Purging Pepper's Items [12/14]

[23:27] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I'm going to warn you. You once told me you looked down on Gehennan use of blood in rituals."
[23:28] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "That's what I'm going to do. If you're squeamish about it, you should go."
[23:28] Peppermint says, ". . .Apparently her execution was ordered, but I don't care. I don't think Iosefka is that kind of person, nor Zoldak - to want a girl to be executed for entering the mines a few times. But-"
[23:28] Peppermint says, ". . .Mm."
[23:29] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "No...they are not. Typically."
[23:29] She scratches her cheek. How can someone with a scythe have a weak stomach at the thought of bloodletting?

Be Peppermint. Simple. "Uh. I'll stay."
(Peppermint)
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[23:30] Ohtli nods and palms the arcanium mask and headdress, looking over to her partner. "You're ready then, Starseeker?"
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[23:30] Peppermint says, "It's just, Lusion's wife said he ordered her death. And, I don't know. It doesn't sit right. I always thought Dawn did these things because they were necessary. None of that seemed. . .to have purpose."
[23:31] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "A lot of things people do don't seem to have purpose."
[23:31] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "I'm going to ask you before I begin- do you dabble in any occult magic?"
[23:31] Peppermint says, "No."
[23:32] Peppermint says, ". . .Vincent does."
[23:32] Everyone knows Vincent does. Dear gods.

". . .But, I do not."
(Peppermint)
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[23:32] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Good. That would be a problem."
[23:33] Peppermint says, "The only reason why I was able to keep those on my person so long is because I'm an exorcist."
[23:33] Windsor says, "Of course, Caretaker."
[23:33] Windsor says, "Whatever you've got, flaunt it. Or.. y-y'know. Just... do the good work you do."
[23:43] The Drakan flashes the astrologist a smirk- then she remembers where she is and what she's doing. She clears her throat and looks back to the teeth and bones on the floor. Without further introduction she dons the glittering carved mask and its attached raiment of feathers. The potent, dormant magic within it flares to life in the presence of the corruption within the items.

Her wings, the vibrant blue plumes, burst from her back and flare open. Claws grow from her fingertips and scales sprout from the skin on her forearms. The transformation takes moments. At its end she sighs, not in exasperation but relief.

Ohtli stretches and, behind the faceted lenses of the mask, her eyes search over the pile of bones and teeth. She's treated to a view of what she might not've seen otherwise. Without the raiment's assistance she could not have seen directly what lie within the objects brought to her.

Now she can, clear as day, but she cannot reach it.Within each is a core of undulating darkness. Pulling it out with sheer brute force would only shatter the objects or damage them beyond use, which is technically purification. -Technically. Instead she takes the more judicious route.

"Starseeker. Draw it out," she snarls, grabbing for her knife. The time for niceties and courtesy is over. There's work to be done.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[23:54] The astrologian, for his part, hadn't been cutting his teeth with this endeavor in some time. Purification was a simple and fulfilling enough task, but it took some acclimation. He wasn't even certain what his role was going to be this time - but then, it should have been obvious. Coaxing out the malevolence innate within either of the corrupted objects was just his part of things, and he'd play his part with as much due professionalism as possible.

Knowing this, the astrologian drew out his globe. Windsor stared out to the bone and the fang, lilting just over the ground. Spreading his fingers out, the magus shut his eyes tight and felt for the energies laden within both of the materials, sensing the hostile intent innate within the bones. "...These things are sure to give someone an 'edge' in a fight, but at a cost.

"That's as much as I can identify, but now we need to do the real work." A dull thrum escaped from the palms of his hands as the astrolabe began to spin violently, a barely tangible 'tether' forming between the heavenly measure and the two materials. That tether soon became more manifest over time, its visibility increasing as Windsor strengthens his connection with them.

Ultimately, it was just a cosmic tapping - no more, no less - but it was immediately starting to have its effect on Windsor. His fingers clenched tight with exertion as energy throbs away from him, the deathly artifacts draining some of his vim and vigor in exchange for power that he didn't necessarily need. Still, with that, the ill-willed presence laden within the artifacts slowly began to rise in the form of the golden cosmic tethers dulling to a harsher jet black that appeared to absorb the light around it.

Such was Saekanis's fell will made manifest.
(Windsor)
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[00:05] Keaka gingerly pushed open the door, hoping he was interrupting anything pertinent. Fortunately for him the ritual was just starting. He crossed the room practically stepping on his tip-toes to make for the seats across the room.

To watch a purification ritual done by none other than his parents was a treat. His thumbs pressed against each other while he eyed Peppermint sitting beside him. Curious as he was, he decided not to ask questions and just watch. Observe. Take notes.

