Night's Omen

• Hidden
  
• Eyes
  
• Passage (http://angdar.com/nightsomen/index.php?topic=2403.msg32660#msg32660)
  
• Hero
  
• Illusion
  
• Order
  
• Gentle
  
• Stars
  
• Death
  
• Autumn

His teams at Garden Security sometimes found themselves in incredibly strange situations, usually of the ‘dangerous’ and ‘deadly’ varieties, but nothing about this was supposed to be as intense as all of that.  It was three men per shift, three rotating shifts per day on a protection detail that really wasn’t expected to turn into much.  The client was a rich bastard who’d made his money through likely questionable means, and he was suddenly feeling inclined to part with some of it out of fear for past transgressions.  It wouldn’t be the first time something like it had happened, and while it was one of the more boring job types they ran, it was easy money.  Sometimes, it was nice to give his teams something sweet, simple and lucrative.  Leon himself was only on this shift because one of his people had a sick kid, and while the job typically came before all but serious personal emergencies, they all backed each other up where they could.  It wouldn’t hurt him to fill in a shift, and honestly, it was a good excuse to stretch his legs a little.

Three days into the protection detail was when Leon found himself on site again for only the second time since they’d accepted the job (the first being when he investigated it and made his assessment of the environment), and it was just as quiet for the first few hours as it had been the past few days, but something felt off.  Considering the client went to bed seemingly without any more nerves than he’d had since their arrival (perhaps less, as a routine formed) and Leon’s current shift-partner seemed bored to tears despite the professional attitude, he assumed it was just him, but that didn’t change that flash of gut instinct.  Something had changed as the shadows increased through the penthouse, like an energy on the air that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and nothing about that was okay.

"Be prepared to move him, something feels off," he instructed, since there wasn’t an acceptable explanation for ‘the air feels like magic’, but soldiers understood instinct.  His guy backpedaled into the bedroom with the client while Leon slowly moved through the penthouse, a Kimber openly drawn and ready, but he barely saw his attacker in the darkness before an inhuman form was barreling toward him.  Three factors struck Leon in quick succession over the next few seconds: an impact to his arms and chest despite firing twice into the creature before being struck, his breath leaving his chest as he hit and then went through the thick glass window overlooking the city, and then the rush of air around him as he fell.  See?  Nothing okay about it, and the only actual improvement was that the instantaneous spike of adrenaline that came with the fear and pain tapped into something not all that far beneath the surface, already impatiently scratching at his psyche for release.

Far too close to the ground for comfort, he twisted enough in the air to get his hands and feet beneath him, and then a rush of wind coming from below slowed his descent first from deadly to merely dangerous and finally to uncomfortable, but very survivable.  It would have been impressive and almost as terrifying as the fall itself if he hadn’t still hit the ground hard enough in that swirl of cool air that it knocked him into someone and both of them into the grime of the alley.

"Nice catch," he breathed, shoving off of the smaller guy quickly and with a small stumble as he regained his bearings somewhat.

"Well, you know, I do try," came a smooth voice from the ground where a lean man with spiked blond hair, sharp blue eyes and angular features tried to recover, though there was the impression that its owner was a bit shellshocked and disgruntled.  Leon couldn't blame him in the slightest.

His first thought after dragging himself up off of the man who’d cushioned some of his fall was that there was no way in hell he was getting back up to his client the way he’d come, and just staring disbelievingly up that distance made him feel like he’d just been rendered useless.  The man he’d landed on was taking a little longer to pick himself up (and yes, Leon would be feeling that fall for the next few days, so he assumed his new acquaintance would, as well), but that wasn’t his primary concern.  He sprinted around the corner of the building for the front doors, skipping the elevators in favor of the stairs because the last thing he wanted was another potentially deadly fall or just getting stuck, and most definitely aware of the sound of someone behind him in the lobby.

It wasn’t until he was racing up a few floors that his mind flashed over the unlikeliness of his survival of such a fall, which only made him push harder.  He had a damn good idea how he’d avoided being a mess on the sidewalk, but denial suited him far better at the moment. It certainly wasn’t going to help anyone involved in the situation if he got all caught up on his own personal shit right here in the stairwell.  He had a job to do, if there was even still a job left by the time he made it. 

