Ocean Side Dining (solo training finished)

[Jeremiah DraDerex]

Winter 2nd 511AV Jeremiah sat near the edge of the island, right before the black sand beach. A cool fog had rolled in with the ocean mist and cooled the exposed skin of the fair skinned man who sat in slight meditation. It had been a while since Jeremiah and his ghostly brother had been dropped off at the mysterious black island with the intentions of further knowledge of the great powers of ones own body. Draven walked through over the sand, which indented slightly with each step, the cool ocean foam lapped at his translucent feet and soon retreated back into the black, ink like, pool of ocean. Jeremiah sat quietly as he began to thread one of the several hooks onto a chord made of his own hair. He had meticulously rubbed and knotted his own hair into a sort of thin, dreadlock which stretched a good length. He threads the fisherman hooks, thick and heavy, the hooks seemed more for large animals rather then the common fish. He ties one of the hook’s eyes to the end of the length of chord while also threaded the other end through the same hole. He ties off another hook and effectively made a loop of hooks which were adjustable. It depended on the size he needs to protect. The cool black stone had dips and lines from erosion, which was perfect for the sharp hook points to grip. Draven had began to move toward Jeremiah, “Draven, I need you to test my abilities today. We are going to play a little game of keep away. I’m going to create a barrier and you are going to try and break through it and attempt to possess me.” “That sounds fine by me brother, but remember, like Dira death will ultimately conquer you.” Draven chuckled lightly right before he seemed to glitch away and back toward the ocean. Jeremiah only grinned as he knew that it was only a matter of time before he’d die as well. Because of this fact, he always respected Dira’s wishes. If the plague reacheed him he’ll gladly sacrifice himself and not seek a healer. He lived his life in devotion to the knowledge that death has its purpose in the maintenance of balance to life in the world. Deaths should be celebrated and never feared. A deep growl rumbled from Jeremiah’s stomach, his body hungry for food, but kept empty in preparation of the fabrication of soulmist. He reached for some of the pouches he kept around his waist, the pouches attached to the belt that held up his loincloth. He set three pouches out in front of him. One was heavy with flour the other had two eggs within. He then reached for his waterskin, which was filled with salt water from the ocean. He knew that most used cheese to flavor the dough necessary to create soulmist, but knew that flavor wouldn’t always be available. The last pouch was one of the larger pouches, but was empty at that time. He reached into the flour pouch and brought out a handful of the powdered grain before he placed it onto a smooth leather mat. He brought out two eggs and cracked them open over the mound of flour. He began to integrate the egg and flour together into a loose dough, but it required more time to mix. Jeremiah purposely did this as he brought the loop of hooks he had just made into his lap. He took two of the hooks, one in each hand and brought the metal, curved shafts to his mouth. He used his spit to clean and lubricate them before he brought one of the points to his forearm, just below his elbow. He began to press the point into his skin while he breathed deeply and focused to attempt and control the pain. Blood began to pool as the hooks point began to penetrate the skin. His hand drove the metal hook deeper and pierced only the skin and bit of fat at the surface of his muscles. The blood flowed down his arm and dripped onto the dough. Soon the point of the hook pushed at the back of his skin and made it bow outward. With a grunt and a firm push, his skin gave way to the point and spread open. The hook completely pierced the inside of his left forearm. The blood continued to drip down into the dough, but it soon slowed as his body began to heal itself and coagulate around the wound. He brought his left hand up and began to hook his right forearm with the sharp, metal, fishing hook, which added more blood to the dough. He continued to pierce all seven hooks down along his forearms, the chord laced between them, four on the right, three on the left. Each wound had begun to bleed and mix with the off white dough. He brought his hands down and began to combine the mixture into a rusty red colored dough. The muscles in his arms twitched every now and then whenever he moved his arms to far apart. When he did, the tug on the hooks, pulled at his skin. His endorphins had begun to pump but did little to help the pain. But he needed that severe pain in order to focus on what he needed to do. Both arms moved in sync as they tore of a chunk of the sizable ball of dough. He brought it to his mouth and began to feast on the irony, salty, and dry mixture. It took much concentration to get it down, if he was not hungry he would of found it