Patrollogs
(Emmanuel's nightmare battle with Lucien)
[Fri Dec 13 2024]
In a large, extravagant bedchamber
This bedroom is hung with expensive silks and paintings. In the center, a massive four poster canopy bed claims the floor. Curtains hang around it, allowing for an occupant to draw them shut around the bed. A oak table sits in one corner of the room.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
"Oh, nice bow." Emmanuel drawls out through the nightmare, while squinting to try and figure out who he'd been pulled in against.
Stepping into the nightmare, Sam nods towards Lucien, just once.
Lucien says "What's going on here, Mr. Phisher?"
"I appreciate the backup, hm?" Emmanuel comments aside to Fayad with an approving quirk of the lips from beneath his mask, "I think we've got a few Hand people on the other side."
Fayad says "Won't ever miss an opportunity to inflict pain on the Hand. No. Never."
Fayad says "Cut off all the fingers."
Sam nods again to Lucien, pointing into the deeper darkness. "I think we're about to fight, Mister President." He grins some, lopsidedly so.
Fayad says "I don't know who you are. I don't know where I am. All I know is that I'm going to burn."
"Lovely." Emmanuel drawls out, dryly, grimacing a little. "Oh, and it's their President. The Vampire. Fitting in a way, non?"
Sam says "Oh, hello Emmanuel."
Fayad says "This interrupted my ritual. Sorry. Can try it again after."
"Monsieur Baptiste, you might have found a more fitting place for a dinner date." The Arkwright rolls Lucien's shoulders, turning a glacial gaze about the nightmare's twisting confines.
Fayad says "You know I'm fast at them. Just not that fast."
Sam says "Hmm, not temple, surely? They can't have arcanists, can they?"
"Ah, I am non hungry, hm? I already ate in Hell." Emmanuel comments back into the darkness surrounding he and Fayad, then adding, "Why don't we stop the running and get this done?"
Fayad says "I am Fayad al-Munaqadh, student of Gonthorian the Firestarter, member of no circle."
"..You know when you say it like that? People just use it against you, hm?" Emmanuel notes aside to Fayad in a lower voice then, clucking his tongue softly.
Fayad insists, "That's how it's done in arcane society."
Fayad says "I'm not just going to make up someone I apprenticed under."
Sam says "I mean, Gontharion is kinna losing, isn't he?"
Fayad says "Yes. Thankfully."
Fayad says "I will live to eat the hearts of both dragons."
"..Likely because we crippled his cult, in fact," Emmanuel further adds to that point, and then adds, "This is why you need to show a little more nuance in your words, Fayad."
Lucien looks to Sam, then replies into the darkness, "Monsieur al-Munaqadh, we have no quarrel. Speak into the ether what you wish, and let our Organization push you towards your Destiny."
Fayad says "I want Selina Brightwood dead."
Lucien lets his glacial gaze lower towards what could be either the floor or the ceiling, untelling.
Lucien, pulling the gut-wrought string of his yew bow towards his face, lets loose an arrow roughly the size of a forearm in Emmanuel's direction. "Monsieur al-Munaqadh, we are of one mind in this. Deliver destruction upon Monsieur Baptiste, and let us wring your destiny whole from unwoven cloth." The arrow clings to shadows near Emmanuel without hitting him.
There's a quiet roll of Emmanuel's eyes beneath his mask as he draws up his pistol, rather than the large rifle hanging about his torso, "Fayad is non this stupid, hm? We've killed Brightwood once ourselves, and we'll do so again. All without having to enslave the rest of humanity to do so, hm?" He drawls out, before raising the weapon and firing a radioactive round right at poor Sam, only to follow that up with a grenade before charging in closer to Lucien.
Fayad murmurs, "I owe Emmanuel more than my life." He backs away, nodding to himself as he begins to chant incantation and ritual under his breath. The air around him heats up, and he cradles a small figurine in both hands, running his metal and fleshy arm over it as he paves the path for habitation.
Hissing out, Sam grabs his knife, stabbing out. "Oh, fuck you, emmanuel." He misses, the blade skidding off of Lucien's hammer. "Fuck." The jock scowls, clearly quite discombobulated by the combination radiation and grenades.
"Ey Fayad, wanna share notes on dragon banishing rituals?" He grins some, through obvious pain at that radio-active round.
"Woah," There's a brief moment where all Emmanuel can do is stare in awe-struck wonder as Sam manages to deflect an honest-to-god bullet with just his knife, but soon enough reality starts bleeding back in and the Frenchman follows up the assault of radioactive materials with that of cold steel. He swings his axe with both hands, trying to knock the other fellow over, and out of the fight in quick order.
