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Irenes Ghost Banishing 241020
In the peculiar and mystic confrontation within the Arkwright Cemetery, Irene, accompanied by Julius and the distinctly otherworldly Elora, finds herself ensnared in a violent dance with demonic apparitions summoned from the nether. The scene descends into chaos as the graveyard fills with a sinister black mist, forming into menacing creatures with red eyes. Elora, with her neon and turquoise hair swaying, starts drawing protective sigils in the soil, her motions practiced and precise, indicating her familiarity with the occult. As tensions rise and the air is sucked from their lungs by the malevolent spirits, Irene attempts to fend off an attack from a smoke-formed warrior with a martial maneuver but fails, falling back.
The turning point in the uncanny encounter comes when Elora, persisting with her ritual amidst the spectral assault, draws a circle intended to protect Irene. Despite Irene's initial reluctance to rely on Elora's magic, she steps into the circle, hoping for sanctuary. Elora’s sigils and chants grow more powerful, her efforts to exorcise the menacing spirits intensify, although this prompts the apparitions to counter with psychological warfare, instilling deep-seated desires and temptations in Irene and Julius. The spirits' influence leads to a moment where Irene, prompted by an illusion, nearly attacks Julius, thinking him to be Elora. However, as Elora's chants culminate, she manages to disrupt the apparitions' presence, their sinister allure fading, allowing Irene to regain her senses. The smoke creatures eventually dissolve into nothingness, vanquished by Elora's potent witchcraft, leaving the cemetery calm, with the small group of unlikely allies standing amidst the quiet graves, a test of their resilience and unity against the supernatural now behind them.
(Irene's ghost banishing)
[Sat Oct 19 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 65F(18C) degrees, and there are a few thin white clouds 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.
When they come to a stop, Irene looks around at the air, likely sensing what Julius's sensing. She sucks in a breath, tense with expectation of the horror that may by now have grown at least passingly familiar for this graveyard. "'S okay," she assures him in a mild tone as they loiter. "So, you come here often?"
Elora walks in wearing clothing from an Other place, looking more like someone in cosplay than in traditional garb. She smiles at Irene as she arrives and gives a look to Julius indicative that she doesn't know them.
Julius smirks faintly at Irene then when Elora arrives he gives a firm nod to the woman and says, to Irene, "There's often a chance others are coming, there is no urgency to start next time." he does not seem that bothered however and within moments he's smelling the sulfer. His hand drops to his side where his knife is hidden under his trench coat, "I've not seen these creatures before."
Elora sniffs the air, a look of distaste on her face. Then she looks around the cemetery at the stones half swallowed by grassy mounds. Her neon and turquoise hair sways from the rapid motion of her darting glances as she quests for a place that is free of grass. Here the plots are crammed next to each other leaving little room available. She moves to the largest section of soft black soil available and kneels down in it.
Irene seems quickly relieved to see Elora's arrival, even if she is dressed like she just stepped out of a fairytale painting. "Oh, Myst," she greets her, lifting up a hand. "Hey." But an acrid stench soon catches her nostrils, causing them to wrinkle upwards with a wince. She turns towards the source, raising her brows with sudden alarm. "Red eyes ... like Chelsea talked about at the party."
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 Irene 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.
Elora kneels in a plot of black soil her fingers starting to draw in the black soil. Her circle is long and wide as she can make it and she seems quite good at drawing a circle as it is a perfect and true one rather than a misshapen oval. There is a practiced way to her motion, as if she has done it before. Once the circle is drawn she begins adding embellishment around the edges. Her other hand comes up to her chest as the air is sucked out of her lungs and she gives a harried look toward the smoky figures.
Julius steps closer to Irene's side and prepares to defend against a physical attack even though it seems there's only smoke so far to be threatened by. He glances to someone and Elora to tell them. "I'm Batman..." in a very low voice that sounds like he's gargling gravel. But a moment later he clarifies, "I'm Julius."
Julius steps closer to Irene's side and prepares to defend against a physical attack even though it seems there's only smoke so far to be threatened by. He glances to Ash and Elora to tell them. "I'm Batman..." in a very low voice that sounds like he's gargling gravel. But a moment later he clarifies, "I'm Julius."
