Encounterlogs
Lynettes Odd Encounter Sr William 250402
In the enigmatic town of Haven, a place filled with arcane energy and supernatural occurrences, Takeshi, a demon lad known for his straightforward method of handling issues - violence, is on a mission with Lynette, a human magic detector of sorts. Their task, assigned by the higher-ups of the secretive society Tsubaki, is to investigate an abandoned hut on the outskirts of their district that has recently shown unusual activity. As they arrive at the location, they find themselves stumbling upon a hidden basement where members of The Sapphire Martyrs are caught in the midst of a dark ritual. The story weaves through the dark and early hours of Haven, where the veil of night covers the town in mystery and danger lurks around every corner. Lynette, displeased by the early disturbance and wary of ruining her new clothes, reluctantly follows Takeshi's lead into the fray, highlighting the peculiar dynamics of their partnership against the backdrop of Haven's complex and hidden battles.
Meanwhile, another thread of the narrative unfolds with Ritsuka, who, while at the shrine to the eidolon Kin'Yoko, finds herself embroiled in a tumultuous inner battle due to being possessed by an angry spirit. This spirit, seeking revenge through Ritsuka, utilizes icy sorcery in an attempt to carry out its vendetta. The serene setting of the shrine contrasts starkly with the turmoil within Ritsuka, as she struggles against the possession. Ensuing is a powerful display of elemental magic, drawing attention and concern from the community and forces aligned with Ritsuka. As the narrative progresses, despite the spirit's fury and powerful ice magic that begins to shape a threatening dome around her, Ritsuka, with the aid of the Iron Camellia ritualists and her own willpower, manages to suppress and eventually expel the spirit from her being. In a dramatic conclusion, Ritsuka’s struggles and the communal efforts to save her emphasize the story's themes of internal battles, resilience, and the intricate balance between different forces within Haven.
(Lynette's odd encounter(SRWilliam):SRWilliam)
[Thu Mar 27 2025]
On Tsubaki Avenue
Tsubaki Avenue winds gracefully through the outskirts of the city in a blend
of Japanese tradition. The street is lined with stone lanterns, their bases
carved with camellia blossoms. The smooth cobblestone road are bordered by
manicured azalea bushes and cherry trees, their branches forming a delicate
canopy that dapples the ground with sunlight.
Traditional buildings with dark wooden beams and white plaster walls stand
quietly nearby, their curved roofs adorned with protective tile work. A
wonderful floral scent lingers faintly in the air, carried by a soft breeze
across the street. Most of the people that seem to pass by here appear to be
women, and some are armed.
It is before dawn, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
(Your target and their allies stumble upon a seemingly abandoned house in the outskirts of Haven. Investigating the house, they find it filled with cryptic symbols and ancient texts, the central theme of which revolves around the predestined end of the world. Upon further inspection, they find a hidden basement filled with members of The Sapphire Martyrs in the middle of a ritual.)
It's still pretty early in the town of Haven, or pretty late, depending on who you ask. The first rays of sunlight aren't expected to even be seen for at least an hour or two more, and the darkness of the night is further reinforced by the dark clouds that linger on the sky, blocking off what little lighting might have come naturally from the moon.
There is still a little left until the early birds leave their houses to do the running for the day before getting ready to get to work, and it's rather that hour of the night in which what little people are still lingering on the streets, are those that are currently returning home, in a questionable state of mind, either because they didn't have work to do today, or because they didn't care enough to stop their fun to be fresh for work during the day. Maybe some people already starting to open their own shops, or to get in them to get the product ready before the customers are awake, there certainly seems to be some activity in establishments that offer bakery options, those have been there for a little while, but that is the invisible part, the one you normally would overlook, in favor of simply claiming those who stood up are the ones currently outside.
It's normally a bit sooner in the night that all of the magical shenanigans that tend to happen in this town normally occur, after all, the veil of the night helps cover up a lot of these incidents, and gives those intent to cause trouble some guarantee that less people are going to be available in order to stop them. But it is never too late to create some sort of conflict or mess in Haven. Those who are Aware are at this point way more familiar with the unpredictable schedule that Haven has when it comes to needing to solve trouble before it gets into the realm of the dangerous or loudly public.
It was often that some member of a society was woken up in the middle of the night to stop some sort of ritual from happening, under the threat of some unimaginable eldritch horror breaching the gap between realms and accessing our world from the Void under the help of the Black Flame. Or that the Golden Shadow stole some sort of ancient magic weapon or relic and was planning on moving it around while people slept, requiring the intervention of those poor members that only wanted to sleep. Or even worse, not being woken up by a message or a call from your boss or society superiors, but instead being the target of a ghost haunting, rising from their own death only to torment those who still cling to life, either with psychic disturbances and altered memories, or straight up flinging stuff around like it was some horror movie about poltergeists.
Tonight it's one of the first, a ritual taking place, though it's not like the warned people are really aware of it, or those who send them, anyways. Lynette and Takeshi have simply been instructed by some of the more high standing members of the Tsubaki, to go investigate an abandoned hut that seems to be awfully close to the Tsubaki district. Up until then it had presented no issues, but recently they've been noticing some activity and movement surrounding it, so it has been instructed that they conduct an investigation of the property- And why this early in the morning? Well, ideally, to use the veil of the night, and the lack of people around it to try and take advantage of the situation. No one is around to stop the two of them from peeping into the house, none to attack or to report if it was other society's business.
For them two, is as simple as a message on their phones, that seems more like a wall of text detailing the situation to the two. For Edith however, the notice from this suspicious property comes from her comm channels, apparently some of the arcanists the Hand had tasked with the coverup of the supernatural earthquake had trailed signs of high magic energy coming from the location of the abandoned house - Unclear of whether they are the cause of the seismic movement, or another whole issue by itself, they contacted someone more qualified to look into it, given her knowledge of the arcane, and the fact that the leader, Elias is currently unavailable, it was easy enough to send the vampire gal in the middle of the night to verify the odd readings of mana emanating from the place.
The demon lad would be stomping his way through the forest, snapping sticks and kicking stones with a displeased look on his face, as there always was when people expected work of him that wasn't "go to X place and kill everyone you find". He, of course, considered this beneath him so he, of course, was dragging Lynette along behind him to make her do all the actual work for him. "It through here" Takeshi shouts over his shoulder to the following Lynette "You going to search for magic, and if find any, we kill people doing it" Takeshi explains to her. It wasn't strictly what he'd been instructed to do, but it would work well enough.
Lynette was very displeased to have been woken up so early in the morning for an investigative task. She's been pressing the cold back of her hands under her eyes for some time now, as if desperately trying to prevent undereye bags from lack of sleep. Takeshi dragging Lynette along was expected at this point, after all, the demon used her as a human magic detector.
"Are we there yet? I want to get this over with," she sighs, waiting for her body to tingle or something. The world usually has a way of letting her know what she's supposed to be looking for on it's own. "I don't want blood on my new clothes so you do the gruesome shit today, okay?"
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Today, was really not much of a busy day for her. She had made her way out to Kin'Yoko's shrine, ditched the armor into the hands of the male oni earlier, and then lingered by altar itself, hands reaching For the black Camellia that stayed on the shrine itself. It was still far too cold, but she decided to put on a dress and some heels anyway, new clothes she had not work before, and who cares about a slight little bit of frostbite anyway, if it were to happen? Not Ritsuka today for certain.
