By Crucifix and Kuji-Kiri

[ItsFulgrim]

Character submission:

Open - By Crucifix and Kuji-Kiri [Modern/Supernatural/Mystery] (Group!)

Main Thread https://www.storytellerscircle.com/threads/by-crucifix-and-kuji-kiri.10907/ General Instructions and Information This is about ghosts, ghouls, spirits, yokai, anything you can imagine to be related with the supernatural. You will play as an exorcist, or spiritist. The general...

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The Then, The Now, The New Normal

​

A letter. an email, it didn't matter what method of communication you used, or if you used any at all, someone found you, and you received the message.
It was a sad tale, of a poor, innocent woman that had fallen at the hands of an evil spirit, driving her insane, turning her into a wild beast that ripped apart any who dared to approach her, clearly, a powerful being. Her father, an extremely wealthy man who owned a large and succesful pharmaceudical company, had made sure to let everyone and anyone know that he needed their help.

His poor, innocent daughter, his little flower, taken by a wretched demon, oh how awful.
It seemed sketchy, fake, but of course, there was a catch. The one that managed to purge the demon, would receive a reward, any amount of money that they desired, any sports car, any mansion.
That could make it all seem that much more like a fraud, who would even go ahead and make up a lie this ridiculous?

Your doubts, would likely be dropped down the gutter as you looked closer, and realized the envelope contained a plane ticket for a first class flight straight to Boston as well as fifteen thousand dollars just to begin your journey to be a hero and save his beloved daughter.

How did he even know where to find you? Questions that were irrelevant because, of course, FIFTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.


Right off the back was, pretty ridiculous, and yet he stilled offered more to anyone who was succesful for this request. A life changer indeed, this could save anyone who was in debt, live a comfortable life, not worry ever again,

You would take the offer, maybe because of the money, maybe because you wanted a challenge, to be famous, or simply, you had a pure heart who went out to those in need, regardless, you were here, walking into this, odd room with, hundreds of others who claimmed to be spiritists.

Some came into the large room, some others left, failing and being humilliated for beings frauds or, not good enough. Some unlucky ones even got carried out, attacked, unconcious, or maybe even worse. At least you knew the part about the spirit was true.

The room itself, looked like a large warehouse, of course, not like any you'd likely seen before, it was pristine and housed expensive equipment, it had been an emergency, that was truly the only reason why, for whatever reason, there were four large transparent walls in the middle, a barrier, some sort of strong polymer with a shimmer that indicated a blessing had been placed onto it

Inside of the four walls, was the woman, in tattered clothing, chained. Looking hopeless, maybe even sad. but there was a glint to her eyes, as if pretending innocence, the experienced exorcist wouldn't feel moved by the sight, it was obvious, she was possesed, by something confident, strong, something that could pull those chains as mere string, but it still sat, as if waiting.

Anyone who came into the large four walls was either met with an unseen attack from the spirit, or was ignored, as if the attacker was picking out what it liked and what it didn't.


Lucky you, you probably had a better chance than these people throwing table salt around or performing some sort of made up ritual with props from a Halloween store.


Soon enough, someone official spoke outloud, into a microphone... Everything looked, very prepared.


"Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming, please. May I have your attention?"

The Giant
Gone Clubbing


​

Marco kept his eyes open, and his bag close, almost afraid that all the suspicious folk was after his valuables.

It was, uncomfortable- But he kept a tough face, begging to find anyone who didn't look as if they'd try to sell him some weird alternative medicine or drug that would make him throw up for the next week.


His broad shoulders often bumped into whoever stood beside him, though nobody really dared to complain, too afraid that they would be splattered against the ground by that mountain of a man.

Every so often, he tightened the bandages that covered his hands, to the bystander it could seem like some sort of threat display, in reality, he was nervous, fidgetting. He knew his own strength, and so far, in the last three years, he had not encountered anything or anyone strong enough to remain standing after a single blow from his Macuahuitl, but that didn't mean he was all that confident.

Maybe whatever they were facing was too much for any of them, maybe it was all a trick and he made a fool of himself by showing up here. Whatever it was, he took in a deep breath in search of confidence, and moved closer to the center, trying his best to hear the man over the crowd.

 

[Azra]

The Night Before

"Taylor..."

"Just Taylor please." A young woman spoke from her pulled over muscle car. The officer seemed puzzled by the request but continued after a moment of dwelling on the matter.

"Would you mind exiting the car miss? Not only were you speeding but you were reported at a scene earlier." The woman does so, she wasn't particularly short or particularly tall. As far as features went while perhaps attractive and fit it wasn't like she cut the portrait of a super model or anything. She seemed ordinary, her dyed bangs a hint at rebellion an effort to stand out. She leaves the car and turns the jacket tied about her waist to concealing her shoulders. She makes no effort to resist the requests of the officer.

A gesture is made to a duffel bag in the passenger seat. She knows the question he was going to ask so gives a general direction. A bag is set on the hood, zipper pulled back. Plucked from inside is something of wood. For a moment it captures the light, as if the moon above somehow was reflected onto its surface. The wood seemed polished in a measure beyond what seemed fathomable, it seemed bordering onradiant. As the hands of the officer coiled around the weapon and tested the strings his body seemed to grow less tense. A slight change in skin hue warmed from the weapon some how. It was almost as if he was soothed by having it in his grip.

His exploration leads for an arrow next. The silver tip of course shined like a star but it's radiance was ruined by something, he sees it, flakes of red about the tip. He begins to inquire, Bo dropped as a hand goes to his hip.

"Gods forgive me for secrets shown the light." Her hands moved, not up though but rather together. Clasped in the gesture of prayer. A cross on her hand visible. Dangling in contrast to the symbol a bracelet slightly having heft given the charm. The charm itself sacred iconography of another people than the tattoo. An ankh to be precise. "Officer there are things you should know. Your pastor won't tell you. Your neighbor won't believe you. But the veil between life and death is thinning. Evil exists, the kind sadly a badge doesn't effect. We can look over my case if you need evidence over faith..."

Now
Hunter in Red

She smiled looking at her phone as the phone landed. She'd received a number of messages sense when she last could text. All from the same number, a number belonging to a officer. He was following leads now asking around on forums and in person to find answers for himself. He had never been a believer of higher powers. As time trickled by though he had seen things that were hard to quantify. He sold himself on other answers, until last night.

She responded in earnest. Looking to help the officer become a hunter. Silently praying he could steel himself in the now before the worst of outcomes. Her messages ended as she picked up her bag at the check out. "Evils hold is absolute. So judgment shall also be."
It took longer awaiting her car. It was easy to claim a bag than a vehicle though. In her waiting the woman sat a cup of coffee in one hand and a cross necklace held in the other. Whispers to herself to iron her resolve. She realized it may be obsession that clutched a t her more thsn she clutched at the iconography. She couldnt help it during flight hear the nightmares had come back at a point. A reminder of failure. She couldn't stumble ever again, she couldn't stumble when she finally saw him again.

Eventually the waiting ended and the drive began. Heavy metal blared over the speaker. Full transparency it was blasphemous and obscene. She enjoyed it however and knew the fun riffs and over the top lyrics weren't what dammned souls. For the horrors of the world was far more real and far more severe. The ride wasn't that long and knowing what the job would be she saw no reason to show reservations then in how she presented herself.

