /not/ talking to Jesana. "Hiding in the wind. Lurking in the soil. Unquiet. /Unwilling/. You will serve. Or you will end."

The wind reacts to the necromancer's words, pushing past Jesana and Beck as if in anger. Now, however, it does not look like mere wind. There is form to it — vaguely reminiscent of something humanoid — and it turns to glare at them.

Lightning flashes over head, causing a rumble of thunder to follow soon after. The ghost-wind breaks apart into multiple wraiths, each one twisted in pale anger. Some of them… rush Jesana.

Jes frowns. This is the problem she has with religion. Walker is by her reckoning a good man. Sometimes good men must do bad things. He fought long and hard against Timat rather than let him gain control and wander loose in the world and he had not willing chosen to be possessed. That isn't something deserving of being punished.

Her musing is interrupted by Walker's voice, and then the anger of the wraiths. Her response is a soft sigh, and to lower her head with a pained expression. She trusts the man at her side, has told him more than most but there are some things, some shames that she'd rather not reveal. Being what he is it isn't likely she could hide this forever though and now… "Come. Defend." No guilt this time, merely acceptance a firm note of command.

A ghostly form coalesces in front of Jesana. It's monstrous and for all it seems spectral in nature, there's a strange solidity about the creature. It's large and dark in coloring, with glowing green orbs for eyes. More wolf than man, though it has a vaguely humanoid body. Fur, claws, large canines that drip foam and drool as the beast snarls in rage and crouches protectively in front of Jes. She won't interfere unless necessary. This is Walker's task and while the creature is bound to her and must obey, to have it attack would be exceeding the leeway Fenris has given her in this matter.

The wraiths charging Jesana veer to either side the moment the 'coyote spirit' manifests in front of her. Only a few of the spectres continue on course — to be consumed by Jesana's protector.

Beck smiles.

Glancing back at his friend, the necromancer's face shifts ever so subtly: his beard looks different (long and forked under his chin), his nose is longer and his eyes have make-up around them. More than that, he looks old… very, very old. Withered. Preserved, even.

For half a second the image is there — and then it is gone, and Beck looks normal again. He extends one taloned hand toward the tree, while the other hand floats away from his wrist and disappears inside his coat. When it emerges again, it holds a pommel of a cane or staff — just the pommel.

It is jet black and shiny, and carved in the likeness of the Sha — that jackal-esque creature that Set, Egyptian god of the dead, uses as his totem.

Beck's other hand flies away toward the destroyed tree, and lays hold of a single, long branch. The wraiths in the area go into a frenzy: some turn upon the necromancer, while others target Jesana and the coyote.

"Keep them off me!" Beck commands, his voice sounding strangely deep.

Jesana notices the change in Beck's appearance with a tingle of worry, her eyes focus on the symbol of the Egyptian God for a long moment before returning to the approaching wraiths. A single word, unfamiliar, her native tongue, but shouted with the tone of command and the Wolfish spirit in front of Jes springs to attack the wraiths.

Jes hurriedly ditches her clothing and weapons in favor of shifting to coyote form, instinctively feeling her odds of keeping the things back will increase if she uses her other half, the part of her that the talent to see and interact with such things springs from. Snarling, the coyote leaps into the fray, claws and fangs and even sheer bodily force being used to knock the angry souls back from her friend.


His teeth gritted, Beck's disembodied hand takes hold of the tree-branch as thin tendrils of sickly-green stab into the ruined tree over and over, leaving glowing runes and sigils upon the branch from one end to the other. Incantations in ancient Egyptian issue forth from his lips as if the very words had a life of their own.

And tendrils of phantasmic energy — the very souls of which scream in protest — gradually form a connection between the branch on the tree… and the staff-head in Beck's hand.

Shades converge on the Coyote, slashing, biting, spearing their limbs at her — even the ectoplasmic tatters of their 'clothes' are weapons — in a mad effort to end her.

And get to the necromancer.

Oddly enough, the shades do not leave physical injuries — pain, yes absolutely, pain — but no bodily wounds. The soul is another matter entirely. Fortunately, the Coyote's claws are more than capable of 'returning the favour'.

