Closed To Enter Destruction's Aftermath (Brandon)

[Levi Remilian]

It seemed that there was a place that Djas had in mind thankfully; the day was not going to end without result. There was a spirit that he knew of it appeared, one that Levi could assist in handling. Levi nodded and followed after him, albeit without the same swift grace of slipping through the crowd Djas had instead barely keeping him in his sight as he slowly made his way through the crowd. The other man definitely knew his way through the city, especially evident since the roads he took seemed to be more of the smaller variety, the kind which were less populated. Back alleys, Levi told himself, like those thieves sneak through. Was Djas a thief? That same thought once more made itself present on the spiritist's mind as he trailed behind him. It seemed ridiculous, why would Dira choose a thief of all people to mark? It was definitely not the case here Levi reminded himself. Levi caught up to Djas as the latter slowed down for him, listening intently to him as he talked. The spiritist nodded, "I see, you really are new to all of this." He barely kept up with him as they slipped into more complex alleyways. "It is good that you met me then. You can learn more of spiritism and ghosts while I can learn more of your mark." By the look on Djas' face, Levi could spot the hint of well concealed fear. The ghost must be a powerful one indeed, he only hoped that he had enough in reparation for what the two may encounter. "A powerful spirit... it may be easier to handle this time with your mark's power and my spiritism. We can only see." At least Levi hoped so. The next answer from Djas was the one that piqued Levi's interest the most, brows furrowed in thought at the man's surprisingly uncertain answer. The spiritist raised an eyebrow, puzzled himself, but nonetheless he nodded in a sign of understanding. "We all have a purpose in our current lives, something about yours drew the Goddess's attention. Perhaps it was your beliefs about death or your actions. Whatever it may be, there most definitely is a reason. Dira is not a fickle deity." The young man most certainly caught the emotion shining in Djas' eyes, a kind of determination and resolve he wished to see in himself. There most certainly was a reason why a man who knew little of Dira and the undead was marked while Levi, a man who grew up on Black Rock and was raised under the teaching of Dira was not marked. Dira had a sharp eye into that the mortal mind and she knew, of it was definite that she knew of Levi's own quivering faith, the doubt that shook him that found their source in Naya's death. The two stopped in an alleyway and with Djas now inquiring about what Levi was going to do, the spiritist felt now was a good time to show him the basics of spiritism in preparation. "Indeed, it is time I told you what is to be done." He opened his belt pouch, taking out a jar filled with a dough and piece of cheese. His gloves were taken off and Levi continued, "The most fundamental element of Spiritism is soulmist. Soulmist is the material that ghosts are made of, the stagnant remnant of their soul's djed. The most basic but most important thing spiritists can do is create our own soulmist. It is the foundation of our discipline." Levi put the jar lid back in the pouch and passed the jar to Djas, taking out a second jar and opening it. "You will need three different ingredients of three different sources. The most common recipe is flour, egg, and cheese. I have already mixed the egg and flour here. There are variations that others have found. Added to this you will need some blood, either your own or from another animal or person. I prefer my own. Now take the three ingredients and blood and consume it. Either keep chewing or swallow it while focusing on the ingredients, perhaps the easiest way to describe it is picturing what a ghost is like. Watch." The jar now open, Levi took a piece of cheese and placed it in his mouth, biting it to allow the sharp tangy flavour of the cheese to spread across his tongue in preparation for the less pleasant ingredients. He scooped out the egg-flour dough and put it in next. The three normal ingredients, the spiritist took out a throwing dagger from his belt bandolier. He extend his index finger and without a sign of hesitation made a swift cut on the top section. Red blood began oozing from the cut finger which Levi quickly held up to his mouth, the blood dripping in to join the other ingredients. After a few ticks the dripping began to slow at which point he closed his mouth and began chewing the squelching mix. No matter how many times the spiritist did this, it would never be pleasant. Sure, he could ignore the coppery flavour of his blood mingled with the slippery cold of egg mixed with flour and sure he could keep a straight face like he was eating a simple breakfast, but he did often wonder how the first spiritist even figured out such a strange method. After a while Levi swallowed the vile dough, exhaling through his nose heavily as the soon to be soulmist trailed down his throat roughly. He closed his eyes, focusing on the mass that had found its way to his stomach. He breathed slowly and calmly, inhale and exhale as though he was meditating. He envisioned the cold and dead, the white misty substance that the ethereal were made up. Again, breathe in, breathe out. He didn't care if Djas thought it was strange; this was the basis from which spiritism found its foundation. Think cold thoughts, thoughts of wandering without rest, cold and detached from the world, that gut feeling you feel when you experience fear of the unknown. It started as a small chill within, a small unnatural cold that slowly grew greater in intensity. A freezing presence within like the touch of a ghost had gripped his stomach. Levi opened his eyes and brought up the empty jar. He carefully breathed out, except instead of air out flowed an off-white and glowing mist which slowly made its way out of Levi, collecting into the jar until it was three quarters full. The last wisp of soulmist left Levi and the spiritist sat down, sighing in relief. He took out what looked like nine heavy metal beads strung together and set them before himself next to the jar of soulmist. Finally he looked up at Djas. "This is how soulmist is made. You can then either give it to a ghost with permission and strengthen it. No, strengthen may be an incomplete description. It will give pleasure to that ghost if your soulmist is good. It is the only pleasure that they can ever experience with their ethereal body, a sad thing if you think about it. The method to make it is simple as you saw, however if you were to do the same as I did now the resulting soulmist would be hardly pleasing to any ghost. It is a way of persuasion and assuaging, but it must be used carefully. Some spirits may take advantage of what is given. Thus negotiating is key. With enough skill you can also apply your soulmist to items and weapons, allowing those weapons to harm the ghost even if they are not materialized. There are other utilities such as creating wards against ghost with these beads down here and soulmist." He scooped soulmist from the jar and began rubbing it into the beads, the soulmist seemingly melting into each bead until the ghostly material was no longer visible. There was still half a jar left which he handed it to Djas. "If you have any weapons you can apply this to it. The effect will last for several days at best. Speaking of the ghost, could you tell me more about them? Personality, behaviour, strength, history. All of those are important for us to consider when we try persuading them to pass on. Preferably I want to settle this peacefully by talking, but worst case scenario we will have the soulbeads and weapons prepared, though I do sincerely wish we don't have to resort to that." He looked weary for a moment, as though remembering similar events. However he shook it off quickly, "Also I would like the other jar please, I need to prepare the rest. You could create your own soulmist another time if you wish to learn more?"

