ritual and reason

Devlin Burroughs Coven Leader - Circle of Nightfall (Closed blog for Five Points. Not associated with the faceclaim. Mature content.)

[devlin-burroughs]

wildmansoul‌:

There was a small tingle at the nape of his neck at the praise, ”I’ll gladly help when needed and, well, I made a mess when I tried to update the archiving system and of course intend to take care of it,” he said sheepishly.

His eyes found the Reverend again as he shifted, at ease and pose relaxed, he wished he could mirror him but his shoulders remained tense, alert. He glanced towards the terrarium before his gaze sunk down with a small chuckle, no pressure.

He wet his lips, unconsciously reached for the beads hanging around his neck only to find the fabric of his scarf, he hadn’t worn the mala since he got back, “I read manuscripts as old as the Vedas, poems, tales, mantras, mudras, rituals, never heard anywhere but on that mountain. But they are esoteric for a reason, to protect the practitioner, the integrity of the teachings, if not practiced properly they could cause physical or mental harm,” he let his hand drop to his lap, he wasn’t sure how much of it they could use in the valley, “I’ve been translating the copies I brought back, the ones I shower you, but they are not only written in Vedic Sanskrit but in a twilight language as well. I can interpret some of it but I’m going to have to reach to my contacts to get a better understanding,” surely the concepts of transforming reality, a skillful method to ultimate truth interested the Circle, for him it had been an afterthought.

Devlin tried not to flinch on hearing the archives were in disarray, instead nodding and passing on confidence in the man. “I’m sure you will take care of it. If you feel you need help, please ask. I’ll make sure whatever is needed will be at your disposal.”

His gaze slipped to the man’s fingers toying with the beads. Still nervous, although it was evident by the way he spoke that Eli’s knowledge of these things outside the coven ran deep. The Circle wasn’t as orthodox as the Church of Dark. Devlin wanted his members to contribute in their own ways, even if it might be outside of his own sphere. “Your contacts.. back on the mountain?” He questioned and then leaned forward intently.

The Reverend was a healer, like his father before him. And his grandmother, and various other Burroughs’ previously. The energy coming off the younger warlock was gentle, but intense. In pieces-- some glittering like gold, others burnt around the edges. 

As much as he wished to fit those shattered fragments together, healers were only guides. “The strength of the Circle is the diversity of the members. The various pathways of experience which have led us to a singular spot. I think you have potential to introduce all of us-- myself included --to ideas which will only help the coven grow.” He paused to search the man’s aura in hopes his point was getting across. “You have a lot of knowledge within you, Eli. Please do not hesitate to bring me your ideas, your thoughts on these experiences you’ve brought back to the valley with you.”

[devlin-burroughs]

wildmansoul‌:

“Of course,” he said with a small apologetic nod towards the familiar, “I understand.” He let Devlin take a seat first before following. He was dressed in a simple earthy black shalwar kameez with an off-white linen scarf draped over his shoulders. He swallowed after the considering once over he received.

It had been too good. The job at the archives, the lack of consequences, no one had really even talked with him about it and he hadn’t dared to ask. Maybe this would be the time the rug was pulled out from under his feet.

He forced himself to relax, pulled a small smile onto his lips, “I’m good, I’m glad to be working at the academy, it’s not something I ever thought possible for me,” his gaze focused on Devlin for a moment before flittering away once more, “I’m of course grateful for the opportunity to work in the archives as well, even for the short time,” a genuine smile, it was all true, still it was a shallow answer.

A tight restricting feeling rose to his chest. Communicate more openly now, Devlin wanted to keep an eye on him. He could feel the uncomfortable crawl of anxiety in his limbs that just told him to run. He was afraid, both of being asked to leave and being told he couldn’t. “You are a busy man, I understand that,” a pause, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“I’m certain you will do just as well at the Academy as you did with the archives. However, I’ve asked the archivist to call on you as needed, if you allow it. I will leave the decision to you.” The man was one who could easily fly under the radar but Devlin recognized him as something other. A free spirit in the truest sense. People such as Eli tended to do best with loose boundaries and the freedom to stretch themselves, to explore.

But not to leave the valley the way he did. 

At the same time Devlin wanted to move on and not dwell on the point as it served no purpose now. The man held himself tense and strict as if he were hung in a closet on a hanger still wearing the handsome, traditional attire. The younger warlock went through the motions. And Devlin tapped his fingers a few times on the stiff leather upholstery of the couch. Maybe Devlin had chosen the wrong setting for them to talk. 

“I’m busy, yes. Never too busy to chat.” He didn’t just ask the man to meet him about the healing center. “For instance.. the journey you have been on. Did you find anything that might be beneficial here. In the community with the coven, or even personally. I would like to hear what you found. Honestly. Speaking as two men and not with jobs and positions otherwise defining us. Only as fellow warlocks. Or even beyond.” 

