Patrollogs
(Solomon's decursing attempt)
[Wed Feb 14 2024]
In a discreet Uber Black sedan
economy safe car
|073 CZ6|
It is about 35F(1C) degrees.
Solomon says "I need assistance breaking the curse on a necklace. Join me, please, at my office."
"Well," Solomon tells Silas and Alexander. "Mr. Arkwright," he says, beginning to prepare some ritual space. "I would have expected you, but Mr. Murphy?" he says. "I'm glad to have you here." He pauses. "Miss McCormick should join us momentarily," he says. "Then we can go below and begin."
"...to break the curse, Mr. Murphy," Solomon tells Alexander. "I assume that's why you were drawn here."
"I promise," Solomon tells Alexander. "I do not plan on using you as the fuel for the magic to break this thing." He pauses. "That's what Miss McCormick is for."
"Ah, Charlie!" Solomon tells Charlene with a smile. "Follow me," he says. "Do you know Silas and Alexander?" he asks, introducing Silas and Alexander in turn. As he does, he goes to the bookshelf, looking for a book there -- with a push, a section of it slides aside, revealing a staircase down. "Suit yourself," he says to Alexander.
Producing an iron key, Solomon unlocks the door to the north. "These sorts of artifacts have some plague upon the town," he agrees.
"...but there is some value, of course, in all of it. Mr. Murphy, if you could stand to the east. That is where Eden was, after all, and you are the most Godly among us." Solomon closes the door. "Mr. Arkwright, the south, from which cold and fire both emanate. Charlie," he says. "The west -- the west is discovery. And I will take the north," he says, going to stand behind the high altar and set a golden necklace down upon it. As he does, he begins to chant. "I need a little blood," he shares. "I was going to ask Charlie, but if you are volunteering, Mr. Murphy -- well. I will mark that as a favor owed."
Alexander nods, and flicks a knife easily out of his clothes, drawing a cut on the back of his hand, stepping slowly towards Solomon to add it to the ritual. He's careful about it, he does not allow Solomon to interact with the blood otherwise.
Alexander says "I am sure she will be disappointed."
Silas steps into the chamber and looks around it once more, some familiarity showing in his features as he says, "It is better down here than upstairs at least." He follows Solomon's direction and moves towards the south now, standing in the designated spot.
Alexander cannot deny that the ritual space impresses him, but there's a quiet horror in his expression too, the goat headed figure... He gazes at the others and it's obvious there's some contempt in his eyes for the assembled.
"Which way is west?" Charlene asks, peering uncertainly at the alter. She shuffles around it to stand on the side that isn't occupied, tucking some loose hair behind her ears. "I think we had a class about this kind of stuff once."
Alexander says "Your crew is really something, Solomon."
"I need more than that," Solomon tells Alexander, producing some silver dish and a brass-bladed knife. "But I know Charlie will oblige," he says. "If you're unwilling." Reaching up, he removes his glasses, his red eyes all terrifying intensity.
Alexander says "I refuse. If Charlie wishes, she may. I know the cost of this ritual, you could pay it if you wish. I won't lend my powers to yours."
Alexander shifts back, he performs his part of the ritual otherwise. Not antagonistically, he genuinely participates to break the curse alongside the other practitioners.
There's an easy, lazy shrug to Alexander as Solomon turns to Charlene. "Your arm, Charlie," he says to her. "Mr. Murphy does not want to be owed some favor -- a perhaps unwise decision," he says. "But one that he can make." His eyes blaze red. "I do not force agreement: power comes to those who want it, not those who are forced to seize it."
"Ugh. I guess if I have to," Charlene remarks, scrunching her nose unenthusiastically. She takes off her jacket and moseys closer to the altar.
Alexander says "You extremely, do not have to."
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Solomon, sending him flying.
Silas gestures to one side of himself for Charlene's benefit now as he says, "There, once you're finished donating." He does seem to prepare himself some as well, steadying himself near the altar now and it seems with good reason, as Solomon is slammed with lightning from the damned necklace.
"Holy crap," Charlene says, flinching back with a startled look.
Alexander winces. "Sorry," there's some sincerity there, perhaps it was his error that failed to contain the power? He moves to adjust for Solomon's absence while he gets back into position.
As Solomon raises his blade to slice Charlene's arm, lightning blasts from the necklace. It hits me squarely, throwing me back into the statue of the black goat, and then there is a cry. A stumble, as some magical force in the room seems to waver. As the sorcerer stands again, he lets out a low oath in some unearthly tongue. "You are a novice to power," he tells Alexander. "Magic is not discrete: every working of power touches every other, like some interwoven lattice. It is an art, not a science." Breathing hard, he rasps at Charlene, "Come here!"
