Encounterlogs
Marcuss Odd Encounter Sr Jack
Marcus, a loyal domestic dog waiting outside his owner Rachel's trailer, is lured by the sounds of chanting coming from a nearby abandoned trailer. Investigating, he discovers a group of teenagers led by a girl named Molly who have accidentally summoned a fire demon while attempting a séance. Marcus is strangely drawn to and tamely approached by the emerging demon, while Rachel searches for Marcus, encountering a jogger named Ryan who has followed the dog to the trailer. As the teenagers flee, acrid sulfur fills the air, and a fire-like figure grows from the candles used in the ritual.
The demon, identified as Samael, Prince of Fire, takes interest in Marcus but ignores Rachel and Ryan. When Ryan unsuccessfully tries to banish the entity, Samael uses occult forces to suspend Rachel and Ryan in the air, choking them. Desperate, Marcus heroically extinguishes the candles, one by one, despite the pain, diminishing the demon's presence. With the last candle snuffed out, Samael's link to the world breaks, releasing Rachel and Ryan from their invisible bonds. As sirens approach, the trio—Marcus, Rachel, and Ryan—make their escape from the site of the supernatural encounter, with the teenagers' book in Ryan's possession and the demon seemingly banished.
(Marcus's odd encounter(SRJack):SRJack)
[Thu Dec 14 2023]
At the porch of a double-wide trailer
This double-wide trailer has certainly seen its better days. Likely built in the 80s, the exterior has been updated and upgraded a few times, as evidenced by the melding of different architectural concepts. A cracked and slightly uneven sidewalk, the bright yellow heads and dark green leaves of dandelions poking through, leads up to a covered porch. The awning is a cheery, sunny yellow, trying to add a little pop of color and life into an otherwise bland sort of building. The porch and home is elevated, three creaky wooden steps leading up to the dark blue painted door. Who knows what sort of wildlife is lurking in the crawlspace beneath the home itself.
It is afternoon, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing.
(Your target encounters a group of teenagers conducting a séance in an abandoned house. The teens accidentally summon a demon and it's up to your character to banish the entity before it wreaks havoc on the town.)
Marcus(domestic dog) sits on his great haunches before the door of the double-wide trailer, occasionally reaching up to scratch with a tentative paw. A soft whine escapes his throat as the dog's hope of being let in to the warmth of the trailer continues to dwindle. Still, he opts to wait a little longer, patient and loyal as any good boy worth his salt.
Noise, from a nearby trailer that's had a FOR RENT sign on it for a while, trickling in to prick at Marcus(domestic dog)' senses. It's a strange sound: three voices in a kind of halting unison, speaking a language Marcus(domestic dog) likely does not understand, unless he is an expert in created medieval languages. Regardless, though: there's a strange sibilance to it, and at the very least it suggests perhaps the door is open to the abandoned trailer, and with it some heat.
Marcus(domestic dog) is no expert in medieval languages, created or otherwise, and judging from his looks, one might question his command of pretty much any human language. Nonetheless, the canine's sensitive ears perk up, and, with a paw still planted on the door of the double-wide, he turns his big head towards the source of the sound. Slowly that paw lowers as his attention shifts entirely to the other trailer. Cautiously, he lifts himself off his haunches and begins to pad in the direction of the sound and warmth. He sniffs the biting cold air and the frosty ground as he goes, investigating the smells as well as the sounds, sights, and temperature.
The front door of the trailer, usually boarded up, swings open in the bitter winter wind, as Marcus(domestic dog) approaches the trailer he can hear voices inside. There's definitely some chanting, but then it is cut off with a giggle. "No," a rather bossy female voice says. "It's not AH-SOL, it's AY-SOL," she says, correcting someone else's pronunciation. When that corrected word is uttered, Marcus(domestic dog) can feel a sudden wind rush in from behind, ruffling over his coat, and then his nose pricks.
...carried on the wind is the faintest smell of sulfur.
Marcus(domestic dog) slows his progress over to the trailer, but still his paws carry him forth, albeit at an all-the-more uncertain pace. Eventually he makes it to the now-ajar front door of the trailer. He plants himself in front of it, ready to just listen at the moment, and feel the vague warmth exuded from inside. Perhaps for the best. He's not exactly inconspicuous.
When Rachel gets home to her trailer, Marcus(domestic dog) is not there: not waiting outside like a good dog, not waiting inside like a good dog, not -anywhere- to be seen, really. Perhaps that's not the sort of thing to worry about, but then, pricking against Rachel's nose is the briefest smell of sulphur, drifting from the general direction of the empty, FOR-RENT trailer just down the way from her own.
True, Marcus(domestic dog) is an escape artist: a true Hound-ini. Rachel doesn't worry, not at first. Her jeans pockets are rooted through for several seconds, a metal jangling produced alongside her keys. Just before she inserts them into her door, she pauses. Her nose wrinkles. That's disgusting. Down the stairs she goes again, searching for the root of that stench. Maybe something died under her porch. May it not be Marcus(domestic dog).
...sulfur, yes: and then brimstone. The smell is definitely coming from the trailer nearby, and when Rachel gets closer, approaching perhaps from the side, she can see the flicker of light from inside the trailer. Shadows play across the windows like candle flames.
Someone normal might knock on the door to inquire after the smell; a squatter's clearly home. Someone normal might, alternatively, walk away. Rachel isn't normal. She ducks a little, the better to avoid attracting attention as she creeps up to the window. The top of her head barely crests the sill.
A look from Rachel, careful and low, and then as Rachel peeks over the window sill she can see three girls inside the bedroom of the trailer. They're down low: one of them on her knees, the other two seated criss-cross applesauce, as the girl on her knees tries to read from a large, black book. The candles seem to flicker in time with her reading.
Around the side of the house, Marcus(domestic dog) is at the front door: he can't quite see the bedroom from where he sits near the door, but he can hear the chanting and smell sulfur and brimstone quite directly.
The scent of sulfur may be intriguing to Marcus(domestic dog)'s nose, but he is struck more keenly by a more familiar scent. Leaving his post at the front door, he follows the smell of Rachel around the circumference of the trailer, finding her near the window she investigates. He doesn't bark, he doesn't paw at her, he doesn't bother her. He just quietly (as quietly as a massive Great Dane can be) approaches and watches her and the trailer with uncertain but ever-somber eyes.
Alright. The candles - weird. The three girls sitting in a ritual circle - horror movie weird. Rachel sloooooowly sidles away from her place by the window, only to walk straight into Marcus(domestic dog). Of course her senses aren't as keen as his. "Erk!" she exclaims - or some approximation of that. And then she shushes him, as if he were the one to be too loud.
Jogging up as he followed along, Looking to someone as he asks, "Rachel?" Ryan says quietly, having just seen her on MyHaven, but not having met her in person, wearing some workout clothes as he asks in a whisper, "I was out on a jog, and saw your dog and wanted to pet him, what's going on here?" he asks.
Jogging up as he followed along, Looking to Rachel as he asks, "Rachel?" Ryan says quietly, having just seen her on MyHaven, but not having met her in person, wearing some workout clothes as he asks in a whisper, "I was out on a jog, and saw your dog and wanted to pet him, what's going on here?" he asks.
As Ryan approaches, he sees the scene: Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog), by the front door of the house. He can't hear the chanting from the inside, making a little bit of rattling noise, but it turns out the girls inside can hear him.
From inside the house, there's a shout. "Oh shit!" a girl shouts. "We gotta go! We're not supposed to be here!" The chanting stops abruptly, but then the smell of sulfur and brimstone increases with sudden force.
Rachel hisses at Ryan, her index finger shoved aggressively up against her mouth. "Shh!!" She hasn't met someone, but she's sure comfortable skipping the niceties. He's gestured at, the palm of her hand swiping down. 'Get low,' she says, without saying. She's still crouched by the house like some kind of Chinese Krampus.
