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Nikolais Ghost Banishing 240802
In the dense atmosphere of Arkwright Cemetery, amidst the encroaching black mist and smell of brimstone, a group gathered to confront an emerging threat. Nikolai, standing among them, faced down the sinister forms that the mist coalesced into: horned creatures with menacing red eyes. He fought with fire belched forth from his hammer, a simple yet effective counter to the spectres’ ethereal menace. Around him, his allies each contributed in their unique ways. Korina, initially more preoccupied with her snacks, began weaving motes of glowing light to counteract the dark mist, while Solomon inscribed protective runes with his blood, his eyes flashing red with power. Saoirse offered up a chanted mantra, seemingly grasping at an unseen orb, her actions imbuing the scene with a steady, rhythmic calm amidst chaos. Elias, bloodletting onto the ground, enlisted the spirits of nature to expel the intrusive shadow. Together, they stood against the advancing, twisted weapons and howling threats of the ghostly assailants.
However, the battle took a personal turn as Nikolai, reacting on impulse, smacked Korina’s butt, momentarily shattering the concentrated efforts against their foes. The act, meant in jest, left them vulnerable, snuffing out the globes of light Korina had summoned and plunging them momentarily back into darkness. Regretting his action, Nikolai’s golden armor exploded into brilliant sunlight, repelling the darkness once more, albeit at the cost of leaving him exposed. As the fight escalated, a hellhound formed from the infernal smoke, its phantom jaws closing on Nikolai, and it took the combined effort of Korina, now transformed into a snow leopard, and the continued magical assaults from Solomon and Elias, to finally encircle the group with a dome of protective fire. Lines of red lightning arced down, targeting the hellhound, as they looked toward the transformed Korina joining the fray, illustrating the chaos and solidarity of a group unyielding in the face of spectral invasion.
(Nikolai's ghost banishing)
[Thu Aug 1 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 96F(35C) degrees,
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.
Korina didn't walk right past. She was just scouting.
As smoke begins to fill the space, Solomon's chant picks up some speed. Broad hands open, and with each intoned syllable they trail a little smoke. "They come," he tells the assembled crowd.
Saoirse sniffs at the scent that seemed to appear from nowhere, squinting, as if looking around for the source, before spotting the mist. "Uhhh... Uhhhh..." Uncertainty clearly plagued her features, yet also resolve. Seeing another focusing, she set down into a meditative seat, seeming to focus intently.
"Charming" Elias mutters as the spirit begins to manifest, reaching to his belt he pulls out a bowie knife. But instead of taking any kind of defensive stance or any offensive stand, he remains rather causal for the moment. He holds the blade towards his palm, but pauses as he shifts his attention to Nikolai, observing his actions before moving forward.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Nikolai, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Nikolai can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
With that clap of the big Russian's hands, Nikolai steps back with the rising of the horned, hellish figures. Compared to certain other well-versed arcanists in the room, his methodology is not so intricate: he points his hammer at the spectres, and fire belches forth to burn away at whatever essence is contained within their ethereal forms. Nikolai doesn't need to understand the metaphysical mechanics of the interaction - he just shoots flame, and lets the practitioners handle the tricky stuff.
A low murmuring, some kind of chanted mantra, sounds from Saoirse. The words were recited with a precise intonation; it resembled, perhaps, a prayer chant. Her hands fold in front of her, as if grasping an invisible orb. Between the words, deep, rhythmic breaths were taken, steadily, in and out.
Of course, though, the fucking ghosts are magic. Nikolai takes half a step back as his eyes brighten with a familiar panic, his hand clutching at his chest - but only for a moment, before it falls away in a fit of improved confidence. He's not so afraid of his heart giving out, these days.