As the smoky creatures all seem to be circling Irene in particular, she narrows her eyes their way, and reaches upwards towards her breast, where she clutches some indiscernible object underneath her jumper. Those closest to her might notice the sterling silver chain around her neck, though what it's holding remains hidden. "Get back from me," she demands of them, and starts moving her lips as well, as if to conduct some sort of ritual.
At least one person here is a knowledgeable occultist. They would likely sense that whatever Irene's doing, it's not in fact magical, at least not traditionally so, even if it seems to be from outward appearances. She's reciting something by heart, something rehearsed, almost like a prayer, but it's not in English, Latin, nor even Spanish. And it's too quiet to hear, even with supernatural senses -- she keeps the words in her heart, even as she moves her lips, against the oxygen deprivation the monsters cause.
Elora has her choker glowing suddenly and whisps of light the color of her hair and eyes form. The three of them begin to move toward the hooded figures, insubstantial, they pass through the chanting figures, as if to disrupt the chanting.
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 Irene, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Elora kneeling amid the loamy soil patch continues her sigil work, sucking in a breath now, eagerly and desperately. Curved lines are added around the edge of the circle and she is lit by the pale glow of the neon, teal, and turquoise orbs in a surreal light which casts her otherwise pale skin to the color of her hair, though fainter. She glances toward Irene at her chant, but then refocuses down toward the soil as she adds symbols to her circle each of which is subtly related to the afterlife in some way. One such symbol is that of a raven. Dirt is caught up under her blue painted nails.
As a sword is swung for her throat, Irene ducks, rushing the arm of the armoured warrior who assaults her. She tries to grab for a sleeve, but her fingers lace through only smoke, and clutch at nothing. This appears to have been some instinctive martial arts manoeuvre, likely to trip him up. Instead, latching onto nothing, she goes tumbling towards the ground, landing on her back with a wince. Luckily, Julius has it much more in hand.
Elora looks over to Irene. "Its focused on you. This circle should offer you some protection. I can't say that it will protect you entirely, but it is better than nothing. I recommend that you stand in its center." The circle is glowing faintly now, the little lines within it pulsing with an otherworldly light. "Do try not to disrupt the linework. Its fragile being in soil rather than something more substantial."
Elora speaks in a lilting way, her tone rising and falling softly, lyrically. She glance around the graveyard once more hunting for another free spot. She finds one and moves to it. There is less soil to work with there. She moves to her knees once more once arrived, brown leather in grass, teal eyes intent, as she focuses on drawing yet more sigils within the soil. At times she is forced to reach out to rip and tear at grass to clear room for more of her drawn lines.
There's a brief, barely perceptible look of disgust that crosses Irene's face when Elora suggests Irene rely on her magic for protection. But nevertheless, with shadowy demonic spirits assaulting the group, she decides to chance Elora's authority against her own prejudice. Rising to her feet as quickly as she can, she makes a little hippity hop and skip across the circle's line, careful, as instructed, not to disturb the linework. Then she looks down and around at the markings that are meant to protect her. "I'm glad you're here," she admits to Elora quietly, eyes wide and nervous.
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 Irene 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.
Elora has her little lights circling the circle now with the ghost disrupted. Her choker is glowing faintly neon. The ghosts chanting resuming causes her circle to flare brighter, casting its occupant in neon. The wisps circling each dive toward the misty apparitions. "I'm quite glad to be here."
When she's closer to Elora inside the safety of the circle that's been drawn to protect her, Irene lowers her voice, making a brief, quiet comment in passing under her breath. She looks up in the direction of the dreadlocked figure who's since left this haunted section of the graveyard, and then decides to trust the woman enough to stay still inside the circle, even as more of the smoke monsters encircle and try to attack.
Elora says "I have had issues with the spirits of this town. One attacked my trailer, the very one someone may have entered - attacked my brother, within that trailer. It was an Encounter which has convinced me of the need to deal with the threats here."
Elora has her words dying as they come out of her, air sucked from her, so as she finished they are so much fainter then when she started to speak.