Rachel hisses at Ryan, her index finger shoved aggressively up against her mouth. "Shh!!" She hasn't met Ryan, but she's sure comfortable skipping the niceties. He's gestured at, the palm of her hand swiping down. 'Get low,' she says, without saying. She's still crouched by the house like some kind of Chinese Krampus.
And then the shouting begins. Rachel's not supposed to be here either. "Atlas, go go go." Poor pup. His collar's tugged at, hard.
Crouching down next to Rachel as Ryan nods, patting at his messenger bag for something, he slips his hand inside of it as he asks Rachel, "What do we do? Are they trespassing?"
Marcus(domestic dog) whines reflexively as Rachel tugs his collar, and his tail wags, far more anxiously than happily. He's always been good at commands, but either he doesn't understand 'go' or he is disinclined to leave Rachel's side. Whatever the case, he remains rooted where he is, and he's a hard beast to budge without some serious strength.
There's an explosion of movement from inside the trailer, as the three girls start to grab their bags and run. Of course, they are running for the door: right where everyone is.
If Samara #1, #2, and #3 in the trailer don't get Ryan, Rachel's going to. She'd just told him to 'sh,' and here he is, maybe ruining their cover. It's no help that Marcus(domestic dog) won't move, too. Not that Rachel doesn't try to make him. She tugs and tugs and tugs. "*Atlas*," she loudly whispers at him. What hypocrisy, that she's allowed to raise her voice. Rachel won't leave Marcus(domestic dog) either. Like dog, like owner.
Quieting down, Ryan nods to Rachel as his nose wrinkles up, smelling the sulfur and brimstone as he shakes his head, rifling through his bag quietly as he searches for something. He stays crouched down behind Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog), watching the door.
As the girls run from the front door, behind them the candles are growing, increasing in size as the flames start to rush high. They don't seem to notice, though: instead, the three teens burst out the front door, only to run into Rachel, Marcus(domestic dog) and Ryan. The first one, obviously the leader, stops short, black book in her hand. "What are you doing here??" she demands.
Marcus(domestic dog) has no verbal response, so instead he just barks at the ringleader -- a deep, resonant woof from deep within his gullet.
Well, Marcus(domestic dog) certainly can't answer. Ryan could. But it's Rachel who ultimately speaks up first. "I live... here?" That's a true statement. She could've said that far more convincingly. Perhaps it would have been better to let Marcus(domestic dog)'s response sit alone, after all; his 'speak' trick is absolutely more winsome than hers.
"Out for a jog." Ryan says as he rises up from his crouch, dusting himself off as he motions to the trailer, "Smelled something bad, and uh..." he motions to Rachel, "Was visiting a friend in the area. She lives here...yeah. What are -you- doing here?"
Ringleader girl stares at Rachel. "It's abandoned," she says. "Are you -homeless?-" she asks, her tone dripping with judgment.
Next to her, one of the other girls says in a hushed tone, "We're supposed to say unhoused!"
Somewhere behind them all, the cast of firelight is getting brighter, dancing.
Peeking behind them into the trailer, Ryan asks them, "Hey, that fire should like...totes not be unattended, you guys going to put that out or like...let the whole place burn down?" Ryan asks as he points at it, "Maybe you could toss a bucket on those candles and things? Kinda looking like a fire hazard."
"No, not... HERE here. There here." Rachel removes ambiguity by pointing at the trailer next door, which admittedly also looks abandoned. The grass is overgrown. The stairs bear cracks from years of summer heat. Is that yellow caution tape in the distance, around the side? Saved by Ryan from further mortification.
The ringleader asks Ryan suspiciously, "Then what were you doing creeping around staring in people's windows?"
Marcus(domestic dog) seemed intent upon being rooted to the spot when Rachel wanted him to leave, but -now-, just when it's most inconvenient to do so, he gets up from his great haunches, and begins to walk with a stately determination towards the door of the abandoned trailer, fireglow and all. Once again his tail wags with anxiety, but he doesn't falter in his pace. If not able to be stopped, he will pass the threshold into the ominously firelit trailer.
"Who...me?" Ryan says as he motions to the trailer where the fire is growing, "I smelled some like...methane? You know that kind of stuff happens when a septic tank backs up, my dude. I didn't want you all to have an overflow in your toilet, so I was coming over to let you know? But like...you know, it's okay if you don't want me to be a good neighbor or anything, you'll totes be drowning in unflushed poop by the end of the week if you don't get it fixed, bros."
Rachel now eyes Marcus(domestic dog) with the utmost sternness. While Ryan's getting grilled, it's the opportune moment for him to -- oh goddammit. Nope, there he is, going exactly where he shouldn't. "ATLAS." That's a voice that will brook no obedience. "GET BACK HERE." She jogs the short distance after him, ready to - well, fail to yank him backward. Clearly she's proven she's got the strength of wet cardboard.
Rachel meant disobedience.
Inside the residence, Marcus(domestic dog) can see the remnants of the girls' ritual: a circle, drawn in school chalk, with some symbols a professional symbologist would say are terribly drawn. The candles flickering around the outside of the circle are a potpourri of scents, since they all appear to discount candles from Bath & Body Works. Their flames, though: they flicker, and it seems as if they are almost growing together into the form of a man.
Outside, by contrast, the girls are confronting Rachel and Ryan. "Methane?" the ringleader asks. "GROSS." She declares. "Brit, Jenn, we need to get out of here. These people are extra creeps."
Marcus(domestic dog) whimpers at the disciplinary voice, his wagging tail tucking between his legs. Clearly the sternness has had a profound effect on him. But not profound enough -- he doesn't stop. Even when he's being tugged back, he doesn't stop. Even when he seems like he's moving through molasses, fighting the urge to obey, to be a good boy, he still pads onward, with the saddest, sorriest look over his shoulder that one can imagine. Across the threshold he goes, approaching the figure with the fireglow reflected in his pools of melancholy eyes. He doesn't sit this time, remaining upright and alert, staring at the coalescing man.
Stepping in front of them, Ryan glances up at Marcus(domestic dog) sniffing at the ritual circle, and holds up a hand, "Not without handing over that book you've got, my dude." he says sternly as he holds out his hand to recieve it. "You're dabbling in some shit that can probably get you hurt. Let me see that thing."
Ryan stepped in front of the girls trying to leave, not Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog).
Rachel's still in earshot of Brit, Jenn, and Crabby, Unnamed Teenaged Girl. It would behoove her to turn the ninety degrees to what Marcus(domestic dog) is looking at - but no. Yet again, her senses are not so keen as his. Her focus is on the girls, and on Ryan. "In about five years," she tells them, borrowing from her austerity with Marcus(domestic dog), "You're going to regret not developing better manners." Her attention shifts.
Maybe she'll look into the trailer. Maybe... ah, no. It's Marcus(domestic dog) that has the full weight of her displeasure. "You've never been like this before. Come on. Don't you want fish? I'll get you fish."
"I think they'd actually benefit from reading a few books," Rachel mutters, only loud enough for Ryan to hear.
Ringleader holds the book to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. "No," she says, though her expression has perhaps the faintest hint of fear. Ryan is big and fit, after all, even if he only has the one arm.
"Molly," one of the girls -- Brit? -- says. "This whole thing has me super sketch."
In the bedroom, the flames seem to step out of the candles: they flicker towards the center of the circle, starting to firmly coalesce now into the figure of a man.
Glancing over to the trailer as something is coming out of the candles, Ryan growls at the ringleader, nodding towards the trailer, "You know how to banish that thing? Whatever it is that you made there? Give me the fucking book, bro!" he says with some insistence, drawing up to his full height as his brows tick down in seriousness.
Something must be really transfixing Marcus(domestic dog) inside that trailer, because usually the promise of food would have him bounding back towards Rachel. Usually it wouldn't even take that much -- just a command. But today, he is determined to be a bad dog. Maybe it's the warmth of the growing fire that has him spellbound, but...more likely it's something about the entity that forms from the gathering candlelight. He licks his chops nervously, standing on all fours before the fiery apperition.
