Patrollogs
(Crystal's decursing attempt)
[Wed Oct 23 2024]
In a warm, spacious living room
Wooden floors and walls painted a soothing, yellow-tinged offwhite cast this living room in a warm glow, spacious and wide, and kept remarkably clean, with the wood below bearing a slightly glossy sheen, and no stains to speak of to mark the surroundings. The decoration is tasteful, a plush, pale green carpet centers the room, a couch and a couple of armchairs set upon it for a small space for conversation closer to the eastern end of the room, just by the entrance to the hallway beyond. Southward, a long counter stretches, separating the living room from the kitchen, the white marble top similarly clean.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Crystal steps back after opening the door, a knife held in one hand, the other motioning him in. She looks pretty underdressed, but this is her domain, so to speak. Hair disheveled, she stares at Berlin as unenthusiastically as ever, though no offense is intended. Berlin should know by now that that's just Crystal being herself. "Where is it?" she asks, scanning his form.
Berlin enters, giving Crystal a warm, dimpled smile, despite the hand he is holding rather conspicuously in the air. A gold bracelet is wrapped around the wrist, seemingly doing its best serpent impersonation and trying to strangle the limb. His fingers are already turning a slightly bad shade of blue. "Hey Crystal," he says, his voice a little tight with pain, "Thanks for helping me out."
Crystal nods her head slowly, then gestures for him to seat himself somewhere, keeping her gaze locked on that bracelet once it becomes clear that's the culprit. "Have a seat," comes a low suggestion from her. "On the floor, I think," she tacks on, moving over to seat herself on the coffee table. "This is pretty last minute," she half admits, more complains, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "We can do this though."
"Sorry," Berlin apologizes, settling himself down on the floor beside the coffee table, his fingers flexing as he does his best to maintain his circulation. "I didn't think it would be cursed. I went to get a drink, and when it arrived, it was on the base of the stem. I'd touched it before I'd even realized what it was."
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
As it isn't Crystal's first decursing, she reaches for her face, fingers playing over her first nostril, removing the metallic stud. "Hurts, doesn't it," she remarks dryly after she picks up the rapid transition of expressions turning over Berlin's features. "Where'd you find it?" she asks once the man has seated himself on the ground before her. It's almost like the coffee table is a throne as he lowers himself down on the floor. She runs a hand over the point of her knee, tapping her fingers over it in consideration, flicking her knife along the inside of her bared thigh with her other hand. "Last minute. We'll probably have to use blood." She stares at her knife, then at Berlin to indicate that it's probably his that will be the sacrificial offering tonight. "We probably don't need too much. Considering w-" Then she winces and reaches up for her ears.
Berlin gives another wince, his free hand going to his ear for a moment. He works his jaw, opening and closing it to stabilize the pressure in his ears. He can't, for a moment, hear what Crystal is saying, but it isn't his first rodio either, and she probably isn't the first magical woman to take his blood. His hand lowers from his ear, palm out, extending to rest gently in Crystal's lap. It takes the place where, just a couple days earlier and on a different form of throne, his other hand was caressing. There's still a look of pain on his face, from the ear popping and the boa constrictor bracelet, but the man is still a man, and Crystal is still gorgeous and the object of his fascination. His fingertips brush, just once, over that triangle of fabric which covers her sex from view, if only barely.
For several seconds the room grows painfully hot.
Crystal clicks her tongue in irritation at the bold way Berlin takes liberties with her, and as if to reprimand him she quickly takes his hand by the wrist and angles the sharp point of her knife down along his wrist. "You really can't help it, can you?" she mouthes, but unless Berlin was adept at lip reading or even watching her lips work those syllables out, he'd probably not comprehend what she was saying.
Not like it matters. She has his hand and with a steely grip at the wrist, takes what she needs. "Down the road, not across the street," she murmurs that infamous idiom, but in this case it's how to best draw blood. She has to work the sleeve of his coat from his arm first with that knife, which is easily done. The knife slices across the man's skin, producing a sting and a satisfying bloodlet down his arms and on the pristine floor. "Bracelet," she further instructs.
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Berlin nods, noting that look of irritation and setting his jaw, his mask of gentlemanly behavior settling into place once more. He gives yet another wince, this time in response to the kiss of the blade, but he gives no protest. sweat trickles in small rivulets down his temples, an angry swipe of the back of an arm ridding him of the annoyance before he offers the steadily bluing hand. slowly his hearing returns, the tinitis whine fading slowly, the bracelet giving another twist to tighten further on his wrist
Brian walks up behind Crystal and leans over to plant a kiss on her head. He nods at Berlin, then heads into the kitchen.
