Closed This You Protect

((Jomi)) It pays to have big friends

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 7th, 2018, 7:56 pm

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64th of Fall, 518
Madeira was lost.

This could be considered pretty par for the course in a new city. It could take a few weeks for immigrants to recognize new landmarks and memorize the easiest path home. But Madeira was an Avalad, and that changed everything.

Head back and breathing evenly through her nose, the Spiritist was centring herself while staring daggers into the thin blue face of god peeking from between the tall, mighty architecture of Zintia. At least, she supposed it was Zintia. A chill breeze whistled through her red cloak, pressing the skirt of her green dress against her legs and making her shiver. She gathered her cloak closed with a heavily jewelled hand and brushed the trailing locks of her unraveling chignon away from her face. She had found herself in some rarely travelled corner of the peak. Here the city's proud gardens were choked with the nodding heads of the last summer dandelions, it's cobblestone cracked and mossy and full of rainwater. She supposed she might be behind some residential area, or at least far enough away from the peaks fresh-faced shopping district to be considered unimportant. If nothing else, she was glad she was having her shopping delivered. Being weighted down with several heavy dresses while wandering would have been a pain all its own.

Madeira quietly cursed and sucked at her bottom lip, her blue eyes flicking from one abandoned path to the other. That was the thing about living your entire life in Alvadas, the city's constantly changing layout and mad leaps into absurdity made one's mind resilient to shock and lent itself to quick thinking. But it came at the sacrifice of any sense of predictability or spacial awareness. She quite literally could not get from point A to point B without help. And that help typically came in the form of Emma, a child who lived and died in the much more logical city of Riverfall.

Madeira twisted the empty moonstone ring around her finger and sighed. She had lost sight of the girl a while back, and had forgotten to have her refill the ring the last time she had summoned her. She did have a full ring left, a large, flat onyx stone on her left hand, but she wasn't desperate enough to use it yet. Jomi found her ‘disability' greatly amusing. If she summoned him to escort her she'd never hear the end of it. No, she could logic her way out of this.

No matter how hard she listened, she couldn't hear people. It must be one of the city's strange 'rest periods'. But it stood to reason that the more opulent the building, the closer to the city's centre she must be, and people tend to converge around the centre. Scanning the skyline, she caught sight of a tall, skyglass dome that might do the trick. If she kept heading for it, she was bound to find people eventually.

Filled with renewed purpose, Madeira gathered herself against the chill and marched down the lefthand path.
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Last edited by Madeira Craven on September 12th, 2018, 10:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 7th, 2018, 8:00 pm

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The tap of her soft-soled shoes reverberated on the flanking stone buildings. In the gardens the trees were a riot of colours, the air heavy with the green decay of fall. But Madeira dared not inspect the beautiful, lonely surroundings lest she lose sight of the dome that was the needle of her broken internal compass. So she blindly followed its point, passing under an arch she had thought without inspection to be another over elaborate side street, or the entrance to another garden, only to find herself in the middle of some tiny, private courtyard.

High stone walls were marked with stone benches and the skeletal remains of dead shrubbery. The scummy green fountain in the middle would have been a frog paradise in warmer weather. Seeing no exit but the one she came through, Madeira huffed in annoyance and began to turned away, but not before she heard a startled cough behind her.

Leaning against the wall of the arch she just came through was a man, but it wasn't a man like she had ever seen before. He was picking himself up off the ground where he was crouched, dusting off his wrinkled once-fine robe. In his hand was a battered crow feather dusted with a fine yellow powder. Taller than Allister and broader than Jomi, he had the lean, desperate muscles and overbright eyes of a habitual drug user. But that wasn't what made her step back, her hip colliding with the dirty fountain.

"Are you lost, girl?" he asked, shaking off his surprise. The words words whistling through his empty nose and what was left of his cheek.

So this is what uncle Frode was warning us about, she thought, as the reality dawned on her. Much of the right side of the man’s face, from eye to chin, was stone. Reimancy gone wrong, the most brutal type of overgiving. His nose had crumbled away, and she could see straight into the quivering, sore-looking red of his sinuses. His cheek hung heavy and low, pulling a deep crescent of flesh out from under his eye. Through a hole in his jaw slithered a wormy tongue that poked nervously at his teeth.

