Patrollogs
(Sam's decursing attempt)
[Tue Oct 29 2024]
At the Intersection of Prospect Street and Mariner's Highway
Stretching east and west is this one long and dusty highway road. The
asphalt of the pavement has seen a better day; it's patched and worn,
crumbling at the edges of its shoulders where an abundance of wild grasses
takes over. They slump into low ditches at the sides where water is meant
to pool, and beyond that are weak fences and forested property to the south,
as well as rolling hills to the north.
It is morning, about 54F(12C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
Sam says "Ah, no... but can I help ya?"
Sam nods to Illyana, and moves his hands behind his back. "I can move."
Sam says "Got a good place to uh... do this? Could do my place."
Sam stops, and looks the dagger over slowly. "So, uh, major bad juju from this thing." He pauses. "No, not at all. Talk me through it."
Sam says "All... right."
"What are you feeling from it?" Illyana asks Sam, stepping up to look at the dagger. She doesn't do anything yet, letting Sam and Gabriella come up with ideas.
Sam mutters, grabbing the dagger. "Well, here goes. Hail fuckin' mary." He slices the dagger across his palm, letting the blood fall onto the grass. "Uh, any advice, beyond hoping hard... please do give it. Thanks." He clarifies, and closes his eyes. "Nuthing as of yet."
While Sam gets ready, or Gabriella waits for her help to be needed, she takes a good look at Illyana, and then comments, "love the glasses, you're looking good. Doing good?"
"Everyone does it in a different way; Magic is about belief and symbology, not standardized methodology." Illyana explains to Sam and Gabriella in tones that suggest it was said to her and she's just parroting.
"I'm doing aweful, actually." Illyana tells Gabriella. "But I'll manage. Watching Sam cut his palm, she nods. "Life force is a good start.""
Sam nods his head, slowly. "So we just..." He squeezes the bloodied hand over the dagger's hilt. "Oi, dagger." He speaks to the thing, sounding entirely unsure. "Get fucked, aight?" He looks to Illyana, as if for approval.
Gabriella is seeing that Sam is having some trouble, and so she tries to help. "Here", she says and reaches with her hands to his, "let me help." She holds the hands that hold the dagger, and tells Illyana "you're looking well at least..." before focusing down on the dagger and telling Sam "Hey... Sam, isn't it?, just... focus that feeling on the dagger, like... you can say it but you don't need to, you need to... want it, you know?"
A section of Gabriella's clothing catches fire.
"Fuck!" Gabriella yelps and lets go of Sam's hands, instantly regretting trying to help. No good deed goes unpunished, she should know that! Her new sweater's sleeve starts catching fire, and she hits it with the other arm's sleeve, shouting at each hit "out, out, out!"
Sam nods his head slowly, looking towards Gabriella. "So just focus my anger? I can do that." He scowls, glaring at the dagger. "Stop. Fucking... PLAYING WITH ME!" A yelp escapes his lips as Gabriella liberality catches fire! "W-wha..." He wavers. Then, when the fire is adressed, he re-focusses. "OI! FUCKFACE! IM TALKIN' TO YA!"
Illyana nods to Sam. "I'll do something at the end." she offers, watching Gabriella's clothing set on fire and creating a small pinprick of fire on the tip of a finger that begins to shift from a warm white-gold through shades of yellow-orange and into an infernal red that gives off the scent of brimstone. "It's not me for once." she observes, watching the flailing with canded interest. "I feel a little better actually."
"Well, thank you very much, what a great friend you are!" Gabriella vents her anger at the curse towards Illyana.
For several seconds the room grows painfully cold.
Sam seems to be getting into it, maybe he has some bottled up feelings. "You're a fecking dagger. Look atcha. What are you trying to do, hex me?" He barks out a rough chuckle. "FUCK YOUR SHIT, YA HEAR?" He is just ranting now. "I'm done playing these games. Fuck you. Fuck your magic, fuck this curse, and FUCK!" He just trails off, his eyes and face simmering with rage, blood slowly staining the dagger in his hand.
