Interview With a Goetia

[vverfault]

I’ve split this portion of my working out from my other journal as this will be a project of its own.

My intentions with this project is to walk through and experience the entirely of the Goetia in essentially a form of the 72 Goetic Challenge. I will be utilizing the Daemonolatry Goetia by S. Connolly for the enns she has written for each demon as well as their partial summaries to assist with pathworking.

Traditionally, this is a ritual of evocation. Due to lifestyle and living arrangements, I will be performing invocations and pathworking instead as this is familiar and accessible for me to do. My ritual space will include the following:

• Hand-drawn sigil with black permanent marker on white index card complete with name at the top and enn at the bottom. No circle.
• Corresponding incense as listed within aforementioned ritual book.
• Candle to assist with lighting, however not specialized for the demon in the ritual.

I will chant each enn into a trance state while gazing at the sigil in my hand. Once I feel confident that I’ve been acknowledged, and my mind is completely clear, I will set the sigil down and close my eyes. The pathworking will largely be lead by the imagery and sensation that comes to me. Within the space, I will visualize a vague humanoid figure, should the demon choose to present itself in a form that is comprehensible to me.

There is no need nor intention to ask a request of any of them. My purpose is to inquire and experience all facets of this pantheon without bias, in effort to creative a personal distinction of my own. Should I feel the need of a request, I shall ask and update the entry should it come to completion by the time I finish this challenge.

[vverfault]

BAEL
Ayer Secore On Ca Bael

Gazing at his sigil, the black ink shined with a golden hue. After several repetitions, the ink started to form with dimension as if it were a tattoo or hard crawl on parchment. Head and shoulders felt heavy when chanting. A tightness in my forehead and a scratch at the corner of my left eye.

Into the pathworking, his sigil appeared on a sand-cased metal door. It opened, with the sfx of a tombstone, to this darkened arena. A large opening overhead allowed a blanket of light down onto the golden center stage. I did not see anyone, but I hear the rumbling of what sounded like chains and a giant beast.

I took one step inside and my bare sternum was marked with his sigil.

After a while, a human-like figure stood half in the dark, half in the light. He was tan and covered in white-gold robe. He was hooded and I did not see his face. The way he spoke was with like a constant smirk and sprinkled chuckles in between. There was no arrogance, only playfulness and semi-youthful.

I had asked what he could assist me with and he promptly replied “creative freedom and wealth”. That felt a little bit obvious, so I asked that he could help with invisibility, as written, and he gave an audible “ehh” followed with:

“I view the world as a painting and any stroke of my mastery fits the picture of my will. If you want to be gone from sight, so be it. I’ll make you invisible to peers, but why would you want that?”

“I enjoy artistry and the mastery of expressive thinking. You’re a creative mind, I’m sure we have some level of understanding with each other.”

The rest of the conversation fell into a passing of visual thoughts. There was plenty of scarab/beetle imagery. A few mental images of grand gouache/acrylic paintings with golden frames. When he moved, it sounded like bells? Perhaps jewelry clinging together. Several reds, whites, teals, and yellows in all the paintings from ships to prehistoric cities.

He had asked if I wanted to pursue a request and I said no, which gave me a confused energy from him. Working coming to a close, he “walked off” speaking some more but it had faded by the time the door shut in front of me and I was back to my space.

There was no after-thoughts nor lingering feelings. It was brief and no cleansing was necessary.

[Onion]

Looking forward to this!

[vverfault]

AGARES
Rean ganen ayar da Agares

About two chants of his enn into staring at his sigil, I saw a green smoke billow over the sigil with gold flecks, like stars, mixed in. Like some sort of looping animation. Deeper into my trance, my vision locks back with a filter, as if I was staring at the index card through a vintage photo render. The sigil doesn’t necessary flash, but it started to lift off the page and that is when I knew it was time to close my eyes.

In the darkness, the sigil slightly above and in front of me. It flashed into gold on tall emerald theatre curtains. They slide open to reveal an office with ceiling-high selves stacked with all kinds of thick books. Books that look less for leisurely reading and more like audits and records. The windows had large sunflowers looking in and the light shining through the glass. In the middle sat an Elvish looking man with green hair. The sides braided back to keep out of his hallow cheek face. He wore large circular glasses and his outfit was a gold-green type of robe.

At his desk, he was writing something down in a book, as if he were keeping track of something or balancing checks. He looked at me and greeted me warmly. Agares’ energy was extremely friendly and warm.

Chatty as well with a European accent of some sort. He ushered me in to “sit” and when I attempted to introduce myself, I was stopped short with a “I already know, I’ve been expecting.”

I asked him about his work and the word that is repeated the most is “project”. I inquired that it was mentioned that he handled the finance of projects and I was told instead that “finance is what often incentivizes and push projects, so it goes hand-in-hand.” The creation, maintenance, and completion of such things are his interest as well as all the people involved. The willingness to kill quarrels between members and provide insight in conflict. I joked that it was instead mentioned that he mostly dealt with friends, not really project partners, to which his response was:

“What is friendship but a bond between people. Partners are short-term friends. Don’t be pedantic.”

