[He doesn't need the sword's actions to verify his words; Constantine knows it instinctively and there's no pride in the knowledge. He knows as well that the Medicine Seller is right. The wards aren't meant to hold forever, Christ, he's not even certain how they work or if they work out of the strange man's presence.
They're going to have to handle this. Now.]
Right. Yeah.
[Kids were still at risk and if they could get them safe, maybe he could live with whatever came after. Casting around, Constantine spotted a small room, an office of some kind, long abandoned. The beginnings of a plan forming in mind, he started untying the kids.]
Come on, you lot. Into that room over there, I'll see about getting some wards up while the medicine man here does something about those marks, yeah? He looks a bit odd, but he's like a doctor when it comes to these things. He'll see you right.
[ Fifty or more years ago, and on the other side of the world, the Medicine Seller might have explained himself with a reference to the tale of Hoichi the Earless - a variant of the magic used in the story. Instead, he just sets down his box, getting out sheaves of paper, little satin pouches and his calligraphy supplies while John ushers the gaggle of terrified children to relative safety.
He's quick and efficient, blowing on the ink to dry it quicker as something furious rumbles in the bowels of the garage, now pushing back against the wards.
Each paper is delicately folded and placed in their pouches and he hands one to each wide-eyed and trembling child. ]
Wear those close to your heart. Do not remove them until the marks on your hands have gone.
[ He narrows his eyes as the building shakes. ]
...So long as you carry the omamori, that thing will never be able to see you, however desperately it searches.
[ It would render them invisible to more benevolent forces as well, but that is hardly the most pressing issue as some of the wards the Medicine Seller placed begin to disintegrate and the building shakes more violently. With a soft hum, he returns to his medicine box, procuring a folded paper lantern, and a small glass jar full of some kind of powder that stinks of saltpeter. Constantine isn't the only one forming a plan. ]
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They're going to have to handle this. Now.]
Right. Yeah.
[Kids were still at risk and if they could get them safe, maybe he could live with whatever came after. Casting around, Constantine spotted a small room, an office of some kind, long abandoned. The beginnings of a plan forming in mind, he started untying the kids.]
Come on, you lot. Into that room over there, I'll see about getting some wards up while the medicine man here does something about those marks, yeah? He looks a bit odd, but he's like a doctor when it comes to these things. He'll see you right.
no subject
He's quick and efficient, blowing on the ink to dry it quicker as something furious rumbles in the bowels of the garage, now pushing back against the wards.
Each paper is delicately folded and placed in their pouches and he hands one to each wide-eyed and trembling child. ]
Wear those close to your heart. Do not remove them until the marks on your hands have gone.
[ He narrows his eyes as the building shakes. ]
...So long as you carry the omamori, that thing will never be able to see you, however desperately it searches.
[ It would render them invisible to more benevolent forces as well, but that is hardly the most pressing issue as some of the wards the Medicine Seller placed begin to disintegrate and the building shakes more violently. With a soft hum, he returns to his medicine box, procuring a folded paper lantern, and a small glass jar full of some kind of powder that stinks of saltpeter. Constantine isn't the only one forming a plan. ]
Impatient...
...isn't it?
Let us see if we cannot send it back.