1964-09-11 - We Need A Priest
Summary: Lindon and Lamont talk about purification and consecration
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
lamont lindon 

Lindon sits at his desk with Athena draped over the back of it, as is her wont, and Pye curled up on the nearby couch in Lamont's spot. Lindon is writing on stationary in neat script. He smiles faintly as he writes, though it's not that speculatively aroused smile like when he's writing to Morbius. This is a gentler expression. Classical music plays on the record player, a lovely sextet.

He never creeps up on Lindon. Never plays that kind of joke. Lamont's home early from his supposed lesson with STrange, looking somewhat discommoded. Not distressed, but he wasn't gated home looking like twenty miles of bad road, as usual. "Hello, love," he says, softly, as he comes in.

Lindon looks up, and his smile fades. "Are you all right?" he asks, then adds, "Hello, darling." Pye lifts her head and prrts. Athena opens her eyes and grooms a paw. Lindon purses his lips, then he ventures, "It looks like tonight's lesson wasn't so great. Want to talk about it?"

He actually picks up Pye, cuddles her. Nevermind the hairs that'll end up on his suit. "I didn't perform a purification after the other evening," he notes, quietly. He'd explained the incident - the child traffickers, the Avenger, Tanya. "Poor Strange was rather horrified by my aura. I'm under orders to take care of it before I visit again. I'll need holy water, it seems."

Pye starts to purr. She's rather fond of Lamont in particular, just as Athena favors Lindon. Who watches Lamont and grimaces as the mystic describes what happened. "I still can't believe you fought alongside an Avenger," he says. "Those guys are so cool." He rubs his chin as he thinks, leaving a smudge of ink. "A church would be the best place to go for holy water."

He nods at that. "Indeed," he says, quietly. "I shall find the nearest parish church. Or perhaps you might request some of your priest?" It's a genuine request, and no kind of joke, it seems. He grins at that. "Indeed, they are. I rather don't fit in, but it's an honor to be associated with them."

Lindon says wryly, "He might have questions, but I'll ask. What we need to find is a priest in the know who's also discreet." He lower his pen, glancing at the letter he's written so far. Then he looks up and adds, "Maybe if you go to confession, he'll give you all the holy water you need." He rests his chin on his hand, gazing at Lamont. "I still want to hear all about Madripoor."

That makes him pause. "YOu're right," e says, slowly. "I know there are witch hunters and white magicians in the ranks of the ordained." He cants his head at Lindon. "…..and you might know best how to find them. I fear I'm very much lapsed…" That jab about confession makes him grin. "I'd have to pickle myself in it for days…"

Lindon nods to himself. "I could find one, I bet. I just need a little time to do some looking." Then he smiles. "You might have to book the booth for the week." He signs his letter, then folds it, tucking it into an envelope. "Once I find a decent hunter-priest type, I'll let you know. There's got to be one in New York."

"Thank you," he says, with a little bow. He's still holding Pye, and this discomfits her enough to make her mew in annoyance and sink her claws into his lapel. Bad human. Obligingly, he sets her down. And then he grins that crooked little grin. "I'll tell you all about Madripoor as a bedtime story," he says, sweetly.

Lindon reaches behind him to give Athena a scritch behind the ears. She purrs and yawns hugely, mrping mid-yawn. She's going to be a gorgeous little girl when she's out of the lanky adolescent stage. "Pye," Lindon chatises when she sinks claws into Lamont's lapel. Then he accuses, "You pamper her." As if he has any right to talk. Then he ducks his head and says, "I like your bedtime stories."

He can't help but grin, as Pyewacket skitters away, tail up. "I do. I don't have kids, and I can't spoil you as overtly as I'd like. So….why not? I can only donate to so many orphanages, schools, and nunneries." That only makes the grin broaden. "Excellent. Though first I may need one from you - the ritual I'm directed to perform is called Purana Achamana, and I may need more than holy water for it."

Lindon tilts his head, gormless as he asks, "What do you think you're going to need? Symbols? Candles or incense?" He sits up straighter. "I can get hold of some ritual salt, I know of where someone could find it. Let's see, what else does one use for purification…" He looks around the shelves and the books stacked there.

"I'm not sure," he says, amiably. He likes unleashing Lindon on books. It's adorable. And far morefun than dragging through them himself. "Who were you writing to?"