[Brandon Blackwing]

Brandon would have been lying if he claimed he wasn’t surprised that the “preparations” the spiritist was about to make involved cheese –and a rather strong smelling one too- and dough. Perhaps the man just wanted to eat before they headed in, for some reason, or maybe it was just some sort of ritual. Either way, he found the man’s words far more interesting, even though he had to concentrate to actually make sense of it. Well, basically just accepting whatever he told him without much thinking about it, but connecting and linking parts of the explanation to concepts he’d already been told once.

Djed, for example. As far as the bat could remember, souls were made out of the stuff… but it wasn’t actually a thing. More like an idea that made things exist. Complicated, and it went over his head, but still. Accept and move on. For some reason, a person’s soul remained in the world of the living, becoming a ghost. However, it seemed that the ghost wasn’t made out of djed, but something else; soulmist. There was no explanation on why or how that occurred, and Brandon was quite glad for it, he wouldn’t have understood anyway. What was more confusing though, was that spiritists could make their own soulmist, which, so the ghost-hunter explained, could be created with ordinary food. Dough, cheese, blood… it sounded like the Symenestra recipe for Bruka or something along those lines.

It was quite entertaining to see the man suckle up the crimson seeping from his finger, and then chew the broth, though soon enough the bat grew bored of it, and focused on playing with a pebble instead. Eventually though, the spiritist swallowed everything, the simple actions following it betraying the taste of the blend of ingredients, and the bat was happy he wasn’t the one who was going through it. The effects of consuming the goo became obvious soon enough, Levi vomiting up some sort of different slime-like mist which he collected in a jar. So this was the soulmist? It did look different than that of a ghost… though it also didn’t. It did remind the Kelvic of Levi’s sister when her form had dissipated.

A whole list of uses followed, and then the man began rubbing it in some strange beads, his movements practiced and immaculate. Then the jar was passed to the bat, and the thief hesitated for a moment or two, wondering just what he’d coat with the goo. Abaserozt, for one, that was only natural, and the name of the dagger seemed fitting for the occasion. Brandon scooped up a little of the mist, rubbing it carefully on the blade, spreading it thin and as even as he could, not quite sure if it’d make a difference. Once done with the weapon he hid it back in his bandolier under his coat, for good measure he decided to apply some to another dagger as well, just in case he’d lose one of them.

The question of what to coat next was pondered over briefly, but the decision was made swiftly; there was cold iron in his gloves, so those didn’t need the soulmist. His legs however, were without that luxury, so those did need a little help. He wouldn’t coat all of them of course, just the parts he used to attack with; the lower half of his shins, his heels, and the backs of his feet. Once that was done, there still was some soulmist left, and he handed it back to the spiritist, along with the jar. While Levi made the rest of his preparations, Brandon agreed on giving him some more information. Not that he had a lot of it. “I don’t know very much about her. But her touch hurts. She can make a lot of objects in a room fly simultaneously. And… she looks very, very un-ghostly. I mean, if you don’t pay enough attention she appears to be just as … corporal as you and me.”

He sighed, it hurt his pride to think back, to recall that day. “I don’t know anything about her personality or history, but I do know that she seems to have a temper. And she gets really, really angry quickly.” He doubted that was helpful though. “That’s all I know. ” Not much, but something was better than nothing, right? While persuasion might not have been a method Brandon had faith in, he did believe his companion knew what he was doing, or about to do. It did set him a little more at ease.

And then all preparations had been made, Brandon led them through the next couple streets, arriving at a small house that looked both old and shabby. The windows were barred from the inside, but if memory served, the front door was not. It might be locked though. He tried the knob, heart starting to accelerate its rhythm, and was astonished to find the door just swung open. Well, perhaps he shouldn’t have been; it was not like the house looked inviting anyway. There was a moment of hesitation as Brandon swallowed a lump forming in his throat, but he stepped inside nevertheless, his breathing speeding up upon seeing the familiar décor.

Everything was back in place, no visible traces of a fight, nor a ghost. It was just an old house, dusty, moldy, creaky. The air was stale inside, and it was just as cold as outside. However, over the old-smelling air, there was the scent of mist, of death. She was here, and she was watching, Brandon could feel her eyes on him, and adrenaline slipped into his bloodstream. Behind them the door slammed shut. The kelvic released a shaky breath, not even bothering to try the knob; it’d be immovable, of that he was certain. Yet, she did not show herself, the fury keeping herself hidden for now, still allowing the duo to go wherever they wanted, with the exception of outside. They were in trouble. They were intruders. They’d dropped in uninvited. This was a bad idea. They should leave right now.

However, there was a problem. She wouldn’t let them. Not until she decided they could.

Brandon walked around in the room they’d found themselves in –the living room, judging from the furniture- for a couple moments, eyeing everything warily. There was a stool that had almost smacked him in the head last time, there were lots of jars and vases, and -what worried him the most- drawers upon drawers filled with cutlery. Forks, spoons, knives… Big knives, small knives, steak knives, butter knives… Lots and lots of knives. This was not looking good at all. And yet, nothing seemed to happen. Nothing except the occasion feeling that someone was watching over their shoulder, standing right behind them. Sometimes it was as if a cold hand was placed somewhere on their body, the feeling lasting only for a fraction of a tick, always felt, but never seen. It was obvious that she was there, that she was present, that she was watching. But nothing happened, as if she was waiting for something. As if she was perhaps just trying some things out, experimenting.

Thinking, calculating.

