“Oh, I know that as much. This sort of power shouldn’t be wielded with ignorance,” Integral agreed, brushing her fingers on the spines of the books closest to her, quickly scanning their names. There were languages she could not understand. Perhaps written in an alphabet older than man. “Not only children, adults could be equally as unaware and probing.” Mistakes about New Age stuff and all that sort of fancy new tendencies were not beyond impossible.
When the dust rose, Integra waved her hand dismissingly, clearing the air around her. The atmosphere was stale and she thanked for the taste of the tobacco burning in her lungs that lessened the scent to the nauseating sweet lavender and the filth bellow it. She swore she could spot cobwebs on the corners of the wall. Nobody ever bothered to clean this place?
“Higher powers,” she repeated like if that was a funny joke, “Higher powers in normal faith do not act like this. Even if United Kingdom is devoted to the Anglican Church, there isn’t such a material relationship.” Her fingers pressed against the borders of her cigar and took it out her mouth, crumbling the ashes gathered on the consumed tip. Nobody had offered her an astray at the counter - another lack of courtesy. “There isn’t even a struggle when the roles are defined. Supernatural are either the servants of humanity or their mindless banes. They do not have a place in the hierarchy. Humans are both, their masters and their preys. This is a grand cultural shock to me.”