Elora glares toward the mists as her lights flash through the chanting figures once more disrupting the chanting. SHe sucks in a deep breath. "Blood mushroom patches," she hisses toward the fading gray mists.
Elora says "I do not like that feeling. "
Elora gives a small nod to Irene.
Julius mutters something under his breath and gestures over his heart a small cross. The words seem to be a sort of prayer that gets a bit more audible as he speaks louder at the approach of the hooded figures. Only an acute ear would know he's speaking a Christian prayer. He gets distracted easily though as Irene and Elora whisper to each other and in a fatherly tone he chides them, "Are you gossiping? Or working?"
Unlike Elora and Julius, Irene remains protected inside the circle; she starts to notice they both have difficulty breathing, as the smoke monsters suck the air from their lungs. But the dusky femme remains seemingly unaffected, protected by the neon-haired maiden's powerful magic. "Tell me what to do," she says, eyes wide as she glances between her two fellow ghostbusters. "Can I fight them from the circle, or will that break the ... spell?"
Elora focuses once more on her line work, drawing another circle and giving it shapes coming off its side. It is curving and angled and fanged. A half moon is drawn on one side. A sun on the other. As she starts to draw she also starts to speak, more of chant really, with a musical quality to her voice. The words seem to spark something within her sigils, coaxing out a light from them much more quickly then light came from her previous sigilwork. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Irene ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Elora looks up toward Julius at his question, the glow fading. "I am trying to work."
Elora then feels the compulsion.
Elora pauses.
Elora wonders aloud, "Would anyone like to play a game, perchance?"
Some darkness stirs in Irene's eyes as the laughter around the group intensifies, and she tightly purses her lips. She was told to fight, and so she slowly draws a knife from her holster, holding it in hand. Perhaps she is a ritualist after all? Were this an exorcism movie, she'd be slitting her palm about now ... but she doesn't. Instead, she turns it towards Elora's throat. "Maybe I'll just kill you now," she tells her.
Julius inhales a great deal of the smoke and his eyes appear distant suddenly. He turns to lock his gaze onto Irene first, he steps towards her but then Elora speaks of games and draws his attention..and fury. "Fae. I fucking hate fae." he declares venomously then he advances on her, fist clenched like he's preparing to start fighting.
Elora seems half distracted from her sigil work now as she returns her fingers to the soil. She is looking at the other two.
Elora says "Who said anything of fae?"
Elora looks to Irene.
Julius's eyes widen, not with surprise, but excitement when Irene has just the same feeling as him towards Elora. An inner hatred they both seem to share, perhaps for different reasons. But entirely at Elora's expense..until the fangs are shown. This seems to snap him from his daze and he backs of shaking his head clear. "Sorry..sorry..I don't know what I was thinking."
Elora crafts an illusion, forcing any attacks on her to instead go for the Julius.
Stepping forward, Irene breaks the circle Elora's painstakingly drawn. Anyone paying close attention might've noticed she wasn't really keen on cooperating with this magic tomfoolery in the first place. "I have enjoyed our little game, Elora," she tells the neon-haired woman, "it's too bad, you've been a highlight." And then she snakes out an arm, cold and calculating, to wrap it around her pretty neck, the tip of her blade aimed upwards into her jugular. Except ...
Oh. Seems it's actually Julius she's got in a headlock right now, isn't it? Tricksy Fae indeed.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Irene, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Irene can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
Julius is too busy focusing on Elora, showing suspicion and confusion still at how he got that wrong. This gives Irene the chance to bring that blade to his neck and draw him into a choke. He goes stiff and tries to reason with Irene, "Irene its Julius. You've been tricked..just like when we fought Korina."
Elora watches the two with half her attention while she returns to her low chanting to disrupt the affect now gripping Irene's heart. "Mors tua mihi parens, et ego sum iudex!" Once more her circle flares with a dull light. It disrupts the form with its twisted horns and red eyes.
Elora watches the two with half her attention. "I would not advise attacking me as it would only turn you on each other once I passed, look already at what it is doing to you two?" She feigns, pretending not to be the cause.