Korina is in no rush to get started with the incantations; she walks in holding a box of what seems like raw ingredients for a wagyu sirloin, eating along the way when she comes to stand near Nikolai, but the appearance of the ghosts is enough to put her appetite on the back burner for now. There's an immediate wrinkling of the nose, leaving the fancier incantation to the others while she simply brings motes of glowing light into existence in an effort to fight against the black mist that pervades - they hang high, like miniature suns through the air, glowing and spinning.
Solomon steps to the side; it's some lazy invocation, and then his hand makes some careful, complicated gesture. Lines of fire trail behind his pinky finger, and as he does he scribes some rune, hanging in the air. His eyes flash red, and then he moves, leaving it hanging there, beginning again. He is scribing some circle to wrap around this scene of conflict, leaving quarter-markers burning in the air.
Once he observes Nikolai's approach, Elias quickly moves to action. He draws the blade across his palm to cut a razor thin line across it, with some muttering under his breath that doesn't sound like any kind of incarnation, but more cursing. He clenches his fist closed to let blood trickle out onto the ground. He takes lowers himself to the ground where the true incarnations start. The dark haired man closes his eyes as he starts to whisper, at first quite but it starts to grow, "Spirit of the Wind, Spirit of the Forest, Spirit of the Sea, cast out this devil spirit. He does not belong here. He can not stay here." And with that, the crystals on his watch start to glow dimly, causing the speckled bits of blood on the ground to start to form icy shards upon them.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Nikolai, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
A rotation of the hands, as if Saoirse was shifting the 'orb' that she clutched in both hands, neatly in front of her. There was no flashy light to speak of, and no distinctly magical effects emanating from the woman; regardless, she seemed keen on assisting as best as she could. The intonation of her chant grew slightly louder, the language spoken clearly not some manner of English. A shiver ran through her at the emergence of the smoke-monsters, but even still, she continued to rotate the 'orb', the chanting and breathing continuing.
A second sign: Solomon arrives at the second quarter, and a bronze-bladed knife is produced. He slashes his palm, glancing at Nikolai, as he drips out blood. As soon as it hits the air, it begins to smoke and flare as he draws another symbol in the air.
Spectral armour slams into existence on Nikolai's skin, glowing with a golden light. It's not just a divine gift, but something concentrated - the greatest gift he carries. Withstanding the onslaught of the ghosts proves painless, for a while. Spikes grow from the armour, threatening to tangle lashing limbs and thrust-forth weapons, and the demigod shouts something in Russian, invoking the name Svarog.
There's a faint, low growl at the back of Korina's throat as the monsters of smoke advance towards Nikolai, and she shifts in front of him as a protector - an almost comical sight, considering his stature in comparison with hers, but the ferocity in her eyes is real, as is the swipe of claw-tipped fingers that go slashing through the air at the figures in the mist, making one of them glow up brightly as though that will slow them down - light against darkness.
Lifting his gaze from the ground, Elias focuses on Nikolai and the spirit manifesting before him. Whatever is garnered there, it spurs him on to quicken his work. With the tip of his blade, he starts to draw symbols around the blood in the dirt, "He must not remain. This spirit is not of this world and it should return to where forth it belongs." Tightening his balled up fist as he continues to chat from his kneeled position, the dart haired man opens his balled fist and places his palm into the dirt, letting the blood seep into the soil of the graveyard.
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Nikolai and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Solomon falters, as his head turns to some silent whisper. He was drawing a symbol, but instead his eyes go distant, finding some point of light out of view. His lips move, but it's wordless, as if saying some silent name.
Perhaps distracted by certain, lecherous ideas whispered into his ear, or perhaps simply making a display of things, Nikolai reaches forward and gives Korina's butt a good smack as she selflessly moves before him to burn away the shadows of the encroaching ghosts. Good job, Nikolai. Real professional. At least his flames are still burning hot - he's not quite a sorcerer, but they're impressive nonetheless.
A nosebleed sprung up on Saoirse 's face, a shudder running through her. Her breath was unsteadied for a moment, clearly unused to the sensations running through her. For a moment, the cadence of her chant was broken, but she resumed it, rotating her hands through convoluted motions.