"No", she lied. His eyes flicked to the bejewelled hand holding her cloak closed, and she quickly slipped it inside her clothes. "I just made a wrong turn. Excuse me."

"Maybe I can help you find it."

Something inside her was watching the gears turn in his head and the wide, wandering eye that followed the sparkle at her throat, and roared its warning. She stepped towards the only exit, and from inside her soul ripped forward her own dijed. She threw the hypnotism into the high set of her shoulders, let it roll off her cold eyes like a morning fog. Every line in her body, every twist of her aching soul, was desperately forcing the suggestion out to the flash of his greedy eyes.

Stay away from me.

Stuffing the feather in a pocket, man stepped in front of her, blocking her way. She veered her course but didn't stop, aiming for the diminishing space between his body and the arch. Lowering her shoulder, she was going to push past him.

"Don't be rude, I just want to help!" A hand shot out across her chest and wrapped around the far shoulder.

And just like that, as his hand clamped around her, restraining her from leaving, she was done being subtle. Sucking air into her lungs, she prepared to rattle the walls and wake the dead with her screaming.

But it seemed he was done being subtle too. Her heart thumped in her chest and her scream choked before it left her as the cold flat of a blade was pressed to the white flesh of her throat.
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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 9th, 2018, 4:23 am

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"Sorry, sorry. No, don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you", he pleaded as her body solidified with fear under his hands. “Look, give me the rings. You probably have tons at home like them, right? Just give me these ones, and you can go."

The sword wasn't utilitarian. It was some fancy, combat type; short and wickedly curved. Up close she could see the fineness of his robe, but the hem was frayed and the sleeves dirty. He fell from some high place in society, she decided. But she couldn't decide from where. Her eyes searched desperately for answers; anything to tell who he was, where he lived or worked. Anything. Because as soon as he let her go she was going to bring all of Hai down on him.

Allister will beat you black, she silently promised him. Beat you until your face is rubble and your body broken. Then I’m paying off Jomi and every ghost I come across again to haunt you. You will never sleep again, never know a moment of peace. I will make you regret ever laying eyes on me.

The hairs atop her head ruffled, and a sour breeze wash over her with a wet snuffling sound.

"You smell nice", he said.

Madeira twisted out of his grasp with a sudden spike of adrenaline, and the point of the sword followed her back into her high stone cage.

"It was a compliment!" he huffed, irritated. "Women. Gods."

He wasn't about to let her go without giving him something, but she couldn't let him have Jomi's ring. The onyx was the only protection she had left. Mind turning, she worked the jewelry off her fingers under her cloak. The black ring she dropped into her pocket, and it was the other two she presented to him in the palm of her hand.

"Here you go. No harm done", she smiled even as her heart hammered in her chest. "I'll be on my way. My husband is expecting me."

"Wasn't there another one?"

"You're mistaken, I wear one on each hand", Madeira nodded with complete sincerity. She let her free hand wander to her cheek to brush away an imaginary hair. The latent magic in her gloves woke up with the movement, and a hypnotic suggestion more powerful than any she had made before sailed across their eye contact. 'Trust me' the magic purred, weaselling its way through his mind and settling in the hollow space between his thoughts.

The suggestion seemed to take. He blinked rapidly and reached for the two rings without further comment. He stashed them in the pocket of his robe, but didn't lower the sword. Biting the good side of his lip, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

"How many Kina do you have on you?"

"Not much. But you're welcome to all of it." she carried on calmly to the escalation, as if she weren't being threatened at knifepoint. It was taking all her acting skills just to keep her voice even. “Then can I go? My family will be worried about me."

"The money first, please." his bright eyes followed the movement as she dug into her own pocket and surfaced with the flat stone disks. She held them out on the flat of her hand and he reached for them. But as he grabbed the coins he wrapped his thumb around the back of her hand and pinched off her glove. The silk slithered off her arm with a delicate rasping.

She pulled her hand away, figuring he wanted the glove. But as she did he dropped the coins and glove and snatched at her wrist, pulling her arm up to his face. Her bare skin erupted into gooseflesh and her throat with bile as he pressed it to his good cheek, rubbing the skin raw along his stubble.