Combat boots was contrast some might say to the skirt. On her hip a trio of vials sat in a belt. The glass ordinary, little caps with silver crosses kept the liquid resting inside. Most her image drowned out in a jacket strikingly red and arguably maybe a little to big. She entered the room and while hardly the only one with a weapon may have stood out. These days most might favor a gun. Some liked the crusader sword, or a ritual a l dagger. She saw a few people even with crossbows, something more on brand. She though on her back carried a bow and arrow. She paid her surroundings little mind as she sought to squeeze through the crowd.

Hands in prayer the archer moved to the glass walls, she wasnt going to enter yet, her attention was paid to the voice over the itercom. Curiosity though had her at least aproach and place a hand on the glass. Seeking to gage reaction. "Damned are we." Z man with a huge club briefly also got her attention. Well club might be a disservice she could see the points, she recognized it was more thsn that. Truthfully she almost sensed more to it. Her dad was the archeologist though not her, the young woman's historical expertise was limited and quite finite.

 

[illirica]

It was an auspicious day when one received fifteen thousand dollars in the mail. Lex had stared at it, somewhat shocked, for a few seconds. After that initial reaction, she had taken the information from the also-included plane ticket, first class, then put everything carefully back, sealed it up, and returned it to the sender via certified mail.

She'd written enough contracts that went along the lines of by using this product, the user agrees to... to recognize when she should be very careful about reading the fine print.

Since this one hadn't come with a contract, she could certainly argue that she hadn't agreed to anything, but there were enough places where acceptance was close enough to agreement that she wasn't about to risk it just to argue a technicality.

That didn't mean that she wasn't interested. It wasn't that it was a potentially lucrative opportunity - well, no, that was certainly part of it, she just wasn't going to put that in the paperwork. Mostly, though, it was that she wanted to find out what was going on. Whatever was happening was probably pretty big, or at least mid-sized, and that meant it would have ripples throughout the next few years, and Lex had better be on top of knowing what happened.

That, and information went for a pretty good price, in certain circles, and Lex had a few contracts she wouldn't have minded updating with some tighter verbiage, if she could trade a paragraph or two for a story.

Getting there was more difficult than it needed to be, mostly because Lex wanted to avoid air travel given the plane ticket situation. That meant hopping into the car that had seen her through college, law school, and her early career, and hoping it didn't decide to give up halfway through Ohio. Not that she would have blamed it, really - Ohio was the right sort of place to give up in. Lex knew. She driven through it before.

It took a couple of days, but she'd made sure she had plenty of time before the plane ticket would have arrived, enough that she could get a room for the night before and arrive to this conference looking fresh and professional - no-nonsense tailored pantsuit in gray, neatly organized briefcase in black, and silver shoes because there really was no place like home. Hopefully she didn't have to use the damn things. The contract on them was one of the ones she wanted to touch up, because they always left her slightly nauseous for the next week, and she'd have to come back to get her car.

At least she'd done her research and stuck to the original silver and not let the airy bitch stick her with ruby. Any time the fae or fae-adjacent offered footwear in the red chromatics, the answer was no, absolutely not, fuck off you murderous asshat. But, of course, with exquisite politeness. Lex was a lawyer. She excelled at saying things like that with exquisite politeness.

The crowd already gathered in the large room was eclectic, at the very least. Many different methods of attire or nationality were represented. Some were showing off their skills with magic tricks or in the weapons they had brought along, while others were more quiet about what their abilities might be. There didn't seem to be anywhere to sit, just standing space. Lex stayed close to the wall, moving closer to the center of the room as the crowd allowed it, but without pushing ahead. It was easy to slip through the cracks sometimes, especially when one seemed nondescript and forgettable. It didn't take her too long to reach the center of the room, and the transparent barrier.

There was another young woman beside her - a very young woman, Lex noted, refraining from the moniker girl because she had quite enough experience with people calling her that and assuming she was a secretary that she wasn't going to do it to anyone else. Still, underneath the red cloak, she was... maybe just out of high school. That, or she was thousands of years old and had traded the souls of a hundred innocent babies for eternal youth. Lex had seen a contract that had done that, once.

The woman on the inside looked... oh, Lex knew that look. It was the one that said Who, me? Your Honor, I am just an innocent waif, I could not possibly have committed this heinous crime! Lex felt a strong sense of familiarity, and gave the woman inside a little nod of almost-thanks, just because it was amusing to her.

The glass veil caused her to pause for a moment, contemplating, taking the time to see if there was any sort of by passing through this barrier, you agree to... contract on it, but there didn't seem to be. Nonetheless, she took a post-it note from her pocket, scrawled a quick the user has the expectation of being able to pass through this barrier at will in all directions without interference; revocation of this permission constitutes a violation of standard hosting procedures re: Hesiod, Homer, Ovid, et c. and stuck it to the glass wall where it lingered, pinkly. The ancient Greeks had had opinions about xenia, and no one did pissing contests like Greek gods. Sometimes, all one needed to do was offer a little reminder of that particular contingency.

The speaker for the event seemed to be getting started, asking for their attention. How much of it, and for how long? immediately came to Lex's mind, but it was enough to decline to offer her full attention for now. He'd probably say some interesting things, but he would also say a lot of meaningless things, and Lex wanted to get ahead of the game before she had to sit there and sort them out. She turned her head slightly towards the red-cloaked girl, who she had a feeling might be thinking along the same lines.

"Coming?"

It was a question, or perhaps it was an offer, or maybe it could have been the start of a contract, if Lex was feeling particularly spicy, which she wasn't just yet - at least, not with respect to the other woman, who probably didn't deserve it. Maybe the girl would come with her, maybe not, but Lex stepped forward anyway, pushing her way through the shimmer to give the bound woman a smile that was just as predatory as the chained woman's innocence.

"Hm." A moment's contemplation, but she might as well go with a direct address and see where it got her. "Who's really running this shindig?"

 

[ItsFulgrim]

​

"Again- Thank you for coming. I am, as you know, the owner of this company, I am who called you all to get rid of this-Thing. Some of you came earlier than others, you all made a- Good effort, but no one has freed her from this. Please, I beg of you, if any you know you are not able todo this, just, leave, I do not wish to see her suffering any longer... Anyone, just, any person prepared enough, do something."

The man looked ill, tired, and. more nervous than sad, even as he cried on and on about his problem.

-

The room went, just a bit more quiet than it was, not enough for it to be easy to hear however, which caused the larger man to approach the box further, seeing the woman with her... Sticky notes?

"That's an odd choice..." He muttered to himself, intrigued rather than taking a judgemental stance. He wanted to look further but, was instead taking his attention back to the man crying into the microphone, only to feel too moved by the strong emotions and looking back at the woman in chains. What was he supposed to do now? Maybe he should just, wait and see what the woman with her papers would do, fifteen thousand dollars weren't all that bad, specially back in his home country- Though he was a tiny bit dissapointed at his own lack of determination, why shouldn't he just get in the way of whatever she was doing and get rid of the spirit himself?


He began walking, heavy footsteps, and his weapon resting upon his shoulder.

Yes, he would do that, he would get that money, he would achieve his goal, he would not back down and-!

He stopped, quite close but not enough to be noticed if the woman hadn't been in alert. He stood there for a bit.


Marco was not cut out to be a bad person, or even an agressive one, he would never dare to actually push someone out the way or harm another just for money, this was not him, and he was, ashamed, remorseful, maybe the pressure of the moment, maybe that.. Weird mist covering the ground, he didn't know what it was, but that would've not been his first reaction.


