Patrollogs
Sophies Ghost Banishing 250209
On a chilling night at Arkwright Cemetery, Sophie and Colton find themselves embroiled in a terrifying encounter with menacing, ghostly apparitions. As a palpable sense of fear and dread fills the air, exacerbated by the eerie, demonic shapes forming from the swirling, black mist, Sophie, despite her lack of psychic abilities, suggests an improvised defense tactic. However, she quickly resorts to her revolver when the situation intensifies, although her initial attempt at firing at the ghosts results merely in a bullet lodged into a gravestone. Meanwhile, Colton attempts to leverage his control over the soil of the cemetery, conjuring a protective whirlwind of earth to fend off the spirits, their sinister promises of fulfilling depraved desires momentarily disorienting the duo.
The situation escalates as the ghosts manipulate Sophie and Colton's emotions, drawing out their worst fears and desires. Sophie, caught in a moment of vulnerability, instinctively seeks comfort in Colton, a move that momentarily disrupts his concentration. Colton, recognizing the ghosts' manipulative tactics, rebuffs her advances in an attempt to maintain focus. Despite the setback, Sophie bravely continues to fire her revolver at the encroaching spirits. The climax of their harrowing ordeal comes when a ghostly hellhound attacks Sophie, its phantom bite imbuing her with visions of torment. Through perseverance, Sophie manages to land a shot directly through the smoke-formed beast. In the end, their combined efforts culminate in the dissipation of the malignant presence, the cemetery once again enveloped in calm as the spirits are banished, leaving Sophie and Colton to recover from their ordeal amidst the now-peaceful gravestones.
(Sophie's ghost banishing)
[Sat Feb 8 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 7F(-13C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
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.
"What psychic powers?!" Sophie, decidedly the most unpsychic anyone has ever been, demands of Colton, though her mouth snaps shut immediately as she spies the smoke beginning to coil its way across the dark soil, a shiver wracking its way down her spine. Not slowly, and definitely not subtly, she slinks closer to Colton. "Throw dirt at it," she tells him, like it's her own idea.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sophie 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.
Blowing out a slow breath, Colton reaches his arms outwards and curls his fingers into fists. The top inch or so of the soil lifts slowly into the air, catching and reflecting some of that infernal red glow from the spirits' appearance. He begins to turn in place very slowly to begin with, and after a lull, the floating earth deigns to follow suit, drifting in lazy circles around him. "Give me a minute," he snaps, frowning. "I need momentum. You're going to have to hold them off for a mome-" His breath hitches in his throat as he glances quickly over Sophie's way, scanning her for injuries. "God, just try the fucking bullets," he mutters. "And we'll see how fine my control can stay."
"Me?" Sophie's voice is definitely not squeaky at all, no, at the prospect of holding the smoke off. She fumbles for her revolver, another little shiver making its way down her spine, cold and fear mixed in one unpleasant trickle of emotion that feels like ice. She lifts her revolver, hand trembling just a tiny bit, "Y-yeah, fine, I'll--"
CRACK!.
Maybe that bullet might've done something if it didn't decide to embed itself in a gravestone instead. "Shit."
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Sophie and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Colton doesn't flinch from the report, exactly, but there's a flash of angry chaos in the stream of grave soil flying around nonetheless. If the silhouettes of faces twisted in ecstatic pleasure, bodies bent and contoured up to where they meet each other, well - that's not his work, it's the ghost's. It's rather incriminating, though, the way that woman appears to be getting stretched out by that half-formed man, a lonely first tangled up in the loose earth.
Colton spins faster and faster, forcing his attention away from the lurid imagery appearing within the clouds, and soon enough the apparitions smooth away as the soil picks up speed, lifting into a whirlwind that riddles tiny holes through the animus of the demonic spirits - tiny grain-sized holes that knit closed shortly afterwards, but there is damage being done.
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Sophie ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Sophie is not having a good time. There's another shudder down her spine, and her attempts at shooting off another bullet find the whispers in her ears first; her hand stills, specks of Colton's grave-dirt finding itself splattered on the white of her coat and her skirt, and there's a flush rising to her cheeks, dark and demanding. She slips closer to Colton now, wading her way through his spinning until she's caught his arm to still him. "Hey," comes the soft, soft word, demanding his attention, and then she's leaning up, lips yearning to meet his, unmistakably.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sophie 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.
