Patrollogs
Emmanuels Ghost Banishing 240807
Amidst the haunting atmosphere of Arkwright Cemetery, Emmanuel finds himself entangled in a terrifying encounter with spectral creatures born from mist and smoke, alongside Korina and Nikolai. As dark, horned figures form from the swirling mists, an overwhelming sense of dread and the urge to succumb to one's darkest desires begin to plague the minds of the trio. Korina, pragmatic and unyielding, mocks Emmanuel's fear, asserting that it would only lead to their downfall. Nikolai, wielding a small hammer that ignites with flame, attempts to fend off the ghostly assailants with bursts of fire, though the rain renders his efforts less effective. Emmanuel, caught in a mix of awe and terror, is mercilessly attacked by a winged monkey-demon, leaving him to fend off its bone-chilling assault.
As the battle against the supernatural forces intensifies, Korina shifts gears, channeling her arcanist abilities to conjure motes of light, battling the oppressive darkness with glimmers of hope. Nikolai, though not as adept in the mystical arts, supports Korina with his own fiery prowess, finding solace and determination in their shared struggle. Emmanuel, on the other hand, is besieged by hellhounds, their phantom bites filling him with visions of damnation. In a desperate bid for survival, he resorts to throwing pocket salt at his ethereal attackers, a move that finds him a moment's respite but not without cost. The critical moment comes when Korina, with a display of ritualistic might, demands a blood sacrifice from Emmanuel to complete their banishment spell. The culmination of their efforts is a blinding explosion of light that vanquishes the smoke demons, leaving the cemetery calm, albeit at the expense of Emmanuel's wellbeing and a reminder of the harrowing truths of their world.
(Emmanuel's ghost banishing)
[Tue Aug 6 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is morning, about 77F(25C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's raining.
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
Emmanuel jumps, not just from the sudden smell of brimstone and the appearance of the black mist - but also the arrival of Korina and Nikolai as well. He lands awkwardly, nearly twisting an ankle, and having to lend most of his weight onto a nearby gravestone, "Well.. hallo."
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Emmanuel ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Korina frowns at the audacity of the mist and smoke to start rolling in /just/ at she makes her way across the cemetery, looking annoying at all the mud she has to trek through to get here, and then then frowns even harder at Emmanuel's twitchiness. "If you are that scared, the ghosts will eat you," she tells him matter-of-factly, and then abruptly shuts up at whatever she hears, blinking slowly. "I want to take a nap instead," she tells Nikolai, yawning and leaning against the man instead of doing anything to help. Of course.
"Privet," snorts Nikolai, pulling a small ball-peen hammer from a pocket in th elining of his jacket. "I hope you know what you are doing." He taps the head of his hammer against the flat of his palm once, twice, and finally on the third time a spray of embers flick through the air as the metal begins to crackle with heat. He points the tool at the ghosts, and a lance of flame rushes forth, swallowing up the sodden, rainy air as it seeks to eat up the essence of those ghosts. The rain isn't helping at all - his flames are thin, and prone to choking.
Then, of course, Emmanuel is being covered in smoke - though thankfully this time he isn't the source of it. There's a several second long self-assessment as he pats himself down, ensuring that isn't on fire before it's sinister effects begin to affect those gathered here. Oh, and then there is a fire, and Emmanuel is leaping away from Nikolai and taking cover behind the gravestone he'd been using as a crutch. Despite how scary it would usually be, Emmanuel pops right back up, like a piece of untoasted bread in a falty toaster, eyes as wide as saucers. "..Merde. That is amazing." He comments on the supernaturals ability, voice dripping with jealousy.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmanuel, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
The eepy moment passes with another yawn - maybe Korina has enough self-consciousness to recognize when she shouldn't be sitting back on her ass while Nikolai's flames are getting snuffed out by the rain, or maybe she just doesn't want to take a nap in the mud. Instead, she just goes through her usual ghost-banishing routine of bringing forth many tiny motes of light, all of them hanging like sparkling snowflakes in the air and brightening up the area in an effort to reduce some of the effect of the smoke and mist.