(re) As Solomon raises his blade to slice Charlene's arm, lightning blasts from the necklace. It hits Solomon squarely, throwing him back into the statue of the black goat, and then there is a cry. A stumble, as some magical force in the room seems to waver. As the sorcerer stands again, he lets out a low oath in some unearthly tongue. "You are a novice to power," he tells Alexander. "Magic is not discrete: every working of power touches every other, like some interwoven lattice. It is an art, not a science." Breathing hard, he rasps at Charlene, "Come here!"
Wincing in anticipation, Charlene sidles closer to Solomon and holds her arm out. "Okay. Just not too much, right? We got practice tomorrow and I can't be all woozy," she says, eyeing the lawyer guardedly. "I'm ready."
Alexander exhales and takes a deep breath. "My power is mine!" he declares. "I owe it to none! It springs forth from me naturally like breath. Fledgling it may be but do not underestimate my growth!" He scowls. His emotion seems to spring forth as he works into the ritual
For several seconds the room grows painfully hot.
Alexander gazes at Charlene, his expression is uncertain in how to appraise her. A normal student, perhaps? But also walked down into a satanists altar room and volunteered to be bled? He is vigilant in his watch of Solomon's interaction of her.
Staggering up, the bronze blade of Solomon's knife flashes -- it cuts deep into Charlene, and red blood begins to flow to fill the silver chalice. The sorcerer looks back to Alexander. "Your power is stolen and borrowed trappings," he tells the man. "It is nothing: it is merely grasping at the tattered cloak of those who truly command arcane might, Alexander. You owe it to those who came before -- and you owe it to that Prometheus which gave to all of us the secret fire that they try to keep from our hands." As the room goes hot, Solomon seems not to care at all, reveling in its fiery warmth.
The painful rise in heat seems to bother Silas as he shifts his stance and moves closer to the altar now, looking to Alexander and his vigilant watch over the interaction of the other two, "I have found when I think that something is mine, someone else can easily remind me that they can claim it if they wish. It is best to be cautious with your wording."
"Ow! Geeze," Charlene hisses, grimacing sharply as Solomon cuts into her skin. She plants her free hand on the altar to lean on it and holds her bleedding limb over the receptacle while breathing rapidly through her nose.
Alexander scowls. "Don't tell me of Prometheus! I burned my hand in flame to undo the infernal runes your master tried to work into this town!" Heat burns against him and he growls. "And I thanked him for the pain!" his burn has healed but it is a nasty and ugly bit of scarring on his left hand. "I thank those who came before me, and I will build on their legacy too!" He glowers at Silas. "Then let them, unlike you I know what is mine and what they can take from me. I have found, when I don't cower in fear, I accomplish a lot more. I will face the consequences!" Perhaps he's a little bolder when he's working his magic. He gazes at Charlene and it turns sympathetic.
Silas looks towards someone' bleeding and that silver container that the blood flows into. There is a hunger in his eyes before Alexander's words break him from that stare and he focuses on the man with semi-dull blue orbs, "I have a feeling you simply have not met someone who is willing to take everything from you and dangle it in front of you before handing it back, with stipulations. There are some truly awe inspiring powers in this world and others."
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Silas, sending him flying.
"It's not a good idea to yell at Mister Inigo, okay? Just saying," Charlene remarks to Alexander, peering across the altar at him with a dubious sort of look. "Besides, I--holy crap, are we even safe here?"
Silas looks towards Charlene's bleeding and that silver container that the blood flows into. There is a hunger in his eyes before Alexander's words break him from that stare and he focuses on the man with semi-dull blue orbs, "I have a feeling you simply have not met someone who is willing to take everything from you and dangle it in front of you before handing it back, with stipulations. There are some truly awe inspiring powers in this world and others." It seems like a good time to be hit by lightning and flung away now, perhaps an example of such power or at least a sample.
Dipping his fingers in the chalice of Charlene's blood, Solomon begins to flick it in a slow circle around the necklace. Some of it spatters red on the gold -- others flick against Charlene, Silas, and Alexander, before he reaches up to draw a rune in blood on his own forehead. "You will face the consequences," he says with basso threat to Alexander. "Banish fear. Fear is what holds you back," he says. "Fear of being slandered. Fear that if you seize your power to do what -you- believe is right," he says. "That someone will slander you for it. Fear that when you do what MUST be done you will be judged." His eyes blaze with red fire. "I do not fear," he says. "I see what I want and I take it, unafraid." As the lightning lances into Silas, Solomon says, "Up, man! We are nearly there!"
