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Autumns Ghost Banishing 240628
The scene unfolds on a haunting night at Arkwright Cemetery, where Autumn, Meridith, and Harriet confront three specters, amalgamations of ballroom elegance and pirate brutality, risen amongst the gravestones. Autumn, experienced and resolved, braces for the skirmish, while Meridith offers a mix of support and skepticism towards the efforts at hand. Harriet, buoyed by an inexplicable joy amidst the creepy ambiance, reaches for her bag of Celtic sea salt, crafting a protective circle around herself, a defense based on lore and a dash of hopeful magic. The ghostly trio advances, their intentions as murky as their forms, wielding ancient weaponry made spectral. Autumn, with a hint of frustration familiar to their recurring battles, prepares her own magic, a mystical counter to the physical threats posed by the spirits.
The confrontation escalates quickly; the ghosts' relentless attacks force the group to adopt both physical and mystical defenses. Meridith and Harriet contribute with salt, the former attempting to disrupt the spirits' forms while the latter cites incantations with the flair of the unconvinced yet hopeful. Autumn centers the countercharge, absorbing a strike only to channel her pain into a focused magical assault, hinting at a depth of power guided by emotion and desperation. The spectral assailants' aggression proves relentless, met with a blend of sarcasm and strategy from the living adversaries. Amidst Latin chants and eye-rolling references to pop culture exorcisms, the trio synergizes their efforts against the spectral menace. Determination, sprinkled with skepticism and camaraderie, defines their stand against an otherworldly oppression, culminating in the spirits' bewilderingly orchestrated disappearance, a momentary victory in an apparently unending cycle of confrontation and banishment at Arkwright Cemetery.
(Autumn's ghost banishing)
[Thu Jun 27 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 83F(28C) degrees, There is a last quarter moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
Autumn says "Here we go again."
Meridith shakes her head at Autumn a look of disappointment on her face. She turns her eyes to the spirits, watching them with a distant disinterest.
Harriet cannot help but to smile suddenly. It's not just a smile -- it's an entire mood. This mood has taken a sudden upswing, and the frown that fear that was gracing her facial features just a moment before is suddenly gone. She makes the faintest little giggle, and then exhales out a happy sort of a sigh. "Let us do this," she says, slender hands meeting palm to palm and then rubbing briskly together as she gives a nod to Meridith and Autumn.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Meridith nods gently to Harriet. She knows, no doubt, but perhaps there's ease. To bring a smile to someones face isn't a bad thing. When it isn't such a sensitive wound. She watches as the spirits move to coral them, stepping lightly. "What this time you jerk."
As a small smile creeps up her face, Autumn lifts her left hand out towards the ghostly trio and focus her energy. While the spirits circle around them, she takes a moment to find nearby cover as she chants under her breath.
Harriet glances about as the spirits move in. She seems at ease now, content and confident, even if normally she has no idea whatsoever what to do with these specters and tends to throw Celtic sea salt at them in all of its grey, somewhat sticky glory. And what do you know? The tall brunette has that bag of salt which she retrieves from her handbag and begins to create a protection circle around herself with the granules that are unprocessed.
Meridith takes a deep breath and clasps her hands together. She focuses outward, hand lifting from the joined one, swirling maelstrom of salt sent in a wave against one spirit, temporarily disrupting its form. But, yet a drop in the bucket. Still, it's the effort meant to buy Autumn the time she needs to work.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Autumn, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Whether or not the salt barrier acts as a barrier to protect Harriet is up for debate, but since this method is used each and every time by the Warden, she must think it does something. Then she feels the need to explain, "This method is rooted in ancient and medieval lore where circles were believed to protect from witches and demons back home," with a further quirk of upturned lip corners at the mention of demons. "And ghosts..." Then she says, "I do believe there is something about iron and silver in British folklore... I should really look into that." As Meridith is also now using salt, she looks quite pleased with the situation at hand. "Oh, and Rowan trees," gets stated. "Perhaps one day I shall study this." She watches as Autumn gets attacked, and so she throws a handful of salt at that woman's way.
Meridith is there in a hasty step trying to protect Autumn from a ghost strike a slash of her hand in a knifelike gesture. She exhales harshly and gazes over at Harriet. "Ma'am. I have heard it. These ghosts have heard it, and I am sure Autumn has heard it, who are you describing this to?" She asks politely.
With low chants, Autumn's hand bracelet begins to sparkle as the runes glow red-orange. But the wielder of knives strikes her from behind, causing the woman to grit her teeth in pain before she retaliates by sending the warm energy at her assailant. "How are they still around after all these banishings?" Autumn mutters before she attempts to channel her mancing again.
