Encounterlogs
Claras Odd Encounter Sr Jericho
In the quaint Black Rose Bookstore, set amidst the classical fiction section filled with literary greats, Clara, a staff member, enlists the help of her friend Ryan to reorganize the disorderly bookshelves. Their mundane task of sorting through misplaced romance novels and Heinlein classics is disrupted by an urgent call to Ryan's phone. An emergency requires their attention: an ancient artifact at the local museum has awakened due to supernatural forces, threatening the security of the town. Ryan answers the call, which propels him and Clara into action. Abandoning their bookstore responsibilities, they prepare to confront the mysterious and potentially sinister phenomenon.
As ominous clouds swirl above the museum, they signal the urgency of the situation. Inside, Ryan and Clara find themselves facing Agent Davis, who appears possessed and suspended mid-air, surrounded by dangerous mystic energies emanating from the Calista dagger. Despite Clara and Ryan's attempts to incapacitate Davis with gunfire, a protective barrier thwarting their efforts indicates a higher power at play. The entity within Davis seeks vengeance against the descendants of Zeus and offers Clara the chance to become a vessel for destruction. Clara wisely rejects the tempting proposal and, together with Ryan, manages to banish the spirit by reciting an exorcism from The Order’s archives. This results in the disappearance of both the entity and Davis, seemingly consumed by the ritual's power. With the threat neutralized, the duo exits the chaotic museum, leaving behind an unsettling calm that blankets their town once more.
(Clara's odd encounter(SRJericho):SRJericho)
[Sat Dec 16 2023]
In the Classical Fiction Section of Black Rose Book Store
Faintly lit with a delicate golden chandelier, the
store's classical fiction section is carefully and
meticulously ordered with neat rows of shelves. An
inordinately large variety of books, the sort that
students are forced to study in school, are housed
here. Jane Austen and Dickens are a few of the big
names that one might find. There are often several
copies of a single book ensuring that there is one
of a classic available for anyone who is struck by
the need to read it. Some have small comment cards
left nearby, proclaiming things like 'Brilliant!',
'Amazing' and 'Transcendent', comments most likely
written by some enthusiastic reader or a member of
staff to drum up sales for slower moving volumes.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
(An ancient artifact in the town museum has been awakened, starting a chain of supernatural events. It's up to the group to investigate and stop the impending disaster.)
Another quiet day in Haven, the chill outside held somewhat at bay by the coziness of the bookstore only interrupted by the occasional chill gust that comes looking for something to read whenever someone opens the door. The scent of brown sugar and herbal teas floats on the air, helping to banish thoughts of the cold awaiting anyone outside. Still early in the day, most patrons are just coming in for a coffee or tea then back out the door, though there are a few loitering, perusing the shelves and looking for some distraction from life's drudgery in fiction.
Clara yawns as she shows Ryan what she needs help with for the day, still waking up even with a shot of caffeine starting to make it's way through her system. "The classical fiction section, in case you need or want to know the ins and outs of Nosferatu, Wolf Man, or petty ballroom drama. People constantly pick up and put down books in the wrong spots, so organizing the shelves is a must-do."
Browsing the books as he drinks his coffee, Ryan speaks quietly with Clara as she works at the bookstore, helping her sort some of the books as he talks to her about some things, "So yeah...I think it'd be good to compare notes on some things." he says as he looks over a handful of romance novels that seemed to have been tossed aside into a pile to find a particular one, "Huh, I never knew there where this many werewolf romance novels, I guess it's it's own genre." he jokes as he slides them back into place on the shelf in alphabetical order.
A staffer slips through the area, offering Clara a wan smile, with a small cart piled with a couple dozen new arrivals and meanders through the area shelving them, begging pardon as she draws close to Clara and Ryan to place a book 'Infinite Possibilities' by Robert Heinlein on the shelf with other works by the author such as 'Starship Troopers' and 'The Man Who Sold the Moon'. She pushes the cart away quietly, just the faint squeak of one wheel announcing her arrival and departure. She is approached by a young man asking about a book by Alan Dean Foster and she responds with a warm smile, leading him away to the section where the author is found. Ryan's phone begins to offer a buzzing complaint, not the typical notification of a message or call but the urgent announcement of an emergency associated with the Order in some manner.
"One sec." Ryan offers to Clara as he puts down a copy of 'Fellowship of the Ring' and checks his phone, "Oh, oops, gotta take this." he notes as he dials a number and hold his phone up to his ear, speaking quietly, "Sup? This is Ryan. I got an alert on my phone, what do you all need, my dudes?" he asks as he glances around this section of the bookstore, speaking quietly to make sure that he isn't overheard by the unaware.
Clara continues to work, not letting the noise disrupt her too muhc, but she does toss a joke Ryan's way as the messaging device goes crazy. "Those scam callers are reaaaaaaal persistent these days, huh? Why I keep my phone on silent."
"Sir, this is special agent Davis." the neutral fellows voice responds, "We got an alert from the watch that there was a paranormal event in town and it's been triangulated to... Well, to your museum sir. Normally a general alert for whomever might be available to handle the emergency would be put out but I thought, if you were available, it would be best to contact you directly, sir." he offers in deferential tones. "There is an agent on site already and reports the disturbance centers on the Calista dagger, one of the Grecian artifacts, sir. Should I send out a general alert? "
And, blissfully ignorant of the nature of things transpiring just a short drive away, most of the patrons of the bookstore just drift through their lives of quiet desperation without regard for the darker realities that rear their head here in Haven, often doing their best to ignore them until they arrive on one's doorstep... and then it is all too often too late and defenseless naturals find themselves consumed by the voracious appetite that the darkness seems to have.
"I don't know how much help I'll be unless there is time to drop by my apartment. I can grab some gear in case it's, y'know. Rampaging super, demon attack, possession, drunken asshole. I'd like to tag along either way, though." Clara kicks the toe of her sneaker into the ground a few times, drains the rest of her capuccinno and waves Ryan towards the door. "Let's get going."
Nodding to Clara as they walk to a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural, Ryan drives her over to her apartment to get her gear and then they haul it across town to the Haven History Museum to gather with anyone available that got the alert he put out to various Order members and some trusted associates.
Outside is every bit as cold as one might expect, indeed, today is windier then most days and the gusts bite in to drive the chill a little deeper into one's bones than is typical. The Dodge van with it's reliable 318 CC engine starts up as always and the pair begin making the rounds to gather necessities, people and gear, before heading towards the museum and it's nascent dangers. Steering in that direction one can notice that the clouds above the place are much darker, ominously so, that those nearby, seeming to roil independently of the weather in the surrounding area. Likewise, as the group draws near the temperature, already chilly, dips down precipitously towards frigid single digit territory.
She bemoans her lack of proper winter clothing once again it seems, already shivering she's now near teeth chattering at the Van approaches the museum. "Fucking freezing. More than usual. Those clouds, too, look weird. Any idea what's going on, or are we walking into a minefield?" Clara takes the opportunity of waiting for a response to turn the heater in the vehicle on full blast, fiddling with some occult tokens and charms they picked up from her home once done warming their ride.
Lamenting the lack of his suit coat, that had been burned off by Cailyn earlier this week, and the cold bites through his button up shirt with ease as he shivers. "Yeah, that doesn't look any good." Ryan says as he points up at the clouds, giving Clara a nod and a smile as she blasts the heat full force in the Van, "So it's probably in the 'Ancient Civilizations' exhibit. I got a few things from overseas and a couple of gifts from some supernaturals that found their way through here. We probably didn't catalog this one right, so it isn't latent." he notes as he pulls a backpack full of weapons out of the back of the Van, "Could be some kind of ghost's Fetter or like...could totes be a demon or some kind of uh...weird thing that's bound up in that dagger? It's from Greece, so who knows...I think...?" he reaches for his phone, scrolling through it like a true Order Scroller as he checks some things from the Order's records, "Greece has been pretty full up on Demigods from House of Zeus, so we'll see."