[Levi Remilian]

The process began again for Levi. Cheese in the mouth, followed by the dough, and once again a slit on the same index finger. Red trickled into the mix inside Levi's mouth, although this time around he took out some fabric from his pouch and wrapped it around the small self-inflicted wound. Once more the gooey mix was chewed, albeit this time Levi kept his eyes opened. He wondered what the man thought of the method. Probably a mixture of surprise and a little disgust in particular with the ingredients involved. That was the spiritist's own reaction when he was first taught by his mother, sceptical that a crude procedure resulted in ethereal substance. It was a strange law of the world that such an action created soulmist, dead djed. The reason behind it was one Levi felt no mortal could ever uncover for a long time. Even as Levi concenrated on the glob that he chewed and then swallowed, he listened with particular focus on Djas' description of the ghost. He closed his eyes as the description ended, breathing with careful control as the gut feeling of the bitterly cold spectral essence intensified. It sounded like this ghost was one of substantial power and it was of a level that Levi had not encountered before if Djas' account of its abilities was not mistaken. He took the other jar and with a heavy sigh soulmist floated its way out of Levi's mouth into the jar. From his expression it was easy to spot his worry as he unsheathed his longsword and applied the vaporous substance along its length while taking care to not use too much, repeating the process with his two throwing daggers. The soulmist's off-white melted away into the blades of the weapons, and Levi silently prayed that he would not have to use them today. Once done that the spiritist sheathed his weapons and closed the still half full jar along with the one he passed to Djas. He stood up, arms crossed as he considered what Djas said further, openly saying his thoughts. "From what you are saying, this spirit has a great amount of power. It probably could be the strongest ghost I will have ever encountered yet if its materialization ability allows such an extent of form and touch, not to mention that level of control in the manipulation of physical objects. Powerful indeed. With so little information on her past, this will prove difficult. We must try talking first, we cannot resort to violence unless this turns to the worse." Levi tried his best to sound calm and smiled confidently at Djas, but there was an unmistakable quiver of concern in his voice that slipped out at the end of his sentence. Information on the ghost was the most important tool that a spiritist carries next to their soulmist. It is by their personality and history that a spiritist could determine their reason for remaining on Mizahar and not continuing to their next life. It was crucial to find out that reason if persuasion was to even be an option. Soulmist alone could never be enough. In fact it would be foolish to think that one encounter such as the one the two were about to embark on would be enough to bring the spirit to peace. If she was as quick tempered as Djas described her, that only made the situation more difficult. Now ready, Levi followed Djas and after a few blocks of walking came upon a small abandoned and decrepit house that was evidently their target. Not the most welcoming of places, but if he were to find a restless spirit, this house stood out starkly for the young spiritist. With a loud slam the door Djas tried opening moved and opened on its own; Levi flinched slightly at the sudden movement. It was a ill-boding sign, Levi knew that for certain. He could see Djas tense up as both of them slowly crossed the threshold. It was not the other man's first time encountering this particular spirit, and if it was enough to make the Dira-marked on edge, Levi went on the alert as his own heart beat pounded quicker and louder in his ears. The house looked like what one would expect from an old and musty house, though the lingering scent of soulmist immediately was sensed by Levi. The illusion of quiet quickly shattered. Slam went the door behind them. The bitter cold of the spectre was ever more pointedly felt by Levi as his senses tingled with a jolt of alertness. The spiritist could feel it; the spirit knew that the two had entered her abode. He knew that Djas could sense it too, the atmosphere of danger that permeated the place. There was no turning back now, the two have already crossed that threshold. A shaky breath was heard from Djas towards whom Levi turned, unwavering determination evident in his eyes. While Djas walked around the living room to inspect it, the spiritist's eyes darted around to take in all the details of the area. Furniture. Jars. Vases. Drawers... Levi noticed that Djas seemed to look particularly worried when he checked the drawers. There must be utensils inside them he guessed correctly, sharp ones such as knives by the expression Djas had. All of these were liable to be used against the two followers of Dira if the spirit was angered. The area was almost like a trap, but for now it would be wise to remain there. Who knew what the ghost may do if the duo attempted to move to a different room? All the while the ever present feeling of being observed haunted Levi. From his belt pouch he took out the set of nine soulbeads out of his pouch and set it on the ground, spreading out into a large circle with a diameter of almost three metres. The spiritist walked up to Djas and broke the eerie silence with a whisper. "If the situation becomes dangerous, get inside the circle." There was no need to explain what the circle was; he had already done that. The spiritist stood near the ghostbeads and looked around the room, his breathing even and calm as it could possibly be. The key in this situation would be to come off as non-threatening, to prove to the ghost that they were not here to fight. However, he was unsure of what experience Djas had with the ghost in their previous encounter and it was certain the result of that meeting would definitely influence this one. The ghost was waiting, Levi knew that. Waiting for what was the uncertainty. For now the ghost was fine with simply leaving them be, but that could shift any moment. The spiritist knew what he had to do. They had to make the first attempt at communication. Blood rushed and pounded with each pulse of the heart, its drumming getting louder and louder in his ears. Levi spoke gently, with a kind and soft voice. "Hello, we mean you no harm. I simply want to talk with you." Now they could only wait for the spirit's answer as purest silence hanged heavily upon them. Were they prepared for this encounter? Levi desperately hoped so.

[Brandon Blackwing]

Levi's voice rang through the eerie quiet room, his words seeming to fall on deaf ears, at least for a couple moments. When the last of his echoes faded away, she manifested herself, materializing in the space between the bat and his companion, tossing the former into the air without as much as glancing in his direction. Her dress was a pure innocent white, contrasting with the black of her hair, and the fierceness of her expression. Both her dress and hair moved as if played with by a gentle breeze, though the smell of, and the lack of motion felt from the stagnant air inside contradicted the visuals.

She stared at the spiritist, her voice softly replying to his attempt to lure her out before, however the repeated phrases only grew louder and louder, more and more anger seeping in. “So, you want to talk with me? You want to talk with me? You want to talk with me?! YOU WANT TO TALK WITH ME?” With each repetition the fluttering of her hair and dress became more chaotic and wild, as if she was standing in a storm. “You think I'm stupid?” She hissed in Levi's ear, having suddenly appeared there.

