Patrollogs
Harriets Ghost Banishing 240519
On a haunted evening at Arkwright Cemetery, Harriet, Meridith, Sara, and three spectral pirates embroil in a ghostly confrontation amidst a setting of eerie piano melodies and a moonlit sky. Harriet, armed with nothing but a bag of moist Celtic sea salt, begins her ritual to banish these spirits, throwing handfuls into the air to create a protective circle while explaining the ancient power imbued in the salt. Despite her efforts, a ghostly pickpocket starts harassing her, unaware of her ongoing lecture about the sea salt's significance. As they engage, Meridith supports Harriet, slicing at their spectral foes with her blade but gets mistakenly targeted by Harriet's overzealous salt-throwing. Amidst growing tension and encirclement by the ghosts, Harriet's scholarly demeanor and Meridith's battle prowess set the stage for a desperate bid to disperse their unearthly adversaries.
The situation escalates when the spirits begin attacking more aggressively, circling closer with harmful intent. Harriet exhausts her salt supply, hurling it in defense against their assaults as Meridith critiques the lackluster plan and Sara bewilderingly pitches in with a small contribution of salt. In a bizarre turn of tactics, Harriet suggests using the song "Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart" to repel the ghosts, recalling its previous success. Meridith, reluctantly assuming the role of a divine envoy, berates the spirits with both insults and demands, urging them to depart from the mortal realm. As the spectral pirates finally succumb to the combined forces of salt, song, and scalding recriminations, they vanish into the ground, leaving behind a salty, puzzled, but ultimately victorious group under the night sky.
(Harriet's ghost banishing)
[Sat May 18 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is after dusk, about 79F(26C) degrees, and the sky is covered by wispy white clouds. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
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.
Meridith takes up a position, drawing lazy circles with her rapier as the pirates begin to appear. She bows to them, old familiar friends.
Sara blinks rapidly a few times, inhaling sharply.
With that bag in hand, Harriet gives a glance about the area, and as the piano's haunting melody begins, she takes in a deep inhalation of air through her nostrils. "Goodness," gets exhaled out next, and she reaches slim digits inside of that bag. As her hand pulls out from it, within her grasp are many fine granules of Celtic sea salt, all grey and a little... moist. This stuff that she swears by gets tossed into the air, and then showers down onto the grassy ground below.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Harriet, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Meridith nods in confirmation. "Good! Let's get the ghosts niiiice and flavored."
Harriet wonders of Meridith, "Oh, did you bring some flavourings? Some chicken bouillon, perhaps?" Then she begins to explain, tossing more salt about. "Dear Meredith, while it may seem quaint, this sea salt isn't just culinary flair. No, it's steeped in ancient practices," she is explaining with her voice carrying over the spectral winds and piano music. "Celtic sea salt is traditionally harvested with wooden tools, preserving its purity and the energetic imprint of the sea elements believed to be anathema to malevolent spirits."
Meridith smiles at Harriet adoringly as she trips the womans day time television jewelry saleswoman mode. She nods very patiently, as she speaks and listens to every word.
As Harriet casts another handful of salt, forming a protective circle around herself and whomever else chooses to stand next to her. "It's not just about the physical act of throwing salt," she continues telling Meridith, but then... that ghost is right behind her, going through her pockets... so... "It's about intention. Each grain carries the essence of the ocean, and it is a force vast and deep, timeless and relentless. Just as the sea can cleanse and reclaim, so too can this salt disrupt these spirits' tether to this mortal plane." She's oblivious to being pickpocketed at the moment.
"Um," Sara says very quietly, lifting a finger hesitantly.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Harriet, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Meridith covers her mouth. She simply cannot stand it. A perfect moment, allowing Harriet to...condescendingly? But so sweetly explain how to deal with ghosts while she is pickpocketed. "Of course, of course."
Harriet concludes, "It's not merely salt that I am wielding, Meri, but... a fragment of the ocean's soul. And as you can see, it's quite effective." Her tone is firm, a mix of scholarly insight and the practical confidence of one who has turned the tide of spectral invasions before, and yet is getting robbed by one at the same time. Oh, and then she's suddenly experiencing the cackle in her ear, and that causes her to whip around. Her gut reaction is to throw a handful of salt right at the spirit, reeling back as she hurls the grains at the ghost.