Clara looks at the clouds at mention of Greece. Grimaces, her fears confirmed (partially) by the comment on Demigods. "Still need to do more research into them, but yeah. Greece, dagger, the sky falling? Seems like a god-related incident. Let's hope it's not a Zeus-born proper or we might be dodging lightning today."
If there is one thing that old Dodge vans have going for them, the heat works like a champ and quickly pushes the temperature high enough in the van that it holds the arctic cold at bay. As the pair approach the museum it's clear that, even without the evidence of the clouds and temperature, it's the epicenter of something... the small staff, a museum guide and a janitor, stand outside the doors at a safe distance watching the building and, closer now, it's easy to see that the clouds above it are circulating as though threatening to form a tornado or hurricane, a visible spiral with the museum in it's middle. As Ryan and Clara get out of the van the museum guide runs over to him, frantic, "That man! He went in and told us to keep our distance, to stay out of the exhibit... Then we heard his scream and everything..." she gestures up to the sky, her words coming out in puffs of water vapor, her shawl pulled uselessly snug about her. "I didn't know what to do, we just got out!" the janitor offers contritely. Both staff members are Haven natives and not ignorant of the existence of the supernatual, but usually in an abstract way that comes from hearing terrible rumors all your life that you eventually just accept as true.
"Knowing the stories about Zeus? I'd say it's more likely that most of Greece is related to him." Ryan jokes as he checks his messenger bag for a few ritual items, sorting through them as he grimaces, "Ran out of salt dealing with that ghost the other day, so I hope it's not too bad." As they pull up and get out, Ryan listens to the Museum Guide run over to him and as he opens the back doors to a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural and pulls out his backpack full of gear, strapping on a protective vest as he nods to the Guide. "Hey, thanks for letting me know, Gina. Clara and I are going to check it out. Here, have some coffee and a muffing I got from the Black Rose Bookstore, I haven't had a chance to try it yet." he hands off his muffin and coffee to her as he give a nod to Clara and moves towards the building, waving to the janitor as he mentions, "Hey, if there's some big cleanup from this, I'll grab some of the peeps to help, and I'll pay overtime."
Climbing the stairs, he readies his weapons as he peers through the doors and into the entryway.
Clara reaches down and grabs the duffel bag taken from home, seeing Ryan put on gear gives her plenty of indication to do the same, so she removes and puts on her own vest, grabs her rifle and knife, sticks a few spare magazines in her pockets in case things get too hot. She straps the bag to her bag and gives a bit of an awkward, one handed wave to the staff as their boss explains the plan to them. Instead of speaking, she turns her gaze skyward, trying to see if the sickly green color of terrible weather is spreading out from the museum any or if this is a fully localized supernatural stormfront.
Gina accepts the muffin and coffee dutifully, though it's unlikely with everything going on that she's going to do aught but hold them for him. The Janitor, Mitch, just nods, his expression pained in the manner one could expect anyone thrown into this situation without any means to deal with any of it. "Lets go sit in the my truck, Gina." he nods towards the old Sierra parked a small distance up the street. A small distance further away from the Museum. He reaches out to take Gina by the arm and leads her away, the woman looking back over her shoulder as he does, eyes a little wild with fright at everything transpiring. As Ryan and Clara approach the museum the doors shake in their jambs, likewise the windows rattle, as though something inside senses the threat represented in their presence and makes it's displeasure known through the building itself. The weather oddity above the museum seems localized there, barely impinging on the surrounding buildings. Indeed, whatever the cause it's clearly inside and focused there.
"Could be an Arcanist." Ryan notes as he glances up at the sky, "They're known for doing some kinds of weather rituals." He checks his bolt action rifle's chamber to make sure it's loaded as he nods to Clara and leads the way inside, opening the doors and taking a left at the information desk to go towards the Aquarium. Past the Aquarium would be the stairs upwards to the second floor, where the 'Ancient Civilizations' exhibit is found. "Keep your eyes peeled for anything weird. Most of this stuff is just old junk for tourists."
Clara mutters "Fucking wizards" under her breath, beginning her check for oddities and out of place sights and sounds as they start the process of clearing the building. Keeping an eye out for any traps that may have been placed, physical or arcane, to the best of her ability. "Anything interesting about the dagger itself that you know? Legends, myths...anything is better than nothing, in case this turns out to be a hostile situation."
As they draw closer the rattling of the doors increases and then, as Ryan reaches for the door, it throws itself wide open. Is it resignation to fate? Or an invitation to draw closer, a challenge. Only what awaits inside can really tell that tale. Inside the temperature drops even further, air coming out the door turning into foggy vapor, the breath of Ryan and Clara both visible as they pass through the entrance and it's information desk. There is a charge in the air like a static electricity field but it's not felt physically so much as psychically, a miasma of emotion, of rising anxiety. From upstairs there is a man's scream, the sound almost a roar that words can be discerned from, "Sose ton eafto sou! Soste ton eafto sas apo tin kolasi!" the tone starting as a plea but quickly taking on the ominous nature of a threat.
"Came in from Greece in a wooden box, some ancient scrolls I haven't translated, and like...totes had some kind of shady backstory that the dude wasn't going to tell me, he just wanted to offload it for cheap, and now I know why." Ryan mutters as he raises his rifle to his shoulder and starts climbing the stairs, following the voice as he stars down the iron sights, readying to shoot in a limb whomever is doing this ritual.
As the pair mounts the stairs the frigid air is maintained but, thankfully, the geography seems to be keeping the winds at a minimum, reducing the ability of the air to suck the heat from Ryan and Clara. Creeping up the stairs until their view crests their top, they can see into the Ancient Civilizations exhibit and what they see is not encouraging. A man, presumably Agent Davis, is there and hovers in the air about three feet off the ground. Spread eagled and doing a reasonable imitation of Vitruvian Man, one hand clutched a crossed dagger about eighteen inches in length, twelve of it the blade. Bursts of light like will-o-wisps peel off the blade and flash to the edge of the room, impacting other displays, shaking cases, knocking photos from the walls. A heavy mist hangs in the room, spiraling around it's perimeter not unlike the clouds above the museum. Davis's head is thrown back and he chants, "Apo to epikentro tis kardias mou, kalo tis lexeis. Tou thymou pou legetai kai tis epithymias pou apokalyptetai. Me tin proklisi logou kai praxis mou. Me to aima mou agiase ton olethro sou pou epikalestike. To schima kai i morfi sou den epivlithikan pote!" The words spill from unmoving lip, a prismatic, otherworldly shift to the sound as though the words are more felt than heard.
Ryan has Rifles discipline of 50, but no rifle in hand atm.
Ryan might not have been entirely prepared, but Clara brought a few things from home. She unzips the bag, getting a bottle of holy water and some various salts out before the shots are readied. Once done, she lines up her shots accordingly, though she is notably not as accurate as her partner is when it comes to precision shooting.