One spectre rises up out of the tree itself, and grins at Beck — it's face taking on the necromancer's likeness mere seconds before it lunges at the man's throat…

Some part of Jes is grateful for the fact she isn't bleeding from all the wounds. Pain she can deal with, these wraiths have nothing on some of the torture she's suffered through though Jes suspects they are aggravating the wounds to her soul. Control is going to be a bit sporadic at best over the next few days. Still, not a worry for her at the moment.

She must keep them back. Keep them away from Walker while he works and that is what she is going to do! Fangs dripping saliva, the large coyote throws herself into the spirit-battle with renewed frenzy. They cannot have her friend! She won't let that happen. The wolfspirit seems to care far less about what happens to Walker and is focused on keeping the wraiths off of Jes but the creature is helping by doing that nonetheless.

Bony fingers erupt from the ground underneath the Coyote, grasping at her paws and tail, her neck and muzzle — anything, everything. They twist and turn in ways that wrists and limbs should never, almost as if they were more like tentacles than animated bone.

The air turns cold.

Whatever is happening here, it is… reawakening the evil that had previously been purged from this place. Evil is returning to this clearing, drawn here by the magicks of necromancy like moths to a flame.

A shade wielding a scythe appears behind Jesana. Its arms raised high, more limbs appear to just unfold from its chest cavity like the legs of a spider — all reaching for her, for this delicious meal of soul-energy…

The spectre in front of Walker lunges for his throat — but instead of trying to strangle or slash at the man, the ghost /funnels/ itself through Walker's mouth despite his clenched teeth, and the necromancer starts to writhe and spasm in a frenzy. Something is horribly wrong. This is not how this night was supposed to go…

"You need me…" says a voice, so very old, so very evil, and speaking in English. Even Jesana would be able to hear it.

Jesana throws herself forward, rolling free of the grasping hands and whirling to face Walker, snarling in alarm and rage at the sound of the ancient voice. They most certainly do not need-holyshitthatthing! Brown eyes widen at the sight of the spirit entering Walker's mouth. She's seriously had about enough of these things and she can *feel* the darkness, the evil, coming back to this place.

They really need to be doing the opposite and Fenris is gonna be pissed. Jes pauses, unsure what to do and the large wolfish spirit she'd summoned surges forwards to protect her, rising on two large clawed feet to tear asunder wraiths with its clawed.. not quite hands, but not really paws either.

Jes knows the long battle Walker fought with this being before, knows about the coma he was in. She doesn't want that to happen again. Shifting back to human form, ignoring the shades, most definitely ignoring the pain, Jes stalks towards her friend. "Don't. You can do this, without him. I know you can Walker. You're strong enough. Now fight!" Her mind is already racing ahead, considering possibilities, ideas, scenarios. If this doesn't work, what next? What can she do? What should she do? At the same time, the demigod reaches for the wielder's scythe, grabbing the handle and attempting to wrest it free. She's held one before. She might be able to turn the tide here if she can get the damned thing.

Free of her immediate bonds, Jesana narrowly avoids the phantasmic scythe descending upon her. It rips into the ground, but not before slashing through some of the shades that had been attacking the demigod as well.

However, Ravae's choice to focus upon her friend and help him is not without cost. The shade behind her is not done and launches itself at Jesana's back, /spearing/ her with its spidery appendages in multiple places at once —

— moments before the wolfspirit makes a meal of the shade, leaving some of its spear-like arms still stuck in Jesana's body, but no long attached to their owner.

It is the sight of his friend so injured that spurs Walker Beck on. The spectre with his face has all but possessed him — but is not in control. Beck still looks like he is choking on something as he tries to bring his hands together…

And unite the branch with the staff-head.