Amidst his spinning faster and faster and faster, Colton has to come to a furious, skidding stop in order to not accidentally smack Sophie right across the face with his outstretched fists. "Sophie!" he barks, wobbling in place and shoving her back down by the shoulder. "Is this your first fucking time dealing with ghosts?" He bares his teeth at her, features drawn into a harsh, wrathful expression - and then he just pushes her back creating a little room. "They're twisting our emotions," he says. He stares out to where the drifts of dirt lag and slow and cease tearing into the spirits with anything near deadly power, and he reaches up to run his hands through his hair. "Okay. We're okay, the ghosts can't hurt us. But... just, damn. I can't start that up again."
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Sophie ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Does Sophie look like she's been dealing with ghosts?! There's a yelp when she's shoved back, stumbling on her feet for a second before she regains her balance, eyes a little wide. "No," she snaps back, definitely hurt emotionally if not physically, reaching for her revolver again and holding onto it like that's her last speck of hope remaining. "I've seen ghosts before." Seen.
"Fine -- do- just do your thing again," she tells Colton, stepping back and adjusting the barrel of her revolver before she lifts it up again, a stubborn set to her mouth. Her finger squeezes the trigger.
BANG!
And again, spread out into the smoke.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Sophie with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
"I can't," Colton mutters, closing his eyes. "I could throw a pebble around right now, maybe." It's his other talents he leans on, instead, twisting those emotional blades around to dig them back into the ghosts, for whatever the demonic things might actually care. His features twist and tighten with every gunshot, and the hair stands up on the back of his neck and the backs of his arms as she fires out its sixth bullet. "Reload," he mutters, then lets out a strangled sound as Sophie's set upon by the hellhound and its excoriating fangs.
Look, Sophie doesn't kick dogs. She likes dogs, they're good boys, but this one -- this one is definitely not a good boy. Not in the least. Her hand had been half on its way already to reloading, the cylinder released and swung out to let the bullets be loaded in, and her shrill yelp pierces through the air when the hellhound snaps right for her, instincts kicking in full-force. "Oh, f-" the word's cut off in favor of just reloading as fast as humanely possible, and there's another scream filling the air of the cemetery as the hound sinks its phantom teeth through her leg, her suffering felt most astutely.
BANG.
Right through the smoke-hound.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.
The situation escalates as the ghosts manipulate Sophie and Colton's emotions, drawing out their worst fears and desires. Sophie, caught in a moment of vulnerability, instinctively seeks comfort in Colton, a move that momentarily disrupts his concentration. Colton, recognizing the ghosts' manipulative tactics, rebuffs her advances in an attempt to maintain focus. Despite the setback, Sophie bravely continues to fire her revolver at the encroaching spirits. The climax of their harrowing ordeal comes when a ghostly hellhound attacks Sophie, its phantom bite imbuing her with visions of torment. Through perseverance, Sophie manages to land a shot directly through the smoke-formed beast. In the end, their combined efforts culminate in the dissipation of the malignant presence, the cemetery once again enveloped in calm as the spirits are banished, leaving Sophie and Colton to recover from their ordeal amidst the now-peaceful gravestones.
(Sophie's ghost banishing)
[Sat Feb 8 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 7F(-13C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
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.
"What psychic powers?!" Sophie, decidedly the most unpsychic anyone has ever been, demands of Colton, though her mouth snaps shut immediately as she spies the smoke beginning to coil its way across the dark soil, a shiver wracking its way down her spine. Not slowly, and definitely not subtly, she slinks closer to Colton. "Throw dirt at it," she tells him, like it's her own idea.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sophie 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.
Blowing out a slow breath, Colton reaches his arms outwards and curls his fingers into fists. The top inch or so of the soil lifts slowly into the air, catching and reflecting some of that infernal red glow from the spirits' appearance. He begins to turn in place very slowly to begin with, and after a lull, the floating earth deigns to follow suit, drifting in lazy circles around him. "Give me a minute," he snaps, frowning. "I need momentum. You're going to have to hold them off for a mome-" His breath hitches in his throat as he glances quickly over Sophie's way, scanning her for injuries. "God, just try the fucking bullets," he mutters. "And we'll see how fine my control can stay."