Meridith shrugs. "My theory remains that they are fueled by the Eidolon who keeps them returning time and time again."
Standing within that circle of Celtic sea salt now carefully laid out around her, Harriet effectively remains there where she has set a supposed boundary of protection. "I am simply fascinated by it," she tells Meridith. Inside her maybe secure perimeter, the tall brunette proceeds with that confidence in traditional safeguarding that she has established. Gently and mostly under her breath, she's invoking some sort of chant in Latin. A nod is given to Meridith about Autumn's question. "Yes..." is all she says to confirm Meridith's theory.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Autumn, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Meridith nods to Harriet. "Well, nothing wrong with having passions," she allows her. Then shifting some safety, glancing at Autumn is pickpocketed, she offers out a quiet whistle.
Harriet knows very little about ghosts, but she does speak a few different languages and has managed to learn a few chants in regards to ancient rites. She continues to repeat the words with conviction, quiet as it may be. Her lips move and product the faint sounds of each Latin word, closing her eyes and focusing on what she's saying. Head nodding Meridith's way, she keeps her eyelids lowered.
"Again, they target me!" Autumn purses her lips as her eyes narrow in a look of anger. When the cutlass-wielder and flintlock lady attack her, she lashes out with clenched fists, her chest bouncing a bit as she seethes. The magical glow from her bracelet pulses with heat while she strikes back at the ghosts.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Meridith picks up what she can of Harriet's chanting. And blinks. "Wait are you...oh few. I was worried you were repeating that bit about the salt..." She bellows. "Down!" She drops low.
Harriet stands resolutely within the circle of Celtic sea salt, and her expression is one of deep concentration. As she utters the Latin phrases of the ancient chant she's memorised, her voice, although still soft, carries the weight of her earnest intent through the evening air of the haunted locale. Each syllable is pronounced with precision, like in a quiet power underlying her otherwise currently calm demeanor. As Meridith makes the command, she also falls to the ground, letting the spectral bullets shoot overhead, hoping Autumn manages to make it down low enough in time, too.
Panting, Autumn notices the bullets and gets down behind a gravestone. "Damn ghosts," she grunts before she starts chanting again.
Meridith lets out a little laugh. "Yeah, they do like their semi automatic blunderbusses." She lets out a gentle weary sigh and waits for the storm to pass. She nods at Harriet. "If you ever actually learned magic you'd be pretty good at it."
The three spirits surround Autumn, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Damn ghosts, indeed. As Autumn goes to take cover behind a tombstone, Harriet is still on the grass, spread out on her front to avoid the attack. Now she's semi outside of her protective circle, and as each shot dissipates after flying through the air and unable to hit any of the three women at the moment, she crawls back into the sanctified perimeter had had previously created. Her own chanting intensifies now, and her voice rises slightly in pitch to match the increasing urgency she's feeling about the situation at hand. Additional layers get used in her incantations, trying to recall deeper and more powerful verses to try and reinforce the defenses... but... she really has no idea what she is doing and does not have much of anything magical when it comes to herself. She glances over at Meridith. "I'm not very magical."
Autumn lashes out one more as the spirits start to jump her. While she strikes, her magic spills from the bracelet, the red-orange glow on her hand beginning to surround the spirit trio.
Harriet begins to command with authority -- although she really doesn't possess any when it comes to ghosts. Not arcane-wise, at least. "Recedite, spiritus maligni!" she calls out at the ghosts. "Hoc loco, vos non estis dominari!" During this supernatural standoff, the Warden moves to stand back up, unyielding... until there are more bullets, of course. Her determination is quite obvious, hoping the pirates will have a waning resolve. There she is, standing in the circle of salt like it is a bastion as well as a beacon.
Meridith smiles at Harriet. "I think you're plenty magical," she assures Harriet. "Just, not the kind you need." She manages to climb to her feet slowly. Then blinks as she throws out her latin. "Boy, that would just be incredible if it meant anything."
Harriet glances over at Meridith again, arching up her left eyebrow some. "Why does everyone say that?" she asks about people claiming she is 'magical.' "Also, it most certainly means something," is said to Meridith. "Depart, malicious spirits! You shall not dominate this place!" the brunette shouts out in English what she had spoken in Latin.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Harriet knew it was one of those...
Meridith waves a hand gently. "I'm being generically complimentary," she informs Harriet. "About time for this finale, no?" She gazes at Autumn. "Almost ready?"
Still continuing with her incantations, Harriet's Latin phrases flow more fluidly as the confrontation of spirits progresses. Her stance remains firm as she stands her ground within the circle of salt. She lifts slender hands slightly as if physically pushing against the spectral forces. "Ego vos exorcizo, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei," is said, and she probably stole that one from a movie, because she certainly is not a religious person whatsoever. Even she pulls a face a bit after having spoken those words. She looks between Meridith and Autumn.
