It's Thursday, my dark and gleaming darlings. Time to gather yourselves, and plot your next moves. Listen to the voices: behind the walls, under the floors, beyond the skies. Emulate the moon as she changes. Meet the soulless gaze of the distant stars, and learn wisdom from their unspoken words. You are chosen; you are special; you are worthy.
Curse a single victim each day this week: someone horrible, someone deserving, someone who has wronged you or yours, directly or indirectly. Study one power, and take it for your own. Cultivate one ally, and bless their efforts and their growth. Feel the slow, steady pulse of the world and breathe it in. Align yourself with it. Make ready to defend it.
Stretch your talons from the shadows alone, or find others there and hunt in packs. Join the drummers and the dancers and the watchers at the high fires, or stare alone into a single candle flame. Whisper back to the night wind, or sing back to the calls of distant beasts. Craft the weapons that you will carry into battle. Hone them. Make them part of yourself.
The world is burning. Let them fear you as you cast down their works.