He leaned back with an ankle crossed at the knee. The leader felt Cornelius’ muscles uncoiling, sliding under scales, moving into a less defensive position. “My familiar is interested in hearing you. We both are.”

[devlin-burroughs]

wildmansoul‌:

There was a heavy anticipation deep within him as he approached the Reverend’s office. The man had a presence, knowing eyes and an easy smile. The kind of man who commanded respect by just standing in a room. There was a tickle in the back of his mind that reminded him he was exactly the kind of man he should beware of since inherently, helplessly, he was the kind of man he was drawn to.

The office doors opened before him and the breath caught high in his throat as he stepped over the threshold to be met with the coven leader’s gaze. “Of course, Reverend,” he replied with a slight bow of his head. He stepped in further, eyes sweeping over the space curiously, he had spoken with the man before but never here.

He took a step towards the indicated sofa but his gaze lingered by the Reverend, on the terrarium. He nodded towards it, “May I?”

As Eli spoke the maraca shake of Cornelius’ tail sizzled loud, alarmed. Devlin’s demeanor did not change. “Let’s give him a moment to warm up. We have been together a long time, and he’s protective. Do not take it personally. He prefers to get to know you from a distance at first.” With a gentle nudge the rattlesnake slithered into the warmth of the terrarium. 

Devlin took a seat on the couch and rested an arm along the top edge, his body angled in the direction of Eli. He scanned the man from head to toe with the barest of patient smiles. “I asked you here to talk about the healing center. But before we discuss it-- how are you doing? How are you feeling about being back in the valley, with us?” 

Eli’s departure was unusual. Devlin had thoughts on more than one occasion that he had been too lenient in allowing the warlock back. The man was bright, curious, deeply passionate in a quest for knowledge. That was obvious, that was his strength in the coven. 

But would he stay, or choose to leave again? “We’ve never really talked much, have we? I apologize. I’d like us to.. be able to communicate more openly now. If you like.” 

[devlin-burroughs]

@wildmansoul

The silken scales of Cornelius glided between large palms. Muscle enveloped and pretzeled upwards along Devlin’s forearm with each kink of the snake’s body holding on gently, a little possessively. Oblong pupils minutely adjusted under the coven leader’s gaze and soft smile. A forked tongue flicked over vibrations in the air. “Eli is here...” 

The door of Devlin’s office swung slowly open before the other man could reach it, an invitation to come in as the Circle’s leader waited by the terrarium for his familiar to slowly coil back into the heat. “Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry it has taken so long to have this chat. Please...” With a motion he nodded to the leather sofa in his office. 

[devlin-burroughs]

valko-rathmore‌:

mama-o-connor‌:

She adjusted her shades at the treeline, waving her maiden on duty away. So cautious. So timid, this new generation, as if witch and warlock hadn’t been at war for as long as someone to go up against.

“Mama O’Connor likes to make a grand entrance. Come, let’s not disappoint her.”

Well, with an invitation like that… “My dear Mister Burroughs, now you’re just exaggeratin’.” She stepped forward, mindful that the lace trim didn’t get caught on any stray branches, pausing before the tent entrance and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you gentlemen are gonna keep the lady waitin’.”

If they were going to kill her, they would have already done so. She was the Mother. Death held few unknown fears. It were the living she had an eye out for now.

The seat towards the side, at the corner; that would do. Her hummingbird familiar flitted in, hovered at her shoulder before dipping down to examine the glasses set out. She arranged herself just so, then stopped, a hand at her throat.

“My ‘pologies, it’s Reverend Burroughs now, ain’t it? Meant no disrespect. Time does fly on by, don’t it?”

@valko-rathmore​?

One minute in and so far all the three of them were still alive. Valko wasn’t sure if he should attribute that the peace treaty or the fact that it wouldn’t be nearly so theatrical as having someone keel over at the table. A frown creased his face, a deep wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows, as he stumbled across the grass toward the tent. The soon they sat down, the sooner this would all be over. He had a nice bottle of wine waiting for him at home.

Inside the tent, Nostradamus scampered toward the side corner toward the hummingbird, knocking over a sugar bowl when he jumped off the table. Then the fat raccoon scurried past Mama’s chair, and wriggled underneath the side of tent to freedom. Valko didn’t even bat an eye. He took a seat on the opposite side. He righted one of the teacups, and reached for a small cake. He wasn’t really hungry.

Whatever pleasantries they wanted to engage in - however questionably pleasant they were - that was their business. Valko let them get on with it. He had nothing to say. After pouring a few sips’ worth of tea in his cup, he retrieved a flask from the inside of his jacket and topped off the cup until the liquid had nearly gone over the brim. He capped the flask, and silently offered it first to the Reverend.