In the meantime Brandon tumbled through the air, the force of the hit strong enough to have sent him sailing towards the ceiling, just not powerful enough to let him touch it. On the way down he recovered, the realization of what was happening dawning on him, and he twisted in mid-air, shifting his position to land on his feet, much like a cat. Unlike a feline creature though, the bat's feet touching down were only two, not enough to keep himself upright while fighting the momentum. Instead he let himself roll backwards, hitting the wall in the process. Nevertheless, he wasn't hurt, for the exception of the area on his stomach where he'd been hit, which felt as if a log had been slammed into it with the motion of a whip. Even the instinctual tensing of his abs hadn't softened the impact much.

“I noticed your beads. I saw your sword. Hidden under your cloak. I can smell the soulmist on you two.” She snorted, keeping her focus solely on Levi even as Brandon smacked into the edge of the chamber and shakily got to his feet. “Talking with me, he says. I say spiritists. Trespassers. You are trying to drive me out of my home!” Her form slowly ascended, floating higher and higher until her hair almost seemed to reach out to the ceiling. And the she vanished, reappearing before Levi, one hand raising up, the spiritist's body following her motion, from the looks of it her invisible grip around his throat. His feet would leave the ground, only maybe the tips of his toes managing to retain the contact.

Brandon was well aware of the threat, he was aware that his companion was in a tight spot. While he didn't doubt that the spiritist knew of ways to free himself, he did think it wise to at least try and distract the fury. He dashed towards her, drawing Abaserozt, though he didn't get far. Much in the same way as Levi, he too was lifted off the floor, his throat stuck in some sort of vice grip. He couldn't breathe, his neck hurt and he couldn't touch the ground. This was bad. “So what are you two supposed to be? Dira's jackals? One black, one white?”

A humorless laugh escaped her. The tone of voice used did not sit well with Brandon though, for there was a clear disrespect for the Queen of the Dead. He ceased his struggling, going against his instincts. Ordinary means did not work on her. Well then, he just had to use his soulmist infused weapons, no? One hand reached under his cloak, drawing Abaserozt, and in a clean cutting motion he sliced the air in front of his throat, feeling something loosen, then his feet once more landing on the floor.

One of his knees buckled, and he gasped for breath, rubbing his throat, almost throwing up. A glance to the side revealed that Levi too had been released, whether it was from the ghost's shock or because of him having taken action as well was unknown. The apparition had distanced herself from the two of them for the moment, seemingly trembling, her face showing disbelief and pain. The scream that'd torn itself out of her ethereal throat hadn't escaped the bat either. At least the soulmist seemed to work. He got up then, eyes flitting between the ghost and Levi, trying to catch the spiritist's gaze, hoping he could signal without words or gestures -with the movement of his dark orbs alone- they should run to the circle of beads. However, he was hesitant to turn his back on the sprite, who seemed to be growing even more furious now. Slowly but steadily the bat retreated to the circle, his stare not leaving the ghost's form for even a moment.

However, as soon as the specter appeared to have returned her conscious and focus back from her inner world of pain to the two living in her house though, he made a break for it, turning around as fast as he could, desperately sprinting to the promised safe zone of beads. He barely made it, the wraith following in his wake in blinking fashion, traveling small distances at a time, but doing so extremely quickly. Her misty body appeared to be bumping into a wall, wisps of her soulmist flowing around the barrier, the expression she bore not promising much good.

[Levi Remilian]

It was hard for Levi to admit that he had bit far more than he could chew and swallow; he had a small sense of pride in regards to his line of work. However, the moment Djas was tossed aside with such ease and the ghost girl began approaching closer and closer, her repeated phrase getting ever louder and hysterical, the spiritist knew without a doubt that they were in dire trouble. All he could do was match the girl's own malevolent glare with his own attempt at a cold and calm stare. Even after he heard Djas's crash to the ground, Levi maintained his focus on the ghost. Before any attempt at persuasion could even begin, the situation had already made great headway of veering towards the worse. His words were distrusted by the ghost; it appeared this was not the first time she had encountered a spiritist. He had to remain composed, a slip of any kind will spell further disaster for Djas and himself. The first mistake he made was now blatantly clear in Levi's mind as he listened to the ghost: the soulmisted weapons, every spiritist knew that a ghost could sense such items. How had he forgotten that in his preparations? Any violent ghost that found out there were weapons that could harm them would immediately lash out. The spiritist had underestimated the ghost's volatility even after hearing Djas' description. His fists clenched as that thought passed through his mind. The situation could still be alleviated though, he just had to say the right words. "You are -" An invisible vice-like grip clamped onto his throat, whatever word that was about to come out choked into non-existence. Soulmist manipulation... the spiritist barely remembered the term as the air was choked out of him. He could feel himself being lifted up by the spectre, her hate filled eyes boring into his own. He could not talk or breath, he was completely at her mercy. Levi only hoped that Djas would somehow evade a similar attack. Whether he did or did not Levi could not tell as the soulmist tendril around his neck prevented any movement to turn and look back. The spiteful comment against Dira only further illuminated how dangerous this situation was for the Goddess's two followers. The biting reference of the duo to Dira's jackals did not escape Levi's ears. Since he could not breath or move he had by now resorted to trying to hold his breath as his mind raced to find a way out. If Djas was still able to move, the Dira-marked could cut the tendril with his soulmisted daggers. However, if he was caught like Levi was, that only left one option. He had to use the longsword- No he could not. Such an action should not be done by Levi, if there was to be any semblance to the beginning of conversation he could not resort to violence. Since Djas seemed to have already earned the spirit's ire, if he were to use force that would not be as bad. However, the moment Levi used violence, whatever hope there was for communication would be cast to the wind as the spirit will continue to rage on. He could not hurt the spirit, there was still a chance to turn the tide of this encounter. He could not do anything now even as he was being choked closer and closer to blackout. The ghost's current focus was on him; he had to trust Djas to do what he could not. Relief came to Levi with a sudden drop to the floor as he barely landed on his feet, though he stumbled and fell to the floor on his knees, coughing and catching his breath. He gingerly rubbed his neck. A ear splitting scream shot into Levi's ears as he looked back up at the spirit who had retreated from the two. The expression of pain and shock was easy for the spiritist to see. He turned to look at Djas and saw the dagger in his hand; Levi had been right to trust in the Dira-marked. He stood up, catching the look in Djas eyes and he knew what he was trying to convey: the ring. The spiritist quickly glanced towards it to show he understood and began backing away from the ghost too, though he stepped back at a slower pace than the other man. Levi's eyes were set on the spectre, observing her carefully. He could feel the building rage and fury almost pulsating off of her as the soulmist of her form began getting more aggravated, expectedly so since she was injured now. They may be safe if they made it to the ring, but that was not going to be the end of their problems. The spirit appeared to recover from her howls of pain and immediately it blinked after the running Djas. Levi took this chance to pick up his pace too, though unlike the other he stopped just outside the circle two metres away from the spirit even as she tried forcing her way past the ward, "Drop any weapons you have Djas!! Do not hurt her anymore!!" Levi shouted at the man, though his gaze never left the spectre. He quickly unclasped his sword and tossed it into the ring of soulbeads, followed by the two throwing daggers he had on him. If they were to end the violence now, the two had to show that they did not mean the ghost anymore Slowly the spiritist raised his hands, speaking firmly though his voice was now a little hoarse, and prayed that the ghost still had a semblance of sense to listen. "I apologize for his actions... you had put us in a dangerous situation. You and him have some kind of quarrel I am aware of that now, but believe me, I do not want to hurt you. I have no weapons now. You have all reason to not trust me, but I am not here to force you out of this house. It is your home after all... as I said earlier, I just want to talk with you, person to person."

