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Emmellines Ghost Banishing 241130
In the midst of a chaotic encounter at Arkwright Cemetery, Emmelline and her eclectic group of ghost hunters including Iris, Ceryn, Lenny, Elias, and Colton, converge to confront a malevolent spirit manifesting as smoke and infernal creatures. Each member brings their unique skills and magic to the fray, with tactics ranging from blood magic and elemental manipulation to the use of a silver grenade, though some suggestions are more useful than others. Despite the spiraling danger and the appearance of flying demonic monkeys, the group loosely coordinates their efforts under the implicit guidance of Emmelline, who is notably preparing a banishing ritual with a glowing tablet as the focal point.
As the situation escalates with apparitions such as a smoke-formed spider and a spectral knight threatening decapitation, each member of the team employs their individual talents to counteract the ghostly assault. Emmelline endures being ensnared by the spider, only for it to recoil from her tablet. Elias focuses on supplementing the banishment with a storm summoning, drawing the power from around and within, while Colton inadvertently hampers some efforts with his dust storm, albeit aiming to weaken the spirits. Ceryn leverages nature magic to bind ethereal forms, and amidst the chaos, discussions venture into the theoretical reasons behind ghostly presences and the ethics of supernatural clean-ups. Ultimately, Emmelline's determination and the collective efforts culminate in the banishment of the specters, leaving the group to recover and reflect on a job well done amidst idle chatter about future aspirations unrelated to their just-concluded supernatural ordeal.
(Emmelline's ghost banishing)
[Fri Nov 29 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is noon, about 45F(7C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
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.
Marching in with her hands in her vest, Iris looks around and cracks a quick "Heard some noises in my usual saunter on around here,. I thin- Oh."
Ceryn stretches lightly just as the spirit manifests, "Well, at least it's not a spider this time." He murmurs loosely to himself, glancing over to Elias, "Got a usual method?"
Lenny gives the air a quick sniff and shifts his demeanor from playful sleazebag, to serious sleazebag. "This ones a tough one. I hate those flying monkeys." he says, revealing his past experiences with the demon smoke monsters. He begins to ruffle through his duffle bag, struggling to find something
"I do, but I am not going to try to dominate the show, since it seems to have called to her first, hrmm?" Elias offers to Ceryn, glancing over to Emmelline.
Ceryn nods lightly as his gaze settles on Emmelline, "Happy to follow any lead. As long as things don't devolve into a gunfight agian."
Taking in a good whiff of that fiery smell and the demonic goodness presented before her, Iris looks over at Emmelline, uttering "What do I look like? The priest from the exorcist? How doe stop this thing?"
"Why?," Emmelline asks of Elias, "What did you have in mind? No doubt, you have more experience than I," she says simply. As she speaks, she begins preparing the banishing ritual, taking out a small vial of blood with a pipett, and begins carefully dripping the blood onto specific symbols and the like.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Emmelline and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Emmelline into some awful cocoon.
Moving to get a little distance from Emmelline and Elias each, Colton stretches out his hands and concentrates as loose grave earth begins to lift slowly into the air. He's not an arcanist, clearly. He lifts his hands above his head, pressing the heels of his palms loosely together, and begins to turn in slow circles - and then, slowly catching up with his movements, so too does the earth, gradually circling the group in the world's fattest and slowest dust-devil.
Iris shoves a hand into her workbag and pulls out a trusty flashlight, using it to highlight any oddity: like the massive spider that just gave Emmelline a good wrap-up.
Ceryn clicks his tongue as his sight casts up to the smoke, the fellow immediately gagging once the form swirls into a shape of an arachnid. "Fuck- I just had to jinx it." He grumbles, hands reaching up to rub his woad-stained cheeks, "Always damn spiders."
"Alright, then I can start working on the process. Typically, I start with a purification circle. It helps seal it in to the area and then work from there from erasing the psychic presence from the world, but it is hit and miss in this place. I often tend to fight the same spirits or at least appearing to be the same ones at times." Elias explains as he reaches to his belt, pulling out a leather pouch, tugging at the strings that keep it sealed. Opening it up, he starts pouring out a fine white powder onto the ground. He slowly starts walking into a circle, trailing the powdered salt behind him. He glances to Lenny, "Hey, Lenny. It is a psychic presence. I am not sure that is going to work like you want it too, except you know, giving some of a hellva headache." He says with a grunt, the cigar clenched in his teeth.
Cracking an eye at Lenny as he continues to spin, gaining speed, Colton warns, "Don't you hit me with that or I'm going to be fucking useless here. I've got one damn trick when it comes to ghosts." The building speed does seem to translate to the consecrated soil floating around, though it can hardly be described as a whirlwind yet. There's not all that much dirt around, either - this isn't some master of the winds or anyone with power over the earth itself.
A quick glance down at her boots confirms that Iris did in fact put on a pair of good jackboots but they certainly weren't big enough to stomp this kind of spider: maybe a size bigger would've worked. Looking back up and then at the group, Iris calls out "Could always try bullets, that apparently works against most things."