Clara has Rifles discipline of 15
The shots the pair fires are true as, lets face it, it's an immobile target barely a dozen yards away... but the bullets never seem to find their marks, some sort of barrier surrounding the man's form and flashing a brilliant blue when the bullets strike. There is a high pitched sound as the shot are reflected, bouncing away to bore holes in the walls and one Egyptian mask that falls to the floor, the cheek shattered. Davis drops to the floor now, whatever held him aloft suddenly absent, and lands in a kneel, the dagger still in hand. He looks up at the pair and his eyes shine silver, the ghostly image of a black haired woman overlaying his form and he smiles at the pair where they stand on the stairs. He smiles viciously in mirror of the woman's image, a female voice calling out, "Oi anemoi tha svisoun to onoma sou. I ammos ta ichni tou monopatiou sou. O ilios i drosia tis skias sou. Kai sta nera prostazo tin ousia sou. To schima kai i morfi sou den epivlithikan pote!"
"Aah shit!" Ryan curses as he drops the rifle, taking a glance over at the Egyptian Mask with a wince as he imagines that one was really expensive and probably on loan, pulling a short staff off his back, Ryan comes towards the man who has been possessed by the spirit and tries to engage with his (hopefully) longer reach with the staff. "Hey Davis, dude? You can put the knife down, we got it from here." he asks kindly as he approaches.
Ryan has blunt weapons of 20 (30) with striking.
Ryan also has Ballistic armor discipline of 25
Clara upon seeing the bullets having no effect, flicks the safety on her gun and drops it, choosing to grab the holy water and the salt. Once the man begins talking, she responds with "Don't you know what happens to people who try to escape Hades? Never ends well." As she talks, she begins forming a circle of salt around the man as best she can.
The apparition that has overwhelmed the man laughs, a sinister sound that echoes through the room and is as much felt as heard. The voice calls out again, still shifted prismatically, "Bring me the scions of Jove! Bring me the blood of the one who deceived, the one who destroyed, the one who bears the blame for all misfortune. On him I place the challenge, on his spirit I speak woe!" she calls out to Ryan, rising to her... his... whatever... feet to stand there with the dagger clutched in hand. "Only then will I release this being from his servitude, when I can take retribution on the line of Jove!" The dagger is lifted high in the air, shards of energy still flashing off it, "On their Physical form I call the words of rendering"
(repost) The apparition that has overwhelmed the man laughs, a sinister sound that echoes through the room and is as much felt as heard. The voice calls out again, still shifted prismatically, "Bring me the scions of Jove! Bring me the blood of the one who deceived, the one who destroyed, the one who bears the blame for all misfortune. On him I place the challenge, on his spirit I speak woe!" she calls out to Ryan, rising to her... his... whatever... feet to stand there with the dagger clutched in hand. "Only then will I release this being from his servitude, when I can take retribution on the line of Jove!" The dagger is lifted high in the air, shards of energy still flashing off it, "On their Physical form I call the words of rendering. On their Hates I invoke Justice, thy anger unappeased. On their Past in shadows I shine the light revealed. On their Loves and joys I gift separation. On their Spirit I speak abandonment. On their Future I bring fear and grief. On them I Invoke all!" As the apparition speaks the storm begins to grow in strength, swirling around them like a tornado as the mists are drawn in closer to Davis's form.
"Bruh, look, hey...okay, so like this is America? Massachusetts. I don't if we have any uh...'Scions of Jove' here, my dude. So like...if you totes put the dagger down, I promise to ship you to one of those dudes, and you can figure all that out, okay lady ghost spirit thing? Give us Davis back and we can totes talk about the uh...blood and all that, cool cool?" he holds his staff at the ready, trying some diplomacy with the entity as Ryan glances over at Clara starting a ritual.
Hurries to finish her circle, once done handing the bottle of holy water to Ryan. "We had this talk last night. Broken not-entirely there remnants of people that once were. I doubt she'll listen to us when we say that the Scions of Jove are likely long since dead, that she's halfway across the planet attached to a dagger that hasn't been used in hundreds of years. You got an exorcism prayer in you? I can look some up, just. Uh. Try not to get stabbed?" She gives a weak smile, returning to her gun and readying it just in case. Didn't work the first time, but maybe the second? Though Clara holds on firing until necessary.
"I will abide in him until my retribution is enacted, until the blood of Jove tastes of the misery he has caused, until the scales are balanced!" The dagger still held high, the flashes of light coming from it seem to happen more frequently, becoming brighter, almost blinding, the light beginning to envelope Davis's form entirely. At first there is a tremble from the the hand that holds the dagger aloft, the flesh starting to become veined with blackness, charred by the raw power being channeled through the natural's body, flashes of something akin to lighting in the clouds swirling around his form. Feeling the energy burning out the form she inhabits, the overimage looks to Clara, "You! Girl! Come closer... I will relinquish the dagger to you... There are echoes of power inside you, you will make an appropriate vessel." And as the apparition speaks Davis stretches his empty hand out towards Clara and she can feel an invisible force wrapping around her, beginning to pull her closer, though not with enough force to cause her to move... yet. It grows, however.
Nodding to Clara, Ryan hefts his staff into a hand and starts to Scroll through his phone, looking through some PDFs as he pulls one up, "I got one here! Hold on." he says as he begins to read something from The Order's online archives. He raises his voice as he yells loudly:
""O spirit of old, from Greece's storied past,"
"Your time in this blade shall no longer last."
"By Zeus' mighty bolt, by Athena's wise gaze,"
"Return to the ether, in the ancient days."
"From Calista's grip, I command thee, depart,"
"With the strength of Olympus, from this dagger, art."
"As Hecate's crossroads diverge in the night,"
"Be gone from this steel, vanish from sight."
"In the name of the gods, old and revered,"
"Leave this vessel, be no longer feared."
As he chants that invocation out, Ryan pours his will through it, attempting the banishing ritual as he points his finger at the man with the dagger, trying to force the spirit out of him."
This was not part of the plan. This was never part of the plan. The moment she feels the tug she knows something is off and she calls out to Ryan "If you have any bright ideas now would be the time!" In the meantime, her own idea is simple. She flicks the safety off and aims at the dagger itself, hoping to damage or break the weapon. Once the shot is fired, Clara focuses all her energies on preventing herself from being compelled, called forward.
"Hold onto something!" Ryan says, "Resist it! Put your hands in your hoodie, just don't touch it!" he says to Clara.
"No!" the image overlaying Davis screams as Ryan begins to chant the exorcism, the telekinetic tendrils tugging at Clara stopping almost immediately. The power enveloping Davis seems to recede a little with each line of the chant, the invocation more than the spirit can abide even with no regard for the vessel, willing to burn it up to draw it's life out for her own uses. "A thousand generations I have waited for my revenge, I will not be denied! At Hecate's statue I will gather my power and I will return for you! You will kneel before me and beg forgiveness!" she screams in the double voice of her own otherworldly tones and that of Davis. "I can give you power girl!" she screams to Clara. "Seek the statue west of town, find me there and I will make you a goddess amongst these mortals! No longer a wallflower, tagging along in hopes of helping! They will kneel to you, serve you, fear you!" she screams. And then Clara's shot snaps out, the hilt of the dagger struck, causing it to spin from the man's hand. A scream of anguish pours from the spirit, the clouds swirling around her, and her vessel, closing in as the flashes of energy, mystical lighting, become uncontrolled, turning in on them both. They both scream again as the air in the room is sucked into the focal point where they stand, enveloping them in a blinding flash of violet, and violent, energy... And then they are gone, the dagger falling to the blackened floor when Davis had stood. An eerie silence, in the wake of the maelstrom, is pervasive.