[Brandon Blackwing]

The tendrils of visible soulmist coiled around the invisible barrier separating the bat from the specter, and although he was wary of her tricks, the Kelvic felt as if he was able to catch his breath. Whatever the ghost had been trying seemed to have failed as she retracted her mist-like essence, instead slamming her form into it, but the noise of whips crackling through the air came not from her side. Rather the sounds came from all around him, apparently originating at the edge of the circle of beads. Was she using whip-like tendrils to try and break the barrier? Brandon just hoped it wasn't possible.

Levi screamed some nonsense, throwing his weapons inside the circle, still believing this could be settled with persuasion. There was good advice in his words though; leaving his blades within the circle. The circle that appeared to be shrinking, several of the beads sliding closer and closer towards the bat. He responded immediately, planting his blades in the wooden floorboards at the edges of the circle, preventing the spirit from making it smaller still. However, now he only had the daggers in his boots, and those weren't infused with Levi's goo. Petch.

While the apparition had now turned towards the spiritist, she still kept on whipping the barrier, though form the sound of it the force she was using had diminished a little. Sound... of course. Perhaps it was from the sound of his heartbeat in his ears that he'd not been paying enough attention; he could perhaps still come out of that circle without having to fear being tossed about like a ragdoll. He just had to listen. However, leaving all his weapons inside was something he just couldn't do. His whole body was a weapon after all.

“A quarrel? With him?” She laughed hollowly, her eyes painfully burning with rage. “No no. I hate him. I hate you! I hate all of you!” From the looks of it, Levi would have to be extremely persistent to get through to her. “You say you mean me no harm, but I know better. You think you can deceive me with words, only because you are no match for my power. You say you mean no harm, and yet here you are; a spiritist in the abode of a ghost. Suspicious, don't you think?” Her brow furrowed, fire blazing from her eyes, her soulmist form quivering and destabilizing around the edges. “You really think I don't notice how you linger around your circle of protection, eager to duck inside when you fail to deceive me? When you need your weapons?!” Her voice boomed through the house, causing every object in the room to tremble. Slightly at first, but then they started rocking harder and harder, more violently.

“I know what you spiritists do! You try to banish us from where we live! You try to enslave us! And if it isn't that, you try to erase our existence!” Various small items started floating now, disconnecting from the floor or piece of furniture they'd been placed on. “I never bothered anyone! I never asked for this! I just want to live in peace! I just want to be left alone!”
“You're not even living,” the bat cut in, not helping matters.
“I KNOW THAT!!!” She screamed, hair almost standing up straight, like a corona of dark snakes. The small objects shot up in the air, and so did she, and the heavier things left the ground. Small pieces of furniture like small tables or cupboards, but though limited in size, their weight was still considerable. “I still want to live in peace,” she repeated, for a moment sounding exhausted, “but there you are, parading in front of my house, making a racket! Staring through the keyholes, through the windows, trying whether the door is unlocked or not!” Drawers opened all simultaneously, a myriad of blades clinking in unison.

“As if it is to rub it in my face! To come mock me with their … their bodies! And their lives! With their happiness! I can't stand it! I hate it! I loathe it! I loathe you!” A plethora of knives now ascended from their resting places, slowly, blades pointing down. For most of the ghost's rant, Brandon had just stood there, staring at the display of power from the specter, but now he knew he had to act. Perhaps Levi would disagree, but violence was the only weapon that had worked so far. Perhaps they -he- could weaken the spirit, and then let the spiritist do the talking. “Perhaps I cannot enter your little circle, but I saw that everything else sure can. The door is unlocked. I wonder, can you escape before your are stabbed by multiple knives?” A smirk crossed her face momentarily. “I see you looking outside. Do you feel it? The longing? The knowledge that you won't be able to leave no matter how close it is?”

For the moment she seemed entirely focused on Levi, and Brandon saw his chance. He made a dash towards one of the floating objects, a route already prepared in his mind. He jumped on the little drink cabinet, jumping to the three-legged stool hanging just a little higher, foot placed in between the three limbs. Higher he propelled himself, but not longer unnoticed. She stared at him in surprise, and Brandon stared back with his narrowed black hues. If he was right, she couldn't slap him when making all those things float, the basis of that hypothesis being that she'd stopped attacking the barrier when she'd started. However, as he just managed to land on a small table, another piece of furniture came flying his way, along with a small shower of knives. He just barely dodged both by jumping on a drawer. It was then that he realized it was an extremely stupid plan he'd thought up. How or why he'd ever thought it was brilliant was beyond him. Every floating object was under control of the specter, as were those he was standing on. Not only could she thwart him whenever she wished, but if he somehow managed to hit her, all of the items would be dropped. The knives too.