He was less out of breath than someone might have expected when he burst through the door and past an elevator door opening to reveal the guy from the street, his bored expression undone by the way his keen eyes narrowed.  Leon could hear gunshots, which meant someone was still alive, and while he didn't want this new guy getting involved and being another potential casualty to worry about, his shout to get back in the elevator was ignored without a word from the newcomer until they'd both rushed through the door into the chaos of Leon's teammates firing on some monstrous thing and stopped dead in their tracks.  He'd have been satisfied in any other situation to see that his new 'friend' looked just as surprised and horrified as he did in that first instant, but as it was, all he really had time to do was draw his spare firearm and join the fray.

"Keep it occupied," the other man called out to him, doing god only knew what, but it was surprising how his voice carried through the noise of the situation around them; he hadn't even seemed to raise his volume at all.  "I think I can sort it."

"What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” he demanded with a shout over his shoulder, the spare gun already lost within just a moment and his arm bleeding from the loss of said weapon, though he’d swiftly replaced it with a combination of blades.  He’d been accused of being impractical for carrying what was essentially a sword in this day and age, but it combined with the long-knife he also liked rather well, and he had been known to use both to devastating effects.  Up close and personal had never bothered him.

It wasn’t necessarily his preferred place to be when dealing with this thing, however.  Reese Walker, Leon's temporary ally, had the training necessary to handle bad situations, but this creature was nasty, feral and raging despite Leon was fighting it like it was something he did every Tuesday.  Leon himself had very little faith in his ability to keep this up, even if it wasn't his first terrifying opponent; Lucrezia had a number of those, including what he swore had to actually be a dragon, but that didn’t lessen the impact of seeing what he thought was a real demon in the flesh, let alone charging at it.  That the mystery man he’d landed on seemed to know what he was doing sounded promising, but Leon honestly wasn’t sure how long he could keep it busy on his own.  There was a crumpled figure that he hoped was still breathing off to the side of the room that had once been one of his men, and that meant no reinforcements at this point.  Probably for the best, since he wouldn’t have wanted to risk anyone else rushing in against this thing.

Since the newcomer had offered, though… "If you’re gonna sort it, you need to sort it faster!"

Not happy with being rushed in a delicate procedure, Reese narrowed his eyes at the bleeding mercenary once more, then abandoned his attempts to get something together to open a hole to dump it in.  Tall, dark and handsome had a magic to him that had struck Reese in the face metaphysically just as surely as the man's body had crushed him into the sidewalk, and there were faster, dirtier ways to do this.  "I'm going to use you as a focus, which means I'm going to touch you.  Don't hit me."

Once more, the man's voice carried over the mess of noise around them, but Leon didn't pay him much mind.  His concern was not getting splattered, and as he backed off to breathe for a moment, the third member of his team shot out from behind cover firing on the thing.  It gave him the couple of seconds he needed to figure out what Reese was doing, but he couldn't really make out what had been going on over there.  Whatever it was, it had sounded like help, but he had no idea.

It was very possible that part of the faith he had in the Brit was due to the sense of power coming from his side of the room, but the entire area felt bathed in a hot, crushing sense of the demon itself, so it was hardly a surprise that someone who cared little for magical things didn’t distinguish too hard.  He just wanted the stranger to get on with it or get out of the way before he took enough glancing blows that he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, which was going to happen eventually.  He’d gained a few new slices in as little time as it had taken him to shout at his new ‘friend’ and for the man to lose patience and start towards him.

He gave a great heave with the small sword and stabbed the demon with the knife in what would have been a fatal blow to something mortal, but only caused it to shriek and withdraw with a hit that surprisingly didn’t tear Leon up, though it made him stagger back; it offered both combatants a good amount of space to figure out just how hurt they were, and Leon wasn’t liking his odds.

"I have no idea what that means, but whatever.  Do it, just send this thing back."  Honestly, if he’d had time, there would have been questions, but there wasn’t.  He didn’t want an explanation and he didn’t feel like he needed one right about then; all they needed was this creature back where it belonged.

Within five seconds, he wanted an explanation and to take back his agreement, such as it was, but Reese gave absolutely zero fucks when he was in such close quarters with that thing, especially coming up behind Leon when its attention was was zeroing in after taking down the other man that had been shooting.  There was no time to worry about feelings or comfort - he grabbed Leon's left wrist from behind in a vice grip to keep him from swinging at him out of reflex with that knife, pulled that arm back and wrapped his right hand around to the front of his body and pressed it to his throat.  It was a tight grab just because of adrenaline, but not unsafe, just designed to put them close together, open barriers up and give Reese the access he needed to that wellspring of power.