"Gods, you're so soft. I've forgotten how soft women can be. It's my face, see? They're all so shallow. I'm really a nice guy, but they don't care. I'm ugly, that's all that matters to them." His eyes were closed, revelling in the sensation. She dared not pull away, but what little muscle she had tightened like a bowstring under this strangers touch. When his eyes opened again there was a new, lucid brightness to them.

"What else do you have on you?"

"A flask."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Take off your cloak."

Seeing no other alternative, she did as he demanded. Taking her hand back she untied the string from her throat and let it drop to the muddy ground. Beneath was her simple linen dress buttoned to her throat, straining around her swollen belly. She opened her arms so he could see that she really did have nothing left.
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Last edited by Madeira Craven on September 12th, 2018, 10:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 9th, 2018, 4:32 am

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The man was silent for a moment as she shivered in the cold. His lip was swollen from biting, his weight passing fretfully from foot to foot like a child teetering on the brink of gleeful disobedience.

"Are you hiding anything under the skirt?"

She wasn't. He knew she wasn't. But the tent in the front of his robes betrayed his motivations. And some deeply feminine part of her knew it was not the frail, pregnant woman shivering in the cold that had him hard. It was the blade aimed at her throat and the power he had over this creature weaker than himself. It was the knowledge that he could make her do anything he wanted.

Allister was too far away. Jomi could be on the moon for all he was aware of her terror. She had the ability to summon one of them at the blink of an eye, but she needed blood to do it.

Working moisture into her suddenly dry mouth, she told the man “no" for the first time.

"What do you mean 'no'?" he snarled. Thunder rolled from his eyes as his overwound emotions ejected themselves into rage. "You don't get to tell me no!"

"You have my money and my possessions. If you think I'll be humiliated too you're wrong."

"I'm not trying to-" he sputtered, the skin around his face rising red and blotchy with anger and something worse. "I just have to make sure! So suspicious- always think I'm some sort of creep... Hateful bitches..." He dissolved into an increasingly incoherent and venomous list of defensive accusations. Madeira watched the tip of his sword waver. In the midst of his tirade she brought her one bare hand to her mouth. She would chew through her skin to get to her blood if she had to.

"Petch, you know what?" he shook himself out of his delusional self-pitying pit. "Fine! I'll check myself!"

And this time Madeira did scream. She screamed as he stepped forward, lifted her by the back of the thighs and dropped her into the nearest bench. Knees and elbows collided with everything she could reach, nails ripped stripes into his moist pink skin and gouged at his eyes. Everything in her was fire and terror as he knelt between her legs.
Lifting her up by the front of her dress, he smashed her back against the wall. Little black lights popped in her eyes and she gagged as he shoved the flat of his blade between her teeth.

"Stop! Stop screaming. You'll ruin it if you keep screaming."

The corners of her mouth ripped as he pushed the blade deeper, and she coughed to a stop. Her lips pulled back into some broken parody of a smile as she fought to keep the cutting steel away from them.

And just then, looking up into his eyes with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes, she knew she would kill him. He was touching her, he was hurting her, and she would kill him for it.

"I'm really a nice guy", he pleaded, even as he levered her struggling legs aside with his hips. "Is it because of my face? Is it because you think I'm ugly?" His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, rucking up her skirt, and he sighed at the softness. "Why does nobody care? All you see is my face and you think I'm disgusting. But I'm a good man."

Blood was welling in the corner of her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She turned her head, pressing the sword deeper into her cheek until the drip became a stream.

"You do smell good, you know", the flesh inside his nose quivered as he leaned over her, grinding her hips into him. A trickle of powdered rock fell onto her chest, and the air between them was thick with rot and stone and terror. She had one elbow jammed between them, struggling to keep his weight off her and her baby. The other was trying to catch blood in her palm without him noticing.