She pauses, mid-motion, to tell Emmanuel, "Monkey." It's belated, only after he's got the winged monkey-demon going to town on him. Her own flying monkey is dealt with via light, the arcatnist making the smoke-made creature glow until it bursts apart.
"That does not sound like Temple talk," Nikolai calls across the patch of graves. He's not quite a sorcerer: his flames aren't as pure, or as unearthly, or as strong as a true pyromancer's... But having an inborn ability to jettison flame could reasonably be described as amazing, certainly. The show of power cuts off as the hellish spectres descend and claw at him, and then he's bursting aglow in turns, sunlight flaring from his skin to ward away the phantoms' advances.
Monkey? Monkey.
"Monkey!" Emmanuel yells out in alarm, almost in sync with Korina's obseration. Perhaps he should've taken her earlier advice and simply stopped being scared. He raises his arms, beating at the critter that had lodged onto his face and head, and without hair to grapple with it was gripping him by his ears, and nose instead, sticking fingers where they do not belong. "Aaaah! Oof! Off!" The Frenchman cries out, entirely surprised by the simian assault.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Emmanuel and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
With Emmanuel's track record, he's most certainly going to be eaten alive by the smoke and mist demon-ghost-creatures. Korina looks almost amused while she peers across at him, letting Nikolai do his thing to let there be light while she amuses herself with watching that guy over there having a bad time.
That lasts only as long as the next wave of mist roils in; the amusement drops immediately from Korina's features, and she exhales out a sigh, creeping closer to Nikolai's side, and gets to work with her ritualism - trying to make a physical circle that won't get swept away by the rain would be next to impossible, and so she simply lets lances of light burst free beneath her feet in a lambent display, light streaming its way across the ground to form the illuminated circle.
Working on these banishments at the side of a trusted partner did come in mighty useful in times like these. Nikolai exhales slowly, then reaches up to squeeze Korina's shoulder, possessive and self-comforting. "I do not like spectres," he grumbles, lifting his hammer to renew the lashes of flame that whip through the air, existing only in the space between falling raindrops.
Of course, the third-wheeling might make it worse for Emmanuel than it had been in the first place. Who knows?
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmanuel with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
In a stroke of luck Emmanuel manages to escape from the terrible winged beast, and slides around to take cover behind one of the headstones. He's been using them a lot during this evenings event. The man pushes up a little, turning to glance over toward Korina and Nikolai, where a twing tucks at his stomach. Here he is, alone again, and overmatched once more. Always alone, and always outpowered. The weight settles in the pit of his stomach, as the depair of being a human in a world full of superhumans begins to pull down upon him once more.
Thankfully (?) his inner turmoil is interrupted by outer turmoil. As a literal hound from hell bursts out of the dark and mist and grabs him by the leg, filling him with images of burning in hell while it munches through flesh and very tight pants.
If it's any consolation at all, the slowly-spreading ritual circle of light does encompass enough of the space to provide some light to counter Emmanuel's misfortune. Just some of it, though; definitely doesn't help against the smoky hellhound munching at him. Korina bares her teeth at the hound, just out of principle, but it's mild - it's not headed for herself nor Nikolai, and she's got the banishment to work upon, seeing at Nikolai isn't an arcanist, and Emmanuel is just getting fucked up. She /does/, however, tell him: "I told you so." Be scared, get eaten. She is a prophet.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmanuel with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
Korina did tell Emmanuel so, that is true, and in case it wasn't apparent enough that he should've listened to her- a second hellhound comes bounding out of the mist to join it's compatriot in trying to pull down Emmanuel's pants. Not a rare event in Haven, usually, though it doesn't often involve hounds from hell. "Ahhhh!" The man wails out, kicking and flinching before eventually sticking a hand into one of his many pockets to produce a handful of pocket salt and throw it into the beasts faces, "Away! Away!" He cries out.
No time like a moment of spiritual weakness to bully the humans. Nikolai takes a few steps towards Emmanuel and his canine problem, thrusting the hammer within the hound' spectral form as if to slow-cook the thing from the inside out.