Meridith can't deny that she would not like a handful of the souls ocean cast harshly into her face at close range. And neither does the spirit. She reaches forward to slash the spectral foe with her blade. "We were having a chat, sir!" she demands of the rude apparition.
Another burst of her beloved Celtic sea salt is thrown into the spirit's face by Harriet, and the salt particles scatter through the and most likely also hit Meridith. "You try to catch me off-guard, but it takes more than shadows and whispers to do that." Granted, the ghost was successfully pilfering her pockets. "You need to find your peace," she's insisting to the ghost. "You are lost and confused, lashing out in a moment of torment."
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Harriet to keep her in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Meridith pbbts as salt crashes into her face, trying to spit out the raw ingredient as it lands in her mouth. She makes a face and glowers in Harriet's discretion. "Aim! I am not a ghost!" She insists, waggling a sword as if to prove her...point. She pivots as they move to hold her in place. Blade turning towards the foe swooping forth.
"Apologies for the overzealous defense, Meri," Harriet quips with a hint of something that maybe she did all of that on purpose, and yet her focus never wanes from the spectral adversary. "Let's concentrate our efforts where they're truly needed." And with that, as the ghostly figure swoops toward them, Harriet tries to maneuver to flank Meridith, providing her with the support needed to counter the attack effectively -- or something. With precise coordination, she readies another handful of salt, but then the spectre is stabbing at her feet.
The three spirits surround Harriet, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Meridith scoffs at Harriet's quip, a coy but mischevious grin spreading some as she turns her focus along side her. As Harry moves to flank...and she grabs that handful of salt, Meridith moves -well- out of range of the splash zone.
The next thing Harriet knows is that she's getting attacked by all three of the spirits. That salt is being flung ever which way. It's raining salt. Hallelujah. As the three spirits converge on her position, her actions become a blur with all of the salt throwing. With salt cascading through the air like a gritty, icky snowstorm, Harriet's hand dips into her salt pouch repeatedly, scattering arcs of crystalline granules with each sweep of her arm. The area around her starts to resemble a salt-strewn battleground, each grain, it appears at least, is a soldier in her supernatural arsenal. "I think it's working!" she calls to Meridith.
Meridith stares at Harriet with a wide eyed bit of disbelief and a huge definitely not sarcastic thumbs up.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Sara glances at Meridith as all of them are surrounded, and blinks. She has no idea what to do, really, but she does spot a tiny bit of salt near her feet and manages to grab it.
In the thick of the supernatural maelstrom -- it's mostly salt..., Harriet remains undeterred and she is poised as ever despite the tightening noose of spectral forms swirling around her. The spirits, whirling with malevolent intent, feel as if they are beginning to create a vortex of ghostly energy that seeks to overwhelm and disorient. "You underestimate the power of the sea's embrace!" she declares boldly, her voice cutting through the eerie howling of the ghosts. "Wait!" she remembers. "Wham! Wham is what did it last time!" This is being said to Meridith.
Meridith gazes down at Sara, then back to Harriet and shakes her head just gently. It's accusatory. It's a 'what have you done' kind of look. "Oh please, Harry, not Wham again. Please?" she pleads with her as she is forced into the tighter knit circle. Certain death awaits. But is it worth it being saved?
Sara frowns, and then her expression changes to one of genuine concern.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
"Did it not work?" Harriet asks Meridith as she backs up, and then has to pause as she bumps against the other women. "Laaast Christmas I gave you my heart," she begins to sing, out of salt now. The ghosts are still there. "Meri, you're a godling... tell them to go home?"
"Did what not work?" Sara finally says, glancing between the two. "I'm not sure how we got into this."
Harriet suggests to Sara, "You -- Sara, you can sing the lyrics to Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart," and then gestures at Meridith to communicate with the ghosts.
Sara blinks several times, but decides hey, why not. She clears her throat and manages to stammer out "Last Christmas....." before turning her head. "Why that one?"
