counselor;;QUEER | 34 " Please. My mama used to pray to protect the innocent and the weak. Some things won't change. I just ask The Creator to keep me meek. " CLOSED TO HAUNTSHQ RP
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
"I am confused as to the origin and truth of the eidolon but not the person that the phantom represents. I honor and respect Kawehi's memory. You also have to consider the source." Ishmael wasn't oblivious that it could've been as obvious of an answer as 'yes, this was a traditional spirit stuck on our side of the veil with unfinished business' but there was also, 'it is a vengeful presence tempting to lure witches to a fatal end'.
"You always tread lightly when dealing with spirits and tangible energies. I'd have to do a bit of my own clarity to further discern." He looked back at Niimi. "We'll address this all at the first coven meeting."
Niimi sips the tea, feeling the hot beverage slide down their throat. It helps to ground them in their body, to feel the physical state they're in.
They are here. They are now.
They look up and smile at the man's words.
"Do you know what's happening, Ishmael? Or are you as confused as the rest of us?"
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
"This all gets a little heavy when we grow in our abilities, remember? Even while we're still learning to master them. Even if it doesn't, we'll learn to adapt and manage with it. It indeed shall pass." In a very inclusive, overarching way, Ishmael referenced the entire experience. The reasoning why this camp was so important for those expanding in their abilities. When outside methodologies didn't resolve their challenges. He would never argue the point that they all surrendered to the consequences of gathering in such great numbers. But it was evident. He'd also never internalize the flaws of some group that sought to hunt them. At least, he tried.
"Oh. I'm sure Nana would appreciate the compliments. I can't take the credit for her creation." Ishmael smiled, dotting on the fondness of those memories of watching the woman whip up a series of confections. The tea was just one of the easier and quicker things to produce in such a large quantity. He couldn't dwell on it too long due to Arthur's question drawing him back into reality. He withdrew his gaze from the number of campers that passed them by and he chose to answer honestly, openly, and fully transparent. "I am unsure if we'll ever be enough but I'll be damned if I don't exhaust every single tool within my wheelhouse to make sure they ever question the danger of fucking with us." He meant every word. "Not while I have even a speck of life within my body. That is my declaration. That is my decree."
"It's happening again, isn't it?" Arthur wanted to say, but he didn't want to taint Ishmael's kind gesture. Even more so, Arthur didn't want to taint Kawehi's memory as well by planting seeds of panic into everybody at camp. He brought his hands around the cups of tea, taking a moment to just hold the hot beverage in his hands. Arthur inhaled the pleasant scent of citrus, taking the scent to help ground him to the conversation with the counselor.
"This too shall pass." Arthur nods calmly before bringing the cup of tea to his lips, sipping the herbal brew. With the light earthen taste pulls a hum from Arthur's lips. He relaxes his shoulders as he continues, "I should get that tattooed somewhere one of these days." He offers a soft chuckle before taking another sip of tea. "Thank you again, the tea is really sating."
"Your own recipe?" Arthur quirks a brow. As much as Arthur was trying to carry an honest conversation with the fellow witch, Arthur himself had an accidental habit of diverting a conversation. Perhaps the heaviness of the events that had passed, Arthur found himself voicing his thoughts out loud in a low tone full of doubt. "What if I'm not enough to protect them?"
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
"A couple different directions, egh?" We have a live one on our hands- a live wire, so to speak. To ask for elaboration while action on collaboration would've spelled for quite an adventure between them. An electrifying one. Ishmael could've captured Isamu in a dense web that was woven by the tantalizing arts that imagination and experience could only illustrate. "I am not one to boast about those things. The 'fun' is letting the imagination roam and getting the chance to surpass expectation." He chuckled to himself. That much was clear as the nonverbal signs were all there. The thoughts were as many as the day was long. He sucks air through teeth and the compressed vessel of his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He wasn't distracted nor distant. He was ever present. "You know. For someone who isn't exactly forward, you are very bold. And no one's called me adorable since I was four." Ishmael's smile is consumed by a partial grin. One that was be obvious that he now knew they were neither standing solidly or even teetering on the idea of meditation. Not in the traditional, base sense of the act.
I'd probably break this one. "No need to tell me where. I'll know." Most probably would've flashed a hint at their craft. Maybe to earn a few points to stroke their own egos. "But if it serves the same, I'll take you to the exact spot you've placed it." Ishmael greeted some of the other campers who wished for a physical map and to venture on their own. He removes the folded pieces of paper from his cargo pockets and offers them. Once they leave, he returns his focus to Isamu. "I'm also honored that I'd be first to know."
he didn't have to be a psychic to see some of the paths that ishmael was hinting to. they were forming as different thoughts in the green-haired witch's brain. most were mutually pleasurable or pleasant and he didn't see the harm in exploring any of them. if someone were to ask him though, isamu would have said he didn't mind exploring anything with the man in front of him. maybe it was the tea talking, but he just had this unwavering faith that he was in good hands. if anything, the techo witch was the one that was going to be the bad influence. “you're right. which ways are you thinking of? in my head i do see a couple of different directions, but i like all of them so i want to make sure that we're on the right page.” even if they weren't, there was still time to get on the same page. as much as the brew was working overtime to soothe his nerves, it was also igniting other ones. it sparked them awake and he had more energy than when he first started the conversation.