Perspiration starts to dot along Crystal's brow as the room because unnaturally hot, the cursed artifact reacting violently to the blood offering, voicing its own protest. It seems to be working, as the foul influence attempts to throw them off their game by pressurizing the air around them. It hardly phases her this time around, only mildly annoying her as her brow furrows. She angles Berlin's bleeding arm right over the other, heedless of how bloodied she'll get his fancy coat or the flooring she just swept the night before. She shifts some of her attention towards someone, but as he moves into the kitchen she focuses on the task on hand.
Once again, whatever she says is drowned out by the pressure building. She slides down from the coffee table, settling down on her knees before Berlin. She stares into his eyes, trying to gauge how he's doing while his life essence flows freely onto the bracelet, among other things.
Perspiration starts to dot along Crystal's brow as the room because unnaturally hot, the cursed artifact reacting violently to the blood offering, voicing its own protest. It seems to be working, as the foul influence attempts to throw them off their game by pressurizing the air around them. It hardly phases her this time around, only mildly annoying her as her brow furrows. She angles Berlin's bleeding arm right over the other, heedless of how bloodied she'll get his fancy coat or the flooring she just swept the night before. She shifts some of her attention towards Brian, but as he moves into the kitchen she focuses on the task on hand.
Once again, whatever she says is drowned out by the pressure building. She slides down from the coffee table, settling down on her knees before Berlin. She stares into his eyes, trying to gauge how he's doing while his life essence flows freely onto the bracelet, among other things.
Brian leans against the wall to observe while he eats dinner.
The artifact emits a flash of blinding light.
fortunately for Berlin's laundry bill, his coat is waterproof and finely waxed. It repels blood as easily as it repels the rain outside. He adjusts the position of his constricted arm, letting his blood fall directly onto the ruby of the bracelet, blinking rapidly against the flash of light that causes floaters to dot his vision. "Bloody hell," he mutters, doing his best to hold still, his jaw set against the magic and the pain and the bloodletting.
Crystal's blink was far too delayed to avoid the worst of that blinding flash of light, and once the room's lighting returns to its previous state, she blinks in a daze. She squints, trying to see, but only finds spots in her vision. She can only hear Berlin's voice, and probably smell Brian's dinner. Growing more annoyed, and just a touch impatient, she twists Berlin's arm and presses the bleeding cut right into the bracelet dangling around his wrist, chastising it for that last act of defiance. It probably doesn't really expedite the decursing, but it provides Crystal with a certain sense of vindictive satisfaction. She can feel its influence beginning to wane.
With a final burst of power the curse on a golden bracelet is broken.
Crystals Decursing Attempt 241024
(Crystal's decursing attempt)
[Wed Oct 23 2024]
In a warm, spacious living room
Wooden floors and walls painted a soothing, yellow-tinged offwhite cast this living room in a warm glow, spacious and wide, and kept remarkably clean, with the wood below bearing a slightly glossy sheen, and no stains to speak of to mark the surroundings. The decoration is tasteful, a plush, pale green carpet centers the room, a couch and a couple of armchairs set upon it for a small space for conversation closer to the eastern end of the room, just by the entrance to the hallway beyond. Southward, a long counter stretches, separating the living room from the kitchen, the white marble top similarly clean.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Crystal steps back after opening the door, a knife held in one hand, the other motioning him in. She looks pretty underdressed, but this is her domain, so to speak. Hair disheveled, she stares at Berlin as unenthusiastically as ever, though no offense is intended. Berlin should know by now that that's just Crystal being herself. "Where is it?" she asks, scanning his form.
Berlin enters, giving Crystal a warm, dimpled smile, despite the hand he is holding rather conspicuously in the air. A gold bracelet is wrapped around the wrist, seemingly doing its best serpent impersonation and trying to strangle the limb. His fingers are already turning a slightly bad shade of blue. "Hey Crystal," he says, his voice a little tight with pain, "Thanks for helping me out."
Crystal nods her head slowly, then gestures for him to seat himself somewhere, keeping her gaze locked on that bracelet once it becomes clear that's the culprit. "Have a seat," comes a low suggestion from her. "On the floor, I think," she tacks on, moving over to seat herself on the coffee table. "This is pretty last minute," she half admits, more complains, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "We can do this though."
"Sorry," Berlin apologizes, settling himself down on the floor beside the coffee table, his fingers flexing as he does his best to maintain his circulation. "I didn't think it would be cursed. I went to get a drink, and when it arrived, it was on the base of the stem. I'd touched it before I'd even realized what it was."
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
As it isn't Crystal's first decursing, she reaches for her face, fingers playing over her first nostril, removing the metallic stud. "Hurts, doesn't it," she remarks dryly after she picks up the rapid transition of expressions turning over Berlin's features. "Where'd you find it?" she asks once the man has seated himself on the ground before her. It's almost like the coffee table is a throne as he lowers himself down on the floor. She runs a hand over the point of her knee, tapping her fingers over it in consideration, flicking her knife along the inside of her bared thigh with her other hand. "Last minute. We'll probably have to use blood." She stares at her knife, then at Berlin to indicate that it's probably his that will be the sacrificial offering tonight. "We probably don't need too much. Considering w-" Then she winces and reaches up for her ears.