"You know you do not have to stay weak," he sneers over the Frenchman. "Even for born human - there are ways. Ascension could give you strength. Kiss of a vampire. Bite of wolf. You can be more than this." He flinches away as the salt gets tossed, though that's just instinctive - what manages to spray against his skin doesn't hurt him, and he rolls his eyes with disgruntlement.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmanuel, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
"Not bite of wolf!" Korina calls over at Nikolai and someone, like she's already planning for the latter's impending supernaturalhood, and the supernaturalhood in question does not come with turning into a /canine/. Gross. She's been steady at work though - light hangs in the air to pierce through the mists, and the now-complete ritual circle spreads across the ground in its entirely. The only thing left, of course, is...
"Lend me some blood," she tells Emmanuel, apparently not feeling like bloodletting herself.
And then the monkey is dodged with supernatural reflexes and a roll of Korina's eyes.
"Not bite of wolf!" Korina calls over at Nikolai and Emmanuel, like she's already planning for the latter's impending supernaturalhood, and the supernaturalhood in question does not come with turning into a /canine/. Gross. She's been steady at work though - light hangs in the air to pierce through the mists, and the now-complete ritual circle spreads across the ground in its entirely. The only thing left, of course, is...
"Lend me some blood," she tells Emmanuel, apparently not feeling like bloodletting herself.
And then the monkey is dodged with supernatural reflexes and a roll of Korina's eyes.
This isn't the time or place to discuss what strength truely is, especially because it's hard to argue that remaining human is the stronger option when you're rolling around on the ground and screaming - and being actively rescued by a supernatural. That being said, "Not a wolf!" Emmanuel cries out, apparently agreeing with Korina on that particular point. In another situation the Frenchman might argue that the super healing people should be the ones blood-letting, but with another monkey sweeping at him he lets that slide. "Here, here!" There's a flash of a blade as he pulls a weapon from his person, cutting across the back of his forearm and extending the bloody wound toward the wild woman.
Good enough. Korina grabs hold of Emmanuel's wrist with one hand, and digs her fingers painfully into the wound with the other, sending blood splattering all over - it may not be entirely /necessary/, but hey, is he going to argue with the arcanist here? The circle of light begins to glow, all that much brighter, and then brighter still until it hurts to keep the eyes open, letting the mists and the smoke fade with it with little to show for it aside from the lingering pain in Emmanuel's arm and the blood that still drips down his hand when Korina lets go.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.
As the battle against the supernatural forces intensifies, Korina shifts gears, channeling her arcanist abilities to conjure motes of light, battling the oppressive darkness with glimmers of hope. Nikolai, though not as adept in the mystical arts, supports Korina with his own fiery prowess, finding solace and determination in their shared struggle. Emmanuel, on the other hand, is besieged by hellhounds, their phantom bites filling him with visions of damnation. In a desperate bid for survival, he resorts to throwing pocket salt at his ethereal attackers, a move that finds him a moment's respite but not without cost. The critical moment comes when Korina, with a display of ritualistic might, demands a blood sacrifice from Emmanuel to complete their banishment spell. The culmination of their efforts is a blinding explosion of light that vanquishes the smoke demons, leaving the cemetery calm, albeit at the expense of Emmanuel's wellbeing and a reminder of the harrowing truths of their world.
(Emmanuel's ghost banishing)
[Tue Aug 6 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is morning, about 77F(25C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's raining.
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
Emmanuel jumps, not just from the sudden smell of brimstone and the appearance of the black mist - but also the arrival of Korina and Nikolai as well. He lands awkwardly, nearly twisting an ankle, and having to lend most of his weight onto a nearby gravestone, "Well.. hallo."
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Emmanuel ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Korina frowns at the audacity of the mist and smoke to start rolling in /just/ at she makes her way across the cemetery, looking annoying at all the mud she has to trek through to get here, and then then frowns even harder at Emmanuel's twitchiness. "If you are that scared, the ghosts will eat you," she tells him matter-of-factly, and then abruptly shuts up at whatever she hears, blinking slowly. "I want to take a nap instead," she tells Nikolai, yawning and leaning against the man instead of doing anything to help. Of course.