The drawer was yanked from underneath his feet, sending him back to the ground, the stool from before speeding towards him. Brandon cursed, there was nothing he could do to avoid it, he tried to alter his position so he'd be a smaller target, but the stool just followed, guided by the spirit. Its seat slammed into his upper arm, the bat sacrificing the limb for his head, smacking into the floorboards not even a tick later, winded. Petch. “Fool.” All Brandon could do without breath, and with some serious backache was roll to the side a little. He just hoped that although his plan had failed -it had been a failure from the start- had at least bought Levi the chance to get to the door. It hadn't seemed as if the ghost had actually planned to let him escape though. Brandon knew she'd been speaking the truth by saying that the door wasn't locked; he hadn't heard it click. However, it was still sealed shut, barricaded. Not hurting the ghost was not an option if they wanted to get out. Well, if Levi still refused, Brandon would do it... as soon as he could get up. For the moment, all he could do was hope that the spiritist would somehow manage to turn the tide, be it with words, be it with something else.

[Levi Remilian]

Levi was unsure how long the ring of beads would hold out for. In any normal situation the soulbeads were enough to ward off a spirit for a long time, but a apparition of this calibre? The ring was being pushed much to the spiritist's dibelief; only the most powerful of ghosts could manage such a feat. The blades Djas stabbed into the floor near the circle's edge should be able to halt the movement for now, acting in a manner as ghostnails would, but it was only a matter of time for the ghost to find out the ward's inherent weakness. The physical can still cross the barrier and with her level of manipulation, she could easily crash items in the room into the circle. Soulmist whipped about and flickered wildly, signs of the ghost's ever increasing anger. Her words were so full of hate, hate that clouded her mind. How long has she been here, how driven was she to remain? Levi stumbled back at the ghost's outburst against spiritist, this action leading him further away from the ring unintentionally. Realizing what he just did, Levi did not stop but continued moving away from the ring while still maintaining the same distance from the ghost. Djas' comment did not make the situation any better, the only words with the slightest chance of getting across were his own. It will be painstaking, but it had to be done. All Levi could do for now was listen to the spirit, grimacing at what she thought spiritists did. He had stories of such spiritists from his mother, mages who did not heed Dira and were not concerned with helping ghosts pass on. Yes, these were mages who cared only for their own power and not for the pain and agony the ghosts they tortured went through. Harming, dusting, banishing, these were all part of a spiritist's repertoire of eliminating ghosts. These were techniques that Levi had sworn to never use. A spiritist's job was not to prolong a spirit's torment; a spiritist's job was to give a spirit peace. He needed to make that clear before the situation further escalated. Misunderstood, that was all she was. Levi could tell that she was weary and envious of the living. Such emotions if left to stagnate would only grow dark, twisted into the cruel resent shown by the ghost now. The spiritists saw the options that were before him now. He could retreat and jump into the soulbead ring, or he could do that then attack. Neither were courses of action he would ever take. A tremble and shiver coursed down Levi's spine. He had to stand firm and resolutely, that was the only option for him. Drawers opened with a thud and dull metal rose up, clinking as invisible tendrils raised them up alongside furniture. A sudden memory of a particular sentence he encountered while learning spiritism came to Levi's mind: 'Never meet an angered ghost in a kitchen if you value your life'. This was no kitchen, but with the amount of knives floating around the ghost girl, there was no real difference. His eyes widened at the sight, another of Levi's conditions for a worst case scenario confirmed. The ghost girl's mocking voice echoed in Levi's mind, even as he tried to the best of his will to keep his gaze on her while his teeth grit and muscles tensed up. Instincts were an animalistic trait, a trait that Levi consciously sought to suppress for attaining a clear mind in circumstances such as the this. he could feel the most primal instinct screaming for him to run for it and save himself from the apparition's wrath. He felt fear like he had never felt before; no other spirit had been this dangerous and powerful, and the spiritist knew that he was afraid. Afraid of the spirit before him, afraid for the lives of Djas and himself. There was a chance they could escape the house without further harm. Nonetheless, the spiritist knew it would be impossible. Even if the door was unlocked, they could not outrun thrown knives. Additionally the door had been shut by the ghost and he guessed even if they made it that far, it will remain shut as she continued toying with them. Feet planted down more firmly, the spiritist's gaze without waver stayed focused on the spirit, his straight expression the best he could manage even as his fists shook and trembled from the fear howling in his mind. "No... I am not running!" Levi saw Djas beginning to make his move to get away and for a moment even within that tense situation he was amazed at how dextrously he leaped from object to object. Said amazement soon vanished as the Dira-marked lost his footing and was assailed by a hurtling stool. Levi grimaced at his companion's plight, hoping that Djas' attempt to escape did not provoke the ghost further. Time was ticking away for the two, the paths of violence and persuasion leaning more and more in favour towards the prior of the two. At least, for any other man besides Levi at this moment. Violence was only a short-term solution, and from it the tiny sliver of possibly peaceful persuasion would vanish. Maybe Djas was in the mind to use force, it was to be expected, but the Levi stood by his principles firmly. No one else had tried to simply talk to this person so Levi will be the one to change that! Levi steeled himself, breathing slowly and carefully to further calm himself down. Word were the only weapon that could work now. Clenched fists slowly relaxed as he again spoke with an unexpectedly fierce determination. "You are right... I know of many spiritists who are exactly as you described. You are right to distrust them. They study this art for their own sake, their own power and ambition. Sending ghosts to oblivion, turning them to dust and collecting them, trapping them away for eternity, I know that. However!" His voice burned with a sudden fire of what sounded like anger, "I detest and hate such methods! I would rather be killed by you than to ever banish or destroy a spirit! That is murder!!" He stopped himself, catching his breath as he tried to calm himself. Levi continued with a soft voice. "From childhood, I was always with ghosts. To me they were just people like anyone else. I talked with them and tried to understand them, why they were in so much anguish, why they were so angry. That is why I became a spiritist, to better understand souls like you and give them relief in any way I could. It is horrible not having a body to move in, eat with, feel with, sleep in, and enjoy what life has to offer, I know that well! My sister remained as a ghost and is still with me to this day and I would listen to her complaints much like yours, and it pains me. So I have tried learning how to help people like you, even if it is by simply talking to you when no one else would. I know it is a lonely life, whatever the reason it may be that you remained. But I want to know you, the person you are and the life you have led until this moment. I want to listen. So please... can we talk? I promise that is all I wanted to do, even if you do hate all of us. Please..." Levi felt his legs give away as he fell onto the ground on his knees, the impact jarring them painfully as he groaned. The spritist was spent, every last ounce of strength he had left was poured into those words. He weakly pulled out of his pouch a jar and opened it, still half full with soulmist. He set it on the floor, looking up at the spirit. "If it helps, you can have this. I made it myself... it will help you feel better... I promise on my life...There was little else he could do now, that was the final card in Levi's deck. Nothing more to be done but await the result of his last ditch effort to appease the shade.