Pushing himself forward with the ritual, Elias lets his voice carry through the cemetery as he calls out, "Spirit, I cast you out! Return to whatever depths of Sirina that have spawned you!" And with the whispers, it breaks Elias' concentration for a moment as mutters, "decadent desires fulfilled".
Whatever Korina was hearing and focused upon, it shatters apart in an instant when Nikolai's hand smacks against her skin, and she yelps out loud and shoots him a mildly betrayed look, right as all the globes of light in the air snuff out, letting the mist pervade once more. A double oopsie, as they say.
Well - Nikolai flashes Korina an apologetic glance as the light flees, and that golden armour explodes into light instead, evaporating like steam into rays of glorious sunlight. He can't sustain it for long, but it's better than leaving everyone in the dark due to his own impulsive action - but now his armour's gone, and he grimaces against the approach of the ghosts.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Nikolai and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
A firm gritting of her teeth, a slight whimper, as if the thin razor of death came for Saoirse ; these shattered her concentration for a moment, her eyes opening wide as if terrified of something. Her body jerked as if it wished, desperately to run, but she forced herself to remain seated, with her legs folded neatly beneath her. The chant was interrupted, but she resumed it, seeming to start all the way from the top again, though not before staring at the glowing radiance of the sunlight with a fascinated expression on her face. Her hands returned to their position in front of her, rotating around a central non-existent 'orb' in front of her chest.
Gripping his fist into the dirt as the strong wave of emotion washes over those present, but Elias doesn't show any other outward expression of it. He takes a deep break and continues with his chat, "Spirits of the Earth, expel this abomination that has entered this world, cast it out! Return it to where it belongs."
Korina takes an instinctive step back now, goosebumps rising along her skin and her eyes wide, pupils dilated as she shrinks close to Nikolai, a hand reaching out to clutch at the back of his jacket. Slowly, /slowly/ the light comes back on, though it's lit in shades of red this time, casting a bloodied glow across the surroundings where it tries and fails to pierce through the mist.
Solomon finds his way back to present reality, and he grits his teeth. He chants again -- he looks for the drip of blood, starting to let it make those sigils in the sky. The third quarter, drawn now, as he begins to pace towards the final quarter to draw the circle.
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 Nikolai, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
"Talk," Nikolai bites out, flinching backwards out of the way of that spectral sword. He'd much rather his head stay back on, whether the sword poses a real threat to him or not. "Banish this - isolation. I cannot understand what any of you are saying. Spare a fucking word in English." His flames gutter out for a moment as he turns his attention down to a small tablet in his jacket - and then he's loading up whatever slop's filling the front page of Youtube at the moment, playing loud and clear.
"WHAT'S UP GUUUUYZ, THIS IS..."
He almost looks to regret it, grimacing at the overly forced content. Back to the burning, then - up points the hammer, and out pours the flame.
Saoirse had little she could do to stop the events unfolding in front of her. After all, she already had gotten in -way- over her head. Regardless of the circumstance, the sudden blasting of the YouTuber seemed to shock her, the chant ceasing, as she said, "Oh hey, that's GamerGus99, I follow him... Uh..." She stopped talking, closing her eyes from the distraction, and refocusing on her efforts.
Taking no action as the creature bursts out of the smoke at Nikolai, Elias continues focusing on the task at hand. The blood and dirt around his hand continues to freeze as the energies of his ritual continue leaving a patch that looks very similar to a thick frost on the ground. He stabs his bowie knife into the ground pulling out some kind of ground up herb which he beings sprinkling on the ground, chanting, "Cleanse this foul creature from your lands, from your winds, from your view."