Meridith ahems. "Attention ghosts! Fuck off! Nobody likes you! And I suspect, nobody ever really liked you! You're persistent! Which is bad when you don't really have many redeeming qualities! Please go away! The world would be better if you never existed, and no better time to start, than now!" She informs them.
Sara stares at someone with her mouth open saying not a word.
Sara stares at Meridith with her mouth open saying not a word.
Harriet relays to Sara, "Because last time it seemed to upset them and they left," about Wham!'s classic. As Meridith communicates with the ghosts, she holds up her hands, trying to keep them at bay.
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 situation escalates when the spirits begin attacking more aggressively, circling closer with harmful intent. Harriet exhausts her salt supply, hurling it in defense against their assaults as Meridith critiques the lackluster plan and Sara bewilderingly pitches in with a small contribution of salt. In a bizarre turn of tactics, Harriet suggests using the song "Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart" to repel the ghosts, recalling its previous success. Meridith, reluctantly assuming the role of a divine envoy, berates the spirits with both insults and demands, urging them to depart from the mortal realm. As the spectral pirates finally succumb to the combined forces of salt, song, and scalding recriminations, they vanish into the ground, leaving behind a salty, puzzled, but ultimately victorious group under the night sky.
(Harriet's ghost banishing)
[Sat May 18 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is after dusk, about 79F(26C) degrees, and the sky is covered by wispy white clouds. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
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.
Meridith takes up a position, drawing lazy circles with her rapier as the pirates begin to appear. She bows to them, old familiar friends.
Sara blinks rapidly a few times, inhaling sharply.
With that bag in hand, Harriet gives a glance about the area, and as the piano's haunting melody begins, she takes in a deep inhalation of air through her nostrils. "Goodness," gets exhaled out next, and she reaches slim digits inside of that bag. As her hand pulls out from it, within her grasp are many fine granules of Celtic sea salt, all grey and a little... moist. This stuff that she swears by gets tossed into the air, and then showers down onto the grassy ground below.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Harriet, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Meridith nods in confirmation. "Good! Let's get the ghosts niiiice and flavored."
Harriet wonders of Meridith, "Oh, did you bring some flavourings? Some chicken bouillon, perhaps?" Then she begins to explain, tossing more salt about. "Dear Meredith, while it may seem quaint, this sea salt isn't just culinary flair. No, it's steeped in ancient practices," she is explaining with her voice carrying over the spectral winds and piano music. "Celtic sea salt is traditionally harvested with wooden tools, preserving its purity and the energetic imprint of the sea elements believed to be anathema to malevolent spirits."
Meridith smiles at Harriet adoringly as she trips the womans day time television jewelry saleswoman mode. She nods very patiently, as she speaks and listens to every word.
As Harriet casts another handful of salt, forming a protective circle around herself and whomever else chooses to stand next to her. "It's not just about the physical act of throwing salt," she continues telling Meridith, but then... that ghost is right behind her, going through her pockets... so... "It's about intention. Each grain carries the essence of the ocean, and it is a force vast and deep, timeless and relentless. Just as the sea can cleanse and reclaim, so too can this salt disrupt these spirits' tether to this mortal plane." She's oblivious to being pickpocketed at the moment.
"Um," Sara says very quietly, lifting a finger hesitantly.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Harriet, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Meridith covers her mouth. She simply cannot stand it. A perfect moment, allowing Harriet to...condescendingly? But so sweetly explain how to deal with ghosts while she is pickpocketed. "Of course, of course."
Harriet concludes, "It's not merely salt that I am wielding, Meri, but... a fragment of the ocean's soul. And as you can see, it's quite effective." Her tone is firm, a mix of scholarly insight and the practical confidence of one who has turned the tide of spectral invasions before, and yet is getting robbed by one at the same time. Oh, and then she's suddenly experiencing the cackle in her ear, and that causes her to whip around. Her gut reaction is to throw a handful of salt right at the spirit, reeling back as she hurls the grains at the ghost.
Meridith can't deny that she would not like a handful of the souls ocean cast harshly into her face at close range. And neither does the spirit. She reaches forward to slash the spectral foe with her blade. "We were having a chat, sir!" she demands of the rude apparition.