Silas presses a hand backwards as he is flung away from the altar now and with momentum stalling from some invisible force he begins to catch himself now and balance once again, moving closer and attending his spot as one of the cardinal directions in Solomon's ritual.
Alexander shifts to try to contain the energy as Silas is blasted away, he grows low, focused on the ritual. "I will be me. I will not contribute to the shadow growing over this world..." He says quietly, settling in to his work. "It isn't fear that stays my hand..."
Charlene withdraws her arm and covers the cut with a palm, watching Solomon and the necklace with a certain wary fascination. "Where did you even find that thing?" she asks. "In the ruins of an ancient Indian casino?"
All metal objects in the room are suddenly tugged violently towards the artifact.
Solomon tells Charlene, his voice low as he works some arcane gesture, "I have many agents: one delivered it unto me, Charlie." He looks back at Alexander. "It is fear. It is the shackles of 'virtue'," he says. "There is virtue in the world, but it is not conventional -- what they call morality is just a prison to keep you from grasping at power. What you -do- with that power?" The knife flies from his hand, clattering towards the altar, and then a pendant around his neck is lifted out to be pulled close.
Silas finds himself pulled towards the object, tugged and yanked. HIs right hand moves more than anything else, those rings being pulled in that direction.
Alexander groans pulled forth he digs his feet into the ground as he slides, grabbing the altar and pulling back when the force ends. He takes a deep steadying breath. "Virtue isn't fear. It's the wisdom that knows what we do together is greater than what we do by ourselves." Hesteadies himself and stands at full height as the ritual begins to draw closed
Charlene lets out a startled squeal and lurches forward as her earrings tug at her earlobes. Bracing her palms against the altar, she remarks, "Sheesh, it better be valuable. If we don't get out of here alive, I'm gonna be pissed."
"It is," Solomon tells Alexander. "But your Order does not call that virtue -- for them, virtue is refusing power. They say power, by its nature, is corrupt." He raises his hand, scribing some sigil now in fire, his voice booming.
With a final burst of power the curse on a golden necklace is broken.
Solomons Decursing Attempt 240215
(Solomon's decursing attempt)
[Wed Feb 14 2024]
In a discreet Uber Black sedan
economy safe car
|073 CZ6|
It is about 35F(1C) degrees.
Solomon says "I need assistance breaking the curse on a necklace. Join me, please, at my office."
"Well," Solomon tells Silas and Alexander. "Mr. Arkwright," he says, beginning to prepare some ritual space. "I would have expected you, but Mr. Murphy?" he says. "I'm glad to have you here." He pauses. "Miss McCormick should join us momentarily," he says. "Then we can go below and begin."
"...to break the curse, Mr. Murphy," Solomon tells Alexander. "I assume that's why you were drawn here."
"I promise," Solomon tells Alexander. "I do not plan on using you as the fuel for the magic to break this thing." He pauses. "That's what Miss McCormick is for."
"Ah, Charlie!" Solomon tells Charlene with a smile. "Follow me," he says. "Do you know Silas and Alexander?" he asks, introducing Silas and Alexander in turn. As he does, he goes to the bookshelf, looking for a book there -- with a push, a section of it slides aside, revealing a staircase down. "Suit yourself," he says to Alexander.
Producing an iron key, Solomon unlocks the door to the north. "These sorts of artifacts have some plague upon the town," he agrees.
"...but there is some value, of course, in all of it. Mr. Murphy, if you could stand to the east. That is where Eden was, after all, and you are the most Godly among us." Solomon closes the door. "Mr. Arkwright, the south, from which cold and fire both emanate. Charlie," he says. "The west -- the west is discovery. And I will take the north," he says, going to stand behind the high altar and set a golden necklace down upon it. As he does, he begins to chant. "I need a little blood," he shares. "I was going to ask Charlie, but if you are volunteering, Mr. Murphy -- well. I will mark that as a favor owed."
Alexander nods, and flicks a knife easily out of his clothes, drawing a cut on the back of his hand, stepping slowly towards Solomon to add it to the ritual. He's careful about it, he does not allow Solomon to interact with the blood otherwise.
Alexander says "I am sure she will be disappointed."
Silas steps into the chamber and looks around it once more, some familiarity showing in his features as he says, "It is better down here than upstairs at least." He follows Solomon's direction and moves towards the south now, standing in the designated spot.
