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Emmanuels Ghost Banishing 241212
On a cold, eerie night in Arkwright Cemetery, amidst a supernatural storm of spectral conflict, Emmanuel and Emmelline find themselves caught in the crossfire of two ghostly armies. The restless spirits, donned in ethereal armor and wielding magical powers, engage in a relentless battle that seems to stretch beyond time itself, paying no heed to the living. As a towering spectral knight causes a gravestone to shatter, threatening their safety, Emmelline reveals her familiarity with these spirit conflicts. She proceeds to work on a complex ritual involving a wooden tablet inscribed with runes and blood, hinting at a method to banish the ghosts. Emmanuel, meanwhile, seeks temporary refuge from the spectral onslaught, carefully observing Emmelline's actions while attempting to fend off spirits with handfuls of salt, despite the questionable effectiveness of his method.
As the confrontation heightens, with spectral generals clashing and causing a shockwave that disrupts the very ground they stand on, Emmelline and Emmanuel's conversation takes a personal turn. Emmanuel hints at Emmelline's affiliation with a group known as the Hand, sparking a brief exchange about their respective connections. Despite the chaos, Emmelline focuses on completing her ritual, causing the tablet to emit a glowing light that gradually gains strength and begins to have a tangible effect on the spectral entities. In contrast, Emmanuel's salt-tossing strategy comes into question, though he insists on its efficacy against spirits, an assertion that Emmelline skeptically indulges. With the tablet's power growing, the last moments of the encounter hint at an imminent resolution to the ghostly upheaval, leaving the curious dynamics and shared experiences between Emmanuel and Emmelline to unfold amidst the haunting backdrop of Arkwright Cemetery.
(Emmanuel's ghost banishing)
[Wed Dec 11 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 40F(4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
An eerie stillness settles over the graveyard, the fog thickening like an otherworldly veil. The ground trembles, and two ghostly armies surge forth, locked in a battle that defies time. One side, draped in ethereal armor, charges with spectral weapons, while the other hurls crackling bolts of elemental magic. The air is alight with haunting energy as the spirits, long dead, resume their eternal battle, heedless of the living who are caught in their spectral warpath.
'No worries," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head. "I assume thisi s your show?""
"I think this might be the case, oui," Emmanuel allows with a little nod, and another shiver as those ghostly forces begin to appear about them, "Emmanuel, hm? Bying the by," He introduces himself to Emmelline with a quirk of the lips, "Are you having much experience with this?"
A towering, spectral knight swings his sword at a ghostly conjurer, cutting the arcanist in half and continuing onwards to collide against a gravestone. The collision smashes the gravestone apart, sending shards flying all around dangerously.
'I've done enough of them yes. Seen this particular group of spirits at least," Emmelline says with a little laugh and a nod to Emmanuel. She takes out a small wooden tablet, with various shapes symbols and runes carved into it. She also takes out a vial of blood, and a pipette. She draws the blood carefully from the vial, and eginss equally carefully dripping the blood on various parts of her tablet, whilst avoiding others."
There's a bit of a glance aside to Emmelline and their tablet-work before Emmanuel is diving to the side to avoid being splattered by any of the broken pieces of gravestone flying through the air, "Merde!" He cries out, tucking and rolling through the dirt and grass, "Do you have a name?" He quips over towards Emmelline then, while rummaging about in his various pockets.
"Oh yeah," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head at Emmanuel, "you're going to want cover for this insanity. They throw shite." At Emmanuel's latter words she nods. "Yes, though I thought you knew already," she replies easily. As she speaks, she takes cover, before resuming her work. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might think she was making a piece of art, though with a pipette, rather than a paint brush.
"..Have we met?" Emmanuel blurts back, squinting over toward Emmelline for several longer seconds then, before shaking his head, "Maybe- maybe, hm? Emm-something, hm?" He takes a shot in the relative dark, retrieving a small bag of salt from his pocket and filling a hand with some of the stuff.
"In passing," Emmelline easily replies to Emmanuel. "Emmelline, though most just call me Emma," she replies conversationally.