She drew the sixteen-point star directly on her dress, over the pocket that held Jomi's ring. She reached for the drop of soulmist inside, opening that connection. Pulling, demanding, incessant, she needed her servant there now.
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This You Protect

Postby Jomi on September 11th, 2018, 12:26 am

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


Jomi pulled his nervous mists towards his core, shaping the furiously whipping mists towards himself and sculpting them into his proper shape as he scanned the city from his perch atop the Dusk Tower. It was a brand new city to explore, and he struggled to figure out where to start. His mission to find his bonded rattled around in his head, not allowing him a moment's peace. She wasn't in Alvadas, he couldn't find her in Riverfall either, so the ghost resolved to haunt this city from the lowly gutters to the highborn palaces until he was satisfied that she hadn't set down roots In Lavit, then move on to the next city if he must. Jomi squashed the creeping hopelessness of his mission and steeled himself against the onslaught of dread that creeped into his mind. A regular practice for the spirit as the days of undeath crept by without end. He stood to his full height and shook off the doubts as he peered searchingly into the horizon, preparing to blink himself to the gates of the city.

Until the sinking pulling sensation rattled through his core. For the tick before the summons the ghost knit his brows quizzically, the stress and erratic nature of the link could be felt lancing through his and set the ghost on edge. For a tick he felt his mistresse's fear.

In the time it takes to blink the ghost was shot across the city, down into the alley of a downtrodden residential area of the city. The dark ally blinked into focus as the ghost reeled from the summon, but he didn't have long to take it in. He stood beside his mistress as her legs kicked up into the air as her skirts bunched up in the crease of her hips, supported by a stone faced man who held a knife between her teeth.

The ghosts world narrowed to a pin point as any thought of his missing bondmate vanished from his mind, eclipsed by a deep burning rage and his Kelvics protective instincts. His person was being attacked, his substitute bondmate was being hurt, he would kill the man who'd dare put his hands on her. Without pause or conscious thought the ghost dissolved his form and shot into the unprotected sides of the ratted and glassy eyed man. The ghost throwing himself through him and tackling his soul with a punishing force. Strikingly blue, bloodshot eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jomi twisted himself into the man's muscles and raced through his nervous system. Filling his skull and the space behind his eyes before snapping the body back on trembling legs. The wickedly curved knife was dropped from his hand as the body lifted off Madeira and stumbled backwards, landing on his ass as Jomi tore his way through the drug addled man, flexing and twisting his muscles and limbs as the man spasmed on the damp cobble stones. His mouth gapped but no sound came as the ghost summoned all his strength to tightened his throat and arched his back, twisting him into unnatural shapes.

Once he was sure the mans muscles were sufficiently strained and broken, the exhausted ghost peeled himself off the foreign soul. Unwinding himself off the muscle fibres and lifting off his skin, the ghost gathered himself, his mists thin and scattered and made his way back to Madeira. The ghost dropped himself into the wall behind his mistress, and used the last of his strength to activate his mists. His focus hard as the tendrils of mist pressed into her back as he strained himself to push Madeira and her swollen belly to her feet, a deep cutting pain laced through his mists as he pushed his mists past their limits.

"You're alright, I got you."


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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 14th, 2018, 3:15 am

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"You're alright, I got you."

Shaken and breathing heavy, Madeira was grateful to be helped to her feet. The aftershock of adrenaline was sparkling through her skin, and she felt both ten feet tall and paper thin. She beat down the skirt of her dress and spit a mouthful of blood at her feet. Besides the cuts to her mouth she was unharmed.

The stone man wasn't as lucky. Contorted past his body's endurance, he was struggling to stand in the flagstone courtyard. Yellowed eyes blown and wild, he was hyperventilating through the shock of what might have been his first possession.

Madeira kept her voice steady, letting the panic go with a breath and a steadying fist curled in the ghost's shroud. "Thank you, Jomi", she said simply, but the vivid look in her eye, framed by drying tears and rage, sang her gratitude. Nothing had ever outlined her need for him more than that moment. On her own she was just an ambitious girl with
a pretty tongue, and that wasn't enough. When words fail and cleverness can't keep the violence from bubbling to the surface, she was nothing but a useless little girl. But with Jomi, with Allister… with Ssanya and Hurik and Dex and everyone else she was forced to leave behind she had control, and there were consequences to touching her. In the centre of her web, built around people stronger than herself, she was something to fear.