Elora has the sigil she has drawn, the sigil of the triskele entwined with ivy ignite, representing the cyclical nature of existence. The raven in flight blazes brighter, its form shifting as though preparing to carry the spirit away. The energies within the circle twist together, creating a spiraling vortex of magic. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
Luckily for both Irene and Julius, the treacherous Templar doesn't get an opportunity to hurt him, nor does she need a chance to process and realise her error. Beyond the bounds of the protective circle, the demonic spirits find their mark in her, and she lets out a choke, dropping her knife and releasing him to instead clutch at her heart. Elora's magic starts to loosen her up, but for now, she looks incapacitated by potentially life-threatening, paranormal pain.
Elora continues her chanting, voice lilting, as she tries to stay focused on the ritual and inctantations, rather than falling prey to the spirits tricks. "In nomine antiquorum, ego te expello!"
Since Julius was already so close to Irene thanks to her almost cutting his throat, he's able to put his hands on her shoulders when she drops her knife and steady her. Looking immediately concerned for her health as he ask urgently, "Are you ok?"
Elora continues to chant latin phrases in her lyrical and lilting English accent. Her circle glows as does the one Irene abandoned casting her in pastel shades which compliment her neon and turquoise hair. The spinning and spiraling will'o'wisps lighting the area are moving more frenetically now and the light seems brighter than it was. There is an oppressive and cold atmosphere amidst a haunting, but it seems less now than it was before, as if her magic is settling into the place and having an effect. Her teal eyes are angry little things though, gazing toward patches where the gray apparations form.
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Irene and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Elora says "Not much longer now. It shall be dealt with, I think, so long as neither of you are fool enough to try and fall into its ploy. You think it chance that you find yourself deluded enough to wish to attack the one person who opposes it? Think. it wants this."
For better or worse, Irene seems to be out of the fight for now, while Elora's magic works to save them both. On her knees, she winces, looking up at the circling demons. "They're from Hell ... aren't they ..." she chokes out, as the vice-like grip starts to loosen from inside her ribcage. "Oh ... tempting, tempting. Maybe if you'd made this offer earlier instead of after trying to kill me."
Elora hisses as the wind blows at her sigil work, disrupting some.
Elora nods to Irene. "Fleshcrafted tools, meant to destroy. They do not wish you any good thing. If you wish to feel good things, it is to me that you ought come," Elora lilts to Irene. She wets her lips, eyes running up and down Irene.
Elora sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and drags teeth along it before seeming to catch herself doing it. She shakes her head. Then, frustrated, she bends down and starts furiously working her fingers through the earth, correcting blown lines that now flicker rather than glowing with a steadier hum.
When the whispers start Julius is easily influenced, he's already holding Irene's shoulders to steady her and so he's close, he has a look in his eye like Irene is the only thing of interest. His hands firmly grip her and he seems about to lean into her, for something..till Elora's words distract him and he glances her way. He clears his throat and seems to snap out of his thoughts, releasing Irene.
When Elora's words reach Irene, she's staring up and dead ahead at the demonic spirits, who whisper to each of them their individually tailored, most depraved and decadent desires. Indeed Irene looks tempted, but there's no lust in her eyes. Whatever she's been promised ... perhaps it was not pleasure.
Elora begins to chant, her voice no longer lyrical, but more of an angry hiss. "Ex umbris venis, ad umbras redeas!" The circle flares with light. Her voice rises, a commanding tone echoing through the mist-laden air. The will-o'-wisps orbit faster, casting eerie light across the graves as they blur into streams of emerald and sapphire. "In tenebris ligatus, numquam iterum surgas!" The center of the circle, where the softer runes of transition glimmer, pulses with a strange luminescence, beckoning the spirit to release its hold on this world. Eloras words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding, as the spirit begins to waver in form. "Mors tua mihi parens, et ego sum iudex!" She glares. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
Elora in her chanting seems to be having some affect on the apparitions. They are not forming as they were before, somehow disrupted.
Soon, Irene snaps out of whatever hold the spirits had on her, the lured determination in her eyes fading to disgust. She manages to stagger to her feet, staring down the demons, and whispers, "See you in Hell."