Emmanuels Nightmare Battle With Sam 241214
(Emmanuel's nightmare battle with Lucien)
[Fri Dec 13 2024]
In a large, extravagant bedchamber
This bedroom is hung with expensive silks and paintings. In the center, a massive four poster canopy bed claims the floor. Curtains hang around it, allowing for an occupant to draw them shut around the bed. A oak table sits in one corner of the room.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
"Oh, nice bow." Emmanuel drawls out through the nightmare, while squinting to try and figure out who he'd been pulled in against.
Stepping into the nightmare, Sam nods towards Lucien, just once.
Lucien says "What's going on here, Mr. Phisher?"
"I appreciate the backup, hm?" Emmanuel comments aside to Fayad with an approving quirk of the lips from beneath his mask, "I think we've got a few Hand people on the other side."
Fayad says "Won't ever miss an opportunity to inflict pain on the Hand. No. Never."
Fayad says "Cut off all the fingers."
Sam nods again to Lucien, pointing into the deeper darkness. "I think we're about to fight, Mister President." He grins some, lopsidedly so.
Fayad says "I don't know who you are. I don't know where I am. All I know is that I'm going to burn."
"Lovely." Emmanuel drawls out, dryly, grimacing a little. "Oh, and it's their President. The Vampire. Fitting in a way, non?"
Sam says "Oh, hello Emmanuel."
Fayad says "This interrupted my ritual. Sorry. Can try it again after."
"Monsieur Baptiste, you might have found a more fitting place for a dinner date." The Arkwright rolls Lucien's shoulders, turning a glacial gaze about the nightmare's twisting confines.
Fayad says "You know I'm fast at them. Just not that fast."
Sam says "Hmm, not temple, surely? They can't have arcanists, can they?"
"Ah, I am non hungry, hm? I already ate in Hell." Emmanuel comments back into the darkness surrounding he and Fayad, then adding, "Why don't we stop the running and get this done?"
Fayad says "I am Fayad al-Munaqadh, student of Gonthorian the Firestarter, member of no circle."
"..You know when you say it like that? People just use it against you, hm?" Emmanuel notes aside to Fayad in a lower voice then, clucking his tongue softly.
Fayad insists, "That's how it's done in arcane society."
Fayad says "I'm not just going to make up someone I apprenticed under."
Sam says "I mean, Gontharion is kinna losing, isn't he?"
Fayad says "Yes. Thankfully."
Fayad says "I will live to eat the hearts of both dragons."
"..Likely because we crippled his cult, in fact," Emmanuel further adds to that point, and then adds, "This is why you need to show a little more nuance in your words, Fayad."
Lucien looks to Sam, then replies into the darkness, "Monsieur al-Munaqadh, we have no quarrel. Speak into the ether what you wish, and let our Organization push you towards your Destiny."
Fayad says "I want Selina Brightwood dead."
Lucien lets his glacial gaze lower towards what could be either the floor or the ceiling, untelling.
Lucien, pulling the gut-wrought string of his yew bow towards his face, lets loose an arrow roughly the size of a forearm in Emmanuel's direction. "Monsieur al-Munaqadh, we are of one mind in this. Deliver destruction upon Monsieur Baptiste, and let us wring your destiny whole from unwoven cloth." The arrow clings to shadows near Emmanuel without hitting him.
There's a quiet roll of Emmanuel's eyes beneath his mask as he draws up his pistol, rather than the large rifle hanging about his torso, "Fayad is non this stupid, hm? We've killed Brightwood once ourselves, and we'll do so again. All without having to enslave the rest of humanity to do so, hm?" He drawls out, before raising the weapon and firing a radioactive round right at poor Sam, only to follow that up with a grenade before charging in closer to Lucien.
Fayad murmurs, "I owe Emmanuel more than my life." He backs away, nodding to himself as he begins to chant incantation and ritual under his breath. The air around him heats up, and he cradles a small figurine in both hands, running his metal and fleshy arm over it as he paves the path for habitation.
Hissing out, Sam grabs his knife, stabbing out. "Oh, fuck you, emmanuel." He misses, the blade skidding off of Lucien's hammer. "Fuck." The jock scowls, clearly quite discombobulated by the combination radiation and grenades.
"Ey Fayad, wanna share notes on dragon banishing rituals?" He grins some, through obvious pain at that radio-active round.
"Woah," There's a brief moment where all Emmanuel can do is stare in awe-struck wonder as Sam manages to deflect an honest-to-god bullet with just his knife, but soon enough reality starts bleeding back in and the Frenchman follows up the assault of radioactive materials with that of cold steel. He swings his axe with both hands, trying to knock the other fellow over, and out of the fight in quick order.