Wiping a small trickle blood from his nose, Ryan coughs, the copper taste of his own blood makes him wince as he feels a bit drained from the Life Force used to power the banishing spell. He comes forward and checks on Davis, seeing if the man is still alive as he uses his messenger bag to scoop up the dagger, being very careful not to touch it at all and be possessed by it, "Man, I guess I'll have to lock this away in a vault somewhere, dude." He comes back to Davis and kneels next to him, making sure to have the dagger secured before he reaches out to the man.
Glancing over at Clara, Ryan asks, "You okay?"
Clara stands up straight, flicking the safety back on and glancing at both the charred spot on the floor where Davis once stood and Ryan, nerves high. She makes a few tense, terse steps towards the museum's owner, stops inside the salt circle and stares at the dagger. "I'm. Uh...No, not really. But I will be, one day, maybe."
Davis is gone, vanished when the burst of energy from the collapse of the mystical energy surrounding him imploded and vanished. From the scent in the air and charred spot on the floor it seems likely he was incinerated.
Clara says "I'm going to go check on your employees since we seem to have resolved the situation. "
"Fuck, man." Ryan says as he looks over at the blackened spot on the floor, "Hope you find some peace in the next life, Davis. If you ghost back here, let me know, I'll try to help." and then he follows Clara back out the door.
Nodding to her, Ryan gathers his rifle and comes with her, "Yeah, I definitely need to pay Mitch overtime for this."
The room is, as one might expect after something like this, in shambles. The damage of the guns aside, their contribution to the disaster minimal, the flashes of mystical power leave charred marks on displays and walls alike, broken objects and glass litter the floor and it seems very much like hell came to town and brought friends. Atleast the effect was localized here. Ryan is able to gather the dagger without touching it and there is a slight hum to the metal, the power contained within seeming to strain against it's imprisonment. As the pair move through the museum, downstairs towards the exit, the effects of the objects tantrum become much less pronounced, no damage on the first floor aside from a few brochures scatted about at the information desk. Stepping outside, Mitch's truck is gone, both employees along with it, though if Ryan were to check his phone there is a message from Gina that he, reasonably I think, didn't notice in the moment. 'Getting crazy out here. We will see you tomorrow. Don't die!'.
Looking at his phone, Ryan shows Clara the text message, "Looks like Mitch and Gina left and they'll see me tomorrow." he lets out a sigh as he shrugs, "That's fair. I'll still pay them the whole day...uh...'special holiday' I guess."
Clara scratches the back of her neck as she looks around. The amount of normalcy in the world after the past ten minutes feels uncomfortable. The possibility that things might have all worked out...save for the Special Agent, doesn't register for a good while. "I'm, uh. I'm gonna go home, I think. Tell the boss some stuff came up. I need a nap."
Nodding, Ryan opens the van passenger door for Clara as he tosses his gear in, pulling off his vest as he says, "Sounds good. I'll pick you up a hot drink on the way back to help you sleep."
*Closing Credits*
Thanks for playing guys, hope you enjoyed it, going to summon you both back to the Black Rose to make it easier to get back to your vehicles.
Jessica is making her way down the street towards White oak, she's fresh to Haven and carefree. It's not obvious how much she's aware of things, she seems innocent enough as she moves down the street with her airpods in. She mouths some words, occasionally pronouncing a few going along with the music, "Mama, I like boys, I like Pecs, Like them arms when they flex.."
Navigating the road, Jessica senses an unspoken tension in the air, that something is off. As she makes her way down the road, the currents of the crowd seem to shift, and the young woman becomes acutely aware of glares and sidelong glances directed her way. A large middle-aged man maneuvers through the throng of moving people with a deliberate intent as he collides with someone, causing the small airpods to tumble from her ears and onto the pavement. There's no apology offered, as he just countinues along as if nothing had happened.
A few people stop to watch. They're whispering to one another and snickering.
Navigating the road, Jessica senses an unspoken tension in the air, that something is off. As she makes her way down the road, the currents of the crowd seem to shift, and the young woman becomes acutely aware of glares and sidelong glances directed her way. A large middle-aged man maneuvers through the throng of moving people with a deliberate intent as he collides with Jessica, causing the small airpods to tumble from her ears and onto the pavement. There's no apology offered, as he just countinues along as if nothing had happened.
A few people stop to watch. They're whispering to one another and snickering.
Being a New York city girl, Jessica may not be a stranger to crowds, but she is a stranger to being stared at and so she looks back at the people, "What you've never seen an Asian bit-" she gets knocked into, losing her airpods. She looks immediately furious and talks with her hands at the back of the man walking away, "Hey what the fuck, watch where you are going!" she shakes her head then stoops to collect her expensive earpods.
Before Jessica is able to retrieve her fallen earpods. A young man suddenly darts forward delivers a swift kick to the fallen devices, sending them skittering across the pavement and into a nearby bush off the side of the road, with a sense of satisfaction. Jessica's words don't seem to go ignored as the large middle-aged man whirls around upon a foot to face the young woman, "That's my line. Those squinty eyes make you blind or something, huh?"
Several people seem to snicker at this overt and completely unacceptable show of overt of racism. You'd think that more people would feel sympathy for poor Jessica, who has done nothing wrong, but everyone seems to be revelling in her suffering. More people stop to watch with more interest than this sort of scene would really deserve. A few have taken out phones and have begun to record.
Seated alone on a weathered bench, a heavily-scarred teenager leans forward, his lips moving in a rhythmic cadence that mimics the soft whispers of an incantation, like something from a horror movie. It's probably nothing but a weirdo having a moment, right?
Jessica's brain temporarily short circuits when the man kicks her airpods away. She stans traight and looks at the man with initial shock then her fight and flight response chooses firmly to fight, verbally, she cusses the man out and gets all in his face saying, "Hey, you trailer trash piece of shit, those are expensive."
a tirade of obscenities and ranting comes out of the blonde Asian girl, stuff that would certainly make it on Tik Tok with how far she's going. When she finally finishes she starts to move towards the bush to try and find her beloved ear pods, temporarily unaware she's still being targetted.
Jessica's rightful indigitation seems to fall on deaf ears. Foraging through the bush, Jessica sifts through the foliage with determined hands, fingers brush against branches and twigs, before her hand triumphantly closes around the familiar contours of her AirPods.
The soft whispers of onlookers linger in the air. Words like "crazy" and "obsessed" are being exchanged in hushed tones as they countinue to watch Jessica far more attentively than they'd really ought to be.
The middle-aged man who'd bumped into Jessica earlier speaks into his phone with urgency. That piece of shit seems to be in the process of calling the police on poor Jessica. The young man who'd kicked Jessica's airpods sort of lingers near by, heckling her as she searches for her belongings he'd kicked into a bush for no real reason, "They are pretty expensive. Doubt you could afford them. Who'd you steal them from?"
Jessica grasp the airpods in hand, victorious. She stuffs them into her hoodie pocket to stash them away safely. When she turns back to the men who screwed with her she remembers she literally just had a spat with them. "Where did you steal those jeans? The Salvation army?" she snaps back.
She seems to realize that the middle aged man is calling the police, this initially causes more confusion but then a thought that maybe getting arrested in the first day of being here would undoubtly cause some trouble with her family back home. She turns heel and begins to walk off at a quickened pace, aiming to avoid the school so that she doesn't let on she is going there. She'll circle back once the coast is clear...
In the bustling street, Jessica quickens her pace in a retreat, creating a deliberate distance between herself and the persistent hecklers. The young man continues his unwarranted pursuit for a little while, still trying to countinue the arguement. The distance Jessica cleverly creates serves as a barrier, and with a frustrated huff, the young man finally gives up and goes about his day doing whatever he was doing before he decided to harass a stranger for no real reason.