Elora doesn't let up in her chanting. Each word now seems to be like a blow against the horned figures. Her hair almost seems wrong, hovering ever so slightly, as if floating, and a strange power, a kind of tense electricity hangs in the air as her ritual rapidly approaches its completion.
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.
The turning point in the uncanny encounter comes when Elora, persisting with her ritual amidst the spectral assault, draws a circle intended to protect Irene. Despite Irene's initial reluctance to rely on Elora's magic, she steps into the circle, hoping for sanctuary. Elora’s sigils and chants grow more powerful, her efforts to exorcise the menacing spirits intensify, although this prompts the apparitions to counter with psychological warfare, instilling deep-seated desires and temptations in Irene and Julius. The spirits' influence leads to a moment where Irene, prompted by an illusion, nearly attacks Julius, thinking him to be Elora. However, as Elora's chants culminate, she manages to disrupt the apparitions' presence, their sinister allure fading, allowing Irene to regain her senses. The smoke creatures eventually dissolve into nothingness, vanquished by Elora's potent witchcraft, leaving the cemetery calm, with the small group of unlikely allies standing amidst the quiet graves, a test of their resilience and unity against the supernatural now behind them.
(Irene's ghost banishing)
[Sat Oct 19 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 65F(18C) degrees, and there are a few thin white clouds 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.
When they come to a stop, Irene looks around at the air, likely sensing what Julius's sensing. She sucks in a breath, tense with expectation of the horror that may by now have grown at least passingly familiar for this graveyard. "'S okay," she assures him in a mild tone as they loiter. "So, you come here often?"
Elora walks in wearing clothing from an Other place, looking more like someone in cosplay than in traditional garb. She smiles at Irene as she arrives and gives a look to Julius indicative that she doesn't know them.
Julius smirks faintly at Irene then when Elora arrives he gives a firm nod to the woman and says, to Irene, "There's often a chance others are coming, there is no urgency to start next time." he does not seem that bothered however and within moments he's smelling the sulfer. His hand drops to his side where his knife is hidden under his trench coat, "I've not seen these creatures before."
Elora sniffs the air, a look of distaste on her face. Then she looks around the cemetery at the stones half swallowed by grassy mounds. Her neon and turquoise hair sways from the rapid motion of her darting glances as she quests for a place that is free of grass. Here the plots are crammed next to each other leaving little room available. She moves to the largest section of soft black soil available and kneels down in it.
Irene seems quickly relieved to see Elora's arrival, even if she is dressed like she just stepped out of a fairytale painting. "Oh, Myst," she greets her, lifting up a hand. "Hey." But an acrid stench soon catches her nostrils, causing them to wrinkle upwards with a wince. She turns towards the source, raising her brows with sudden alarm. "Red eyes ... like Chelsea talked about at the party."
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 Irene 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.
Elora kneels in a plot of black soil her fingers starting to draw in the black soil. Her circle is long and wide as she can make it and she seems quite good at drawing a circle as it is a perfect and true one rather than a misshapen oval. There is a practiced way to her motion, as if she has done it before. Once the circle is drawn she begins adding embellishment around the edges. Her other hand comes up to her chest as the air is sucked out of her lungs and she gives a harried look toward the smoky figures.
Julius steps closer to Irene's side and prepares to defend against a physical attack even though it seems there's only smoke so far to be threatened by. He glances to someone and Elora to tell them. "I'm Batman..." in a very low voice that sounds like he's gargling gravel. But a moment later he clarifies, "I'm Julius."
Julius steps closer to Irene's side and prepares to defend against a physical attack even though it seems there's only smoke so far to be threatened by. He glances to Ash and Elora to tell them. "I'm Batman..." in a very low voice that sounds like he's gargling gravel. But a moment later he clarifies, "I'm Julius."
As the smoky creatures all seem to be circling Irene in particular, she narrows her eyes their way, and reaches upwards towards her breast, where she clutches some indiscernible object underneath her jumper. Those closest to her might notice the sterling silver chain around her neck, though what it's holding remains hidden. "Get back from me," she demands of them, and starts moving her lips as well, as if to conduct some sort of ritual.
