roadrunnermuses | for Wizera } { random rp shenanigans

And he'll ramble off a bunch of victims I'm too lazy to give actual names and faces to but they were killed in various ways that could be considered "tragic accidents" - falling lighting arrays, electrocuted by overloaded speakers, the works.

"Each one seems like a different crime of opportunity, and there's no real consistency in the 'types' of victims - roadies, press, groupies - it doesn't really discriminate."

"That sounds less like revenge and more like wanton destruction," Artemis muttered, making no attempt to hide her utter disgust. She would be the first to accept that some men just wanted the world to burn.

And also the first in line to stuff them in a closet.

"Maybe. It could be a poltergeist and that's the clue we're missing. Though poltergeists are going to be harder to take out."

It involves purifying the area and they don't really have a set area to purify.

Artemis' knowledge of poltergeists was a bit spotty, but she scowled, trying to dredge up as much of it as she could. "Not necessarily," she murmured, her eyes going deep inside of her soul somewhere.

Sometimes, when she tried to remember things, she imagined that she was in her old bedroom back in Notting Hill, wearing her nightgown with her hair in plaits. Papa would sit on the edge of the bed and tell her a story.

The story that she needed to hear.

Now, his rich and tender voice echoed through her mind, saying words he'd never actually said.

Poltergeists must be purified from a place. Cut down by faith...

"True Faith." Her eyes flashed back to life, like someone had flipped a switch. "That's what's required, yes?"

Sam watches this, keeping a look out for anyone who might notice before his eyes widen and he nods. "Yeah. There are hex bags you put in the cardinal corners to purify an area."

"There might be another way," Artemis said. "It wouldn't work for an area much more than ten feet in diameter. But it would be a moving target. We could sweep it through the area, possibly flush our friend out."

Sam's eyebrows go up for a moment, glancing around briefly as he does. "How does it work?" He prefers to know what he's getting into before he puts a plan into action. It seems safer that way, more than anything else.

It was a good question. And, surprisingly, one that very few members of the Order had ever asked Artemis. Which was to say, she wasn't sure she could give him a solid explanation.

"Certain Cainites," she murmured, "possess a level of faith so true and so strong that it can be...used like a beacon. Almost weaponized, in a sense."

Sam nods slowly as he considers that, tipping his head to the side as he thinks it through. "So you mean it's kind of like a faith death ray or something?"

Artemis frowned. "I don't know that I've ever seen it kill before." But it was theoretically possible.

She also wasn't entirely sure what he meant by 'ray,' but she decided that it wasn't a terribly significant point.

It's not really. It's just a means of creating a picture in his head, which for the record is like some kind of Havok style ray shooting out of the center of her chest.

"Well, it's ... worth a shot."

"All right," Artemis said, nodding in a business-like fashion.

She took a few steps away from Sam, holding out her hands to either side, fingers slightly splayed. It wasn't enough to draw a lot of overt attention, but it did look a bit peculiar.

And after a moment, it looked even more peculiar.

Well, it didn't look peculiar so much as feel peculiar. When Artemis unleashed her faith, it felt like a wave of warm wind. Ignorable, unless you were waiting for it. And painful to the unclean.

Sam waits for a moment, feeling the wave of it brush past him and keeping his eyes on the world around him. He has a feeling that if this actually hurts whatever's lurking around, then they'll see a sign sooner rather than later. And soon enough, there's a loud crash and a scream from an area backstage and Sam is already running.

That would be his cue.

There was no hesitation on Artemis' part. Where others saw a fire and ran away from it, the York sisters were rather infamous for running right into it.

She carried her Faith with her, like an invisible, intangible cape that billowed around in the air behind her. And suddenly realized how very odd it was that she'd used it in the presence of a hunter.

That was a first.

Sam reaches the room first, gun raised to try and save the person inside, but is quickly thrown into a wall for his trouble, slumping to the ground with a groan. The entity isn't visible, but it's clearly making it's presence known, tossing items around the dressing room with no care absolutely for what breaks.

Artemis was used to dealing with invisible creatures, quickly engaging her Auspex to take a look around the room. Unfortunately, spirits didn't behave the way Cainites did. Instead of seeing the creature, she saw spots on everything it had touched, making the whole room glow like a motel bed under an ultraviolet light.

"Well, that's inconvenient," she sneered.

Except that she suddenly saw an enormous mass of the glowing energy moving toward Sam and immediately hurled herself forward, as if to tackle it.

Of course, one couldn't very well tackle a ghost. She felt through it, gracelessly hitting the floor. And her Faith made it howl with rage.

That manages to give Sam enough time to fumble his gun into position, shooting the first round straight through the area where the howl had come from, some of the energy flickering in the air around it as it lets out another howl of pain at the burn of the iron.

Guns were not Artemis' favorite thing. They drew too much attention and, all too often, weren't more effective against the supernatural than pissing them off.

But Sam's ploy seemed effective.

She rolled up onto a crouch, desperately wishing she'd found a way to sneak her knife into the ridiculous outfit she'd been forced to wear.

No matter.

She moved toward the howling and the energy, forcing her Faith out through her very fingertips, into the spirit.

It doesn't take much between the two of them, with Sam still firing rounds into the poltergeist and Artemis's application of faith that the spirit implodes, sending a shock wave throughout the room, after which everything goes quiet. Sam takes a moment to catch his breath, glancing around to see if there's any other sign of trouble before lowering his weapon.

"I think we got it."

Truth Faith could only last so long and be used so offensively. It began to dissipate like a fog, crawling back into Artemis. Not something she could explain. Nor was she inclined to.

"That was surprisingly straightforward," she muttered. Artemis rarely trusted easy things.

But, of course, she was quite mad.

Sam gives a small shrug as he glances around, before moving towards the door to see if they had attracted security yet. "Sometimes they're easier than they look," he sighs, before tipping his head down the hall. "C'mon. We should get out of here before they decide to follow the sounds of the gunshots."

"I wholeheartedly agree," she replied, moving to follow him.

Of course, it was a rock concert. The Luddite part of Artemis wondered if they would even hear. It was all about noise, after all.

Knowing Sam's luck, it could easily go either way. Still, without a word he'll lead the way through the maze of backstage and wait until they've gotten some distance before he glances over to her with a smile.

"Thanks. For the help in there."

for Wizera } { random rp shenanigans

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