Patrollogs
Fayads Ghost Banishing 240828
Upon a heated afternoon at the Arkwright Cemetery, an unexpected and eerie piano melody heralds the appearance of three spectral pirates, launching the graveyard into chaos. Korina, unimpressed by the ghostly buccaneers, tells Fayad to stay behind for a talk once the ordeal is over, hinting at unresolved tension between them. Despite the looming threat, she refrains from intervening, choosing to watch the ghosts' attack unfold with a detached curiosity. Harriet, on the other hand, focuses on self-protection, crafting a circle of Celtic sea salt around herself while casting a whimsical, if not odd, offer of hydration towards Korina in the form of her saliva after admitting she forgot to bring water. As Fayad struggles against the specters, absorbing ethereal bullets with a mix of determination and grit, his distaste for Korina's inaction becomes evident, especially when she casually critiques his efforts while consuming beef jerky with an air of royalty.
The battle reaches its climax as Fayad, the focus of the ghostly assault, employs his pyromantic talents to deteriorate the ectoplasmic forms of his assailants, despite Korina's provocations and Harriet's unconventional support. The specters, unable to withstand the relentless arcane onslaught, converge into a spiraling maelstrom, encapsulating themselves within a swiftly spinning circle accompanied by ghostly orchestral music before disappearing into the earth from whence they came. Amid the aftermath, Korina's demand for fresher meat from Harriet and the latter's mention of a crown suggest a sense of normalcy returning to their bizarre camaraderie, even as Fayad rebukes Korina's lack of assistance with visible frustration. In the end, despite the specters' banishment, the grave site bears witness to unresolved conflicts and a peculiar interplay of personalities, each dealing with the supernatural intrusion in their unique way.
(Fayad's ghost banishing)
[Fri Aug 16 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is noon, about 80F(26C) degrees,
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
Not these fuckers again. Korina hisses at the pirate trio too, not seeming very impressed at all. "Stay behind after this is over," she tells Fayad with an innocent blink, refraining from doing anything to help for the time being maybe so that she can watch the pirates try to stab Fayad a little bit. "We will have a nice talk."
Harriet certainly is not trying to get involved in the ongoing drama between Korina and Fayad, and she most definitely dismissed it all for that very reason. Her throat clears upon hearing the music begin to eerily waft in its ethereal notes through the grounds of the graveyard, and she retrieves her trusty bag of Celtic sea salt from her handbag. As she opens it, a glance is given about the area, but then she's peering back into her purse. A piece of beef jerky is retrieved, inspected, and then tossed right at Korina's face like that was the most natural thing to do with the stale meat.
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
"Not interested," Fayad replies to Korina. "You tore up all of my books. Some of those were first editions," he glares, too distracted by his hatred for Korina that he gets nailed right in the left shoulder, taking a few steps back. He grumbles, and then raises his arm, the talons attached to the fingertips beginning to glow red hot as he plucks upon the strands of arcana in the air utilizing it as a focus. Fayad's gaudy implement seems to be for more than show, it seems, as he exhibits a level of pyromantic mastery above his usual to attempt to burn away at the very ectoplasm of the spectres, slowly, causing them to scream and focus upon Fayad in their melodramatic undeath.
Korina sees the meat coming and jumps to catch it right in her mouth. She then almost chokes on the piece of jerky, letting out a hacking cough and hunching over as she tries to dislodge it.
A lot of hacking and coughing and half-dying later, Korina turns slightly moistened eyes Harriet's way. "You should stay behind too," she rasps, clearing her throat, composing herself again, and apparently not taking Fayad's answer as a no.
A very audible, "Oof," escapes Harriet's mouth as Fayad gets attacked by one of the ghosts, even if it is only a spectral assault. There is compassion in her hazel gaze, but then she's sprinkling the light grey grains of salt about herself in a circular pattern, trying to ensure her own protection. "Good girl," she coos out to Korina when she catches the jerky, even if she's choked on it. "I knew you were talented." A cautious glance is given to the pirates, then she's back to speaking to Korina, "I love a good chat," in response to what was suggested to her.
