Patrollogs
Tabithas Ghost Banishing 240311
Tabitha Matheson confronted three malevolent spirits in the gloomy atmosphere of Arkwright Cemetery, each ghost donned in a bizarre blend of ballroom and pirate attire, armed and dangerous. As Jack, a former priest, greeted her, a spectral pirate fired a shot into Tabitha's shoulder, marking the beginning of their eerie confrontation. Despite the lack of a visible wound, the encounter physically affected Tabitha, pushing her into action. She attempted to create a protective circle with salt, a traditional ward against spirits, even as the spectral entities closed in on her. Jack, observing the dire circumstances, began crafting a ritual circle in the soil, trying to bolster their defenses against the ghostly assault. Meanwhile, one of the spirits managed to rifle through Tabitha's pockets, finding little of value.
As the situation escalated, Tabitha, undeterred by the phantom bullet, combined her blood with salt in an attempt to fortify her defenses, employing every trick in her book to ward off the spirits. Jack escalated his attempts to repel the ghosts by brandishing his cross and chanting in Latin, evoking the power of older, harsher prayers. The spirits, however, seemed relentless, focusing their attack on Tabitha. In a desperate move, Tabitha crafted an earthen golem hoping to distract the spirits. Viktorin, another ally, appeared on the scene, initially at a loss on how to assist. Despite his and Jack’s efforts to ward off the spirits through physical and magical means, the entities' resolve remained unshaken. In a pivot of strategy, Tabitha proposed an offering, placing a small piece of her gold jewelry among the ritual symbols as tribute to the spirits, hoping to appease them and thus conclude their torment.
(Tabitha's ghost banishing)
[Sun Mar 10 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"Miss Matheson," Jack greets Tabitha.
Tabitha's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
There is an eerie piano playing throughout the graveyard when Jack approaches Tabitha. The wind carries the melancholy sound. He comes just in time to see three spirits rise, old, decayed, dressed in what seems to be ballroom attire. Fitting, really, considering the redhead's choice of attire today. She is just missing the masquerade mask and antler crown. Each are adorned with weaponry. Flintlock pistols, a cutlass and a pair of knives.
Tabitha takes one, not to the knee, but to her shoulder. She stumbles back in the process of pouring salt around the affected area, causing her to jolt backward and fling salt everywhere. Luckily even over her shoulder. Some semblance of good luck.
A moment, and then Jack takes a scope of the area around the cemetery. He steps forward, and at a little distance from Tabitha he begins to scribe a slow, ritual circle. It's some distance around her and the grave, bending down to push his bare hands into the earth to dig a black furrow. When his hands come up, they are dark with soil, his eyes flicked towards the redhead in silent concern.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Tabitha, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Tabitha cannot be deterred by the flintlock bullet, phantom as it is. She steels herself and begins anew with the circle. "Stay within the circle..." Though, of late, the protective measures do seem to be falling short. A little ritual knife is taken out of her bag and she slices the blade through her palm. With gritted teeth, the redhead packs the salt into the wound, causing it to turn that dark crimson she's all too familiar with. This distraction, along with the need to try to duck and weave a wicked cutlass, allows the ghostly thief to find anything on her. Having been a coat that she doesn't wear often, all the entity would find is lint.
Jack is not within the circle. Perhaps he should be, but the ghosts seem intent on Tabitha -- which, in turn, provokes some consternation on the part of the former priest. He straightens, and then his cross is being dug out, presented, and he begins to chant, low, in Latin. This is an old prayer, before all of the reforms to soften the Church -- it is brimstone and castigation, presented towards the flintlock-wielding woman ghost.
Tabitha spares a look at Jack, shivering from the accosting entities that sweep in and about her, as if Jack were not there at all. The woman, pained and chilled, kneels, and begins to use the bloodied salt to draw into the grass. A runic symbol that burns the greenery as it lands. The grass turns brown, dead. Maybe she has used the wrong spell? If not protection from them, then ... what?