Another burst of her beloved Celtic sea salt is thrown into the spirit's face by Harriet, and the salt particles scatter through the and most likely also hit Meridith. "You try to catch me off-guard, but it takes more than shadows and whispers to do that." Granted, the ghost was successfully pilfering her pockets. "You need to find your peace," she's insisting to the ghost. "You are lost and confused, lashing out in a moment of torment."
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Harriet to keep her in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Meridith pbbts as salt crashes into her face, trying to spit out the raw ingredient as it lands in her mouth. She makes a face and glowers in Harriet's discretion. "Aim! I am not a ghost!" She insists, waggling a sword as if to prove her...point. She pivots as they move to hold her in place. Blade turning towards the foe swooping forth.
"Apologies for the overzealous defense, Meri," Harriet quips with a hint of something that maybe she did all of that on purpose, and yet her focus never wanes from the spectral adversary. "Let's concentrate our efforts where they're truly needed." And with that, as the ghostly figure swoops toward them, Harriet tries to maneuver to flank Meridith, providing her with the support needed to counter the attack effectively -- or something. With precise coordination, she readies another handful of salt, but then the spectre is stabbing at her feet.
The three spirits surround Harriet, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Meridith scoffs at Harriet's quip, a coy but mischevious grin spreading some as she turns her focus along side her. As Harry moves to flank...and she grabs that handful of salt, Meridith moves -well- out of range of the splash zone.
The next thing Harriet knows is that she's getting attacked by all three of the spirits. That salt is being flung ever which way. It's raining salt. Hallelujah. As the three spirits converge on her position, her actions become a blur with all of the salt throwing. With salt cascading through the air like a gritty, icky snowstorm, Harriet's hand dips into her salt pouch repeatedly, scattering arcs of crystalline granules with each sweep of her arm. The area around her starts to resemble a salt-strewn battleground, each grain, it appears at least, is a soldier in her supernatural arsenal. "I think it's working!" she calls to Meridith.
Meridith stares at Harriet with a wide eyed bit of disbelief and a huge definitely not sarcastic thumbs up.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Sara glances at Meridith as all of them are surrounded, and blinks. She has no idea what to do, really, but she does spot a tiny bit of salt near her feet and manages to grab it.
In the thick of the supernatural maelstrom -- it's mostly salt..., Harriet remains undeterred and she is poised as ever despite the tightening noose of spectral forms swirling around her. The spirits, whirling with malevolent intent, feel as if they are beginning to create a vortex of ghostly energy that seeks to overwhelm and disorient. "You underestimate the power of the sea's embrace!" she declares boldly, her voice cutting through the eerie howling of the ghosts. "Wait!" she remembers. "Wham! Wham is what did it last time!" This is being said to Meridith.
Meridith gazes down at Sara, then back to Harriet and shakes her head just gently. It's accusatory. It's a 'what have you done' kind of look. "Oh please, Harry, not Wham again. Please?" she pleads with her as she is forced into the tighter knit circle. Certain death awaits. But is it worth it being saved?
Sara frowns, and then her expression changes to one of genuine concern.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
"Did it not work?" Harriet asks Meridith as she backs up, and then has to pause as she bumps against the other women. "Laaast Christmas I gave you my heart," she begins to sing, out of salt now. The ghosts are still there. "Meri, you're a godling... tell them to go home?"
"Did what not work?" Sara finally says, glancing between the two. "I'm not sure how we got into this."
Harriet suggests to Sara, "You -- Sara, you can sing the lyrics to Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart," and then gestures at Meridith to communicate with the ghosts.
Sara blinks several times, but decides hey, why not. She clears her throat and manages to stammer out "Last Christmas....." before turning her head. "Why that one?"
Meridith ahems. "Attention ghosts! Fuck off! Nobody likes you! And I suspect, nobody ever really liked you! You're persistent! Which is bad when you don't really have many redeeming qualities! Please go away! The world would be better if you never existed, and no better time to start, than now!" She informs them.
Sara stares at someone with her mouth open saying not a word.
Sara stares at Meridith with her mouth open saying not a word.
Harriet relays to Sara, "Because last time it seemed to upset them and they left," about Wham!'s classic. As Meridith communicates with the ghosts, she holds up her hands, trying to keep them at bay.
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.