From outside of the trailer, the scene on the inside is not visible.
[Amended] Smelling sulfur and brimstone and not seeing what the dog is investigating, Ryan growls at the ringleader, nodding towards the trailer, "Do you know what you're doing with whatever that is? Give me the fucking book, bro!" he says with some insistence, drawing up to his full height as his brows tick down in seriousness.
Finally. FINALLY Rachel is made to see. Ryan's growing infuriation goads her toward investigation. She looks up, right at what Marcus(domestic dog) is fixated on. Now's when she should be booking it, forcing her dog to go with her, like it or not. Instead, she stands there, dumbstruck. Some people fight. Some people flee. She's at some unhappy, purgatorial medium.
"I'm not giving the book!" the girl, Molly, says. "I paid good money for this book!" The spine very clearly has a 'Property of White Oak Library' sticker down at the bottom. "Come on," she says to Brit and Jenn, now walking straight at Ryan in hopes he will step aside.
Inside, Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog) can see the figure, limned in fire, and it seems to smile. "Oh," it says to Marcus(domestic dog). "Hello. Aren't you an interesting thing?" There's a step towards the dog, out of the circle, as if the chalk drawn on the ground doesn't matter. Its words are the crackling of campfires, eerily audible to both Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog). "Such a ... why." Almost amusement on the fire-being's features.
"Hey, here...I'll pay you for it." Ryan says as he gets his wallet, "How much was it? And do your professors know you're out here doing...whatever this is?" Ryan asks as he glances towards the trailer. "I don't want you to get hurt, dudes. You don't know what kind of bad shit could be in that book."
A look between the girls again, and then finally, Molly says to Ryan, "Okay, fine. A hundred bucks." There's some satisfaction from the teenager that a hundred bucks is a 'big score.'
Marcus(domestic dog) smacks his chops nervously again, and edges back from the flaming figure as it approaches, but he doesn't bolt. Other than that reflexive inch he withdraws, he doesn't shy away further. His tail tucks, but he stands his ground. For once, Rachel is not his one and only. For once, he has eyes only for this apparition.
"You shitting me? I'll give you fifty." Ryan says as he shows the girl the butt of a revolver in his messenger bag, "And I suggest you take it." he notes with some concern. "White Oak will be hearing about this...Molly, Brit, and Jenn."
Funny that Ryan's just over there, haggling.
Over here: abject terror. Rachel doesn't scream. That would take movement, and every muscle's frozen into place. She just looks from the ground all... the way... uuuuuup to the top of the figure. In this moment, it might now - had it not been clear to Ryan or Marcus(domestic dog) before - be evident that she's green. Green to Haven, green to the supernatural, and certainly green to whatever the hell this thing is.
When Ryan goes from 'bribery' to 'robbery', there's a shriek from one of the girls: Jenn, probably. Molly drops the book, sheet-white, and Brit, helpfully, screams out, "He's got a gun!"
Inside, the figure seems to step towards Marcus(domestic dog). Flames run along coal-black hands as it bends over, as if leaning down to pet the dog. The smell of sulfur and brimstone is powerful, as it almost entirely ignores Rachel there's just a flitted glance at her, briefly lascivious before its attention is pulled back with interest towards the canine.
Swiping the book and putting his wallet away, Ryan heads for the trailer, walking in as he says, "Okay, let's put these candles ou...what the fuck!?" he exclaims as he sees the figure standing in the trailer, looking to pet Marcus(domestic dog) and Rachel frozen with fear.
Outside, the girls are running: probably, given their reaction, to the cops. There may be a timer ticking from the good ol' HSD.
Perhaps amazingly, Marcus(domestic dog) still doesn't move back, but he does a little uncomfortable bob on his paws that shows that he very much has the natural inclination to do so. His dark pools of eyes gaze up at the figure with that sad expression of his, his doggy brow beetling. There's always been a melancholia in his eyes, but today there's something else in the way he looks at this impossible figure -- either that, or it's just an easy anthropomorphization to fall into: his eyes carry a generous measure of desperation...and pleading.
RachelRyan's yell wakes Rachel up. Her instinct - not to run, but to save Marcus(domestic dog). She's been all kinds of illogical so far: what's one more? "Atlas." She's said his name numerous times. With irritation, with anger, with severity. Now, there's quiet and feigned composure. "Atlas." Her tongue wets her lips.
A candy bar is withdrawn from her pocket, its crinkling enticing. "Look, treat." She takes a step back, in expectation that he'll follow her. The whole time, she's got an eye on the figure.
Ryan's yell wakes Rachel up. Her instinct - not to run, but to save Marcus(domestic dog). She's been all kinds of illogical so far: what's one more? "Atlas." She's said his name numerous times. With irritation, with anger, with severity. Now, there's quiet and feigned composure. "Atlas." Her tongue wets her lips.
A candy bar is withdrawn from her pocket, its crinkling enticing. "Look, treat." She takes a step back, in expectation that he'll follow her. The whole time, she's got an eye on the figure. (fix)
The flame-figure bends over more, starting to pet Marcus(domestic dog)' head as it is entirely focused on the dog.
For those without training in the dark arts, which is everyone, this is a terrifying moment: this -thing- is clearly unearthly, mind-breakingly so, but there is no real context besides myths and stories to ground with. Most of all, it seems focused on the dog, and the trio knows it was summoned with that book, but what else? Well: that's lost to lack of education.
A shiver runs through Marcus(domestic dog)'s big form, resembling a violent chill despite the warmth of the unnatural flames. He doesn't seem to enjoy the petting, or at least he shows no signs of such. His tail remains tucked, his posture remains tense and coiled, and his eyes retain that strange desperation. A little high-pitched whine escapes, but he remains rooted to the spot, ignoring all promises of candy. It's as if he doesn't even hear it. Probably a good thing. Candy is not good for dogs. (Then again, neither are flaming monstrosities, generally speaking.)
"Hey, fiery dude!" Ryan says as he looks at the book, frantically flipping through pages to see if he can see anything that looks like this thing, looking at the marks on the ground and trying desperately to think of any movies he's seen where they've banished something, having not read many books of the sort. "Uh, Klaatu Barada Nikto?" he chants as he quotes the movie Army of Darkness, seeing of those words -actually- do anything, still flipping pages as the he starts to get a nervous shake in his hand, his mechanical prosthetic starting to gain a tick as the fingers tap on the cover of the book he's holding, his mind not able to concentrate on it as he glance up to the thing and then back down, slowly backing away to a wall as he yells, "Rachel, get back from...whatever that thing is!"
The book is not full of helpful instructions, though there is a dog-eared page that concerns the summoning of Samael, Prince of Fire. It's perhaps the right place, but it will take a moment to skim.
Rachel has begun to reflect Marcus(domestic dog)'s distress. She looks to Ryan who's, well, at least trying something. Better than she's managed. "I'm not leaving without Atlas." Who isn't budging. If he wants her to go, he's going to have to do one of two things: summon the anti-Prince of Fire, or the strength to move a two hundred pound Great Dane.
A new tack's taken. Slowly, she reaches into her bag, and emerges with... a switchblade. She's going to fight a demon with a switchblade?
No. It's brandished, right at Marcus(domestic dog)'s eye. "Atlas, GO." The dog probably doesn't understand weaponry, but it's sharp, and it's uncomfortably close. If she can't entreat him to move, maybe, just maybe, she can be threaten him into it.
Clearing his throat as Ryan speaks louder, "Samael, prince of fire!" he starts, claiming the name of the thing he thinks is in front of him, "Dude of...fire and like...coming here from the place of...fire!" he adds, glancing to Rachel for any assistance, "Like what do you want, my dude?" he states as he keeps skimming the book, trying to figure out how to get rid of this thing or bargain with it. "Uh...Look, bro. Molly, Brit, and Jenn summoned you or whatever, so like...is this make a deal or uh...on their behalf or what are you doing here, my man?" he takes a few deep breaths, his heart hammering in his chest as he tries to find the right passage or heading to deal with this thing.