[Brandon Blackwing]

Words it was, and Brandon couldn't help but groan at the spiritist's decision. That's it, they were doomed. Well, at least Levi was, because Brandon wouldn't die.... on second thought, he'd rather die than barely survive, if he had to choose. Surviving was one thing, but living was another. Slowly he tried rolling onto his stomach, teeth clenched as his back and shoulder protested with a fierce burn of pain. Petch. How useless could he be? Coming up with stupid plans, and then being incapacitated as a result. It couldn't get much worse. But he didn't believe it'd get better either. He was wrong.

The determination and belief in Levi's speech actually had an effect on the ghost, and she slowly descended, looking wary, but not as aggressive as before. “Murder...” she muttered, ponderously. Brandon disagreed with Levi's view on the matter, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing he'd seal their fates if he didn't. “Murder... you are saying I am alive to you?” her whispers were soft, and almost fragile. She stared for a bit, eyes set on something that couldn't be seen, something that probably didn't exist in the present. For a moment, her form wavered, almost fading away, but just as sudden as the change had come, it was gone again, her form as steady as it had been before. At the same moment, Brandon gave getting up another try, slowly pushing himself onto his knees, one hand grabbing his shoulder as he managed to sit up straight.

From there it was just a matter of putting his feet on the floor and unfolding his legs, something that didn't give him too much trouble. His back did ache, but his shoulder and upper arm felt worse. It probably wasn't damaged all too much, just bruised. The spirit's head snapped towards him, and it rained knives for a tick or two, all burying themselves in the floor before his feet. “Whoa, easy! Calm!”
“You stay where you are! I don't trust you. He might not mean any harm, but you..?” She narrowed her ghostly eyes, caution prominent in them. Idly the bat wondered if the reason of her caution was his mark. Levi's sister had found him incredibly intimidating, but so far this one hadn't appeared to be. Perhaps it was because she was a more powerful spirit?

Brandon didn't make any attempt to move from his spot though, having decided he'd let Levi handle this, and the apparition turned back towards the young spiritist, all objects hovering in the immediate vicinity of the white-clad man returning to the floor. “Okay. We'll talk.” Wariness was obvious in her voice, but so was a certain hunger. Eagerness not quite hidden. It was painful to see her sink her teeth in the opportunity, in the promise of a “normal” conversation. “What is it you want from me? Why did you come to my house?” The opened jar that Levi had placed between them slowly drifted towards the spirit, who frowned at it, then sniffed the goo a couple times. She eyed the spiritist warily once more, as if she didn't quite trust it, as if she figured he'd pull some sort of trick on her. That he would perhaps come back on his words.

And then, she consumed the soulmist, visibly growing stronger as she did so, but her fierceness did not return. Instead she smacked her ethereal lips and cocked her head, judging the taste. “About average, I suppose,” she mumbled, sliding the empty jar back to its owner. “Tell me about your sister,” came the odd demand then, her form sliding into a sitting position, eyes getting level with Levi's. If she'd been a living creature, that would be the time to attack, but Brandon was now well aware that to a ghost it didn't matter whether or not they were sitting, standing, or floating. With their abilities they would always be one step ahead of anyone else.

[Levi Remilian]

The wait for the spirit's response was excruciating for Levi. His speech was the final push and had drained him of his stamina more than any length of speaking should have. He waited, waited for what either could be peace at last or a violent lashing out. Thankfully it was the prior of the two possibilities. The spiritist could see that his words had an effect on the ghost as she settled down. She was still cautious, but what mattered was that she was no longer hostile. Soulmist settled and ceased their violent movement as she descended. Levi sighed shakily. He had succeeded in convincing her, thank Dira. The wavering of the ghost's form was immediately noticed by Levi; it was yet another sign that he had succeeded. It would be foolish to think that she would fade away simply from one speech even if it was driven by the most fierce of Levi's emotions, but it was a start. The spiritist answered the ghost. "To me you are no different than anyone else. You have a soul just as I do." Maybe other people would disagree with him on this matter, but for Levi it was a belief he upheld. Ghosts wee still people, they still led lives even if it was beyond the point where it should have ended. There was definitely partiality in Levi's thoughts though; he did practically grow up knowing of ghosts and conversing with them freely. The young man turned around to see Djas and smiled in at him to try and assure him further, that the situation was going to be alright. Just as several knives stabbed into the floorboard around him. Levi flinched at the sight, but thankfully it seemed there was no harm done to his companion. The spirit must still be wary of Djas, considering not only did he hurt her but she must also be feeling the power of Dira's mark even if it seemed to have little effect on her. The spiritist was the only one who could carry a normal conversation here; that is what he came here to do in the first place. Perhaps he was still too vague with Djas when he described what he was going to do. Perhaps he had been too excited to teach him that he went and showed off his skill in spiritism instead of actually explaining his mode of operation. Mentally he berated himself; it was a silly mistake on his part. The focus of this moment was on Levi since he was the one who asked to talk; thus he must do exactly that. He could hear the floating objects settle on the floor around him with dull thunks. The desire for a conversation that he detected in the ghost's voice did not go over Levi's head. It must have been a long time since anyone tried having a simple conversation with her. That only made the prospect of giving her one all the more pleasing to Levi. "Thank you," He still kept his voice as gentle as possible to further disarm her, "My sister and I have only recently arrived here in Lhavit. I wished to find where the spirits of this city could be found and meet them, learn about them. I first tried the landslide's site which is where I met my companion, but both of us were refused entry by the Okomo of all things." He chuckled, remembering the sight of Djas being hefted by the collar of his coat. "Since that failed, I asked Djas if he knew where else spirits could possibly be in this city and he led me here, warning me that you were dangerous and powerful. And thus wishing to meet you, the two of us came into your home. Even if our initial impressions were..." He frowned a little and glanced at Djas, "less than pleasant, I am glad we can talk normally now." Hesitation was easy to see as the ghost examined Levi's jar. If she had met other spiritists with ill intentions before, she had good reason to be wary of such an offer. The soulmist soon vanished into the spirit though. He could feel her presence grow stronger but without the earlier belligerence. A faint smile escaped through Levi's calm visage. The ghost's average critique of Levi's soulmist however dealt a blow to the spiritist's pride, making the man lower his head and laugh weakly. Naya enjoyably wolfed up with glee the soulmist he made for her, but that could be because she was much weaker in strength than the ghost here. She must have had soulmist created by much more experienced practitioners of spiritism; the difference would be like that of a dry biscuit versus a mouth-watering pastry. The question about his sister was not an odd one to Levi; it was a natural progression from the moment he mentioned he had a ghost sister. The apparition sat before him, his blue eyes locked on hers. He tucked the empty jar into his jar and nodded. "Very well. Naya is not my real sister. It is more so she became attached to me and I became her brother. She is a sweet and energetic girl, she dreamed of travelling through Mizahar with me when we grew up. However, she died several years ago in an accident. Fell down the stairs..." The spiritist frowned sadly, reminiscing, "She remained as a ghost though, her dream with me being the reason for her continued existence." Levi went quiet for a while, head bowed, when he looked up and spoke again. "You can see my memories for yourself by possessing me, if you don't believe me. The possession works both ways however, so as you see my memories I could see yours. It is all up to you. I promise there is no trick in it." He was unsure of how powerful in terms of possession she was, but he was confident that there was no danger in such an act now. It may be more beneficial for communication now in fact. The memories and emotions of the day Levi and Naya first met, the day they made their promise, the day of Naya's death, the day they met again, and the day they left Black Rock, he was ready to show it all.