The three spirits surround Tabitha, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Now Jack's chanting increases -- he crosses inside the circle, and he is trying bodily to attack the spirits. His silver ritual is out, and he is slashing as he chants in latin, hoping the consecrated blade with its cruciform hilt will hurt the ghosts. With his other hand he is summoning some magic -- necromancy, low incantation to try to drive them away.
Viktorin cautiously eases forward, peering around. He gives a brief nod towards Tabitha and Jack, murmuring, "I'm here... uh. How did you want me to help, Tabs?"
Surrounded by the three, Tabitha begins to look a little like a trappped puppy, caught there in a kneeling position with her hand, bloodied, to the ground. She starts to chant, closing her eyes to focus on what it is she is saying, rather than what the spirits are doing. Their presence, however, felt, in the freeze of her bones. Her palm curls, changing to a fist, and within it, she picks up the deadening grass and the salted earth. She begins to work it like clay, forming something akin to one of the three entities shapes. Fight fire with fire? This. This is what Viktorin has come in on.
When Viktorin approaches, Tabitha is being attacked by three spirits as Jack uses some combination of silver ritual knife and chanted spell to try to get them off the begowned-redhead. The help she needs may be obvious -- or it may be impossible.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Tabitha, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
With an earthen golem now in hand, Tabitha attempts to turn and twist it, seeking to shift the entity's attention away from her so she can focus further on the spell that is stifled on her lips as she is distracted once more by a phantom knife being plunged into her back. There is no wound to be seen, but by her stumble, and her scream, the pain is real. "Shoot at it!" Not that bullets will harm it, but perhaps, if Supernatural has it right, it could at least dispell it long enough for her to complete the ritual before it reweaves its form together.
Viktorin blinks, freezing up as the situation unfolds, puzzled, confused, seemingly unsure of how to approach. Suddenly, though, as he spots a spirit assailing Tabitha. Weaponless, he darts forward, attempting to slug the knife wielding spirit with his fists.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"Shooting is not in my repertoire," Jack tells Tabitha, his voice low. His knife is now just some ritual tool -- he steps back, on his back foot, and he is moving both hands in some complicated hand-tut, focusing his eyes on the ghosts. He slips into a chant that is as much ancient Egyptian as it is Latin, summoning the pages of the Book of the Dead.
"It is not mine either," Tabitha calls to Jack, having already been forced to the ground by the knife know at her back, the speed in which the knife had been driven slowed at least some by her attempts with a golem of sorts, now flattened beneath her. "But we have to do something..." Viktorin seeks to punch at the entity, but as entities go... does he make any contact? Likely all that he feels is vapor.
When Tabitha is driven to the ground, Jack moves to her -- there's clear concern in the former priest's eyes. He's still casting with one hand, the hand holding his dagger up with the hilt like a cross, but he's reaching for her with the other in an effort to get her up. "We are with you, Tabitha," he tells her in a low, urgent voice -- using her name, with some familiar Viktorin might not ordinarily hear.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Tabitha, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Tabitha pushes herself up to kneel on the cold, dead earth, with the assistance of Jack. The salt cicle long destroyed by the scuffling of entities, in their ballroom dance to the eerie music on the wind. Her hands, both, are solid to the ground, fingertips curling. "Return whence you came, spirits. There is nothing left here for you. You should be free..."
Tabitha grasps onto Jack's hand again, seeking also Viktorin's, as she once more is assaulted by a weapon that sears her, invisibly.
"Back, spirit!" Jack cries at the knife wielder. He squeezes Tabitha's hand, but then the ankh is thrust forward, now, as syllables of some long-dead tongue fall from his mouth. It is some effort -- trying to call upon the mastery of the dead they had in the land of Kemet, to pull some of that magic forward into this modern time to banish these awful things.
Viktorin growls as his fists move through vapor. After all, his hands aren't exactly made for slugging it out with the entities like this. Concern for Tabitha causes the demigod to note Jack's actions. And thus, he's spurred onward to follow his lead. He slips his hand into the redhead's hand, murmuring, "Alright, tell me what to do. I dunno anything about this stuff."