Lenny pulls out a silver grenade from his pack and seems just about ready to activate and chuck it at someone to free her from the spider till Elias intercedes. He grunts and says, "Well fuck you too." before stuffing the grenade back in his pack. He then ribs Colton for his spinning and says, "Are you tryin' to impress this spirit with your ballerina skills"
Lenny pulls out a silver grenade from his pack and seems just about ready to activate and chuck it at Emmelline to free her from the spider till Elias intercedes. He grunts and says, "Well fuck you too." before stuffing the grenade back in his pack. He then ribs Colton for his spinning and says, "Are you tryin' to impress this spirit with your ballerina skills"
Emmelline chortles at Ceryn's words, though that laughter is cut short, as the spirit wraps her up in a cacoon. "Unpleasant, fuck," she says, though she's able to break through it, given it is a ghost, being transparent and all. At Elias's words, she nods for him to go on. "that's fine, I assume that's something similar to a binding ritual," she says, encouraging Elias to continue doing his thing. Then her eyes travel to Colton. "Is that going to make its mark mate?," she asks the man. "I mean it is a ghost, don't things tend to travel through them?" Now over to Iris. "yeah sorry mate, you can leave or watch. Up to you. Sorry you had to stumble upon it. Though... not sure why you were wandering around the cemetery," she says chuckling.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmelline, 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.
Taking a curved knife from his belt, Ceryn pricks both of his thumbs and clenches his fists, causing both of his palms to become slick with blood. "Well, let me know if you need a clear area for the circle, I can do that at least." He says easily to Elias, "Usually the way we did it back home is through coaxing the spirit back into the cycle. Although I don't think I have a practitioner skilled enough for that sort of thing. Is your deal just a standard purification? Usually the view of afterlife matters in my experience, but I imagine you have more."
Iris crossed her arms and gave a sassy nod, answering "What can I say, I was looking for Casper, thought I'd find Romeo and Juliet but turns out I ran into the cast of Hamlet. Plus, let's consider this a teachable moment for me."
"'Sfucking grave dirt," Colton sighs, though he doesn't really have the lung capacity for long explanations with the way he's moving. He's picking up some real damn speed, though, quickly passing what you might expect from a simple human. "Ghosts get stuck in it when they're tired." His little vortex isn't really passing through any of the ghosts yet, though, so not making a mark is exactly what it's doing for now.
"Ah you fuck!" Lenny exclaims as he swats at the monkeys overhead. One manages to nip him on the back of the neck, inflicting pain but no mark. He whirls to swing a fist through the apparition which dissipates it but the victory is fleeting, there is so many more
Once the circle is completed, Elias puts the pouch back onto his belt, seeming to work regardless the fact that Emmelline seems to assailed by the demonic spirits. Once more the dark haired man produces several silver dollar sized stones, with what appears Nordic style glyphs upon them. He works his way, spacing them evening along the salt circle he had just created. Once in place, Elias moves towards the center of the circle, drawing a large bowie knife from its sheath as he states, "Next is the offering of blood. With all in this world and any other, drawing upon power always has a price." And with those words, he draws the blade across his palm, causing a thin line of red to well up to the surface of his palm. He clenches his fist tightly and blood drips through his fingers onto the ground. He does look back to Ceryn to answer his question, "Mine isn't completely standard, since I am not purely a ritualist, I am a stormcaller, which to many, I don't think there is much discernible difference immediately, but the premise is the same."
Emmelline winces with pain as the monkeys descend upon her, though there is no mark made, just the sensation of pain. "One of these days," she says as she tries to regain her composure, "I'd love to have a nice cooperative spirit, that will let me banish them." She lets Elias does his thing, as she continues hers, continuing to drip blood carefully upon various parts of the tabelt, avoiding others. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might think she's making some sort of weird art with very red paint. Though of course, it isn't paint that she is using currently.
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Emmelline, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
"That fae one with the kissing and touching is totally chill." Lenny tells Emmelline with a smirk, "I'm glad we didn't face that one though, cause none of you are my type." then he drifts his gaze over to Iris to check her out briefly before saying, "You'd pass, if I had to kiss someone though."
Iris takes a few steps back from the ghastly apparition attempting to decapitate someone, nearly tripping over a low headstone and laughing a bit to herself at something unsaid.
Perhaps mildly irritating for the arcanists in the cemetery, or maybe even extremely fucking aggravatingly, Colton's faux-dust storm has a habit of blowing crud into freshly spilled blood offerings and just-painted tablets. Whoops. He's got some real speed going now, though, and the funereal earth begins to batter at the surrounding ghosts - at least, the ones that aren't flying overhead like a bunch of assholes. Where specks of dirt and dust tear through the ghosts, little holes form as their spiritual essence is stolen back into the cemetery grounds... just not so much that those holes can't close back over after a moment or two.
Hey, he's not an arcanist. He's an amateur ghost buster at best.
As the droplets of blood hit the ground, the blood reacts with the soil, causing frost to spiral out from them as he starts to chant, "Spirits of the wind, hear me. Spirits of the water, hear me. Spirit of the tempest heed my call. Accept my offering of blood." As Elias chants, the temperature of the air starts to rapidly drop. A mixture of smoke and the condensation of his breath causes a plume of steam and smoke to escape his mouth as he continues, "These beings do not belong here, a blight upon the natural world. Aid me in returning them to where they belong, to allow them to know peace and rest." As he continues to chant, several of the rune stones he placed start to spark, charged with arcane energy.
Emmelline dodges the oncoming sword, and puts her now empty vial away, before she begins concentrating upon the tablet. There is a faint glow that arises from the wooden tablet, though as of yet, it is most likely very typical to see or discern. "hey mate, more care please,' she calls over to Colton, as dirt goes flying everywhere. "I mean this thing fortunately, it's all carved into the wood, so you can't ruin it, but still. Careful," she says, before she resumes her concentration. There is no chanting from her as that of Elias, it is more a focused look that enters her eyes."