And she wanted it back.

Jomi was a weak flicker, having exhausted himself incapacitating her attacker. From a pocket in her skirt Madeira pulled out her flask and offered it to the spirit. In the centre of the courtyard the stone man had finally found his feet, levered up by leaning on the scummy fountain. There was a metallic scrape as he brought his beautiful sword with him, but by the quake in his fingers and the fearful way his eyes were following the ghost, she considered it more likely he would run for the exit than attack them again.

"Jomi", she tucked her flask back into her skirt and wiped a dribble of blood off her cheek. "Bring him to me."
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This You Protect

Postby Jomi on September 16th, 2018, 11:35 pm

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"



"Thank you, Jomi"

Beneath the delicate trembling of Madeira's pale hands the ghost's shroud seemed to swell. The ghost was exhausted and in danger of disappearing, but the weak flickering mist still pulled together in an effort to appear taller. A physical representation of the way the words lifted through him as he hummed in satisfaction.

To be needed was a Kelvic's greatest joy. Nothing could replace the warmth of gratitude, the satisfaction of a job well done, or to have someone to depend on and to miss you when you're gone. As the seasons stretched on Jomi's inhibitions lowered around Madeira. Where once he had repressed his desire to serve her out of loyalty to his severed bond, instead replacing that desire with anger and abrasion, now he had allowed himself to feel the comfort of her leadership. As time wore on the memory of his bond began to fade, slowly Madeira was taking over the part of him Jomi had once reserved exclusively for his former bonded.

The stone faced man pulled himself up on to the stilled fountain, accompanied by a chorus of grunts and whimpers he tired desperately to stifle. The muscles in his back, legs and arms having been sprained by the overzealous ghost made for slow progress as the man took small staggered steps over the uneven cobbles. Jomi eyed him cooly as he held the wickedly curved, bloodstained knife out at the pair with shaking hands.

"Jomi."

The ghost craned his head back to regard his mistress, from the folds of her skirt she produced a flask of mists that Jomi consumed greedily. Passing his hand through the side of the container the ghost absorbed the master-made mist, a deep contented sigh rippled out from his form as his own mists grew in size and density. Filling out his form and adding sharpness to his features as his mind revelled in the drug-like bliss the mists produced.

The spirit pulled the invigorated mists towards his core, bringing an even greater degree of detail to his body as he studied the tiny blonde woman. Deep in her eyes he saw an unmistakable fire that burned through the mask of indifference, but this fire burned cold.

"Bring him to me."

The mans face crumbled as his efforts to stumble out of the courtyard doubled, tears carved a path through the grime on his face and collected in the trenches of his skin as he pushed past the pain of his sprained muscles. His whimpers grew in intensity as Jomi's face split into a wicked scythe grin.

"Yes, Mistress."

Jomi rushed the man as he stumbled in his haste, falling on his back as he swung the knife wildly at the approaching ghost, but the curved blade passed through the mists as if it were air. The possession was faster this time, Jomi now somewhat familiar with his hosts body and soul. The mans exhausted, drug addled mind put up only the most basic of defences for the ghost to fight past as he wound through his muscles and tissue. The body stilled for a moment, lying back on the cobbles as the collecting rainwater soaked through the ratty mud stained coat before Jomi rolled their shared body over and pushed them to their hands and knees, forcing the man to crawl. Their movements were smooth and long as they made their way back to his mistress, the ghost being unable to feel the slicing pain that bloomed from the mans joints or the way the small stones pricked his hands.

Once they were close enough, Jomi lifted their shoulders and sat back on their knees as their hands hung loosely at their side.


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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on September 18th, 2018, 10:00 pm

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The stone man crawled back to her, his face slack with an unsettling blankness that came from a ghost that couldn't care less about its facial expression. But she wondered what he was feeling in his soul. Regret, resignation, anger? Would Allister's animal nose be able to pick up the sour scent of fear in him? As he reached her he kneelt at her feet, sitting complacently back on his heels.

Though Jomi was freshly restored and no stranger to possession, Madeira realized she had only a handful of chimes before he was exhausted by the task and the stone man reasserted himself. And even within that limitation, if she were to inflict enough pain, or if Jomi tried to commit his suicide, his self preservation would be enough to break the possession. She couldn't kill him. She couldn't even wound him.

