Daimons are a Girl's Best Friend
By all accounts, my week has been going pretty well in spite of the inevitable small set-backs here and there that take place in the course of most everyone's lives - plumbing difficulties at the new apartment, dealing with kinderqueers who by my estimation should have at least an eighth of their lives figured out, and other minutiae that comes and goes or stays and becomes an even bigger source of anxiety if unchecked. Additionally, I've found myself to be very busy at work this week which is both kind of a drain but also good for my pocket-book, so I have no room to complain about that in the least.
Monday, I woke up, went to the gym, did my daily routines, and decided that it was a good idea to take a nap. As I was about to disrobe and hop onto my mattress, I received a phone call from![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
alfrecht who was on the Hill waiting out erynn999 's final tattooing phase. Initially I had declined the offer to hang out since I was almost in bed and my brain was in the process of shutting down but, sure enough, as my head hit the pillow, I received another phone call from an amicus per beneficium who was in my part of the neighborhood. Figuring at this point I wasn't going to get any sleep, I invited him over for a brief encounter which left him breathless and commenting afterward that next time he should probably bring his amyl nitrates to make things a little easier. Putting my clothes back on, I followed him out the door and proceeded to walk toward Traveler's to meet up with alfrecht and regale him with my conquests, inspiring a number of comments and non sequitors such as: "Drink that rose water, and then your throat will smell like a whorehouse...and then later, the end of some guy's cock will smell like a whorehouse" and also learning that in an exchange between alfrecht , his mother, tedgill and brandywilliams , my name had been gloriously taken in vain over the course of the weekend. Afterward, I attended the Celtic Reconstructionist Schmooze meeting and went home.
On Wednesday, I received a text from an old friend and we decided to get together and hang out for a bit. I went up to QFC and bought some wine and chocolates and awaited his arrival reading the Grimorium Verum in the living room. He showed up around 9:00PM and we promptly popped open one of the bottles which I had gotten on sale, a nice cabernet, and he decided to ask my about the book I'm in the process of writing on daemonology & Goetic magic from the Dark Ages to Present. This led from one explanation to another, a glass of wine to another, until at end I decided to invite him out for a magical adventure. I loaded my bag of tricks with the requisite equipment: blessed chalk, candles, Switch-Blade of the Arte, portable wand, holy water, psalter, book of consecrations, pentacles, portable censer, portable incense, and, of course, the True Grimoire. On our walk I gave him a brief run-down on things that could happen and things that probably wouldn't as well as technicalities such as running from the police should we bring ourselves in some way to the attention of the authorities. It was a swift walk from my apartment, toward Olive, snaking back north along Broadway, up Harrison, and north again along 12th - an appropriate crooked-path if ever there was one.
We arrived at the park at eleven o'clock sharp and I had my friend hold my bag while I set to work drawing an impromtu double-circle while reciting the Psalms and filling in the quadrents with their particular words of power. In the east, I constructed a Triangle of Arte on the ground in chalk, once again reciting the appropriate consecrations and placing a candle at each of the points and preparing the censer to be lit between the triangle and the circle. Everything in its place, I began the process of banishing according to the rituals of the pentagram and the hexagram, afterward we purified ourselves and I consecrated him with Holy Oil using the doxology found in Liber XXXVI: "Gloria Patri et Matri et Filio et Filiae et Spiritui Sancto externo et Spiritui Sancto interno ut erat est erit in saecula Saeculorum sex in uno per nomen Septem in uno ARARITA" which I figured to be more than appropriate when taken in context to the Verum conjurations. Incense ignited, I began with the Anthem, Qui tu Es, then proceeded with the Orison of Salamanders, then finally set in with the Conjuration of Lucifer: Lucifer, + Ouyar, + Chameron, + Aliseon, + Mandousin, + Premy, + Oriet, + Naydrus, + Esmony, + Eparinesont, + Estiot, + Dumosson, + Danochar, + Casmiel, + Hayras, + Fabelleronthou, + Sodirno, + Peatham, +Come, Lucifer, +Amen.
After the second recitation of the conjuration, a figure began to manifest within the Triangle of Arte both to the amazement of myself and my friend who had previously no experience with diabolism. Mustering a final pitch of strength, I recited the conjuration five more times when a wind began to blow through the park, sending the smoke from the censer all over the Circle and allowing the King to fully appear in a matter clearer than I've seen any spirit before: a large, black, cherubic-figure, blacker than the surrounding darkness with an aura of red about him; large tendricals of what seemed to be burnt-off wings behind him and a sinister smile. He reached out toward us and I recited the Salutation and questioned the spirit of its identity which it answered all in the affirmative, though with each question becoming more and more impatient with myself and my friend who, at this point, was in a cold sweat but holding himself together. Before I could petition the spirit anything, one of Volunteer Park's "bush bunnies" came out from somewhere and I lost the image of the King.
My friend and I not wanting to draw much more of a scene to ourselves, I recited the dismissal of the spirit and performed a very swift, sub-tonal performance of the pentagram and hexagram rituals again. Oddly enough, while I was performing these, my friend whispered to me that each time I intoned one of the divine names, our "bush bunny" who was walking along the outside of the circle would act erratically. Being immersed in quickly trying to end our ceremony, I had initially brushed it off as him (the bush bunny) being tweaked out on some drug until, as I returned to the East, I saw him standing in the triangle looking at us. We stayed in the circle and packed up our supplies with the exception of my Switch-Blade of the Arte in case I needed to defend myself. Putting my hat back on, I silently prayed the Nepios and noticed that "our friend" was indeed acting erratically and upon the final "Amen" his body jerked and he walked away swaggering. I congratulated my friend on a ritual well done and we walked back toward my apartment to retire to a conversation about the ritual and discussion of Mithraism - a topic very near and dear to both of our hearts - and a final glass of wine.