"Not without me, Foolish One…" the sibilant voice whispers. "See how she dies? Poor coyote… she will feed the Unquiet for years. She perishes before you…"

Is he lying? The voice of Timat. Is Jesana really dying? Or just injured? Beck groans, trying to speak. "B-blood… Blood…" The branch on the tree begins to slowly break away…

Jesana snarls. "I may die..but it won't be to these bastards! Ignore him! and fight!" There's only so much pain Jesana is capable of shoving aside or down and ignoring before she reaches her limit, rather than succumb, and since this is a rather obvious threat to her life, the meddling on her mind shatters and Jes remembers her training.

The snarling subsides, the rage burning in the native American's eyes dies out and a calm blankness overtakes her face in its place. She might be in unimaginable pain at the moment, speared in half a dozen places by the last wraith but she doesn't feel it. She doesn't feel anything, at the moment and her goal is clear. Survive, make sure the necromancer survives and do not let him fall to the creature within. This Jes doesn't really care what happens, nothing matters to her beyond completing the mission but she still knows the other Jes will be very unhappy if they fail and that one will return the moment the mortal danger is gone. The wolfspirit slows and turns a massive head in Jes's direction, and it howls, a gut-wrenching sound of grief and guilt. Jes ignores it entirely, her eyes focused on Walker. Blood? She darts to her discarded clothing, not willing to use the scythe on herself, finds a dagger and dashes it across her palm before rising and leaping across the ground separating her from the necromancer. She has blood, what does he want her to do with it?

Beck struggles to move, but motions with a foot at the ground — indicating (hopefully) that blood needs to be shed. All the damage the spirits are doing is spiritual, not physical. This place is devoid of life, but there is life in blood…

"I WILL NOT WAIT FOR ANOTHER VESSEL TO FIND THE BANDS!!" the voice of Timat bellows into the night. It appears to come from everywhere and nowhere. Beck's arms spasm, his head thrown back as the spectre gains the upper hand.

In moments, there will be no more Walker Beck…if the angry undead here have their way. Jesana will feel her own energy waning, as if her very soul were bleeding. The shades around her gobble up the loose energy, while fighting off Jesana's guardian-spirit.

Beck looks at her and then at the ground. "Blood… magic. Help me…" he stammers. His flesh blackens, and the light in his eyes turns a dark purple. He is almost gone.

There are a lot of things that Jes would say right now if she hadn't shut off her humanity in order to survive. So it's probably a good thing she did because exactly none of them are something Timat would want to hear. What Jes does do is kneel in front of Walker, slice her other palm and press both hands to the dirt. Taking a guess, she starts making a circle of blood around the Necromancer while thinking. She can ignore any damage done to herself like this but the drain on energy, not so much. She'll be too tired to keep going soon and that isn't good. THe mission isn't done yet. How does she keep Timat from winning again? What if Walker fails? if this isn't enough? It would be so much easier for her if the otherself would just give up and exist like this all the time. Not caring, but then what would the mission be? Hm.. maybe the other self does have a purpose.. a soft sigh and Jes comes back to herself.

"OhholyshitthisfuckinghurtsI'mgonnakillyou." It's not really clear who she's talking to as Jes reaches up and grabs Walker's shoulders, pulling herself shakily to her feet. She takes one look at him and her reaction is sheer panic. She can't remember the past few moment's doesn't know what happened or why her hands hurt. Or her blood is in a circle all around them, she also doesn't care. Timat is winning, at least that's what it looks like to her. "NO!" That can't happen, if Timat is in control, then Walker will be gone and Jes isn't willing to lose anyone else. "Let him go or I'll take those fucking bands and throw them into the deepest lava pit I can fucking find!" Only, that would probably kill Walker so it isn't really a possibility-what can she.. Jes quiets and blinks once.

She has no idea if this will work, doesn't know if it's even possible or if it does work, Walker will forgive her for it. Let alone what Fenris will say. It is however the only thing that occurs to her. "You can't have him cause he's MINE." Jes reaches out with her power, reaches right into Walker grasping at his soul, slamming one hand over her feather tattoo and one over his chest, both still covered with blood. If she can link them, claim some bit of his soul, at least, if not all of it.. then Timat will still be there but he won't win. And Walker won't die. Or be lost. She can bind them together and link his fate to hers. Not quite the purpose intended for her new ability but well, when has she ever cared about rules or what's possible. She does as she wills and by all that she is, Jes wills for this to work. Timat can suck it!