The man had next to no experience when it came to talking to others, and that only made him spiral down into his insecurities. Would she think he was being rude? Would she look at him with anger or disgust? Would she say he was pathetic? All the worries made so much more obvious by his skin turning red in shame. At least the woman had walked into the walls, and hopefully didn't see his little outburst. He held his weapon tightly, hoping that in reality no one else was harmed, but that would be too much to wish for, given they were all putting themselves at risk in this situation.


He decided to wait, watching with interest what the stranger's next move would be, too afraid to ask out loud, but prepared to fight if things went South and the damn spirit decided to stop playing around.


-

The possesed woman spoke, tilting her head a bit at how direct the woman in front of her had been. Her facade didn't work with whoever this exorcist who'd come in to interrogate her was, and that was okay, so just smiled.


"You seem aware of what you are doing. But I cannot tell. I have a pact to uphold. All I can say is-" She giggled. "Not me. But I like you, you will get a tiny, little hint- This woman is already dead. I, am just a tool for his plans, and you should join him too, if you know what is good for you."


And that was, all it said before simply, sitting back to her original position, like, some sort of doll, limp, empty.

 

[Azra]

A woman ventured toward the barrier as well one who also cut a striking image. In Taylor's case she figured the red jacket and bow. Just was a fact most people nowadays didn't ring bows and arrows around. Here though was something truly different. There were plenty people around but not many insults or lawyer like attire. Most wore shoes or more likely boots. This woman wore, silver shoes of all things. Was somewhat impressive to see pulled off Taylor thought. Granted it'd also never be her, to fancy for her tastes, if the looks weren't striking enough the next act was. The deployment of a sticky note.

Not some recipe or potion, not holly water or religious text the normal go to Taylor believed. Not a weapon either, an extreme measure sure but something Taylor believed in.

There was a ask if coming, and words soon in addition to it from the host.

Taylor took a moment to breathe deep. She dreaded the steps that might be required next. T a ylor didntnwant to kill someone and to her fighting even devils and ghosts counted. To try and remedy her errors before though it needed to be done. She reminded herself of her tenet. "You should know the solution may not be clean." The young woman remarked speaking to the host in particular but there was a implication of wanting to tell the room. Deep down she wanted more ready to actually stop the Evils that were bleeding into the world. While she still struggled to stomach her actions, she saw many others as cowardly. Temporary solutions and hopes. An exorcism and a force might come back a silver tipped arrow to the dome proved another story.

A brief look to the man with a club, a gesture to come along. The weapon choice gave her some hope. He stood out, she had to hope that would mean something. The archer didn't wait however choosing to enter alongside the lawyer. "Taylor" no last name given she wanted to introduce herself limits existed though. Unless it was cru ial she didn't wish to tell more about herself. Looking at the chained woman now thar they were more in view what the ranger noticed was death. Other side of the glass made things difficult now it was far more clear a r.

Such a sight triggered a hand to withdraw her bow. The other hand resting on an arrow the feathers tickling finger tips. She didn't want to draw an arrow yet, but compulsion was there. Seeing a dead host, briefly had her seeing someone else. Briefly Taylor considered pitching questions. Someone else though seemed far more knowledgeable in such a field. Best to leave it to them. Taylor struggled with being coy or God's forbid dishonest. Talking to a possessed could require a craftiness Tsylor knew she still needed to learn.

 

[illirica]

"Any chance of getting a copy of that pact in writing?" Lex would have loved to have a chance to look over the specifics and see what loopholes she could find. There were almost always at least a few, especially if no one expected the other side to have a lawyer.

Of course, Lex really wasn't sure what the other side actually was, and whether she was even on the other side, but the principle still held. The woman had fallen back, limp, lifeless.

She'd apparently been lifeless for a bit.

"You could just shoot her now," Lex stated, more to her young companion than the body before them. "Since she's already dead. Removes the illusion of a hostage situation." A shrug, indifferent. "Then again, it might be a good idea to have someone on the inside." As it were.

Lex decided to leave it for now, pushing her way back through the glass shimmer and removing her sticky note again. If the others here wanted to go have a chat with her, they could ensure their own safety. There was a man who'd gotten fairly close, large and towering over the two of them, armed with a club. Lex considered being concerned by him, but decided she was more concerned by the rising mist from the ground and the sobbing man in front of the microphone. She gave the performance a C+. Slightly better than average, but not steller. She'd certainly seen better.

Her eyes drifted around the room, estimating the number of people here and multiplying it, idly, by fifteen thousand, just to see how much cash had already been put up for this. Quite a lot, and if the man in front of them had ever been a CEO, it meant he expected to get a good return for it one way or another.

What was the rule of business?

"Better be on your guard," she advised, to the girl or the man or just anyone close enough to hear. "As they say, if you aren't the customer, you're the product."

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Marco rose an eyebrow at the lawyer's commnet. Be on your guard... Perhaps it wasn't directed at him, except it most defintely was, other than the girl in red, he seemed to be the only other person paying attention to her, the other exorcists looked- Distracted? No it wasn't that, they seemed empty, as if all the joy in the world had been taken out of them in a single breath, motionless, still very much alive but, he wasn't sure how much longer this would be the case, given their lack of strength.


The three of them were unaffected, perhaps because they were so brave and strong and the heroes of this story.

Or in fact, just chance, God had his favorites so it seemed, and they were just a few of them.

The man who stood before the microphone panicked as the mist rose further, clearly aware of whatever was happening, he attempted to run, dtying his bitter tears, of course, thinking he'd be free to escape now. But regardless of his speed, he was easily captured by the back of his shirt's collar, getting pulled back and lifted easily by the exorcist of latinamerican ancestry.


"Should wait to run, that made it very obvious that you're involved-"

Marco's accent wasn't perfect, nor was his english, it gave away his Guatemalan blood, but in a way it made him look less monstrous than if he was just a looming, silent beast, maybe even charming due to his soft, respectful tone of voice. It was soothing, as long as you closed your eyes and didn't see him in prime position to rip a man apart with his bare hands.


-

The man squirmed and struggled, breathless as he tried to claw at Marco's hand to no success.

"You do not GET IT. She made me, she said she would bring her back, I-I couldn't say no! Just- Just let me go before it awakens, please, please, PLEASE-"

-

The man's pathetic cries were silenced by the break of silence, footsteps, followed by a soft sound of a pan flute and ceremonial rattles, it was all very over the top, but one aware of how ancient rituals work, would know better than to underestimate these acts.

People in robes of all shades of blue and green, pushed the now motionless exorcists closer to the walls in the center, their masks carved beautifully in wood, rowan painted with stripes of vibrant colors, as if to mock the protection this wood offered from witchcraft, and bracelets and necklaces made from the crown of thorns plant, it was a painful sight, but they didn't seem bothered, by the way they danced and moved, it seemed as if they were almost enjoying it, rejoicing and repeating some, old name of unknown origin.

There weren't as many as the other exorcist, at most they were a dozen, but they were confident as they circled the three remaining exorcists while spitting odd sounds at them, cursing maybe, or just, nonsense as they kept moving in their euphoric ritual.


They were all joined by a thirteenth, dressed in long, black robes with white accents, his mask, just like the others, carved wood, with white paint on top marking odd symbols, but instead of an animal it was blank, almost human, but nothing else, no eyes, no mouth, no nose, just, the silhoutte of something vaguely similar to that of a person.

