Elemental, my dear Watson. [rp for lapsedsaint]

[aesthetic_mojo]

The wards Charlotte erected on John’s home in Massachusetts were the simplest she knew. They left soon after, so she only used enough energy to dissuade an intruder and to alert her if something persisted. Compared to what was around the flat in New York, it was little more than tin cans on string.

At home she decided more protection was needed and that she to build her own power. Sending a warning to that goon had been much more satisfying than she liked to admit. After using avoidance and a kind of protective coloration for protection, now she needed to be proactive. Doing that required tapping into energies she had largely ignored for years.

Leaving John asleep in their bed, she gathered her supplies, double locked the kittens in the living room and went onto the balcony. The blinds were closed in the bedroom so any light she generated wouldn’t wake her sleeping lover. Nothing she planned was dangerous, really, and she was taking John’s beliefs into consideration. That still left her trembling with anticipation. She hadn’t done anything like this since she started practicing again.

The circle she erected would be familiar to any serious magician. Symbols written at the four directions indicated primal elemental energies, the same energies that filled every thing on Earth. Even the cold steel and concrete of her balcony still held some of the power of their composite parts. She stripped down to a flimsy bra and panties set, one of her most revealing so more of her skin was available for the ritual. On the available canvas she echoed the symbols from the floor.

Some part of her knew the words she spoke mattered less than her intent, but the words were so familiar, so comfortable that they flowed like wine. Sweet, warming wine that spread through her and opened her to a swirl of color and sound normally invisible to most and to all beyond her home. Four tendrils reached out to her, some boldly, others with an almost comical coyness, until she was surrounded by them. They lifted her from her knees so she could open even more to them.

From another balcony all anyone would see is a mostly naked woman dancing in the cool fall air. The kittens, and John if he woke, could see how she held her arms open so the pale yellow fire could tickle her near the bottom of her breast bone. She went still for a moment so it could slowly enter her there. As the last of it disappeared, sparks flew like when a log fell in a roaring fire.

When the last spark faded, the green tendril found a spot over her heart. Its final farewell was a shower of tiny ivy leaves that vanished just before they hit the floor. After that the orange ribbon became a ball at her belly, rolling like waves in a stormy sea before crashing into her. The final tendril teased her, dancing over her breasts and over her inner thigh. She stood still for it to caress her, her head back so that her hair fell in golden waves.

The last tendril, glowing brilliant red, worked up her thigh and entered her between her legs, leaving nothing at all behind when it disappeared but a shaking, ecstatic woman who had fallen to her knees. Covered in sweat, panting as though she’d run a marathon, she knelt there until her tiny votive candles burned out. She stood slowly, cleared away the remaining supplies and prepared to go inside and face getting back into bed with the new found energy coursing through her.

She thought maybe a stiff drink was in order first.