Now that last sigil scribed in the sky. Solomon steps out of the circle, breathing heavily, and then as he slashes his palm again he begins to cast out burning blood like a censor, sprinkling the dark eart of the cemetery with fire. His chant rises, as a burning circle begins to circle around Nikolai, Elias, Korina and Saoirse -- squaring off now the space to fight these monsters of smoke.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Nikolai with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
Clearly, Saoirse lacked any sort of way to combat these forces. Instead, she seemed to act as a stability point, an anchor. The smooth rhythmic chanting, and the rotation of the movements of her hands seemed to provide a sort of calm amidst the storm, something that the others, perhaps, could seize upon, and brace against, regardless of her lack of outwardly showy manifestations.
This is fine, it's fine. Korina takes a deep, deep breath; Nikolai's words have broken the silence, and then further still with the loud noise from his tablet, and the motes of light in the air take on a brighter cast now, red shifting to orange and yellow and every other color of the rainbow until they're all surrounded by dazzling iridescence that keeps the mist at bay for the most part.
Right as the hellhound closes in on Nikolai too - she growls, quite loud, the noise rumbling through her chest.
"I hate him," Nikolai decides with a grunt of finality. Fuck GamerGus99. "Solomon, Elias - I do not think they have much left to burn up. Are you - " He cuts off, seeing Solomon's rite come to fruition as that conflagrant ring beings to burn the air around it. The hellhound's not so disturbing to the Russian, though - he's well familiar with those, and Hellfire is something he's grown quite comfortable with. He wraps his free arm as best he can around the smoky, ghostly thing, but the ability to interact with ghosts does not well translate to the ability to grapple with them, and his limbs slowly sink through the not-so-impermeable fog.
Nope; she's had enough. Korina(snow leopard) goes pouncing straight for the smoky hellhound, tail lashing behind her as soon as the transformation is complete - she's either going to jump right through it, or she's going to end up tussling with it with claws and teeth, but the end result may be the same either way: it's going to have to let go of Nikolai.
There is no response to Nikolai, neither when he is attacked or when he calls out to Elias. Elias seems completely absorbed in his work as he continues to chant as the frost runs up his arm slowly, twinkling at the more flashy light magics being used around him, "Spirits of nature, spirits of the storm, you are needed. Accept my tribute of blood to cast out this spirit that does not belong in your domain!" And abruptly Elias goes silent and his eyes spring open, looking around him.
Solomon's eyes look towards Nikolai, and then there's a smile. With the circle closed, he widens his arms, and then fire blossoms across the circle like a dome. Lines of red lightening begin to strike down at the hellhound, as he looks over at this newly-arrived cat.
However, the battle took a personal turn as Nikolai, reacting on impulse, smacked Korina’s butt, momentarily shattering the concentrated efforts against their foes. The act, meant in jest, left them vulnerable, snuffing out the globes of light Korina had summoned and plunging them momentarily back into darkness. Regretting his action, Nikolai’s golden armor exploded into brilliant sunlight, repelling the darkness once more, albeit at the cost of leaving him exposed. As the fight escalated, a hellhound formed from the infernal smoke, its phantom jaws closing on Nikolai, and it took the combined effort of Korina, now transformed into a snow leopard, and the continued magical assaults from Solomon and Elias, to finally encircle the group with a dome of protective fire. Lines of red lightning arced down, targeting the hellhound, as they looked toward the transformed Korina joining the fray, illustrating the chaos and solidarity of a group unyielding in the face of spectral invasion.
(Nikolai's ghost banishing)
[Thu Aug 1 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 96F(35C) degrees,
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.
Korina didn't walk right past. She was just scouting.
As smoke begins to fill the space, Solomon's chant picks up some speed. Broad hands open, and with each intoned syllable they trail a little smoke. "They come," he tells the assembled crowd.
Saoirse sniffs at the scent that seemed to appear from nowhere, squinting, as if looking around for the source, before spotting the mist. "Uhhh... Uhhhh..." Uncertainty clearly plagued her features, yet also resolve. Seeing another focusing, she set down into a meditative seat, seeming to focus intently.