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Fayad to keep him in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Korina ends up seated on a tiny patch of grass between some old graves, a circle of light formed by her own magic a boundary around her like the circle of salt is around Harriet, and she watches the dual-knife wielder hold Fayad still by the feet as though she's spectating a sport of some sort, a little, "Yeah, get 'em!" escaping her between munches of jerky. There's a lot of chewing left to do now that she's not actively choking anymore. If the pyromancer's earlier words have had any effect on her at all, it doesn't show; she's just sitting, casual as ever.
Fayad grunts in pain but stoically takes it, disregarding the two women who are focused on self-protection to quite literally fight the ghosts. He parries the cutlass with his golden claw from his enforced stand-still, perspiring as he works, the metal heated red-hot at the talontips as it slices against the ectoplasm, slowly whittling away at the opposing edge itself.
"Are you not some kind of powerful arcanist?" Harriet wonders of Korina aloud as she watches the other woman sit in the grass and only eating the beef jerky. "I am not trained in any sort of magic at all -- but I am often told that I am quite 'magical,'" she shares openly, squinting over at Fayad as he fights one of the ghosts. "Clever," gets decided of his weapon of choice. Next, she's grabbing a handful of her beloved Celtic sea salt and throws it at the dual-knife wielding spirit, but it also has the little grains spraying Fayad as well -- for his protection, of course.
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
It's not really that Korina is interested in self-preservation as much as she's simply being interested in watching Fayad getting beaten around some. Surely she cannot be blamed for this, after she's been treated to such harsh looks since the man's arrival here - entirely unprovoked, at that! She turns her attention to Harriet with a blink now, tilting her head to a side while she continues to chew and chew and chew and...
"You should get me fresher meat next time," she demands of the woman, and then says, "I guess I am alright. Why do you ask?"
Burning in his beady dark eyes under the sulfurous glare of the noon sun, Harriet's salt frees Fayad's feet just as Fayad takes another shot to the shoulder, grunting, the man engaging in mystic and physical warfare with the ghosts, stumbling across the gravestones as he gets his balance back upon the grass.
Korina says "She was always planning on leaving soon, I think."
Whilst tossing salt Fayad's way, maybe helpfully -- maybe not, Harriet is listening to Korina. She nods slowly, and apologises in a heartfelt manner through the words, "I am sorry that the meat was not fresh, but it was either going to go to you, or go into the trash." Yum. "So, I thought I would give you first dibs. I'll find some fresher things." With that, she's poking about her handbag once again, just in case she has any other long forgotten treats that had spilled out of their original containers. It seems there is not more food items past their best within the purse. "You should wear your crown next time," comes in a demand of her own, nodding to Korina's head. "Oh, I simply asked because I think you are fully capable of banishing these spirits back to whence they came."
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"Oh." Korina states eloquently regarding Harriet's reasoning. "I am." She's definitely capable. No doubt about it. "You should tell me when you are coming to one of these, so I remember to wear my crown." It's Harriet's responsibility, of course, to remember both crown and meat. She doesn't take offense to eating food that was going to go to the trash, so long as it doesn't smell downright rotten.
And then, finally, Korina's forced to move out of her comfortably grassy spot to duck behind the nearest gravestone as the flintlock wielder starts his hail of bullets, letting out a quiet little yelp followed by an annoyed grumble at her relaxation and free entertainment being disrupted.
Fayad doesn't seem to feel entitled to Korina's aid, at least, understanding that the suffering is the point. Korina probably even only shows up to these to watch people get beaten up by ghosts. And getting beaten up by ghosts is definitely what Fayad is doing, dropping to the ground and then getting covered in salt as if debris from gravestones shattered by bullets were breaking over his back. How action-moviey!