The cool morning air in the shrine to the eidolon Kin'Yoko is thick with a deceptive tranquility, a fragile veneer of sunlit paint that barely masks the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface of the town of Haven, where the gates to the Wilds, Other, Hell and Guard Realm create so much caustic toxisity in the supernatural world. The scent of camellias is intoxicating-- It is comforting, and Ritsuka embraces it, after all, this is Kin'Yoko's realm, and Ritsuka has just ascended to a greater state of hypernatural power. It should be a safe place. It should be peaceful, Ritsuka deserves this after everything-- yet it carries a weight; an undercurrent of something darker that tangles with the sweetness, hinting at the malicious chaos from the factions-- the spirits-- the monsters in Haven and beyond, that has recently unfolded around Ritsuka, Kin'Yoko and the Tsubaki No Tetsu. The shrines were completed. Kin'Yoko was empowered along with Ritsuka. Takeshi begins to prove himself, the same for Muse, but still, it sometimes appears that the world is against Ritsuka. This may be out of her control-- It may be because of machinations of cults, factions and sects who seek the downfall or it may be something more close to home, though this is as of yet unknown, so it must play out... Though Ritsuka will be ready for it... what ever it is. The twisted branches overhead sway gently, their shadows dancing a beguiling, haunting waltz which captivates and enchants with an unsettling life of their own, as if they are not mere trees but guardians of the ancient secrets hidden within Haven's mists and the deeper forest itself. The weathered black torii gate stands; A stalward, resolute sentinel at the edge of the garden, its moss-covered surface whispering forgotten and known-- past, preasant and future prayers and promises that cling to the air like the fragrant incense rising from the stone altar itself-- all in respect for Kin'Yoko, just as it should be. Each tendril of smoke curls upward, carrying with it the weight of offerings made in desperation, seeking Kin'Yoko's favor amidst the aftermath of destruction. The smoke itself twists into shapes that Ritsuka can recognize; foxes, camellias, dancing shifting things that tell stories of their own. Things to please the eidolon in their mystery, even as the odd entertaining image takes shape. Here a sword descending to chop a man's legs off as he runs, there a box being opened, only to explode like a shadow puppet cartoon. As Ritsuka stands before the altar then, the warmth radiating from the ground feels almost sentient, the pulse that syncs with the growing fury within you. It is a heartbeat that is not Ritsuka's a feeling that both is and is not Ritsuka. The stone beneath Ritsuka's feet feels alive, thrumming with energy, as if it were a conduit for the malice that stirs in Ritsuka's gut. The creeping ivy on the shrine's frame appears to shimmer, as though it too reacts to Ritsuka's frantic turmoil, drawing closer, seeking to intertwine with Ritsuka, to merge Ritsuka's essence with the power of Kin'Yoko. It cant though. What ever this is, it is wrathful, a violent force that is hostile and malevolent, and it is inside Ritsuka, feelings of loss, fury, confusion drifting inside Ritsuka and keeping Kin'Yoko's light from breaking through... at least for now. A soft breeze stirs, rustling the silk banners that hang above-- their embroidered foxes and falling petals fluttering like whispers of caution. Ritsuka catches fleeting glimpses of movement in the corners of Ritsuka's vision, shadows that dart just beyond the edge of perception, leaving Ritsuka with a prickling sensation at the nape of Ritsuka's neck. The forest holds its breath; The mist flows around Ritsuka, and the world seems to pause-- teetering on the edge of a curious, nail-biting anticipation, as if the very earth beneath Ritsuka is aligning with Ritsuka's inner storm. Rage-- rage-- rage-- fury! Though the distant sound of waves brings a semblance of calm... Though unfortunately for Ritsuka, it is drowned out by the rising tide of her emotions. The chill creeps deeper, an insidious presence that seeps into Ritsuka's bones, a devilish understanding that peace is but a fragile illusion. The morning sun, though bright, feels like a spotlight on Ritsuka's growing rage, shining a refulgent light on the turmoil that threatens to consume Ritsuka whole. In this sanctified place where Kin'Yoko's warmth should envelop Ritsuka, there is an unsettling knowledge that darkness lingers, waiting for the opportune moment to strike-- The calm before the storm feels more like the calm before a reckoning, and as Ritsuka stands there, heart racing, Ritsuka is acutely aware that something is awakening within Ritsuka a force that is as wild and untamed as the Mystical Haven forest itself. Ritsuka takes a deep breath-- It's not Ritsuka doing it. It's something else-- the floral fragrance mingling with the scent of smoke, and Ritsuka brace herself for whatever may come next. Then, furiously, Ritsuka screams her anguish and fury, ice sorcery bursting from between Ritsuka's fingers as her arms are thrown out. Ritsuka-- No, the sorcerer possessing Ritsuka is awakening, and this spirit is angered from the explosion that caused its death not an hour back. It needs revenge...
Ah, of course that just had to happen, as it is always prone to do. But Ritsuka was not entirely defenseless either, the rage and sudden fury is, at the least, observed by others that will almost immediately find that it is odd, that yes, something was not so right. And with these kind of things that draw to such an extreme out of the ordinary, lest of all, ice sorcery, something entirely disconnected to her, it may have someone pass on a message to the ritualists.
But that was not Ritsuka, who balls a hand into a first at this foreign presence, not happy in the slightest, not happy at all, to look inward. She was no arcanist, but this was by far not the first rodeo, and though it is difficult emotions, she had been possessed before. By Alabaster, by Kin'Yoko, and though it is a fight with your own limbs, it is a struggle that can be fought and done. And so she does. Even shifting, it makes her more dangerous to be approached, it means she cannot be bound, but that form was also far more familiar to her, than it would be for an elemental sorcerer who usually cannot shift.
