Things had settled, they had their twice-monthly meetings with the Coven to make sure Charles was still under control and Edwin wasn't doing anything he shouldn't, but also giving Edwin a chance to learn better control of his magic, or uses for simple spells that neither he nor Charles would have originally thought of.
But, perhaps most importantly, they were permitted to resume their regular business, along with the cases from the Lost and Found department, of which there were a steady number, but nothing overwhelming. In fact, more than Charles -as the Hound- followed a difficult case back to the office to keep them calm until their pickup could be arranged.
He still wasn't sure why kids, especially the younger ones, decided that the overlarge black beast with the glowing-ember eyes was a friend even if they hadn't met Charles as himself first. But he also wasn't going to argue it, either, not if it helped get things finished without trouble.
The current case was one of their own, and it was one that had been fairly straightforward: determine what had taken up residence in a family mausoleum and get rid of it if they were able. Unfortunately they hadn't been able to figure out what it was before it got violent, only multiple instances of what it wasn't. It wasn't a banshee or any kind of imp, it wasn't a grim or to their knowledge any other kind of ghost or even a poltergeist.
It was probably some kind of guardian spirit, but if it was one for the family in question it had gotten twisted somehow, but it might have been seeking vengeance on behalf of another family and they didn't have that information and nor did their client who had only recently married into the family in question.
Regardless, Edwin had been trying for the past half hour to either contain or return it to wherever it had come from, but it had lunged all teeth and claws and with a snap of: "Hurry up Edwin!" Charles had done what he always did, he'd thrown himself between Edwin and danger, shifting smoothly into the hound shape he preferred, roughly the size of a Great Dane, leanly muscled, fur short and sleek so as better to emphasize Edwin's bonds -not that that last one was a conscious decision- and had pounced the thing mid-leap, sending it sprawling, but it had drawn the thing's attention to him instead, which was the intention.
He wasn't sure what spell Edwin finally managed, all he knew was that it had been enough to blast the thing to smoking tatters, and at the same time enough to yank energy out of Charles in a way he had only experienced a handful of times while still bound to the Duchess. It was enough to not just leave his ears ringing as if he'd just been near ground zero of an explosion -though he kind of had- but enough to have him collapsing, feeling like everything in him had been pulled through a keyhole to fill a void that wasn't quite the right shape to contain it.
It was sudden enough that he didn't fully realize he was flickering between shapes where he was sprawled on the floor, likewise barely aware that his whole left side was covered in a low-level burn, like a sunburn, or that his face and head had prickled over with blisters or pinprick bites -where they would have been from the nails in the Duchess' muzzle- or even that a thick band of remembered iron-burn had bloomed into place around his neck, wrists and even ankles.
When he did finally settle from the flickering, it was in the hound shape, the smaller one that he favored for running errands, sides heaving as he tried to stabilize himself again, so he could at least try to figure out what had just happened.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-10-26 07:34 pm (UTC)But, perhaps most importantly, they were permitted to resume their regular business, along with the cases from the Lost and Found department, of which there were a steady number, but nothing overwhelming. In fact, more than Charles -as the Hound- followed a difficult case back to the office to keep them calm until their pickup could be arranged.
He still wasn't sure why kids, especially the younger ones, decided that the overlarge black beast with the glowing-ember eyes was a friend even if they hadn't met Charles as himself first. But he also wasn't going to argue it, either, not if it helped get things finished without trouble.
The current case was one of their own, and it was one that had been fairly straightforward: determine what had taken up residence in a family mausoleum and get rid of it if they were able.
Unfortunately they hadn't been able to figure out what it was before it got violent, only multiple instances of what it wasn't. It wasn't a banshee or any kind of imp, it wasn't a grim or to their knowledge any other kind of ghost or even a poltergeist.
It was probably some kind of guardian spirit, but if it was one for the family in question it had gotten twisted somehow, but it might have been seeking vengeance on behalf of another family and they didn't have that information and nor did their client who had only recently married into the family in question.
Regardless, Edwin had been trying for the past half hour to either contain or return it to wherever it had come from, but it had lunged all teeth and claws and with a snap of: "Hurry up Edwin!" Charles had done what he always did, he'd thrown himself between Edwin and danger, shifting smoothly into the hound shape he preferred, roughly the size of a Great Dane, leanly muscled, fur short and sleek so as better to emphasize Edwin's bonds -not that that last one was a conscious decision- and had pounced the thing mid-leap, sending it sprawling, but it had drawn the thing's attention to him instead, which was the intention.
He wasn't sure what spell Edwin finally managed, all he knew was that it had been enough to blast the thing to smoking tatters, and at the same time enough to yank energy out of Charles in a way he had only experienced a handful of times while still bound to the Duchess. It was enough to not just leave his ears ringing as if he'd just been near ground zero of an explosion -though he kind of had- but enough to have him collapsing, feeling like everything in him had been pulled through a keyhole to fill a void that wasn't quite the right shape to contain it.
It was sudden enough that he didn't fully realize he was flickering between shapes where he was sprawled on the floor, likewise barely aware that his whole left side was covered in a low-level burn, like a sunburn, or that his face and head had prickled over with blisters or pinprick bites -where they would have been from the nails in the Duchess' muzzle- or even that a thick band of remembered iron-burn had bloomed into place around his neck, wrists and even ankles.
When he did finally settle from the flickering, it was in the hound shape, the smaller one that he favored for running errands, sides heaving as he tried to stabilize himself again, so he could at least try to figure out what had just happened.