Patrollogs
Meridiths Ghost Banishing 240610
Amidst the eerie serenity of Arkwright Cemetery, with a haunting piano melody unsettling the afternoon air, three spectral forms—clad in an amalgam of ballroom and pirate attire—emerge, initiating an unexpected encounter. Meridith, unfazed by the ghostly presence, suggests banishment as the primary strategy, considering their more nuisance-like nature, inviting Miranda and Aristotle to partake in the confrontation. Despite the ghosts' aggressive maneuvering, the trio remains steadfast. Miranda acknowledges her arcanist abilities but aligns with Meridith's suggestion to lead the offensive, whereas Aristotle, lacking arcane knowledge, pledges his support as a protective shield. The scene sets a curious blend of determination and apprehension among the living, as they ponder their actions against their spectral adversaries.
The situation escalates when one ghost mananges to "shoot" Meridith, sparking a swift, albeit bloodless, retaliation. Miranda proposes a ritual involving a small blood sacrifice from both Meridith and Aristotle, humorously suggesting it draws from “the blood of a virgin and the blood of a great warrior,” to which both somewhat reluctantly agree. Amidst spectral gunfire and the physical manifestations of the ghosts’ hostility—like spectral bullets and ethereal stabs—Meridith and Aristotle provide their blood, allowing Miranda to commence her spell. As the violence from the ghosts intensifies, Miranda’s deep concentration seems to bridge a connection to the divine, promising the banishment of the spirits. Meridith and Aristotle play their parts, dodging gunfire and aiding the ritual with their unique contributions. Despite the chaos, the trio's combined efforts, primarily through Miranda’s arcane ritual, aim to restore peace to the disturbed grounds of Arkwright Cemetery, suggesting that even in the most unconventional scenarios, unity holds the potential for triumph.
(Meridith's ghost banishing)
[Sun Jun 9 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 86F(30C) 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.
Meridith raises a brow between the two of them and mutters something under her breath. She exhales in relief when the ghosts show up. "They'll be focused on me. Try to work on banishing them, or. I guess you can chatter a bit. They're more nuisance than danger."
Miranda's head cocks as a piano melody takes over the ambiance of the graveyard. It's broad daylight so it's doubly unusual to hear music here. She glances around and notices the ghost and says, "How neat." she flexes her fingers and mentions, "I'm quite the accomplished arcanist, but if you think you have things in hand..you are welcome to try."
When that piano melody fills the air, Aristotle lets a little frown settle on his face, and it worsens when he clocks the spectral forms in old pirate garb. "...These guys again. Didn't we already do that?" He wonders to Meridith, before setting his eyes back to the trio of spectrals, and then to Miranda. "I'll admit I don't know much about the arcane, but... I can meat shield. Worked out well last time."
Meridith shrugs gently. "I am no arcanist, merely someone who swings fists with talent, by all means, take the lead. I'm always curious to see the workings of a fellow child." She smiles brightly.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
As they find themselves encircled, Aristotle takes a step closer towards the ladies, his eyes set on one spectral in particular as he tracks them with his eyes. "So. What's the first step?" He asks, looking to Miranda now, though it's a fleeting glance. "Preferably it doesn't involve someone corporeal getting shot?"
"Fellow 'child'?" Miranda says with a little squint towards Meridith, she seems to be taking the threat of the ghost very mildly since Meridith suggested there wasn't too much to worry about. "There are a few ways to go about this. The easiest is to channel energies into a spell that would send them away. I find sexual energies are the best." her tone is dead serious then she chuckles, revealing that she wasn't quite that serious. "Though given we are all strangers and we're in the cemetery, there is other forms of channeling such as a blood sacrifice."
Meridith shifts her hands into her poocket, gazing at the spirits as they move to carole them. "I mostly just let them tucker themselves out by assaulting me." She looks back to Miranda. "Of a god?" She notes more directly, to clarify for her. "Unless I'm wrong, I suppose I just assumed," she offers with a gentle little shrug. Then nods. "Well, I mean I can turn away if you two wanna...or Miranda can squat next to a gravestone and do the needful?" She is being -very- helpful of course.