The atmosphere thickens with frost-laidened tension as the serene beauty of the shrine is shattered by the tumultuous force within Ritsuka(Kitsune). The once gentle breeze that stirred the silk banners now carries an icy bite, underlining the clash between the tranquil shrine and the chaos within Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s soul. Mist twists, it spins and the smoke continues to rise. The sun beats down, though it's cold and Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. It's a slow thing. It's painful and cold, but Ritsuka(Kitsune) manages it! The air, already fragrant with the rich scent of camellias, feels electrified, as if the very essence of the even the Haven inner forest is recoiling from the powerful elemental magic surging through Ritsuka(Kitsune) relentlessly, racking Ritsuka(Kitsune) with pain as the sorcerer from the Sapphire Martyrs fights with Ritsuka(Kitsune) for control-- Control that Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not allow it! The crimson and violet blossoms-- vibrant and alive, seem to wilt slightly under the weight of the cryomancy of the sorcerer's rage. They whisper among themselves, their petals trembling as they absorb the chill creeping into their midst-- But they do not die. someone' will not allow that. Kin'Yoko protects her shrine with that familiar comforting golden light. The torii gate stands resolute, against all of this, even as frost creeps over it, melting as soon as it touches it; silent perceptive witness to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s struggle, and it helps; its ancient kanji glowing faintly as though in response to the growing frost. The air shimmers as the power of the eidolon fights the spirit-- fights to save Ritsuka(Kitsune), her priestess. The warmth of the ground around the stone altar contrasts sharply with the freezing wave emanating from Ritsuka(Kitsune), creating a stark dichotomy of life and death, warmth and cold-- Snow and sun, as Kin'Yoko's shrine comes to life around Ritsuka(Kitsune). The offerings, incense, blood-red sake, and scraps of parchment-- appear almost vibrant in their defiance against the encroaching ice, but they too are at the mercy of the elemental fury within Ritsuka(Kitsune) Threatened by the sorcerer fighting Ritsuka(Kitsune) As Ritsuka(Kitsune) kneels-- against Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s will, Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s fingers tracing the intricate norse runes in the freshly fallen snow, each line seems to pulse with a frigid life of its own, imbued with the desperate energy of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --no. The sorcerer's intent. The runes glow faintly, illuminating the shrine around Ritsuka(Kitsune) with white-blue arcane light, but the swirling frost threatens to obscure Kin'Yoko's brilliance. The ground beneath Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels alive, as if it recognizes the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s purpose; a heartbeat echoing in the silence of the forest as Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights the sorcerer-- And the cryomancy of elemental magic fights Ritsuka(Kitsune) back! The waves crash rhythmically in the distance, their sound a haunting reminder of the world beyond this sacred shrine to Kin'Yoko, a world that hangs in the balance if the sorcerer is successful. The world must end that other realms may survive; the purpose of the Sapphire Martyrs. The dark grey storm clouds above loom ominously, their presence mirroring the turmoil within Ritsuka(Kitsune). Ritsuka(Kitsune) can feel Kin'Yoko's light hovering just out of reach, desperately trying to break through the icy barrier erected by the monstrous sorcerer, but for now, it cant. As Ritsuka(Kitsune) begins to create the frozen dome around herself, the air crackles with Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --the sorcerer's cryomancy, a wild and unyielding sorcerous force that seeks to shield Ritsuka(Kitsune) from all intrusions. Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer will succeed where it could not, and this life in Ritsuka(Kitsune) is powerful enough to aid it to achieve its martyrdom. The ice spreads outward, crystalline tendrils weaving together, forming an impenetrable barrier that radiates a cold so profound it seems to suck the warmth from the very air around Ritsuka(Kitsune), but Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. The shift begins and the dome is not completed. People are noticing. In this moment, the sorcerer is the puppeteer and and Ritsuka(Kitsune) the marionette, the wielder of ice and the vessel of rage. The world outside the dome fades, the sounds of the forest muffled, as Ritsuka(Kitsune) becomes the center of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s own storm, driven by the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer's resolve. Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not be stopped. The ritual for the Sapphire martyrs will be completed, and whatever the cost--be it Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s life or the wrath of the power that stopped it last time--@ritsuka will fulfill her purpose. Then Ritsuka(Kitsune) achieves it-- The shift takes place, and as everyone knows, without the hands to weave the power, or the mind to channel it, magic is not achievable. Ritsuka(Kitsune), now a kitsune stands bastion, presiding over Kin'Yoko's shrine, and the sorcerer rages within. It still fights, but it is impotent-- held in place as the Iron Camellia run to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s aid, magic wielded as the ritualists begin their banishment ritual, the soldiers dismantling the half-formed ice dome and the ritual from the sorcerer not even completed. It rages inside Ritsuka(Kitsune). Its fury is powerful, but it simply cant perform its magic. It is only a matter of time now.
The atmosphere thickens with frost-laidened tension as the serene beauty of the shrine is shattered by the tumultuous force within Ritsuka(Kitsune). The once gentle breeze that stirred the silk banners now carries an icy bite, underlining the clash between the tranquil shrine and the chaos within Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s soul. Mist twists, it spins and the smoke continues to rise. The sun beats down, though it's cold and Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. It's a slow thing. It's painful and cold, but Ritsuka(Kitsune) manages it! The air, already fragrant with the rich scent of camellias, feels electrified, as if the very essence of the even the Haven inner forest is recoiling from the powerful elemental magic surging through Ritsuka(Kitsune) relentlessly, racking Ritsuka(Kitsune) with pain as the sorcerer from the Sapphire Martyrs fights with Ritsuka(Kitsune) for control-- Control that Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not allow it! The crimson and violet blossoms-- vibrant and alive, seem to wilt slightly under the weight of the cryomancy of the sorcerer's rage. They whisper among themselves, their petals trembling as they absorb the chill creeping into their midst-- But they do not die. Kin'Yoko will not allow that. Kin'Yoko protects her shrine with that familiar comforting golden light. The torii gate stands resolute, against all of this, even as frost creeps over it, melting as soon as it touches it; silent perceptive witness to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s struggle, and it helps; its ancient kanji glowing faintly as though in response to the growing frost. The air shimmers as the power of the eidolon fights the spirit-- fights to save Ritsuka(Kitsune), her priestess. The warmth of the ground around the stone altar contrasts sharply with the freezing wave emanating from Ritsuka(Kitsune), creating a stark dichotomy of life and death, warmth and cold-- Snow and sun, as Kin'Yoko's shrine comes to life around Ritsuka(Kitsune). The offerings, incense, blood-red sake, and scraps of parchment-- appear almost vibrant in their defiance against the encroaching ice, but they too are at the mercy of the elemental fury within Ritsuka(Kitsune) Threatened by the sorcerer fighting Ritsuka(Kitsune) As Ritsuka(Kitsune) kneels-- against Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s will, Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s fingers tracing the intricate norse runes in the freshly fallen snow, each line seems to pulse with a frigid life of its own, imbued with the desperate energy of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --no. The sorcerer's intent. The runes glow faintly, illuminating the shrine around Ritsuka(Kitsune) with white-blue arcane light, but the swirling frost threatens to obscure Kin'Yoko's brilliance. The ground beneath Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels alive, as if it recognizes the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s purpose; a heartbeat echoing in the silence of the forest as Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights the sorcerer-- And the cryomancy of elemental magic fights Ritsuka(Kitsune) back! The waves crash rhythmically in the distance, their sound a haunting reminder of the world beyond this sacred shrine to Kin'Yoko, a world that hangs in the balance if the sorcerer is successful. The world must end that other realms may survive; the purpose of the Sapphire Martyrs. The dark grey storm clouds above loom ominously, their presence mirroring the turmoil within Ritsuka(Kitsune). Ritsuka(Kitsune) can feel Kin'Yoko's light hovering just out of reach, desperately trying to break through the icy barrier erected by the monstrous sorcerer, but for now, it cant. As Ritsuka(Kitsune) begins to create the frozen dome around herself, the air crackles with Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --the sorcerer's cryomancy, a wild and unyielding sorcerous force that seeks to shield Ritsuka(Kitsune) from all intrusions. Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer will succeed where it could not, and this life in Ritsuka(Kitsune) is powerful enough to aid it to achieve its martyrdom. The ice spreads outward, crystalline tendrils weaving together, forming an impenetrable barrier that radiates a cold so profound it seems to suck the warmth from the very air around Ritsuka(Kitsune), but Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. The shift begins and the dome is not completed. People are noticing. In this moment, the sorcerer is the puppeteer and and Ritsuka(Kitsune) the marionette, the wielder of ice and the vessel of rage. The world outside the dome fades, the sounds of the forest muffled, as Ritsuka(Kitsune) becomes the center of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s own storm, driven by the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer's resolve. Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not be stopped. The ritual for the Sapphire martyrs will be completed, and whatever the cost--be it Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s life or the wrath of the power that stopped it last time--@ritsuka will fulfill her purpose. Then Ritsuka(Kitsune) achieves it-- The shift takes place, and as everyone knows, without the hands to weave the power, or the mind to channel it, magic is not achievable. Ritsuka(Kitsune), now a kitsune stands bastion, presiding over Kin'Yoko's shrine, and the sorcerer rages within. It still fights, but it is impotent-- held in place as the Iron Camellia run to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s aid, magic wielded as the ritualists begin their banishment ritual, the soldiers dismantling the half-formed ice dome and the ritual from the sorcerer not even completed. It rages inside Ritsuka(Kitsune). Its fury is powerful, but it simply cant perform its magic. It is only a matter of time now.