The fire creature looks up from petting Marcus(domestic dog), focused on Ryan. It's hard to know what's going on in its features, but if one can read them, it is unamused. All of the candles are flowing up, flickering like a dozen rivers into the body of the creature. It's now moving away from Marcus(domestic dog) towards Ryan with some hate in its eyes.
Rachel's priority might be her dog, but hey, humans aren't nothing to her. Ryan had asked her for help, and help he'll get. The knife she'd been holding is hurled at the creature. If she had anything in the way of combat training, it might have at least hit point first. Instead, it flies in an awkward arc, on track for its hilt to make contact, unless she's exceptionally lucky.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, my dude! Samael! Go away! Be uh...be banished! By the power invested in me by the state of Massachusetts and The Order, begone!" Ryan scans the book as he moves out of the door, trying to put some distance between himself and the fiery thing, "I, Ryan Harris, renounce you, Samael, Prince of Fire!" he states, trying everything as he keeps moving backwards, trying to dodge whatever is coming at him that may have missed the fiery thing.
The knife is thrown, and it goes through the body of smoke and fire like it was not there, trailing sparks behind it as it sails through the creature's chest. On the far side, though: on the far side it impacts a candle, toppling it, and when it does its flame goes out. Suddenly, the creature is diminished, as one candle flame feeding it disappears.
The thing is on Ryan, now: it reaches for him with a flaming hand, and only barely is Ryan able to dodge it. As it does, the fiery hand comes close, and instead of real physical heat he feels a sudden terror, uncontrolled, rising up, and a difficulty to breathe. It is moving on Ryan again when it realizes Rachel attacked it, and then it turns to stare at her. Hands are thrust out, fingers pointed at both Ryan and Rachel, and then it begins to chant at them in words neither can understand.
Both Ryan and Rachel can feel bonds of occult force closing in on them as fiery hands close into fists, starting to raise each of their bodies into the air to dangle as it is becomes hard to breathe. Only Marcus(domestic dog), so recently petted by the devil, seems unaffected. Perhaps it likes the dog?
[OOC: Marcus(domestic dog) is sorry, he just got back from something he had to do real quick.]
Having seemed frozen to the spot for a while, Marcus(domestic dog) is nonetheless soon unpetrified, and he quickly whips around to stare at the apparition and the two victims. But it's Rachel that he truly watches with alarm, and a low, gruff bark escapes his throat. He starts to edge towards the demon, two steps forward, one step back, but making steady progress. A deep growl resonates within his big chest.
The demon, for his part, appears to be entirely ignoring Marcus(domestic dog) he's focused on Rachel and Ryan, now, floating in the air. Even if the loss of one of the dozen or so candles has diminished him, it doesn't seem to affect his power: instead, a wide slash of a mouth of growing louder as he slowly closes each fist.
Everyone likes the dog. He's a good boy. "Candle," Rachel croaks. She wants Marcus(domestic dog) to help, presumably. But human language is, perhaps, even beyond the best of the good boys. Both Ryan and Rachel are going to be hard-pressed to do anything themselves. Her dangling feet kick. Her face is purpling, the whites of her eyes tinged red, too. Moisture collects at her lash line. Tears.
After one last aggressive bark, Marcus(domestic dog) is unleashed. He doesn't bolt forward towards the demon, but begins to run around as if he has the zoomies. But these are zoomies with purpose. He's bolting towards candles -- but knocking them over doesn't seem to be his goal, thankfully, since that might start an even bigger fire. No, the dog has a different plan -- to snuff each of the candles out, clamping down on each wick with his big slobbery jaws, one after another. There's a little sizzle each time, and sometimes there's even a whimper that indicates that the canine is not entirely free of pain from this ordeal.
a rasping gasp that would be a scream if he had breath, Ryan hangs in the air as he flails about jabbing a hand in his pocket to get his phone, taking deep, wheezing breaths as his eyes start to fuzz around the edges and struggling to breathe though the pain, Ryan attempts to hit a button on the home screen to alert The Order that he's in danger, trying to ping an emergency for them to find him as he croaks out, "Bar-gain!"
There's a snap and a sizzle as the first candle goes down, and the devil doesn't seem to notice it. Then a second, then a third, and now, diminished, the creature is starting to turn, slowly, to stare at Marcus(domestic dog). It's still holding Rachel and Ryan sorcery-tight with those fists, as it looks at Marcus(domestic dog) with an expression that's almost shocked.
Each moment hung in the balance is another that Rachel and Ryan get closer to asphyxiation. Maybe the latter can secure help, but by the looks of it, unless they can teleport, she's going to pass out long before anyone can be of assistance. Her hands grapple against the demon's hold, but find no purchase - and slowly, those movements, too, become more feeble. It's truly down to Marcus(domestic dog).
Marcus(domestic dog) is big, as everyone knows. Thus in his frantic efforts to snuff out the candles, he knocks things over. In this he of course causes even more of a fire hazard, but the Great Dane is determined to save the demon's hostages, and so he races from candle to candle, swallowing the fire of each, singing his tongue until each is snuffed out. Each time, his whines get a little more plaintive, but he doesn't slow down, his intent fixed on putting out every single one of the candles, by hook or by crook.
One, two, three... As the candles go down, the demon begins to become smaller and smaller, until, as the last one goes out, he is just an angry red spark. When Marcus(domestic dog) clamps his jaws on the last flame, the connection linking the entity to this realm is gone completely, and then Rachel and Ryan can sag, collapsing onto the ground as the arcane power keeping them held prisoner is released. The smell of sulfur lingers still in the air, but it is dissipating, as if washed away by some wind.
Gasping and rasping for air as he hits the ground, the book topples from Ryan's grasp as he hacks and coughs. "Good, job...Atlas." Ryan says as he looks up, blinking through some tears of pain as his mind comes back from almost asphyxiation, "Definitely gonna...talk to their teacher."
Shrinking low, Marcus(domestic dog) whines, and this one is rather pitiful. He smacks his jaws, trying to get some sensation back in his numb tongue. But it's Rachel he watches, daring to start to approach, his sad eyes bearing a familiar human expression -- loss and resignation. Still, the dog's concern for Rachel is just as evident, and he keeps himself low as if in penance for what he's done, for the bad boy he's been.
Rachel falls, hard. There's the sound of thudding, dull impact and - now that her airway's unblocked, gasping breath. She's much slower to get up than Ryan. It takes an uncomfortable minute for her to so much as indicate that she's going to get up. A turn, onto her side. At least it's obvious that she is, in fact, still alive. Poor Marcus(domestic dog) - at least he has Ryan's commendation.
In the distance, sirens start to rise. Presumably one teenage girl or another has reported that a one-armed man with a gun was threatening them at Westhaven.
Marcus(domestic dog) quickly rushes to Rachel's side once she falls, and even despite his singed tongue begins to lick his master's hand, nosing his muzzle into her palm. He can't talk, but his meaning is more than evident. He's sorry. He's so sorry. Please be okay.
Crawling over to Rachel, Ryan says, "Hey...dude. We gotta go. Cops are here." Ryan notes as he tries to help her up and scuffle off to her trailer with her.
Taking the book with him, Ryan shoves it into his messenger bag, reaching out to Marcus(domestic dog) to see if he can help pull Rachel out of the trailer.
Rachel registers Ryan and, at being provided help, grasps at his forearm. She pulls herself to her knees, first, and then stands. Marcus(domestic dog) is still there, awaiting recognition. A hissing sound emerges from her throat. She might have meant to call him to her. She'll go. It's just going to be slow. Especially if she has to try, just as hard as at the beginning, to win Marcus(domestic dog)'s obedience.