Later, when Jessica would circle around, she'd find the heavily-scarred teenager on the bench is now gone. And so too is the unusual, excessive hostility she'd been victim too earlier, and she's able to get to white oak without further such strangeness.
Jessica brushes off the whole encounter as a unfortunate accident meeting a bunch of racist rural americans. She hopes once she's in White Oak there will be enough international students that will be a lot more her type.
As ominous clouds swirl above the museum, they signal the urgency of the situation. Inside, Ryan and Clara find themselves facing Agent Davis, who appears possessed and suspended mid-air, surrounded by dangerous mystic energies emanating from the Calista dagger. Despite Clara and Ryan's attempts to incapacitate Davis with gunfire, a protective barrier thwarting their efforts indicates a higher power at play. The entity within Davis seeks vengeance against the descendants of Zeus and offers Clara the chance to become a vessel for destruction. Clara wisely rejects the tempting proposal and, together with Ryan, manages to banish the spirit by reciting an exorcism from The Order’s archives. This results in the disappearance of both the entity and Davis, seemingly consumed by the ritual's power. With the threat neutralized, the duo exits the chaotic museum, leaving behind an unsettling calm that blankets their town once more.
(Clara's odd encounter(SRJericho):SRJericho)
[Sat Dec 16 2023]
In the Classical Fiction Section of Black Rose Book Store
Faintly lit with a delicate golden chandelier, the
store's classical fiction section is carefully and
meticulously ordered with neat rows of shelves. An
inordinately large variety of books, the sort that
students are forced to study in school, are housed
here. Jane Austen and Dickens are a few of the big
names that one might find. There are often several
copies of a single book ensuring that there is one
of a classic available for anyone who is struck by
the need to read it. Some have small comment cards
left nearby, proclaiming things like 'Brilliant!',
'Amazing' and 'Transcendent', comments most likely
written by some enthusiastic reader or a member of
staff to drum up sales for slower moving volumes.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
(An ancient artifact in the town museum has been awakened, starting a chain of supernatural events. It's up to the group to investigate and stop the impending disaster.)
Another quiet day in Haven, the chill outside held somewhat at bay by the coziness of the bookstore only interrupted by the occasional chill gust that comes looking for something to read whenever someone opens the door. The scent of brown sugar and herbal teas floats on the air, helping to banish thoughts of the cold awaiting anyone outside. Still early in the day, most patrons are just coming in for a coffee or tea then back out the door, though there are a few loitering, perusing the shelves and looking for some distraction from life's drudgery in fiction.
Clara yawns as she shows Ryan what she needs help with for the day, still waking up even with a shot of caffeine starting to make it's way through her system. "The classical fiction section, in case you need or want to know the ins and outs of Nosferatu, Wolf Man, or petty ballroom drama. People constantly pick up and put down books in the wrong spots, so organizing the shelves is a must-do."
Browsing the books as he drinks his coffee, Ryan speaks quietly with Clara as she works at the bookstore, helping her sort some of the books as he talks to her about some things, "So yeah...I think it'd be good to compare notes on some things." he says as he looks over a handful of romance novels that seemed to have been tossed aside into a pile to find a particular one, "Huh, I never knew there where this many werewolf romance novels, I guess it's it's own genre." he jokes as he slides them back into place on the shelf in alphabetical order.
A staffer slips through the area, offering Clara a wan smile, with a small cart piled with a couple dozen new arrivals and meanders through the area shelving them, begging pardon as she draws close to Clara and Ryan to place a book 'Infinite Possibilities' by Robert Heinlein on the shelf with other works by the author such as 'Starship Troopers' and 'The Man Who Sold the Moon'. She pushes the cart away quietly, just the faint squeak of one wheel announcing her arrival and departure. She is approached by a young man asking about a book by Alan Dean Foster and she responds with a warm smile, leading him away to the section where the author is found. Ryan's phone begins to offer a buzzing complaint, not the typical notification of a message or call but the urgent announcement of an emergency associated with the Order in some manner.
"One sec." Ryan offers to Clara as he puts down a copy of 'Fellowship of the Ring' and checks his phone, "Oh, oops, gotta take this." he notes as he dials a number and hold his phone up to his ear, speaking quietly, "Sup? This is Ryan. I got an alert on my phone, what do you all need, my dudes?" he asks as he glances around this section of the bookstore, speaking quietly to make sure that he isn't overheard by the unaware.
Clara continues to work, not letting the noise disrupt her too muhc, but she does toss a joke Ryan's way as the messaging device goes crazy. "Those scam callers are reaaaaaaal persistent these days, huh? Why I keep my phone on silent."
"Sir, this is special agent Davis." the neutral fellows voice responds, "We got an alert from the watch that there was a paranormal event in town and it's been triangulated to... Well, to your museum sir. Normally a general alert for whomever might be available to handle the emergency would be put out but I thought, if you were available, it would be best to contact you directly, sir." he offers in deferential tones. "There is an agent on site already and reports the disturbance centers on the Calista dagger, one of the Grecian artifacts, sir. Should I send out a general alert? "
And, blissfully ignorant of the nature of things transpiring just a short drive away, most of the patrons of the bookstore just drift through their lives of quiet desperation without regard for the darker realities that rear their head here in Haven, often doing their best to ignore them until they arrive on one's doorstep... and then it is all too often too late and defenseless naturals find themselves consumed by the voracious appetite that the darkness seems to have.
"I don't know how much help I'll be unless there is time to drop by my apartment. I can grab some gear in case it's, y'know. Rampaging super, demon attack, possession, drunken asshole. I'd like to tag along either way, though." Clara kicks the toe of her sneaker into the ground a few times, drains the rest of her capuccinno and waves Ryan towards the door. "Let's get going."
Nodding to Clara as they walk to a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural, Ryan drives her over to her apartment to get her gear and then they haul it across town to the Haven History Museum to gather with anyone available that got the alert he put out to various Order members and some trusted associates.
Outside is every bit as cold as one might expect, indeed, today is windier then most days and the gusts bite in to drive the chill a little deeper into one's bones than is typical. The Dodge van with it's reliable 318 CC engine starts up as always and the pair begin making the rounds to gather necessities, people and gear, before heading towards the museum and it's nascent dangers. Steering in that direction one can notice that the clouds above the place are much darker, ominously so, that those nearby, seeming to roil independently of the weather in the surrounding area. Likewise, as the group draws near the temperature, already chilly, dips down precipitously towards frigid single digit territory.
She bemoans her lack of proper winter clothing once again it seems, already shivering she's now near teeth chattering at the Van approaches the museum. "Fucking freezing. More than usual. Those clouds, too, look weird. Any idea what's going on, or are we walking into a minefield?" Clara takes the opportunity of waiting for a response to turn the heater in the vehicle on full blast, fiddling with some occult tokens and charms they picked up from her home once done warming their ride.
Lamenting the lack of his suit coat, that had been burned off by Cailyn earlier this week, and the cold bites through his button up shirt with ease as he shivers. "Yeah, that doesn't look any good." Ryan says as he points up at the clouds, giving Clara a nod and a smile as she blasts the heat full force in the Van, "So it's probably in the 'Ancient Civilizations' exhibit. I got a few things from overseas and a couple of gifts from some supernaturals that found their way through here. We probably didn't catalog this one right, so it isn't latent." he notes as he pulls a backpack full of weapons out of the back of the Van, "Could be some kind of ghost's Fetter or like...could totes be a demon or some kind of uh...weird thing that's bound up in that dagger? It's from Greece, so who knows...I think...?" he reaches for his phone, scrolling through it like a true Order Scroller as he checks some things from the Order's records, "Greece has been pretty full up on Demigods from House of Zeus, so we'll see."