"Charming" Elias mutters as the spirit begins to manifest, reaching to his belt he pulls out a bowie knife. But instead of taking any kind of defensive stance or any offensive stand, he remains rather causal for the moment. He holds the blade towards his palm, but pauses as he shifts his attention to Nikolai, observing his actions before moving forward.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Nikolai, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Nikolai can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
With that clap of the big Russian's hands, Nikolai steps back with the rising of the horned, hellish figures. Compared to certain other well-versed arcanists in the room, his methodology is not so intricate: he points his hammer at the spectres, and fire belches forth to burn away at whatever essence is contained within their ethereal forms. Nikolai doesn't need to understand the metaphysical mechanics of the interaction - he just shoots flame, and lets the practitioners handle the tricky stuff.
A low murmuring, some kind of chanted mantra, sounds from Saoirse. The words were recited with a precise intonation; it resembled, perhaps, a prayer chant. Her hands fold in front of her, as if grasping an invisible orb. Between the words, deep, rhythmic breaths were taken, steadily, in and out.
Of course, though, the fucking ghosts are magic. Nikolai takes half a step back as his eyes brighten with a familiar panic, his hand clutching at his chest - but only for a moment, before it falls away in a fit of improved confidence. He's not so afraid of his heart giving out, these days.
Korina is in no rush to get started with the incantations; she walks in holding a box of what seems like raw ingredients for a wagyu sirloin, eating along the way when she comes to stand near Nikolai, but the appearance of the ghosts is enough to put her appetite on the back burner for now. There's an immediate wrinkling of the nose, leaving the fancier incantation to the others while she simply brings motes of glowing light into existence in an effort to fight against the black mist that pervades - they hang high, like miniature suns through the air, glowing and spinning.
Solomon steps to the side; it's some lazy invocation, and then his hand makes some careful, complicated gesture. Lines of fire trail behind his pinky finger, and as he does he scribes some rune, hanging in the air. His eyes flash red, and then he moves, leaving it hanging there, beginning again. He is scribing some circle to wrap around this scene of conflict, leaving quarter-markers burning in the air.
Once he observes Nikolai's approach, Elias quickly moves to action. He draws the blade across his palm to cut a razor thin line across it, with some muttering under his breath that doesn't sound like any kind of incarnation, but more cursing. He clenches his fist closed to let blood trickle out onto the ground. He takes lowers himself to the ground where the true incarnations start. The dark haired man closes his eyes as he starts to whisper, at first quite but it starts to grow, "Spirit of the Wind, Spirit of the Forest, Spirit of the Sea, cast out this devil spirit. He does not belong here. He can not stay here." And with that, the crystals on his watch start to glow dimly, causing the speckled bits of blood on the ground to start to form icy shards upon them.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Nikolai, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
A rotation of the hands, as if Saoirse was shifting the 'orb' that she clutched in both hands, neatly in front of her. There was no flashy light to speak of, and no distinctly magical effects emanating from the woman; regardless, she seemed keen on assisting as best as she could. The intonation of her chant grew slightly louder, the language spoken clearly not some manner of English. A shiver ran through her at the emergence of the smoke-monsters, but even still, she continued to rotate the 'orb', the chanting and breathing continuing.
A second sign: Solomon arrives at the second quarter, and a bronze-bladed knife is produced. He slashes his palm, glancing at Nikolai, as he drips out blood. As soon as it hits the air, it begins to smoke and flare as he draws another symbol in the air.
Spectral armour slams into existence on Nikolai's skin, glowing with a golden light. It's not just a divine gift, but something concentrated - the greatest gift he carries. Withstanding the onslaught of the ghosts proves painless, for a while. Spikes grow from the armour, threatening to tangle lashing limbs and thrust-forth weapons, and the demigod shouts something in Russian, invoking the name Svarog.