It was difficult to tell at first, but it was a woman, not particularly tall or short, and, given the choice of clothes and the mask, nothing to remark about her appearance, just the fact that she was not particularly young, based on her voice and the wayshe moved.

"Joy- JOY, please, do not fret, chant with us, go on. You three who remain with no effects, you are chosen, you shall join us, and take place among the thirteen, you will replace our eldest, and you will adore the ancient spirit with us, will you not? You have seen it, it has been told in tale and seen in the sky, the spirits are coming through, they will join us, devour the sun, and rise the veil to his glory-"

The words were slurred, and she didn't look the most sober, but she was awaiting for an answer, with a hand extended to them as if she had just given them good news they should thank her for.

 

[Azra]

She hadn't paid mind to the fog it escaped her initial view. She swore at herself internally for such a simplistic mistake. Her eyes didn't move quite yet from the possessed. Still inside the containment she weighed her options, the damning of her soul for the work. A choice was given and a possessed showed no resistance.

Answers could come from the victim but that took time. Fog growing and words being said made time seem a fleeting thing. Action over interaction was being called for. "Come back to the surface we do this again. I pray you find comfort in hell, that the soul is allowed to pass on. It's to late to pray for myself." It wasn't really any words plucked from sacred texts. The importance was in the conviction to the words. She believed there was an afterlife, one good and one not. The complexities who was in charge wasn't for her to know she just wished for souls to find a peace. That the victimizer went back to the abyss they came from. She had hopes that she was killing them permanently but didn't believe that to be a realistic outcome. Only way for either devil or victim to find answers she didn't have was for her to act.

Remove an arrow, quick steps to close distance. No hesitancy allowed she told herself as she neared the possessed. Thrust hard, make it precise. She was young but conviction made her actions surgical. The arrow would go under the ribs getting around the bones that usually play defense and run risk of making an arrow hard to reclaim. It would look to move through organs to find the heart where silver tip would pierce the heart. A vicious yank to open that most vital organ and free the arrow from the body. The pure silver to purify the body, destroy the heart which she believed home to soul and host. Her faith told her at the finite outcome of mortal coil, what existed beyond the material world could pass on.

She likely looked a monster. This was defilement of a corpse. Her movements were to vicious more killer then saint. From a hooded figure in prayer to something savage. Taylor knew this, she also knew reservations was how she failed before. So she'd thrust deep and pay no mind at the trail of ichor that would likely trail her actions. Perhaps of course divine or unholy intervention would stop her didn't mean she would have much time to dwell on the outcome.

By time she had slain a possessed or failed the situation had progressed outside the containment of said possessed. "Mistakes don't condemn a man." These were her thoughts on the man being held by the club enthusiast. The spokesman of this event on the run, she didn't think needed to die. She wasn't his captor though so the outcome wasn't for her to decide. She'd pay mind to the words of the woman. Be arrow soaked in blood or clean she would notch the arrow. Her bowstring taught as she'd exit the possessed confinment to be in the room proper. Her aim would be trained on the masked figure doing the talking.

"Ruination isn't glorious. I'd rather damn myself then untold billions." She didn't know these other two exorcist but she knew herself. She saw a world hurting but that could be saved. And the words of the cultist didn't sound altruistic by any measure. Talking she could endure, there was value in answers. Deep down though Taylor knew she would never surrender to people like those confronting them. They were surrounded it might be a fight they couldn't actually win. She didn't know them, she might be surrounded a fight she couldn't win. Evil though was what her eyes witnessed, so her posture spoke more fighter than diplomat.

 

[illirica]

Huh.

The kid had actually done it.

Lex wasn't sure if she was impressed or horrified, but whichever one she was going to be was going to have to wait a little bit, because things had gotten about as weird as she'd expected. Not weirder than expected, but that was more of a reflection on Lex's experiences than on this particular situation. The big man had moved up and tried to get their shepherd to stay put, presumably before he could go flock off to wherever he'd come from. As if on cue - or perhaps actually on cue, the cultists came in with the usual wake up, sheeple speeches meant to convince Lex and company to sign on the dotted line without reading the fine print. Join us, adore the spirit, devour the sun, standard really. Did they actually have a heliophagy clause set up, and if so, how restrictive was it going to be? Were there protections from ingestion written in, or was this one of those consume, and be consumed from within situations?

The girl had stepped up again and given a firm not interested, for which Lex couldn't really blame her, and the young man was still occupied with being vaguely threatening in the general direction of the speaker, who would presumably start freaking out any time now - hopefully the big guy's grip was strong. Lex turned instead to the assembly of robes, considering what the options were, and how much time was needed for all of this to come to pass.

"I'd like to see a copy of your agreement," she said, easily enough, "In writing."

It wasn't like she hadn't been part of a cult before, after all. It was just that if Lex was going to get involved with something, she wanted to know precisely what she was getting involved with. Also, the request ought to buy some time for the other two to do whatever it was they chose to do. Sometimes, it was all about keeping people occupied - and it was a well known fact that paperwork always took about twice as long as expected - three times, if done properly, and Lex absolutely intended to do it properly.

"Does this ancient spirit of yours have a Name?"

Not a name, something to be called by, but a Name, something to be Called upon. There were stories enough where having the Name of a thing made quite a bit of difference, and also a number of tales where those who had one didn't have any idea what it was they held. If these cultists had been acquired in a ritual much like this one, they could very well be... not innocent, exactly, but certainly naive. A trial could often be won or lost by a client not knowing when to keep their mouth shut, and this was absolutely a trial.

Lex offered only an affable smile, because who wouldn't want to pin down a sun-eater for a favor later on, if the terms and conditions weren't too disagreeable?

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Marco held the man's shirt tightly, not enough to strangle him with the fabric but, not enough for him to escape either, he was trapped, as much as he kicked and begged, the giant would simply not release the culprit.

Truth was that the man he captured look, very frail, he almost felt pity for him. Perhaps he'd merely been a peon to this whole mess.

His other hand made only the slightest movement, tilting his weapon just a milimiter enough that the strength of his swing may obliterate anyone who came close, this wasn't mathematically calculated of course, he was terrible at math, but what he did have was practice swinging big objects, steel beams, clubs, baseball bats, all with no particular reason other than boredom most of the time, or a part-time job, or some sort of sport practice he tried to get into at some point.

He didn't believe in coincidences, even if he no longer was into any sort of sport, he knew all the hard work, the many trainings, the several pounds of flour he carried, the construction materials he had to handle, it was all part of a higher plan or something of the like. He couldn't put it into words, or give what he believed in a name, but he was at least sure that there was something beyond mortality, and a destiny of sorts... He was already getting lost in his thoughts again. He shook his head and kept a firm stance, not intimidated by one the cultists swinging one of their censers close to him.


Things were not how he expected them to be, even more confused by the fact the woman who stood at the front was attempting to strike conversation rather than being agressive- Not that he could judge her, he was aware not everyone went head first into danger before actually analyzing the consequences.

He decided to weigh his options for once, and realized that, he likely should follow the stranger's lead. He was always a follower, not a leader, not heroic or anything of the like, he just stayed in the back, handled things his way and left once he got his money, simple, safe, clean jobs done with no problem; but this time it was clear he couldn't just get out of it on his own, even if he despised the idea of teamwork, more due to his anxiety rather than actually disliking his companions at the time.