"This is not working... we give it tribute. An offering. Gold?" Tabitha asks, as she is wearing some. She releases Viktorin's and Jack's hand to remove the little golden stud from her nose, and within the symbol she had drawn, she places it. "It is not much, but it is yours..."
As the situation escalated, Tabitha, undeterred by the phantom bullet, combined her blood with salt in an attempt to fortify her defenses, employing every trick in her book to ward off the spirits. Jack escalated his attempts to repel the ghosts by brandishing his cross and chanting in Latin, evoking the power of older, harsher prayers. The spirits, however, seemed relentless, focusing their attack on Tabitha. In a desperate move, Tabitha crafted an earthen golem hoping to distract the spirits. Viktorin, another ally, appeared on the scene, initially at a loss on how to assist. Despite his and Jack’s efforts to ward off the spirits through physical and magical means, the entities' resolve remained unshaken. In a pivot of strategy, Tabitha proposed an offering, placing a small piece of her gold jewelry among the ritual symbols as tribute to the spirits, hoping to appease them and thus conclude their torment.
(Tabitha's ghost banishing)
[Sun Mar 10 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"Miss Matheson," Jack greets Tabitha.
Tabitha's shoulder suddenly burns as the flicklock wielder materializes long enough to fire a shot into her, there's no visible wound.
There is an eerie piano playing throughout the graveyard when Jack approaches Tabitha. The wind carries the melancholy sound. He comes just in time to see three spirits rise, old, decayed, dressed in what seems to be ballroom attire. Fitting, really, considering the redhead's choice of attire today. She is just missing the masquerade mask and antler crown. Each are adorned with weaponry. Flintlock pistols, a cutlass and a pair of knives.
Tabitha takes one, not to the knee, but to her shoulder. She stumbles back in the process of pouring salt around the affected area, causing her to jolt backward and fling salt everywhere. Luckily even over her shoulder. Some semblance of good luck.
A moment, and then Jack takes a scope of the area around the cemetery. He steps forward, and at a little distance from Tabitha he begins to scribe a slow, ritual circle. It's some distance around her and the grave, bending down to push his bare hands into the earth to dig a black furrow. When his hands come up, they are dark with soil, his eyes flicked towards the redhead in silent concern.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Tabitha, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
Tabitha cannot be deterred by the flintlock bullet, phantom as it is. She steels herself and begins anew with the circle. "Stay within the circle..." Though, of late, the protective measures do seem to be falling short. A little ritual knife is taken out of her bag and she slices the blade through her palm. With gritted teeth, the redhead packs the salt into the wound, causing it to turn that dark crimson she's all too familiar with. This distraction, along with the need to try to duck and weave a wicked cutlass, allows the ghostly thief to find anything on her. Having been a coat that she doesn't wear often, all the entity would find is lint.
Jack is not within the circle. Perhaps he should be, but the ghosts seem intent on Tabitha -- which, in turn, provokes some consternation on the part of the former priest. He straightens, and then his cross is being dug out, presented, and he begins to chant, low, in Latin. This is an old prayer, before all of the reforms to soften the Church -- it is brimstone and castigation, presented towards the flintlock-wielding woman ghost.
Tabitha spares a look at Jack, shivering from the accosting entities that sweep in and about her, as if Jack were not there at all. The woman, pained and chilled, kneels, and begins to use the bloodied salt to draw into the grass. A runic symbol that burns the greenery as it lands. The grass turns brown, dead. Maybe she has used the wrong spell? If not protection from them, then ... what?
The three spirits surround Tabitha, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Now Jack's chanting increases -- he crosses inside the circle, and he is trying bodily to attack the spirits. His silver ritual is out, and he is slashing as he chants in latin, hoping the consecrated blade with its cruciform hilt will hurt the ghosts. With his other hand he is summoning some magic -- necromancy, low incantation to try to drive them away.
Viktorin cautiously eases forward, peering around. He gives a brief nod towards Tabitha and Jack, murmuring, "I'm here... uh. How did you want me to help, Tabs?"