Spectral war drums pound as cavalry specters sweep in from the flank, met by a line of phantom nature mages who attempt to pull at the soil beneath their feet. The clash shakes the ground, causing cracks to appear underfoot and sending the living stumbling as the earth heaves.
"Ah, this is right, you worked for Ash, non? At the Diner?" Emmanuel clarifies of the woman then, squinting through the dark over toward the ring on her finger, and trying to make out the symbol. "..Ah." Something falls into place then, before he starts tossing handfuls of salt at the various spectral warriors. Only then to go stumbling this way and that, falling over once more, "Oof."
"yes I do," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head at Emmanuel. "I have done for... near on three months now." Though as Emmanuel looks at her right hand, the pointer one holding a simple silver ring, and her ring finger adorning a golden emerald ring, she shrugs. Clearly unsure which the man was looking at. And seeming unconcerned as a whole.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
"That must be difficult, non?" Emmanuel wonders of Emmelline then, making somewhat casual conversation as he peeks over the gravestones once more, only for his cover to be cracked and his body to be thrown back again, "God damn it," He complains with a grunt, trying to scramble up to his feet.
"I'm sorry what's difficult?," Emmelline asks of Emmanuel, though she waits till the man rights himself before asking. As she converses, she continues to cover various parts of the small wooden tablet with the blood from the vial. It takes her a few minutes more, before she puts away the pipette and the small vial, before a focused expression takes over her countenance.
"Oooow, ow." Emmanuel complains a few more times from his place on the ground, before finally making his way back up onto his knees, and then eventually his feet, "Working for the Hand," He clarifies for Emmelline with a cough, "Given.." There's a gesture at her pretty scroll and sword ring as he says as much, before moving to slink closer toward her tablet, "What's that doing?"
The air thickens with an unnatural fog as ghostly archers let loose a volley of arrows. The projectiles are swept away by a whirlwind conjured by spectral windcallers, and the gust of wind sends everyone alive flying against tombstones with bone-jarring force.
"You don't fool me," Emmelline says with a shake of her head at Emmanuel's words. "You know well enough, that isn't the symbol for the hand. If you don't, well then... perhaps you ought. Given your girlfriend... lover... companion... whatever, is also in my faction." Her words are said in a teasing tone, rather than an angry one. As if Emmanuel might be playing a game with her.
The air thickens with an unnatural fog as ghostly archers let loose a volley of arrows. The projectiles are swept away by a whirlwind conjured by spectral windcallers, and the gust of wind sends everyone alive flying against tombstones with bone-jarring force.
"..Ash is a Hand member," Emmanuel speaks a little slower this time, lest his accent cause any problems, "That is the point I was making, hm?" He clarifies for Emmelline with a cluck of the tongue, only to be thrown around again, "Merde! All this throwing!"
"I told you to take cover," Emmelline says with a soft chuckle. "And I don't really see them," she replies to Emmanuel. "I work there, I get paid. We don't really interact much. What they do in their own personal time is beyond me, so long as I get paid on the regular."
"You did, you did," Emmanuel has to allow as he scrambles back up with a hiss, nursing a bruised rib, before peering back over at Emmelline, "Even if what they are doing is eating people?" He queries of her then, before giving up on this for the time being to toss some more salt at the spectres.
A phalanx of ghostly knights charges forward, their spectral lances aimed at a line of mages, who summon a wall of fire in a desperate attempt to halt the advance. The resulting explosion sends waves of heat blasting throughout the graveyard, setting plants and clothing on fire.
Emmelline sighs and shakes her head at Emmanuel. "Let's not turn that particular rock over hmm?," she says, and as the minutes pass, the tablet begins to emit a glow. Weak and flockering at first, but as time wears on, it grows stronger. She aims it at the spirits, it having the desired effects on banishing the ghosts. "So... is there a reason you seem to enjoy throwing seasonings at the spirits? Does that do anything/," she asks, accentuating the word do.
"Mmm, it's a very hard thing to confront, non? Easier to let it slide past," Emmanuel opines in response to Emmelline with a bit of a knowing look, before faltering at her remarks and huffing out heatlessly, "Oui, of course it does! Spirits hate salt, hm? It is good for..- Look, it's working!" It's probably not. Really, what seems to be working is Emmelline's own attempts with her tablet.
