Patrollogs
Minas Ghost Banishing 240630
In the eerie ambiance of Arkwright Cemetery, under a haunting moonlit sky, the confrontation between Mina, Gabriel, and three ghostly pirates unfolded with an otherworldly drama. As the spirits, garbed in a curious mix of ballroom finesse and piratical menace, materialized with their spectral weaponry at the ready, Mina confidently initiated the ritual to banish them, tracing sigils in the air with a composed grace. Gabriel, demonstrating both concern and a protective instinct, remained close, assisting Mina and providing cover from the relentless spectral assaults. Despite being visibly unharmed by the ghostly gunfire, Mina's calm demeanor slightly faltered under the impact, revealing her vulnerability. Yet, her resolve did not wane as she continued the incantations, her intentions clear—to bend these restless spirits to her will and achieve peace.
As the battle against the phantoms escalated, Gabriel and Mina found themselves engaged in a deeper dialogue, revealing more about their ideals and the heavy responsibilities they bear. Gabriel, with a background hinting at a significant role within the community and a philosophical stance on the nature of evil and humanity’s capacity for it, expressed a respect for Mina's prowess as an arcanist. Throughout their exchange, the thematic undercurrents of redemption, the inherent darkness of humankind, and the quest for a better world were explored, culminating when Mina recited lines from Paradise Lost, encapsulating their struggle with an apt literary grace. In a climactic moment of unity and power, they managed to subdue and banish the specters back into the void from whence they came, leaving behind a silence filled with introspection and a shared sense of accomplishment.
(Mina's ghost banishing)
[Sat Jun 29 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, There is a last quarter moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"Usually nothing is by chance, Mister Williams," Mina remarks, her head bowing politely. She makes a delicate gesture, and in turn the aching sound of a piano rises. Breathing in, she begins to trace long sigils about the air; walking now around the three ghostly forms in a circle.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Gabriel turns his gaze about the cemetery. He stands with good posture, upright, firm. The kind of man who is accustom to being out in public, looking good in any circumstance. "Have you deal with these before?" Gabriel asks Mina. He steps forward as they begin to appear. His eyes trace along the details of their uniform. Old pirate garb, ballroom. He almost laughs, it's a bit absurd. The piano music makes him uneasy. He turns slowly to Mina. "You're right at that, and an arcanist I see. Any other surprises?" he asks with a smile. As the flintlocker goes to fire, he whistles. "Down!" And moves to crouch, pulling Mina to cover if she needs any help.
The cri`52mson sigils begin to manifest like blossoms of dark blood from the depths of the night, their glow like neon street signs, or the tallest bonfire. Careful to observe the flintlock wielder in this moment, Mina looks on with an impassive, if fascinated curiosity that does not reach her muted gaze. "I have witnessed such instances before, assisted in a small capacity. But this is my first time making such an attempt." With a sudden sign of bullets, if they could manifest she crouches and then carefully flicks her hand to try to mitigate the sigils into the fray. Should it draw the spectral flintlock-wielding pirate's attention? The slender woman's shoulders seize with stiffness as she hovers aside Gabriel. "Yourself, Mister Williams?" No urgency or desperation, no shock in the vision before her, it is clear that she does handle dangerous situations well.
Gabriel wags a hand gently. "This will be my second," he notes to Mina. Remaining low for the time being as fire rains over head. He smiles. "Well, I am City Council, a teacher at White Oak, and the Interim Acting Chief Commander of Temple Operations in Haven." He smiles at Mina. "That's about it really." If he takes offense or finds her demeanor strange, it doesn't show really. He seems perfectly content with it. Perhaps keen to keep things calm. "They're simply spirits, so, they can't truly hurt us, but...they can make us hurt, if that makes sense," he explains. He rolls his shoulders. "How are you finding Haven?" he asks.
Mina's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
"Acting Chief, that is a position of respect, then," Mina voices with some flat rise to her voice, but not in volume. A small descent to something possibility like a lilt, but nothing more. "I am merely a simple witch," she answers in turn. Then there is a small flinch, as the flintlock pirate's shot snaps at a shoulder. There is no sight of any wound, however, there are little sparks that have chewed through the silk of her blouse. "It is likely a benefit to have someone such as you in White Oak," she supposes with a small nod, agreeably, pleasant, if dulled with formality. "Yes, there is sense to it." A pause as she rises, and begins to encircle the area as the sigils are cast aside by invisible bullets; a shaker of salt in her hand and a low murmur as it seasons the ground. "Haven? It is suitable for my needs at the moment. Did you just arrive, sir?"