Lindon rises to his feet. Athena complains as he gets up, and he pets her, murmuring, "There there, sweetheart." He starts skimming shelves. He pulls a book out, flips through it, reading at speed, then replacing it. "There's a woman who wrote to me not long ago regarding a book left to her by her father. We're hoping to learn more about it. She heard of me so she contacted me." He glances up and adds, "She heard of me in a vision."

It's like watching a hawk mantle a little, the way he responds to that. Not jealousy, not ferocity, but a kind of new alertness. "Do tell," he says, sidling closer. Lindon scholaring….it's sexy, let's face it.

Lindon flips through a few more books, and he sets aside two. As Lamont sidles over, he smiles a little. "That's all I know," he says. "She's going to come to New York and I'll be meeting with her. We're going to take a look at the book and see what there is to see." He hands one of the books to Lamont. "Purification symbology," he tells him. "Holy water might be easier then some of the ingredients you'll find in here."

He accepts it, leafs through it, and then pauses. His lips twist in thought. "Prasadam will also serve - the eating of food consecrated to a deity or ascended master….I need to start doing that. Observing the ritual aspects more carefully, more often. Magic has divine roots, it doesn't do to disrespect that," he says, voice low.

Lindon nods solemnly and says, "We could even get consecrated things for the kitchen. Ritual dishware." His solemnity fades, and he laughs a little. "Ceremonial pots and pans. Blessed candles on the dining room table. Maybe we could find someone to bless the cats, just to be sure." He lays a hand on Lamont's. "I'm only half kidding, and that's only about the cats."

Lamont takes that hand, brings it to his lips, kisses each knuckle in turn. "They do have patrons saints, after all. Not just Francis," HE pauses. "You know, some of that might work. One can legitimately cloak certain things under the more esoteric forms of Catholicism."

Lindon ducks his gaze and grins, cheeks coloring a touch. "We could just fold it into our lifestyle, I was thinking. A little low-level inoculation against darkness and bad vibes. Then when a deeper purification is required, you'll have what you need close at hand."

"I wonder if we could get a priest to come bless this place," he murmurs. "Though one with real sensitivity might be rather disturbed by the work I've already done…" HE turns that hand, kisses the palm, the fingertips, with a kind of absent-minded sensuality.

Lindon's cheeks color further. "We're not going to get very far in our research at this rate," he admonishes gently. "It sounds like our next move is to find the right church and go asking nicely if they'd be willing to help. We might not want to fully disclose the nature of our, ah, household."

"Indeed, no," he agrees, nuzzling at the veins at Lindon's wrist, kissing his way slowly up the underside of his arm….unbuttoning a cuff as he does. Hey, Gomez Addams knows what he's doing, doesn't he? "But yes, we shall…."

Lindon's breath catches, and his cheeks color further. In a small, helpless voice, he says, "Sh-shall, of course. Ah, I'm not, er, thinking the holiest of thoughts right now, Lamont. Perhaps I could look for the name of a priest to help us after dinner, when my head has cleared."

"Of course, my dear," he agrees. And nips the skin there, with careful delicacy, the barest graze of teeth. Then he looks up at Lindon….and straightens. "I love how quickly you react," he says, smiling at the scholar.

Lindon laughs a little and ducks his head. "You're terrible," he chides. Then he steals a quick kiss. "You know I can't resist you, my dear. I've never particularly tried to try." Still, he's got a job to do! Ahem! "I'll pick up the sacred salt on my way home tomorrow. I might be able to get a rosary made of hawthorn if I take a detour."

Lamont pulls him into his arms, grinning at him. They're of a height, so there's no looking down. "I'd appreciate it. I'm surprised I'd not thought of it before. A whole other layer of wards, of protection. Just from a different tradition," Lamont looks musing. "I might even be able to conceal the other ones beneath. It'd be tricky, but I'm good at concealment."

Lindon wraps his arms around Lamont, hugging him closely. Even though the man's home early, Lindon missed him. He does every day when their weekly lives pull them apart. "I have time to think all day," he says. "I should share my thoughts with you more often."

Which is when he leans his forehead against Lindon's….and reaches out gently, mind to mind. Yes, you should he agrees, trying to see if he can make contact with the librarian himself.

Lindon listens for it, closing his eyes. The thoughts whipping around in his mind tear the words to shreds, and he catches the tone, and a snatch of 'yes.' With a soft, sad sigh, he tries thinking back, I wish I could quiet my mind. But his mind is not quiet, and words chitter and whisper, scratching around at the inside of the mind like the scrabbling paws of mice and rats.