At least one person here is a knowledgeable occultist. They would likely sense that whatever Irene's doing, it's not in fact magical, at least not traditionally so, even if it seems to be from outward appearances. She's reciting something by heart, something rehearsed, almost like a prayer, but it's not in English, Latin, nor even Spanish. And it's too quiet to hear, even with supernatural senses -- she keeps the words in her heart, even as she moves her lips, against the oxygen deprivation the monsters cause.
Elora has her choker glowing suddenly and whisps of light the color of her hair and eyes form. The three of them begin to move toward the hooded figures, insubstantial, they pass through the chanting figures, as if to disrupt the chanting.
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 Irene, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Elora kneeling amid the loamy soil patch continues her sigil work, sucking in a breath now, eagerly and desperately. Curved lines are added around the edge of the circle and she is lit by the pale glow of the neon, teal, and turquoise orbs in a surreal light which casts her otherwise pale skin to the color of her hair, though fainter. She glances toward Irene at her chant, but then refocuses down toward the soil as she adds symbols to her circle each of which is subtly related to the afterlife in some way. One such symbol is that of a raven. Dirt is caught up under her blue painted nails.
As a sword is swung for her throat, Irene ducks, rushing the arm of the armoured warrior who assaults her. She tries to grab for a sleeve, but her fingers lace through only smoke, and clutch at nothing. This appears to have been some instinctive martial arts manoeuvre, likely to trip him up. Instead, latching onto nothing, she goes tumbling towards the ground, landing on her back with a wince. Luckily, Julius has it much more in hand.
Elora looks over to Irene. "Its focused on you. This circle should offer you some protection. I can't say that it will protect you entirely, but it is better than nothing. I recommend that you stand in its center." The circle is glowing faintly now, the little lines within it pulsing with an otherworldly light. "Do try not to disrupt the linework. Its fragile being in soil rather than something more substantial."
Elora speaks in a lilting way, her tone rising and falling softly, lyrically. She glance around the graveyard once more hunting for another free spot. She finds one and moves to it. There is less soil to work with there. She moves to her knees once more once arrived, brown leather in grass, teal eyes intent, as she focuses on drawing yet more sigils within the soil. At times she is forced to reach out to rip and tear at grass to clear room for more of her drawn lines.
There's a brief, barely perceptible look of disgust that crosses Irene's face when Elora suggests Irene rely on her magic for protection. But nevertheless, with shadowy demonic spirits assaulting the group, she decides to chance Elora's authority against her own prejudice. Rising to her feet as quickly as she can, she makes a little hippity hop and skip across the circle's line, careful, as instructed, not to disturb the linework. Then she looks down and around at the markings that are meant to protect her. "I'm glad you're here," she admits to Elora quietly, eyes wide and nervous.
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 Irene 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.
Elora has her little lights circling the circle now with the ghost disrupted. Her choker is glowing faintly neon. The ghosts chanting resuming causes her circle to flare brighter, casting its occupant in neon. The wisps circling each dive toward the misty apparitions. "I'm quite glad to be here."
When she's closer to Elora inside the safety of the circle that's been drawn to protect her, Irene lowers her voice, making a brief, quiet comment in passing under her breath. She looks up in the direction of the dreadlocked figure who's since left this haunted section of the graveyard, and then decides to trust the woman enough to stay still inside the circle, even as more of the smoke monsters encircle and try to attack.
Elora says "I have had issues with the spirits of this town. One attacked my trailer, the very one someone may have entered - attacked my brother, within that trailer. It was an Encounter which has convinced me of the need to deal with the threats here."
Elora has her words dying as they come out of her, air sucked from her, so as she finished they are so much fainter then when she started to speak.
Elora glares toward the mists as her lights flash through the chanting figures once more disrupting the chanting. SHe sucks in a deep breath. "Blood mushroom patches," she hisses toward the fading gray mists.
Elora says "I do not like that feeling. "
Elora gives a small nod to Irene.