There's a faint, low growl at the back of Korina's throat as the monsters of smoke advance towards Nikolai, and she shifts in front of him as a protector - an almost comical sight, considering his stature in comparison with hers, but the ferocity in her eyes is real, as is the swipe of claw-tipped fingers that go slashing through the air at the figures in the mist, making one of them glow up brightly as though that will slow them down - light against darkness.
Lifting his gaze from the ground, Elias focuses on Nikolai and the spirit manifesting before him. Whatever is garnered there, it spurs him on to quicken his work. With the tip of his blade, he starts to draw symbols around the blood in the dirt, "He must not remain. This spirit is not of this world and it should return to where forth it belongs." Tightening his balled up fist as he continues to chat from his kneeled position, the dart haired man opens his balled fist and places his palm into the dirt, letting the blood seep into the soil of the graveyard.
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Nikolai and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Solomon falters, as his head turns to some silent whisper. He was drawing a symbol, but instead his eyes go distant, finding some point of light out of view. His lips move, but it's wordless, as if saying some silent name.
Perhaps distracted by certain, lecherous ideas whispered into his ear, or perhaps simply making a display of things, Nikolai reaches forward and gives Korina's butt a good smack as she selflessly moves before him to burn away the shadows of the encroaching ghosts. Good job, Nikolai. Real professional. At least his flames are still burning hot - he's not quite a sorcerer, but they're impressive nonetheless.
A nosebleed sprung up on Saoirse 's face, a shudder running through her. Her breath was unsteadied for a moment, clearly unused to the sensations running through her. For a moment, the cadence of her chant was broken, but she resumed it, rotating her hands through convoluted motions.
Pushing himself forward with the ritual, Elias lets his voice carry through the cemetery as he calls out, "Spirit, I cast you out! Return to whatever depths of Sirina that have spawned you!" And with the whispers, it breaks Elias' concentration for a moment as mutters, "decadent desires fulfilled".
Whatever Korina was hearing and focused upon, it shatters apart in an instant when Nikolai's hand smacks against her skin, and she yelps out loud and shoots him a mildly betrayed look, right as all the globes of light in the air snuff out, letting the mist pervade once more. A double oopsie, as they say.
Well - Nikolai flashes Korina an apologetic glance as the light flees, and that golden armour explodes into light instead, evaporating like steam into rays of glorious sunlight. He can't sustain it for long, but it's better than leaving everyone in the dark due to his own impulsive action - but now his armour's gone, and he grimaces against the approach of the ghosts.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Nikolai and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
A firm gritting of her teeth, a slight whimper, as if the thin razor of death came for Saoirse ; these shattered her concentration for a moment, her eyes opening wide as if terrified of something. Her body jerked as if it wished, desperately to run, but she forced herself to remain seated, with her legs folded neatly beneath her. The chant was interrupted, but she resumed it, seeming to start all the way from the top again, though not before staring at the glowing radiance of the sunlight with a fascinated expression on her face. Her hands returned to their position in front of her, rotating around a central non-existent 'orb' in front of her chest.
Gripping his fist into the dirt as the strong wave of emotion washes over those present, but Elias doesn't show any other outward expression of it. He takes a deep break and continues with his chat, "Spirits of the Earth, expel this abomination that has entered this world, cast it out! Return it to where it belongs."
Korina takes an instinctive step back now, goosebumps rising along her skin and her eyes wide, pupils dilated as she shrinks close to Nikolai, a hand reaching out to clutch at the back of his jacket. Slowly, /slowly/ the light comes back on, though it's lit in shades of red this time, casting a bloodied glow across the surroundings where it tries and fails to pierce through the mist.
Solomon finds his way back to present reality, and he grits his teeth. He chants again -- he looks for the drip of blood, starting to let it make those sigils in the sky. The third quarter, drawn now, as he begins to pace towards the final quarter to draw the circle.