even harder. Soon the ball of dough diminished and soon vanished into his stomach. Jeremiah looked around the beach in search for Draven, who had stopped near by and struck up a conversation with another ghost. That was fine by him, perhaps Draven could petition the other ghost to come and attempt to break through the barrier once built. Satisfied he was safe he closed his eyes and began to open his mind’s eye. He could feel the wind on his bare skin, as it cooled the metal hooked into his flesh. He visualized harder and harder as he slipped into a sort of trance. The vague image of his arms and his gut, full of the dough, began to manifest in the darkness. His eye had slowly opened and began to focus on the imagery. It took him a long while until he could see the parts of his body that he focused on clearly. He could almost see his own djed, or at least imagined he could, as it flowed through his body. He gave a quick tug with his arms and pulled on the hooks a bit. The sharp pain shot through his limbs and into his brain. He imagined with each sharp spike of pain, his own djed pierced and transferred into the dough within his body. Another short tug and another spike of pain added more to the dough within his stomach. His breath had hastened as he focused on the pain and his djed to infuse with the dough. Draven noticed Jeremiah had begun the ritual that disturbed most and floated over to him. Another ghost, a young man, followed and continued to keep Draven company while Jeremiah continued with his strange craft and ritual of self sacrifice. Soon Jeremiah lurched forward, his stomach could be seen as it began to attempt to force it’s contents out. Jeremiah’s eyes opened and he reached for the larger pouch. He quickly brought the pouch’s open top to his lips before his body bowed and lurched again. The pouch could be seen as it grew heavier with the man’s regurgitated. A brief pause to take in breath, before another lurch and groan exited his body. Jeremiah paused and breathed calmly for a moment as he kept the pouch over his mouth. Soon he brought the pouch away from his mouth while his tongue busily collected the strange fluid from the inside of his mouth. He spat into the pouch, the liquid had a slight glow to it, and wiped his mouth clean of whatever might have been still on his mouth. It was a real unpleasant ritual to create soulmist, but it had to be done and knew that it was part of the way of a spiritist. He read about the process to manufacture soulmist back in Zeltiva and was one of the first things he learned to make. The hooks and blood-letting came later in his life. He had always found that through pain, he could focus and solve problems much quicker. He had expanded on his discovery and soon created his ritual of self sacrifice, meditation, and craft. True, Jeremiah’s intentions as a spiritist was to never harm a ghost but instead attempt to help them through their afterlife and eventually to reincarnation. Jeremiah could sense the tendrils of Draven’s soul mist, lick across his back. Jeremiah grinned and held the bag up for Draven to see. He could feel Draven open the top of the pouch and peer inside of it. The mixture glowed within, ready to be used in the little bit of training. “Who is your friend Draven?” Jeremiah grunted the question through clenched teeth as he unhooked one of the seven hooks from his arm. “Her name is--” “Molawny at your service!” Jeremiah nodded as the girl drifted into his line of sight. Draven chuckled, the young lady was very pushy but was interested in why Draven followed around his brother. “Draven says you two are brothers and followers of Dira.” Molawny floated downward and laid out on the rocks. Jeremiah continued to remove the hooks one by one until his arms were free to move around. He reached to a small pack that was by his side and grabbed a roll of bandage. He then continued to dress the wounds, “That is correct. Draven and I are twins and both of us are bound to each other. To many things in the world that are out of our control, we like to know that we at least have a small amount of say over our lives and each other. We are mutually bonded by a promise.” “Wow mister, I suppose I’m in the same boat as you. I’m waiting for the rest of my family to die so I can spit in their faces. But I’d never spit on your lovely face.” Her tone turned to animosity, and then to flirtatious. Jeremiah turned his attention to Draven, a look of confusion in his eyes. Draven shrugged, “That is how I felt as well brother.” Draven chuckled. Jeremiah studied the young girl a bit closer. He could sense her aurora was hostile, but under the hostility there was hurt. He however felt all of that hidden behind a generally happy, lustful. Jeremiah sat back and rested for a moment he set the pouch of newly created soul mist on the ground beside the bloodied hooks. “Well Molawny, “Jeremiah broke his silence and trance like state as he looked at Molawny entirely, “Whatever reason that has brought on such hatred toward your family, is none of my business. Would you like to assist