It’s always those middle men who finally fuck things up for the real Bad Guy
and in this case, no different.
Threatened by a power source they did not understand,
they pushed the limits of their clerical rule:
they cut the flower budget!
tried to evict some members of the Guild who disagreed with them. Members of the Guild were removed from the Lector’s rota, asked not to usher.
They even took their glossy church name tags.
Can you believe it?
So now, they’re mad, and now they’re wondering what this is really about. And like the desert fathers said, a big part of a demon’s power comes from being unrecognized. But the Flower Guild is seeing it now—how these mediocre clerics are in thrall to something bigger—
inverse of the imaginal
Sir Real his mask etched over with words’ mirror images: Truth! Country! Righteousness! Faith! Man! Using those words to make a kind of poison dust he sprinkled like a wicked stepfather clouding the eyes of those who came near him—watch out! It could happen to your own neighbor in the pew, your own family—they’ll try to take away your name-tag and who knows what’s next?