Patrollogs
(Emmanuel's decursing attempt)
[Sun Sep 1 2024]
In the Intake Room of the Mothballed Clinic Annex
The entry hall of the abandoned annex of Haven's mental asylum is in a state of decay. The walls are lined with peeling green paint, and the floor is littered with debris and dust. Broken windows let in only a faint light, creating deep shadows. The air feels heavy, reflecting the building's grim past.
(NORTH) ------- Dormitory & Treatment
(WEST) -------- Visiting & Recreation
It is night, about 70F(21C) degrees, There is a waning crescent moon.
Emmanuel says "Fayad, hm? I am at the mothballed clinic, would you help? "
Emmanuel says "If you are being busy, just say this, non?"
"Well, how hard can this be, hm?" Emmanuel wonders to himself as he stalks back and forth in the abandoned crazy house. The natural environment for a French immigrant, it seems. His fingers refuse to release the dagger as he shakes it back and forth several times, muttering under his breath all the while, "Asking for help? From the SuPeRnAtuRal?" He mocks something he'd heard on the chatrooms earlier, adopting a whiney, American accent, "It is like they are swallowing the silly pills, hm?"
"Tch." Emmanuel scoffs at no one, "Pffft," He lets his frustration be evident, "It is like they have never heard of responsibilities, hm? Or.. or brush burning, hm? How else can one deal with-" He pauses, catching sight of his own reflection in a broken mirror, and then deflates, "..I am talking to myself." A beat, "And in English too."
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Then his ears are popping painfully, and Emmanuel gets right back on task- which is to say, he starts muttering to himself again. The pinky of his free hand is jabbed into an ear canal, and wiggled violently before giving up. "Ahh, this is madness." Emmanuel declares, then rooting about in his pockets until he produces a piece of chalk.
With chalk in hand, Emmanuel goes about scribbling a circle into the floor of the abandoned building. It's not a very good circle. It's lump, and looks like someone may've sat on it. He goes over the lines a few times too, giving it a weird sort of frantic energy. That is also probably less than ideal.
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Then there's a prickling sensation at the back of Emmanuel's neck, and he turns a little. Only to see the initial workings of pathing magic. "Merde!" The man cries out, evidentally having forgotten he'd paid for a jump to Nissenia from some hedge wizard or so. It draws him in closer as he scrambles to try and hold onto the dagger, but soon enough he's being thrown through space and time.
Emmanuels Decursing Attempt 240902
(Emmanuel's decursing attempt)
[Sun Sep 1 2024]
In the Intake Room of the Mothballed Clinic Annex
The entry hall of the abandoned annex of Haven's mental asylum is in a state of decay. The walls are lined with peeling green paint, and the floor is littered with debris and dust. Broken windows let in only a faint light, creating deep shadows. The air feels heavy, reflecting the building's grim past.
(NORTH) ------- Dormitory & Treatment
(WEST) -------- Visiting & Recreation
It is night, about 70F(21C) degrees, There is a waning crescent moon.
Emmanuel says "Fayad, hm? I am at the mothballed clinic, would you help? "
Emmanuel says "If you are being busy, just say this, non?"
"Well, how hard can this be, hm?" Emmanuel wonders to himself as he stalks back and forth in the abandoned crazy house. The natural environment for a French immigrant, it seems. His fingers refuse to release the dagger as he shakes it back and forth several times, muttering under his breath all the while, "Asking for help? From the SuPeRnAtuRal?" He mocks something he'd heard on the chatrooms earlier, adopting a whiney, American accent, "It is like they are swallowing the silly pills, hm?"
"Tch." Emmanuel scoffs at no one, "Pffft," He lets his frustration be evident, "It is like they have never heard of responsibilities, hm? Or.. or brush burning, hm? How else can one deal with-" He pauses, catching sight of his own reflection in a broken mirror, and then deflates, "..I am talking to myself." A beat, "And in English too."
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Then his ears are popping painfully, and Emmanuel gets right back on task- which is to say, he starts muttering to himself again. The pinky of his free hand is jabbed into an ear canal, and wiggled violently before giving up. "Ahh, this is madness." Emmanuel declares, then rooting about in his pockets until he produces a piece of chalk.
With chalk in hand, Emmanuel goes about scribbling a circle into the floor of the abandoned building. It's not a very good circle. It's lump, and looks like someone may've sat on it. He goes over the lines a few times too, giving it a weird sort of frantic energy. That is also probably less than ideal.
Growing air pressure makes your ear's pop uncomfortably and deadens all sound.
Then there's a prickling sensation at the back of Emmanuel's neck, and he turns a little. Only to see the initial workings of pathing magic. "Merde!" The man cries out, evidentally having forgotten he'd paid for a jump to Nissenia from some hedge wizard or so. It draws him in closer as he scrambles to try and hold onto the dagger, but soon enough he's being thrown through space and time.