"Nothing screams setting the mood like 'releasing sexual energy with strangers while surrounded by ghosts.'" Aristotle says, laughing a little, though despite that laugh he does seem to take Miranda's words seriously. "Graduating from making out in a Mausoleum to... on the grave of a pirate. So, quick quesh," he then says with a bit of a pivot. "Those other forms? Considering we're all strangers here?" As he asks, he glances to Meridith to take note of her alternative, and he nods. "That's what we did last time. Tucker them out."
Meridith's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
Meridith blinks then nods. "Oh, I thought you meant rub one out next to a headstone," she exhales in relief. "I had a different memory entirely."
"Oh, yes you figured me right." Miranda tells Meridith with a smile. She winces ever so slightly when a gunshot rings out and it takes her a moment to realize it was Meridith that was shot. "If you would both provide me with a little token of blood. I will begin the ritual to get rid of them...neither of you carry any communicable diseases yes?"
Meridith shrugs. "I suppose we'll find out, no?" She hisses and rubs her arm from the spectral shot and flicks a hand out. A rush of telekinetic force roars, pebbles and twigs and rocks fly out at the ghost, harmless? But it momentarily disappates so who knows. A headstone is crack in the mayhem. Then she pivots to Miranda a hand jams a thumb into her own palm, tearing it gently, letting some blood pool in her palm.
The sound of a spectral gunshot has Aristotle pivoting his head towards the direction of the noise. His own hand, instinctively, goes towards his holster to rest on the handle of his own pistol, but it's not withdrawn considering the aggressor is bulletproof. When Miranda makes a request for blood, he nods, "Oh, I can spare some blood." He says. He flicks open his holster, unlatching it, while withdrawing a multi-tool. He steps closer towards Miranda before wondering. "Where do you want it?" He asks, not wanting to make a mess until knowing where it needs to fall.
Miranda smiles at Meridith and moves to kneel above the grave. Her bare knees end up in the grass and she looks briefly bothered by this then she holds out one hand, palm up towards Meridith upon seeing she has let some blood out of her palm. At Aristotle's offering her other hand goes towards him, palm up as well. "A little from both will do."
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Meridith to keep her in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Meridith tips gently, allowing blood to drip slowly from a clenched hand until a few bare drops land on to someone' She hops back as the knife-wielder vanishes, and then is pinned in spot, gazing at the cutlass wielder as he charges. "You're dead. Idiot. You can't hack me up," she declares confidently...but...still she doesn't look pleased.
Meridith tips gently, allowing blood to drip slowly from a clenched hand until a few bare drops land on to Miranda's. She hops back as the knife-wielder vanishes, and then is pinned in spot, gazing at the cutlass wielder as he charges. "You're dead. Idiot. You can't hack me up," she declares confidently...but...still she doesn't look pleased.
A prick from that tool withdrawn from his holster finds flesh and releases a bit of blood flow. Aristotle's eyes are distracted momentarily by the knife-wielder, but given he's not the target of the aggression this time, he seems much calmer than he otherwise would have been. "Alright," he says, once the blood is collected. "What's next?"
"As your kin, I call upon your assistance in banishing these spirits." Miranda begins with a deepened voice. She's on her knees with blood in one palm from Meridith, and second in the other palm from Aristotle, She closes her fingers to contain the blood within each fist and says, "Hermes, I offer the blood of a virgin and the blood of a great warrior. Please hear me and help me." there is a subtle smirk on her lips as she makes these claims.
Meridith says "Wait which one am I?"
Meridith says she ducks and swoops away from a cutlass hazardously.
An exhale of amusement through the nostrils leaves Aristotle at Miranda's claims, but he refutes nothing, even as Meridith questions. He looks down at their hands, but his head returns to a swivel as he tries to track each of the spectral spirits that seem to set their aggressive sights on Meridith
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.
That swivel Aristotle's head adopted seems to have paid off, as spectral bullets flying at them as a whole see him ducking to avoid getting struck.
Meridith lets out a hiss as they unleash a torrent of gunfire, she flings herself into an agile roll and takes cover near a gravestone, glancing at the spectral gunfire which pours overhead.