Watching on, Ceryn replies in an easy tone to Emmelline, "If they were co-operative, they would have moved on." With an amused huff, he flicks a splatter of blood onto the ground, the grass immediately coiling and writhing around the crimson stain. The grass continues to gather into an knotted, entwined rope, swirling and bursting from the ground as the fellow murmurs a repeating mantra under his breath.
Once it creates enough momentum, the blood-slicked tide of verdant roots spiral around the encroaching spirits, clutching to ethereal forms and holding them in place. "Usually they don't play nice, but you can always make them behave with a bit of tact." He sighs with a light sigh, hand still hovering over the patch of sanguine ground as it collects each drop.
Emmelline dodges the oncoming sword, and puts her now empty vial away, before she begins concentrating upon the tablet. There is a faint glow that arises from the wooden tablet, though as of yet, it is most likely very difficult to see or discern. "hey mate, more care please," she calls over to Colton, as dirt goes flying everywhere. "I mean this thing fortunately, it's all carved into the wood, so you can't ruin it, but still. Careful," she says, before she resumes her concentration. There is no chanting from her as that of Elias, it is more a focused look that enters her eyes.
Using one of the larger tombstones as a nice little bit of cover, Iris watches intently as the Scooby Doo gang tried to banish the ghost, adding a bit to it herself by saying "One does have to wonder what makes these guys so restless to begin with."
From the smoky mist, a circle of hooded figures seem to approach, chanting in unison. At first, they seem to be living people, but as they draw closer to Emmelline it becomes clear they are smoke monsters themselves. They reach out as their chants increase in volume, and it is as if they are sucking the air out of the lungs of everyone present.
As the earthen tendrils writhe and coil around the delayed dead, Ceryn glances over to Iris, "There's a mix of theories." He says, splitting his attention, "I personally ascribe to the idea that it's the timeshifting. Some things that are already dead become shunted out of when they should have been. They forget what they are and what they will be, refusing to return to what they were." The words come out with confidence, despite the cryptic nature of them.
"I mostly think this because it's rare that the spirits are recent dead. Restless recent dead make more sense for your usual suspects." Ceryn shrugs, tacking on as his heel drags a circle into the topsoil.
'I always thought it was unfinished business," Emmelline replies to Ceryn's words to Iris. though her words are cut short, when the hooded figures approach, and she gasps for air. It's a minute, before she regains her breath and can speak again. "Sometimes, ghosts they can't let go of whatever thing they left unfinished before they died, and so they come back as ghosts, unable to move on.""
There is no real notice of Colton's dust storm or any other one else around him as his eyes close, Elias shift his closed eye stare up towards the sky as wind starts to swirl around him. The runestones react to his motion and overhead, the scattering of stormclouds darken, lightning leaping between them as he continues to chant, "Spirits of the Tempest, the glorious storm, I call upon you. Help me strike out and disrupt these tormented spirits from existence." His gray-blue eyes spring open, casting his attention upon the hooded figures that chant around Emmelline.
Unable to really give Emmelline a proper death stare as he twirls around and gives someone and the ghosts front row seats to the ballet show, Colton lets out a subvocal growl and pushes his hands slightly apart. The eye of the storm widens a little - just a little - and the speed of the storm slows in compensation, not quite ripping through the ghosts.
"It's the Arkwrights," he claims, with zero citations upon which to base his claim. "They're sucking the ghost power into their mausoleum to do all kinds of spooky shit." Then he focuses on breathing, mostly. It's a tough job to spin so damn fast.
Unable to really give Emmelline a proper death stare as he twirls around and gives Lenny and the ghosts front row seats to the ballet show, Colton lets out a subvocal growl and pushes his hands slightly apart. The eye of the storm widens a little - just a little - and the speed of the storm slows in compensation, not quite ripping through the ghosts.
"It's the Arkwrights," he claims, with zero citations upon which to base his claim. "They're sucking the ghost power into their mausoleum to do all kinds of spooky shit." Then he focuses on breathing, mostly. It's a tough job to spin so damn fast.
Ceryn hitches a light shrug to Emmelline, "I'd agree with you, but sometimes you find the delayed dead completely out of place or out of time. I've seen knights and all sorts in this graveyard, not sure why there'd be knights in america."
Iris gives a few nods to the explanations, answering with "Plenty of answers, not sure which is true though." With that said, Iris gasps a few times, reaching with her hand up to her chest and holding it against it, trying to catch her breath before someone else caught it.
Lenny hasn't really contributed, nor done much harm since he didn't end up throwing his naturalizing grenade. At best he's just taunted the others. When it comes to the question as to why there are so many spirits. He puts his two cents in, "It's the gates that give power to the supernatural, there's basically ghost all over the world. But its only here that they have enough power laying around to manifest anything."
"You don't know," Emmelline says with a soft chuckle at Ceryn, as she continues her mental concentration. There is now a noticeable glow coming from the wooden tablet. It is stil faint, but definitely there this time. "There were explorers from England, that came to America. I imagine some of them could have been knights," she says with a shrug of her shoulders, her tone entirely conversational.
"Shit's older than the gates," Colton argues, battering down the circle of cinereal spectres in particular with a barrage of dirt pellets that siphon off some of their excess smokiness. He needed that air, damn it. "Gates are just where the fuckin' wizards get their power."