"Anything to be rid of these spirits," Autumn replies with a huff, channeling her magic as she focuses on the now surrounding spirits.
Meridith taps her chin. "I think I heard that in the show Supernatural," she comments to Harriet. Watching her engage in...perhaps some spiritual battle? She's dubious however.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.
The confrontation escalates quickly; the ghosts' relentless attacks force the group to adopt both physical and mystical defenses. Meridith and Harriet contribute with salt, the former attempting to disrupt the spirits' forms while the latter cites incantations with the flair of the unconvinced yet hopeful. Autumn centers the countercharge, absorbing a strike only to channel her pain into a focused magical assault, hinting at a depth of power guided by emotion and desperation. The spectral assailants' aggression proves relentless, met with a blend of sarcasm and strategy from the living adversaries. Amidst Latin chants and eye-rolling references to pop culture exorcisms, the trio synergizes their efforts against the spectral menace. Determination, sprinkled with skepticism and camaraderie, defines their stand against an otherworldly oppression, culminating in the spirits' bewilderingly orchestrated disappearance, a momentary victory in an apparently unending cycle of confrontation and banishment at Arkwright Cemetery.
(Autumn's ghost banishing)
[Thu Jun 27 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 83F(28C) degrees, There is a last quarter moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
Autumn says "Here we go again."
Meridith shakes her head at Autumn a look of disappointment on her face. She turns her eyes to the spirits, watching them with a distant disinterest.
Harriet cannot help but to smile suddenly. It's not just a smile -- it's an entire mood. This mood has taken a sudden upswing, and the frown that fear that was gracing her facial features just a moment before is suddenly gone. She makes the faintest little giggle, and then exhales out a happy sort of a sigh. "Let us do this," she says, slender hands meeting palm to palm and then rubbing briskly together as she gives a nod to Meridith and Autumn.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Meridith nods gently to Harriet. She knows, no doubt, but perhaps there's ease. To bring a smile to someones face isn't a bad thing. When it isn't such a sensitive wound. She watches as the spirits move to coral them, stepping lightly. "What this time you jerk."
As a small smile creeps up her face, Autumn lifts her left hand out towards the ghostly trio and focus her energy. While the spirits circle around them, she takes a moment to find nearby cover as she chants under her breath.
Harriet glances about as the spirits move in. She seems at ease now, content and confident, even if normally she has no idea whatsoever what to do with these specters and tends to throw Celtic sea salt at them in all of its grey, somewhat sticky glory. And what do you know? The tall brunette has that bag of salt which she retrieves from her handbag and begins to create a protection circle around herself with the granules that are unprocessed.
Meridith takes a deep breath and clasps her hands together. She focuses outward, hand lifting from the joined one, swirling maelstrom of salt sent in a wave against one spirit, temporarily disrupting its form. But, yet a drop in the bucket. Still, it's the effort meant to buy Autumn the time she needs to work.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Autumn, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Whether or not the salt barrier acts as a barrier to protect Harriet is up for debate, but since this method is used each and every time by the Warden, she must think it does something. Then she feels the need to explain, "This method is rooted in ancient and medieval lore where circles were believed to protect from witches and demons back home," with a further quirk of upturned lip corners at the mention of demons. "And ghosts..." Then she says, "I do believe there is something about iron and silver in British folklore... I should really look into that." As Meridith is also now using salt, she looks quite pleased with the situation at hand. "Oh, and Rowan trees," gets stated. "Perhaps one day I shall study this." She watches as Autumn gets attacked, and so she throws a handful of salt at that woman's way.
Meridith is there in a hasty step trying to protect Autumn from a ghost strike a slash of her hand in a knifelike gesture. She exhales harshly and gazes over at Harriet. "Ma'am. I have heard it. These ghosts have heard it, and I am sure Autumn has heard it, who are you describing this to?" She asks politely.
With low chants, Autumn's hand bracelet begins to sparkle as the runes glow red-orange. But the wielder of knives strikes her from behind, causing the woman to grit her teeth in pain before she retaliates by sending the warm energy at her assailant. "How are they still around after all these banishings?" Autumn mutters before she attempts to channel her mancing again.
Meridith shrugs. "My theory remains that they are fueled by the Eidolon who keeps them returning time and time again."
Standing within that circle of Celtic sea salt now carefully laid out around her, Harriet effectively remains there where she has set a supposed boundary of protection. "I am simply fascinated by it," she tells Meridith. Inside her maybe secure perimeter, the tall brunette proceeds with that confidence in traditional safeguarding that she has established. Gently and mostly under her breath, she's invoking some sort of chant in Latin. A nod is given to Meridith about Autumn's question. "Yes..." is all she says to confirm Meridith's theory.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Autumn, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Meridith nods to Harriet. "Well, nothing wrong with having passions," she allows her. Then shifting some safety, glancing at Autumn is pickpocketed, she offers out a quiet whistle.