There is a very long awkward period of time where Miranda stays there on her knees, two hands held up and out with other people's blood within them. Ghostly bullets sail through the air and Miranda is unflinching as she focuses. It takes time, but eventually blood dribbles from between her fingers, a little drop here and there as if the blonde was squeezing the blood out of something. But it keeps coming, and coming dribbling onto the grass. Far more than Meridith and Aristotle offered her. "Grant me the power to banish this spirit." she request. Her eyes close and she drips more blood onto the grass each passing moment.
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.
Meridith gets cozy and stares at Miranda, watching her work with curiosity. She doesn't speak or make any note of an expression while she observes her, judgement absent.
Another stream of spectral gunfire has Aristotle ducking once more, this time opting to take some cover near a gravestone. He doesn't migrate too far from Miranda, though, in case more of his blood or assistance is needed, but he's certainly ensuring he's not shot at. He pauses for a beat, looking to the girls as he watches the ritual ongoing, before his attention turns towards the spectral spirits. He doesn't withdraw his gun to return fire, but the nearby stones he's able to pick up are used as improvised weapons, which he throws at them. Better they focus on him than threatening to break Miranda's concentration.
Meridith flicks a hand to aid Aristotle's rock throw. Combined strength into some kind of primitive magical telekinetic railgun.
Turning just a few drops of blood from Meridith and Aristotle has yielded a seemingly endless fountain from Miranda's hands, As the crimson liquid hits the grass it sinks into the earth, failing to pool in any significant way. "Take this spirit to the ferry man and pay for his passage across the River Styx." she chants with a commanding voice.
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.
Meridith closes her eyes, irritated. She decides to put it put into a dead sprint. Seeming by fortune alone, bullets seems to just happen to miss her, as she springs off the ground, twirling with the force of an incredible leap, forcing the spectral flintlock wielder to turn to fire upon her instead. She launches towards them with a flash of her dagger, carving the air between them with rapid slashes that keeps the flintlock wielder as concerned about her ineffectual weapon as she is of his.
Aristotle's efforts continue, rocks being thrown as he continues to cover for Miranda's ritual while watching Meridith charge at the spirits. AFter a while, he glances back to Miranda, not wanting his voice to disrupt her, but he can't help but wonder aloud, "How much longer?" He calls, each word carried on a grunt that sees rocks passing through spirits.
Miranda has an intense bout of concentration as she waters the grave with endless blood. Even as gun shots are ringing out and Aristotle gets impatient, she doesn't respond to outside stimuli. The dirt and grass of the grave shifts and ripples under her knees as if something beneath the soil was restless.
The situation escalates when one ghost mananges to "shoot" Meridith, sparking a swift, albeit bloodless, retaliation. Miranda proposes a ritual involving a small blood sacrifice from both Meridith and Aristotle, humorously suggesting it draws from “the blood of a virgin and the blood of a great warrior,” to which both somewhat reluctantly agree. Amidst spectral gunfire and the physical manifestations of the ghosts’ hostility—like spectral bullets and ethereal stabs—Meridith and Aristotle provide their blood, allowing Miranda to commence her spell. As the violence from the ghosts intensifies, Miranda’s deep concentration seems to bridge a connection to the divine, promising the banishment of the spirits. Meridith and Aristotle play their parts, dodging gunfire and aiding the ritual with their unique contributions. Despite the chaos, the trio's combined efforts, primarily through Miranda’s arcane ritual, aim to restore peace to the disturbed grounds of Arkwright Cemetery, suggesting that even in the most unconventional scenarios, unity holds the potential for triumph.
(Meridith's ghost banishing)
[Sun Jun 9 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 86F(30C) 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.
Meridith raises a brow between the two of them and mutters something under her breath. She exhales in relief when the ghosts show up. "They'll be focused on me. Try to work on banishing them, or. I guess you can chatter a bit. They're more nuisance than danger."
Miranda's head cocks as a piano melody takes over the ambiance of the graveyard. It's broad daylight so it's doubly unusual to hear music here. She glances around and notices the ghost and says, "How neat." she flexes her fingers and mentions, "I'm quite the accomplished arcanist, but if you think you have things in hand..you are welcome to try."