Draven and I in a training?” Molawny studied Jeremiah as well. Unlike his brother, Jeremiah seemed more critical, kind, and a genuinely nice person. Usually when someone would stare at her, she would go nuts. She couldn’t bare the idea of someone judge her. But, she never felt that way while she spoke with Jeremiah or Draven. “I’d be honored too.” She finally spoke up and drifted to a vertical position. Jeremiah nodded and stood up from his spot. His skin displayed the indentation of stone on his exposed skin, perhaps Jeremiah had a higher tolerance to pain then others. He tied the bag of flour and egg to his belt as well as the bag full of soul mist. He picked up his makeshift soul beads and brought them with him. “I’m glad you feel like helping me Molawny,” Jeremiah stopped once his feet had reached the softer black sand of the shore. He spread open the circle of hooks and made a large area, large enough for him to stand with both arms out to his side, and be protected. “I haven’t done this before, only read about it back at home. I don’t even know if it will work.” Jeremiah went to each of the seven points in the circle and rubbed a bit of the soulmist onto each of the hooks. Once he had finished, he stood in the center and double checked to see if everything had been set up correctly. “Well everything seems to be in order, Molawny why don’t you have a go at breaking my barrier and possessing me.” “Sure thing,” Draven watched as Molawny glitched out of sight for a moment. Jeremiah, barely had time to register what had happened before Molawny was at the edge of the circle. A look of struggle on her face as she finally pushed her way through the weak and ineffective barrier. Jeremiah didn’t have a look of shock, but instead he had a stern focused look. He felt the tendril’s of Molawny’s soul mist brush coldly against his skin before pressed into his own body. He fought her and made her struggle as she attempted to possess him fully. His muscles flexed and tensed up as he struggled to keep control of his own body. Molawny wasn’t able to fully enter into Jeremiah’s body, however she did have control over his right arm. It was a struggle as the cold limb began to move forward and back as Jeremiah struggled for control. “Haha, don’t let her control your arm brother! She is only a young lady!” Jeremiah snickered a bit and still fought against Molawny. He could feel her begin to draw his hand toward the buckle that held his loin cloth up. “Come on Jerry, give in,” she giggled as well as the hand inched closer. Jeremiah began to attempt to throw her from his body and could tell she had become tired. But the sound of Draven as he chuckled gayly broke his conentration enough to allow Molawny to undo his belt and allow the cloth to fall free. Molawny panted as Jeremiah was finally able to throw her out of his body. He panted and breathed hard as Molawny checked Jermiah out fully. His entire body, scarred, toned and entirely on display for whoever might be around. Molawny chuckled between heavy pants, “I bet the girls just love you!” Draven laughed hysterically as Jeremiah cracked a grin and played off his nakedness. “Yep, girls love the guys that love their body.” Jeremiah didn’t bother to cover himself up, something more important had come up. Jeremiah knew he could have thrown the spirit out of his body whenever he wanted. It wasn’t a strong ghost by any means. However, while he began to be possessed, a memory from Molawny’s past had transferred to him. The vague image of a family that cried, as a young girl was ripped away from their hands then blackness. It bothered Jeremiah and he knew he wanted to help the ghost. “Molawny, since you seem to fancy me, would you like to come back to my home? I’d be honored to have a guest, we don’t get many.”

[Rage]

GRANTING OF XP Jeremiah Meditation - 3xp Spiritism - 3xp Auristics - 1xp Medicide/First Aid - 1xp Seduction - 1xp Lores: Focusing through Pain Self-mutilation Soulmist Creation of Soulmist Contact: Molawny Creation of Ghostbeads Thread Consequences: (OOC info - take note in future RP) - Due to the nature of his wounds, his inadequate skill in Medicine and his failure to clean the breaks on the skin before dressing them, Jeremiah's wounds would take a longer time to heal than usual and the scars will remain on his arms. - Jeremiah can block out the pain of shallow wounds while focusing during meditation or while in the throes of casting magic. Notes : An interesting read, especially the part about using pain to focus during meditation. A few notes though: I think you overplayed your Spiritism skill with the creation of the Ghostbeads as well as the part where you glimpsed memories of the Molawny. Those abilities should only be available, or at least you'll only be successful in using them, at Competent level. Also, in the second paragraph, you switched from past tense to present tense then back again. You may also want to divide one massive post into a couple of smaller posts to help in story transition as well as to make reading easier. Otherwise, not a bad thread.