“like i said, i never want to be the reason something doesn't work for you or that it blows up in your face. maybe for others, but you've touched my soft spot so i want to make sure i stay out of your hair if you don't need distractions. although, i still would like to join you wherever and whenever someone is welcomed to.” just because he was respectful didn't mean that he was entirely backing off. a smile formed on his face. “biodegradable? you're adorable if no one has told you that yet.” he started to scan the camp grounds almost as if to spot a good place to plant it. “i'll make sure to tell you where i put it. it'll be our little secret.” the man's thought process on calling the meeting was very valid. isamu just didn't know if he was the go getter they all needed. he was a little too chaotic to stay on topic most times. “maybe it'll give me a kickstart to becoming a counselor. tell you what, when i figure out a time and a place, you'll be the first person that i invite. how does that sound?” isamu poured himself another, but only filled the cup halfway this time. he didn't want to take it all from ishmael.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Mhm. Comin' right up." There was a sudden urge of gratitude for the male's request. Anything to keep him busy. To keep that energy that seemed to encircle and ensnare most of the camp should they be aware and present. Ishmael tapped the red-rim paper cup with a pretty little tulip dotted along the belly of it's basin. Offered the brew.
"It's alright to not be okay with any of this. Even if we become familiar with it, don't become desensitized. After all, it's your connection to this world." He chuckles at the reminder that he sounded more like an aging man trapped in a druid's path.
"Yup. Lodges are just south of...," The chill that caresses his spine draws his stance to grow rigid. Ishmael's eyes- while transfixed on the soft gleam of the map upon his screen, feint concentration. His brows twitched. His fingers clench as the urge to focus on the presence. One hand relinquishes the side of the tablet to fiddle with the refined piece of obsidian- a gift from his friend they'd lost far too soon. Goosebumps start to forge a line along the nape of his neck.
"I-." Ishmael swallowed heavily. Eyes follow the direction to which he points before Kawehi's manifestation disperses. A weak sigh escapes him as the familiar feeling of regret and grief tugs at him. He sought necessary distraction; if at the very least, for a moment.
Reminds himself to honor the witch at midnight.
"Blessed be." Ishmael takes a moment to address the growing crowd. Perhaps it was his way to settle the sudden rise in tension. Perhaps to settle his own mind. The soft hazy glow of his screen fades as the backlight turns off. He gifts a gentle smile to those who'd accept it. "Peace be upon thy anxious soul." He chuckled, finding comfort in one of his mother's many homilies. "Tea?"
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Likewise. Understandably so, emotions were sure to surge. Some where as obvious as the distinct display that plagued quite a few of the counselors and those campers that were familiar with Kawehi. He wasn't sure how to truly approach those we felt the emotional distress that grief loved to tamper. His eyes departing from many faces to give them a moment to steel themselves in their emotions. Perhaps to offer them a moment with their own pride- careful not to invade or dismiss their imperative needs to nurse their own emotions. To navigate them. Once he was satisfied with the shift in energies, he allows his gaze to befall Arthur.
"It is alot to handle. Being reminded of the times. Just try to remember that all things that come to pass can not remain hidden." He avowed. He tapped into some of the many prolific and profound gems that his Nana planted in him from a young boy. "Its going to be one 'ell of a season. That's for sure." He braced, pouring him a glass of the citrus, herbal brew and lets the aroma do the talking. It's rich depth was potent and provocative, alluring every aspect of one's sense of taste and smell. The tender care for his steep; hopefully, would ease the growing anxiousness that was granted to them all by the eidolon of their friend. "I know you're well aware but if you need a moment to regroup, do so. I don't want you all to be uncomfortable because emotions are difficult to navigate. Even for us."
A wave of goosebumps riddle the witch's skin as he hears the apparition's wailing before dispersing in front of them. Arthur's bright blue eyes, puffy and glossed over from tears that the witch was attempting to hold back. He swallows a pained and flat smile, returning the fellow counselor's gentle smile. Arthur wasn't much of a conversationalist, but when he got to talking, it was often something verbose yet casual.
He supposes it came from his early years as a counselor, his desire to educate young witches like himself. Wanting that knowledge to foster growth in not just the young witches' numbers, but the young witches' esteem. Seeing Kawehi's spirit manifest itself to the campers and counselors, caused all but Arthur's skin to sink down into the deepest part of his stomach.
"Blessed be." He manages to say through a rough and stressed throat. Arthur turns his head, scanning their surroundings, hoping to catch another glimpse of Kawehi, hoping their was more he could do to help their would be fellow counselor. He clears his throat. "I would love some tea. Thank you."
