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"In some regards you'd be correct. In others? Hmmmmm~." Ishmael allows the topic to linger. Perhaps to draw greater introspection- for both of them. There was probably a hint of age difference that would've begged Ishmael to meet Isamu's ideology with that of his own. Ishmael was curious though he never really gives him more than enough to feed a growing appetite. A preview? "Nope. Not sharing one idea. I'm going to let you come-up with the ninety-nine ways up-and-down. Throw on some Velvet Rope and let Miss Jackson help you." Ha! Ishmael smirks, drawing a fine line; with his gaze, between the male and his cup of tea. He savored the last bit, tipping his head back as his bottom lip cradled the rolled rim. He looks down at Isamu before shaking his head. "You know what? I am going to call you 'Trouble' from now on."

Ishmael's gaze became earnest.

"You'd probably like my reasoning to be more succulent of a reason but I'm afraid my intentions were less." He smirked. His chin tips in the direction of Isamu's cup and there was a small blossom that sprouts on the outer wall of the cup. "One of my gifts is the blessings of Mother Nature. These were created to help introduce flora to help nourish ecosystems." He chuckled. "It's not to hover. I just have a very complicated relationship with the earth." Ishmael enjoyed this bout of conversation. Least Isamu kept him intrigued. He shook his head in disbelief. Seems like the viridescent-haired male was surely etching his name in stone. "I am a humble man. I don't need to brag. Serves very little purpose. Though, I truly am honored you'd take great consideration in me."

“You   should   know   better   than   anyone   that   there's   never   one   direct   or   clear   path   ahead.   That's   the   beauty   of   the   world   we   live   in   today.”   He   was   a   terrible   little   minx.   Most   people   feared   coming   on   too   strong   or   being   too   much   for   others.   Yet   Isamu   always   made   sure   to   lace   his   words   like   he   wanted   something   more   from   them.   That   was   if   they   piqued   his   interest.   Ishmael   had   definitely   done   that.   “While   true,   it   never   hurts   anyone   to   give   the   imagination   a   little   taste.   A   preview   can   last   for   weeks   in   the   mind   if   you're   determined   enough.”   Although   that   was   mainly   because   he   wanted   to   keep   the   other   in   his   mind   as   long   as   he   could.   This   conversation   would   live   on,   but   also   any   future   interaction   that   the   two   of   them   could   have   had.   “That   only   happens   when   I   see   something   that   I   like   and   I   only   speak   the   truth.”   He   wanted   to   set   himself   apart   from   the   others.   A   prideful   smirk   formed   on   his   face   when   he   heard   not   everyone   called   Ishmael   that.   Good. 

“My,   my,   my,   you   already   have   your   ways   to   keep   tabs   on   where   I've   been?   I   see   I   have   a   crafty   witch   on   my   hands.”   Again,   no   malicious   intent   was   laced   with   those   words.   If   anything,   it   was   more   so   a   compliment.   “That   works   for   me.   I'd   love   to   see   you   in   action   when   you're   looking   for   it.”   Now   he'd   just   need   to   make   sure   that   he   buried   the   cup   somewhere   more   private.   Isamu   already   began   to   narrow   down   the   locations   in   his   mind.   “You've   proved   to   be   quite   fun   in   this   conversation,   so   you   deserve   to   have   those   bragging   rights.” 

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"Sir~?" Ishmael attempts his hand at trying to control his volume. At first it was a little inquisitive as to the formality of this title. It changes, hinting at a bit of surprise as if the other had given a swift blow to the gut. "I'm not an old man, thank you." It was meant in light and levity. He took a swift inhale as he looked around to make sure he wasn't causing a scene. He gives them a gentle pat upon the shoulder as they'd embrace but it was pretty odd of an act to watch the other 'snuggle' while Ishmael; himself, was standing.

"Anywho. We should focus on other things before the phantom decides to visit again. We will honor Kawehi. No worries." A comforting pat is placed between Niimi's shoulder blades. "Now. Did you have a question about campgrounds or particular facilities?"

Niimi nods.

"Alright. Thank you, sir. I'll tread carefully."

They stand so they can slip onto the man's lap, squeezing him in a tight hug. They press their face into his neck and takes slow even breaths, letting the physical presence calm and ground him more.

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--i'll play catch-up either late late tonight or tomorrow. no promises tho

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"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?"

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"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?"

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"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.

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"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?"

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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."

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