"Privet," snorts Nikolai, pulling a small ball-peen hammer from a pocket in th elining of his jacket. "I hope you know what you are doing." He taps the head of his hammer against the flat of his palm once, twice, and finally on the third time a spray of embers flick through the air as the metal begins to crackle with heat. He points the tool at the ghosts, and a lance of flame rushes forth, swallowing up the sodden, rainy air as it seeks to eat up the essence of those ghosts. The rain isn't helping at all - his flames are thin, and prone to choking.
Then, of course, Emmanuel is being covered in smoke - though thankfully this time he isn't the source of it. There's a several second long self-assessment as he pats himself down, ensuring that isn't on fire before it's sinister effects begin to affect those gathered here. Oh, and then there is a fire, and Emmanuel is leaping away from Nikolai and taking cover behind the gravestone he'd been using as a crutch. Despite how scary it would usually be, Emmanuel pops right back up, like a piece of untoasted bread in a falty toaster, eyes as wide as saucers. "..Merde. That is amazing." He comments on the supernaturals ability, voice dripping with jealousy.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmanuel, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
The eepy moment passes with another yawn - maybe Korina has enough self-consciousness to recognize when she shouldn't be sitting back on her ass while Nikolai's flames are getting snuffed out by the rain, or maybe she just doesn't want to take a nap in the mud. Instead, she just goes through her usual ghost-banishing routine of bringing forth many tiny motes of light, all of them hanging like sparkling snowflakes in the air and brightening up the area in an effort to reduce some of the effect of the smoke and mist.
She pauses, mid-motion, to tell Emmanuel, "Monkey." It's belated, only after he's got the winged monkey-demon going to town on him. Her own flying monkey is dealt with via light, the arcatnist making the smoke-made creature glow until it bursts apart.
"That does not sound like Temple talk," Nikolai calls across the patch of graves. He's not quite a sorcerer: his flames aren't as pure, or as unearthly, or as strong as a true pyromancer's... But having an inborn ability to jettison flame could reasonably be described as amazing, certainly. The show of power cuts off as the hellish spectres descend and claw at him, and then he's bursting aglow in turns, sunlight flaring from his skin to ward away the phantoms' advances.
Monkey? Monkey.
"Monkey!" Emmanuel yells out in alarm, almost in sync with Korina's obseration. Perhaps he should've taken her earlier advice and simply stopped being scared. He raises his arms, beating at the critter that had lodged onto his face and head, and without hair to grapple with it was gripping him by his ears, and nose instead, sticking fingers where they do not belong. "Aaaah! Oof! Off!" The Frenchman cries out, entirely surprised by the simian assault.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Emmanuel and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
With Emmanuel's track record, he's most certainly going to be eaten alive by the smoke and mist demon-ghost-creatures. Korina looks almost amused while she peers across at him, letting Nikolai do his thing to let there be light while she amuses herself with watching that guy over there having a bad time.
That lasts only as long as the next wave of mist roils in; the amusement drops immediately from Korina's features, and she exhales out a sigh, creeping closer to Nikolai's side, and gets to work with her ritualism - trying to make a physical circle that won't get swept away by the rain would be next to impossible, and so she simply lets lances of light burst free beneath her feet in a lambent display, light streaming its way across the ground to form the illuminated circle.
Working on these banishments at the side of a trusted partner did come in mighty useful in times like these. Nikolai exhales slowly, then reaches up to squeeze Korina's shoulder, possessive and self-comforting. "I do not like spectres," he grumbles, lifting his hammer to renew the lashes of flame that whip through the air, existing only in the space between falling raindrops.
Of course, the third-wheeling might make it worse for Emmanuel than it had been in the first place. Who knows?
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmanuel with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
In a stroke of luck Emmanuel manages to escape from the terrible winged beast, and slides around to take cover behind one of the headstones. He's been using them a lot during this evenings event. The man pushes up a little, turning to glance over toward Korina and Nikolai, where a twing tucks at his stomach. Here he is, alone again, and overmatched once more. Always alone, and always outpowered. The weight settles in the pit of his stomach, as the depair of being a human in a world full of superhumans begins to pull down upon him once more.