There was much to take in.

While with Windsor springing to action, Keaka's attention was ultimately focused on Ohtli's mask - he was once told that the artifact was made from a spire shard. And what great luck he had to watch her operate.
He was unable to study just one facet of the ritual. Keaka felt his head grow full as his eyes continued to bounce around from person to artifact. To magical tether to magical tether.

It kept his mind racing. And it was too bad Wheatley wasn't here to see it.
(Keaka Tezcacoatl)
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[00:11] Ohtli trusts Windsor to be quick on the uptake. The astrologist doesn't disappoint and takes to his work with the quick, curt commands he's given. Good. All is well. All is right and good will be done. The Serpent's Will will be done.

He expends his energy, his efforts into drawing out the corruption within on threads of golden light. As eager she is to slice the darkening threads to bits she knows she has to wait. And wait. To act prematurely would only destroy a portion of it and leave the rest to retreat, to redouble and fester.

That won't stand.

She bides her time, coiled and ready to strike. Saekanis' workings within are finally brought all without on the gossamer tendrils of cosmic energy. Their presence causes the room to dim by a handful of degrees.

Then is the time to strike. Ohtli brings the knife's edge to bear against the flesh of her forearm, tearing open a long gash into the scale dappled flesh. Power in life, power in blood. Specifically her blood, in this case, infused with purity from discipline and meditation.

When she flings her arm towards the darkened tendrils the vile corruption sizzles, leaving an acrid, heady smell that permeates the cramped confines of the clinic. The Drakan thrashes the limb back and forth, shedding more and more blood onto the corruption made manifest. With each pass it dwindles.

It dwindles until, Spirits willing, the darkness is no more and the full measure of light returns to the room.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[00:24] Windsor continues his struggle with the corrupted curios, focused intently on keeping Saekanis's foul clutches on them exposed. Draining as it was, it was a familiar sort of enervation that wracked him - one that he knew well enough. Consequently, he was hardier, more resistant to its pain than he might have otherwise been.

Does that make it any less painful? No, certainly not. Having the notion of death and harvest itself pry at your being was not like to be a pleasant sensation. Veins bulged in his arms as he kept himself together. He served as a bulwark that kept the caustic presence from leaping out at him, using the man as a conduit, and thankfully managed to serve as an adequate enough one.

Adequate enough, that is, for Ohtli to get her own talons around the corruption, using her blood to bring the corruption to heel. For his part, however, his focus renders him insensate to her own bleeding - doubtless he'd be rising to action otherwise.

Only when he feels the pain ebb away and the enervation lessen does he think to open his eyes and observe the fruits of his partner's bloody labor.
(Windsor)
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[00:44] Peppermint is drawn in, the mask worn by Ohtil, a visage she had worn, different from the stern and patient face she wore as the crafter that Peppermint had came to know. There was no sparing her own reaction at this point. Just as much as Keaka, her eyes are filled with childlike wonderment and quiet observation. There was something beyond normal levels of magic taking place within the clinic.

At first the energy had been contained somewhat, locked within the ivory and chitin of the parts drawn out and collected from tghe Raksha. Both of them are something to behold. Though such is not the power of the ritualistic blood that is drawn in offering and trade for power, nor the splendorous globe within the astrologian's hand. The product of it all is how seamlessly the two worked together. A harmonious song - two pieces that fit together. That sort of meshing is something that inspired the warmth in the depth of her heart.

They were in love. And such love was why such meticulousness went into the tritual. The stargazer draws it out and the serpentine maiden winds with grace in a lashing and fluid strike towards the corruption. Had it worked? It could be only told with time, but for now, Peppermint trades gazes with Keaka, head canting and ears tilting upwards.

". . .Ah." There's still tension in the air. ". . .That was-"
She's speechless. Perhaps that's her damaged lungs.
(Peppermint)
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[00:45] The corruption fizzles down to nothing but a final rising cloud of mist that dissipates into a stir of wind. The teeth and bones left behind? They shine with newfound purpose and purity. All is clean, all is well, and a flare of shimmering magic cascades down the cowl of feathers. Ohtli shivers as it does.

She sways and, in the aftermath, becomes more cognizant of the long gash in her arm.

Oops. At least she did this in the clinic this time. Where blood is -supposed- to get everywhere. Sort of.

"Done...It's done. Starseeker?"

With the job complete, her duty done, she can afford to be mindful of her partner's welfare. Surely he didn't come out of it entirely unscathed, not with that strenuous use of cosmic magic.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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