Marcus(domestic dog) gets the idea, clamping down on Rachel's shirt and trying to help urge her along. He doesn't fight this time. He's ready to go home.
And the demon might have gotten away with it too, if not for those meddling kids and their dog. Away they hobble, the unlikely trio of Marcus(domestic dog), Ryan, and Rachel, distancing themselves from the sirens.
The demon, identified as Samael, Prince of Fire, takes interest in Marcus but ignores Rachel and Ryan. When Ryan unsuccessfully tries to banish the entity, Samael uses occult forces to suspend Rachel and Ryan in the air, choking them. Desperate, Marcus heroically extinguishes the candles, one by one, despite the pain, diminishing the demon's presence. With the last candle snuffed out, Samael's link to the world breaks, releasing Rachel and Ryan from their invisible bonds. As sirens approach, the trio—Marcus, Rachel, and Ryan—make their escape from the site of the supernatural encounter, with the teenagers' book in Ryan's possession and the demon seemingly banished.
(Marcus's odd encounter(SRJack):SRJack)
[Thu Dec 14 2023]
At the porch of a double-wide trailer
This double-wide trailer has certainly seen its better days. Likely built in the 80s, the exterior has been updated and upgraded a few times, as evidenced by the melding of different architectural concepts. A cracked and slightly uneven sidewalk, the bright yellow heads and dark green leaves of dandelions poking through, leads up to a covered porch. The awning is a cheery, sunny yellow, trying to add a little pop of color and life into an otherwise bland sort of building. The porch and home is elevated, three creaky wooden steps leading up to the dark blue painted door. Who knows what sort of wildlife is lurking in the crawlspace beneath the home itself.
It is afternoon, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing.
(Your target encounters a group of teenagers conducting a séance in an abandoned house. The teens accidentally summon a demon and it's up to your character to banish the entity before it wreaks havoc on the town.)
Marcus(domestic dog) sits on his great haunches before the door of the double-wide trailer, occasionally reaching up to scratch with a tentative paw. A soft whine escapes his throat as the dog's hope of being let in to the warmth of the trailer continues to dwindle. Still, he opts to wait a little longer, patient and loyal as any good boy worth his salt.
Noise, from a nearby trailer that's had a FOR RENT sign on it for a while, trickling in to prick at Marcus(domestic dog)' senses. It's a strange sound: three voices in a kind of halting unison, speaking a language Marcus(domestic dog) likely does not understand, unless he is an expert in created medieval languages. Regardless, though: there's a strange sibilance to it, and at the very least it suggests perhaps the door is open to the abandoned trailer, and with it some heat.
Marcus(domestic dog) is no expert in medieval languages, created or otherwise, and judging from his looks, one might question his command of pretty much any human language. Nonetheless, the canine's sensitive ears perk up, and, with a paw still planted on the door of the double-wide, he turns his big head towards the source of the sound. Slowly that paw lowers as his attention shifts entirely to the other trailer. Cautiously, he lifts himself off his haunches and begins to pad in the direction of the sound and warmth. He sniffs the biting cold air and the frosty ground as he goes, investigating the smells as well as the sounds, sights, and temperature.
The front door of the trailer, usually boarded up, swings open in the bitter winter wind, as Marcus(domestic dog) approaches the trailer he can hear voices inside. There's definitely some chanting, but then it is cut off with a giggle. "No," a rather bossy female voice says. "It's not AH-SOL, it's AY-SOL," she says, correcting someone else's pronunciation. When that corrected word is uttered, Marcus(domestic dog) can feel a sudden wind rush in from behind, ruffling over his coat, and then his nose pricks.
...carried on the wind is the faintest smell of sulfur.
Marcus(domestic dog) slows his progress over to the trailer, but still his paws carry him forth, albeit at an all-the-more uncertain pace. Eventually he makes it to the now-ajar front door of the trailer. He plants himself in front of it, ready to just listen at the moment, and feel the vague warmth exuded from inside. Perhaps for the best. He's not exactly inconspicuous.
When Rachel gets home to her trailer, Marcus(domestic dog) is not there: not waiting outside like a good dog, not waiting inside like a good dog, not -anywhere- to be seen, really. Perhaps that's not the sort of thing to worry about, but then, pricking against Rachel's nose is the briefest smell of sulphur, drifting from the general direction of the empty, FOR-RENT trailer just down the way from her own.
True, Marcus(domestic dog) is an escape artist: a true Hound-ini. Rachel doesn't worry, not at first. Her jeans pockets are rooted through for several seconds, a metal jangling produced alongside her keys. Just before she inserts them into her door, she pauses. Her nose wrinkles. That's disgusting. Down the stairs she goes again, searching for the root of that stench. Maybe something died under her porch. May it not be Marcus(domestic dog).
...sulfur, yes: and then brimstone. The smell is definitely coming from the trailer nearby, and when Rachel gets closer, approaching perhaps from the side, she can see the flicker of light from inside the trailer. Shadows play across the windows like candle flames.
Someone normal might knock on the door to inquire after the smell; a squatter's clearly home. Someone normal might, alternatively, walk away. Rachel isn't normal. She ducks a little, the better to avoid attracting attention as she creeps up to the window. The top of her head barely crests the sill.
A look from Rachel, careful and low, and then as Rachel peeks over the window sill she can see three girls inside the bedroom of the trailer. They're down low: one of them on her knees, the other two seated criss-cross applesauce, as the girl on her knees tries to read from a large, black book. The candles seem to flicker in time with her reading.
Around the side of the house, Marcus(domestic dog) is at the front door: he can't quite see the bedroom from where he sits near the door, but he can hear the chanting and smell sulfur and brimstone quite directly.
The scent of sulfur may be intriguing to Marcus(domestic dog)'s nose, but he is struck more keenly by a more familiar scent. Leaving his post at the front door, he follows the smell of Rachel around the circumference of the trailer, finding her near the window she investigates. He doesn't bark, he doesn't paw at her, he doesn't bother her. He just quietly (as quietly as a massive Great Dane can be) approaches and watches her and the trailer with uncertain but ever-somber eyes.
Alright. The candles - weird. The three girls sitting in a ritual circle - horror movie weird. Rachel sloooooowly sidles away from her place by the window, only to walk straight into Marcus(domestic dog). Of course her senses aren't as keen as his. "Erk!" she exclaims - or some approximation of that. And then she shushes him, as if he were the one to be too loud.
Jogging up as he followed along, Looking to someone as he asks, "Rachel?" Ryan says quietly, having just seen her on MyHaven, but not having met her in person, wearing some workout clothes as he asks in a whisper, "I was out on a jog, and saw your dog and wanted to pet him, what's going on here?" he asks.
Jogging up as he followed along, Looking to Rachel as he asks, "Rachel?" Ryan says quietly, having just seen her on MyHaven, but not having met her in person, wearing some workout clothes as he asks in a whisper, "I was out on a jog, and saw your dog and wanted to pet him, what's going on here?" he asks.
As Ryan approaches, he sees the scene: Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog), by the front door of the house. He can't hear the chanting from the inside, making a little bit of rattling noise, but it turns out the girls inside can hear him.
From inside the house, there's a shout. "Oh shit!" a girl shouts. "We gotta go! We're not supposed to be here!" The chanting stops abruptly, but then the smell of sulfur and brimstone increases with sudden force.
Rachel hisses at Ryan, her index finger shoved aggressively up against her mouth. "Shh!!" She hasn't met someone, but she's sure comfortable skipping the niceties. He's gestured at, the palm of her hand swiping down. 'Get low,' she says, without saying. She's still crouched by the house like some kind of Chinese Krampus.
Rachel hisses at Ryan, her index finger shoved aggressively up against her mouth. "Shh!!" She hasn't met Ryan, but she's sure comfortable skipping the niceties. He's gestured at, the palm of her hand swiping down. 'Get low,' she says, without saying. She's still crouched by the house like some kind of Chinese Krampus.