Marco was not about to join a cult full of dancing fools, but he questioned how truly evil these people were or if just like his prisoner, they weren't at fault.


-


The woman, smiled, even if it was imperceptible through her mask, making it known only through a soft laugh, but it wasn't in mockery of the lawyer, it was an honest laugh, as if the three hunters were supposed to know the answer to it.

"Oh no, how could you ever give a name to something that grand? Try as we might, it just doesn't feel right. We don't know where he comes from, or what he is, but he is beautiful- So, powerful and intoxicating, all you can do, is fall to your knees, and offer yourself for him to take control... Have you never experienced such bliss? To let something far greater than you let control and let you just, sink down onto nothingness? No worries, no pain, just the endless void of his control. A piece of paper is nothing compared to devotion."

She sighed in peace, as if she was attempting to fill her lungs with the incense. Spoken again, just as amicably as before.


"But if it is so relevant to you, I suppose I cannot deny your request, we may bring you a 'written agreement' if that will bring peace to you- After all that is what we wish. To let it all in his hands. All we need, is those strong enough to truly exorcise- To clear a path for him, so that we can praise, yes? I'm sure you'd understand, you are a smart one. The one in red may not be convinced of it yet- But I am sure if the man and you agree, she will too be blessed...."


Their leader didn't talk as if she was trying to convince them, or deceive them, or anything of the like, she spoke wholeheartedly, as if she truly believed that lack of will or, a mind, a soul even was the way to human perfection, of course, one could argue that everyone was free to choose their own way and will, even if they lost themselves, but what she spoke of was more like mind control over the entire world, much less harmless if asked to the average person.

 

[Azra]

The possessed slumped over they didn't resist Taylor's actions and she didn't hesitate. For a moment when facing others and seeing the focus on conversation her own eyes drifted to the arrow we head. Deep red stain, almost more black in hue. The ichor was thick the remaining hint of blood didn't drip off the arrow so much as seeped? Was that the proper word for it she wondered? Either way it flowed like the blood of the decaying rather than living, coagulated and thick in nature. She hadn't seen the undead much in her work, the few not banished away involved a living host.

Begrudgingly if Taylor was being honest she liked it. It felt simpler to her. Taylor had killed, she would inevitably do so again. In her eyes though there was no other way to save the soul in some instances so execution was where her decision ended up. The idea of just evil to expunge was easier to swallow. Taylor tried to dwell on that, and the question if trying to pray for the soul then was worth it just now. That was more comforting of a thought than asking if she was to inexperienced for the job. Hadn't even encountered the undead, while one of them seemed built like they'd been training ages. And the other exorcist in the room was dressed more professionally than Taylor could even fathom being.

She pushed away thoughts she had noodle arms as the large man continued to hold up his prey. She was truthfully decently fit herself but it was nothing by comparison. Attention moved to the suit and the respondent. Two questions, concise. The response though long winded which bothered her. Taylor saw the answers being given as clearly dodging or overcomplicating the matter. "Sorry not old enough for the intoxicating stuff." Course plenty eighteen year olds had snuck a taste of alcohol or tried substances. She felt cooler giving a quip though, other two seemed more grandiose then her. Taylor also couldn't dip much into legal talk so she stuck to humor to try and come off more confident then she maybe was in truth.

"Truly exorcise, the endless void. Sounds a bit extremist and less well lit then most heaven concepts are described." She prayed to a few gods, believed of a heaven in the end but unsure which power was most true or if it was various. Her faith though was fairly sure in the idea an endless void wasn't a good thing. She could wait if the others wanted, but her grip on the bowstring didn't lax yet. Those gathered and speaking didn't seem possessed she didn't want to hurt them. However Taylor also had long sense come to terms she might be damned by the end of her crusade. If she had to just kill she was relatively sure she could stomach the act. If purging evil meant she was condemned and a murderer so be it.

 

[illirica]

Oh, good, answers. Now, the woman seemed to be absolutely insane, but that didn't mean that the information she was providing didn't have some value. In fact, in some circles, the information could end up being all the more valuable because she was absolutely insane. Lex took out a small notepad and retrieved a pen from where it had been stuck haphazardly in her hair, jotting down notes, quotes, and anything else she might think was relevant from the cultish demeanor.

There was absolutely no way that Lex was signing on for this one. Loss of free will or individuality was a huge problem area. It was a legal nightmare as well, because if someone had agreed to like-and-subscribe to a higher power and then committed a crime, there was the whole question of whether they were responsible for their actions, or whether the controlling deity was ultimately responsible. Usually the law came down on the side that the controlling deity was responsible, but good luck prosecuting the claim. And, of course, there was the opposing side where the deity could argue that they might have taken someone's free will, but they hadn't ordered them to do that, their follower had come up with whatever it was all on their own... it got tangled pretty quickly.

Not that Lex didn't enjoy a good legal tangle, but she also enjoyed having proper documentation. The girl she'd - Lex did not want to say 'adopted', but perhaps 'was shepherding' - didn't seem to be too tempted by the offering. Understandable, the cult had come on a little heavily there. The large man mostly just seemed overwhelmed, but he was continuing to hold his own, which was as much as anyone could have asked.

"Hm." Lex wasn't contemplating selling her soul, merely how much paperwork that would actually require. "Your ancient spirit, does he have an Aperture Operating License filed with the Demesne of Massachusetts? I am understanding that your presence here constitutes as Heraldic Notification of Intent to Enter, but you do understand that the waiting period for manifestation after Annunciation is generally a minimum of one half of a lunar cycle? On the next full moon, and so on? Do you have a timeline strategized for the sun-devouring as well as the necessary permits to be filed for exceptions to the Laws of Physics?"

 

[ItsFulgrim]

The woman was, a bit taken a back by the questions Lex presented, perhaps she wouldn't be able to get what she desired this time.

"Seems like I cannot win this game, can I? Whatever I may say may lead to my judgement and downfall. Fair play, very clever from you part..."

She coughed quietly, her clearly frail body stumbling a bit as she moved away from the group, almost dissapointed.


"Legal systems, truly a stain in humanity, they are quite flawed, I believe you know that, no need to get into complexities. Our praise to the devourer is ancient, it has gone under many names and faces, ever changing with each passing decade, all the way back into the first days of civilization, perhaps not as large back then, but still, a cult, at least in your words..."

Suddenly, she turned back to the lawyer, with strange confidence, but, stiff, speaking slightly different from how she'd done so previously.

"Generally, if a cult is operating as a religious organization, it may not need special permits beyond what any other religious group would require. However, if the cult engages in activities that require permits, such as building structures, holding large gatherings, or providing certain services, they would need to comply with local laws and obtain the necessary permits... And we do own permits in several states, our churches founded and working as we speak, we do no bad, we make no profit and in fact, we donate large sums to charity and provide shelter to people out of the goodness of our hearts... We are not involved in any goverment bodies or anything similar, we are, by all means, harmless. We do not seek to isolate our members from society... We yearn for others to see like we do, do you not believe that is freedom of religion? After all, we believe, we do not control what the great one beyond does. For it is above mortal troubles, could you tie someone to the laws of physics, if by their mere existence they bend them? Not out of malice, but by nature?"


The leader sighed, as if attempting to regain the air in her lungs after her long rant.