Lamont ducks a little lower, as if cheek to cheek would help. His is warm, faintly gritty with stubble that doesn't generally show - he's just blond enough. Still reaching out, with more strength, more power. Then there's actual command, his attention turning to all those stray thoughts - as if trying to brush away the mice, make a clear space where the little feet don't skitter.

Lindon feels it, the effort to clear a path. Were it anyone else, he would scream inside his mind, turn the scrabbling about into a hurricane. But it's Lamont, and so he rests cheek to cheek with him, his own skin smooth, with only a faint shadow under his skin. He takes deep, calming breaths, just like when he meditates. Soothing, easeful breaths, in and out, and it helps create a tenuous connection. Lamont can sense Lindon in there focusing on in… and out.

He matches breath, first….and then, even heartbeat. Strengthening that connection, lending his power…..as if forming a shield, and a quiet, sheltered place behind it. No words, now, just comfort and attachment.

Lindon closes his eyes and sighs softly. There are are. He smiles and nuzzles Lamont's cheek. Lamont is a balm, the quietude a comfort. He relaxes, and just the incremental motions of doing so betray how often he's ever so slightly tense, even when he's otherwise fine.

Why did he never think of this before? Kything's sensitive, even without Lin's extra burdens. It's peaceful, without that rising tide of desire, for once. Even that's fuel for the shield - how well he knows this body. Yes, he agrees again. Next time, I think we should try this after sex. It'll be even easier - even afterglow can help. There's an impish twinkle of humor there.

Lindon's blush deepens, and he laughs softly. Never mind how willing a partner he is, he's still so shy about it sometimes. My thoughts are racing less then, he says. It'll be easier. He keeps up with the calming breaths, the effort only barely a conscious one. He's relied heavily on those techniques lately.

Exactly, he agrees. I bet we could manage it during. The shyness makes him laugh, too. You make it new for me, every time - I can't be jaded with you.

You've got such a dirty mind, Lindon says. He sighs again, lulled by the rare moment of quiet in his head. I love you. He draws back and trails a fingertip down Lamont's cheek and smiles helplessly. But his concentration breaks, and the whipping thoughts start to come crashing in. He grimaces, then hugs Lamont to him closely. "No, no, no, no."

He only releases that hold little by little….no sudden impact. Lin's distress has his grip tightening, gently. "Shhh," he says. "It's a start. We'll learn to make it longer and longer."

Lindon sags, and he nods. "Thank you," he says. He smiles fondly at Lamont even as the tension returns, subtle as it is. "It's a start," he agrees. "I didn't even think it was possible, but we can work on it." He tucks a lock of Lamont's hair back. "That was nice. I can't remember the last time I felt so peaceful."

"I'd hoped it was. I was just coming at it from the wrong angles," he says, thoughtfully. "I wonder if we can't make it an effect of the wards, eventually. Like….treat your bedroom, perhaps, to be shielded and silenced…."

"I would love a place where things could just be quiet," Lindon says. "I just don't know how to access the stuff in my head without the whole thing coming unglued. But I can always leave the room when I need to go fishing for something." He rakes a hand through his hair. "Let's have some tea?"

Lamont takes his hand and leads him towards the kitchen, thogh he hardly needs it. "Of course. I've got more of the herbal stuff that helps with things like this…" The kitties come bounding after. There might be cream to spare.

Lindon comes along with, hand in hand with Lamont, and he laughs as he sees the kittens following. "Little opportunists," he says. He squeezes Lamont's hand and says, "I know I don't say it nearly enough, but I barely felt like I was alive until I met you."

He glances back. "YOu were heavily burdened. I'm glad to at least start to help…." Lamont trails off. "And honestly, I feel the same about you. Something to root me to earth…."

"A routine," Lindon says. "A family to come home to, with a dinner time and a bedtime, and someone to think about during work hours when things are slow. Just going to the supermarket for groceries is a pleasure. When your teacher doesn't take them away from me on the street."

"I never thought I'd cherish a normal life. Well, relatively normal, since I'm a pervert sorcerer and you're the fount of all knowledge," he says, reflectively. Then he grins, "I'm glad he has a sense of humor. He'd be unbearable otherwise."

"I wonder what he's going to turn into next," Lindon says. He sits down and watches Lamont as tea gets made. Athena hops onto his lap, and he scratches her behind the ears. Good kitty. "All I'm saying is if I see a puckish iguana, I'm walking the other way."

He likes the ritual of domesticity, rolling up his shirtsleeves. That comment makes him laugh. "He'll trick us again. I know it. Good for the both of us - we keep each other on our toes."