Gabriel winces as Mina is struck by the flintlock. "As demonstrated," he says somewhat apologetically as he moves to his feet, the hail of gunfire ending. He whispers a quiet prayer, quiet yet well practiced demonstrating himself as a man of faith perhaps? Or an esoteric conjurer. He studies her a moment, wondering perhaps if that respect is real. He smiles when she describes herself as a simple witch. "Oh? Simple hedge witch with a civic mind?" He lets out a warm chuckle. "No, though returned is accurate. Hard to be on city council as a new arrival. Haven is my second home, Boston native. But with the business here, I find I am needed here more than there." He suggests. "Your needs?" He asks. "What might those be?" he pries.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"To grow," Mina leaves it simply there. Though she appears to be a good listener as what melds with Gabriel's undertones of a prayer likely has the same connotations in her chant. They flow together, water over stones, blood over skin; certainly the sounds co-mingle but struggle to co-exist. Until they sync, just as the salt circle is formed. Surveying the interior field of the other spectres, her eyes narrow. Another few foul shots. "I'm from New York, sir," she intones, and in a sudden attempt to try to bat away any invisible maliciousness one of her fingers swoops the air as scarlet pours forth, crackling into a brief makeshift shield.
Gabriel grimaces. "Down, again." He warns Mina. He moves to drop low, pressing a hand against the ground into a crouch, as gunfire rains overhead once more. He nods simply to Mina. "You're an impressive arcanist," he tells Mina plainly. Though he doesn't seem awed. The kind of compliment one gives some who might express talent in any number of mundane things. He doesn't press at all, even as the word New York stands between them with impressive weight. He doesn't remark on it at all or pry further. "It has been a surprising one. Being tapped for the Temple is an honor, but a worrying one. There should be better candidates but, there are not. So, I am simply doing my best to help this place which stands upon the precipice remain strong, and avoid the end which comes."
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"Thank you, sir. I am merely beginning sir, experimentation in the basics of the crafts afforded to me," Mina deflects the compliment? Or, well, the stated plain words. She is modest, and does not preen, the results of if the shield is effective may come at a cost to her. The hole in her blouse is somewhere along her collar, revealing pale creamy skin. "I understand, there does seem to be a fair share of persons that have no interest in such causes or where they stand," she voices. And a cost does come, as the scarlet light breaks and shield drops. A hissing of pain through her teeth as the sightless knife smears into the cut of her blouse. In return, a quiet, guttural utterance. Instead of sending the spirit to rest, it is met with a malevolent few notes that trickle in her voice. A far cry from her speaking voice. "I assume that people would not want the world to end, neither would I." The shape wavers of the knife-wielder, and her eyes try to shut, to concentrate. A hand reaches, and lightly glazes over one of the spectre's shapes in connection. There will be no soothing now. Only a bending, and binding down into her will.
Gabriel whistles. "Watch out!" he shouts to Mina firmly, moving protectively toward her. If she'd allow, he might pull her back, if not he might try to move to put his body between hers and the assailant. But, whether or not she finds protection he still does his best to find it. "Are you?" he asks Mina in response to it. Still, he accepts her words without much complaint. "The Temples existence is in opposition to the Supernatural. But, where others sprint to a goal they'll never reach, I view it as a marathon. Pandora's boxed closed, and all the evils that spilled out returned to their proper place. Magic fades, and in time humanity rights its course," he tells Mina. "A course that includes the world not ending," he explains to Mina.
Mina's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
Gabriel is no meat shield. But there is a quiet move when Mina dodges behind him, even if it is late. Even so, as the flintlock wield continues to batter her, she maintains her concentration; a pinkish wither of effort to her sharp cheekbones. There is a grateful, polite nod somewhere in there for the blue-eyed man. "It is not realistic to think that no evil will rise after the world is set aright," she articulates.
"No, humanity needs no magic to indulge in evil," Gabriel agrees with Mina easily. "But, we both know the truth. Those unbound by morals. Without empathy, without concern for others, there exists a well of power to exploit. While I believe that the human gifts of love and comraderie are greater, the harm caused by such people and their quests for power are far greater." He exhales. "But humanity has its own innate sins, I won't ever deny that truth," he admits. He checks Mina and winces. "If you are alright, let us proceed. Once they have spent their energy you should be able to banish them, at least for a time."
"I am adequate," Mina reassures Gabriel. Her eyes flit around her shoulder to his presence, wherever he is positioned. "Have you ever read Paradise Lost?" The inquiry made in her hollow voice. An equally empty gaze surveys the spirits, and she continues to surge some focus and energy into bending their last energy into nothingness.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Gabriel gives Mina a gentle nod. "Yes." He tells her. He smiles at Mina, curious, he sticks near her, protective, dropping low to avoid the hail of fire which resumes itself towards them, almost just instinctually. "Is there a particular section that comes to mind?" he asks Mina, while spectral fire rains overhead. "I hope it isn't the better to reign line, I'd find that quite gauche considering the context."