When that piano melody fills the air, Aristotle lets a little frown settle on his face, and it worsens when he clocks the spectral forms in old pirate garb. "...These guys again. Didn't we already do that?" He wonders to Meridith, before setting his eyes back to the trio of spectrals, and then to Miranda. "I'll admit I don't know much about the arcane, but... I can meat shield. Worked out well last time."
Meridith shrugs gently. "I am no arcanist, merely someone who swings fists with talent, by all means, take the lead. I'm always curious to see the workings of a fellow child." She smiles brightly.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
As they find themselves encircled, Aristotle takes a step closer towards the ladies, his eyes set on one spectral in particular as he tracks them with his eyes. "So. What's the first step?" He asks, looking to Miranda now, though it's a fleeting glance. "Preferably it doesn't involve someone corporeal getting shot?"
"Fellow 'child'?" Miranda says with a little squint towards Meridith, she seems to be taking the threat of the ghost very mildly since Meridith suggested there wasn't too much to worry about. "There are a few ways to go about this. The easiest is to channel energies into a spell that would send them away. I find sexual energies are the best." her tone is dead serious then she chuckles, revealing that she wasn't quite that serious. "Though given we are all strangers and we're in the cemetery, there is other forms of channeling such as a blood sacrifice."
Meridith shifts her hands into her poocket, gazing at the spirits as they move to carole them. "I mostly just let them tucker themselves out by assaulting me." She looks back to Miranda. "Of a god?" She notes more directly, to clarify for her. "Unless I'm wrong, I suppose I just assumed," she offers with a gentle little shrug. Then nods. "Well, I mean I can turn away if you two wanna...or Miranda can squat next to a gravestone and do the needful?" She is being -very- helpful of course.
"Nothing screams setting the mood like 'releasing sexual energy with strangers while surrounded by ghosts.'" Aristotle says, laughing a little, though despite that laugh he does seem to take Miranda's words seriously. "Graduating from making out in a Mausoleum to... on the grave of a pirate. So, quick quesh," he then says with a bit of a pivot. "Those other forms? Considering we're all strangers here?" As he asks, he glances to Meridith to take note of her alternative, and he nods. "That's what we did last time. Tucker them out."
Meridith's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
Meridith blinks then nods. "Oh, I thought you meant rub one out next to a headstone," she exhales in relief. "I had a different memory entirely."
"Oh, yes you figured me right." Miranda tells Meridith with a smile. She winces ever so slightly when a gunshot rings out and it takes her a moment to realize it was Meridith that was shot. "If you would both provide me with a little token of blood. I will begin the ritual to get rid of them...neither of you carry any communicable diseases yes?"
Meridith shrugs. "I suppose we'll find out, no?" She hisses and rubs her arm from the spectral shot and flicks a hand out. A rush of telekinetic force roars, pebbles and twigs and rocks fly out at the ghost, harmless? But it momentarily disappates so who knows. A headstone is crack in the mayhem. Then she pivots to Miranda a hand jams a thumb into her own palm, tearing it gently, letting some blood pool in her palm.
The sound of a spectral gunshot has Aristotle pivoting his head towards the direction of the noise. His own hand, instinctively, goes towards his holster to rest on the handle of his own pistol, but it's not withdrawn considering the aggressor is bulletproof. When Miranda makes a request for blood, he nods, "Oh, I can spare some blood." He says. He flicks open his holster, unlatching it, while withdrawing a multi-tool. He steps closer towards Miranda before wondering. "Where do you want it?" He asks, not wanting to make a mess until knowing where it needs to fall.
Miranda smiles at Meridith and moves to kneel above the grave. Her bare knees end up in the grass and she looks briefly bothered by this then she holds out one hand, palm up towards Meridith upon seeing she has let some blood out of her palm. At Aristotle's offering her other hand goes towards him, palm up as well. "A little from both will do."
The dual-knife wielder disappears before her arms suddenly emerge from the ground, stabing into the feet of Meridith to keep her in place as the cutlass wielder swoops forward.
Meridith tips gently, allowing blood to drip slowly from a clenched hand until a few bare drops land on to someone' She hops back as the knife-wielder vanishes, and then is pinned in spot, gazing at the cutlass wielder as he charges. "You're dead. Idiot. You can't hack me up," she declares confidently...but...still she doesn't look pleased.