Julius mutters something under his breath and gestures over his heart a small cross. The words seem to be a sort of prayer that gets a bit more audible as he speaks louder at the approach of the hooded figures. Only an acute ear would know he's speaking a Christian prayer. He gets distracted easily though as Irene and Elora whisper to each other and in a fatherly tone he chides them, "Are you gossiping? Or working?"
Unlike Elora and Julius, Irene remains protected inside the circle; she starts to notice they both have difficulty breathing, as the smoke monsters suck the air from their lungs. But the dusky femme remains seemingly unaffected, protected by the neon-haired maiden's powerful magic. "Tell me what to do," she says, eyes wide as she glances between her two fellow ghostbusters. "Can I fight them from the circle, or will that break the ... spell?"
Elora focuses once more on her line work, drawing another circle and giving it shapes coming off its side. It is curving and angled and fanged. A half moon is drawn on one side. A sun on the other. As she starts to draw she also starts to speak, more of chant really, with a musical quality to her voice. The words seem to spark something within her sigils, coaxing out a light from them much more quickly then light came from her previous sigilwork. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Irene ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Elora looks up toward Julius at his question, the glow fading. "I am trying to work."
Elora then feels the compulsion.
Elora pauses.
Elora wonders aloud, "Would anyone like to play a game, perchance?"
Some darkness stirs in Irene's eyes as the laughter around the group intensifies, and she tightly purses her lips. She was told to fight, and so she slowly draws a knife from her holster, holding it in hand. Perhaps she is a ritualist after all? Were this an exorcism movie, she'd be slitting her palm about now ... but she doesn't. Instead, she turns it towards Elora's throat. "Maybe I'll just kill you now," she tells her.
Julius inhales a great deal of the smoke and his eyes appear distant suddenly. He turns to lock his gaze onto Irene first, he steps towards her but then Elora speaks of games and draws his attention..and fury. "Fae. I fucking hate fae." he declares venomously then he advances on her, fist clenched like he's preparing to start fighting.
Elora seems half distracted from her sigil work now as she returns her fingers to the soil. She is looking at the other two.
Elora says "Who said anything of fae?"
Elora looks to Irene.
Julius's eyes widen, not with surprise, but excitement when Irene has just the same feeling as him towards Elora. An inner hatred they both seem to share, perhaps for different reasons. But entirely at Elora's expense..until the fangs are shown. This seems to snap him from his daze and he backs of shaking his head clear. "Sorry..sorry..I don't know what I was thinking."
Elora crafts an illusion, forcing any attacks on her to instead go for the Julius.
Stepping forward, Irene breaks the circle Elora's painstakingly drawn. Anyone paying close attention might've noticed she wasn't really keen on cooperating with this magic tomfoolery in the first place. "I have enjoyed our little game, Elora," she tells the neon-haired woman, "it's too bad, you've been a highlight." And then she snakes out an arm, cold and calculating, to wrap it around her pretty neck, the tip of her blade aimed upwards into her jugular. Except ...
Oh. Seems it's actually Julius she's got in a headlock right now, isn't it? Tricksy Fae indeed.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Irene, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Irene can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
Julius is too busy focusing on Elora, showing suspicion and confusion still at how he got that wrong. This gives Irene the chance to bring that blade to his neck and draw him into a choke. He goes stiff and tries to reason with Irene, "Irene its Julius. You've been tricked..just like when we fought Korina."
Elora watches the two with half her attention while she returns to her low chanting to disrupt the affect now gripping Irene's heart. "Mors tua mihi parens, et ego sum iudex!" Once more her circle flares with a dull light. It disrupts the form with its twisted horns and red eyes.
Elora watches the two with half her attention. "I would not advise attacking me as it would only turn you on each other once I passed, look already at what it is doing to you two?" She feigns, pretending not to be the cause.
Elora has the sigil she has drawn, the sigil of the triskele entwined with ivy ignite, representing the cyclical nature of existence. The raven in flight blazes brighter, its form shifting as though preparing to carry the spirit away. The energies within the circle twist together, creating a spiraling vortex of magic. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
Luckily for both Irene and Julius, the treacherous Templar doesn't get an opportunity to hurt him, nor does she need a chance to process and realise her error. Beyond the bounds of the protective circle, the demonic spirits find their mark in her, and she lets out a choke, dropping her knife and releasing him to instead clutch at her heart. Elora's magic starts to loosen her up, but for now, she looks incapacitated by potentially life-threatening, paranormal pain.
