Closed The Gentle Art of Exorcism

((Jomi)) A story of Kelvics, cats and angry men.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

The Gentle Art of Exorcism

Postby Madeira Craven on March 28th, 2018, 4:52 am

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Jomi's demand was still ringing in Madeira’s ears as she gasped for breath. Everard was on his knees in front of her, grunting with his head pulled back to reveal the soft pulse in his throat. Her brave ghost was grappling with an enemy that could destroy him, just to give her precious ticks with which to escape. She just needed to get to the door.

Fresh tears poured down her face as she wobbled where she stood, anchored by her dead leg. Through the sparkling film of water the black cane several meters away looked to be as far away as Leth.

"I'm sorry, Jomi." she cried, hands over her face. "I'm so sorry."

Everard had pulled his head out of Jomi's weak grasp. With a motion like he was sweeping away the curtains from a window, he turned at the waist and slashed Jomi across the chest with the imbued knife. A curl of soulmist followed the blade out and disappeared in the still air. Then he pulled back and slashed him again. And again. Each time a little piece of the soul was pulled out and destroyed.

"Stop it! Everard, Stop!" Madeira was shrieking, unable to do anything to stop her cousin hurting her only ally.

There was a dull thud as Everard stuck the point of the blade into the floor. Madeira flinched. She couldn’t bring herself to see if he had pinned Jomi with the knife like a butterfly under a pin, or if he had simply lost interest in the weak spirit. Then there was no choice but to wait there, feeling her heartbeat tap fast and uneven through to the tips of her fingers, as he lazily got to his feet. A crackling could be heard from the shuddering wicker box as the cat, gone mad with the noise and chaos, tried to chew its way out.

"You think you're better than me?” Everard finally spoke, leaning in and gently cupping his hand under Madeira’s jaw. "Maddy, dear, you're not better than me. You're more obedient than I am. You come when you are called, are sicced on the things they want destroyed. That's not what they asked of their favoured, sweetheart, thats the same thing they ask of their dogs." His hand was tightening as he spoke, his fingers digging into the hinge of her jaw and levering her mouth open. ”You collect broken things and have them call you Master. Jomi, Allister, sweet little Emma... You like it, don't you? Gives you a little thrill, playing at having power? To be the diseased queen of worthless creatures?" His fingernails were biting into her cheeks. The soft parts of her mouth were comically and grotesquely contorted under the pressure, but she dared not swat his hand away. ”Being favoured takes more than being a dutiful little girl. And that's all you are. That's all you were made for; just another tool for people better than you."

He let her go. She recoiled as he reached out and patted her gently on the cheek, like an older brother might. Then as if he had lost interest in her too he stepped away, picking his way over the debris to the basket.

Madeira's leaned against the wall, unable to stay upright on her own, and coughed until her mouth was sour. She couldn't look at Jomi. She didn't want to see what he thought of his master expressed in his black eyes. The master who promised to protect him when she couldn't even protect herself.

Everad was standing there, watching them. Madeira blinked away the tears and saw her cane still lying discarded several meters away.

"My cane", she croaked, new tears glistening in her bloodshot eyes. “I need my cane."

Everard didn't answer. He crossed his arms and stood there, waiting.

Shame burned through her. It was a low, rumbling thing, like the shaking of the earth. Tears ran in rivers down her cheeks as she slid down the wall and lowered herself to the floor. And like that, on her knees, red faced and heaving with suppressed sobs, she dragged herself across the floor.
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Madeira Craven
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The Gentle Art of Exorcism

Postby Jomi on May 1st, 2018, 12:16 am

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It was a cruel trick of the gods, Jomi mused, that the only touch a ghost could feel was that of pain.

Another curl of soulmist broke away as Jomi let out an inhuman scream while Madeira, anchored by her dead leg, could do nothing but watch. Her tearful, pleading words filled him with a sinking hopelessness as his back was pinned to the dark mahogany floors. Jomi threw up his incorporeal arms instinctively in a attempt to block the incoming attacks, but it only served to amuse the sadistic Craven. The attacks kept coming, slashing away at his mist, the imbued blade pulling the struggling ghost back under Everard’s cruel grin every time he tried to flee.

As Jomi became weaker, his form faded and the attacks slowed. The blades thrusts turning into an almost mindless sweeping motion as if the Craven were flicking away a bothersome insect. Everard’s taunt, sneering face began to relax into an almost bored expression once he tired of his no longer struggling victim. As he moved to pull himself to his feet he raised the imbued knife one last time and sent it straight down towards the ghost. Jomi flinched his mists away with not even a centimetre to spare as the knife was embedded into the floor with a dull crack.