And then the shouting begins. Rachel's not supposed to be here either. "Atlas, go go go." Poor pup. His collar's tugged at, hard.
Crouching down next to Rachel as Ryan nods, patting at his messenger bag for something, he slips his hand inside of it as he asks Rachel, "What do we do? Are they trespassing?"
Marcus(domestic dog) whines reflexively as Rachel tugs his collar, and his tail wags, far more anxiously than happily. He's always been good at commands, but either he doesn't understand 'go' or he is disinclined to leave Rachel's side. Whatever the case, he remains rooted where he is, and he's a hard beast to budge without some serious strength.
There's an explosion of movement from inside the trailer, as the three girls start to grab their bags and run. Of course, they are running for the door: right where everyone is.
If Samara #1, #2, and #3 in the trailer don't get Ryan, Rachel's going to. She'd just told him to 'sh,' and here he is, maybe ruining their cover. It's no help that Marcus(domestic dog) won't move, too. Not that Rachel doesn't try to make him. She tugs and tugs and tugs. "*Atlas*," she loudly whispers at him. What hypocrisy, that she's allowed to raise her voice. Rachel won't leave Marcus(domestic dog) either. Like dog, like owner.
Quieting down, Ryan nods to Rachel as his nose wrinkles up, smelling the sulfur and brimstone as he shakes his head, rifling through his bag quietly as he searches for something. He stays crouched down behind Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog), watching the door.
As the girls run from the front door, behind them the candles are growing, increasing in size as the flames start to rush high. They don't seem to notice, though: instead, the three teens burst out the front door, only to run into Rachel, Marcus(domestic dog) and Ryan. The first one, obviously the leader, stops short, black book in her hand. "What are you doing here??" she demands.
Marcus(domestic dog) has no verbal response, so instead he just barks at the ringleader -- a deep, resonant woof from deep within his gullet.
Well, Marcus(domestic dog) certainly can't answer. Ryan could. But it's Rachel who ultimately speaks up first. "I live... here?" That's a true statement. She could've said that far more convincingly. Perhaps it would have been better to let Marcus(domestic dog)'s response sit alone, after all; his 'speak' trick is absolutely more winsome than hers.
"Out for a jog." Ryan says as he rises up from his crouch, dusting himself off as he motions to the trailer, "Smelled something bad, and uh..." he motions to Rachel, "Was visiting a friend in the area. She lives here...yeah. What are -you- doing here?"
Ringleader girl stares at Rachel. "It's abandoned," she says. "Are you -homeless?-" she asks, her tone dripping with judgment.
Next to her, one of the other girls says in a hushed tone, "We're supposed to say unhoused!"
Somewhere behind them all, the cast of firelight is getting brighter, dancing.
Peeking behind them into the trailer, Ryan asks them, "Hey, that fire should like...totes not be unattended, you guys going to put that out or like...let the whole place burn down?" Ryan asks as he points at it, "Maybe you could toss a bucket on those candles and things? Kinda looking like a fire hazard."
"No, not... HERE here. There here." Rachel removes ambiguity by pointing at the trailer next door, which admittedly also looks abandoned. The grass is overgrown. The stairs bear cracks from years of summer heat. Is that yellow caution tape in the distance, around the side? Saved by Ryan from further mortification.
The ringleader asks Ryan suspiciously, "Then what were you doing creeping around staring in people's windows?"
Marcus(domestic dog) seemed intent upon being rooted to the spot when Rachel wanted him to leave, but -now-, just when it's most inconvenient to do so, he gets up from his great haunches, and begins to walk with a stately determination towards the door of the abandoned trailer, fireglow and all. Once again his tail wags with anxiety, but he doesn't falter in his pace. If not able to be stopped, he will pass the threshold into the ominously firelit trailer.
"Who...me?" Ryan says as he motions to the trailer where the fire is growing, "I smelled some like...methane? You know that kind of stuff happens when a septic tank backs up, my dude. I didn't want you all to have an overflow in your toilet, so I was coming over to let you know? But like...you know, it's okay if you don't want me to be a good neighbor or anything, you'll totes be drowning in unflushed poop by the end of the week if you don't get it fixed, bros."
Rachel now eyes Marcus(domestic dog) with the utmost sternness. While Ryan's getting grilled, it's the opportune moment for him to -- oh goddammit. Nope, there he is, going exactly where he shouldn't. "ATLAS." That's a voice that will brook no obedience. "GET BACK HERE." She jogs the short distance after him, ready to - well, fail to yank him backward. Clearly she's proven she's got the strength of wet cardboard.
Rachel meant disobedience.
Inside the residence, Marcus(domestic dog) can see the remnants of the girls' ritual: a circle, drawn in school chalk, with some symbols a professional symbologist would say are terribly drawn. The candles flickering around the outside of the circle are a potpourri of scents, since they all appear to discount candles from Bath & Body Works. Their flames, though: they flicker, and it seems as if they are almost growing together into the form of a man.
Outside, by contrast, the girls are confronting Rachel and Ryan. "Methane?" the ringleader asks. "GROSS." She declares. "Brit, Jenn, we need to get out of here. These people are extra creeps."
Marcus(domestic dog) whimpers at the disciplinary voice, his wagging tail tucking between his legs. Clearly the sternness has had a profound effect on him. But not profound enough -- he doesn't stop. Even when he's being tugged back, he doesn't stop. Even when he seems like he's moving through molasses, fighting the urge to obey, to be a good boy, he still pads onward, with the saddest, sorriest look over his shoulder that one can imagine. Across the threshold he goes, approaching the figure with the fireglow reflected in his pools of melancholy eyes. He doesn't sit this time, remaining upright and alert, staring at the coalescing man.
Stepping in front of them, Ryan glances up at Marcus(domestic dog) sniffing at the ritual circle, and holds up a hand, "Not without handing over that book you've got, my dude." he says sternly as he holds out his hand to recieve it. "You're dabbling in some shit that can probably get you hurt. Let me see that thing."
Ryan stepped in front of the girls trying to leave, not Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog).
Rachel's still in earshot of Brit, Jenn, and Crabby, Unnamed Teenaged Girl. It would behoove her to turn the ninety degrees to what Marcus(domestic dog) is looking at - but no. Yet again, her senses are not so keen as his. Her focus is on the girls, and on Ryan. "In about five years," she tells them, borrowing from her austerity with Marcus(domestic dog), "You're going to regret not developing better manners." Her attention shifts.
Maybe she'll look into the trailer. Maybe... ah, no. It's Marcus(domestic dog) that has the full weight of her displeasure. "You've never been like this before. Come on. Don't you want fish? I'll get you fish."
"I think they'd actually benefit from reading a few books," Rachel mutters, only loud enough for Ryan to hear.
Ringleader holds the book to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. "No," she says, though her expression has perhaps the faintest hint of fear. Ryan is big and fit, after all, even if he only has the one arm.
"Molly," one of the girls -- Brit? -- says. "This whole thing has me super sketch."
In the bedroom, the flames seem to step out of the candles: they flicker towards the center of the circle, starting to firmly coalesce now into the figure of a man.
Glancing over to the trailer as something is coming out of the candles, Ryan growls at the ringleader, nodding towards the trailer, "You know how to banish that thing? Whatever it is that you made there? Give me the fucking book, bro!" he says with some insistence, drawing up to his full height as his brows tick down in seriousness.
Something must be really transfixing Marcus(domestic dog) inside that trailer, because usually the promise of food would have him bounding back towards Rachel. Usually it wouldn't even take that much -- just a command. But today, he is determined to be a bad dog. Maybe it's the warmth of the growing fire that has him spellbound, but...more likely it's something about the entity that forms from the gathering candlelight. He licks his chops nervously, standing on all fours before the fiery apperition.
From outside of the trailer, the scene on the inside is not visible.
[Amended] Smelling sulfur and brimstone and not seeing what the dog is investigating, Ryan growls at the ringleader, nodding towards the trailer, "Do you know what you're doing with whatever that is? Give me the fucking book, bro!" he says with some insistence, drawing up to his full height as his brows tick down in seriousness.