"What are you doing?!"

That is Timat.

"What are you doing?! Get away from there! Get away from him! Cursed, coyote spawn!! Away! May the maggots of Set fill your mouth and feast on your eyes for all eternity! May your flesh rot from your bones and be the pyre on which your soul BURNS! Desert-sands take your fluids and give them to the Sha-whelps! GET AWAY FROM HIM!!!"

While the Ancient One rages, the demigod's life-blood sinks down into the lifeless soil around the necromancer — her friend — in a perfect circle. Circles have such power in magic (in all things, but magic especially). Unity, solidarity, protection, commitment, the very cycle of life itself…

And this clearing has been devoid of life — real life — since it was last touched by a necromancer.


It is interesting — ironic, even — that an infusion of life should be the salvation of one who deals in Death… for powers such as Walker Beck's can only TAKE. Never GIVE. It is the blood in the ground that gives Beck what he needs to truly contend with the spectre trying to own his soul…

But it is the mark of the feather (and its strong tie to Jesana) that saves him from Timat. Smoke rises from the circle of blood around Walker and he lifts his gaze heavenward. The colour returns to his flesh and the light in his eyes changes back to the usual green-gold unholy radiance most often associated with him.

The ring of blood bursts into flames, and with it — the spectre. At the same moment, the branch of the tree snaps off and collides with the obsidian Sha-head in Beck's other hand.

And the flames of life wash over the two friends, burning away the ghosts around them…

Jesana stands, barely, swaying on her feet. She'd listened to Timat's raging absently, some tiny part of her mind still amused even amidst the panic and then focus required for what she'd done. She remembers now, her father mentioning another way to give someone one of her feathers, and that it would have unexpected consequences should she decide to do it. She has no idea if this is what he meant or something she came up with all her own. She's pretty sure there will be consequences though. She's also pretty sure she doesn't care, unless one of them is Walker hating her. Because it looks like it worked. Or some combination of things have."

It suddenly occurs to Jes she's standing naked in front of her friend, clinging to him. Maybe it won't occur to him. Really, this isn't the time for that kind of thinking… how much blood did she lose? Not that much right? Jes shakes her head and almost falls over. "Whoa. Um. Hi." She slowly peeks up at Walker to see what his reaction will be. "I um.. might have panicked a.. little.. okay a whole fucking lot but uh.."

"You have not heard the last of Timat, Bane of the Living, Enthraller of Worms…" Timat menaces both Walker and Jesana as his voice fades. "There will be a reckoning. What you have begun here, cannot…"



And the voice is gone.

Walker lies upon the ground where the circle of blood had been. He looks weary — beyond weary — but alive. There are some noticeable changes about his appearance, however:

There is grey in his black beard.

His skin is more leathery.

He now has a feather-tattoo upon him. His hands… are not attached to his body, but rather lie, palm-upwards, fingers curled up (like dead spiders) on the ground some feet away. Next to one of them is the staff that Walker had been trying to make — his reason for coming here, although he never said /why/ it was important in the first place.

Slowly, he pushes himself up onto his elbows, at which point he notices Jesana's nakedness, and… his cheeks fill with colour. Without warning, both his hands suddenly spring to life and fly across to Jesana in an attempt to cover her breasts.

This is probably a reflex reaction, and had his hands been attached to him, he would likely not have responded in this manner. As it happens, it must look like a pair of dishevelled spiders just leapt at the woman's chest…

Hardly comforting.

Jes sits rather heavily, next to Walker and then glances down and eyes the hands trying to cover her with.. not amusement, or anger, or even surprise. Just a kind of "okay. This is a thing that's happening right now" kind of exhausted acceptance. After everything else, it's either too much to be bothered by or perhaps, too little and Jes turns her attention back to Walker. Eyeing the change in his skin with worry she wonders if she can fix it that but definitely not here. There isn't much power to draw from the earth in this place. Not without going deeper than she has the energy to reach at the moment.