As the room freezes, Illyana's aura stretches out over Gabriella and Sam, the temperature rising to compensate.
"That's better..." Gabriella keeps herself in check, tensing her jaw to avoid it from clattering, and giving Sam an approval nod. Then.. instead of approaching the dagger again, she checks her phone. Teens.
Sam continues his rant. "Oh, you think you can out-cold the storm caller? I WAS NAKED IN HIS BULLSHIT, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" He yams the dagger into the ground, now, slowly dripping a circle of blood around it. It's obvious he's just doing what he thinks might help, or, as one might say, winging it.
Gabriella looks surprised as Sam calls himself storm caller, frowns as he mentions being naked in someone's bullshit, but in the end is to shiver as she feels some chill - and steps closer to Illyana and her aura's heat.
The pin prick of fire on the tip of Illyana's finger grows to flow across and fill Illyana's palm, an incipid burning globe of hostility. "Good job." she congratulates Sam as Gabriella steps closer.
All metal objects in the room are suddenly tugged violently towards the artifact.
Sam seems, utterly, painfully mundane. To any outsider, this is a jocky idiot, yelling at a bone dagger, next to the street. He ticks a nod to Illyana, and picks up the dagger again, giving into his frustrated sounding rant. "I am..." He stabs the dagger in the middle of that circle, even as his pack flies off his back, a knife and gun flying out and clattering against his hand. "DONE!" He stabs the knife into the ground again, a frustrated hand, knuckles bloodied slapping the hunting knife and gun- a glock handgun, aside.
Illyana snarls as her choker tries to rip its way free, clamping a hand against it. "It didn't like that." she tells Sam. "It's trying to lash out."
Gabriella wanted to focus on her phone, but away it goes, falling on the ground, just like all the bangles of her bracelet suddenly point towards Sam's dagger, which seems to be acting like a magnet. "Stupid c-" she starts to mutter, trying to step forward and at the moment realizing that also the heels on her boots have metal.
Sam pants heavily, the circle of blood trembling... or is that just his hands? He just keeps stabbing that dagger in the center of the circle, his free hand punching the ground. Stab. Punch. Stab. Punch. Stab. Punch. His nostrils flare as he seems to be looking for words, for something that he's never accessed before. "...I'm sorry. Just... Just let go, aight?" He nods slowly. "Just go. Fuck off. Don't look back, yeh?"
Illyana too steps closer; Modern clothing is perpetually full of metal from studs in jeans, to eyelets in shoes and boots, to zips.
Gabriella finally manages to pick her phone off the ground, and comments, this time to Sam, "I hope that's not loaded..." After all, it is a gun on the loose, clattering on the ground and all that, guns sometimes misfire, right? "No-" she then comments as Sam starts weakening, "don't go soft on that stupid curse now, it must fuck off, like, with prejudice, alright? Show to it that no matter what it tries, we're gonna push it off."
A section of Sam's clothing catches fire.
Deciding this is going well, Illyana starts to toss the tiny fireball in her palm like a baseball as she watches Sam work- Then, his clothing catches fire and she cant help but to let a snort of laughter escape. "You've got this." she assures the man. "I wont even need to do anything if you keep it up. Nearly done."
Sam is snapped out of it, both by Gabriella's words, and by his jacket catching fire. He bats at the fire, then starts stabbing again, much harder. With malice, almost. "OH WE'S GONNA BE LIKE THAT?" He slashes the dagger across his arm, and lets the blood seep onto the center of the circle, stabbing again, again, again, and again. "Fuck you..." He raises his voice. "Fuck... You!" He shouts now, blood simmering into that circle, but never quite leaving it. Coincidence, perhaps. His voice lowers to a growl. "If you ain't gonna cooperate, know what you can do, kid?" He smashes the dagger into the center, his voice sounding out, pain, frustration and above all, seething anger in his voice. "FUCKEN' DIE!"
"Yeah, that's more like it..." Gabriella tells Sam, without half the emotion those words deserve, and distracting herself, briefly, with sending a text.
With a final burst of power the curse on a bone dagger is broken.