"What a romantic idea!" Ceryn chuckled to Emmelline, "Someone should write a book about that." He winks before turning his attentions to the soil, the blood dripping from his glove gathering in the recess of the circle as the grasses twist and beckon. "Maybe I'd do it, I've always wanted to write a book, but I'm not so good with words..." The fellow continues to muse, eyes hidden by the messy cascade of braids that's sent awry by Elias's winds.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Emmelline and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Emmelline into some awful cocoon.
"Haven's not a popular place just cause wizards get their power here. All you fuckin' supers get stronger here." Lenny argues back at Colton, showing some disdain. "What happens when you shut the gates with a cleanse huh? You go powerless."
"Fuck this bloody cacoon," Emmelline says, as she's wrapped up in the cacoon. though as the cacoon touches her tablet, it recoils, as if touching something red hot. She uses this to break free from it. With each passing moment, the glow from the tablet grows stronger and brighter, though the effort appears to be tiring the woman, judging from the weary look that flashes across her countenance from time to time. To Ceryn she replies, "Ah well, if you have the notion to write, you should do it. Others can help you edit, revise your words and the like,' she says encouragingly to the man."
Glancing over at Emmelline, Iris can't help but smile, deciding to step on in and try to pull at the webbing. "Let's give you a hand with that stuff, I'm starting to think you're a fly."
"Starting a fight in a cemetery is bad karma." Ceryn sighs, attention drawn over to Colton and Lenny, "Grievances stick to the soil and gather into a quagmire of ill will. Should temper your emotions."
"Bro," Colton wheezes, and the storm slows a little as he focuses more of his attention onto the debate than he is with the ghosts. Spider ghosts aren't fucking with /him/, not his problem. "The gods made the gates. But the power to create gods came first." He takes a deep breath, slows more, then continues ranting, "You Temple fucks and your goddamn cleanses are such a pain in the ass. You think all that shit does is close the gates? Come find me next cleanse and I'll stick your damn grenades down your throat."
While there are debates on the source of magic and pretty much everything else beyond the task at hand, Elias remains focused on the spirit as it torments Emmelline. While there is no overall expression on his face beyond determination and the smoke rolling off of his cigar, the dark haired stormcaller reaches his hand out towards the advancing demonic spirit as several of the runestones arc lightning between each other, helping reinforce the circle he has created, "Spirits of the blizzard, the storm, aid me in removing this blight from this world!" He calls out fiercely as he works.
"Don't think I need to wait for a cleanse if I want to come find you." Lenny snerks as he acts a bit tough around Colton. "But I'm not in a mood for that shit today."
"Not everyone knows how to read, but it isn't the time for who understands history or not." Elias calls off over to Colton as he battles with the spirit.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmelline with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
"Hey can we all just calm down?," Emmelline calls to Colton and Lenny. 'We're almost done here. Then we all can go about our day." That done, she returns her concentration to her tablet, the glow growing more and more powerful. She turns the tablet away from her, so the symbols and shapres are facing outwards, and towards the spirits. Each time the spirits draw close to her or the tablet, it seems to do something to them, for they recoil from it. The work isn't done, as she continues her mental efforts in banishing the ghosts."
"Fuck this bloody cacoon," Emmelline says, as she's wrapped up in the cacoon. though as the cacoon touches her tablet, it recoils, as if touching something red hot. She uses this to break free from it. With each passing moment, the glow from the tablet grows stronger and brighter, though the effort appears to be tiring the woman, judging from the weary look that flashes across her countenance from time to time. To Ceryn she replies, "Ah well, if you have the notion to write, you should do it. Others can help you edit, revise your words and the like," she says encouragingly to the man. repose in case Ceryn missed it.
Whether or not the gates to worlds not actually populated by the gods were made by gods or not, Colton seems quite firm in his convictions, and takes this opposition to somehow confirm his beliefs as a wise, venerable and knowledgeable, but wrongfully persecuted minority in the face of the Temple.
"Yeah, yeah," Colton sighs, getting back to his spinning with gusto. It does, at least, have some merit - the grave dirt really does suck away some of the spirits' strength with it, making them more and more susceptible to a handy-dandy banishing ritual. Maybe he knows /some/ stuff.
"Perhaps! I do want to open that book store, I just need to straighten out my finances and find a roommate." Ceryn muses to Emmelline, tone completely contrasting the argument going on, "But if you think I should give it a go, maybe I will! Can be a long-term project once I get the Owl's Nest up and running."
Iris says "A book store sounds like a great idea."
'You're planning to open a bookstore?," Emmelline asks of Ceryn curiously. 'Interesting, so is my boyfriend. We were thinking of opening towards the end of December," she explains. "Right around Christmas time. Though... it won't be a proper bookstore as such. Man loves his horror, and so he'll be focusing on stocking horror genre books and the like. Not to my taste, but he loves it," she says with a soft chuckle.
"I was thinking more of something cozy. Maybe have a little garden, an area for reading as much as buying books honestly. Maybe I'll just stick it as a cafe with an area for selling books?" Ceryn considers with a twist to his lip, "I'd hate to give someone competition." He admits to Emmelline.