"Just like now, it needs to feed. Watch as our devotion nourishes its form."

-

As the woman spoke, a strong shift in the mist began spiralling, dozens or more shades of gray and black shooting up from the ground and forming into what was clearly, spirits. Oddly enough, not humanoid, some had tentacles, some claws, some simply were amorphous cloths of mist that swirled and gasped and moaned in a tone of pain. None of these cultists seemed to have summoned them, in fact, three of them were now being surrounded, in a disturbing show of violence that turned the mist of their 'bodies' a hue of red.

Those who managed to feed, returned to the spiral, and dissapeared. Some, only stayed close and watched.

However this violence was willing, not a scream or yelp, mere deep breaths from the victims who extended their arms as if to embrace their end.


Marco was not new to something this horrifying, but it didn't mean he liked it, causing him to scrunch up his face a bit in disgust at that oh so familiar smell of iron that now came from so close in front of them.

One of the strange creatures that remained attempted approching the group, circling close to the lawyer and the woman in red, revealing long, sharp rows of fangs manifested from its insides, as some sort of black void in space, snapping and biting at the air before them.


Its existence was however, cut short.

A swing, a pop, and a crash. A smokey string left in the wake of the thing. Now, it was splattered against the ground, under the large Macuahuitl the curly haired male carried. These things weren't spirits, in the traditional sense. They were, physical, but at the same time, they weren't. Some sort of amalgamation of energy, tangible, energy. Empty, no soul.

If there was a way to describe it, was only to call it a sort of living emotion formed into some sort of solid smoke, it was confusing, but all he knew was, they were hostile.

And hostiles got the rough treatment according to his justice system.

 

[Azra]

"Faith should be open to progress and betterment. To seak a void is antithesis, freedom to believe shouldn't be slavery or oblivion." Perhaps the time of conversation was over Taylor couldn't help but to speak her thoughts all the same. The cultists seemed to place virtue into a power that was ruinous in nature. It was going to be destruction the sights already seemed clear to her. The possessed she had slain wasn't someone taken over it was a woman killed for a fiendish power to flow into the material world. One of the followers turned into a horror to Nash teeth at them.

The horror didn't bother her. She was new to such elevated sights of eldritch horror but she had seen death. What rattled her was the devotion believers in this power didn't seem to open way for powers to claim their bodies. This wasn't a sacrifice of one's self to let powers of beyond escape into this world. Unwilling as it was the dogma had the dying seem open to their ill fate. She believed in gods, she had seen the malevolent equivalent even. This though was horrifying in its blasphemous parallel to the dogma some believers had. In the face of the unknown she swallowed a nervous tick at what she knew her next steps needed to be.

A few steps back to be behind the mountain of muscle, she would use his physical stature as cover as her bow string snapped to a undrawn status. The arrow that had been drawn Taylor bit down on as she tugged on her necklace. The arrow she held in her teeth she didn't want for this, the ankh necklace was clutched in her palm tightly until skin was punctured. With a hole in her hand a glyph was swiftly drawn. One of the horrors was rushing her way and the archer turned.

A hand was raised no weapon just a open palm. Until suddenly there was a flash of red. Some might call it a light some might say it was a mist. It's composition was abstract by design, but what was clear was a shield was formed. A sliver of her soul bled away to turn blood into a shield of divination. The devilish forces were to vast in number she knew she couldn't fend them off with her bow alone. Shield raised, a open palm more then instrument in hand she flung her bow briefly over her shoulder. Taylor having another plan in mind to try and help tihin out some of the chaos surrounding them.

Her un-bloodied hand goes to her belt, a small pouch opened as she retrieved a vial. A faint light seemed to be in the tiny flask. A curious thing it looked just water, but light seemed to reflect from the room off the sloshing liquid inside in a unnatural way. Holy water. A small prayer was muttered and then with all the force she could muster the vial was thrown toward the ceiling. The glass vial would surely shatter and the water was sure to scatter in as wide a pattern as she could hope for. Having said that it was still a vial hardly buckets of the stuff. The small amount of divine rain though would answer how well the sacred water worked. She did have more in her car if need be, but no point in considering that weapon if her vial alone did nothing.

 

[illirica]

Lex could certainly spot a case of possession when it crossed her path. The woman had been quite tangled up for a moment, there, which was the usual reaction to having legalese thrown in someone's direction - that or complete befuddlement, not so much that there were laws that governed these sorts of things, but that there were lawyers who specialized in them. It made sense, of course, after people thought about it for a little while - if you were going to enter a deal with the fae or a demon or some sort of lurking tentacled horror, you wanted to know that you weren't getting screwed (unless you wanted to be, given, ah, the nature of some of those deals-). People found ways to protect themselves, and at some point over the many years of human history, that had evolved into having people who were good at this sort of thing to be the ones to do it. In some places and times they had been priests or religious leaders, in others there were shady government organizations, but in the end it always seemed to channel towards outsourcing things to lawyers.

She listened to the entirety of the speech without committing herself one way or another. She wasn't about to get caught up in an inadvertent agreement, but she could certainly take notes and review them later. If this were all civilized, they would part ways, go over notation, and meet again at a later point to discuss concessions and arbitration.

This was not, however, going to be civilized. When angry beings got hungry, civility and table manners were some of the first things to go. The mist coalesced into tentacles, which decided to go about devouring people. They seemed to be having an enjoyable time of that. Lex wondered if that was part of the contract. She supposed if she had to get devoured, perhaps better that than the variant with screaming, but... no, on second thought, she absolutely wanted to go out screaming.

Not for a while, though.

The big man swing his weapon, curtly ending one of the things, and the girl was fighting with prayer and holy water. Not bad choices, for both of them. Lex took a few more notes while they were at it, then tucked her pen back into the haphazard knot of hair and folding her hands calmly behind her back, straightening her shoulders and her posture.

"Argument: Firstly, as per Lovecraft 1928, 'In the midst of black seas of infinity, it was not meant that we should voyage far.' Secondly, as per relative motion - Einstein 1905 and 1915 - by your presence here it can be said that such travel by us has been forced to occur without consensus, therefore causing interruption of the R'lyeh contracts of the 1900s. As such, your presence here must be rescinded: to the depths be gone, and trouble us no further. A continued presence here will indicate breach of contract and incur the sanctions of the local landholders theological."

A warning, or a threat, or a promise, or just a closing argument, because it was definitely going to be closing and not opening, if Lex had anything to say about it - and she did, in fact, have a great many things to say about it. That was her whole thing.

"Be gone."

 

[ItsFulgrim]

The three spiritists' counter was recieved by a rather angry cult leader, a shivering hand going up to her mask and scratching at the surface where her eyes would be if it had a space for that. She groaned in anguish at the sight of her lord's manifestations were repelled by the holy water made her shrink back in disgust, as if the very temple she managed had been disgraced by the liquid.

The shield the girl in red had created had also caused the wretched that attacked her to fall back, almost afraid to even approach when the cover was manifested. Her blood, just thinking about it made the woman in charge boil in rage, her calm and collected demeanor torn to bits, even further more as the rift shook with instability at the words of the lawyer.

How? How was someone like her able to hold so much control over spirits? Just because of a damned piece of paper? Truth be told, she doubted the devourer was weak enough to fall for a trick so cheap, but, why was it retreating? Was it... Unsure of its chances against the three of them?

No, she couldn't have doubt, it would be a sin against her beliefs. However, if her lord retreated... She might as well too.