Harriet knows very little about ghosts, but she does speak a few different languages and has managed to learn a few chants in regards to ancient rites. She continues to repeat the words with conviction, quiet as it may be. Her lips move and product the faint sounds of each Latin word, closing her eyes and focusing on what she's saying. Head nodding Meridith's way, she keeps her eyelids lowered.
"Again, they target me!" Autumn purses her lips as her eyes narrow in a look of anger. When the cutlass-wielder and flintlock lady attack her, she lashes out with clenched fists, her chest bouncing a bit as she seethes. The magical glow from her bracelet pulses with heat while she strikes back at the ghosts.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
Meridith picks up what she can of Harriet's chanting. And blinks. "Wait are you...oh few. I was worried you were repeating that bit about the salt..." She bellows. "Down!" She drops low.
Harriet stands resolutely within the circle of Celtic sea salt, and her expression is one of deep concentration. As she utters the Latin phrases of the ancient chant she's memorised, her voice, although still soft, carries the weight of her earnest intent through the evening air of the haunted locale. Each syllable is pronounced with precision, like in a quiet power underlying her otherwise currently calm demeanor. As Meridith makes the command, she also falls to the ground, letting the spectral bullets shoot overhead, hoping Autumn manages to make it down low enough in time, too.
Panting, Autumn notices the bullets and gets down behind a gravestone. "Damn ghosts," she grunts before she starts chanting again.
Meridith lets out a little laugh. "Yeah, they do like their semi automatic blunderbusses." She lets out a gentle weary sigh and waits for the storm to pass. She nods at Harriet. "If you ever actually learned magic you'd be pretty good at it."
The three spirits surround Autumn, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Damn ghosts, indeed. As Autumn goes to take cover behind a tombstone, Harriet is still on the grass, spread out on her front to avoid the attack. Now she's semi outside of her protective circle, and as each shot dissipates after flying through the air and unable to hit any of the three women at the moment, she crawls back into the sanctified perimeter had had previously created. Her own chanting intensifies now, and her voice rises slightly in pitch to match the increasing urgency she's feeling about the situation at hand. Additional layers get used in her incantations, trying to recall deeper and more powerful verses to try and reinforce the defenses... but... she really has no idea what she is doing and does not have much of anything magical when it comes to herself. She glances over at Meridith. "I'm not very magical."
Autumn lashes out one more as the spirits start to jump her. While she strikes, her magic spills from the bracelet, the red-orange glow on her hand beginning to surround the spirit trio.
Harriet begins to command with authority -- although she really doesn't possess any when it comes to ghosts. Not arcane-wise, at least. "Recedite, spiritus maligni!" she calls out at the ghosts. "Hoc loco, vos non estis dominari!" During this supernatural standoff, the Warden moves to stand back up, unyielding... until there are more bullets, of course. Her determination is quite obvious, hoping the pirates will have a waning resolve. There she is, standing in the circle of salt like it is a bastion as well as a beacon.
Meridith smiles at Harriet. "I think you're plenty magical," she assures Harriet. "Just, not the kind you need." She manages to climb to her feet slowly. Then blinks as she throws out her latin. "Boy, that would just be incredible if it meant anything."
Harriet glances over at Meridith again, arching up her left eyebrow some. "Why does everyone say that?" she asks about people claiming she is 'magical.' "Also, it most certainly means something," is said to Meridith. "Depart, malicious spirits! You shall not dominate this place!" the brunette shouts out in English what she had spoken in Latin.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Harriet knew it was one of those...
Meridith waves a hand gently. "I'm being generically complimentary," she informs Harriet. "About time for this finale, no?" She gazes at Autumn. "Almost ready?"
Still continuing with her incantations, Harriet's Latin phrases flow more fluidly as the confrontation of spirits progresses. Her stance remains firm as she stands her ground within the circle of salt. She lifts slender hands slightly as if physically pushing against the spectral forces. "Ego vos exorcizo, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei," is said, and she probably stole that one from a movie, because she certainly is not a religious person whatsoever. Even she pulls a face a bit after having spoken those words. She looks between Meridith and Autumn.
"Anything to be rid of these spirits," Autumn replies with a huff, channeling her magic as she focuses on the now surrounding spirits.
Meridith taps her chin. "I think I heard that in the show Supernatural," she comments to Harriet. Watching her engage in...perhaps some spiritual battle? She's dubious however.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.