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Oh, well now~," Ishmael's features seemed to spring to life: animated in the sense that he was quite beguiled by Isamu's sudden charge. To think. The other was quite confident in his stance. While Ishmael wasn't exactly an immovable object, he was fortified in his experience and rooted in his personal practice. He pours himself another cup from the spigot; for the road, and leaned on it. His weight anchored in his heels as he used the thermos as the other balance point. He furrowed a lone brow as he studied Isamu once more. A soft groan escapes; much like an elder caught in the distinguished line between interactions with the physical and those within the mind. "There can be many different directions this conversation...well, contextually speaking, could venture." Ishmael allows his fingers to usher the paper cup to his lips and he'd welcome a soft pull of the sharp zing of the ginger's spice to wake as many of his tangible senses as possible.
"Not quite sure which direction you're angling. I'm not opposed to being joined but I'd rather avoid any mishaps. Meditation? That's different, however. Feel free to join if ever I'm not surrendering myself to the elements, stark-naked." He chuckled. His chin tips in Isamu's direction. "Also. Don't throw that cup away. It's been made with biodegradable elements that will enrich the soil. Plant it somewhere cute." He shifts direction. "You're calling us to gather. Not leading it. There's the difference. When one witch beckons audience, we respect that. We should respect that. We leave the interpretation and guidance to the one with more experience and age." He nodded. "Besides, you might get some brownie points from someone who wants to take a liking to you." Husky chuckling ensued. "It is nice to have at least one companion to share your tantric energies with. Never know what magic will result." He gestured down to the spout. "Help yourself to more if you'd like."
"hey, a man's gotta ask. one thing i learned is that you can never be too careful around these parts." people had a lot up their sleeves. there was something about ishmael that felt like home though. isamu couldn't really pinpoint what, maybe it was just his own gut saying that he could drop his guard down around the other man. whatever it was, it made him relax before he even took a sip of the tea or smelled the brew. speaking of which, he finally did bring it up to his lips to enjoy the substance as much as possible. he made sure to leave enough so that he could keep on savoring it time to time, but he did make a pleasant sound as it first went down his throat.
it was in that moment that he realized he would just let himself go with the flow when it came to ishmael. the man spoke with such wisdom that it was hard not to focus. “sometimes distractions are needed though. meditation is all about relaxation, or connecting to your spiritual self, right? who knows, maybe that other someone will be what helps soothe your body.” he held his up with one hand only so his right hand can move forward and give the other's bicep a gentle squeeze. “what if you find someone that can distinguish those exact things. would you be more open to it?” not that he wanted to interrupt a man and his mediation, but he was curious. “i'll make sure your heart is always in the right place then.” isamu smiled as he took another sip. that gave him some time to ponder the other's idea. “shouldn't that be a counselor's job? i fear if i do it, they're going to think i'm trying to form an uprising.” which he might have. it really depended on the time of day and his mood in the moment. “i'll think about it.”
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Calling them ghosts makes it sound like we live in Party City. Spirits. Eidolons. Specters-," Ishmael couldn't continued. Grind it further into the ground. Thankfully, his own partial awareness to deny the need of his ability to bore someone prevailed. He chortled. Almost cackling like a hysterical crow. Though, his own sense of humor kept him entertained the most. His eyes drift toward the sky while his head remained still. He couldn't deny the interest, concern, and consideration of Wu. It felt as if he was genuinely worried about the man. He shook his head. His hand rests upon the bounds of his shoulder and he gave a very gentle squeeze and shake, shifting Wu where he stood. It was like a subtle rocking motion.
"I'm fine. I promise. If we aren't moved by such forces, are we even still living?" It was a true question that required no answer. Just a think-piece. One provoking his own thoughts and Wu's. Besides, if he'd really been moved to a point of such disturbance, he'd need to retire. "Hmm. I think it's best we do give greater number to those still making their way around the camp. Gives us a chance to survey." Ishmael chuckled to himself. "Don't expend all your energy on me, Wu. Could be quite taxing." He chuckled. "Like a honeybee to nectar. Succulent, stick, and sweet." Speaks to himself but shamelessly makes it so Wu definitely could hear. Sheepishly lets his attention stray.
ㅤㅤㅤ"And what would you call them?" Wu You asks, watching Ishmael carefully. All their years of friendship had made him rather fond of the burly witch. Sixteen summers had past since Wu had stepped into camp and since then he had became a counselor. Since Ishmael's arrival they had became quick friends and he found the man's presence a comfort. So when something disturbed or upset him he took extra care to remedy the situation. There was little that couldn't be solved by magic or fire, in Wu You's case.
ㅤㅤㅤWu lifts a cup so he can fill it. He sips and allows the tea to wash over his limbs, smiling at the taste and sensation. "Something tells me this year is going to be quite odd." Wu mulls over his thoughts aloud as he finishes his cup. He gives Ishmael a respectful nod of his head and a courteous smile. "Did you intend on continuing the tour?" Wu was fine to keep going. Hopefully now that Ishmael had a moment to gather his thoughts they could continue on as a pair. "If you're too shaken I can walk you back to my cabin. It's close."
28 notes
·
View notes