Mostly summing up the discussion, he “looked to me” and said “I see that you have a drive to be involved in work like that. I can make that happen, if you want.” Which, gave me pause for a minute. I suppose, yes, there has been projects I’ve been wanting to do inside and outside of work, so he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. I was curious, so I took him up on the offer.

The instructions are simple. I take the card I drew up for him, set my intention with his name, burn the card. We “shook” on it.

I asked for a message for anyone or anything and was told:

“Don’t lose sight of what’s important to you.”

Aside the visuals, I received several images of sunflowers, bright skies, green glass, and beautiful green friends. I felt a gentle pressure on either side of my head when interacting with him.

When I had left the trance, I was invigorated and motivated for… I’m not sure. I had plenty of energy afterwards like I could take on the world. His presence did not linger, but the energy sure did.

[vverfault]

VASSAGO
Keyan vefa jedan tasa Vassago

This one went differently than the others did. I sat down and started chanting, not really focusing on the sigil yet, and the small candle I had started flickering like crazy and the incense started to form shapes next to me.

Instead of visualizing the sigil, I verbally called out “Vassago, are you here? Can you show me?” The candle had stopped before flickering taller and I started receiving visuals of ships at sea and treacherous waters along with a quiet “Hello, I am here”. Before I was able to inquire, Vassago proceeded to speak:

“Your heart is purified. Your voice is soft. I have washed you.”

I gave thanks and continued to my questioning. I asked about friendship and negotiation. He spoke with a monotonous voice just barely loud enough over what sounded like the ocean:

“I deal with surface-level emotions of the heart. The will that anchors the passion with the thought and pull it to shore.”

As far as a form, I received a vague one. A bare back in the water, spine protruding the skin. The back of the head was seen with blue-grey hair, nearly missing it as it blended with the color of the water. The rest of the body was submerged, leaving only the slithering of a finned-tail in the calm waters, like a mermaid. At some point, there was the visual of the top part of the head, ink-black eyes staring at me before they slid back into the depths.

Many images of seafoam and clear, calm waters. I asked if he would like to say anything else and he declined saying “No, thank you. Good bye. Take care.” before I saw him swim off.

After coming to my senses, the candle was still flickering. I had to verbally dismiss him before he actually left then blew out the candle.

[vverfault]

GAMIGIN
Esta ta et tasa Gamigin

Out of the few so far, I think I enjoyed chanting his enn the most. A nice cadence could be made out of it.

I chanted to a rhythm with him and noticed that the candle started flickering again. It wasn’t strong nor immediate. It’s as if it started to flicker, stopped, then started again. I had forgotten to put out some incense this time, but that was hardly an issue.

Many images of grey skies passed my mind. As if sculpting itself into my mind, a large marble sculpture, imaged to the likeliness of those in the Louvre, appeared. It was carved out of a grey marble, a man sitting and the clouds/his clothes formed this kind of arc where he was reaching the edge of. It curled into a small holder where flowers were potted. This man was leaning his hip onto a gravestone, his free hand touching the top edge. A lot of contrapposto in this one. Behind was a metal cross, haloing him.

Next to him stood a cloaked figure. A hood draped over and drooping like a hanging lily. The robe was black but the inside of the food was a white-dark purple gradient. The rest of the body was covered in this cloak like it were a blanket draped over a mannequin.

An obsidian black clawed hand caressed the statue.

I didn’t really ask a question, I spat out two words: art and necromancy. For which, Gamigin replied “art is in the soul. True beauty happens post mortem.” I felt as if he was mostly quotes for then he said, “everyone has an artistic tongue; most don’t know how to speak it.”

I saw images of gouache/acrylic paintings, though they were desaturated, but beautiful. Cased with faded metal frames.

Gamigin didn’t seem all too verbal so I asked if he had any parting messages:

“Beauty in la mort."”

He turned back to this statue and I ended the trance.

[vverfault]

MARBAS
Renich Tasa Uberaca Biasa Icar Marbas

When I was drawing up the sigil for him, I was feeling his presence immediately near me. It lingered a bit until I sat down.

This one was a little bit shorter, probably due to my lack of attention. For him, I envisioned a dark stone gray man. Like a statue in a graveyard. He had ink black hair and two stone-like wings. “Carved” into his chest was his sigil which was illuminated orange. Shirtless with ornate belt piece that had cloth suspended down to this feet on the front and back.

Given the air energy that he is, he was chipper. He appeared before me in a double-helix plume of smoke before rising out of it himself. Wide smile.

There was an incantation of thoughts between me and him with resulted in very little said. I think he did more to ease the pain in my back and shoulders than he did talking about himself. Though, when prompted, he was eager to tell me with glee the joy of repairing and destroying both the spirit and the flesh.

“Honed spirit can conquer the flesh.”

“Mind first, over body, and the rest is negligible.”

No parting words. Marbas said what needed to be said in that exchange before seeing himself off in a gust of wind.