She picked up her pace, as a cloud of the spirits covered her escape. The rift slowly but surely closed off, with a rumbling and a roar that was so deep that couldn't be heard, but could be felt in the organs, making the listener sick if not prepared for the intensity of the vibrations the sound had produced.

-

Marco felt the effects of this almost immediately, having to clutch his chest for a second as he felt as if his entire nervous system had shaken out of its place. Regardless, he had no time to waste.

Just as he was about to rush after the woman, he just heard the confused and fearful whimper of his prisoner, who he had forgotten about a while ago... But there he was shaking like a leaf and, likely with an empty bladder, gross.

No matter, in a desperate attempt at another succesful capture, the man took one of the shards of obsidian from his weapon, and threw it as hard and fast as he could, directed towards the cult leader. Sadly, due to its odd shape, it went in an angle, rather than neutralizing the woman, all he got was to make a decently deep cut to her leg, which would've stopped her, if it wasn't for the others aiding her. They escaped, leaving the three exorcists to fight what was left of the corrupt beings.

Thankfully they had been distracted by the short rain of holy water, the issue was, the ones that had their meal were now seemingly separating themelves into two or three, multiplying from the remains, not to mention those who were now devouring the ones affected by the mist, which was just now begining to clear.


There would be too many if they kept up at this rate, even for experimented people like them.

He tossed the man he had captured to the ground behind them, he would be useful later, maybe.

He was not clever enough to think of a way out himself, but he at least guessed the one with the sticky notes would have something, considering that from the looks of it, she had made the larger tentacle abomination run.

With a weak but polite tone of voice, he requested her help.


"I don't know what you did to that thing back there- But I can buy you time, if you repeat it with those things before the water dries off 'em..."

He wasn't sure what he was meant to do, but, maybe this was like one of those videogames he played when he was younger, he was supposed to be the brute, or at least he guessed so. His task, to make sure that the shield didn't have as much to deal with, and that their MVP didn't get any damage, easy enough, sure, he wasn't scared at all.

One that had managed to overcome the pain from the purified liquid snapped at him while he was talking, sinking its teeth into his shoulder's flesh and shaking violently like some sort of rabid dog. Regardless, Marco barely winced, signing his free hand's fingers into the symbol of Rin, the seal of power, which sent the smoke being flying back with a broken maw as it was repelled by the energy his body produced in an instant.

 

[Azra]

Taylor cracked the hints of a smile at the sight of the rain falling upon the enemy. She always enjoyed seeing the result would it be more an ooze like acid upon the skin? Or would skin catch alight lit aflame by the sacred water? Did the composition sting in ways that sparked profanity or was it silent horror. The intricacies in differences still alluded the archer most time, her summarization was just there being hellish powers and eldritch ones. Which she knew was likely a over simplified view of things. It was easier to learn what works, then to understand the intricacies behind how something works. Taylor wasn't a brain surgeon for example but she knew that an arrow to the head usually ended things.

Seeing the other two in action was a sight of admiration. A physical ability behind one that Taylor could barely dream of having even in her prayers. Sure she tried to stay fit and keep her body as pure and healthy as one could given her life style. It was never going to compare to the sight of the man though. He had more to him though then that, runes something she maybe could learn. Then there was the lawyer, she always imagined them being the devils in disguise pop culture maybe swaying her view some. She had greeted the woman kindly though welcoming any exorcist rather then subscribing to any neg a time stereotype she may have imagined. Taylor though never expected to see such fantastic results however as those shown. With words alone, seeming more tangible then scripture. Spoken aloud it seemed to make the terror retreat. It was fascinating to Taylor. To the woman in red she saw herself as someone who made leaps of faith while the lawyer made leaps understanding gravity and physics. It was a funny comparison to her but also her best explanation for what she just witnessed.

The lead was running, a toss of obsidian ripped into the leg but didn't slow the target down. Assisted to much by a hoard of companions the cult leader would get away. To many bodies obscured the shot now from this angle she couldn't try and capitalize on the injury. Taylor however also was fast she had ran track. An idea was forming in her mind. Her fist tightens drops squeezed free as she moved around the duo of exorcist in a half circle. Her foot ran along the drops to draw a line "a barrier should you need time. It doesn't last to long though. And on topic of blood I'm going to try and get a sample." The bloodied arrow in her other hand, now also bit slick from saliva. Not Taylor's proudest moment but turned out blood rituals hurt. As for blood, her own rituals usually only had about three charges to them for what she shed. Taylor figured she could get more results out of it if she desired but believed that might be a sunk cost fallacy. Each time the technique was used her soul was torn by doing it sparingly she might live a decently long life. If she pushed a use to be stronger she asked her essence shredded faster.

IIf power resided in blood though then perhaps so to was knowledge. They couldn't stop the cult here but if they could get a blood sample perhaps they could know more for a future encounter. Blood on the floor likely dirtier by the ground, injured other possessed blood mixing with it that wasn't going to be informative. It showed though the opposition could be cut their weapons still worked. A spill on the floor might be unretrievable but what about blood on an arrow tip?

So Taylor took off toward a set of stairs she was quick the opposition was burnt and split in attention. She prayed this would be enough to allow her plan to work. Hastly the hooded figure dashed toward the stairs. Her fist tightened as she reached the first step the third charge in her bloody ritual squeezed out into a splash of crimson on the steps. Any immediate followers should come into collision with a barrier, brief as if may be. The repulsory effect she figured enough to keep them off her tail. Sprinting up the stairs one of the possessed was rushing her way the arrow was swiftly notched and let loose. Once more the arrow looked to split open the heart of the opponent, Taylor wished the evil could be pushed away by now though the possessed seemed to far gone. So like before she sought to kill the target let his soul move on instead.

With allies at work, closest opponent hopefully dead and a barrier hopefully in way of followers the archer rushed to a window. A shoulder used to shatter the glass as she withdrew another arrow this one clean, with the warehouse lights and the moon above the arrowhead caught the light. For a moment it didn't so much look arrow but a star. Blink and the shine glistening on the tip was gone though as the arrow was relinquished. The target was slowed from a previous wound, rattled by legal measures spoken. From up here the archer had better view of the mark. A kill shot didn't seem obtainable but what about injury? Her arrow was relinquished with aim to split open an eye and orbital bone. To coat the tip with blood as it speared toward a building on the opposite side of the road. Ideally with blood on the tip the arrow would be lodged in a wall with a blood sample gathered.

She had strayed from the pack though. Her turn to face companions or remaining possessed left so many unknowns.

 

[illirica]

The law still held.

Lex breathed a short sigh of relief. She vastly preferred to let other people be the ones to enforce things, rather than having to do it herself. Oh, she didn't mind the contracting part, it was just that she preferred the variant where everyone sat down around a table and talked at each other, not the sort where there were tentacled horrors trying to kill her.

She had, regrettably, a fair bit of experience with both. The contract reference had taken care of the worst of it, she thought, but that didn't mean that there weren't still a number of individuals around who were either unknowing of the law or considered expendable to it. Given how things had been going earlier, Lex rather suspected the latter. The cleaning up was not her strong suit, which was why her sigh was so short lived, especially when the big man stepped up and seemed to expect her to deal with the little ones the way she had dealt with the Other.