Sams Decursing Attempt 241102
(Sam's decursing attempt)
[Tue Oct 29 2024]
At the Intersection of Prospect Street and Mariner's Highway
Stretching east and west is this one long and dusty highway road. The
asphalt of the pavement has seen a better day; it's patched and worn,
crumbling at the edges of its shoulders where an abundance of wild grasses
takes over. They slump into low ditches at the sides where water is meant
to pool, and beyond that are weak fences and forested property to the south,
as well as rolling hills to the north.
It is morning, about 54F(12C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
Sam says "Ah, no... but can I help ya?"
Sam nods to Illyana, and moves his hands behind his back. "I can move."
Sam says "Got a good place to uh... do this? Could do my place."
Sam stops, and looks the dagger over slowly. "So, uh, major bad juju from this thing." He pauses. "No, not at all. Talk me through it."
Sam says "All... right."
"What are you feeling from it?" Illyana asks Sam, stepping up to look at the dagger. She doesn't do anything yet, letting Sam and Gabriella come up with ideas.
Sam mutters, grabbing the dagger. "Well, here goes. Hail fuckin' mary." He slices the dagger across his palm, letting the blood fall onto the grass. "Uh, any advice, beyond hoping hard... please do give it. Thanks." He clarifies, and closes his eyes. "Nuthing as of yet."
While Sam gets ready, or Gabriella waits for her help to be needed, she takes a good look at Illyana, and then comments, "love the glasses, you're looking good. Doing good?"
"Everyone does it in a different way; Magic is about belief and symbology, not standardized methodology." Illyana explains to Sam and Gabriella in tones that suggest it was said to her and she's just parroting.
"I'm doing aweful, actually." Illyana tells Gabriella. "But I'll manage. Watching Sam cut his palm, she nods. "Life force is a good start.""
Sam nods his head, slowly. "So we just..." He squeezes the bloodied hand over the dagger's hilt. "Oi, dagger." He speaks to the thing, sounding entirely unsure. "Get fucked, aight?" He looks to Illyana, as if for approval.
Gabriella is seeing that Sam is having some trouble, and so she tries to help. "Here", she says and reaches with her hands to his, "let me help." She holds the hands that hold the dagger, and tells Illyana "you're looking well at least..." before focusing down on the dagger and telling Sam "Hey... Sam, isn't it?, just... focus that feeling on the dagger, like... you can say it but you don't need to, you need to... want it, you know?"
A section of Gabriella's clothing catches fire.
"Fuck!" Gabriella yelps and lets go of Sam's hands, instantly regretting trying to help. No good deed goes unpunished, she should know that! Her new sweater's sleeve starts catching fire, and she hits it with the other arm's sleeve, shouting at each hit "out, out, out!"
Sam nods his head slowly, looking towards Gabriella. "So just focus my anger? I can do that." He scowls, glaring at the dagger. "Stop. Fucking... PLAYING WITH ME!" A yelp escapes his lips as Gabriella liberality catches fire! "W-wha..." He wavers. Then, when the fire is adressed, he re-focusses. "OI! FUCKFACE! IM TALKIN' TO YA!"
Illyana nods to Sam. "I'll do something at the end." she offers, watching Gabriella's clothing set on fire and creating a small pinprick of fire on the tip of a finger that begins to shift from a warm white-gold through shades of yellow-orange and into an infernal red that gives off the scent of brimstone. "It's not me for once." she observes, watching the flailing with canded interest. "I feel a little better actually."
"Well, thank you very much, what a great friend you are!" Gabriella vents her anger at the curse towards Illyana.
For several seconds the room grows painfully cold.
Sam seems to be getting into it, maybe he has some bottled up feelings. "You're a fecking dagger. Look atcha. What are you trying to do, hex me?" He barks out a rough chuckle. "FUCK YOUR SHIT, YA HEAR?" He is just ranting now. "I'm done playing these games. Fuck you. Fuck your magic, fuck this curse, and FUCK!" He just trails off, his eyes and face simmering with rage, blood slowly staining the dagger in his hand.