"No it's fine," Emmelline says with a smile to Ceryn. 'You're going for a totally different vibe. My boyfriend, he loves horror see. So he'll have horror related posters, movie nights, those types of things. He'll stock books, specifically in the horror genre," she explains. "It's very targetted, but I'll be running the cafe portion. I'm trying to have my own catering business see,' she says, her tone conversational to Ceryn. "So really, I'm sure it'd be fine. perhaps we can even have a partnership of some kind. Sponsor each other's events. It need not be competition."
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 situation escalates with apparitions such as a smoke-formed spider and a spectral knight threatening decapitation, each member of the team employs their individual talents to counteract the ghostly assault. Emmelline endures being ensnared by the spider, only for it to recoil from her tablet. Elias focuses on supplementing the banishment with a storm summoning, drawing the power from around and within, while Colton inadvertently hampers some efforts with his dust storm, albeit aiming to weaken the spirits. Ceryn leverages nature magic to bind ethereal forms, and amidst the chaos, discussions venture into the theoretical reasons behind ghostly presences and the ethics of supernatural clean-ups. Ultimately, Emmelline's determination and the collective efforts culminate in the banishment of the specters, leaving the group to recover and reflect on a job well done amidst idle chatter about future aspirations unrelated to their just-concluded supernatural ordeal.
(Emmelline's ghost banishing)
[Fri Nov 29 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is noon, about 45F(7C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
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.
Marching in with her hands in her vest, Iris looks around and cracks a quick "Heard some noises in my usual saunter on around here,. I thin- Oh."
Ceryn stretches lightly just as the spirit manifests, "Well, at least it's not a spider this time." He murmurs loosely to himself, glancing over to Elias, "Got a usual method?"
Lenny gives the air a quick sniff and shifts his demeanor from playful sleazebag, to serious sleazebag. "This ones a tough one. I hate those flying monkeys." he says, revealing his past experiences with the demon smoke monsters. He begins to ruffle through his duffle bag, struggling to find something
"I do, but I am not going to try to dominate the show, since it seems to have called to her first, hrmm?" Elias offers to Ceryn, glancing over to Emmelline.
Ceryn nods lightly as his gaze settles on Emmelline, "Happy to follow any lead. As long as things don't devolve into a gunfight agian."
Taking in a good whiff of that fiery smell and the demonic goodness presented before her, Iris looks over at Emmelline, uttering "What do I look like? The priest from the exorcist? How doe stop this thing?"
"Why?," Emmelline asks of Elias, "What did you have in mind? No doubt, you have more experience than I," she says simply. As she speaks, she begins preparing the banishing ritual, taking out a small vial of blood with a pipett, and begins carefully dripping the blood onto specific symbols and the like.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Emmelline and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Emmelline into some awful cocoon.
Moving to get a little distance from Emmelline and Elias each, Colton stretches out his hands and concentrates as loose grave earth begins to lift slowly into the air. He's not an arcanist, clearly. He lifts his hands above his head, pressing the heels of his palms loosely together, and begins to turn in slow circles - and then, slowly catching up with his movements, so too does the earth, gradually circling the group in the world's fattest and slowest dust-devil.
Iris shoves a hand into her workbag and pulls out a trusty flashlight, using it to highlight any oddity: like the massive spider that just gave Emmelline a good wrap-up.
Ceryn clicks his tongue as his sight casts up to the smoke, the fellow immediately gagging once the form swirls into a shape of an arachnid. "Fuck- I just had to jinx it." He grumbles, hands reaching up to rub his woad-stained cheeks, "Always damn spiders."
"Alright, then I can start working on the process. Typically, I start with a purification circle. It helps seal it in to the area and then work from there from erasing the psychic presence from the world, but it is hit and miss in this place. I often tend to fight the same spirits or at least appearing to be the same ones at times." Elias explains as he reaches to his belt, pulling out a leather pouch, tugging at the strings that keep it sealed. Opening it up, he starts pouring out a fine white powder onto the ground. He slowly starts walking into a circle, trailing the powdered salt behind him. He glances to Lenny, "Hey, Lenny. It is a psychic presence. I am not sure that is going to work like you want it too, except you know, giving some of a hellva headache." He says with a grunt, the cigar clenched in his teeth.
Cracking an eye at Lenny as he continues to spin, gaining speed, Colton warns, "Don't you hit me with that or I'm going to be fucking useless here. I've got one damn trick when it comes to ghosts." The building speed does seem to translate to the consecrated soil floating around, though it can hardly be described as a whirlwind yet. There's not all that much dirt around, either - this isn't some master of the winds or anyone with power over the earth itself.
A quick glance down at her boots confirms that Iris did in fact put on a pair of good jackboots but they certainly weren't big enough to stomp this kind of spider: maybe a size bigger would've worked. Looking back up and then at the group, Iris calls out "Could always try bullets, that apparently works against most things."
Lenny pulls out a silver grenade from his pack and seems just about ready to activate and chuck it at someone to free her from the spider till Elias intercedes. He grunts and says, "Well fuck you too." before stuffing the grenade back in his pack. He then ribs Colton for his spinning and says, "Are you tryin' to impress this spirit with your ballerina skills"
Lenny pulls out a silver grenade from his pack and seems just about ready to activate and chuck it at Emmelline to free her from the spider till Elias intercedes. He grunts and says, "Well fuck you too." before stuffing the grenade back in his pack. He then ribs Colton for his spinning and says, "Are you tryin' to impress this spirit with your ballerina skills"
Emmelline chortles at Ceryn's words, though that laughter is cut short, as the spirit wraps her up in a cacoon. "Unpleasant, fuck," she says, though she's able to break through it, given it is a ghost, being transparent and all. At Elias's words, she nods for him to go on. "that's fine, I assume that's something similar to a binding ritual," she says, encouraging Elias to continue doing his thing. Then her eyes travel to Colton. "Is that going to make its mark mate?," she asks the man. "I mean it is a ghost, don't things tend to travel through them?" Now over to Iris. "yeah sorry mate, you can leave or watch. Up to you. Sorry you had to stumble upon it. Though... not sure why you were wandering around the cemetery," she says chuckling.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Emmelline, 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.
