Patrollogs
(A battle in the Nightmare)
[Wed Jan 22 2025]
In the Parking Lot of the Elm Street Apartment Complex
It is after dusk, about 24F(-4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
Sam says "Oh, let's go, then."
Lark says "Hello. "
Trevor says "Hello. "
Sam stretches a little, grinning to himself. "Oh, hey Lark, Liam." He sighs. "This is gonna be rough, innit?"
Trevor grunts a little bit, "Alright," he says carefully. "Who's doing what here?"
Lark says "How do we know who our targets are?"
Rashid says, via phone, "It's on the other side."
Sam says "Well, I'll be real. I'm the only one here."
Rashid says, via phone, "For now."
Euphemia looks a little tired... sickly. Her eyes glassy with a distant haze. She draws her sword with a flourish, sliding a finger along the tip of her blade until the silver sparks ablaze. To Castiel, she murmurs: "You cover Rashid, I take Lark?"
Sam chuckles wryly, and cracks his shoulders. "Oh, Rashid too. Well, that settles it." He pauses. "For now. Can't wait for the shuffle to fix this wonky distribution." he pauses. "But don't mean I will not fight." Another chuckle. "Oh, hey Vic!"
"Anyone not here with us, right now, is an enemy." Castiel tells Lark, simple as, while his sword is drawn up. The flat of the chipped blade is set within his palm, to be then pulled through his grasp, where fire touches the metal and leaves it aflame. An illuminating ray within the expanse of the darkness. "This is acceptable," Castiel's words are for Euphemia this time - but there is a keen, molten stare along with it. Narrow upon her, inspecting.
Sam says "Oh, son of a fucking..."
Lark nods to Castiel and Euphemia.
Euphemia glided into position behind Lark with a kind of poetic divinity, her porcelain musculature shifting beneath scars that danced like quiet constellations across her skin. Every subtle motion seemed infused with purpose as she drew her bow, the string pulling taut without a sound. She hovered protectively at Lark's shoulder, a silent sentinel, her arrow nocked but not yet released. In that hushed moment, her wintry blue eyes settled on Sam, unwavering in their vigilance, poised to strike the instant fate demanded it.
Sam says "Well... "
Sam just seems to brace himself, lifting his kris knife. "COME ON THEN!"
Lark says "Oops, I'll come back!"
Rashid says, via phone, "Someone interrupted my tea. I am displeased."
Lark nods.
Trevor just starts fucking sending it, he's wasting no time in this battle. Just charging Sam, rifle drawn, but then he just decides to drop down, flat to his stomach, where he sets his rifle up.
Staying on the defensive, Sam answers Rashid's comment with a blast of magic. He winces as arrows start to rain down.
Euphemia says, calling out, "Say something cool, Castiel!"
"A good trick for those who do not remember their placement in battle," Rashid growls, stumbling forward, slashing his scimitar in front of him warily.
Trevor says "Something cool!"
With a soft chuckle, Sam stabs forward at Castiel, and just lets out a short breath. "At least I didn't fucking run, eh?"
Quiet, almost. Castiel simply glides in the backdrop of the whole band chasing after Sam - staying in proximity to someone initially -- until he's not. Castiel waves a hand towards the man, the very air wrapped up by something thick, like the unseen hand of God has stilled Sam's charge. Then, in what must be a blink, Castiel appears, right in his face, blade drawn.
Quiet, almost. Castiel simply glides in the backdrop of the whole band chasing after Sam - staying in proximity to Rashid initially -- until he's not. Castiel waves a hand towards the man, the very air wrapped up by something thick, like the unseen hand of God has stilled Sam's charge. Then, in what must be a blink, Castiel appears, right in his face, blade drawn.
Sam fades out of the nightmare.
A Battle In The Nightmare 250123
(A battle in the Nightmare)
[Wed Jan 22 2025]
In the Parking Lot of the Elm Street Apartment Complex
It is after dusk, about 24F(-4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waning crescent moon.
Sam says "Oh, let's go, then."
Lark says "Hello. "
Trevor says "Hello. "
Sam stretches a little, grinning to himself. "Oh, hey Lark, Liam." He sighs. "This is gonna be rough, innit?"
Trevor grunts a little bit, "Alright," he says carefully. "Who's doing what here?"
Lark says "How do we know who our targets are?"
Rashid says, via phone, "It's on the other side."
Sam says "Well, I'll be real. I'm the only one here."
Rashid says, via phone, "For now."
Euphemia looks a little tired... sickly. Her eyes glassy with a distant haze. She draws her sword with a flourish, sliding a finger along the tip of her blade until the silver sparks ablaze. To Castiel, she murmurs: "You cover Rashid, I take Lark?"
Sam chuckles wryly, and cracks his shoulders. "Oh, Rashid too. Well, that settles it." He pauses. "For now. Can't wait for the shuffle to fix this wonky distribution." he pauses. "But don't mean I will not fight." Another chuckle. "Oh, hey Vic!"
"Anyone not here with us, right now, is an enemy." Castiel tells Lark, simple as, while his sword is drawn up. The flat of the chipped blade is set within his palm, to be then pulled through his grasp, where fire touches the metal and leaves it aflame. An illuminating ray within the expanse of the darkness. "This is acceptable," Castiel's words are for Euphemia this time - but there is a keen, molten stare along with it. Narrow upon her, inspecting.
Sam says "Oh, son of a fucking..."
Lark nods to Castiel and Euphemia.
Euphemia glided into position behind Lark with a kind of poetic divinity, her porcelain musculature shifting beneath scars that danced like quiet constellations across her skin. Every subtle motion seemed infused with purpose as she drew her bow, the string pulling taut without a sound. She hovered protectively at Lark's shoulder, a silent sentinel, her arrow nocked but not yet released. In that hushed moment, her wintry blue eyes settled on Sam, unwavering in their vigilance, poised to strike the instant fate demanded it.
Sam says "Well... "
Sam just seems to brace himself, lifting his kris knife. "COME ON THEN!"
Lark says "Oops, I'll come back!"
Rashid says, via phone, "Someone interrupted my tea. I am displeased."
Lark nods.
Trevor just starts fucking sending it, he's wasting no time in this battle. Just charging Sam, rifle drawn, but then he just decides to drop down, flat to his stomach, where he sets his rifle up.
Staying on the defensive, Sam answers Rashid's comment with a blast of magic. He winces as arrows start to rain down.
Euphemia says, calling out, "Say something cool, Castiel!"
"A good trick for those who do not remember their placement in battle," Rashid growls, stumbling forward, slashing his scimitar in front of him warily.
Trevor says "Something cool!"
With a soft chuckle, Sam stabs forward at Castiel, and just lets out a short breath. "At least I didn't fucking run, eh?"
Quiet, almost. Castiel simply glides in the backdrop of the whole band chasing after Sam - staying in proximity to someone initially -- until he's not. Castiel waves a hand towards the man, the very air wrapped up by something thick, like the unseen hand of God has stilled Sam's charge. Then, in what must be a blink, Castiel appears, right in his face, blade drawn.
Quiet, almost. Castiel simply glides in the backdrop of the whole band chasing after Sam - staying in proximity to Rashid initially -- until he's not. Castiel waves a hand towards the man, the very air wrapped up by something thick, like the unseen hand of God has stilled Sam's charge. Then, in what must be a blink, Castiel appears, right in his face, blade drawn.
Sam fades out of the nightmare.