Part of Ritsuka(Kitsune) wants to stand up, roll around, rush into the forest, maybe 'accidentally' extinct the local area of any deer - but that is not the method with which the Tsubaki no Tetsu, its women, needs to garb themselves with. No, it is not at all. Tempered fury behind a veil of grace, and though she for her own still has much to learn about it, too, that is what must be the aim. Grace. This form was familiar to her, almost like a second nature - and so she makes to attempt to lie down, for long enough to perhaps be bound up, to be caught. Not that that would be easy in any case, her fur held a magical barrier to keep her safe.
Ritsuka(Kitsune) holds the sorcerer in place. Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels its rage as it is chained within her. The Tsubaki No Tetsu arcanists work on the banishment-- It takes some time. They are just not as good as some arcanists, but adept enough, especially in such numbers. The chill air begins to warm. Kin'Yoko's strength-- her power flows. The sun beats down and it flows through Ritsuka(Kitsune). The dome is dismantled. The air grows heated with a warmth of summer and the power of the spirit within Ritsuka(Kitsune) lestens. It's forced from Ritsuka(Kitsune) like blood being drawn. The sting of pain and the needle of power as the sorcerer, still clawing for its revenge is plucked from Ritsuka(Kitsune) like a splinter by the ritualists. Kin'Yoko's power flows. It is mighty. Ritsuka is able to more once more, free and all that remains is to clean up after the sorcerer's failed ritual. No power remains. No strength, no arcana. It is simply a null. The Iron Camellia shatter the ice and the begin to clean it out. The ritualists surround Ritsuka(Kitsune). They bow, then chant and finally, the spirit is extracted, its lingering threats drifting into the cool spring air, never to be heard again. Ritsuka(Kitsune) stopped the Sapphire Martyrs and this sorcerer. The shrine is cleaned, the day resumes normality and Ritsuka(Kitsune) is able to return to her meditations in the safety of Kin'Yoko's shrine.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
The air is still, heavy with the weight of an oncoming storm. A dense, gray sky looms over the towering pines that surround the house, a wooden structure nestled deep in the thick forests outside Haven. The trees stand silent and bare, their branches skeletal against the sky, reaching like grasping fingers toward the unseen sun. The chill is absolute, the kind that bites through wool and lingers in the marrow of bone, despite the lack of wind. It is the sort of cold that renders the world quiet, stripping away birdsong and the rustling of underbrush.
Victoria's home is a sanctuary against the freeze, where the path leading to the front door is uneven, covered in frost and edged with brittle undergrowth that has long since withered in the grasp of winter's waning touch. Inside, warmth fills the space. The scent of burning cedar and aged wood lingers, rich and heady, mingling with the faint aroma of something spiced- perhaps tea left to steep too long. The room is simple but not sparse, curated in a way that speaks of comfort rather than excess. The walls, paneled with aged oak, enclose the space in a rustic embrace. The main feature is the large bed against the far wall, its heavy wooden frame carved with care. Several layers of thick, woven blankets pile atop it, their edges slightly askew, disturbed but inviting. A fur throw lies draped at the foot of the bed, its texture luxurious against the otherwise practical arrangement. The headboard, upholstered in black velvet, adds a touch of refinement.
Beyond the comfort of the interior, however, exists trouble.
The state police have arrived.
The call came in two days prior, the voice on the other end urgent, sure. There had been murders- brutal ones. The kind that leaves a town shaken, the kind that demands answers. And the name given was hers.
The details were grisly: a string of killings spanning the last six months, each one precise, methodical, yet disturbingly intimate. The victims bore wounds too deliberate to be random acts of violence. There was no chaos, no frenzy. Just the quiet, calculated efficiency of someone who knew how to kill and how to cover their tracks. Whoever had tipped off the police had been convincing, their information chillingly detailed. Enough to warrant action. Enough to bring the state police into Haven's quiet borders.
But something felt off.
There was no direct evidence, only the whisper of possibility, the weight of suspicion. The higher-ups weren't convinced, but they weren't willing to dismiss it outright either. Not without confirmation. And so, instead of a full tactical team, they sent only two officers. A quiet approach. A knock at the door, a few questions. Feel it out first. See if the name that had landed in their laps belonged to a monster, or if someone had simply thrown a woman to the wolves.
Detective Saul Lorne steps out of the vehicle first, his boots crunching against frost-laced dirt. He is a broad man, solidly built, with dark eyes that miss nothing. His hands remain in his pockets, fingers brushing the cold metal of his badge, a habitual gesture more than anything. There is tension in his shoulders, but not from fear- from caution. Haven is small. He knows places like this have long memories, old grudges.
Beside him, Officer Dana Holtz follows, her breath rising in thin clouds. She is younger, sharp-eyed, fingers idly brushing against the radio clipped to her belt. Her expression is unreadable, though there is a flicker of something in her eyes- a hesitation, perhaps, or merely the wariness of stepping onto unknown ground. They stand before the house now, dwarfed by the towering trees that seem to press inward, framing the structure like the centerpiece of some grim tableau. Lorne glances up at the sky. The storm hasn't broken yet, but it will. Soon.
To fit with the weather, the older of the two is dressed in a thick, dark wool coat that falls just past his hips, the fabric worn at the elbows, suggesting years of use. Beneath it, a simple button-up shirt, dark gray, is tucked neatly into a pair of well-fitted slacks. His leather belt holds a holstered sidearm, the weight of it familiar at his hip. His boots are sturdy, built for long hours on his feet, their soles scuffed from wear. A scarf, dark blue and frayed at the ends, is wrapped loosely around his neck, the only concession to the biting cold. His gloves are leather, well-worn, creased at the knuckles from frequent use.
Meanwhile, by contrast, Officer Dana is more utilitarian in her attire. She wears the standard dark navy state police jacket, the fabric thick enough to stave off the cold but still stiff from infrequent use. Her uniform is crisp beneath it- a pressed button-up with the department's insignia stitched neatly into the sleeve. Her trousers are reinforced for durability, paired with practical, rubber-soled boots designed for grip. A beanie, black and unadorned, covers her ears, her blonde hair tucked neatly beneath it. Her gloves are tactical, designed for dexterity, fingers flexing slightly as she adjusts her stance in the cold.
Both of them look prepared, but not armored- this isn't a raid, at least not yet. Just then, Holtz moves in, knocks at the door... And the sound is loud in the quiet, echoing through the stillness like the first crack of ice before a lake begins to break apart. What follows, in wait for Victoria, is only preparedness, silence, a cut-throat wait in a pair that give one another furtive looks, to find whether they've really been lead to the gaping maw of a monster, or simply a woman out in the woods.
There, they wait.