Taking a curved knife from his belt, Ceryn pricks both of his thumbs and clenches his fists, causing both of his palms to become slick with blood. "Well, let me know if you need a clear area for the circle, I can do that at least." He says easily to Elias, "Usually the way we did it back home is through coaxing the spirit back into the cycle. Although I don't think I have a practitioner skilled enough for that sort of thing. Is your deal just a standard purification? Usually the view of afterlife matters in my experience, but I imagine you have more."
Iris crossed her arms and gave a sassy nod, answering "What can I say, I was looking for Casper, thought I'd find Romeo and Juliet but turns out I ran into the cast of Hamlet. Plus, let's consider this a teachable moment for me."
"'Sfucking grave dirt," Colton sighs, though he doesn't really have the lung capacity for long explanations with the way he's moving. He's picking up some real damn speed, though, quickly passing what you might expect from a simple human. "Ghosts get stuck in it when they're tired." His little vortex isn't really passing through any of the ghosts yet, though, so not making a mark is exactly what it's doing for now.
"Ah you fuck!" Lenny exclaims as he swats at the monkeys overhead. One manages to nip him on the back of the neck, inflicting pain but no mark. He whirls to swing a fist through the apparition which dissipates it but the victory is fleeting, there is so many more
Once the circle is completed, Elias puts the pouch back onto his belt, seeming to work regardless the fact that Emmelline seems to assailed by the demonic spirits. Once more the dark haired man produces several silver dollar sized stones, with what appears Nordic style glyphs upon them. He works his way, spacing them evening along the salt circle he had just created. Once in place, Elias moves towards the center of the circle, drawing a large bowie knife from its sheath as he states, "Next is the offering of blood. With all in this world and any other, drawing upon power always has a price." And with those words, he draws the blade across his palm, causing a thin line of red to well up to the surface of his palm. He clenches his fist tightly and blood drips through his fingers onto the ground. He does look back to Ceryn to answer his question, "Mine isn't completely standard, since I am not purely a ritualist, I am a stormcaller, which to many, I don't think there is much discernible difference immediately, but the premise is the same."
Emmelline winces with pain as the monkeys descend upon her, though there is no mark made, just the sensation of pain. "One of these days," she says as she tries to regain her composure, "I'd love to have a nice cooperative spirit, that will let me banish them." She lets Elias does his thing, as she continues hers, continuing to drip blood carefully upon various parts of the tabelt, avoiding others. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might think she's making some sort of weird art with very red paint. Though of course, it isn't paint that she is using currently.
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Emmelline, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
"That fae one with the kissing and touching is totally chill." Lenny tells Emmelline with a smirk, "I'm glad we didn't face that one though, cause none of you are my type." then he drifts his gaze over to Iris to check her out briefly before saying, "You'd pass, if I had to kiss someone though."
Iris takes a few steps back from the ghastly apparition attempting to decapitate someone, nearly tripping over a low headstone and laughing a bit to herself at something unsaid.
Perhaps mildly irritating for the arcanists in the cemetery, or maybe even extremely fucking aggravatingly, Colton's faux-dust storm has a habit of blowing crud into freshly spilled blood offerings and just-painted tablets. Whoops. He's got some real speed going now, though, and the funereal earth begins to batter at the surrounding ghosts - at least, the ones that aren't flying overhead like a bunch of assholes. Where specks of dirt and dust tear through the ghosts, little holes form as their spiritual essence is stolen back into the cemetery grounds... just not so much that those holes can't close back over after a moment or two.
Hey, he's not an arcanist. He's an amateur ghost buster at best.
As the droplets of blood hit the ground, the blood reacts with the soil, causing frost to spiral out from them as he starts to chant, "Spirits of the wind, hear me. Spirits of the water, hear me. Spirit of the tempest heed my call. Accept my offering of blood." As Elias chants, the temperature of the air starts to rapidly drop. A mixture of smoke and the condensation of his breath causes a plume of steam and smoke to escape his mouth as he continues, "These beings do not belong here, a blight upon the natural world. Aid me in returning them to where they belong, to allow them to know peace and rest." As he continues to chant, several of the rune stones he placed start to spark, charged with arcane energy.
Emmelline dodges the oncoming sword, and puts her now empty vial away, before she begins concentrating upon the tablet. There is a faint glow that arises from the wooden tablet, though as of yet, it is most likely very typical to see or discern. "hey mate, more care please,' she calls over to Colton, as dirt goes flying everywhere. "I mean this thing fortunately, it's all carved into the wood, so you can't ruin it, but still. Careful," she says, before she resumes her concentration. There is no chanting from her as that of Elias, it is more a focused look that enters her eyes."