Berlin gives another wince, his free hand going to his ear for a moment. He works his jaw, opening and closing it to stabilize the pressure in his ears. He can't, for a moment, hear what Crystal is saying, but it isn't his first rodio either, and she probably isn't the first magical woman to take his blood. His hand lowers from his ear, palm out, extending to rest gently in Crystal's lap. It takes the place where, just a couple days earlier and on a different form of throne, his other hand was caressing. There's still a look of pain on his face, from the ear popping and the boa constrictor bracelet, but the man is still a man, and Crystal is still gorgeous and the object of his fascination. His fingertips brush, just once, over that triangle of fabric which covers her sex from view, if only barely.
For several seconds the room grows painfully hot.
Crystal clicks her tongue in irritation at the bold way Berlin takes liberties with her, and as if to reprimand him she quickly takes his hand by the wrist and angles the sharp point of her knife down along his wrist. "You really can't help it, can you?" she mouthes, but unless Berlin was adept at lip reading or even watching her lips work those syllables out, he'd probably not comprehend what she was saying.
Not like it matters. She has his hand and with a steely grip at the wrist, takes what she needs. "Down the road, not across the street," she murmurs that infamous idiom, but in this case it's how to best draw blood. She has to work the sleeve of his coat from his arm first with that knife, which is easily done. The knife slices across the man's skin, producing a sting and a satisfying bloodlet down his arms and on the pristine floor. "Bracelet," she further instructs.
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Berlin nods, noting that look of irritation and setting his jaw, his mask of gentlemanly behavior settling into place once more. He gives yet another wince, this time in response to the kiss of the blade, but he gives no protest. sweat trickles in small rivulets down his temples, an angry swipe of the back of an arm ridding him of the annoyance before he offers the steadily bluing hand. slowly his hearing returns, the tinitis whine fading slowly, the bracelet giving another twist to tighten further on his wrist
Brian walks up behind Crystal and leans over to plant a kiss on her head. He nods at Berlin, then heads into the kitchen.
Perspiration starts to dot along Crystal's brow as the room because unnaturally hot, the cursed artifact reacting violently to the blood offering, voicing its own protest. It seems to be working, as the foul influence attempts to throw them off their game by pressurizing the air around them. It hardly phases her this time around, only mildly annoying her as her brow furrows. She angles Berlin's bleeding arm right over the other, heedless of how bloodied she'll get his fancy coat or the flooring she just swept the night before. She shifts some of her attention towards someone, but as he moves into the kitchen she focuses on the task on hand.
Once again, whatever she says is drowned out by the pressure building. She slides down from the coffee table, settling down on her knees before Berlin. She stares into his eyes, trying to gauge how he's doing while his life essence flows freely onto the bracelet, among other things.
Perspiration starts to dot along Crystal's brow as the room because unnaturally hot, the cursed artifact reacting violently to the blood offering, voicing its own protest. It seems to be working, as the foul influence attempts to throw them off their game by pressurizing the air around them. It hardly phases her this time around, only mildly annoying her as her brow furrows. She angles Berlin's bleeding arm right over the other, heedless of how bloodied she'll get his fancy coat or the flooring she just swept the night before. She shifts some of her attention towards Brian, but as he moves into the kitchen she focuses on the task on hand.
Once again, whatever she says is drowned out by the pressure building. She slides down from the coffee table, settling down on her knees before Berlin. She stares into his eyes, trying to gauge how he's doing while his life essence flows freely onto the bracelet, among other things.
Brian leans against the wall to observe while he eats dinner.
The artifact emits a flash of blinding light.
fortunately for Berlin's laundry bill, his coat is waterproof and finely waxed. It repels blood as easily as it repels the rain outside. He adjusts the position of his constricted arm, letting his blood fall directly onto the ruby of the bracelet, blinking rapidly against the flash of light that causes floaters to dot his vision. "Bloody hell," he mutters, doing his best to hold still, his jaw set against the magic and the pain and the bloodletting.
Crystal's blink was far too delayed to avoid the worst of that blinding flash of light, and once the room's lighting returns to its previous state, she blinks in a daze. She squints, trying to see, but only finds spots in her vision. She can only hear Berlin's voice, and probably smell Brian's dinner. Growing more annoyed, and just a touch impatient, she twists Berlin's arm and presses the bleeding cut right into the bracelet dangling around his wrist, chastising it for that last act of defiance. It probably doesn't really expedite the decursing, but it provides Crystal with a certain sense of vindictive satisfaction. She can feel its influence beginning to wane.
With a final burst of power the curse on a golden bracelet is broken.