Relaxing in bed, scrolling her phone, Victoria frowns when she hears the knock at her door. With a sigh, she stands, moving first to a window to peer outside. Her eyes narrow, seeing the vehicle, but she gives a shrug, heading for her front door. As she swings it open, she greets the two officers with a bright smile, though her gaze sweeps each from head to toe. "Afternoon," she says with a tilt of her head. "Can I help you with something?"
Meanwhile, another thread of the narrative unfolds with Ritsuka, who, while at the shrine to the eidolon Kin'Yoko, finds herself embroiled in a tumultuous inner battle due to being possessed by an angry spirit. This spirit, seeking revenge through Ritsuka, utilizes icy sorcery in an attempt to carry out its vendetta. The serene setting of the shrine contrasts starkly with the turmoil within Ritsuka, as she struggles against the possession. Ensuing is a powerful display of elemental magic, drawing attention and concern from the community and forces aligned with Ritsuka. As the narrative progresses, despite the spirit's fury and powerful ice magic that begins to shape a threatening dome around her, Ritsuka, with the aid of the Iron Camellia ritualists and her own willpower, manages to suppress and eventually expel the spirit from her being. In a dramatic conclusion, Ritsuka’s struggles and the communal efforts to save her emphasize the story's themes of internal battles, resilience, and the intricate balance between different forces within Haven.
(Lynette's odd encounter(SRWilliam):SRWilliam)
[Thu Mar 27 2025]
On Tsubaki Avenue
Tsubaki Avenue winds gracefully through the outskirts of the city in a blend
of Japanese tradition. The street is lined with stone lanterns, their bases
carved with camellia blossoms. The smooth cobblestone road are bordered by
manicured azalea bushes and cherry trees, their branches forming a delicate
canopy that dapples the ground with sunlight.
Traditional buildings with dark wooden beams and white plaster walls stand
quietly nearby, their curved roofs adorned with protective tile work. A
wonderful floral scent lingers faintly in the air, carried by a soft breeze
across the street. Most of the people that seem to pass by here appear to be
women, and some are armed.
It is before dawn, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
(Your target and their allies stumble upon a seemingly abandoned house in the outskirts of Haven. Investigating the house, they find it filled with cryptic symbols and ancient texts, the central theme of which revolves around the predestined end of the world. Upon further inspection, they find a hidden basement filled with members of The Sapphire Martyrs in the middle of a ritual.)
It's still pretty early in the town of Haven, or pretty late, depending on who you ask. The first rays of sunlight aren't expected to even be seen for at least an hour or two more, and the darkness of the night is further reinforced by the dark clouds that linger on the sky, blocking off what little lighting might have come naturally from the moon.
There is still a little left until the early birds leave their houses to do the running for the day before getting ready to get to work, and it's rather that hour of the night in which what little people are still lingering on the streets, are those that are currently returning home, in a questionable state of mind, either because they didn't have work to do today, or because they didn't care enough to stop their fun to be fresh for work during the day. Maybe some people already starting to open their own shops, or to get in them to get the product ready before the customers are awake, there certainly seems to be some activity in establishments that offer bakery options, those have been there for a little while, but that is the invisible part, the one you normally would overlook, in favor of simply claiming those who stood up are the ones currently outside.
It's normally a bit sooner in the night that all of the magical shenanigans that tend to happen in this town normally occur, after all, the veil of the night helps cover up a lot of these incidents, and gives those intent to cause trouble some guarantee that less people are going to be available in order to stop them. But it is never too late to create some sort of conflict or mess in Haven. Those who are Aware are at this point way more familiar with the unpredictable schedule that Haven has when it comes to needing to solve trouble before it gets into the realm of the dangerous or loudly public.
It was often that some member of a society was woken up in the middle of the night to stop some sort of ritual from happening, under the threat of some unimaginable eldritch horror breaching the gap between realms and accessing our world from the Void under the help of the Black Flame. Or that the Golden Shadow stole some sort of ancient magic weapon or relic and was planning on moving it around while people slept, requiring the intervention of those poor members that only wanted to sleep. Or even worse, not being woken up by a message or a call from your boss or society superiors, but instead being the target of a ghost haunting, rising from their own death only to torment those who still cling to life, either with psychic disturbances and altered memories, or straight up flinging stuff around like it was some horror movie about poltergeists.
Tonight it's one of the first, a ritual taking place, though it's not like the warned people are really aware of it, or those who send them, anyways. Lynette and Takeshi have simply been instructed by some of the more high standing members of the Tsubaki, to go investigate an abandoned hut that seems to be awfully close to the Tsubaki district. Up until then it had presented no issues, but recently they've been noticing some activity and movement surrounding it, so it has been instructed that they conduct an investigation of the property- And why this early in the morning? Well, ideally, to use the veil of the night, and the lack of people around it to try and take advantage of the situation. No one is around to stop the two of them from peeping into the house, none to attack or to report if it was other society's business.
For them two, is as simple as a message on their phones, that seems more like a wall of text detailing the situation to the two. For Edith however, the notice from this suspicious property comes from her comm channels, apparently some of the arcanists the Hand had tasked with the coverup of the supernatural earthquake had trailed signs of high magic energy coming from the location of the abandoned house - Unclear of whether they are the cause of the seismic movement, or another whole issue by itself, they contacted someone more qualified to look into it, given her knowledge of the arcane, and the fact that the leader, Elias is currently unavailable, it was easy enough to send the vampire gal in the middle of the night to verify the odd readings of mana emanating from the place.
The demon lad would be stomping his way through the forest, snapping sticks and kicking stones with a displeased look on his face, as there always was when people expected work of him that wasn't "go to X place and kill everyone you find". He, of course, considered this beneath him so he, of course, was dragging Lynette along behind him to make her do all the actual work for him. "It through here" Takeshi shouts over his shoulder to the following Lynette "You going to search for magic, and if find any, we kill people doing it" Takeshi explains to her. It wasn't strictly what he'd been instructed to do, but it would work well enough.
Lynette was very displeased to have been woken up so early in the morning for an investigative task. She's been pressing the cold back of her hands under her eyes for some time now, as if desperately trying to prevent undereye bags from lack of sleep. Takeshi dragging Lynette along was expected at this point, after all, the demon used her as a human magic detector.
"Are we there yet? I want to get this over with," she sighs, waiting for her body to tingle or something. The world usually has a way of letting her know what she's supposed to be looking for on it's own. "I don't want blood on my new clothes so you do the gruesome shit today, okay?"
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Today, was really not much of a busy day for her. She had made her way out to Kin'Yoko's shrine, ditched the armor into the hands of the male oni earlier, and then lingered by altar itself, hands reaching For the black Camellia that stayed on the shrine itself. It was still far too cold, but she decided to put on a dress and some heels anyway, new clothes she had not work before, and who cares about a slight little bit of frostbite anyway, if it were to happen? Not Ritsuka today for certain.