Not yet, anyway.

"I think you have something that belongs to me, don't you?" she smiled a gentle smile that didn't even get near her eyes as she rooted around in the pocket of his robes. Inside was the crow feather and her rings. She slid the moonstone and amber jewels back on her fingers and felt whole again, like a missing limb returning. "Oh, here we go. This will make you feel better. Come on, breath deep, there you go." She held the back of the drug-dusted feather to the hollow of his nose until she felt the stuttering wheeze of his sour breath. A drugged mind was always easier to control. She imagined Jomi working his claws in deeper and smiled.

Moving lower she unclipped the belt from around his waist, then moved behind him. Pulling his slack, unresisting arms behind his back she looped both his wrists with the leather, then pulled them as high as they would go. Wrapping both his upper arms with the rest of the leather she snaked the end through the clip and cinched it as tight as it would go, punching a new notch in the leather. She knew nothing about knots, and even less about restraints, but hopefully they would be long gone before he could work himself free.

"There we go. All settled. Comfy?" She pat him gently on the shoulder and quickly collected her discarded coins and glove, wrinkling her nose at the stains on the delicate lace. His sword, the very edge coated in a thin film of her coagulating blood, was flung far over the opposite wall and rattled as it hit cobblestone. "I can't stay long. But before I go I think you and I should have a little talk." She stood in front of him again. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. It'd be rude if you didn't look at me." she pulled back his greasy hair, tilting his head back until his eyes could lock with hers.

She pulled dijed from her soul a second time, condensing the power to her eyes. This was not how Hypnotism was meant to be used. The magic was a tool of manipulation and conditioning, its power worked best as an enhancement of the owners charisma. Using it to overpower someone was rather like trying to bludgeon someone with a china tea set. But Madeira persisted, using the searing cold of her eye contact to ferry an emotional response that was taking all her concentration to construct. Fear, her mind whispered to his, aiming for the one soul in his body who couldn't fight back. The artificial emotion licked at the back of his eyes, and she willed it to bury deeper, to settle in curdling blood, to sharpen itself on the claustrophobia of being trapped in the body he couldn't move.

"What a mistake you have made. You shouldn't have stopped me. Now look what you've done. Even the dead are after you. Do you feel him in there? Nobody truly realizes the sanctity of their own soul until its violated." She laid a hand gently across his throat, careful not to squeeze, carful not to cause his body to panic, but with a caress that wove a threat into every nerve ending. "And you can't cut him away, can't threaten him. He doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, and now he's yours. Oh, but that's not the worst part. No, what's worse is the monster I've sent after you. A tall, ghoulish thing, covered in ink and hungry for your blood. See, they come when I call, and I'm calling them after you."

His eyes were watering, unable to blink while Jomi had control. Her own eyes were starting to burn with the force she was putting behind her hypnotism. Their time was almost up.

"Don't follow me. If you do you will just meet him sooner. But lets make absolutely sure you're not going anywhere for a while. Sit up tall, there you go. Knees wider. Little wider. Good, right there."

Taking half a step back, she pulled the hem of her skirt over her ankle, wound back, and with all the precision and force that could be found in her skinny body, swung the toe of her boot hard into the fork of his legs.

The waning possession broke instantly, and he slammed back into control as his body reacted to the pain. The man's gut recoiled like she'd punched him in the stomach, and she jumped back just in time for him to vomit a stream of bile onto the cobble at his feet. Reeling from multiple possessions and hypnotism and fear and pain, he began to wail. Fat tear rolled from his eyes and saliva dribbled from his open mouth, his face scrunched up like he was blinded. From between his noise and his possession-fatigued tongue she could make out the words 'I'm sorry' repeated over and over like a mantra.

Madeira turned away, disgusted. A headache was blooming behind her eyes, a punishment for forcing her magic into shapes it wasn't suppose to take. She spit another mouthful of blood on the cobbles and walked to the arch, not looking behind her.