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 Nikolai, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
"Talk," Nikolai bites out, flinching backwards out of the way of that spectral sword. He'd much rather his head stay back on, whether the sword poses a real threat to him or not. "Banish this - isolation. I cannot understand what any of you are saying. Spare a fucking word in English." His flames gutter out for a moment as he turns his attention down to a small tablet in his jacket - and then he's loading up whatever slop's filling the front page of Youtube at the moment, playing loud and clear.
"WHAT'S UP GUUUUYZ, THIS IS..."
He almost looks to regret it, grimacing at the overly forced content. Back to the burning, then - up points the hammer, and out pours the flame.
Saoirse had little she could do to stop the events unfolding in front of her. After all, she already had gotten in -way- over her head. Regardless of the circumstance, the sudden blasting of the YouTuber seemed to shock her, the chant ceasing, as she said, "Oh hey, that's GamerGus99, I follow him... Uh..." She stopped talking, closing her eyes from the distraction, and refocusing on her efforts.
Taking no action as the creature bursts out of the smoke at Nikolai, Elias continues focusing on the task at hand. The blood and dirt around his hand continues to freeze as the energies of his ritual continue leaving a patch that looks very similar to a thick frost on the ground. He stabs his bowie knife into the ground pulling out some kind of ground up herb which he beings sprinkling on the ground, chanting, "Cleanse this foul creature from your lands, from your winds, from your view."
Now that last sigil scribed in the sky. Solomon steps out of the circle, breathing heavily, and then as he slashes his palm again he begins to cast out burning blood like a censor, sprinkling the dark eart of the cemetery with fire. His chant rises, as a burning circle begins to circle around Nikolai, Elias, Korina and Saoirse -- squaring off now the space to fight these monsters of smoke.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Nikolai with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
Clearly, Saoirse lacked any sort of way to combat these forces. Instead, she seemed to act as a stability point, an anchor. The smooth rhythmic chanting, and the rotation of the movements of her hands seemed to provide a sort of calm amidst the storm, something that the others, perhaps, could seize upon, and brace against, regardless of her lack of outwardly showy manifestations.
This is fine, it's fine. Korina takes a deep, deep breath; Nikolai's words have broken the silence, and then further still with the loud noise from his tablet, and the motes of light in the air take on a brighter cast now, red shifting to orange and yellow and every other color of the rainbow until they're all surrounded by dazzling iridescence that keeps the mist at bay for the most part.
Right as the hellhound closes in on Nikolai too - she growls, quite loud, the noise rumbling through her chest.
"I hate him," Nikolai decides with a grunt of finality. Fuck GamerGus99. "Solomon, Elias - I do not think they have much left to burn up. Are you - " He cuts off, seeing Solomon's rite come to fruition as that conflagrant ring beings to burn the air around it. The hellhound's not so disturbing to the Russian, though - he's well familiar with those, and Hellfire is something he's grown quite comfortable with. He wraps his free arm as best he can around the smoky, ghostly thing, but the ability to interact with ghosts does not well translate to the ability to grapple with them, and his limbs slowly sink through the not-so-impermeable fog.
Nope; she's had enough. Korina(snow leopard) goes pouncing straight for the smoky hellhound, tail lashing behind her as soon as the transformation is complete - she's either going to jump right through it, or she's going to end up tussling with it with claws and teeth, but the end result may be the same either way: it's going to have to let go of Nikolai.
There is no response to Nikolai, neither when he is attacked or when he calls out to Elias. Elias seems completely absorbed in his work as he continues to chant as the frost runs up his arm slowly, twinkling at the more flashy light magics being used around him, "Spirits of nature, spirits of the storm, you are needed. Accept my tribute of blood to cast out this spirit that does not belong in your domain!" And abruptly Elias goes silent and his eyes spring open, looking around him.
Solomon's eyes look towards Nikolai, and then there's a smile. With the circle closed, he widens his arms, and then fire blossoms across the circle like a dome. Lines of red lightening begin to strike down at the hellhound, as he looks over at this newly-arrived cat.