Then, it opened up, and they both had regrets.

When Leon said he wanted it done quickly, before they both ended up dead, he hadn’t really understood what he was asking for.  He’d just been trying to rush Reese along because there really just wasn’t time.  His first instinct when he was grabbed by the wrist would have been to take a swing, but having a demon sizing them both up, regaining its bearings and likely about to charge him again had a way of making him restrain those urges to protect his personal space - fortunately for Reese.  Honestly, some part of him thought the man was grabbing at him for a human shield, protection against the thing’s charge, and he wasn’t so sure how effective he’d be, but protection was what he did; it didn’t throw him off. 

It was the hand wrapping around his throat and the sudden closeness behind him that would have prompted him throwing Reese off of him if he’d had time - he didn’t.

His back arched as Walker tore down the barriers inside of him he’d so painstakingly built to keep Lucrezia’s power at bay, and if Reese thought he was drowning in it, Leon managed a short gasp and wasn’t sure he’d ever surface again.  It was beyond him, so much more vast than he could ever comprehend, and how did he ever hope to try?  Containing this was impossible, like trying to tame the wild when deep down, you always knew it was still there, feathers and fur rustling, slinking about, waiting for the opportunity to lunge from the darkness.  It was lightning and raging winds, churning ocean tides, and it all rose up from that place deep inside of him at Walker’s tampering, ecstatic to be released and eager to strike out at its target.  Distantly, he could feel Reese’s body pressed to his back, his hand tight against his throat, but that was just as natural.  What mortal creature, upon feeling this wildness, wouldn’t seek the physical? 

Opening the gate to throw this thing away was child’s play, simply a stretch of cramped muscles to find the place and draw the darkness up to take back its misbehaved child, but as the portal swirled closed, there was still so much more to be done.  It had only just been allowed to reach out, and the man who held it could not beat it back down so quickly.  Much like a horse eager to run, it sought more to do, something else to breathe this wildness into.  Healing the body of the man who held it was a natural place to go - Reese had fallen away from him to his knees with the stain of blood on his clothes, so he didn’t experience the sudden rush of heat as wounds knit back together, but there would be no mistaking what seemed to be a crack of lightning at the crumpled bodies of two men nearby. 

Only with that great expenditure of energy leaving the taste of scent of ozone around all of them did the power allow itself to be shoved back down by the man who held it, sated temporarily, though no longer willing to be caged.  Leon also dropped to his hands and knees like a puppet with its strings cut, blades clattering to the floor beside him as he gasped like he’d really and truly been drowning. 

"What have you done?"

"You look better than I expected, Leon."

The voice rang through his living room clear and not loud, but soft and gentle in a way that somehow carried as though it didn't have to work against the ambient noises of city life ranging from sirens and cars in the streets to the hum of a refrigerator - separate and alien, an intruder.  That was fitting, as the tension in his body came from having believed he was alone in his penthouse and finding himself very suddenly wrong in that assessment.  He turned slowly, in case there was a weapon trained on him, but this woman didn't require a weapon - she was one, just as all sorceresses were.  He knew that all too well.

"I'm not sure I understand what you expected, then.  I'm not the one who should be dead," he pointed out, staring her down like he expected her to suddenly shift into something or someone else, but all she did was smile.

"I may have...exaggerated the state I was in at the end there.  You and your team were very focused on killing your enemy or dying in the attempt, and I realized I wasn't interested in being there for either result," she explained, tone gentle as she studied him with an unreadable expression.  She could have been amused or furious, and even knowing her as well as he'd thought he did, he couldn't have said which it was.  "As for what I expected...Leon, you've been practically hemorrhaging magical residue for quite some time now.  I expected you to be dead or have gone mad with it by now."

He bristled at the harsh, but likely realistic dangers that she'd named so quickly after stating that she'd abandoned them to whatever fate rather than be a part of it, unable to help wondering exactly how accurate they'd be without Bambi's help with the bindings.  He remembered how he'd have entire days where he felt like he was viewing everything from miles away because he felt nearly lost in his own mind, his focus utterly shattered by the magic fighting constantly within him.  She'd given him a way to function normally again.  "I appreciate your concern.  Why are you here?"