"Me?" Sophie's voice is definitely not squeaky at all, no, at the prospect of holding the smoke off. She fumbles for her revolver, another little shiver making its way down her spine, cold and fear mixed in one unpleasant trickle of emotion that feels like ice. She lifts her revolver, hand trembling just a tiny bit, "Y-yeah, fine, I'll--"
CRACK!.
Maybe that bullet might've done something if it didn't decide to embed itself in a gravestone instead. "Shit."
A hot wind blows through the cemetery, and with it comes sibilant whispers in the ears of Sophie and all their companions: they promise depraved, decadent desires fulfilled, and for a moment that's all anyone can focus on.
Colton doesn't flinch from the report, exactly, but there's a flash of angry chaos in the stream of grave soil flying around nonetheless. If the silhouettes of faces twisted in ecstatic pleasure, bodies bent and contoured up to where they meet each other, well - that's not his work, it's the ghost's. It's rather incriminating, though, the way that woman appears to be getting stretched out by that half-formed man, a lonely first tangled up in the loose earth.
Colton spins faster and faster, forcing his attention away from the lurid imagery appearing within the clouds, and soon enough the apparitions smooth away as the soil picks up speed, lifting into a whirlwind that riddles tiny holes through the animus of the demonic spirits - tiny grain-sized holes that knit closed shortly afterwards, but there is damage being done.
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Sophie ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Sophie is not having a good time. There's another shudder down her spine, and her attempts at shooting off another bullet find the whispers in her ears first; her hand stills, specks of Colton's grave-dirt finding itself splattered on the white of her coat and her skirt, and there's a flush rising to her cheeks, dark and demanding. She slips closer to Colton now, wading her way through his spinning until she's caught his arm to still him. "Hey," comes the soft, soft word, demanding his attention, and then she's leaning up, lips yearning to meet his, unmistakably.
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sophie 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.
Amidst his spinning faster and faster and faster, Colton has to come to a furious, skidding stop in order to not accidentally smack Sophie right across the face with his outstretched fists. "Sophie!" he barks, wobbling in place and shoving her back down by the shoulder. "Is this your first fucking time dealing with ghosts?" He bares his teeth at her, features drawn into a harsh, wrathful expression - and then he just pushes her back creating a little room. "They're twisting our emotions," he says. He stares out to where the drifts of dirt lag and slow and cease tearing into the spirits with anything near deadly power, and he reaches up to run his hands through his hair. "Okay. We're okay, the ghosts can't hurt us. But... just, damn. I can't start that up again."
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Sophie ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Does Sophie look like she's been dealing with ghosts?! There's a yelp when she's shoved back, stumbling on her feet for a second before she regains her balance, eyes a little wide. "No," she snaps back, definitely hurt emotionally if not physically, reaching for her revolver again and holding onto it like that's her last speck of hope remaining. "I've seen ghosts before." Seen.
"Fine -- do- just do your thing again," she tells Colton, stepping back and adjusting the barrel of her revolver before she lifts it up again, a stubborn set to her mouth. Her finger squeezes the trigger.
BANG!
And again, spread out into the smoke.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
A twisted figure forms out of infernal smoke, shaped like a terrible canine shape. It's a hellhound, leaping towards Sophie with an awful snarl. When its mouth closes on %n, it has some phantom force, sending a vision of suffering in hellfire.
"I can't," Colton mutters, closing his eyes. "I could throw a pebble around right now, maybe." It's his other talents he leans on, instead, twisting those emotional blades around to dig them back into the ghosts, for whatever the demonic things might actually care. His features twist and tighten with every gunshot, and the hair stands up on the back of his neck and the backs of his arms as she fires out its sixth bullet. "Reload," he mutters, then lets out a strangled sound as Sophie's set upon by the hellhound and its excoriating fangs.
Look, Sophie doesn't kick dogs. She likes dogs, they're good boys, but this one -- this one is definitely not a good boy. Not in the least. Her hand had been half on its way already to reloading, the cylinder released and swung out to let the bullets be loaded in, and her shrill yelp pierces through the air when the hellhound snaps right for her, instincts kicking in full-force. "Oh, f-" the word's cut off in favor of just reloading as fast as humanely possible, and there's another scream filling the air of the cemetery as the hound sinks its phantom teeth through her leg, her suffering felt most astutely.
BANG.
Right through the smoke-hound.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.