Alexander cannot deny that the ritual space impresses him, but there's a quiet horror in his expression too, the goat headed figure... He gazes at the others and it's obvious there's some contempt in his eyes for the assembled.
"Which way is west?" Charlene asks, peering uncertainly at the alter. She shuffles around it to stand on the side that isn't occupied, tucking some loose hair behind her ears. "I think we had a class about this kind of stuff once."
Alexander says "Your crew is really something, Solomon."
"I need more than that," Solomon tells Alexander, producing some silver dish and a brass-bladed knife. "But I know Charlie will oblige," he says. "If you're unwilling." Reaching up, he removes his glasses, his red eyes all terrifying intensity.
Alexander says "I refuse. If Charlie wishes, she may. I know the cost of this ritual, you could pay it if you wish. I won't lend my powers to yours."
Alexander shifts back, he performs his part of the ritual otherwise. Not antagonistically, he genuinely participates to break the curse alongside the other practitioners.
There's an easy, lazy shrug to Alexander as Solomon turns to Charlene. "Your arm, Charlie," he says to her. "Mr. Murphy does not want to be owed some favor -- a perhaps unwise decision," he says. "But one that he can make." His eyes blaze red. "I do not force agreement: power comes to those who want it, not those who are forced to seize it."
"Ugh. I guess if I have to," Charlene remarks, scrunching her nose unenthusiastically. She takes off her jacket and moseys closer to the altar.
Alexander says "You extremely, do not have to."
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Solomon, sending him flying.
Silas gestures to one side of himself for Charlene's benefit now as he says, "There, once you're finished donating." He does seem to prepare himself some as well, steadying himself near the altar now and it seems with good reason, as Solomon is slammed with lightning from the damned necklace.
"Holy crap," Charlene says, flinching back with a startled look.
Alexander winces. "Sorry," there's some sincerity there, perhaps it was his error that failed to contain the power? He moves to adjust for Solomon's absence while he gets back into position.
As Solomon raises his blade to slice Charlene's arm, lightning blasts from the necklace. It hits me squarely, throwing me back into the statue of the black goat, and then there is a cry. A stumble, as some magical force in the room seems to waver. As the sorcerer stands again, he lets out a low oath in some unearthly tongue. "You are a novice to power," he tells Alexander. "Magic is not discrete: every working of power touches every other, like some interwoven lattice. It is an art, not a science." Breathing hard, he rasps at Charlene, "Come here!"
(re) As Solomon raises his blade to slice Charlene's arm, lightning blasts from the necklace. It hits Solomon squarely, throwing him back into the statue of the black goat, and then there is a cry. A stumble, as some magical force in the room seems to waver. As the sorcerer stands again, he lets out a low oath in some unearthly tongue. "You are a novice to power," he tells Alexander. "Magic is not discrete: every working of power touches every other, like some interwoven lattice. It is an art, not a science." Breathing hard, he rasps at Charlene, "Come here!"
Wincing in anticipation, Charlene sidles closer to Solomon and holds her arm out. "Okay. Just not too much, right? We got practice tomorrow and I can't be all woozy," she says, eyeing the lawyer guardedly. "I'm ready."
Alexander exhales and takes a deep breath. "My power is mine!" he declares. "I owe it to none! It springs forth from me naturally like breath. Fledgling it may be but do not underestimate my growth!" He scowls. His emotion seems to spring forth as he works into the ritual
For several seconds the room grows painfully hot.
Alexander gazes at Charlene, his expression is uncertain in how to appraise her. A normal student, perhaps? But also walked down into a satanists altar room and volunteered to be bled? He is vigilant in his watch of Solomon's interaction of her.
Staggering up, the bronze blade of Solomon's knife flashes -- it cuts deep into Charlene, and red blood begins to flow to fill the silver chalice. The sorcerer looks back to Alexander. "Your power is stolen and borrowed trappings," he tells the man. "It is nothing: it is merely grasping at the tattered cloak of those who truly command arcane might, Alexander. You owe it to those who came before -- and you owe it to that Prometheus which gave to all of us the secret fire that they try to keep from our hands." As the room goes hot, Solomon seems not to care at all, reveling in its fiery warmth.
The painful rise in heat seems to bother Silas as he shifts his stance and moves closer to the altar now, looking to Alexander and his vigilant watch over the interaction of the other two, "I have found when I think that something is mine, someone else can easily remind me that they can claim it if they wish. It is best to be cautious with your wording."
