Patrollogs
(Sam's decursing attempt)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
In A black-painted bedroom
The walls of this room have been painted in a dark obsidian, making it somewhat hard to discern where the walls are.
No windows are present, and the lighting comes from for subtle spotlights in the corners of the room, casting only indirect light on the floor.
Around the bottom of the Northern, Southern, and Eastern wall, are a pair of simple green lines, breaking the dark gloom of the room somewhat.
Sprawling over the western wall, is a depiction of a large, bright green serpent, seemingly drawn like a cobra of sorts. It's maw is agape, and its fangs blinkering.
A Dark Red stain, roughly in the form of a triangle, sits in front of the circle, close to the western wall.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Pausing, Sam looks around a few moments, then nods to himself he checks his phone, and sighs.
Sam steps forward, grabbing the dagger with one hand, and narrowing his eyes. "Aight, don't be a bitch on me, wontcha?"
Bracing himself with both feet beneath him, Sam squints at the dagger, tilting his head aside as he glares. "What, just gonna be a bitch-ass curse and just... die in my hand?" He chuckles, roughly so.
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Sam, sending him flying.
Suddenly, that arch of lightning shoots from the dagger, and Sam sails through the room. He squints one eye shut, and pushes to his feet again. "That..." He walks to the marking on the floor of the western side of the room, and stabs the dagger into the floorboards there. "WAS RUDE!"
For several seconds the room grows painfully cold.
One hand stuck to the dagger's haft, Sam presses his free hand onto the dried blood on the floor, muttering softly, slowly moving along the three sides of the triangle, keeping the blade firmly lodged in the floor, right as a thin layer of frost starts to form on his form. "Fuckin..."
Keeping his one hand in place -firmly around the blade's handle-, Sam slowly starts to draw sigils around the dagger's location, stringing together symbols to go along one edge of the triangular shape of dried blood it lays in.
Continueing along the inside of that triangle, Sam adds a second line of sigils, muttering soft words under his breath as he does so. Slowly, the area around the dagger starts to grow darker, a hissing coming from the obsidian-painted walls of the room.
The artifact emits a flash of blinding light.
"SON OF A FUCK!" Sam lets out a low hiss, the flash making the jock recoil. He rubs at his eyes with his free hand, looking at the bone thing in his hand, and letting out a growl.
Furiously, Sam continues scrawling sigils, more angry this time as he slowly starts to close that triangle of sigils within the scarlet one already present. "Fucking... DIE!" He puts both hands onto that blade, breathing out slowly as he focusses his energy.
With a final burst of power the curse on a bone dagger is broken.
Sams Decursing Attempt 241209
(Sam's decursing attempt)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
In A black-painted bedroom
The walls of this room have been painted in a dark obsidian, making it somewhat hard to discern where the walls are.
No windows are present, and the lighting comes from for subtle spotlights in the corners of the room, casting only indirect light on the floor.
Around the bottom of the Northern, Southern, and Eastern wall, are a pair of simple green lines, breaking the dark gloom of the room somewhat.
Sprawling over the western wall, is a depiction of a large, bright green serpent, seemingly drawn like a cobra of sorts. It's maw is agape, and its fangs blinkering.
A Dark Red stain, roughly in the form of a triangle, sits in front of the circle, close to the western wall.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Pausing, Sam looks around a few moments, then nods to himself he checks his phone, and sighs.
Sam steps forward, grabbing the dagger with one hand, and narrowing his eyes. "Aight, don't be a bitch on me, wontcha?"
Bracing himself with both feet beneath him, Sam squints at the dagger, tilting his head aside as he glares. "What, just gonna be a bitch-ass curse and just... die in my hand?" He chuckles, roughly so.
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Sam, sending him flying.
Suddenly, that arch of lightning shoots from the dagger, and Sam sails through the room. He squints one eye shut, and pushes to his feet again. "That..." He walks to the marking on the floor of the western side of the room, and stabs the dagger into the floorboards there. "WAS RUDE!"
For several seconds the room grows painfully cold.
One hand stuck to the dagger's haft, Sam presses his free hand onto the dried blood on the floor, muttering softly, slowly moving along the three sides of the triangle, keeping the blade firmly lodged in the floor, right as a thin layer of frost starts to form on his form. "Fuckin..."
Keeping his one hand in place -firmly around the blade's handle-, Sam slowly starts to draw sigils around the dagger's location, stringing together symbols to go along one edge of the triangular shape of dried blood it lays in.
Continueing along the inside of that triangle, Sam adds a second line of sigils, muttering soft words under his breath as he does so. Slowly, the area around the dagger starts to grow darker, a hissing coming from the obsidian-painted walls of the room.
The artifact emits a flash of blinding light.
"SON OF A FUCK!" Sam lets out a low hiss, the flash making the jock recoil. He rubs at his eyes with his free hand, looking at the bone thing in his hand, and letting out a growl.
Furiously, Sam continues scrawling sigils, more angry this time as he slowly starts to close that triangle of sigils within the scarlet one already present. "Fucking... DIE!" He puts both hands onto that blade, breathing out slowly as he focusses his energy.
With a final burst of power the curse on a bone dagger is broken.