Clara looks at the clouds at mention of Greece. Grimaces, her fears confirmed (partially) by the comment on Demigods. "Still need to do more research into them, but yeah. Greece, dagger, the sky falling? Seems like a god-related incident. Let's hope it's not a Zeus-born proper or we might be dodging lightning today."
If there is one thing that old Dodge vans have going for them, the heat works like a champ and quickly pushes the temperature high enough in the van that it holds the arctic cold at bay. As the pair approach the museum it's clear that, even without the evidence of the clouds and temperature, it's the epicenter of something... the small staff, a museum guide and a janitor, stand outside the doors at a safe distance watching the building and, closer now, it's easy to see that the clouds above it are circulating as though threatening to form a tornado or hurricane, a visible spiral with the museum in it's middle. As Ryan and Clara get out of the van the museum guide runs over to him, frantic, "That man! He went in and told us to keep our distance, to stay out of the exhibit... Then we heard his scream and everything..." she gestures up to the sky, her words coming out in puffs of water vapor, her shawl pulled uselessly snug about her. "I didn't know what to do, we just got out!" the janitor offers contritely. Both staff members are Haven natives and not ignorant of the existence of the supernatual, but usually in an abstract way that comes from hearing terrible rumors all your life that you eventually just accept as true.
"Knowing the stories about Zeus? I'd say it's more likely that most of Greece is related to him." Ryan jokes as he checks his messenger bag for a few ritual items, sorting through them as he grimaces, "Ran out of salt dealing with that ghost the other day, so I hope it's not too bad." As they pull up and get out, Ryan listens to the Museum Guide run over to him and as he opens the back doors to a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural and pulls out his backpack full of gear, strapping on a protective vest as he nods to the Guide. "Hey, thanks for letting me know, Gina. Clara and I are going to check it out. Here, have some coffee and a muffing I got from the Black Rose Bookstore, I haven't had a chance to try it yet." he hands off his muffin and coffee to her as he give a nod to Clara and moves towards the building, waving to the janitor as he mentions, "Hey, if there's some big cleanup from this, I'll grab some of the peeps to help, and I'll pay overtime."
Climbing the stairs, he readies his weapons as he peers through the doors and into the entryway.
Clara reaches down and grabs the duffel bag taken from home, seeing Ryan put on gear gives her plenty of indication to do the same, so she removes and puts on her own vest, grabs her rifle and knife, sticks a few spare magazines in her pockets in case things get too hot. She straps the bag to her bag and gives a bit of an awkward, one handed wave to the staff as their boss explains the plan to them. Instead of speaking, she turns her gaze skyward, trying to see if the sickly green color of terrible weather is spreading out from the museum any or if this is a fully localized supernatural stormfront.
Gina accepts the muffin and coffee dutifully, though it's unlikely with everything going on that she's going to do aught but hold them for him. The Janitor, Mitch, just nods, his expression pained in the manner one could expect anyone thrown into this situation without any means to deal with any of it. "Lets go sit in the my truck, Gina." he nods towards the old Sierra parked a small distance up the street. A small distance further away from the Museum. He reaches out to take Gina by the arm and leads her away, the woman looking back over her shoulder as he does, eyes a little wild with fright at everything transpiring. As Ryan and Clara approach the museum the doors shake in their jambs, likewise the windows rattle, as though something inside senses the threat represented in their presence and makes it's displeasure known through the building itself. The weather oddity above the museum seems localized there, barely impinging on the surrounding buildings. Indeed, whatever the cause it's clearly inside and focused there.
"Could be an Arcanist." Ryan notes as he glances up at the sky, "They're known for doing some kinds of weather rituals." He checks his bolt action rifle's chamber to make sure it's loaded as he nods to Clara and leads the way inside, opening the doors and taking a left at the information desk to go towards the Aquarium. Past the Aquarium would be the stairs upwards to the second floor, where the 'Ancient Civilizations' exhibit is found. "Keep your eyes peeled for anything weird. Most of this stuff is just old junk for tourists."
Clara mutters "Fucking wizards" under her breath, beginning her check for oddities and out of place sights and sounds as they start the process of clearing the building. Keeping an eye out for any traps that may have been placed, physical or arcane, to the best of her ability. "Anything interesting about the dagger itself that you know? Legends, myths...anything is better than nothing, in case this turns out to be a hostile situation."
As they draw closer the rattling of the doors increases and then, as Ryan reaches for the door, it throws itself wide open. Is it resignation to fate? Or an invitation to draw closer, a challenge. Only what awaits inside can really tell that tale. Inside the temperature drops even further, air coming out the door turning into foggy vapor, the breath of Ryan and Clara both visible as they pass through the entrance and it's information desk. There is a charge in the air like a static electricity field but it's not felt physically so much as psychically, a miasma of emotion, of rising anxiety. From upstairs there is a man's scream, the sound almost a roar that words can be discerned from, "Sose ton eafto sou! Soste ton eafto sas apo tin kolasi!" the tone starting as a plea but quickly taking on the ominous nature of a threat.
"Came in from Greece in a wooden box, some ancient scrolls I haven't translated, and like...totes had some kind of shady backstory that the dude wasn't going to tell me, he just wanted to offload it for cheap, and now I know why." Ryan mutters as he raises his rifle to his shoulder and starts climbing the stairs, following the voice as he stars down the iron sights, readying to shoot in a limb whomever is doing this ritual.
As the pair mounts the stairs the frigid air is maintained but, thankfully, the geography seems to be keeping the winds at a minimum, reducing the ability of the air to suck the heat from Ryan and Clara. Creeping up the stairs until their view crests their top, they can see into the Ancient Civilizations exhibit and what they see is not encouraging. A man, presumably Agent Davis, is there and hovers in the air about three feet off the ground. Spread eagled and doing a reasonable imitation of Vitruvian Man, one hand clutched a crossed dagger about eighteen inches in length, twelve of it the blade. Bursts of light like will-o-wisps peel off the blade and flash to the edge of the room, impacting other displays, shaking cases, knocking photos from the walls. A heavy mist hangs in the room, spiraling around it's perimeter not unlike the clouds above the museum. Davis's head is thrown back and he chants, "Apo to epikentro tis kardias mou, kalo tis lexeis. Tou thymou pou legetai kai tis epithymias pou apokalyptetai. Me tin proklisi logou kai praxis mou. Me to aima mou agiase ton olethro sou pou epikalestike. To schima kai i morfi sou den epivlithikan pote!" The words spill from unmoving lip, a prismatic, otherworldly shift to the sound as though the words are more felt than heard.
Ryan has Rifles discipline of 50, but no rifle in hand atm.
Ryan might not have been entirely prepared, but Clara brought a few things from home. She unzips the bag, getting a bottle of holy water and some various salts out before the shots are readied. Once done, she lines up her shots accordingly, though she is notably not as accurate as her partner is when it comes to precision shooting.
Clara has Rifles discipline of 15
The shots the pair fires are true as, lets face it, it's an immobile target barely a dozen yards away... but the bullets never seem to find their marks, some sort of barrier surrounding the man's form and flashing a brilliant blue when the bullets strike. There is a high pitched sound as the shot are reflected, bouncing away to bore holes in the walls and one Egyptian mask that falls to the floor, the cheek shattered. Davis drops to the floor now, whatever held him aloft suddenly absent, and lands in a kneel, the dagger still in hand. He looks up at the pair and his eyes shine silver, the ghostly image of a black haired woman overlaying his form and he smiles at the pair where they stand on the stairs. He smiles viciously in mirror of the woman's image, a female voice calling out, "Oi anemoi tha svisoun to onoma sou. I ammos ta ichni tou monopatiou sou. O ilios i drosia tis skias sou. Kai sta nera prostazo tin ousia sou. To schima kai i morfi sou den epivlithikan pote!"