Finally. FINALLY Rachel is made to see. Ryan's growing infuriation goads her toward investigation. She looks up, right at what Marcus(domestic dog) is fixated on. Now's when she should be booking it, forcing her dog to go with her, like it or not. Instead, she stands there, dumbstruck. Some people fight. Some people flee. She's at some unhappy, purgatorial medium.
"I'm not giving the book!" the girl, Molly, says. "I paid good money for this book!" The spine very clearly has a 'Property of White Oak Library' sticker down at the bottom. "Come on," she says to Brit and Jenn, now walking straight at Ryan in hopes he will step aside.
Inside, Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog) can see the figure, limned in fire, and it seems to smile. "Oh," it says to Marcus(domestic dog). "Hello. Aren't you an interesting thing?" There's a step towards the dog, out of the circle, as if the chalk drawn on the ground doesn't matter. Its words are the crackling of campfires, eerily audible to both Rachel and Marcus(domestic dog). "Such a ... why." Almost amusement on the fire-being's features.
"Hey, here...I'll pay you for it." Ryan says as he gets his wallet, "How much was it? And do your professors know you're out here doing...whatever this is?" Ryan asks as he glances towards the trailer. "I don't want you to get hurt, dudes. You don't know what kind of bad shit could be in that book."
A look between the girls again, and then finally, Molly says to Ryan, "Okay, fine. A hundred bucks." There's some satisfaction from the teenager that a hundred bucks is a 'big score.'
Marcus(domestic dog) smacks his chops nervously again, and edges back from the flaming figure as it approaches, but he doesn't bolt. Other than that reflexive inch he withdraws, he doesn't shy away further. His tail tucks, but he stands his ground. For once, Rachel is not his one and only. For once, he has eyes only for this apparition.
"You shitting me? I'll give you fifty." Ryan says as he shows the girl the butt of a revolver in his messenger bag, "And I suggest you take it." he notes with some concern. "White Oak will be hearing about this...Molly, Brit, and Jenn."
Funny that Ryan's just over there, haggling.
Over here: abject terror. Rachel doesn't scream. That would take movement, and every muscle's frozen into place. She just looks from the ground all... the way... uuuuuup to the top of the figure. In this moment, it might now - had it not been clear to Ryan or Marcus(domestic dog) before - be evident that she's green. Green to Haven, green to the supernatural, and certainly green to whatever the hell this thing is.
When Ryan goes from 'bribery' to 'robbery', there's a shriek from one of the girls: Jenn, probably. Molly drops the book, sheet-white, and Brit, helpfully, screams out, "He's got a gun!"
Inside, the figure seems to step towards Marcus(domestic dog). Flames run along coal-black hands as it bends over, as if leaning down to pet the dog. The smell of sulfur and brimstone is powerful, as it almost entirely ignores Rachel there's just a flitted glance at her, briefly lascivious before its attention is pulled back with interest towards the canine.
Swiping the book and putting his wallet away, Ryan heads for the trailer, walking in as he says, "Okay, let's put these candles ou...what the fuck!?" he exclaims as he sees the figure standing in the trailer, looking to pet Marcus(domestic dog) and Rachel frozen with fear.
Outside, the girls are running: probably, given their reaction, to the cops. There may be a timer ticking from the good ol' HSD.
Perhaps amazingly, Marcus(domestic dog) still doesn't move back, but he does a little uncomfortable bob on his paws that shows that he very much has the natural inclination to do so. His dark pools of eyes gaze up at the figure with that sad expression of his, his doggy brow beetling. There's always been a melancholia in his eyes, but today there's something else in the way he looks at this impossible figure -- either that, or it's just an easy anthropomorphization to fall into: his eyes carry a generous measure of desperation...and pleading.
RachelRyan's yell wakes Rachel up. Her instinct - not to run, but to save Marcus(domestic dog). She's been all kinds of illogical so far: what's one more? "Atlas." She's said his name numerous times. With irritation, with anger, with severity. Now, there's quiet and feigned composure. "Atlas." Her tongue wets her lips.
A candy bar is withdrawn from her pocket, its crinkling enticing. "Look, treat." She takes a step back, in expectation that he'll follow her. The whole time, she's got an eye on the figure.
Ryan's yell wakes Rachel up. Her instinct - not to run, but to save Marcus(domestic dog). She's been all kinds of illogical so far: what's one more? "Atlas." She's said his name numerous times. With irritation, with anger, with severity. Now, there's quiet and feigned composure. "Atlas." Her tongue wets her lips.
A candy bar is withdrawn from her pocket, its crinkling enticing. "Look, treat." She takes a step back, in expectation that he'll follow her. The whole time, she's got an eye on the figure. (fix)
The flame-figure bends over more, starting to pet Marcus(domestic dog)' head as it is entirely focused on the dog.
For those without training in the dark arts, which is everyone, this is a terrifying moment: this -thing- is clearly unearthly, mind-breakingly so, but there is no real context besides myths and stories to ground with. Most of all, it seems focused on the dog, and the trio knows it was summoned with that book, but what else? Well: that's lost to lack of education.
A shiver runs through Marcus(domestic dog)'s big form, resembling a violent chill despite the warmth of the unnatural flames. He doesn't seem to enjoy the petting, or at least he shows no signs of such. His tail remains tucked, his posture remains tense and coiled, and his eyes retain that strange desperation. A little high-pitched whine escapes, but he remains rooted to the spot, ignoring all promises of candy. It's as if he doesn't even hear it. Probably a good thing. Candy is not good for dogs. (Then again, neither are flaming monstrosities, generally speaking.)
"Hey, fiery dude!" Ryan says as he looks at the book, frantically flipping through pages to see if he can see anything that looks like this thing, looking at the marks on the ground and trying desperately to think of any movies he's seen where they've banished something, having not read many books of the sort. "Uh, Klaatu Barada Nikto?" he chants as he quotes the movie Army of Darkness, seeing of those words -actually- do anything, still flipping pages as the he starts to get a nervous shake in his hand, his mechanical prosthetic starting to gain a tick as the fingers tap on the cover of the book he's holding, his mind not able to concentrate on it as he glance up to the thing and then back down, slowly backing away to a wall as he yells, "Rachel, get back from...whatever that thing is!"
The book is not full of helpful instructions, though there is a dog-eared page that concerns the summoning of Samael, Prince of Fire. It's perhaps the right place, but it will take a moment to skim.
Rachel has begun to reflect Marcus(domestic dog)'s distress. She looks to Ryan who's, well, at least trying something. Better than she's managed. "I'm not leaving without Atlas." Who isn't budging. If he wants her to go, he's going to have to do one of two things: summon the anti-Prince of Fire, or the strength to move a two hundred pound Great Dane.
A new tack's taken. Slowly, she reaches into her bag, and emerges with... a switchblade. She's going to fight a demon with a switchblade?
No. It's brandished, right at Marcus(domestic dog)'s eye. "Atlas, GO." The dog probably doesn't understand weaponry, but it's sharp, and it's uncomfortably close. If she can't entreat him to move, maybe, just maybe, she can be threaten him into it.
Clearing his throat as Ryan speaks louder, "Samael, prince of fire!" he starts, claiming the name of the thing he thinks is in front of him, "Dude of...fire and like...coming here from the place of...fire!" he adds, glancing to Rachel for any assistance, "Like what do you want, my dude?" he states as he keeps skimming the book, trying to figure out how to get rid of this thing or bargain with it. "Uh...Look, bro. Molly, Brit, and Jenn summoned you or whatever, so like...is this make a deal or uh...on their behalf or what are you doing here, my man?" he takes a few deep breaths, his heart hammering in his chest as he tries to find the right passage or heading to deal with this thing.