"At least we got a decent bread pudding out of the loaf that got crushed," Lindon says, striving to look on the bright side. "So how are the lessons going?" he asks. "I catch things on the periphery, but how are they going overall? What've you learned. I'm excited to hear all about it."

"Slowly," he says, giving Lindon a grin over his shoulder. "We come from very different traditions. But….I'm changing, I know it, just from the exposure. My magic's getting stronger, more skilled….we end up streetfighting anyway. I got him last time with mental powers, but that won't happen again. Strange is too canny and too strong. HE learns fast - he hasn't gotten ossified, or grown todepend on raw power, though he could."

Lindon's brows lift. "You took him in a street fight? The Sorcerer Supreme of Earth?" He strokes Athena's fur, and the kitten purrs. Pye gazes up at Lindon's lap, pondering trouble. Lindon is clueless. "That's… wow. I knew I picked the right wizard, but this is astonishing."

He lifts a finger, admonishing. "In training. A few times. He's less accustomed to pure physical combat….and I'm not at all at ease with the magical forms. That's what I mean about us complementing one another. We don't expect what the other does."

"So you're teaching him about being a street tough?" Lindon asks wryly. Pye takes a smack at Athena's tail dangling down, and Athena swishes it out of the way, looking annoyed. Lindon says, "Pye, don't." Then looks at Lamont. "Your cat is a little thug," he says. Then, "It sounds like a good arrangement. On this planet, you can't find anyone better."

That makes Lamont laugh. "I am. He doesn't expect his enemiesto come at him with physical techniques. And I'm wagering they haven't in the past. I nearly throttled him with a belt, once. We pull punches - no one's going for death or insanity. But as even Strange himself noted - most casters need either speech or hand motions to cast. Break his jaw - no speech. Shatter his hands, no gestures. Honestly, if I were going to go for him in earnest, it'd be from a half mile away behind a scope."

Lindon nods slowly. "Right, of course. Any hunter with that much knowledge could knock a wizard out with very little effort, especially if he's not thinking about someone taking a swing at him with something as mundane as a fist." He sits up, waiting for tea to come. Pye continues to eye Athena, trying to start shit. Athena peers down at her from Lindon's lap, ears pinned back as the tip of her tail tics. "Or like you say, a sniper's bullet."

"May it never come to that," he says, making a warding gesture. "I don't ever really want to fight Strange in earnest."

"But he should be aware," Lindon says. "I mean that's a pretty big blind spot, and he does defend the Earth. I hope you've given him the head's up."

"I'll speak to him," Lamont agrees, bringing over the tea cups. Plain china - he may be rich, but he keeps no state in his private kitchen. Sugar bowl and cream andhoney in a jar - sweet is so often better. "It might be worth testing with rubber rounds, or something. Enough to hurt, not enough to wound or maim."

"My suggestions go both ways," Lindon says with a sudden smile. "I got you clawed by Aralune, and now Strange is going to get hit with a rubber bullet." He pours cream and honey into his teacup and stirs them together. The cats stop annoying one another and look up at the table. Cream? Mao? "I'm sure he'll thank me later."

A chorus of insistent maos. They know how this works. Humans have bitter leaf water, cats get delicious cream. Obediently, he pours some into the saucers and serves each princess in turn - fast enough they're too busy lapping to hiss or fight. "HE might. I wonder if I should warn him….I should warn him. He might give me an aneurysm in startlement."

Lindon watches the kittens with amusement. Not such little kittens anymore. "So pampered," he remarks. He pours tea and stirs it into the sweet cream he's made. "If you warn him, he'll just throw up a ward," He rubs his chin. "He'd have to have a ward up all the time, wouldn't he. Might be worth warning him to test it."

Now the kittens aren't the only happy felines in the room. Lamont has that little smile on. "I wonder. It might well be worth it, to make sure he's safer."

"He looks after us," Lindon says reasonably, "we should look after him." He takes a drink of his tea and sighs with pleasure. "This is something else I love about us," he says. "Tea together, lazy evenings." He takes another sip, and his cheeks tint as he says, "And how after tea we're going to go to your bedroom."

"Yes, we are. And I'm going to do whatever you want," Lamont agrees, tone blander than the cream. "All night long."

Lindon's cheeks flush crimson. He brought it up, it's his own fault. "Yes, well," he says, "um, yes. That's. That's the plan. He ducks his head. Meanwhile, Athena licks her chops while Pye begins to daintily groom a paw.

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