"What is with people and salt these days?," Emmelline remarks more to herself than to Emmanuel. Perhaps referring to another incident in the not too distant past. "Well, we're nearly done I think."
"Have you been ass-salt-ed?" Emmanuel quips back to Emmelline as he throws more and more of the stuff.
Emmelline rolls her eyes at Emmanuel's words. "It's just very popular these days," she simply replies.
As the confrontation heightens, with spectral generals clashing and causing a shockwave that disrupts the very ground they stand on, Emmelline and Emmanuel's conversation takes a personal turn. Emmanuel hints at Emmelline's affiliation with a group known as the Hand, sparking a brief exchange about their respective connections. Despite the chaos, Emmelline focuses on completing her ritual, causing the tablet to emit a glowing light that gradually gains strength and begins to have a tangible effect on the spectral entities. In contrast, Emmanuel's salt-tossing strategy comes into question, though he insists on its efficacy against spirits, an assertion that Emmelline skeptically indulges. With the tablet's power growing, the last moments of the encounter hint at an imminent resolution to the ghostly upheaval, leaving the curious dynamics and shared experiences between Emmanuel and Emmelline to unfold amidst the haunting backdrop of Arkwright Cemetery.
(Emmanuel's ghost banishing)
[Wed Dec 11 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 40F(4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
An eerie stillness settles over the graveyard, the fog thickening like an otherworldly veil. The ground trembles, and two ghostly armies surge forth, locked in a battle that defies time. One side, draped in ethereal armor, charges with spectral weapons, while the other hurls crackling bolts of elemental magic. The air is alight with haunting energy as the spirits, long dead, resume their eternal battle, heedless of the living who are caught in their spectral warpath.
'No worries," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head. "I assume thisi s your show?""
"I think this might be the case, oui," Emmanuel allows with a little nod, and another shiver as those ghostly forces begin to appear about them, "Emmanuel, hm? Bying the by," He introduces himself to Emmelline with a quirk of the lips, "Are you having much experience with this?"
A towering, spectral knight swings his sword at a ghostly conjurer, cutting the arcanist in half and continuing onwards to collide against a gravestone. The collision smashes the gravestone apart, sending shards flying all around dangerously.
'I've done enough of them yes. Seen this particular group of spirits at least," Emmelline says with a little laugh and a nod to Emmanuel. She takes out a small wooden tablet, with various shapes symbols and runes carved into it. She also takes out a vial of blood, and a pipette. She draws the blood carefully from the vial, and eginss equally carefully dripping the blood on various parts of her tablet, whilst avoiding others."
There's a bit of a glance aside to Emmelline and their tablet-work before Emmanuel is diving to the side to avoid being splattered by any of the broken pieces of gravestone flying through the air, "Merde!" He cries out, tucking and rolling through the dirt and grass, "Do you have a name?" He quips over towards Emmelline then, while rummaging about in his various pockets.
"Oh yeah," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head at Emmanuel, "you're going to want cover for this insanity. They throw shite." At Emmanuel's latter words she nods. "Yes, though I thought you knew already," she replies easily. As she speaks, she takes cover, before resuming her work. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might think she was making a piece of art, though with a pipette, rather than a paint brush.
"..Have we met?" Emmanuel blurts back, squinting over toward Emmelline for several longer seconds then, before shaking his head, "Maybe- maybe, hm? Emm-something, hm?" He takes a shot in the relative dark, retrieving a small bag of salt from his pocket and filling a hand with some of the stuff.
"In passing," Emmelline easily replies to Emmanuel. "Emmelline, though most just call me Emma," she replies conversationally.
Spectral war drums pound as cavalry specters sweep in from the flank, met by a line of phantom nature mages who attempt to pull at the soil beneath their feet. The clash shakes the ground, causing cracks to appear underfoot and sending the living stumbling as the earth heaves.
"Ah, this is right, you worked for Ash, non? At the Diner?" Emmanuel clarifies of the woman then, squinting through the dark over toward the ring on her finger, and trying to make out the symbol. "..Ah." Something falls into place then, before he starts tossing handfuls of salt at the various spectral warriors. Only then to go stumbling this way and that, falling over once more, "Oof."
