Re: Esteem.
Jimmy got a spear, David got that fucking thing (what the fuck) and now it was Troy's turn. Tits the Bitch - this did not look fun.
"If I snatch that crap outta this box, y'all better hide." That was all he had to say about that. His composure was not on a David Stratford level. "Okay, c'mere Mary Poppins," the obviously rattled Native said to Thor as he approached the magic carpet bag of lies. And in he went...
Grip.It wasn't a sword... (no crap, Sherlock, what would he have used a sword for?). Thin and light. A motherfucking wand. Nothing? No freaky stuff? Ope!
The wood of the barn began to rattle, fighting the nails and braces that had been hastily put in place. Troy gripped the wand so tightly he thought it might snap in two as a vision came to him: the forest, the plot where Julian had laid, and then the decomposition that had begun within the body. It was as if he was traveling backwards from the time he and Orrin had found the body to when- "It was a demon!" The crystals at the ends of the wand began to glow - or maybe they had been, through his vision. "The thing that killed Julian wasn't..." and he felt light-headed. "It was a demon." He hadn't seen its face, but he'd felt its evil. The forest had been fighting to spit it back out. Maybe that's why it left its handiwork unfinished. The building around them began to settle, the wood coming to rest.
Once he gained his sea legs, Troy keyed straight in on Nate. "The wand chooses the wizard!" He repeated with a laugh in his voice. Nate, that son of a bitch. Had he known? Who cared? Troy looked the thing over, extremely relieved his relic wasn't something that was made out of people. "I can still carry my bow..." Troy remarked. A bigger 'weapon' might have prevented that. Inside of Hemlock, he felt an obvious change. Vigor, for one. The slumped-shouldered, tortured-lunged, thin-legged Troy seemed to have taken a side step out of the body he was now inhabiting. He looked at his brother, around David, and offered a fistbump. "Spear-chucker."