Watching on, Ceryn replies in an easy tone to Emmelline, "If they were co-operative, they would have moved on." With an amused huff, he flicks a splatter of blood onto the ground, the grass immediately coiling and writhing around the crimson stain. The grass continues to gather into an knotted, entwined rope, swirling and bursting from the ground as the fellow murmurs a repeating mantra under his breath.
Once it creates enough momentum, the blood-slicked tide of verdant roots spiral around the encroaching spirits, clutching to ethereal forms and holding them in place. "Usually they don't play nice, but you can always make them behave with a bit of tact." He sighs with a light sigh, hand still hovering over the patch of sanguine ground as it collects each drop.
Emmelline dodges the oncoming sword, and puts her now empty vial away, before she begins concentrating upon the tablet. There is a faint glow that arises from the wooden tablet, though as of yet, it is most likely very difficult to see or discern. "hey mate, more care please," she calls over to Colton, as dirt goes flying everywhere. "I mean this thing fortunately, it's all carved into the wood, so you can't ruin it, but still. Careful," she says, before she resumes her concentration. There is no chanting from her as that of Elias, it is more a focused look that enters her eyes.
Using one of the larger tombstones as a nice little bit of cover, Iris watches intently as the Scooby Doo gang tried to banish the ghost, adding a bit to it herself by saying "One does have to wonder what makes these guys so restless to begin with."
From the smoky mist, a circle of hooded figures seem to approach, chanting in unison. At first, they seem to be living people, but as they draw closer to Emmelline it becomes clear they are smoke monsters themselves. They reach out as their chants increase in volume, and it is as if they are sucking the air out of the lungs of everyone present.
As the earthen tendrils writhe and coil around the delayed dead, Ceryn glances over to Iris, "There's a mix of theories." He says, splitting his attention, "I personally ascribe to the idea that it's the timeshifting. Some things that are already dead become shunted out of when they should have been. They forget what they are and what they will be, refusing to return to what they were." The words come out with confidence, despite the cryptic nature of them.
"I mostly think this because it's rare that the spirits are recent dead. Restless recent dead make more sense for your usual suspects." Ceryn shrugs, tacking on as his heel drags a circle into the topsoil.
'I always thought it was unfinished business," Emmelline replies to Ceryn's words to Iris. though her words are cut short, when the hooded figures approach, and she gasps for air. It's a minute, before she regains her breath and can speak again. "Sometimes, ghosts they can't let go of whatever thing they left unfinished before they died, and so they come back as ghosts, unable to move on.""
There is no real notice of Colton's dust storm or any other one else around him as his eyes close, Elias shift his closed eye stare up towards the sky as wind starts to swirl around him. The runestones react to his motion and overhead, the scattering of stormclouds darken, lightning leaping between them as he continues to chant, "Spirits of the Tempest, the glorious storm, I call upon you. Help me strike out and disrupt these tormented spirits from existence." His gray-blue eyes spring open, casting his attention upon the hooded figures that chant around Emmelline.
Unable to really give Emmelline a proper death stare as he twirls around and gives someone and the ghosts front row seats to the ballet show, Colton lets out a subvocal growl and pushes his hands slightly apart. The eye of the storm widens a little - just a little - and the speed of the storm slows in compensation, not quite ripping through the ghosts.
"It's the Arkwrights," he claims, with zero citations upon which to base his claim. "They're sucking the ghost power into their mausoleum to do all kinds of spooky shit." Then he focuses on breathing, mostly. It's a tough job to spin so damn fast.
Unable to really give Emmelline a proper death stare as he twirls around and gives Lenny and the ghosts front row seats to the ballet show, Colton lets out a subvocal growl and pushes his hands slightly apart. The eye of the storm widens a little - just a little - and the speed of the storm slows in compensation, not quite ripping through the ghosts.
"It's the Arkwrights," he claims, with zero citations upon which to base his claim. "They're sucking the ghost power into their mausoleum to do all kinds of spooky shit." Then he focuses on breathing, mostly. It's a tough job to spin so damn fast.
Ceryn hitches a light shrug to Emmelline, "I'd agree with you, but sometimes you find the delayed dead completely out of place or out of time. I've seen knights and all sorts in this graveyard, not sure why there'd be knights in america."
Iris gives a few nods to the explanations, answering with "Plenty of answers, not sure which is true though." With that said, Iris gasps a few times, reaching with her hand up to her chest and holding it against it, trying to catch her breath before someone else caught it.
Lenny hasn't really contributed, nor done much harm since he didn't end up throwing his naturalizing grenade. At best he's just taunted the others. When it comes to the question as to why there are so many spirits. He puts his two cents in, "It's the gates that give power to the supernatural, there's basically ghost all over the world. But its only here that they have enough power laying around to manifest anything."
"You don't know," Emmelline says with a soft chuckle at Ceryn, as she continues her mental concentration. There is now a noticeable glow coming from the wooden tablet. It is stil faint, but definitely there this time. "There were explorers from England, that came to America. I imagine some of them could have been knights," she says with a shrug of her shoulders, her tone entirely conversational.
"Shit's older than the gates," Colton argues, battering down the circle of cinereal spectres in particular with a barrage of dirt pellets that siphon off some of their excess smokiness. He needed that air, damn it. "Gates are just where the fuckin' wizards get their power."
"What a romantic idea!" Ceryn chuckled to Emmelline, "Someone should write a book about that." He winks before turning his attentions to the soil, the blood dripping from his glove gathering in the recess of the circle as the grasses twist and beckon. "Maybe I'd do it, I've always wanted to write a book, but I'm not so good with words..." The fellow continues to muse, eyes hidden by the messy cascade of braids that's sent awry by Elias's winds.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Emmelline and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Emmelline into some awful cocoon.