Monday, I woke up, went to the gym, did my daily routines, and decided that it was a good idea to take a nap. As I was about to disrobe and hop onto my mattress, I received a phone call from
alfrecht who was on the Hill waiting out erynn999 's final tattooing phase. Initially I had declined the offer to hang out since I was almost in bed and my brain was in the process of shutting down but, sure enough, as my head hit the pillow, I received another phone call from an amicus per beneficium who was in my part of the neighborhood. Figuring at this point I wasn't going to get any sleep, I invited him over for a brief encounter which left him breathless and commenting afterward that next time he should probably bring his amyl nitrates to make things a little easier. Putting my clothes back on, I followed him out the door and proceeded to walk toward Traveler's to meet up with alfrecht and regale him with my conquests, inspiring a number of comments and non sequitors such as: "Drink that rose water, and then your throat will smell like a whorehouse...and then later, the end of some guy's cock will smell like a whorehouse" and also learning that in an exchange between alfrecht , his mother, tedgill and brandywilliams , my name had been gloriously taken in vain over the course of the weekend. Afterward, I attended the Celtic Reconstructionist Schmooze meeting and went home. On Wednesday, I received a text from an old friend and we decided to get together and hang out for a bit. I went up to QFC and bought some wine and chocolates and awaited his arrival reading the Grimorium Verum in the living room. He showed up around 9:00PM and we promptly popped open one of the bottles which I had gotten on sale, a nice cabernet, and he decided to ask my about the book I'm in the process of writing on daemonology & Goetic magic from the Dark Ages to Present. This led from one explanation to another, a glass of wine to another, until at end I decided to invite him out for a magical adventure. I loaded my bag of tricks with the requisite equipment: blessed chalk, candles, Switch-Blade of the Arte, portable wand, holy water, psalter, book of consecrations, pentacles, portable censer, portable incense, and, of course, the True Grimoire. On our walk I gave him a brief run-down on things that could happen and things that probably wouldn't as well as technicalities such as running from the police should we bring ourselves in some way to the attention of the authorities. It was a swift walk from my apartment, toward Olive, snaking back north along Broadway, up Harrison, and north again along 12th - an appropriate crooked-path if ever there was one.
We arrived at the park at eleven o'clock sharp and I had my friend hold my bag while I set to work drawing an impromtu double-circle while reciting the Psalms and filling in the quadrents with their particular words of power. In the east, I constructed a Triangle of Arte on the ground in chalk, once again reciting the appropriate consecrations and placing a candle at each of the points and preparing the censer to be lit between the triangle and the circle. Everything in its place, I began the process of banishing according to the rituals of the pentagram and the hexagram, afterward we purified ourselves and I consecrated him with Holy Oil using the doxology found in Liber XXXVI: "Gloria Patri et Matri et Filio et Filiae et Spiritui Sancto externo et Spiritui Sancto interno ut erat est erit in saecula Saeculorum sex in uno per nomen Septem in uno ARARITA" which I figured to be more than appropriate when taken in context to the Verum conjurations. Incense ignited, I began with the Anthem, Qui tu Es, then proceeded with the Orison of Salamanders, then finally set in with the Conjuration of Lucifer: Lucifer, + Ouyar, + Chameron, + Aliseon, + Mandousin, + Premy, + Oriet, + Naydrus, + Esmony, + Eparinesont, + Estiot, + Dumosson, + Danochar, + Casmiel, + Hayras, + Fabelleronthou, + Sodirno, + Peatham, +Come, Lucifer, +Amen.
After the second recitation of the conjuration, a figure began to manifest within the Triangle of Arte both to the amazement of myself and my friend who had previously no experience with diabolism. Mustering a final pitch of strength, I recited the conjuration five more times when a wind began to blow through the park, sending the smoke from the censer all over the Circle and allowing the King to fully appear in a matter clearer than I've seen any spirit before: a large, black, cherubic-figure, blacker than the surrounding darkness with an aura of red about him; large tendricals of what seemed to be burnt-off wings behind him and a sinister smile. He reached out toward us and I recited the Salutation and questioned the spirit of its identity which it answered all in the affirmative, though with each question becoming more and more impatient with myself and my friend who, at this point, was in a cold sweat but holding himself together. Before I could petition the spirit anything, one of Volunteer Park's "bush bunnies" came out from somewhere and I lost the image of the King.
My friend and I not wanting to draw much more of a scene to ourselves, I recited the dismissal of the spirit and performed a very swift, sub-tonal performance of the pentagram and hexagram rituals again. Oddly enough, while I was performing these, my friend whispered to me that each time I intoned one of the divine names, our "bush bunny" who was walking along the outside of the circle would act erratically. Being immersed in quickly trying to end our ceremony, I had initially brushed it off as him (the bush bunny) being tweaked out on some drug until, as I returned to the East, I saw him standing in the triangle looking at us. We stayed in the circle and packed up our supplies with the exception of my Switch-Blade of the Arte in case I needed to defend myself. Putting my hat back on, I silently prayed the Nepios and noticed that "our friend" was indeed acting erratically and upon the final "Amen" his body jerked and he walked away swaggering. I congratulated my friend on a ritual well done and we walked back toward my apartment to retire to a conversation about the ritual and discussion of Mithraism - a topic very near and dear to both of our hearts - and a final glass of wine.