"You know, I really am concerned for you," she told him, but somehow, nothing about her 'sincerity' actually felt sincere to him.  She seemed to realize this, and there was a smile, though even that didn't hold the same kind of allure that it once had.  She seemed very...normal, with none of the attraction he'd previously had.  He was completely over her, that much was certain, but it seemed jarringly sudden and she noticed instantly.  "Well, my influence does absolutely nothing for you now.  Whether you like it or not, that magic is obviously firmly attached to you.  The only way to get rid of it now would be to die and pass it on to someone who would appreciate it more, and there are a lot of people who are going to be more than willing to help you with that."

"Like you?  You didn't have a problem mind-fucking me and my people into killing that sorceress for you.  Guess that just didn't work out for you, so what?  You came here to take her magic from me, instead?  You can have it, I don't want it."

"Leon, please.  The only person I had to mind-fuck was you.  The rest of your people followed you to their deaths, except for Edward, of course, but killing a gargoyle takes a lot more than she was willing to do, I guess," she said flippantly, then sighing.  "Anyway, I didn't hire you to kill her for her magic.  Everything I told you at the beginning was the truth - she was trying to kill me to collect more power for herself, and I figured the best defense was a good offense.  She couldn't kill me if your people killed her first, which you did, so thanks."

If possible, his expression darkened even further than it already had been, but most of what she was saying wasn't a surprise to him anymore.  Edward had her pegged much sooner than the rest of them, but Leon had been so caught up in whatever magical fuckery she had on him that he hadn't listened, and it was only after the fallout that he'd been filled in with a clear mind.  Her motives had still been fuzzy, but he wasn't honestly sure how much he believed her even now.  She was a sorceress through and through, so she was impossible to trust.  That much, he'd learned and wasn't going to forget.

"Frankly, I don't want to take that power you've got so messily stuffed inside of you, Leon.  It's too much, like it has a mind of its own.  If I took it, it might just take me over and then I wouldn't be myself anymore, and that's not something I'm interested in.  You hang onto it," she said, smiling brightly at the end of that, like she hadn't just lent credibility to some of his deeper fears.  That, in itself, made him wonder if she was doing it on purpose or if it was a legitimate fear, but he still couldn't figure out what the hell she was here for. 

"What do you want, Cassandra?"

"Just to check on you, Leon," she finally said, standing up and making her move to leave.  "Your...goat is tearing your place apart, by the way."

His attention jerked suddenly to the sounds he'd been ignoring as soon as he pegged them as Black Phillip getting into something, and then he cursed, realizing that the animal had torn into something and was dragging a bag of rock salt around.  She was very suddenly gone, leaving him with a goat and a mess to clean up, but no real answers.

---

The rock salt wasn't the only thing Phillip tried to destroy that afternoon - the goat went for the armchair Cassandra had been sitting in after Leon had finally made him stop kicking the salt around, which naturally made the man go for the chair so that Phillip didn't rip it apart for some completely unfathomable reason, leaving a scattered mess of salt around a large portion of his place.  It was obvious, at least to him, that Phillip meant him no actual harm because he knew what those horns and teeth could likely do, not to mention if the asshole tried to actually kick him, but it didn't make it any less of a pain in the ass when the animal nipped at him and swung those hooves or headbutted him a little too hard with the flat side of his horns.

"What is your deal today?  Leave the chair alone!" he snapped.  Phillip did not care, a factor made clear when he tried to bite the cushion once again.  It wasn't usual for him to push this hard at something, so Leon had no idea what had gotten into him.  Was he missing Bambi?  She was gone longer for work almost every day, so why her going to a carnival was all that different didn't make any sense to him, but it was the only thing he could figure, unless the animal just didn't like Cassandra.

Leon could relate on that, at least.  "She already fucks up everything she touches, so I don't need you helping," he sighed, giving the animal's horn a tug to pull it away from the chair.  He was getting the baby gate next.  "How about I give you something that's meant to be eaten?  Or is that too easy for you?"

He had never had to fight with Phillip to feed him inside before, which made this an entirely new situation, but Leon really wasn't entirely sure what to do with a pet goat to begin with, so he was doing his best.  "Pretty sure we have some salad your mom wanted and then didn't eat, how do you feel about that?  I won't tell if you don't."

Bambi had probably already forgotten that she'd even gotten the salad mix and tomatoes, which she'd made into one salad and apparently cured herself of the craving.  Leon felt a little foolish rewarding the little shit after all of the mischief that afternoon, but at least it had been a good distraction from Cassandra's visit.  He still didn't know what the fuck that was all about or why she would show up and reveal that she'd survived after so long.  It meant she was up to something, and the last time she'd been scheming, nearly his entire team had died and she'd screwed his head up bad, which didn't even touch on the magical mess he was in.  What the fuck could she possibly want now?