[Brandon Blackwing]

“I see...” the ghost muttered, her eyes seeming to widen ever so slightly, her whole face twitching almost unnoticeably at the mention of the staircase. As soon as it had appeared it was gone though, probably seeming more like an illusion or trick of the eye than anything else. She listened to the continuation of Levi's story just like she had before, until he was done talking and had suggested the possession. The spirit frowned at that, once more there was caution creeping in her eyes, suspicion too.

“Possess you...” her voice trailed off, there was no doubt that she was considering it, weighing off the advantages and disadvantages. First off she really wanted to experience having a body again. She wanted to feel with her hands, to enjoy the sensation of feeling the world. Eating too was high on her list. It had been so long since she'd eaten for the last time. She wanted to walk outside, feel the sunlight on her skin. She wanted to run, to fall, to laugh and cry with a body once more. She wanted to feel real again, to feel alive again.

On the other hand, it could be a trap. Maybe she'd enter his body but be unable to get out, while not even being able to control it too. However, the boy did look like the honorable sort. Much unlike that shady fellow standing around... There wasn't much of an internal struggle though; soon enough she gently lowered all floating objects, placing them on the floor with utmost care. For a tock or two she wondered if she should organize her living room before giving possession a shot, but decided against it. She couldn't wait any longer. Her desire throbbed, temptation beckoning.

“No tricks, right?” she asked one more time, then diving into the spiritist's body, grasping for control.

* * *
Brandon watched silently as Levi offered to allow the apparition to possess him, though he shook his head slightly. Maybe it was a result of being completely new to the world of spiritsm, but the bat found just about everything the man had done up until now extremely stupid. They were bad decisions. Give the ghost some soulmist to regain her power? Stupid. Throwing his sword in the barrier? Stupid. Suggesting the spirit should possess him? Stupid! True, the man might have had some ulterior motives, but that idea was dismissed right away. Levi just didn't seem the type, nor did he feel “wrong”. He didn't appear to be lying either.

As the spirit merged with the white-clad man's body, the bat walked over to the barrier, and retrieved his daggers, sheathing them one by one.

* * *

Shakily, the ghost stood on Levi's legs, looking distraught and disoriented. She stumbled forwards a couple steps, then steadied herself. Both arms clumsily swung upwards, two hands slapping either side of the spiritist's face. It had been an attempt to just touch the skin of her loaned face. She didn't feel anything. No pain, and when the hands kept pressing into her cheeks, she felt no touch either. Her knees buckled as it dawned on her; the curse of her ghostly form wouldn't allow her to be alive ever again. Nor would it allow her to feel alive. Even taking over the body of another wouldn't do her any good. A yell exited her throat violently, and involuntarily she slammed her head into the floor, however, she never noticed. She just screamed, knowing that her wishes could never come true. Her desires would forever be unfulfilled. A ghost's existence was plagued by constant, never ending misery, and there was no escaping it. She left the spiritist's body then, feeling tired and weak. But it wasn't the kind of tired she wanted to feel; it was the exhaustion of having spent too much of her own essence, the exhaustion of a ghost. A being that was, and wasn't.

* * *

He watched as the apparition used the spiritist's body, he observed the emotions she expressed, the distress and anguish on the face she'd borrowed. Utter misery weighing down on her, crushing whatever hopes she might have had. As she left, vanishing from sight but still very present, soft echoes of what might have been sobbing rang through the room. Brandon felt for her, noticing once again that a spirit stirred up compassion within him. Was it the suffering they endured? Was it the anguish he feared he might one day feel for himself? Or was it perhaps the desire to do for them what he wanted someone else to do for him when the time came? Delivering him from that which stabbed his soul, that which made them feel so miserable. Deliverance from suffering.

He spoke.

“If your pain is that great, then why don't you just let go? Why don't you go meet Dira? Does she scare you? Even now, when you are already halfway there? When you should know that there is no way back? You are stuck like this, and for what?” He recalled everything the spirit had said to them. Every taunt she had hurled at their person. “To mimic life? To pretend? To deny your own death? And is it satisfying?” He spoke softly now, voice almost a whisper. “It isn't, is it?”