The cool morning air in the shrine to the eidolon Kin'Yoko is thick with a deceptive tranquility, a fragile veneer of sunlit paint that barely masks the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface of the town of Haven, where the gates to the Wilds, Other, Hell and Guard Realm create so much caustic toxisity in the supernatural world. The scent of camellias is intoxicating-- It is comforting, and Ritsuka embraces it, after all, this is Kin'Yoko's realm, and Ritsuka has just ascended to a greater state of hypernatural power. It should be a safe place. It should be peaceful, Ritsuka deserves this after everything-- yet it carries a weight; an undercurrent of something darker that tangles with the sweetness, hinting at the malicious chaos from the factions-- the spirits-- the monsters in Haven and beyond, that has recently unfolded around Ritsuka, Kin'Yoko and the Tsubaki No Tetsu. The shrines were completed. Kin'Yoko was empowered along with Ritsuka. Takeshi begins to prove himself, the same for Muse, but still, it sometimes appears that the world is against Ritsuka. This may be out of her control-- It may be because of machinations of cults, factions and sects who seek the downfall or it may be something more close to home, though this is as of yet unknown, so it must play out... Though Ritsuka will be ready for it... what ever it is. The twisted branches overhead sway gently, their shadows dancing a beguiling, haunting waltz which captivates and enchants with an unsettling life of their own, as if they are not mere trees but guardians of the ancient secrets hidden within Haven's mists and the deeper forest itself. The weathered black torii gate stands; A stalward, resolute sentinel at the edge of the garden, its moss-covered surface whispering forgotten and known-- past, preasant and future prayers and promises that cling to the air like the fragrant incense rising from the stone altar itself-- all in respect for Kin'Yoko, just as it should be. Each tendril of smoke curls upward, carrying with it the weight of offerings made in desperation, seeking Kin'Yoko's favor amidst the aftermath of destruction. The smoke itself twists into shapes that Ritsuka can recognize; foxes, camellias, dancing shifting things that tell stories of their own. Things to please the eidolon in their mystery, even as the odd entertaining image takes shape. Here a sword descending to chop a man's legs off as he runs, there a box being opened, only to explode like a shadow puppet cartoon. As Ritsuka stands before the altar then, the warmth radiating from the ground feels almost sentient, the pulse that syncs with the growing fury within you. It is a heartbeat that is not Ritsuka's a feeling that both is and is not Ritsuka. The stone beneath Ritsuka's feet feels alive, thrumming with energy, as if it were a conduit for the malice that stirs in Ritsuka's gut. The creeping ivy on the shrine's frame appears to shimmer, as though it too reacts to Ritsuka's frantic turmoil, drawing closer, seeking to intertwine with Ritsuka, to merge Ritsuka's essence with the power of Kin'Yoko. It cant though. What ever this is, it is wrathful, a violent force that is hostile and malevolent, and it is inside Ritsuka, feelings of loss, fury, confusion drifting inside Ritsuka and keeping Kin'Yoko's light from breaking through... at least for now. A soft breeze stirs, rustling the silk banners that hang above-- their embroidered foxes and falling petals fluttering like whispers of caution. Ritsuka catches fleeting glimpses of movement in the corners of Ritsuka's vision, shadows that dart just beyond the edge of perception, leaving Ritsuka with a prickling sensation at the nape of Ritsuka's neck. The forest holds its breath; The mist flows around Ritsuka, and the world seems to pause-- teetering on the edge of a curious, nail-biting anticipation, as if the very earth beneath Ritsuka is aligning with Ritsuka's inner storm. Rage-- rage-- rage-- fury! Though the distant sound of waves brings a semblance of calm... Though unfortunately for Ritsuka, it is drowned out by the rising tide of her emotions. The chill creeps deeper, an insidious presence that seeps into Ritsuka's bones, a devilish understanding that peace is but a fragile illusion. The morning sun, though bright, feels like a spotlight on Ritsuka's growing rage, shining a refulgent light on the turmoil that threatens to consume Ritsuka whole. In this sanctified place where Kin'Yoko's warmth should envelop Ritsuka, there is an unsettling knowledge that darkness lingers, waiting for the opportune moment to strike-- The calm before the storm feels more like the calm before a reckoning, and as Ritsuka stands there, heart racing, Ritsuka is acutely aware that something is awakening within Ritsuka a force that is as wild and untamed as the Mystical Haven forest itself. Ritsuka takes a deep breath-- It's not Ritsuka doing it. It's something else-- the floral fragrance mingling with the scent of smoke, and Ritsuka brace herself for whatever may come next. Then, furiously, Ritsuka screams her anguish and fury, ice sorcery bursting from between Ritsuka's fingers as her arms are thrown out. Ritsuka-- No, the sorcerer possessing Ritsuka is awakening, and this spirit is angered from the explosion that caused its death not an hour back. It needs revenge...
Ah, of course that just had to happen, as it is always prone to do. But Ritsuka was not entirely defenseless either, the rage and sudden fury is, at the least, observed by others that will almost immediately find that it is odd, that yes, something was not so right. And with these kind of things that draw to such an extreme out of the ordinary, lest of all, ice sorcery, something entirely disconnected to her, it may have someone pass on a message to the ritualists.
But that was not Ritsuka, who balls a hand into a first at this foreign presence, not happy in the slightest, not happy at all, to look inward. She was no arcanist, but this was by far not the first rodeo, and though it is difficult emotions, she had been possessed before. By Alabaster, by Kin'Yoko, and though it is a fight with your own limbs, it is a struggle that can be fought and done. And so she does. Even shifting, it makes her more dangerous to be approached, it means she cannot be bound, but that form was also far more familiar to her, than it would be for an elemental sorcerer who usually cannot shift.