He was, however, quite earnest - and in his defense, it wasn't precisely like she had a choice in the matter. Either she could endeavor to help in some way, or she could, quite possibly, die here. Lex was generally opposed to dying, on principle. She'd seen quite enough of what happened afterwards.

"I'll see if I can come up with something," she said, shaking her head a little. "I'm going to need time, though."

The red-cloak played right into that, drawing a barrier line that Lex just had to hope would hold, with the two of them playing defense, because it was as good as she was getting right now. She sat down behind it, cross-legged, opening her briefcase in front of her and dipping a black feather in a vial of ichor, and scratched it across the floor, strange symbols that would seem unrecognizable at first, until they formed a circle - or rather, a ring.

One ring, to rule them all
One ring, to find them
One ring, to bring them all
And in the darkness, bind them.

Lex brought the tip of the quill to her mouth and licked it - vile - and with the Black Tongue of Mordor, spoke the words as they had been written.

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Every action attempted by the group miraculously worked in their favor, as if the universe itself had conspired to ensure their success.

The sample the hooded woman attempted to acquire was a success, a decently sizeable amount of blood captured across the surface of the arrow.

Blood was, interesting, a liquid of life yet a symbol of agony to most people, extremely valuable in the hands of those aware of it's uses.

Speaking of which.

The shield provided by Taylor managed to keep the eldritch beings at bay.

Each one struggled to approach the aura of the slayer. Something within her that instilled fear. Ancient entities often learned from those they encountered by mere proximity, and they could sense a thirst for justice within her that rivaled their own bloodlust, leaving them awestruck and wary of their next move.

Like prey encountering an apex predator, the eldritch beings kept their distance, seeking an entrance far away. But their attempts were futile, thwarted by the powerful swings of the big man's weapon.

Words were spoken, and ink sank into the tiles of the floor, engraving a seal that solidified unbroken. Time seemed to halt around it as laws governing the universe were defied. The concept of the ring was not only successful but devastating to the foul beasts. They were sucked into a vortex conjured from nothingness, forming a ring with their bodies of smoke. Slowly at first, they spun, then faster and faster, as if thrown into a cosmic blender, merging and tearing apart at random intervals within the ring.

Darkness surrounded them, devouring them in a frenzy. Fiery, formless dark entities—hands, claws, eyes—ravenously tore at the beings with reckless abandon until none were left.

To think that words could wield such power; Marco would have chosen this form of exorcism long ago had he known.


However, these foul creatures always had a trick up their sleeves. As they were torn apart, some remains of them were blasted out of the vortex, small papper-like clippings of their shadowy flesh, which seemed to make a horrid burn into whatever they fell onto.

Corpses, the ground, fallen cultists and a couple of the weak exorcists that had attempted to perform the cleanse earlier and had fallen to the mist. Some where, still able to be saved, despite the wounds, some were missing that luck, and were faced with a flame consuming the flesh on their faces, making their recovery imposible considering how deep into their skulls the flame had penetrated, incinerating the insides of their head.

Marco tightened his jaw as he observed the damage done. It felt quite bad not to act and save these souls, but there was not much he could do, they were not particularly saints either, but he wasn't sure they deserved such a painful death, even when deep in trance.

Now, without the shield Taylor provided, a few stray pieces of the beasts were thrown towards him and Lex.

He was not sure how physically capable the lawyer was, still, he suspected she wouldn't be able to do much about dodging the projectiles while on the floor.

As soon as the first blast came near them, he tossed his bag at it, barely making it so that the flame consumed the satchel rather than him. Then came another one, curved as if it was a baseball, going towards Lex yet redirected by a swift swing from Marco's heavy weapon, a home run, nice.

Then came one at last, small, yet slightly faster, with a level of malicious consciousness. It dodged the swings, the objects thrown at it, clearly intending to go for the lawyer in a desperate attempt at taking vengeance for the now fallen extensions of itself.

Yet, with just milliseconds to spare, he managed to capture the smoke sphere in his palm, feeling his flesh burn and sizzle with the dark flame. As much as he shook hand, the wretched ember remained, consuming the bandages on his hand until it finally gave in and extinguished, leaving a stench of sulfur and death, and a very pained man behind.


Marco looked a this hand, his fingers barely reacting, his muscles twitching and jolting in pain every once in a while, not to mention the bite on his shoulder that bled slowly yet insistently.

"Hijo de-" Marco bit his tongue, signing a cross softly over his chest in apology for nearly cursing, or well, cursing in his mind.

He took a deep breath.

The aftermath already revealed, it was, scary, but thankfully some people still survived, even if most cultists escaped.

As much as that angered him.


"That was, really impressive..." He said, clearing his throat as he spoke to Lex, looking off into the distance, hoping to see Taylor too, if she was still where he'd las seen her.

Sure, what she did with the tentacle abomination was much more impactful, but it was still rather amazing to see she could conjure things from literature.

She'd done it previously with the works of Lovecraft, however, Marco was not a big reader, The Lord of the rings was the closest thing he would get to actually understanding any sort of book.

 

[Azra]

The string snaps into place an arrow whistling by and the wood vibrates from the shot. A comfort to the archer at any time. Some of it a reminder of a simpler time another comfort I'm weaponry the tools to actually do something. There was a brief balled fist that pumped in the air, she kept it close to her person but it was still there. A small reaction of triumph for the successful shot. The cult leader might live but Taylor liked to think herself as drawing first blood. Granted the drop of blood that dripped from her hand was a quick reminder as well of the dangerous game she played. A piece of her was gone now, a look over the shoulder as well revealing...

Well she didn't really have the words for what she just saw. Her blood helped run defense backed by the might of the large guy. The lawyer drew a circle and was maybe saying something. She didn't get the best view of the ritual and was to far to hear anything. What Taylor did see though was results. A grandiose display that cleared the warehouse of threats as if it were nothing. The full sights her mind struggled to grasp, but the ending was at least easier to understand.

"Show off. Be down in a second."

She spoak loudly and with the tone of congratulations. It was a envious woman though that climbed out the window. She was mindful of the height doing what she could to lower herself from the window then simply jump. Held on for a second to check the landing. Make sure when she fell it was a smooth landing. Athletism only could go so far, much as Taylor liked action movies and the idea of doing reckless stunts she understood the need for caution. If blood was power, no use in spilling it recklessly. Granted she didn't know if it worked in such a way still no use in risking such experimenting. Busting oneself open with a fall would be avoided. In the quiet of the night she collected herself, her current company showed exorcism skills like she didn't think even obtainable. They showed a raw physical power she didn't think she could ever approach. Her steps take her to an arrow lodged into a wall.

Swinging the bow over her shoulder the archer plucks her arrow from the wall. A bloody hand print left on the structure, for a moment it looked like the light was perfectly reflected in the surface. Then it was just a stain no different then any other, perhaps friends in the warehouse to would see it. The blood going from reflective to mundane. Taylor rather liked watching it if she was honest she didn't see it as extraordinary but extra ordinary. Miracles shown in a subdued way. Soon enough she was stepping back into the warehouse eyes looking at the carnage.

"May your souls find peace. God's of one's choosing seeing this as not a stain on your soul. I pray to mine for you if nothing else." Her red hood draped over her head as her hand clutched the ankh necklace of hers. She longed for mercy to be shown to the dead. Only once done praying for the dead would she head towards the other two exorcists arrow in hand. Though between arrow retrieval, envy and prayer she didn't feel it was her turn to speak about whatever came next.