Surrounded by the three, Tabitha begins to look a little like a trappped puppy, caught there in a kneeling position with her hand, bloodied, to the ground. She starts to chant, closing her eyes to focus on what it is she is saying, rather than what the spirits are doing. Their presence, however, felt, in the freeze of her bones. Her palm curls, changing to a fist, and within it, she picks up the deadening grass and the salted earth. She begins to work it like clay, forming something akin to one of the three entities shapes. Fight fire with fire? This. This is what Viktorin has come in on.
When Viktorin approaches, Tabitha is being attacked by three spirits as Jack uses some combination of silver ritual knife and chanted spell to try to get them off the begowned-redhead. The help she needs may be obvious -- or it may be impossible.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Tabitha, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
With an earthen golem now in hand, Tabitha attempts to turn and twist it, seeking to shift the entity's attention away from her so she can focus further on the spell that is stifled on her lips as she is distracted once more by a phantom knife being plunged into her back. There is no wound to be seen, but by her stumble, and her scream, the pain is real. "Shoot at it!" Not that bullets will harm it, but perhaps, if Supernatural has it right, it could at least dispell it long enough for her to complete the ritual before it reweaves its form together.
Viktorin blinks, freezing up as the situation unfolds, puzzled, confused, seemingly unsure of how to approach. Suddenly, though, as he spots a spirit assailing Tabitha. Weaponless, he darts forward, attempting to slug the knife wielding spirit with his fists.
The flintlock wielder unleashes a stream of spectral bullets, somehow not needing to reload as the group is forces to drop to the ground to avoid getting struck.
"Shooting is not in my repertoire," Jack tells Tabitha, his voice low. His knife is now just some ritual tool -- he steps back, on his back foot, and he is moving both hands in some complicated hand-tut, focusing his eyes on the ghosts. He slips into a chant that is as much ancient Egyptian as it is Latin, summoning the pages of the Book of the Dead.
"It is not mine either," Tabitha calls to Jack, having already been forced to the ground by the knife know at her back, the speed in which the knife had been driven slowed at least some by her attempts with a golem of sorts, now flattened beneath her. "But we have to do something..." Viktorin seeks to punch at the entity, but as entities go... does he make any contact? Likely all that he feels is vapor.
When Tabitha is driven to the ground, Jack moves to her -- there's clear concern in the former priest's eyes. He's still casting with one hand, the hand holding his dagger up with the hilt like a cross, but he's reaching for her with the other in an effort to get her up. "We are with you, Tabitha," he tells her in a low, urgent voice -- using her name, with some familiar Viktorin might not ordinarily hear.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Tabitha, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
Tabitha pushes herself up to kneel on the cold, dead earth, with the assistance of Jack. The salt cicle long destroyed by the scuffling of entities, in their ballroom dance to the eerie music on the wind. Her hands, both, are solid to the ground, fingertips curling. "Return whence you came, spirits. There is nothing left here for you. You should be free..."
Tabitha grasps onto Jack's hand again, seeking also Viktorin's, as she once more is assaulted by a weapon that sears her, invisibly.
"Back, spirit!" Jack cries at the knife wielder. He squeezes Tabitha's hand, but then the ankh is thrust forward, now, as syllables of some long-dead tongue fall from his mouth. It is some effort -- trying to call upon the mastery of the dead they had in the land of Kemet, to pull some of that magic forward into this modern time to banish these awful things.
Viktorin growls as his fists move through vapor. After all, his hands aren't exactly made for slugging it out with the entities like this. Concern for Tabitha causes the demigod to note Jack's actions. And thus, he's spurred onward to follow his lead. He slips his hand into the redhead's hand, murmuring, "Alright, tell me what to do. I dunno anything about this stuff."
"This is not working... we give it tribute. An offering. Gold?" Tabitha asks, as she is wearing some. She releases Viktorin's and Jack's hand to remove the little golden stud from her nose, and within the symbol she had drawn, she places it. "It is not much, but it is yours..."