"Haven's not a popular place just cause wizards get their power here. All you fuckin' supers get stronger here." Lenny argues back at Colton, showing some disdain. "What happens when you shut the gates with a cleanse huh? You go powerless."
"Fuck this bloody cacoon," Emmelline says, as she's wrapped up in the cacoon. though as the cacoon touches her tablet, it recoils, as if touching something red hot. She uses this to break free from it. With each passing moment, the glow from the tablet grows stronger and brighter, though the effort appears to be tiring the woman, judging from the weary look that flashes across her countenance from time to time. To Ceryn she replies, "Ah well, if you have the notion to write, you should do it. Others can help you edit, revise your words and the like,' she says encouragingly to the man."
Glancing over at Emmelline, Iris can't help but smile, deciding to step on in and try to pull at the webbing. "Let's give you a hand with that stuff, I'm starting to think you're a fly."
"Starting a fight in a cemetery is bad karma." Ceryn sighs, attention drawn over to Colton and Lenny, "Grievances stick to the soil and gather into a quagmire of ill will. Should temper your emotions."
"Bro," Colton wheezes, and the storm slows a little as he focuses more of his attention onto the debate than he is with the ghosts. Spider ghosts aren't fucking with /him/, not his problem. "The gods made the gates. But the power to create gods came first." He takes a deep breath, slows more, then continues ranting, "You Temple fucks and your goddamn cleanses are such a pain in the ass. You think all that shit does is close the gates? Come find me next cleanse and I'll stick your damn grenades down your throat."
While there are debates on the source of magic and pretty much everything else beyond the task at hand, Elias remains focused on the spirit as it torments Emmelline. While there is no overall expression on his face beyond determination and the smoke rolling off of his cigar, the dark haired stormcaller reaches his hand out towards the advancing demonic spirit as several of the runestones arc lightning between each other, helping reinforce the circle he has created, "Spirits of the blizzard, the storm, aid me in removing this blight from this world!" He calls out fiercely as he works.
"Don't think I need to wait for a cleanse if I want to come find you." Lenny snerks as he acts a bit tough around Colton. "But I'm not in a mood for that shit today."
"Not everyone knows how to read, but it isn't the time for who understands history or not." Elias calls off over to Colton as he battles with the spirit.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Emmelline with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
"Hey can we all just calm down?," Emmelline calls to Colton and Lenny. 'We're almost done here. Then we all can go about our day." That done, she returns her concentration to her tablet, the glow growing more and more powerful. She turns the tablet away from her, so the symbols and shapres are facing outwards, and towards the spirits. Each time the spirits draw close to her or the tablet, it seems to do something to them, for they recoil from it. The work isn't done, as she continues her mental efforts in banishing the ghosts."
"Fuck this bloody cacoon," Emmelline says, as she's wrapped up in the cacoon. though as the cacoon touches her tablet, it recoils, as if touching something red hot. She uses this to break free from it. With each passing moment, the glow from the tablet grows stronger and brighter, though the effort appears to be tiring the woman, judging from the weary look that flashes across her countenance from time to time. To Ceryn she replies, "Ah well, if you have the notion to write, you should do it. Others can help you edit, revise your words and the like," she says encouragingly to the man. repose in case Ceryn missed it.
Whether or not the gates to worlds not actually populated by the gods were made by gods or not, Colton seems quite firm in his convictions, and takes this opposition to somehow confirm his beliefs as a wise, venerable and knowledgeable, but wrongfully persecuted minority in the face of the Temple.
"Yeah, yeah," Colton sighs, getting back to his spinning with gusto. It does, at least, have some merit - the grave dirt really does suck away some of the spirits' strength with it, making them more and more susceptible to a handy-dandy banishing ritual. Maybe he knows /some/ stuff.
"Perhaps! I do want to open that book store, I just need to straighten out my finances and find a roommate." Ceryn muses to Emmelline, tone completely contrasting the argument going on, "But if you think I should give it a go, maybe I will! Can be a long-term project once I get the Owl's Nest up and running."
Iris says "A book store sounds like a great idea."
'You're planning to open a bookstore?," Emmelline asks of Ceryn curiously. 'Interesting, so is my boyfriend. We were thinking of opening towards the end of December," she explains. "Right around Christmas time. Though... it won't be a proper bookstore as such. Man loves his horror, and so he'll be focusing on stocking horror genre books and the like. Not to my taste, but he loves it," she says with a soft chuckle.
"I was thinking more of something cozy. Maybe have a little garden, an area for reading as much as buying books honestly. Maybe I'll just stick it as a cafe with an area for selling books?" Ceryn considers with a twist to his lip, "I'd hate to give someone competition." He admits to Emmelline.
"No it's fine," Emmelline says with a smile to Ceryn. 'You're going for a totally different vibe. My boyfriend, he loves horror see. So he'll have horror related posters, movie nights, those types of things. He'll stock books, specifically in the horror genre," she explains. "It's very targetted, but I'll be running the cafe portion. I'm trying to have my own catering business see,' she says, her tone conversational to Ceryn. "So really, I'm sure it'd be fine. perhaps we can even have a partnership of some kind. Sponsor each other's events. It need not be competition."
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.