"Aah shit!" Ryan curses as he drops the rifle, taking a glance over at the Egyptian Mask with a wince as he imagines that one was really expensive and probably on loan, pulling a short staff off his back, Ryan comes towards the man who has been possessed by the spirit and tries to engage with his (hopefully) longer reach with the staff. "Hey Davis, dude? You can put the knife down, we got it from here." he asks kindly as he approaches.
Ryan has blunt weapons of 20 (30) with striking.
Ryan also has Ballistic armor discipline of 25
Clara upon seeing the bullets having no effect, flicks the safety on her gun and drops it, choosing to grab the holy water and the salt. Once the man begins talking, she responds with "Don't you know what happens to people who try to escape Hades? Never ends well." As she talks, she begins forming a circle of salt around the man as best she can.
The apparition that has overwhelmed the man laughs, a sinister sound that echoes through the room and is as much felt as heard. The voice calls out again, still shifted prismatically, "Bring me the scions of Jove! Bring me the blood of the one who deceived, the one who destroyed, the one who bears the blame for all misfortune. On him I place the challenge, on his spirit I speak woe!" she calls out to Ryan, rising to her... his... whatever... feet to stand there with the dagger clutched in hand. "Only then will I release this being from his servitude, when I can take retribution on the line of Jove!" The dagger is lifted high in the air, shards of energy still flashing off it, "On their Physical form I call the words of rendering"
(repost) The apparition that has overwhelmed the man laughs, a sinister sound that echoes through the room and is as much felt as heard. The voice calls out again, still shifted prismatically, "Bring me the scions of Jove! Bring me the blood of the one who deceived, the one who destroyed, the one who bears the blame for all misfortune. On him I place the challenge, on his spirit I speak woe!" she calls out to Ryan, rising to her... his... whatever... feet to stand there with the dagger clutched in hand. "Only then will I release this being from his servitude, when I can take retribution on the line of Jove!" The dagger is lifted high in the air, shards of energy still flashing off it, "On their Physical form I call the words of rendering. On their Hates I invoke Justice, thy anger unappeased. On their Past in shadows I shine the light revealed. On their Loves and joys I gift separation. On their Spirit I speak abandonment. On their Future I bring fear and grief. On them I Invoke all!" As the apparition speaks the storm begins to grow in strength, swirling around them like a tornado as the mists are drawn in closer to Davis's form.
"Bruh, look, hey...okay, so like this is America? Massachusetts. I don't if we have any uh...'Scions of Jove' here, my dude. So like...if you totes put the dagger down, I promise to ship you to one of those dudes, and you can figure all that out, okay lady ghost spirit thing? Give us Davis back and we can totes talk about the uh...blood and all that, cool cool?" he holds his staff at the ready, trying some diplomacy with the entity as Ryan glances over at Clara starting a ritual.
Hurries to finish her circle, once done handing the bottle of holy water to Ryan. "We had this talk last night. Broken not-entirely there remnants of people that once were. I doubt she'll listen to us when we say that the Scions of Jove are likely long since dead, that she's halfway across the planet attached to a dagger that hasn't been used in hundreds of years. You got an exorcism prayer in you? I can look some up, just. Uh. Try not to get stabbed?" She gives a weak smile, returning to her gun and readying it just in case. Didn't work the first time, but maybe the second? Though Clara holds on firing until necessary.
"I will abide in him until my retribution is enacted, until the blood of Jove tastes of the misery he has caused, until the scales are balanced!" The dagger still held high, the flashes of light coming from it seem to happen more frequently, becoming brighter, almost blinding, the light beginning to envelope Davis's form entirely. At first there is a tremble from the the hand that holds the dagger aloft, the flesh starting to become veined with blackness, charred by the raw power being channeled through the natural's body, flashes of something akin to lighting in the clouds swirling around his form. Feeling the energy burning out the form she inhabits, the overimage looks to Clara, "You! Girl! Come closer... I will relinquish the dagger to you... There are echoes of power inside you, you will make an appropriate vessel." And as the apparition speaks Davis stretches his empty hand out towards Clara and she can feel an invisible force wrapping around her, beginning to pull her closer, though not with enough force to cause her to move... yet. It grows, however.
Nodding to Clara, Ryan hefts his staff into a hand and starts to Scroll through his phone, looking through some PDFs as he pulls one up, "I got one here! Hold on." he says as he begins to read something from The Order's online archives. He raises his voice as he yells loudly:
""O spirit of old, from Greece's storied past,"
"Your time in this blade shall no longer last."
"By Zeus' mighty bolt, by Athena's wise gaze,"
"Return to the ether, in the ancient days."
"From Calista's grip, I command thee, depart,"
"With the strength of Olympus, from this dagger, art."
"As Hecate's crossroads diverge in the night,"
"Be gone from this steel, vanish from sight."
"In the name of the gods, old and revered,"
"Leave this vessel, be no longer feared."
As he chants that invocation out, Ryan pours his will through it, attempting the banishing ritual as he points his finger at the man with the dagger, trying to force the spirit out of him."
This was not part of the plan. This was never part of the plan. The moment she feels the tug she knows something is off and she calls out to Ryan "If you have any bright ideas now would be the time!" In the meantime, her own idea is simple. She flicks the safety off and aims at the dagger itself, hoping to damage or break the weapon. Once the shot is fired, Clara focuses all her energies on preventing herself from being compelled, called forward.
"Hold onto something!" Ryan says, "Resist it! Put your hands in your hoodie, just don't touch it!" he says to Clara.
"No!" the image overlaying Davis screams as Ryan begins to chant the exorcism, the telekinetic tendrils tugging at Clara stopping almost immediately. The power enveloping Davis seems to recede a little with each line of the chant, the invocation more than the spirit can abide even with no regard for the vessel, willing to burn it up to draw it's life out for her own uses. "A thousand generations I have waited for my revenge, I will not be denied! At Hecate's statue I will gather my power and I will return for you! You will kneel before me and beg forgiveness!" she screams in the double voice of her own otherworldly tones and that of Davis. "I can give you power girl!" she screams to Clara. "Seek the statue west of town, find me there and I will make you a goddess amongst these mortals! No longer a wallflower, tagging along in hopes of helping! They will kneel to you, serve you, fear you!" she screams. And then Clara's shot snaps out, the hilt of the dagger struck, causing it to spin from the man's hand. A scream of anguish pours from the spirit, the clouds swirling around her, and her vessel, closing in as the flashes of energy, mystical lighting, become uncontrolled, turning in on them both. They both scream again as the air in the room is sucked into the focal point where they stand, enveloping them in a blinding flash of violet, and violent, energy... And then they are gone, the dagger falling to the blackened floor when Davis had stood. An eerie silence, in the wake of the maelstrom, is pervasive.
Wiping a small trickle blood from his nose, Ryan coughs, the copper taste of his own blood makes him wince as he feels a bit drained from the Life Force used to power the banishing spell. He comes forward and checks on Davis, seeing if the man is still alive as he uses his messenger bag to scoop up the dagger, being very careful not to touch it at all and be possessed by it, "Man, I guess I'll have to lock this away in a vault somewhere, dude." He comes back to Davis and kneels next to him, making sure to have the dagger secured before he reaches out to the man.
Glancing over at Clara, Ryan asks, "You okay?"