Elora continues her chanting, voice lilting, as she tries to stay focused on the ritual and inctantations, rather than falling prey to the spirits tricks. "In nomine antiquorum, ego te expello!"
Since Julius was already so close to Irene thanks to her almost cutting his throat, he's able to put his hands on her shoulders when she drops her knife and steady her. Looking immediately concerned for her health as he ask urgently, "Are you ok?"
Elora continues to chant latin phrases in her lyrical and lilting English accent. Her circle glows as does the one Irene abandoned casting her in pastel shades which compliment her neon and turquoise hair. The spinning and spiraling will'o'wisps lighting the area are moving more frenetically now and the light seems brighter than it was. There is an oppressive and cold atmosphere amidst a haunting, but it seems less now than it was before, as if her magic is settling into the place and having an effect. Her teal eyes are angry little things though, gazing toward patches where the gray apparations form.
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Irene and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Elora says "Not much longer now. It shall be dealt with, I think, so long as neither of you are fool enough to try and fall into its ploy. You think it chance that you find yourself deluded enough to wish to attack the one person who opposes it? Think. it wants this."
For better or worse, Irene seems to be out of the fight for now, while Elora's magic works to save them both. On her knees, she winces, looking up at the circling demons. "They're from Hell ... aren't they ..." she chokes out, as the vice-like grip starts to loosen from inside her ribcage. "Oh ... tempting, tempting. Maybe if you'd made this offer earlier instead of after trying to kill me."
Elora hisses as the wind blows at her sigil work, disrupting some.
Elora nods to Irene. "Fleshcrafted tools, meant to destroy. They do not wish you any good thing. If you wish to feel good things, it is to me that you ought come," Elora lilts to Irene. She wets her lips, eyes running up and down Irene.
Elora sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and drags teeth along it before seeming to catch herself doing it. She shakes her head. Then, frustrated, she bends down and starts furiously working her fingers through the earth, correcting blown lines that now flicker rather than glowing with a steadier hum.
When the whispers start Julius is easily influenced, he's already holding Irene's shoulders to steady her and so he's close, he has a look in his eye like Irene is the only thing of interest. His hands firmly grip her and he seems about to lean into her, for something..till Elora's words distract him and he glances her way. He clears his throat and seems to snap out of his thoughts, releasing Irene.
When Elora's words reach Irene, she's staring up and dead ahead at the demonic spirits, who whisper to each of them their individually tailored, most depraved and decadent desires. Indeed Irene looks tempted, but there's no lust in her eyes. Whatever she's been promised ... perhaps it was not pleasure.
Elora begins to chant, her voice no longer lyrical, but more of an angry hiss. "Ex umbris venis, ad umbras redeas!" The circle flares with light. Her voice rises, a commanding tone echoing through the mist-laden air. The will-o'-wisps orbit faster, casting eerie light across the graves as they blur into streams of emerald and sapphire. "In tenebris ligatus, numquam iterum surgas!" The center of the circle, where the softer runes of transition glimmer, pulses with a strange luminescence, beckoning the spirit to release its hold on this world. Eloras words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding, as the spirit begins to waver in form. "Mors tua mihi parens, et ego sum iudex!" She glares. "Vade nunc, anima damnata, in aeternum non redeas!"
Elora in her chanting seems to be having some affect on the apparitions. They are not forming as they were before, somehow disrupted.
Soon, Irene snaps out of whatever hold the spirits had on her, the lured determination in her eyes fading to disgust. She manages to stagger to her feet, staring down the demons, and whispers, "See you in Hell."
Elora doesn't let up in her chanting. Each word now seems to be like a blow against the horned figures. Her hair almost seems wrong, hovering ever so slightly, as if floating, and a strange power, a kind of tense electricity hangs in the air as her ritual rapidly approaches its completion.
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.