The Warp and The Weft

Chapter Eleven: The Two Types of Quaking - Philip (NSFW)

"Well," Philip said once Rebecca and the newcomer were past earshot, "He's a few cards short of a deck."

"Don't be rude," Diana chided him.

"I'm not saying he's stupid," Philip says correcting, "Just that he's jittery as hell."

"He's been through a lot over the past 24 hours," Diana said, "Putting that aside, c'mere I want to get a good look at my boy."

Philip walked over to Diana, her arms opened and Philip encircled her with his frame completely, he stood a full eight inches over her while his shoulder width was almost twice hers.

"Oh, my little boy's gotten so big," She said in a cooing voice.

"Mammon," Philip stretched out the vowels, "I'm not a kid anymore."

"Soz, am I embarrassing you?" She asked a playful note in her voice, "And you'll always be my baby, no matter how big you get."

Matthew chuckled slightly.

"Leave the poor boy be," Matthew said, a smile in his words.

Philip released his mother and turned to see his father, a pale arm extended towards him. Philip gripped his father's elbow and they embraced each other, pulling one another into a tight hug. Philip heard a gentle intake of breath and his heart skipped a beat as the memory of what coated his skin meer hours ago surfaced. Matthew quickly pulled away, eyes wide on Philip's.

"What happened?" He said, his voice wasn't a concerned request for details, it was a command. Philip swallowed audibly.

"I was wondering why you were all coiled up," Diana said quietly, "You and your sister have felt ready to spring from the moment you walked in, and don't think I didn't notice Rebecca's utter exhaustion."

Philip was silent for a few seconds before letting out a breath.

"I-" He started "I- uh- shit, um."

Diana's eyes moved from her son to just over his shoulder. Philip's ears popped slightly, a change in the pressure of the room.

"There was a little accident," a voice said.

Matthew and Philip spun around to see Margaret standing in the space vacated by Rebecca. She stood with knees together and her arms crossed, she was a woman ready for war.

"We do have doors, Ms Wilson," Matthew said with a slight lilt.

"With respect Matthew, you have made me drop a grand total of three mugs, two glasses, four phones, and a ming vase by popping up unannounced," She deadpanned, one eyebrow raised to, for all intents and purposes, her Father-in-Law, "The use of a little Time Walking when prudent cannot be that much of an issue, especially in this house of all places."

Her eyes wandered the ceilings and walls, focusing on something Matthew could not see.

"I almost have to try not to hop around, the space is so thin here." She said, returning her eyes to Matthew.

The more a type of magic is performed in a particular area the easier it becomes to use, even by other Witches. With Diana, Philip, and on occasion Margaret using their Spacial Magic over the years, the world itself almost seemed pliable in and around Les Revenants.

Philip moved from foot to foot, anxious about how easily his parents had caught on to their unusual state. Matthew rolled his eyes and placed his eyes back on his son.

"Philip Micheal Addison Sorley Bishop-Clairmont you will explain yourself," Matthew said, a tone that demanded answers clenched between his teeth, "Your sister's exhaustion can be explained through prolonged use of her magic, however, the scent of Human blood coating you from head to foot requires a more direct inquiry."