"Ow! Geeze," Charlene hisses, grimacing sharply as Solomon cuts into her skin. She plants her free hand on the altar to lean on it and holds her bleedding limb over the receptacle while breathing rapidly through her nose.
Alexander scowls. "Don't tell me of Prometheus! I burned my hand in flame to undo the infernal runes your master tried to work into this town!" Heat burns against him and he growls. "And I thanked him for the pain!" his burn has healed but it is a nasty and ugly bit of scarring on his left hand. "I thank those who came before me, and I will build on their legacy too!" He glowers at Silas. "Then let them, unlike you I know what is mine and what they can take from me. I have found, when I don't cower in fear, I accomplish a lot more. I will face the consequences!" Perhaps he's a little bolder when he's working his magic. He gazes at Charlene and it turns sympathetic.
Silas looks towards someone' bleeding and that silver container that the blood flows into. There is a hunger in his eyes before Alexander's words break him from that stare and he focuses on the man with semi-dull blue orbs, "I have a feeling you simply have not met someone who is willing to take everything from you and dangle it in front of you before handing it back, with stipulations. There are some truly awe inspiring powers in this world and others."
An arc of lightning blasts out of the artifact to strike Silas, sending him flying.
"It's not a good idea to yell at Mister Inigo, okay? Just saying," Charlene remarks to Alexander, peering across the altar at him with a dubious sort of look. "Besides, I--holy crap, are we even safe here?"
Silas looks towards Charlene's bleeding and that silver container that the blood flows into. There is a hunger in his eyes before Alexander's words break him from that stare and he focuses on the man with semi-dull blue orbs, "I have a feeling you simply have not met someone who is willing to take everything from you and dangle it in front of you before handing it back, with stipulations. There are some truly awe inspiring powers in this world and others." It seems like a good time to be hit by lightning and flung away now, perhaps an example of such power or at least a sample.
Dipping his fingers in the chalice of Charlene's blood, Solomon begins to flick it in a slow circle around the necklace. Some of it spatters red on the gold -- others flick against Charlene, Silas, and Alexander, before he reaches up to draw a rune in blood on his own forehead. "You will face the consequences," he says with basso threat to Alexander. "Banish fear. Fear is what holds you back," he says. "Fear of being slandered. Fear that if you seize your power to do what -you- believe is right," he says. "That someone will slander you for it. Fear that when you do what MUST be done you will be judged." His eyes blaze with red fire. "I do not fear," he says. "I see what I want and I take it, unafraid." As the lightning lances into Silas, Solomon says, "Up, man! We are nearly there!"
Silas presses a hand backwards as he is flung away from the altar now and with momentum stalling from some invisible force he begins to catch himself now and balance once again, moving closer and attending his spot as one of the cardinal directions in Solomon's ritual.
Alexander shifts to try to contain the energy as Silas is blasted away, he grows low, focused on the ritual. "I will be me. I will not contribute to the shadow growing over this world..." He says quietly, settling in to his work. "It isn't fear that stays my hand..."
Charlene withdraws her arm and covers the cut with a palm, watching Solomon and the necklace with a certain wary fascination. "Where did you even find that thing?" she asks. "In the ruins of an ancient Indian casino?"
All metal objects in the room are suddenly tugged violently towards the artifact.
Solomon tells Charlene, his voice low as he works some arcane gesture, "I have many agents: one delivered it unto me, Charlie." He looks back at Alexander. "It is fear. It is the shackles of 'virtue'," he says. "There is virtue in the world, but it is not conventional -- what they call morality is just a prison to keep you from grasping at power. What you -do- with that power?" The knife flies from his hand, clattering towards the altar, and then a pendant around his neck is lifted out to be pulled close.
Silas finds himself pulled towards the object, tugged and yanked. HIs right hand moves more than anything else, those rings being pulled in that direction.
Alexander groans pulled forth he digs his feet into the ground as he slides, grabbing the altar and pulling back when the force ends. He takes a deep steadying breath. "Virtue isn't fear. It's the wisdom that knows what we do together is greater than what we do by ourselves." Hesteadies himself and stands at full height as the ritual begins to draw closed
Charlene lets out a startled squeal and lurches forward as her earrings tug at her earlobes. Bracing her palms against the altar, she remarks, "Sheesh, it better be valuable. If we don't get out of here alive, I'm gonna be pissed."
"It is," Solomon tells Alexander. "But your Order does not call that virtue -- for them, virtue is refusing power. They say power, by its nature, is corrupt." He raises his hand, scribing some sigil now in fire, his voice booming.
With a final burst of power the curse on a golden necklace is broken.