"Take me home, Jomi."
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This You Protect

Postby Jomi on September 27th, 2018, 7:34 pm

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Date 518 AV
"Speech"


The soulmist that saturated the unwilling body hummed and vibrated intensely, seeping deeper into the muscle fibres and soft delicate tissues. Jomi was not a powerful possessor, although with access to a possession trained spiritist he had grown exponentially, he still fought and struggled against his host. The mans body was a spiritual warzone as the ghost, newly invigorated with master soulmist, clawed at the hosts soul. Beating down and dominating his host while trying to spare enough of his concentration in order to manipulate and control the body.

When Madeira approached them the ghost eagerly forced the body to inhale sharply as the drug dusted feather was thrust under their nose. The sweet burn that radiated from the nasal cavity was lost on the spirit, the drugs effects, however, were much more noticeable.

The hosts body began to slouch, no longer fighting the ghost control and attempting to lockdown the body. Jomi could feel the mind that occupied the same space become invigorated and erratic, seemingly absorbing the energy that had been sequestered in order to fight for bodily control. Although the hosts souls power had been bolstered by his drug of choice, his precisian and focus had been compromised.

Jomi's mind flashed back to one of his last days alive, back when his old bones creaked when they moved and the blurriness that faraway objects were filtered through got closer every day. He had been unwittingly pulled into a bar brawl with someone twice his size, but the power behind his opponents fist didn't matter if his rum inebriated body were too slow to strike him.

Jomi used his newly deepened possession to force the body to do as instructed by the spiritist. Entwining his hosts arms and locking his fingers together as Madeira set about winding the mans belt around them, and widening his stance as she geared up for a punishing blow.

It was like an explosion, a spark that lite from inside the mans soul and spread outward like a physical force as the toe of Madeira's boot connected to the most sensitive of places. Jomi braced as the tide of self-preservation surged through the mans body, but there was nothing a spirit could do in the face of the survival instincts of the living. Jomi came sputtering back to view after being aggressively thrown from the mans body. The shock of being torn from the host left the spirit shaken as he carefully reconstructed himself. The exercise was almost therapeutic, rebuilding himself after sending so long being forced into an unfamiliar shape. Jomi starting from his head he condensed his mists and pulled them towards his core, sculpting the mists and adding definition and colour.

"Take me home, Jomi."

A command, not a suggestion. The finality that spilled from those words was like a balm to the ghosts soul, she was a proper leader, something Jomi's Kelvic instincts craved most. Someone stronger than himself, someone he could serve. The smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth was a wicked thing full of small, sharp teeth. They made a good team, he decided.

Jomi kneeled behind Madeira holding out his materialized hands and reaching within himself, Jomi called upon the latent energy residing in his core to activate the mists in his arms. Pulling at the ends of her cloak that had twisted up into itself in the scuffle before walking ahead and into the streets

"Yes, Mistress."

Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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Jomi
One more day would have been nice
 
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This You Protect

Postby Madeira Craven on October 14th, 2018, 12:09 am

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Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Meditation: 1xp
  • Logic: 2xp
  • Acting: 2xp
  • Hypnotism: 3xp
  • Subterfuge: 1xp
  • Negotiation: 2xp
  • Unarmed Combat: 2xp
  • Tactics: 2xp
  • Leadership: 2xp
  • Intimidation: 2xp

Lores

  • Lore of the side-streets of Zintia
  • Lore of the effects of Reimancy overgiving
  • Subterfuge: lying with slight of hand
  • Negotiation: reasoning with a mugger
  • Lore of the dangers of a power fantasy
  • Unarmed Combat: punching and scratching
  • Tactics: summoning backup
  • Madeira: useless on her own
  • Jomi: important to Madeira's power
  • Tactics: restraining threats
  • Hypnotism: instilling fear


Jomi

Skills
  • Materialization: 3xp
  • Possession: 3xp
  • Endurance: 3xp
  • Unarmed Combat: 1xp
  • Observation: 2xp
  • Soulmist Projection: 2xp

Lores
  • Lore of sensing panic in a summon
  • Madeira: mugged by a stone-faced man
  • Madeira: needs Jomi
  • Inebriated people make for easy possession
  • Possession: cannot overcome survival instinct of the host
  • Kelvics: crave a leader
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
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