Thankfully (?) his inner turmoil is interrupted by outer turmoil. As a literal hound from hell bursts out of the dark and mist and grabs him by the leg, filling him with images of burning in hell while it munches through flesh and very tight pants.
If it's any consolation at all, the slowly-spreading ritual circle of light does encompass enough of the space to provide some light to counter Emmanuel's misfortune. Just some of it, though; definitely doesn't help against the smoky hellhound munching at him. Korina bares her teeth at the hound, just out of principle, but it's mild - it's not headed for herself nor Nikolai, and she's got the banishment to work upon, seeing at Nikolai isn't an arcanist, and Emmanuel is just getting fucked up. She /does/, however, tell him: "I told you so." Be scared, get eaten. She is a prophet.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmanuel with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
Korina did tell Emmanuel so, that is true, and in case it wasn't apparent enough that he should've listened to her- a second hellhound comes bounding out of the mist to join it's compatriot in trying to pull down Emmanuel's pants. Not a rare event in Haven, usually, though it doesn't often involve hounds from hell. "Ahhhh!" The man wails out, kicking and flinching before eventually sticking a hand into one of his many pockets to produce a handful of pocket salt and throw it into the beasts faces, "Away! Away!" He cries out.
No time like a moment of spiritual weakness to bully the humans. Nikolai takes a few steps towards Emmanuel and his canine problem, thrusting the hammer within the hound' spectral form as if to slow-cook the thing from the inside out.
"You know you do not have to stay weak," he sneers over the Frenchman. "Even for born human - there are ways. Ascension could give you strength. Kiss of a vampire. Bite of wolf. You can be more than this." He flinches away as the salt gets tossed, though that's just instinctive - what manages to spray against his skin doesn't hurt him, and he rolls his eyes with disgruntlement.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmanuel, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
"Not bite of wolf!" Korina calls over at Nikolai and someone, like she's already planning for the latter's impending supernaturalhood, and the supernaturalhood in question does not come with turning into a /canine/. Gross. She's been steady at work though - light hangs in the air to pierce through the mists, and the now-complete ritual circle spreads across the ground in its entirely. The only thing left, of course, is...
"Lend me some blood," she tells Emmanuel, apparently not feeling like bloodletting herself.
And then the monkey is dodged with supernatural reflexes and a roll of Korina's eyes.
"Not bite of wolf!" Korina calls over at Nikolai and Emmanuel, like she's already planning for the latter's impending supernaturalhood, and the supernaturalhood in question does not come with turning into a /canine/. Gross. She's been steady at work though - light hangs in the air to pierce through the mists, and the now-complete ritual circle spreads across the ground in its entirely. The only thing left, of course, is...
"Lend me some blood," she tells Emmanuel, apparently not feeling like bloodletting herself.
And then the monkey is dodged with supernatural reflexes and a roll of Korina's eyes.
This isn't the time or place to discuss what strength truely is, especially because it's hard to argue that remaining human is the stronger option when you're rolling around on the ground and screaming - and being actively rescued by a supernatural. That being said, "Not a wolf!" Emmanuel cries out, apparently agreeing with Korina on that particular point. In another situation the Frenchman might argue that the super healing people should be the ones blood-letting, but with another monkey sweeping at him he lets that slide. "Here, here!" There's a flash of a blade as he pulls a weapon from his person, cutting across the back of his forearm and extending the bloody wound toward the wild woman.
Good enough. Korina grabs hold of Emmanuel's wrist with one hand, and digs her fingers painfully into the wound with the other, sending blood splattering all over - it may not be entirely /necessary/, but hey, is he going to argue with the arcanist here? The circle of light begins to glow, all that much brighter, and then brighter still until it hurts to keep the eyes open, letting the mists and the smoke fade with it with little to show for it aside from the lingering pain in Emmanuel's arm and the blood that still drips down his hand when Korina lets go.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.