Yesterday, 12:56 PM
The glare coming from Oriena made him sigh inwardly, not alot he could do. And there wasn't a lot to talk about with a woman he hardly knew so when she lauched herself at the drawer and then at him with her rosary in his hands he was not only caught off guard by the wailing woman but he moved to get out of her patch and the chair screeched across the floor only to get caught in his movements and he tumbled backwards. A snap of wood sounding beneath him but he didn't have more time to reach before fits found his chest and one clocked him in the face before he could grapple her arms at the wrist and keep her from hurting herself more than him. He probably deserved the pummeling ten times over, but this was Oriena's mother and he didn't want her to hurt herself.
He took the hand with the rosary and the cross dangling from it and pressed it to his face. "I'm not a demon. No burning, no smell, no fire." He said calmly though his heart was pounding in his chest and the power was only a thought away, he hadn't lost his grip and it was suffused in the walls mending the weak points. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought with the woman and held the power. It wouldn't take much to let that control drift and let it carry him away into the afterlife. He'd thought about how easy it would be to draw upon the light and burn from the inside out. He let the power go -- and with it the temptation and the glorious power and sight with it. The world was dull and bland again, and the pain of the world settled in around where the euphoria had been. He longed for the numbing of the prior weeks, but he craved the power even more now than he had before. It was a dangerous slope.
He repeated himself again "Not a demon." He didn't say he wasn't possessed by one -- that would be a lie. The horde wasn't a demon, and it couldn't currently possess him -- at least it hadn't since he'd been healed, but that wasn't all that long ago. He didn't move but he held her wrists from him and herself. Waiting for her reaction, or Ori's or something. It was a very long few seconds of his life.
He took the hand with the rosary and the cross dangling from it and pressed it to his face. "I'm not a demon. No burning, no smell, no fire." He said calmly though his heart was pounding in his chest and the power was only a thought away, he hadn't lost his grip and it was suffused in the walls mending the weak points. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought with the woman and held the power. It wouldn't take much to let that control drift and let it carry him away into the afterlife. He'd thought about how easy it would be to draw upon the light and burn from the inside out. He let the power go -- and with it the temptation and the glorious power and sight with it. The world was dull and bland again, and the pain of the world settled in around where the euphoria had been. He longed for the numbing of the prior weeks, but he craved the power even more now than he had before. It was a dangerous slope.
He repeated himself again "Not a demon." He didn't say he wasn't possessed by one -- that would be a lie. The horde wasn't a demon, and it couldn't currently possess him -- at least it hadn't since he'd been healed, but that wasn't all that long ago. He didn't move but he held her wrists from him and herself. Waiting for her reaction, or Ori's or something. It was a very long few seconds of his life.
![[Image: nox_sig.gif]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/nox_sig.gif)