[i][center][h1]Stop...Mikey Time![/h1][/center][/i]

Mike and his diefic buddies took a short bit to load up Micheal's gear into the vehicle. And then the gods piled into the trunk with it. Micheal sighed and shut the trunk grumbling, "If I look to find you all playing cards with dogs again I swear I'm commiting myself." He gets into the car and settles in. The whole way rubbing his arm, soothing the magical burns.

It's as they get to the apartment block that Mike gets out of the car, opens the trunk and puts on his gear. Leather vest, buckskin pants, slippers and the fingerless gloves with the symbolic embroidery. He sighs and rubs at the bandages again, unable to hide them now with the vest on and the long sleeved shirt he was wearing gone. He sighs, "Okay this will go fine right?" And the shooting started, he gripped his tomahawk in hand and ducked into cover. Once behind something solid he breaks out his ritual kit. And as he kneels there looking through things he bites his lip, "I don't know what to do..." He closes his eyes and begins to panic just abit.

Then his godly friends arrive. And it's they who are his voice of reason for once. Whiskeyjack saying, "Calm down [i]nitisan[/i] breathe." Raven at his back patting it, "You know what you need to do." And Manabozho kneeling at his left side says, "Trust in your training, trust in us and trust in your friends. You can do this."

Micheal takes a few deep breaths, deep in and out calming himself as the fighting starts. Reopening his eyes and scanning his equipment, he then grabs a knife and a hunk of tree fungus handing it too Whiskeyjack, "cut that up, fine as you can." He picks up a packet of tobacco and hands that and a grinder to manabozho, "Fine as you can there too." He then picks his pipe out of there. Raven blinking, "You want to smoke? Now?" Micheal shakes his head, "Tobacco and fungus together, you take the sage and break it up. Mix is all together, I'm going to try a wind spell." The three gods who started their tasks look at him like he grew another head, "A wind spell what's that going to do?" Micheal shakes his head, "Okay so not quite a wind spell, but a smoke and cloud spell." Manabozho snorts, "There is no such...wait..." Whiskeyjack nearly drops the knife, "There is no such spell...are you suggesting..." The three gods say it together, "A new ritual? You know how dangerous the Elders say making a new ritual on the fly under stress is right?"

Micheal nods, "I know what they say but we're short on time. I burn myself out for a night then so be it. Finish up quickly!" He in the meantime begins to clean the bowl of the pipe. In a matter of minutes and seeing Red get into the game he's got his pipe ready and the sliced up ingredients are being packed into the bowl. It's a sphere of calm in the middle of the fight as Micheal and the Gods work. Soon he's packing that bowl, and sitting down, lighting up with the help of Raven, while Whiskeyjack and Manabozho bring up a pair of shields. Micheal lights up, and on the first pull of the concotion, the air stills about him, and he prays, "Spirits of wind, spirits of storm, spirits of dust and ash and cloud. Heed me, hear me. I call your aid..." HE takes another pull the magic seeming to condense about him, "Hear me spirits of the land, the sky and the water and of life. We fight this way to stop great evil, and to carry the day against anger, pain, and manipulation! Help us!" The magic of this new ritual seems to harden, then soften, as clouds begin to form around the Shaman. Mickey's eyes open, the glowing power of a shaman's ritual magic blazing in them, "Spirits! Hold my foes, help my allies. May my allies strike true! My foes strikes fail! Spirits! I call on you!"

Like a compression bomb, the magic condenses again before shooting out, clouds of dust and water vapor forming in the way of the enemy shooters. condensation appearing on the windows of the enemy who are trying to direct fire. And much to Micheal's surprise there's a crackle of lightinng on the air, as an honest to god storm begins to form above them. Before a bolt of lightning comes hissing down, missing Amanda where she's stands angles just above the ground then hisses into the building and explodes lashing it's electrical energy into a man who was raising a large big bore rifle aiming for Amanada. Micheal smiling, as tears of shamnanic power tear from his eyes, he rises his hand, still holding his pipe, "More!" He calls, as another lightning bolt accompanied by a blast of thunder hammers down and takes out a window, exposing the enemy to his allies fire. "And again!" he calls, the spirits come to their aid answering as a gust of wind and dust throw off the aim of another shooter.

All the while the three gods are laughing and cheering, Whiskeyjack his arms in the air and crowing, "He did it! The Mad man created a new ritual from scratch! Without testing it! And it worked! The utter mad man! Yes!" The god tips his head back and war whoops to the sky, cheering on the spirits and cheering on his shaman friend.