Nothing good, which made him glance at his phone on the counter, considering calling Edward to let him know that she'd made an appearance, but Edward had escorted Bambi to the carnival, and didn't need the added trouble.  It could wait until they got back, and even then, he'd have to figure out how to get Edward alone because he was not ready to talk to Bambi about Cassandra, of all people.  It would need to happen eventually, and there was a chance Edward was right about possibly talking to someone professional about it, but Leon hadn't done the research into a shrink who knew about the supernatural, he wasn't interested in going through the hunting guilds, and he really just...didn't want to talk about it. 

Dwelling on it on his own wasn't really an improvement, he'd admit, but there was some stupid part of him that hoped that if he never actually looked at it too hard because he was kept busy elsewhere, then he'd get past it and get over it.  Considering Bambi had already gotten upset when he couldn't bring himself to claim that he loved her, that method was obviously working swimmingly, but he wasn't about to lie to her and he just felt like his reasons were too weak to bring up in the moment.  The problem was that there was no way in hell he wanted to drop that information on her when things were going well, either, so he was screwed regardless, and that was only if he actually took the step to bring it up.  He knew he cared deeply about her, that he wouldn't trade even the moments when she drove him utterly insane or the fact that she had a pet fucking goat that insisted on carrying a damn hex doll around as a lovey, but was that love?  Thanks to Cassandra and her magic twisting him into some manufactured devotion for her that fogged his mind over and lead his people to their deaths, he didn't even know what real love was supposed to be like, and he hadn't really been bargaining for getting so invested with Bambi when he met her. 

Having Cassandra reappear was actually kind of terrifying, because he wasn't so sure even now if he could bring himself to kill her if he had to, and she hadn't even been able to roll him with that magic of hers this time.  Was he really that fucked up that even without her influence, he couldn't think straight about it?  Bambi was going to rip him apart if he tried to talk to her about it without even knowing for himself what he thought of it.  So much for telling himself he was over it.

He wasn't sure why he'd bothered cutting up tomato for Phillip, who would absolutely destroy a whole tomato with gusto, but there was perhaps the hope that if it was in smaller pieces, it wouldn't explode all over the floor.  Even as he got the rest of the salad ingredients put together, he was trying to keep the goat's attention by offering bits of the tomato, which Phillip trotted over to take gently from his fingers before going back to fuck with the baby gate.  Why he was suddenly so determined, Leon couldn't figure out, but it was bothering him more and more the longer it went on.  The fact that the goat wasn't hounding him for the rest of the food was a big red flag.

The sudden cough was, as well, but it was a little late to be worrying by that point.  It felt like he got a really bad scratch at the back of his throat at first, but as soon as the first cough struck, it rocketed up into actual, searing pain and a sharp, wetness that he barely put the back of his hand up to block.  He coughed blood onto his hand, and though he looked at it, a little too shocked to be instantly afraid, it wasn't stopping.  The cough hit again, the feeling like a razorblade was stuck in his throat actually sending him to the bathroom, where the pain and the coughing intensified badly enough that he had to struggle and then gagged on both blood and his fingers trying to reach back to feel for something that truly felt like it was lodged in the back of his throat.  There was nothing there, and his efforts only seemed to make it worse until he was clutching the sink to stay upright, his bloodied hands streaking the white porcelain as he choked on the blood and the agony seemed to spread down his windpipe to his lungs.  He didn't know what was happening, but he heard noise somewhere else in the house, and the panic hit him that this had to be Cassandra's doing.  He needed to get to his phone, but where the fuck was it?

Kitchen counter. 

With a lurch, he pushed off of the sink, not caring about the gory trail he was leaving, which only got worse as he stumbled into the walls for balance, but he couldn't even spare the concentration to care.  He was struggling to breathe and felt like he was drowning, which he probably was, when he broke into the kitchen to find the baby gate had been broken down and watched Black Phillip ram horns first into a pale blonde woman who did not belong in the house.  Pointy ends first.  If Leon was making a bloody mess, that was only going to be worse, but he jerked his head toward the counter in search of the phone and lost his footing as he tried to expel the fluid in his lungs and nearly blacked out at the cutting sensation.  He dragged himself back up, going for the counter, and immediately went back down as something hit him, slamming his head off of the counter and dumping him unceremoniously on the floor.  From there, he could see another woman, this one taller and with the most boring shade of brown hair he'd ever seen standing over him, not that it lasted.  Phillip hit her from behind and it was disturbing to see his long horns protruding from her stomach, but strangely satisfying, given the situation.  Too bad the goat couldn't take out everyone that way.