Jomi lay motionless and in pain at Madeiras feet as Everard lifted himself to his feet and took hold of her face. His voice was no longer conniving or taunting, rather it was delivered with a kind of straightforwardness one might use to discuss the weather as he ripped into her.

Once Everard released her face and Madeira lowered herself to her knees Jomi felt a wave of some overwhelming emotion overcome him. He looked into her teary eyed face that seemed to shine with a new light as he was hit with a revelation. This woman dragging herself across the floor was the only person who still gave a shit about him. She was down in the underground and the slums with him at night looking for his bonded. She came to his aid when he’d been trapped in a cursed tavern. She was the only person who still treated him like a person, no matter if he deserved it or not. She convinced Allister, Emma and himself that they were not the worthless creatures everyone told them they were. They were a team. A family. A crazy, delusional, dysfunctional family of the dead, dying and forgotten. She was the only thing tethering him to this world and his sanity.

She deserved better than him, but right now he was all she had, and he was not done being useful yet.

Jomi was no more than a weak haze at that point, he no longer had enough substance left to materialize. He moved like a breath of steam over the floor, picking his way over the scattered debris of the ruined drawing room. He neared Madeira’s black and silver cane, discard near an overturned end table and wrapped his ethereal form around the silver head. He gathered his thinning mists, scrapping together what little force he could he began to pull it toward Madeira. The cane might of well be a stone plinth with the effort the overtaxed, overspent, weakened spirit was exerting. The foot of the cane lightly scrapped across the dark wood with an agonizing slowness as the ghosts form flickered uncontrollably. Once it was within arms length of the crawling woman the silver head of the cane dropped to the floor with a soft tap as the ghost, pushed beyond his limits, disappeared from view. No longer having the energy to even be seen.


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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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The Gentle Art of Exorcism

Postby Madeira Craven on May 1st, 2018, 4:20 am

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On her hands and knees, Madeira was crawling towards her cane. She was suppose to be better now. She was stronger than she had ever been. Why was it never enough? Suddenly she was a little girl again, standing in front of her father in with tears flowing down her face and blood from her arms. A bowl of failed soulmist sat on the table and her father was telling her exactly how worthless she was.

Suddenly the cane wobbled and started to move. It was dragging towards her, centimetre by centimetre. Jomi was helping her.

Even after all that had been said, and all the things she couldn’t protect them from, he stayed. A different kind of tear pricked her eyes, and as she reached for the handle that had clattered to the floor, she smiled a sad smile for the ghost of the lonely Kelvic.

“Thank you”, she whispered.

“You two deserve each other”, Everard laughed from his spot by the box, and the sound was like the thunder of a war drum. At that moment, Madeira wondered what it would take to kill him.

The wicker crate was crackling with a sound like a house fire as the cat tried to chew its way through. Everard kicked it as he passed, and from inside came an animal scream of pain. Madeira watched her cousin stride across the room, tousling his hair to messy perfection as he went, as if he had not a care in the world. He kicked open the door, and he was gone.

Madeira and Jomi, both broken in their own way, were left there to pick up each others pieces as best they could.
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1439
Words: 1235383
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
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The Gentle Art of Exorcism

Postby Madeira Craven on May 1st, 2018, 4:29 am

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Grades Awarded!

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Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Negotiation: 1xp
  • Meditation: 2xp
  • Observation: 3xp
  • Leadership: 5xp
  • Acting: 1xp
  • Endurance: 2xp
  • Rhetoric: 3xp
  • Logic: 1xp
  • Intimidation: 2xp
  • Persuasion: 2xp
  • Socialization: 1xp
  • Spiritism: 1xp
  • Weapon- sword cane: 1xp

Lores
  • Craven Family: a measure of worth
  • Meditation: counting to focus the mind
  • Minerva Craven: powerful head of house
  • Lore of the shame of cat exorcism
  • Acting: faking affability
  • Persuasion: using force
  • Leadership: delegation
  • Peter: the cat in blue pyjamas
  • Everard: most hated cousin
  • Jomi: cares about Madeira
  • Madeira: worthless in Everard’s eyes
  • Lore of humiliation

Awards & Retribution


Notes


Jomi

Skills
  • Soulmist Projection: 5xp
  • Materialization: 5xp
  • Possession: 1xp

Lores
  • Lore of distracting oneself
  • Everard Craven: dangerous spiritist
  • Madeira: control with threats
  • Madeira: thinks Jomi is invaluable
  • Peter: the cat in blue pyjamas
  • Lore of protectiveness towards Madeira
  • Spiritism: the Lie
  • Lore of the cruelty of Everard
  • Lore of the pain of grief
  • Soulmist projection: overgiving
  • Spiritism: attacked by an imbued weapon

Awards & Retribution


Notes
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1439
Words: 1235383
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

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