@devlin-burroughs

“Miss O’Connor, we all know I speak only the truth.”

As congenial as his reply was Devlin didn’t have time for quips and camouflaged barbs. Judging by the negotiations for the treaty these would be on hand regardless, laid out like the food on the table. The coven leader took a seat and swept from the table a greedy raccoon paw print in a dusting of sugar. Luckily he took his tea without anything sweet. 

He waved off the offer of a flask from the Church of Dark leader with a polite smile. Devlin had known Mama O’Connor for decades. Roots of his family tree were shared with the Saints. Not that it made them family, mind you.

Valko Rathmore on the other hand appeared... less impressive. But looks could be deceiving, and ultimately he was a relative of the last (and dearly departed) leader of the Church of Dark.

But it wasn’t a meet and greet. He wasn’t interested in socializing. Devlin gestured to O’Connor. “Ladies first.”

[devlin-burroughs]

valko-rathmore‌:

It’s The Covenleader Wine Mixer @devlin-burroughs @mama-o-connor

In the middle of a glen, where two roads became three, there sat a modest, white tent. Not so big that it might attract attention, but about the size of a small-ish living room. The entrance was marked by an unhooked seam running down the middle of one side that occasionally flapped open in the breeze. A quick peek inside revealed a tastefully decorated table with several trays of finger foods.

A fat raccoon wedged its nose under the sturdy, tarp-like material. With a lot of twisting and scraping it soon managed to squeeze its whole body inside. The creature sniffed at the air. He scurried toward the table, and scaled a nearby chair. Then he stretched out his tiny hands, swiping at the tablecloth. Once. Twice. Three times it took before  his claws caught on the top of the table, and he was able to heave his furry body up near the food, upending one of the teacups. He rubbed his paws together.

Valko stood just beyond the treeline. He was in clear sight of the glen, but he ventured no further. The Church had learned its lesson about surprise attacks many years ago, and he wasn’t taking one step further until the other two did.

Cornelius slithered through a field of dead grass to reach the tent, dipping around the invisible stakes holding it down and beneath a loose billowing edge. The Circle’s leader scanned the area from a distance away sheltered by evergreens. 

He could see Valko too. Approach with caution, of course, yet there wasn’t much to gain by anything unsavory occurring here. A tenuous truce had been drawn up. An itch under the ribs told Burroughs peace wouldn’t last forever. There was work to do in the meantime. 

Devlin heard the sizzle of a rattlesnake tail in the distance-- his familiar giving him the all clear. The leader made eye contact with Valko and called to him. “Mama O’Connor likes to make a grand entrance. Come, let’s not disappoint her.”

@mama-o-connor

[fivepointshq]

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[devlin-burroughs]

fivepointshq‌:

Ah, finally. Devlin Burroughs, (Idris Elba), a warlock of the Circle of Nightfall, has come home. He is 50 years old and brings his familiar Cornelius, a timber rattlesnake, with him. He is described as charming, decisive, and fastidious. [Polly, 28, CST, Severin Ealing, none]

Position in Coven: Coven Leader

Biography 

History overshadowed much of Devlin Burroughs’ life. The story of distant relatives was well-known around the valley. An Unholy Saint member giving birth to a child of the Church of Dark, who was subsequently publicly executed. A great-great-someone or another as a founder of the reformist coven eventually named Circle of Nightfall. A mix of blood and bone from birth provided the leaves of a tangled family tree. So many stories and personal histories that a young Devlin often wondered if his own would ever live up to the rest.  

Until his father, the previous Reverend Burroughs, died after a short reign, having primed his eldest to be his successor. The choice was uncontested by his fellow witches and warlocks. Despite his youthful hesitations Devlin had already proven to be a master at traversing the inner workings of the mind. More importantly, he could reach both inward and outward—encouraging the young in their craft the same as he reassured the older members that the coven would continue to move forward and thrive, together.

The charm and care extended to the Circle isn’t necessarily offered to those outside. He firmly believes the coven has a prominent place in the valley assisting returning soldiers of all stripes. Devlin also searches for ways to control the staggering toll mental magic takes on his followers. But as leader of the Circle of Nightfall his job is to solidify the wellbeing of his coven first. Perhaps one day the valley’s future will be not three separate groups, but one. However, it would be a fool’s folly to live in such a dream rather than accept the reality. And to know one’s enemy is to know their mind.

Welcome to Five Points, Devlin! Please follow the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours.

[devlin-burroughs]

Devlin’s familiar: Cornelius, a Timber Rattlesnake Crotalus horridus