The atmosphere thickens with frost-laidened tension as the serene beauty of the shrine is shattered by the tumultuous force within Ritsuka(Kitsune). The once gentle breeze that stirred the silk banners now carries an icy bite, underlining the clash between the tranquil shrine and the chaos within Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s soul. Mist twists, it spins and the smoke continues to rise. The sun beats down, though it's cold and Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. It's a slow thing. It's painful and cold, but Ritsuka(Kitsune) manages it! The air, already fragrant with the rich scent of camellias, feels electrified, as if the very essence of the even the Haven inner forest is recoiling from the powerful elemental magic surging through Ritsuka(Kitsune) relentlessly, racking Ritsuka(Kitsune) with pain as the sorcerer from the Sapphire Martyrs fights with Ritsuka(Kitsune) for control-- Control that Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not allow it! The crimson and violet blossoms-- vibrant and alive, seem to wilt slightly under the weight of the cryomancy of the sorcerer's rage. They whisper among themselves, their petals trembling as they absorb the chill creeping into their midst-- But they do not die. someone' will not allow that. Kin'Yoko protects her shrine with that familiar comforting golden light. The torii gate stands resolute, against all of this, even as frost creeps over it, melting as soon as it touches it; silent perceptive witness to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s struggle, and it helps; its ancient kanji glowing faintly as though in response to the growing frost. The air shimmers as the power of the eidolon fights the spirit-- fights to save Ritsuka(Kitsune), her priestess. The warmth of the ground around the stone altar contrasts sharply with the freezing wave emanating from Ritsuka(Kitsune), creating a stark dichotomy of life and death, warmth and cold-- Snow and sun, as Kin'Yoko's shrine comes to life around Ritsuka(Kitsune). The offerings, incense, blood-red sake, and scraps of parchment-- appear almost vibrant in their defiance against the encroaching ice, but they too are at the mercy of the elemental fury within Ritsuka(Kitsune) Threatened by the sorcerer fighting Ritsuka(Kitsune) As Ritsuka(Kitsune) kneels-- against Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s will, Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s fingers tracing the intricate norse runes in the freshly fallen snow, each line seems to pulse with a frigid life of its own, imbued with the desperate energy of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --no. The sorcerer's intent. The runes glow faintly, illuminating the shrine around Ritsuka(Kitsune) with white-blue arcane light, but the swirling frost threatens to obscure Kin'Yoko's brilliance. The ground beneath Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels alive, as if it recognizes the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s purpose; a heartbeat echoing in the silence of the forest as Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights the sorcerer-- And the cryomancy of elemental magic fights Ritsuka(Kitsune) back! The waves crash rhythmically in the distance, their sound a haunting reminder of the world beyond this sacred shrine to Kin'Yoko, a world that hangs in the balance if the sorcerer is successful. The world must end that other realms may survive; the purpose of the Sapphire Martyrs. The dark grey storm clouds above loom ominously, their presence mirroring the turmoil within Ritsuka(Kitsune). Ritsuka(Kitsune) can feel Kin'Yoko's light hovering just out of reach, desperately trying to break through the icy barrier erected by the monstrous sorcerer, but for now, it cant. As Ritsuka(Kitsune) begins to create the frozen dome around herself, the air crackles with Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --the sorcerer's cryomancy, a wild and unyielding sorcerous force that seeks to shield Ritsuka(Kitsune) from all intrusions. Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer will succeed where it could not, and this life in Ritsuka(Kitsune) is powerful enough to aid it to achieve its martyrdom. The ice spreads outward, crystalline tendrils weaving together, forming an impenetrable barrier that radiates a cold so profound it seems to suck the warmth from the very air around Ritsuka(Kitsune), but Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. The shift begins and the dome is not completed. People are noticing. In this moment, the sorcerer is the puppeteer and and Ritsuka(Kitsune) the marionette, the wielder of ice and the vessel of rage. The world outside the dome fades, the sounds of the forest muffled, as Ritsuka(Kitsune) becomes the center of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s own storm, driven by the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer's resolve. Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not be stopped. The ritual for the Sapphire martyrs will be completed, and whatever the cost--be it Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s life or the wrath of the power that stopped it last time--@ritsuka will fulfill her purpose. Then Ritsuka(Kitsune) achieves it-- The shift takes place, and as everyone knows, without the hands to weave the power, or the mind to channel it, magic is not achievable. Ritsuka(Kitsune), now a kitsune stands bastion, presiding over Kin'Yoko's shrine, and the sorcerer rages within. It still fights, but it is impotent-- held in place as the Iron Camellia run to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s aid, magic wielded as the ritualists begin their banishment ritual, the soldiers dismantling the half-formed ice dome and the ritual from the sorcerer not even completed. It rages inside Ritsuka(Kitsune). Its fury is powerful, but it simply cant perform its magic. It is only a matter of time now.
The atmosphere thickens with frost-laidened tension as the serene beauty of the shrine is shattered by the tumultuous force within Ritsuka(Kitsune). The once gentle breeze that stirred the silk banners now carries an icy bite, underlining the clash between the tranquil shrine and the chaos within Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s soul. Mist twists, it spins and the smoke continues to rise. The sun beats down, though it's cold and Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. It's a slow thing. It's painful and cold, but Ritsuka(Kitsune) manages it! The air, already fragrant with the rich scent of camellias, feels electrified, as if the very essence of the even the Haven inner forest is recoiling from the powerful elemental magic surging through Ritsuka(Kitsune) relentlessly, racking Ritsuka(Kitsune) with pain as the sorcerer from the Sapphire Martyrs fights with Ritsuka(Kitsune) for control-- Control that Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not allow it! The crimson and violet blossoms-- vibrant and alive, seem to wilt slightly under the weight of the cryomancy of the sorcerer's rage. They whisper among themselves, their petals trembling as they absorb the chill creeping into their midst-- But they do not die. Kin'Yoko will not allow that. Kin'Yoko protects her shrine with that familiar comforting golden light. The torii gate stands resolute, against all of this, even as frost creeps over it, melting as soon as it touches it; silent perceptive witness to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s struggle, and it helps; its ancient kanji glowing faintly as though in response to the growing frost. The air shimmers as the power of the eidolon fights the spirit-- fights to save Ritsuka(Kitsune), her priestess. The warmth of the ground around the stone altar contrasts sharply with the freezing wave emanating from Ritsuka(Kitsune), creating a stark dichotomy of life and death, warmth and cold-- Snow and sun, as Kin'Yoko's shrine comes to life around Ritsuka(Kitsune). The offerings, incense, blood-red sake, and scraps of parchment-- appear almost vibrant in their defiance against the encroaching ice, but they too are at the mercy of the elemental fury within Ritsuka(Kitsune) Threatened by the sorcerer fighting Ritsuka(Kitsune) As Ritsuka(Kitsune) kneels-- against Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s will, Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s fingers tracing the intricate norse runes in the freshly fallen snow, each line seems to pulse with a frigid life of its own, imbued with the desperate energy of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --no. The sorcerer's intent. The runes glow faintly, illuminating the shrine around Ritsuka(Kitsune) with white-blue arcane light, but the swirling frost threatens to obscure Kin'Yoko's brilliance. The ground beneath Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels alive, as if it recognizes the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s purpose; a heartbeat echoing in the silence of the forest as Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights the sorcerer-- And the cryomancy of elemental magic fights Ritsuka(Kitsune) back! The waves crash rhythmically in the distance, their sound a haunting reminder of the world beyond this sacred shrine to Kin'Yoko, a world that hangs in the balance if the sorcerer is successful. The world must end that other realms may survive; the purpose of the Sapphire Martyrs. The dark grey storm clouds above loom ominously, their presence mirroring the turmoil within Ritsuka(Kitsune). Ritsuka(Kitsune) can feel Kin'Yoko's light hovering just out of reach, desperately trying to break through the icy barrier erected by the monstrous sorcerer, but for now, it cant. As Ritsuka(Kitsune) begins to create the frozen dome around herself, the air crackles with Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s --the sorcerer's cryomancy, a wild and unyielding sorcerous force that seeks to shield Ritsuka(Kitsune) from all intrusions. Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer will succeed where it could not, and this life in Ritsuka(Kitsune) is powerful enough to aid it to achieve its martyrdom. The ice spreads outward, crystalline tendrils weaving together, forming an impenetrable barrier that radiates a cold so profound it seems to suck the warmth from the very air around Ritsuka(Kitsune), but Ritsuka(Kitsune) fights. The shift begins and the dome is not completed. People are noticing. In this moment, the sorcerer is the puppeteer and and Ritsuka(Kitsune) the marionette, the wielder of ice and the vessel of rage. The world outside the dome fades, the sounds of the forest muffled, as Ritsuka(Kitsune) becomes the center of Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s own storm, driven by the weight of Ritsuka(Kitsune) --the sorcerer's resolve. Ritsuka(Kitsune) will not be stopped. The ritual for the Sapphire martyrs will be completed, and whatever the cost--be it Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s life or the wrath of the power that stopped it last time--@ritsuka will fulfill her purpose. Then Ritsuka(Kitsune) achieves it-- The shift takes place, and as everyone knows, without the hands to weave the power, or the mind to channel it, magic is not achievable. Ritsuka(Kitsune), now a kitsune stands bastion, presiding over Kin'Yoko's shrine, and the sorcerer rages within. It still fights, but it is impotent-- held in place as the Iron Camellia run to Ritsuka(Kitsune)'s aid, magic wielded as the ritualists begin their banishment ritual, the soldiers dismantling the half-formed ice dome and the ritual from the sorcerer not even completed. It rages inside Ritsuka(Kitsune). Its fury is powerful, but it simply cant perform its magic. It is only a matter of time now.