If there is a waver of a laugh, it is not ever heard or even voiced when she circles and dips down once more. Casting the salt, Mina tightens the loop around the spectral figures.
"All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield," the savant recites.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.
As the battle against the phantoms escalated, Gabriel and Mina found themselves engaged in a deeper dialogue, revealing more about their ideals and the heavy responsibilities they bear. Gabriel, with a background hinting at a significant role within the community and a philosophical stance on the nature of evil and humanity’s capacity for it, expressed a respect for Mina's prowess as an arcanist. Throughout their exchange, the thematic undercurrents of redemption, the inherent darkness of humankind, and the quest for a better world were explored, culminating when Mina recited lines from Paradise Lost, encapsulating their struggle with an apt literary grace. In a climactic moment of unity and power, they managed to subdue and banish the specters back into the void from whence they came, leaving behind a silence filled with introspection and a shared sense of accomplishment.
(Mina's ghost banishing)
[Sat Jun 29 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, There is a last quarter moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"Usually nothing is by chance, Mister Williams," Mina remarks, her head bowing politely. She makes a delicate gesture, and in turn the aching sound of a piano rises. Breathing in, she begins to trace long sigils about the air; walking now around the three ghostly forms in a circle.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Gabriel turns his gaze about the cemetery. He stands with good posture, upright, firm. The kind of man who is accustom to being out in public, looking good in any circumstance. "Have you deal with these before?" Gabriel asks Mina. He steps forward as they begin to appear. His eyes trace along the details of their uniform. Old pirate garb, ballroom. He almost laughs, it's a bit absurd. The piano music makes him uneasy. He turns slowly to Mina. "You're right at that, and an arcanist I see. Any other surprises?" he asks with a smile. As the flintlocker goes to fire, he whistles. "Down!" And moves to crouch, pulling Mina to cover if she needs any help.
The cri`52mson sigils begin to manifest like blossoms of dark blood from the depths of the night, their glow like neon street signs, or the tallest bonfire. Careful to observe the flintlock wielder in this moment, Mina looks on with an impassive, if fascinated curiosity that does not reach her muted gaze. "I have witnessed such instances before, assisted in a small capacity. But this is my first time making such an attempt." With a sudden sign of bullets, if they could manifest she crouches and then carefully flicks her hand to try to mitigate the sigils into the fray. Should it draw the spectral flintlock-wielding pirate's attention? The slender woman's shoulders seize with stiffness as she hovers aside Gabriel. "Yourself, Mister Williams?" No urgency or desperation, no shock in the vision before her, it is clear that she does handle dangerous situations well.
Gabriel wags a hand gently. "This will be my second," he notes to Mina. Remaining low for the time being as fire rains over head. He smiles. "Well, I am City Council, a teacher at White Oak, and the Interim Acting Chief Commander of Temple Operations in Haven." He smiles at Mina. "That's about it really." If he takes offense or finds her demeanor strange, it doesn't show really. He seems perfectly content with it. Perhaps keen to keep things calm. "They're simply spirits, so, they can't truly hurt us, but...they can make us hurt, if that makes sense," he explains. He rolls his shoulders. "How are you finding Haven?" he asks.
Mina's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
"Acting Chief, that is a position of respect, then," Mina voices with some flat rise to her voice, but not in volume. A small descent to something possibility like a lilt, but nothing more. "I am merely a simple witch," she answers in turn. Then there is a small flinch, as the flintlock pirate's shot snaps at a shoulder. There is no sight of any wound, however, there are little sparks that have chewed through the silk of her blouse. "It is likely a benefit to have someone such as you in White Oak," she supposes with a small nod, agreeably, pleasant, if dulled with formality. "Yes, there is sense to it." A pause as she rises, and begins to encircle the area as the sigils are cast aside by invisible bullets; a shaker of salt in her hand and a low murmur as it seasons the ground. "Haven? It is suitable for my needs at the moment. Did you just arrive, sir?"