Meridith tips gently, allowing blood to drip slowly from a clenched hand until a few bare drops land on to Miranda's. She hops back as the knife-wielder vanishes, and then is pinned in spot, gazing at the cutlass wielder as he charges. "You're dead. Idiot. You can't hack me up," she declares confidently...but...still she doesn't look pleased.
A prick from that tool withdrawn from his holster finds flesh and releases a bit of blood flow. Aristotle's eyes are distracted momentarily by the knife-wielder, but given he's not the target of the aggression this time, he seems much calmer than he otherwise would have been. "Alright," he says, once the blood is collected. "What's next?"
"As your kin, I call upon your assistance in banishing these spirits." Miranda begins with a deepened voice. She's on her knees with blood in one palm from Meridith, and second in the other palm from Aristotle, She closes her fingers to contain the blood within each fist and says, "Hermes, I offer the blood of a virgin and the blood of a great warrior. Please hear me and help me." there is a subtle smirk on her lips as she makes these claims.
Meridith says "Wait which one am I?"
Meridith says she ducks and swoops away from a cutlass hazardously.
An exhale of amusement through the nostrils leaves Aristotle at Miranda's claims, but he refutes nothing, even as Meridith questions. He looks down at their hands, but his head returns to a swivel as he tries to track each of the spectral spirits that seem to set their aggressive sights on Meridith
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.
That swivel Aristotle's head adopted seems to have paid off, as spectral bullets flying at them as a whole see him ducking to avoid getting struck.
Meridith lets out a hiss as they unleash a torrent of gunfire, she flings herself into an agile roll and takes cover near a gravestone, glancing at the spectral gunfire which pours overhead.
There is a very long awkward period of time where Miranda stays there on her knees, two hands held up and out with other people's blood within them. Ghostly bullets sail through the air and Miranda is unflinching as she focuses. It takes time, but eventually blood dribbles from between her fingers, a little drop here and there as if the blonde was squeezing the blood out of something. But it keeps coming, and coming dribbling onto the grass. Far more than Meridith and Aristotle offered her. "Grant me the power to banish this spirit." she request. Her eyes close and she drips more blood onto the grass each passing moment.
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.
Meridith gets cozy and stares at Miranda, watching her work with curiosity. She doesn't speak or make any note of an expression while she observes her, judgement absent.
Another stream of spectral gunfire has Aristotle ducking once more, this time opting to take some cover near a gravestone. He doesn't migrate too far from Miranda, though, in case more of his blood or assistance is needed, but he's certainly ensuring he's not shot at. He pauses for a beat, looking to the girls as he watches the ritual ongoing, before his attention turns towards the spectral spirits. He doesn't withdraw his gun to return fire, but the nearby stones he's able to pick up are used as improvised weapons, which he throws at them. Better they focus on him than threatening to break Miranda's concentration.
Meridith flicks a hand to aid Aristotle's rock throw. Combined strength into some kind of primitive magical telekinetic railgun.
Turning just a few drops of blood from Meridith and Aristotle has yielded a seemingly endless fountain from Miranda's hands, As the crimson liquid hits the grass it sinks into the earth, failing to pool in any significant way. "Take this spirit to the ferry man and pay for his passage across the River Styx." she chants with a commanding voice.
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.
Meridith closes her eyes, irritated. She decides to put it put into a dead sprint. Seeming by fortune alone, bullets seems to just happen to miss her, as she springs off the ground, twirling with the force of an incredible leap, forcing the spectral flintlock wielder to turn to fire upon her instead. She launches towards them with a flash of her dagger, carving the air between them with rapid slashes that keeps the flintlock wielder as concerned about her ineffectual weapon as she is of his.
Aristotle's efforts continue, rocks being thrown as he continues to cover for Miranda's ritual while watching Meridith charge at the spirits. AFter a while, he glances back to Miranda, not wanting his voice to disrupt her, but he can't help but wonder aloud, "How much longer?" He calls, each word carried on a grunt that sees rocks passing through spirits.
Miranda has an intense bout of concentration as she waters the grave with endless blood. Even as gun shots are ringing out and Aristotle gets impatient, she doesn't respond to outside stimuli. The dirt and grass of the grave shifts and ripples under her knees as if something beneath the soil was restless.