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
Upon seeing the flintlock wielder preparing to shoot repeatedly, Harriet squats like a pro before dropping to the ground and looking like she's about to perform a bunch of push-ups, letting the spray pass right by. She's calling after Korina, "Noted, I will be sure to inform you next time. The world deserves to know you are royaly, and you deserve to be recognised." After all, that is the image that one invokes in others when wearing a paper Burger King crown that came with a kid's meal from a world wide fast food chain... Right? This tall brunette seems to think so, at least based on her words. Once Fayad becomes the main attraction, at least in the ghosts' minds, she's hopping back up to her feet and tossing more grey grains towards the Egyptian.
Once the flintlock wielder has sprayed his load and now only has the one bullet to spare for Fayad, Korina peeks out from behind her gravestone, checking if the coast is clear. "I am thirsty now," she claims - it may or may not have something to do with the jerky she's finished while hiding during the bullet-storm. "Did you bring water?" That's for Harriet - she probably wouldn't trust anything Fayad gives her. Though she does, then, stop to tell him, "Banish them faster. This is taking too long." One can only wonder why.
Korina says "Who? "
Korina says "Huh. "
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Fayad to keep him in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Fayad groans as he tries to get to his feet but is stopped entirely by the renewed attack by the metaphorical knife juggler. "If you're not going to help, at least stay silent!", he complains, distracted enough by Korina that he gets shot again. "Fuck", he says, shoulder jerking backwards.
"I did not bring any water," Harriet admits to Korina. After all, she did no even realise she'd brought jerky until she found that stray piece in the bottom of her purse. "But I do have plenty of saliva," is said in perhaps an offer to hydrate the female across from her in a rather unconventional method. Shoulders raise and then fall. "Sam told me yesterday that no one is allowed to hump my leg, but she did not say anything against me spitting into someone's mouth to ensure they do not die of dehydration." Why would her girlfriend tell her no one could hump her leg? That's probably quite a story. Why would that some woman ever think to tell Harriet that she can't share her mouth 'water' with someone who could be dying, though? Life is hard... She looks over at Fayad and comments, "You sure do have a filthy mouth. I do not think the pirates like it very much."
Korina scrunches up her nose at the very idea, and decides water can wait. "I can get a drink somewhere else," she tells Harriet, frowning at Fayad's earlier comment. "Yes, Fayad, watch your filthy mouth. Maybe if you spent that time speaking incantations instead of trying to blame me for your slowness..."
Fayad replies, aggrieved, "You get shot and not curse!" as he slashes at the ghosts' ectoplasmic essence, rending it asunder with his heated claw.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.
The battle reaches its climax as Fayad, the focus of the ghostly assault, employs his pyromantic talents to deteriorate the ectoplasmic forms of his assailants, despite Korina's provocations and Harriet's unconventional support. The specters, unable to withstand the relentless arcane onslaught, converge into a spiraling maelstrom, encapsulating themselves within a swiftly spinning circle accompanied by ghostly orchestral music before disappearing into the earth from whence they came. Amid the aftermath, Korina's demand for fresher meat from Harriet and the latter's mention of a crown suggest a sense of normalcy returning to their bizarre camaraderie, even as Fayad rebukes Korina's lack of assistance with visible frustration. In the end, despite the specters' banishment, the grave site bears witness to unresolved conflicts and a peculiar interplay of personalities, each dealing with the supernatural intrusion in their unique way.
(Fayad's ghost banishing)
[Fri Aug 16 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is noon, about 80F(26C) degrees,
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
Not these fuckers again. Korina hisses at the pirate trio too, not seeming very impressed at all. "Stay behind after this is over," she tells Fayad with an innocent blink, refraining from doing anything to help for the time being maybe so that she can watch the pirates try to stab Fayad a little bit. "We will have a nice talk."
Harriet certainly is not trying to get involved in the ongoing drama between Korina and Fayad, and she most definitely dismissed it all for that very reason. Her throat clears upon hearing the music begin to eerily waft in its ethereal notes through the grounds of the graveyard, and she retrieves her trusty bag of Celtic sea salt from her handbag. As she opens it, a glance is given about the area, but then she's peering back into her purse. A piece of beef jerky is retrieved, inspected, and then tossed right at Korina's face like that was the most natural thing to do with the stale meat.