There were more coming, apparently having realized quickly from the screams of their sisters that sending just two in wasn't quite enough, but he had no fucking clue who any of them were or how they could be connected to Cassandra's visit.  The first one in the door managed to dodge Phillip's charge, though he turned fast enough to bite her before she swung at him and forced him to jump away.  Then, with Phillip outnumbered and backing off, it was Leon wondering if he was going to die before they even reached him, and honestly kind of hoping he would.  Laying on the floor and putting all of his effort into trying to breathe was a pretty rotten way to go, all things considered, even if Phillip came back in for an encore with his hex doll lovey, which he dropped on the floor and stomped the fuck out of very suddenly, dropping the woman who had previously chased him off with a string of startled, agonized screams that cut off as suddenly as they started, leaving what looked like a trampled mess of a body where she'd been.  That was both disturbing and effective.

Too bad his consciousness was swimming, the roar of blood in his ears growing deafening, or was that the ocean?  It sounded like a storm rising over the sea almost, the salty, coppery taste of blood on his lips giving way to the impression of saltwater that was washed away by sharp, stinging rain and the acrid scent of smoke.  He gasped, and though it tasted and reeked of blood, precious air tinged with ozone flooded his lungs, still agonized but relieved at the oxygen they could get.  There was a crack of thunder in his ears, reverberating through his entire being as something snapped inside of him.  The feeling that rushed through him was electric and ecstatic, but also possessed such a feral outrage that the enjoyment of being unchained was nearly overshadowed by the fury that possessed him.  How dare they.

He drew himself to his feet, the magic thrumming through his body and clearing away the tearing and cutting that had been done to him internally, and every part of him felt like it was practically vibrating with the need to do something.  He felt like there was a big cat inside of him that had been cooped up and was stretching coiled muscles after too long, and he stepped right up to the next woman who came for him, a knife in her hand.  He didn't even get so far as touching her before she choked and dropped the weapon, but he wrapped his left hand around her throat right after, not squeezing, but holding her.  He flicked his other hand in the direction of what seemed to be the last two and lightning flashed like a whip, thunder crack deafening in the close quarters of the house as it arced from one body to the next. 

"Shhh, you never should have come here," he whispered to the witch in his grip, voice far too gentle, too soothing for the situation but fitting the faraway look and strange light to his eyes.  It was like the storm was in them and he was lost in it, dark and lit by the lightning itself over the water, and she trembled as he locked those eyes on her.  "I see them."

He brought his right hand forward, pressing it over her sternum and then giving a sharp shove right as he released her throat.  That she fell backwards was no surprise, but her body convulsing with the electricity that he'd just slammed through her kept her on her feet until the magic of it pulsed through her and across the connection she had with her sisters in the coven.  The others were stood in a circle in someone's house, hands held and working the magic that had been cutting him up inside.  From one sister to the next, lightning sparked up and through each one of them, unable to release each other or get away due to the force of it until the closed circuit fried all of them and the burst of power sent them sprawling.

With no further threats to handle, he turned wordlessly, reaching to brush Phillip's ear affectionately as he passed the goat and closing up the long slash that the animal had taken in his defense, but gave no other indication that he was even aware as he went out the glass door to the backyard.  The sky above the house had darkened with the storm that had been drawn in by this power, and the wind and rain blew in furiously as he turned his face up to the sky.  He had to work off this energy, had to expel it before it burned him up from the inside or he simply lost himself, because he was barely hanging on as it was.  There was only the barest sense to him about desperately not wanting to be washed away in all of this, but there was so much power built up inside of him that he was honestly amazed that it hadn't broken sooner.  It just went to show how good Bambi had gotten at the bindings, and certainly explained why he was feeling so damn rotten from trying to contain it.

There was sure as hell no containing it now.  He could only try to find a way to direct it, and so he focused it into the sky above him and the ground at his feet, urging it to spread, to even out and dissipate.  The storm that had descended upon a beautiful evening turned the skies black, tree branches whipping in the ferocious winds, and the wildness of the woods beyond the backyard exploded towards him in a wave of growth and life.  When he finally collapsed, spent, the grass was soft and drenched, and the goat that wasn't just a goat watched from the open glass door, blood still dripping down its face from its horns.