Part of Ritsuka(Kitsune) wants to stand up, roll around, rush into the forest, maybe 'accidentally' extinct the local area of any deer - but that is not the method with which the Tsubaki no Tetsu, its women, needs to garb themselves with. No, it is not at all. Tempered fury behind a veil of grace, and though she for her own still has much to learn about it, too, that is what must be the aim. Grace. This form was familiar to her, almost like a second nature - and so she makes to attempt to lie down, for long enough to perhaps be bound up, to be caught. Not that that would be easy in any case, her fur held a magical barrier to keep her safe.
Ritsuka(Kitsune) holds the sorcerer in place. Ritsuka(Kitsune) feels its rage as it is chained within her. The Tsubaki No Tetsu arcanists work on the banishment-- It takes some time. They are just not as good as some arcanists, but adept enough, especially in such numbers. The chill air begins to warm. Kin'Yoko's strength-- her power flows. The sun beats down and it flows through Ritsuka(Kitsune). The dome is dismantled. The air grows heated with a warmth of summer and the power of the spirit within Ritsuka(Kitsune) lestens. It's forced from Ritsuka(Kitsune) like blood being drawn. The sting of pain and the needle of power as the sorcerer, still clawing for its revenge is plucked from Ritsuka(Kitsune) like a splinter by the ritualists. Kin'Yoko's power flows. It is mighty. Ritsuka is able to more once more, free and all that remains is to clean up after the sorcerer's failed ritual. No power remains. No strength, no arcana. It is simply a null. The Iron Camellia shatter the ice and the begin to clean it out. The ritualists surround Ritsuka(Kitsune). They bow, then chant and finally, the spirit is extracted, its lingering threats drifting into the cool spring air, never to be heard again. Ritsuka(Kitsune) stopped the Sapphire Martyrs and this sorcerer. The shrine is cleaned, the day resumes normality and Ritsuka(Kitsune) is able to return to her meditations in the safety of Kin'Yoko's shrine.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
The air is still, heavy with the weight of an oncoming storm. A dense, gray sky looms over the towering pines that surround the house, a wooden structure nestled deep in the thick forests outside Haven. The trees stand silent and bare, their branches skeletal against the sky, reaching like grasping fingers toward the unseen sun. The chill is absolute, the kind that bites through wool and lingers in the marrow of bone, despite the lack of wind. It is the sort of cold that renders the world quiet, stripping away birdsong and the rustling of underbrush.
Victoria's home is a sanctuary against the freeze, where the path leading to the front door is uneven, covered in frost and edged with brittle undergrowth that has long since withered in the grasp of winter's waning touch. Inside, warmth fills the space. The scent of burning cedar and aged wood lingers, rich and heady, mingling with the faint aroma of something spiced- perhaps tea left to steep too long. The room is simple but not sparse, curated in a way that speaks of comfort rather than excess. The walls, paneled with aged oak, enclose the space in a rustic embrace. The main feature is the large bed against the far wall, its heavy wooden frame carved with care. Several layers of thick, woven blankets pile atop it, their edges slightly askew, disturbed but inviting. A fur throw lies draped at the foot of the bed, its texture luxurious against the otherwise practical arrangement. The headboard, upholstered in black velvet, adds a touch of refinement.
Beyond the comfort of the interior, however, exists trouble.
The state police have arrived.
The call came in two days prior, the voice on the other end urgent, sure. There had been murders- brutal ones. The kind that leaves a town shaken, the kind that demands answers. And the name given was hers.
The details were grisly: a string of killings spanning the last six months, each one precise, methodical, yet disturbingly intimate. The victims bore wounds too deliberate to be random acts of violence. There was no chaos, no frenzy. Just the quiet, calculated efficiency of someone who knew how to kill and how to cover their tracks. Whoever had tipped off the police had been convincing, their information chillingly detailed. Enough to warrant action. Enough to bring the state police into Haven's quiet borders.
But something felt off.
There was no direct evidence, only the whisper of possibility, the weight of suspicion. The higher-ups weren't convinced, but they weren't willing to dismiss it outright either. Not without confirmation. And so, instead of a full tactical team, they sent only two officers. A quiet approach. A knock at the door, a few questions. Feel it out first. See if the name that had landed in their laps belonged to a monster, or if someone had simply thrown a woman to the wolves.
Detective Saul Lorne steps out of the vehicle first, his boots crunching against frost-laced dirt. He is a broad man, solidly built, with dark eyes that miss nothing. His hands remain in his pockets, fingers brushing the cold metal of his badge, a habitual gesture more than anything. There is tension in his shoulders, but not from fear- from caution. Haven is small. He knows places like this have long memories, old grudges.
Beside him, Officer Dana Holtz follows, her breath rising in thin clouds. She is younger, sharp-eyed, fingers idly brushing against the radio clipped to her belt. Her expression is unreadable, though there is a flicker of something in her eyes- a hesitation, perhaps, or merely the wariness of stepping onto unknown ground. They stand before the house now, dwarfed by the towering trees that seem to press inward, framing the structure like the centerpiece of some grim tableau. Lorne glances up at the sky. The storm hasn't broken yet, but it will. Soon.
To fit with the weather, the older of the two is dressed in a thick, dark wool coat that falls just past his hips, the fabric worn at the elbows, suggesting years of use. Beneath it, a simple button-up shirt, dark gray, is tucked neatly into a pair of well-fitted slacks. His leather belt holds a holstered sidearm, the weight of it familiar at his hip. His boots are sturdy, built for long hours on his feet, their soles scuffed from wear. A scarf, dark blue and frayed at the ends, is wrapped loosely around his neck, the only concession to the biting cold. His gloves are leather, well-worn, creased at the knuckles from frequent use.
Meanwhile, by contrast, Officer Dana is more utilitarian in her attire. She wears the standard dark navy state police jacket, the fabric thick enough to stave off the cold but still stiff from infrequent use. Her uniform is crisp beneath it- a pressed button-up with the department's insignia stitched neatly into the sleeve. Her trousers are reinforced for durability, paired with practical, rubber-soled boots designed for grip. A beanie, black and unadorned, covers her ears, her blonde hair tucked neatly beneath it. Her gloves are tactical, designed for dexterity, fingers flexing slightly as she adjusts her stance in the cold.
Both of them look prepared, but not armored- this isn't a raid, at least not yet. Just then, Holtz moves in, knocks at the door... And the sound is loud in the quiet, echoing through the stillness like the first crack of ice before a lake begins to break apart. What follows, in wait for Victoria, is only preparedness, silence, a cut-throat wait in a pair that give one another furtive looks, to find whether they've really been lead to the gaping maw of a monster, or simply a woman out in the woods.
There, they wait.
Relaxing in bed, scrolling her phone, Victoria frowns when she hears the knock at her door. With a sigh, she stands, moving first to a window to peer outside. Her eyes narrow, seeing the vehicle, but she gives a shrug, heading for her front door. As she swings it open, she greets the two officers with a bright smile, though her gaze sweeps each from head to toe. "Afternoon," she says with a tilt of her head. "Can I help you with something?"