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
"Not interested," Fayad replies to Korina. "You tore up all of my books. Some of those were first editions," he glares, too distracted by his hatred for Korina that he gets nailed right in the left shoulder, taking a few steps back. He grumbles, and then raises his arm, the talons attached to the fingertips beginning to glow red hot as he plucks upon the strands of arcana in the air utilizing it as a focus. Fayad's gaudy implement seems to be for more than show, it seems, as he exhibits a level of pyromantic mastery above his usual to attempt to burn away at the very ectoplasm of the spectres, slowly, causing them to scream and focus upon Fayad in their melodramatic undeath.
Korina sees the meat coming and jumps to catch it right in her mouth. She then almost chokes on the piece of jerky, letting out a hacking cough and hunching over as she tries to dislodge it.
A lot of hacking and coughing and half-dying later, Korina turns slightly moistened eyes Harriet's way. "You should stay behind too," she rasps, clearing her throat, composing herself again, and apparently not taking Fayad's answer as a no.
A very audible, "Oof," escapes Harriet's mouth as Fayad gets attacked by one of the ghosts, even if it is only a spectral assault. There is compassion in her hazel gaze, but then she's sprinkling the light grey grains of salt about herself in a circular pattern, trying to ensure her own protection. "Good girl," she coos out to Korina when she catches the jerky, even if she's choked on it. "I knew you were talented." A cautious glance is given to the pirates, then she's back to speaking to Korina, "I love a good chat," in response to what was suggested to her.
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Fayad to keep him in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Korina ends up seated on a tiny patch of grass between some old graves, a circle of light formed by her own magic a boundary around her like the circle of salt is around Harriet, and she watches the dual-knife wielder hold Fayad still by the feet as though she's spectating a sport of some sort, a little, "Yeah, get 'em!" escaping her between munches of jerky. There's a lot of chewing left to do now that she's not actively choking anymore. If the pyromancer's earlier words have had any effect on her at all, it doesn't show; she's just sitting, casual as ever.
Fayad grunts in pain but stoically takes it, disregarding the two women who are focused on self-protection to quite literally fight the ghosts. He parries the cutlass with his golden claw from his enforced stand-still, perspiring as he works, the metal heated red-hot at the talontips as it slices against the ectoplasm, slowly whittling away at the opposing edge itself.
"Are you not some kind of powerful arcanist?" Harriet wonders of Korina aloud as she watches the other woman sit in the grass and only eating the beef jerky. "I am not trained in any sort of magic at all -- but I am often told that I am quite 'magical,'" she shares openly, squinting over at Fayad as he fights one of the ghosts. "Clever," gets decided of his weapon of choice. Next, she's grabbing a handful of her beloved Celtic sea salt and throws it at the dual-knife wielding spirit, but it also has the little grains spraying Fayad as well -- for his protection, of course.
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
It's not really that Korina is interested in self-preservation as much as she's simply being interested in watching Fayad getting beaten around some. Surely she cannot be blamed for this, after she's been treated to such harsh looks since the man's arrival here - entirely unprovoked, at that! She turns her attention to Harriet with a blink now, tilting her head to a side while she continues to chew and chew and chew and...
"You should get me fresher meat next time," she demands of the woman, and then says, "I guess I am alright. Why do you ask?"
Burning in his beady dark eyes under the sulfurous glare of the noon sun, Harriet's salt frees Fayad's feet just as Fayad takes another shot to the shoulder, grunting, the man engaging in mystic and physical warfare with the ghosts, stumbling across the gravestones as he gets his balance back upon the grass.
Korina says "She was always planning on leaving soon, I think."