Gabriel winces as Mina is struck by the flintlock. "As demonstrated," he says somewhat apologetically as he moves to his feet, the hail of gunfire ending. He whispers a quiet prayer, quiet yet well practiced demonstrating himself as a man of faith perhaps? Or an esoteric conjurer. He studies her a moment, wondering perhaps if that respect is real. He smiles when she describes herself as a simple witch. "Oh? Simple hedge witch with a civic mind?" He lets out a warm chuckle. "No, though returned is accurate. Hard to be on city council as a new arrival. Haven is my second home, Boston native. But with the business here, I find I am needed here more than there." He suggests. "Your needs?" He asks. "What might those be?" he pries.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"To grow," Mina leaves it simply there. Though she appears to be a good listener as what melds with Gabriel's undertones of a prayer likely has the same connotations in her chant. They flow together, water over stones, blood over skin; certainly the sounds co-mingle but struggle to co-exist. Until they sync, just as the salt circle is formed. Surveying the interior field of the other spectres, her eyes narrow. Another few foul shots. "I'm from New York, sir," she intones, and in a sudden attempt to try to bat away any invisible maliciousness one of her fingers swoops the air as scarlet pours forth, crackling into a brief makeshift shield.
Gabriel grimaces. "Down, again." He warns Mina. He moves to drop low, pressing a hand against the ground into a crouch, as gunfire rains overhead once more. He nods simply to Mina. "You're an impressive arcanist," he tells Mina plainly. Though he doesn't seem awed. The kind of compliment one gives some who might express talent in any number of mundane things. He doesn't press at all, even as the word New York stands between them with impressive weight. He doesn't remark on it at all or pry further. "It has been a surprising one. Being tapped for the Temple is an honor, but a worrying one. There should be better candidates but, there are not. So, I am simply doing my best to help this place which stands upon the precipice remain strong, and avoid the end which comes."
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"Thank you, sir. I am merely beginning sir, experimentation in the basics of the crafts afforded to me," Mina deflects the compliment? Or, well, the stated plain words. She is modest, and does not preen, the results of if the shield is effective may come at a cost to her. The hole in her blouse is somewhere along her collar, revealing pale creamy skin. "I understand, there does seem to be a fair share of persons that have no interest in such causes or where they stand," she voices. And a cost does come, as the scarlet light breaks and shield drops. A hissing of pain through her teeth as the sightless knife smears into the cut of her blouse. In return, a quiet, guttural utterance. Instead of sending the spirit to rest, it is met with a malevolent few notes that trickle in her voice. A far cry from her speaking voice. "I assume that people would not want the world to end, neither would I." The shape wavers of the knife-wielder, and her eyes try to shut, to concentrate. A hand reaches, and lightly glazes over one of the spectre's shapes in connection. There will be no soothing now. Only a bending, and binding down into her will.
Gabriel whistles. "Watch out!" he shouts to Mina firmly, moving protectively toward her. If she'd allow, he might pull her back, if not he might try to move to put his body between hers and the assailant. But, whether or not she finds protection he still does his best to find it. "Are you?" he asks Mina in response to it. Still, he accepts her words without much complaint. "The Temples existence is in opposition to the Supernatural. But, where others sprint to a goal they'll never reach, I view it as a marathon. Pandora's boxed closed, and all the evils that spilled out returned to their proper place. Magic fades, and in time humanity rights its course," he tells Mina. "A course that includes the world not ending," he explains to Mina.
Mina's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
Gabriel is no meat shield. But there is a quiet move when Mina dodges behind him, even if it is late. Even so, as the flintlock wield continues to batter her, she maintains her concentration; a pinkish wither of effort to her sharp cheekbones. There is a grateful, polite nod somewhere in there for the blue-eyed man. "It is not realistic to think that no evil will rise after the world is set aright," she articulates.
"No, humanity needs no magic to indulge in evil," Gabriel agrees with Mina easily. "But, we both know the truth. Those unbound by morals. Without empathy, without concern for others, there exists a well of power to exploit. While I believe that the human gifts of love and comraderie are greater, the harm caused by such people and their quests for power are far greater." He exhales. "But humanity has its own innate sins, I won't ever deny that truth," he admits. He checks Mina and winces. "If you are alright, let us proceed. Once they have spent their energy you should be able to banish them, at least for a time."
"I am adequate," Mina reassures Gabriel. Her eyes flit around her shoulder to his presence, wherever he is positioned. "Have you ever read Paradise Lost?" The inquiry made in her hollow voice. An equally empty gaze surveys the spirits, and she continues to surge some focus and energy into bending their last energy into nothingness.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Gabriel gives Mina a gentle nod. "Yes." He tells her. He smiles at Mina, curious, he sticks near her, protective, dropping low to avoid the hail of fire which resumes itself towards them, almost just instinctually. "Is there a particular section that comes to mind?" he asks Mina, while spectral fire rains overhead. "I hope it isn't the better to reign line, I'd find that quite gauche considering the context."
If there is a waver of a laugh, it is not ever heard or even voiced when she circles and dips down once more. Casting the salt, Mina tightens the loop around the spectral figures.
"All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield," the savant recites.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.