Clara stands up straight, flicking the safety back on and glancing at both the charred spot on the floor where Davis once stood and Ryan, nerves high. She makes a few tense, terse steps towards the museum's owner, stops inside the salt circle and stares at the dagger. "I'm. Uh...No, not really. But I will be, one day, maybe."
Davis is gone, vanished when the burst of energy from the collapse of the mystical energy surrounding him imploded and vanished. From the scent in the air and charred spot on the floor it seems likely he was incinerated.
Clara says "I'm going to go check on your employees since we seem to have resolved the situation. "
"Fuck, man." Ryan says as he looks over at the blackened spot on the floor, "Hope you find some peace in the next life, Davis. If you ghost back here, let me know, I'll try to help." and then he follows Clara back out the door.
Nodding to her, Ryan gathers his rifle and comes with her, "Yeah, I definitely need to pay Mitch overtime for this."
The room is, as one might expect after something like this, in shambles. The damage of the guns aside, their contribution to the disaster minimal, the flashes of mystical power leave charred marks on displays and walls alike, broken objects and glass litter the floor and it seems very much like hell came to town and brought friends. Atleast the effect was localized here. Ryan is able to gather the dagger without touching it and there is a slight hum to the metal, the power contained within seeming to strain against it's imprisonment. As the pair move through the museum, downstairs towards the exit, the effects of the objects tantrum become much less pronounced, no damage on the first floor aside from a few brochures scatted about at the information desk. Stepping outside, Mitch's truck is gone, both employees along with it, though if Ryan were to check his phone there is a message from Gina that he, reasonably I think, didn't notice in the moment. 'Getting crazy out here. We will see you tomorrow. Don't die!'.
Looking at his phone, Ryan shows Clara the text message, "Looks like Mitch and Gina left and they'll see me tomorrow." he lets out a sigh as he shrugs, "That's fair. I'll still pay them the whole day...uh...'special holiday' I guess."
Clara scratches the back of her neck as she looks around. The amount of normalcy in the world after the past ten minutes feels uncomfortable. The possibility that things might have all worked out...save for the Special Agent, doesn't register for a good while. "I'm, uh. I'm gonna go home, I think. Tell the boss some stuff came up. I need a nap."
Nodding, Ryan opens the van passenger door for Clara as he tosses his gear in, pulling off his vest as he says, "Sounds good. I'll pick you up a hot drink on the way back to help you sleep."
*Closing Credits*
Thanks for playing guys, hope you enjoyed it, going to summon you both back to the Black Rose to make it easier to get back to your vehicles.
Jessica is making her way down the street towards White oak, she's fresh to Haven and carefree. It's not obvious how much she's aware of things, she seems innocent enough as she moves down the street with her airpods in. She mouths some words, occasionally pronouncing a few going along with the music, "Mama, I like boys, I like Pecs, Like them arms when they flex.."
Navigating the road, Jessica senses an unspoken tension in the air, that something is off. As she makes her way down the road, the currents of the crowd seem to shift, and the young woman becomes acutely aware of glares and sidelong glances directed her way. A large middle-aged man maneuvers through the throng of moving people with a deliberate intent as he collides with someone, causing the small airpods to tumble from her ears and onto the pavement. There's no apology offered, as he just countinues along as if nothing had happened.
A few people stop to watch. They're whispering to one another and snickering.
Navigating the road, Jessica senses an unspoken tension in the air, that something is off. As she makes her way down the road, the currents of the crowd seem to shift, and the young woman becomes acutely aware of glares and sidelong glances directed her way. A large middle-aged man maneuvers through the throng of moving people with a deliberate intent as he collides with Jessica, causing the small airpods to tumble from her ears and onto the pavement. There's no apology offered, as he just countinues along as if nothing had happened.
A few people stop to watch. They're whispering to one another and snickering.
Being a New York city girl, Jessica may not be a stranger to crowds, but she is a stranger to being stared at and so she looks back at the people, "What you've never seen an Asian bit-" she gets knocked into, losing her airpods. She looks immediately furious and talks with her hands at the back of the man walking away, "Hey what the fuck, watch where you are going!" she shakes her head then stoops to collect her expensive earpods.
Before Jessica is able to retrieve her fallen earpods. A young man suddenly darts forward delivers a swift kick to the fallen devices, sending them skittering across the pavement and into a nearby bush off the side of the road, with a sense of satisfaction. Jessica's words don't seem to go ignored as the large middle-aged man whirls around upon a foot to face the young woman, "That's my line. Those squinty eyes make you blind or something, huh?"
Several people seem to snicker at this overt and completely unacceptable show of overt of racism. You'd think that more people would feel sympathy for poor Jessica, who has done nothing wrong, but everyone seems to be revelling in her suffering. More people stop to watch with more interest than this sort of scene would really deserve. A few have taken out phones and have begun to record.
Seated alone on a weathered bench, a heavily-scarred teenager leans forward, his lips moving in a rhythmic cadence that mimics the soft whispers of an incantation, like something from a horror movie. It's probably nothing but a weirdo having a moment, right?
Jessica's brain temporarily short circuits when the man kicks her airpods away. She stans traight and looks at the man with initial shock then her fight and flight response chooses firmly to fight, verbally, she cusses the man out and gets all in his face saying, "Hey, you trailer trash piece of shit, those are expensive."
a tirade of obscenities and ranting comes out of the blonde Asian girl, stuff that would certainly make it on Tik Tok with how far she's going. When she finally finishes she starts to move towards the bush to try and find her beloved ear pods, temporarily unaware she's still being targetted.
Jessica's rightful indigitation seems to fall on deaf ears. Foraging through the bush, Jessica sifts through the foliage with determined hands, fingers brush against branches and twigs, before her hand triumphantly closes around the familiar contours of her AirPods.
The soft whispers of onlookers linger in the air. Words like "crazy" and "obsessed" are being exchanged in hushed tones as they countinue to watch Jessica far more attentively than they'd really ought to be.
The middle-aged man who'd bumped into Jessica earlier speaks into his phone with urgency. That piece of shit seems to be in the process of calling the police on poor Jessica. The young man who'd kicked Jessica's airpods sort of lingers near by, heckling her as she searches for her belongings he'd kicked into a bush for no real reason, "They are pretty expensive. Doubt you could afford them. Who'd you steal them from?"
Jessica grasp the airpods in hand, victorious. She stuffs them into her hoodie pocket to stash them away safely. When she turns back to the men who screwed with her she remembers she literally just had a spat with them. "Where did you steal those jeans? The Salvation army?" she snaps back.
She seems to realize that the middle aged man is calling the police, this initially causes more confusion but then a thought that maybe getting arrested in the first day of being here would undoubtly cause some trouble with her family back home. She turns heel and begins to walk off at a quickened pace, aiming to avoid the school so that she doesn't let on she is going there. She'll circle back once the coast is clear...
In the bustling street, Jessica quickens her pace in a retreat, creating a deliberate distance between herself and the persistent hecklers. The young man continues his unwarranted pursuit for a little while, still trying to countinue the arguement. The distance Jessica cleverly creates serves as a barrier, and with a frustrated huff, the young man finally gives up and goes about his day doing whatever he was doing before he decided to harass a stranger for no real reason.
Later, when Jessica would circle around, she'd find the heavily-scarred teenager on the bench is now gone. And so too is the unusual, excessive hostility she'd been victim too earlier, and she's able to get to white oak without further such strangeness.
Jessica brushes off the whole encounter as a unfortunate accident meeting a bunch of racist rural americans. She hopes once she's in White Oak there will be enough international students that will be a lot more her type.