Whilst tossing salt Fayad's way, maybe helpfully -- maybe not, Harriet is listening to Korina. She nods slowly, and apologises in a heartfelt manner through the words, "I am sorry that the meat was not fresh, but it was either going to go to you, or go into the trash." Yum. "So, I thought I would give you first dibs. I'll find some fresher things." With that, she's poking about her handbag once again, just in case she has any other long forgotten treats that had spilled out of their original containers. It seems there is not more food items past their best within the purse. "You should wear your crown next time," comes in a demand of her own, nodding to Korina's head. "Oh, I simply asked because I think you are fully capable of banishing these spirits back to whence they came."
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"Oh." Korina states eloquently regarding Harriet's reasoning. "I am." She's definitely capable. No doubt about it. "You should tell me when you are coming to one of these, so I remember to wear my crown." It's Harriet's responsibility, of course, to remember both crown and meat. She doesn't take offense to eating food that was going to go to the trash, so long as it doesn't smell downright rotten.
And then, finally, Korina's forced to move out of her comfortably grassy spot to duck behind the nearest gravestone as the flintlock wielder starts his hail of bullets, letting out a quiet little yelp followed by an annoyed grumble at her relaxation and free entertainment being disrupted.
Fayad doesn't seem to feel entitled to Korina's aid, at least, understanding that the suffering is the point. Korina probably even only shows up to these to watch people get beaten up by ghosts. And getting beaten up by ghosts is definitely what Fayad is doing, dropping to the ground and then getting covered in salt as if debris from gravestones shattered by bullets were breaking over his back. How action-moviey!
Fayad's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into him, there's no visible wound.
Upon seeing the flintlock wielder preparing to shoot repeatedly, Harriet squats like a pro before dropping to the ground and looking like she's about to perform a bunch of push-ups, letting the spray pass right by. She's calling after Korina, "Noted, I will be sure to inform you next time. The world deserves to know you are royaly, and you deserve to be recognised." After all, that is the image that one invokes in others when wearing a paper Burger King crown that came with a kid's meal from a world wide fast food chain... Right? This tall brunette seems to think so, at least based on her words. Once Fayad becomes the main attraction, at least in the ghosts' minds, she's hopping back up to her feet and tossing more grey grains towards the Egyptian.
Once the flintlock wielder has sprayed his load and now only has the one bullet to spare for Fayad, Korina peeks out from behind her gravestone, checking if the coast is clear. "I am thirsty now," she claims - it may or may not have something to do with the jerky she's finished while hiding during the bullet-storm. "Did you bring water?" That's for Harriet - she probably wouldn't trust anything Fayad gives her. Though she does, then, stop to tell him, "Banish them faster. This is taking too long." One can only wonder why.
Korina says "Who? "
Korina says "Huh. "
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Fayad to keep him in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Fayad groans as he tries to get to his feet but is stopped entirely by the renewed attack by the metaphorical knife juggler. "If you're not going to help, at least stay silent!", he complains, distracted enough by Korina that he gets shot again. "Fuck", he says, shoulder jerking backwards.
"I did not bring any water," Harriet admits to Korina. After all, she did no even realise she'd brought jerky until she found that stray piece in the bottom of her purse. "But I do have plenty of saliva," is said in perhaps an offer to hydrate the female across from her in a rather unconventional method. Shoulders raise and then fall. "Sam told me yesterday that no one is allowed to hump my leg, but she did not say anything against me spitting into someone's mouth to ensure they do not die of dehydration." Why would her girlfriend tell her no one could hump her leg? That's probably quite a story. Why would that some woman ever think to tell Harriet that she can't share her mouth 'water' with someone who could be dying, though? Life is hard... She looks over at Fayad and comments, "You sure do have a filthy mouth. I do not think the pirates like it very much."
Korina scrunches up her nose at the very idea, and decides water can wait. "I can get a drink somewhere else," she tells Harriet, frowning at Fayad's earlier comment. "Yes, Fayad, watch your filthy mouth. Maybe if you spent that time speaking incantations instead of trying to blame me for your slowness..."
Fayad replies, aggrieved, "You get shot and not curse!" as he slashes at the ghosts' ectoplasmic essence, rending it asunder with his heated claw.
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.