Post by giles on Feb 28, 2012 19:16:17 GMT -4
Rupert Giles was stunned he had found such a dangerous item sitting innocuously on a shelf at some half rate vendor that had no idea what it was selling. That was the trouble of modern day magic shops: they were built with ideas of books and movies in mind, and not proper knowledge of the occult. They gleaned their information from the internet and pop culture, without any idea what they were really getting into.
It was actually dangerous, considering how many people out there did know what they were looking for. And what kind of people they could be. Usually, the most dangerous beings knew where to look, and shop owners who owned a business they knew nothing about were liable to get themselves killed.
Giles probably just saved not only the shop owner's life, but countless others. He got to this artifact before anyone else who might know its true power could.
And use it for destruction.
The innocuous looking little statue seemed to be a run of the mill pewter casting of some unknown figure. It would look cool on a mantle, or a display case. kids would probably use it to give their edgy room another dark look to express their individualism and dark souls that no one understands. But that would be a mistake.
That would get them eaten by a demon.
The statue was encased in a strange, clear box. It was not for its protection: it was for the protection of everyone else. The statue inside was not preserved in mint condition for collection sake, it was locked away to keep the demon sealed inside from escaping. Opening the box was the only way to break the seal, and it could only be done from the outside. A simple, but effective lock that sealed away a demon that was rather dangerous and very fond of the taste of humans.
It had to stay in the box. Giles spent a ridiculous amount on the statue, and though the waste of money was regrettable it was certainly worth it in the end. He had wished he hadn't given away just how badly he wanted it, though, as the shop keeper had bent him over the coals for it once he realized he could get away with it. Giles wasn't leaving without the item.
Now all he needed to do was walk it home without anything bad happening to it. But he felt he had done the hard part: no one knew he had it and he kept it tucked under his arm possessively, protectively, his steps fast as he hurried his way back home.
It was actually dangerous, considering how many people out there did know what they were looking for. And what kind of people they could be. Usually, the most dangerous beings knew where to look, and shop owners who owned a business they knew nothing about were liable to get themselves killed.
Giles probably just saved not only the shop owner's life, but countless others. He got to this artifact before anyone else who might know its true power could.
And use it for destruction.
The innocuous looking little statue seemed to be a run of the mill pewter casting of some unknown figure. It would look cool on a mantle, or a display case. kids would probably use it to give their edgy room another dark look to express their individualism and dark souls that no one understands. But that would be a mistake.
That would get them eaten by a demon.
The statue was encased in a strange, clear box. It was not for its protection: it was for the protection of everyone else. The statue inside was not preserved in mint condition for collection sake, it was locked away to keep the demon sealed inside from escaping. Opening the box was the only way to break the seal, and it could only be done from the outside. A simple, but effective lock that sealed away a demon that was rather dangerous and very fond of the taste of humans.
It had to stay in the box. Giles spent a ridiculous amount on the statue, and though the waste of money was regrettable it was certainly worth it in the end. He had wished he hadn't given away just how badly he wanted it, though, as the shop keeper had bent him over the coals for it once he realized he could get away with it. Giles wasn't leaving without the item.
Now all he needed to do was walk it home without anything bad happening to it. But he felt he had done the hard part: no one knew he had it and he kept it tucked under his arm possessively, protectively, his steps fast as he hurried his way back home.