The fire creature looks up from petting Marcus(domestic dog), focused on Ryan. It's hard to know what's going on in its features, but if one can read them, it is unamused. All of the candles are flowing up, flickering like a dozen rivers into the body of the creature. It's now moving away from Marcus(domestic dog) towards Ryan with some hate in its eyes.
Rachel's priority might be her dog, but hey, humans aren't nothing to her. Ryan had asked her for help, and help he'll get. The knife she'd been holding is hurled at the creature. If she had anything in the way of combat training, it might have at least hit point first. Instead, it flies in an awkward arc, on track for its hilt to make contact, unless she's exceptionally lucky.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, my dude! Samael! Go away! Be uh...be banished! By the power invested in me by the state of Massachusetts and The Order, begone!" Ryan scans the book as he moves out of the door, trying to put some distance between himself and the fiery thing, "I, Ryan Harris, renounce you, Samael, Prince of Fire!" he states, trying everything as he keeps moving backwards, trying to dodge whatever is coming at him that may have missed the fiery thing.
The knife is thrown, and it goes through the body of smoke and fire like it was not there, trailing sparks behind it as it sails through the creature's chest. On the far side, though: on the far side it impacts a candle, toppling it, and when it does its flame goes out. Suddenly, the creature is diminished, as one candle flame feeding it disappears.
The thing is on Ryan, now: it reaches for him with a flaming hand, and only barely is Ryan able to dodge it. As it does, the fiery hand comes close, and instead of real physical heat he feels a sudden terror, uncontrolled, rising up, and a difficulty to breathe. It is moving on Ryan again when it realizes Rachel attacked it, and then it turns to stare at her. Hands are thrust out, fingers pointed at both Ryan and Rachel, and then it begins to chant at them in words neither can understand.
Both Ryan and Rachel can feel bonds of occult force closing in on them as fiery hands close into fists, starting to raise each of their bodies into the air to dangle as it is becomes hard to breathe. Only Marcus(domestic dog), so recently petted by the devil, seems unaffected. Perhaps it likes the dog?
[OOC: Marcus(domestic dog) is sorry, he just got back from something he had to do real quick.]
Having seemed frozen to the spot for a while, Marcus(domestic dog) is nonetheless soon unpetrified, and he quickly whips around to stare at the apparition and the two victims. But it's Rachel that he truly watches with alarm, and a low, gruff bark escapes his throat. He starts to edge towards the demon, two steps forward, one step back, but making steady progress. A deep growl resonates within his big chest.
The demon, for his part, appears to be entirely ignoring Marcus(domestic dog) he's focused on Rachel and Ryan, now, floating in the air. Even if the loss of one of the dozen or so candles has diminished him, it doesn't seem to affect his power: instead, a wide slash of a mouth of growing louder as he slowly closes each fist.
Everyone likes the dog. He's a good boy. "Candle," Rachel croaks. She wants Marcus(domestic dog) to help, presumably. But human language is, perhaps, even beyond the best of the good boys. Both Ryan and Rachel are going to be hard-pressed to do anything themselves. Her dangling feet kick. Her face is purpling, the whites of her eyes tinged red, too. Moisture collects at her lash line. Tears.
After one last aggressive bark, Marcus(domestic dog) is unleashed. He doesn't bolt forward towards the demon, but begins to run around as if he has the zoomies. But these are zoomies with purpose. He's bolting towards candles -- but knocking them over doesn't seem to be his goal, thankfully, since that might start an even bigger fire. No, the dog has a different plan -- to snuff each of the candles out, clamping down on each wick with his big slobbery jaws, one after another. There's a little sizzle each time, and sometimes there's even a whimper that indicates that the canine is not entirely free of pain from this ordeal.
a rasping gasp that would be a scream if he had breath, Ryan hangs in the air as he flails about jabbing a hand in his pocket to get his phone, taking deep, wheezing breaths as his eyes start to fuzz around the edges and struggling to breathe though the pain, Ryan attempts to hit a button on the home screen to alert The Order that he's in danger, trying to ping an emergency for them to find him as he croaks out, "Bar-gain!"
There's a snap and a sizzle as the first candle goes down, and the devil doesn't seem to notice it. Then a second, then a third, and now, diminished, the creature is starting to turn, slowly, to stare at Marcus(domestic dog). It's still holding Rachel and Ryan sorcery-tight with those fists, as it looks at Marcus(domestic dog) with an expression that's almost shocked.
Each moment hung in the balance is another that Rachel and Ryan get closer to asphyxiation. Maybe the latter can secure help, but by the looks of it, unless they can teleport, she's going to pass out long before anyone can be of assistance. Her hands grapple against the demon's hold, but find no purchase - and slowly, those movements, too, become more feeble. It's truly down to Marcus(domestic dog).
Marcus(domestic dog) is big, as everyone knows. Thus in his frantic efforts to snuff out the candles, he knocks things over. In this he of course causes even more of a fire hazard, but the Great Dane is determined to save the demon's hostages, and so he races from candle to candle, swallowing the fire of each, singing his tongue until each is snuffed out. Each time, his whines get a little more plaintive, but he doesn't slow down, his intent fixed on putting out every single one of the candles, by hook or by crook.
One, two, three... As the candles go down, the demon begins to become smaller and smaller, until, as the last one goes out, he is just an angry red spark. When Marcus(domestic dog) clamps his jaws on the last flame, the connection linking the entity to this realm is gone completely, and then Rachel and Ryan can sag, collapsing onto the ground as the arcane power keeping them held prisoner is released. The smell of sulfur lingers still in the air, but it is dissipating, as if washed away by some wind.
Gasping and rasping for air as he hits the ground, the book topples from Ryan's grasp as he hacks and coughs. "Good, job...Atlas." Ryan says as he looks up, blinking through some tears of pain as his mind comes back from almost asphyxiation, "Definitely gonna...talk to their teacher."
Shrinking low, Marcus(domestic dog) whines, and this one is rather pitiful. He smacks his jaws, trying to get some sensation back in his numb tongue. But it's Rachel he watches, daring to start to approach, his sad eyes bearing a familiar human expression -- loss and resignation. Still, the dog's concern for Rachel is just as evident, and he keeps himself low as if in penance for what he's done, for the bad boy he's been.
Rachel falls, hard. There's the sound of thudding, dull impact and - now that her airway's unblocked, gasping breath. She's much slower to get up than Ryan. It takes an uncomfortable minute for her to so much as indicate that she's going to get up. A turn, onto her side. At least it's obvious that she is, in fact, still alive. Poor Marcus(domestic dog) - at least he has Ryan's commendation.
In the distance, sirens start to rise. Presumably one teenage girl or another has reported that a one-armed man with a gun was threatening them at Westhaven.
Marcus(domestic dog) quickly rushes to Rachel's side once she falls, and even despite his singed tongue begins to lick his master's hand, nosing his muzzle into her palm. He can't talk, but his meaning is more than evident. He's sorry. He's so sorry. Please be okay.
Crawling over to Rachel, Ryan says, "Hey...dude. We gotta go. Cops are here." Ryan notes as he tries to help her up and scuffle off to her trailer with her.
Taking the book with him, Ryan shoves it into his messenger bag, reaching out to Marcus(domestic dog) to see if he can help pull Rachel out of the trailer.
Rachel registers Ryan and, at being provided help, grasps at his forearm. She pulls herself to her knees, first, and then stands. Marcus(domestic dog) is still there, awaiting recognition. A hissing sound emerges from her throat. She might have meant to call him to her. She'll go. It's just going to be slow. Especially if she has to try, just as hard as at the beginning, to win Marcus(domestic dog)'s obedience.
Marcus(domestic dog) gets the idea, clamping down on Rachel's shirt and trying to help urge her along. He doesn't fight this time. He's ready to go home.
And the demon might have gotten away with it too, if not for those meddling kids and their dog. Away they hobble, the unlikely trio of Marcus(domestic dog), Ryan, and Rachel, distancing themselves from the sirens.