It feel like her very soul hurts. Everywhere. And the parts that were already injured are.. worse? That's.. not a good thing. Nothing to be done about it though so Jes pushes that worry aside. "Are you okay? I mean.. maybe not okay but.. are.. oh hell." She doesn't even know what to ask. Or maybe she does but is too afraid. What she just did isn't really the kind of thing you do to someone, certainly not a friend and most definitely not without their permission. Jes isn't even sure how she did it. The Wolfspirit returns from a quick patrol of the area, stares at Jes for a moment and then starts dragging her clothes and weapons over.

Walker sits up, his face now beetroot-red and summons his hands back to his wrists — but also gives a tired wave so that Jesana has some clothes to wear:

A robe of solid ectoplasm — it'll serve like any fabric, for a while at least. Then… unfortunately it will turn into slime. The man draws up his knees and rests his elbows upon them, his head hanging forward as he concentrates on his breathing.

From the staff beside him, one can hear the sound of souls faintly screaming — it is the ghosts that Walker had been able to trap within it. "I am… I will be alright," he replies in a murmur. "In time. I… was unsure how this venture would end, but I had to do… something." He takes a deep breath and looks up at Jes.

"I will explain properly, I promise, just… not here. I… do not wish to lay eyes upon this place again." He watches the wolfspirit bring Jes's clothes over and 'ahs' with a nod. The constructs he just made for her will not be necessary — which is good, as slime is…


"You heard him, did you not?" he asks her after a while.

Having been slimed and not eager to do it again, she'd rather go naked and switch back to coyote, only Jes is a little tired and not quite thinking.. she looks relieved when the spirit arrives with her clothes and scrambles into them before answering. "Who Timat? Yeah. I did. Kinda funny. He can rant all he wants he's not getting w-…" Jes trails off and this time she flushes.

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here." Is what she says instead. At least Walker's still talking to her. Maybe he doesn't even know what she did.. Oh Fenris. How can she explain when she doesn't even know and oh shit. Fenris. "Like really, right now. Almost anywhere but here.." Jes grabs her daggers, jams her gun into a pocket and reaches for Walker's hand. "Go home." She tells the wolf-thing. The first place that occurs to her is the Den, it'll be easy enough to get from there to anywhere else Walker might want so that's what she does, pulls them across the lines and into the room with the hotsprings.

Shuddering, Jes looks around and sighs. Several oil lamps light the stone room and its much warmer. Hot water bubbles up and over the wall into a second spring that drains out into a creek that flows into the next room and there's plenty of towels, robes and extra sweat shirts and pants on a shelf along one wall. Glass bottles of soaps and shampoos too. "You want to go home? I just.. I wanted away from there too and it's safe here."

Back by the hotsprings of his friend's 'personal dimension' — Giizhigong — Walker lets out a sigh of relief. Normally he is more comfortable around Death: graves, crypts, the Sleeping Ones… but after the ordeal just past, this makes for a refreshing change.

As if in answer to Jes's question, Walker sways on his feet and promptly sits down, his staff clattering to the ground beside him. "I think… I need…" he tries to say, but talking proves too difficult. The man's eyes rolls back in their sockets, and he topples backwards — unconscious.

But alive.

A rest would do him good.

For an instant — just an instant — Beck's face shifts to something much closer to that of Timat's… and then it returns to normal. As normal as anything can be, at least.

"Nice try asshole. But he's mine now. I'll fight you for all of time if I have to." Jes glares, only quieting when Walker's face returns to normal. She crawls over and washes her hands in the stream then scoots back across the floor and puts her hands on Walker's chest. Maybe it's better he's unconscious for this. She's not sure how pleasant it'll feel. That thought cheers her a bit because Timat is definitely not gonna like it when she draws power up from the earth, very easy for her to do here, and sends it into her friend, hoping to heal any damage and give back some energy. Maybe, return his skin to normal. She's not really sure how to do that but its never stopped her before. With magic and power, and especially her own, Will counts for alot. Jes is just as tired though and before very long the flow of power fades to a trickle and then stops altogether and she slumps over across Walker, going from a dead feint into a deep sleep.


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