As the room freezes, Illyana's aura stretches out over Gabriella and Sam, the temperature rising to compensate.
"That's better..." Gabriella keeps herself in check, tensing her jaw to avoid it from clattering, and giving Sam an approval nod. Then.. instead of approaching the dagger again, she checks her phone. Teens.
Sam continues his rant. "Oh, you think you can out-cold the storm caller? I WAS NAKED IN HIS BULLSHIT, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" He yams the dagger into the ground, now, slowly dripping a circle of blood around it. It's obvious he's just doing what he thinks might help, or, as one might say, winging it.
Gabriella looks surprised as Sam calls himself storm caller, frowns as he mentions being naked in someone's bullshit, but in the end is to shiver as she feels some chill - and steps closer to Illyana and her aura's heat.
The pin prick of fire on the tip of Illyana's finger grows to flow across and fill Illyana's palm, an incipid burning globe of hostility. "Good job." she congratulates Sam as Gabriella steps closer.
All metal objects in the room are suddenly tugged violently towards the artifact.
Sam seems, utterly, painfully mundane. To any outsider, this is a jocky idiot, yelling at a bone dagger, next to the street. He ticks a nod to Illyana, and picks up the dagger again, giving into his frustrated sounding rant. "I am..." He stabs the dagger in the middle of that circle, even as his pack flies off his back, a knife and gun flying out and clattering against his hand. "DONE!" He stabs the knife into the ground again, a frustrated hand, knuckles bloodied slapping the hunting knife and gun- a glock handgun, aside.
Illyana snarls as her choker tries to rip its way free, clamping a hand against it. "It didn't like that." she tells Sam. "It's trying to lash out."
Gabriella wanted to focus on her phone, but away it goes, falling on the ground, just like all the bangles of her bracelet suddenly point towards Sam's dagger, which seems to be acting like a magnet. "Stupid c-" she starts to mutter, trying to step forward and at the moment realizing that also the heels on her boots have metal.
Sam pants heavily, the circle of blood trembling... or is that just his hands? He just keeps stabbing that dagger in the center of the circle, his free hand punching the ground. Stab. Punch. Stab. Punch. Stab. Punch. His nostrils flare as he seems to be looking for words, for something that he's never accessed before. "...I'm sorry. Just... Just let go, aight?" He nods slowly. "Just go. Fuck off. Don't look back, yeh?"
Illyana too steps closer; Modern clothing is perpetually full of metal from studs in jeans, to eyelets in shoes and boots, to zips.
Gabriella finally manages to pick her phone off the ground, and comments, this time to Sam, "I hope that's not loaded..." After all, it is a gun on the loose, clattering on the ground and all that, guns sometimes misfire, right? "No-" she then comments as Sam starts weakening, "don't go soft on that stupid curse now, it must fuck off, like, with prejudice, alright? Show to it that no matter what it tries, we're gonna push it off."
A section of Sam's clothing catches fire.
Deciding this is going well, Illyana starts to toss the tiny fireball in her palm like a baseball as she watches Sam work- Then, his clothing catches fire and she cant help but to let a snort of laughter escape. "You've got this." she assures the man. "I wont even need to do anything if you keep it up. Nearly done."
Sam is snapped out of it, both by Gabriella's words, and by his jacket catching fire. He bats at the fire, then starts stabbing again, much harder. With malice, almost. "OH WE'S GONNA BE LIKE THAT?" He slashes the dagger across his arm, and lets the blood seep onto the center of the circle, stabbing again, again, again, and again. "Fuck you..." He raises his voice. "Fuck... You!" He shouts now, blood simmering into that circle, but never quite leaving it. Coincidence, perhaps. His voice lowers to a growl. "If you ain't gonna cooperate, know what you can do, kid?" He smashes the dagger into the center, his voice sounding out, pain, frustration and above all, seething anger in his voice. "FUCKEN' DIE!"
"Yeah, that's more like it..." Gabriella tells Sam, without half the emotion those words deserve, and distracting herself, briefly, with sending a text.
With a final burst of power the curse on a bone dagger is broken.