"yes I do," Emmelline says with an easy nod of her head at Emmanuel. "I have done for... near on three months now." Though as Emmanuel looks at her right hand, the pointer one holding a simple silver ring, and her ring finger adorning a golden emerald ring, she shrugs. Clearly unsure which the man was looking at. And seeming unconcerned as a whole.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
"That must be difficult, non?" Emmanuel wonders of Emmelline then, making somewhat casual conversation as he peeks over the gravestones once more, only for his cover to be cracked and his body to be thrown back again, "God damn it," He complains with a grunt, trying to scramble up to his feet.
"I'm sorry what's difficult?," Emmelline asks of Emmanuel, though she waits till the man rights himself before asking. As she converses, she continues to cover various parts of the small wooden tablet with the blood from the vial. It takes her a few minutes more, before she puts away the pipette and the small vial, before a focused expression takes over her countenance.
"Oooow, ow." Emmanuel complains a few more times from his place on the ground, before finally making his way back up onto his knees, and then eventually his feet, "Working for the Hand," He clarifies for Emmelline with a cough, "Given.." There's a gesture at her pretty scroll and sword ring as he says as much, before moving to slink closer toward her tablet, "What's that doing?"
The air thickens with an unnatural fog as ghostly archers let loose a volley of arrows. The projectiles are swept away by a whirlwind conjured by spectral windcallers, and the gust of wind sends everyone alive flying against tombstones with bone-jarring force.
"You don't fool me," Emmelline says with a shake of her head at Emmanuel's words. "You know well enough, that isn't the symbol for the hand. If you don't, well then... perhaps you ought. Given your girlfriend... lover... companion... whatever, is also in my faction." Her words are said in a teasing tone, rather than an angry one. As if Emmanuel might be playing a game with her.
The air thickens with an unnatural fog as ghostly archers let loose a volley of arrows. The projectiles are swept away by a whirlwind conjured by spectral windcallers, and the gust of wind sends everyone alive flying against tombstones with bone-jarring force.
"..Ash is a Hand member," Emmanuel speaks a little slower this time, lest his accent cause any problems, "That is the point I was making, hm?" He clarifies for Emmelline with a cluck of the tongue, only to be thrown around again, "Merde! All this throwing!"
"I told you to take cover," Emmelline says with a soft chuckle. "And I don't really see them," she replies to Emmanuel. "I work there, I get paid. We don't really interact much. What they do in their own personal time is beyond me, so long as I get paid on the regular."
"You did, you did," Emmanuel has to allow as he scrambles back up with a hiss, nursing a bruised rib, before peering back over at Emmelline, "Even if what they are doing is eating people?" He queries of her then, before giving up on this for the time being to toss some more salt at the spectres.
A phalanx of ghostly knights charges forward, their spectral lances aimed at a line of mages, who summon a wall of fire in a desperate attempt to halt the advance. The resulting explosion sends waves of heat blasting throughout the graveyard, setting plants and clothing on fire.
Emmelline sighs and shakes her head at Emmanuel. "Let's not turn that particular rock over hmm?," she says, and as the minutes pass, the tablet begins to emit a glow. Weak and flockering at first, but as time wears on, it grows stronger. She aims it at the spirits, it having the desired effects on banishing the ghosts. "So... is there a reason you seem to enjoy throwing seasonings at the spirits? Does that do anything/," she asks, accentuating the word do.
"Mmm, it's a very hard thing to confront, non? Easier to let it slide past," Emmanuel opines in response to Emmelline with a bit of a knowing look, before faltering at her remarks and huffing out heatlessly, "Oui, of course it does! Spirits hate salt, hm? It is good for..- Look, it's working!" It's probably not. Really, what seems to be working is Emmelline's own attempts with her tablet.
"What is with people and salt these days?," Emmelline remarks more to herself than to Emmanuel. Perhaps referring to another incident in the not too distant past. "Well, we're nearly done I think."
"Have you been ass-salt-ed?" Emmanuel quips back to Emmelline as he throws more and more of the stuff.
Emmelline rolls her eyes at Emmanuel's words. "It's just very popular these days," she simply replies.