night creatures

A loud, harh hissing announced the presence of another, stepping out from the woods. A hooded person, wearing what appeared to be some sort of metal and mechanical suit - Adorned with a gas mask. It was definitely unusual garb, and for some reason, a little unnerving...

"It's dangerous to wander alone at night." The figure chimed ominously, another hiss coming from their gas mask. "You must either be a talented young Magi, or quite the fool."
(Jinx)

Reticence says in telepathy, do not feel alarmed. i will protect you if they become violent.

"Hm, hm.."

Ambrose's gaze shifts towards Jinx. How peculiar... someone with a gas mask, and someone who would be watching him in such a manner?

"Ah!"

"You're one of these... dangerous strangers, yes?" He almost smiles. What's about this child in particular that would make them smile at the sight of such vision, anyway?

"I could be either!"

"A very talented magi, or quite the fool."

He clasps his hands together. Is he... excited? Despite what seems to be buzzing around, his eyes shift about a little bit.

Curious..

But still, his gaze points forward.

"Do you want to roll the dice and find out for yourself?"
(Ambrose Roche)

A hand raised, a gauntlet upon it hissing with the motion. In the center of the palm was some sort of crystal - But it's purpose was never revealed, as the figure waved their hand.

"No. No. I don't think I will. I don't think I'm a match for even a Magi child currently." Their gaze fell heavily upon Abrose then. "Currently." They repeated.

The figure suddenly turned, looking northbound. "Tell me. Has there been any news from the city? Any celebrations or happenings? I've been quite out of touch with Osrona of late."
(Jinx)

"Awww.."

"A buzzkill!"

Still, Roche almost begins to sway a little bit, beginning to approach closer towards Jinx; there seems to be an ever growing smile on a child's face, so ever entertained by the premise before them.

"That's too bad..."

"You wouldn't even test yourself, hm?"

It's almost as if this situation is turned around- flipped right onto its head from where it began, and from the position of being a threatening figure..

Their position has fallen.
Now, Ambrose is there.

"But why would I tell you anything?"

"You come here, all creepy like.." He pauses, inching closer. "And don't even introduce yourself."

"What am I to make out of it?"

Perhaps Jinx has met an oddity. Before them was not a simple child that would be afraid at a sight of something like this, but something entirely else.

Was it even a human child to begin with? Or something that wears an appearance of one?

"So let's start this over.."

"Introduce yourself, and maaaaybe I'll tell you!"
(Ambrose Roche)

"You're right. Where are my manners?" The figure turned a bit closer, a deep breath being pulled through the heavy mask. They didn't seem threatened by Ambrose, even as they pushed forward.

"I am Jinx." They would tell, "And I've been on a very, very long string of bad luck. And as they say, bad luck spreads - That's why I'm out here. Alone."

A gesture was given to the forest expanse. "Some consider me to be a bad omen. They might be right. Nothing ever seems to end well around me, after all."

Another hiss came from the strange suit they wore. "Does that suffice to answer your questions?"
(Jinx)

"it is fortuitous for you,"

a whisper slithers against the side of Jinx's mask before a rising cacophony of similar whispers approaches from the south,
pushing aside the trees with a gradual build to a crescendo

"That you did not try."

A relatively nonthreatening countenance presses itself through the boundary of the trees, with a veil of spectral threads tying a suit of armor and its weapon together, providing neither expression nor a face to place such an expression thereon. With the stimulus before it, quite apparently the creature has seen fit to reveal its presence, and so in short measure it declares to Jinx,

perhaps spoiling Ambrose's fun? there is a purpose to this thing as there is a purpose to all things, but,

"But I exist to instill the meaning of loss in those who are in need of it. So,
you will pay tribute, misfortunate one."

It aligns the head of a staff toward Jinx, and the night winds rise around such a figure, perhaps to fate's personal cruelty thereto.

"You are perhaps correct that you are on a very, very long string of bad luck. But you may be more intelligent than most I meet."

It actively wobbles.
is it injured?
(Reticence)

How quaint...

Sometimes, all it takes is to properly ask! The definition of one being proper, of course, varying depending on who exactly they deal with at the time.

"Hm.."

He ponders for a bit upon such answer. Would it truly suffice for Ambrose? He taps at his chin idly, his countenance shifting in its expression just a little bit, but...

The answer is promptly given.

"Yes. That'll do."

"Osrona has been veeeery boring. Down even, I'd say! They seem to be very saddened as of late."

"But why do you ask anyway?"

It's an oddity for someone like them to ask, after all. Why would a stranger in the woods care about the city that proclaims to be that of Light?

Were they its enemy,
or its foe?

"Ah-"

Yet his gaze turns towards the Dullahan nearby. A smile.

"Seems like you've got even bigger trouble now!"
(Ambrose Roche)

"Ah, such a shame. Boring and dull? It sounds like it could use a little more excitemen-"

The Dullahan approached, and the masked figure let out a hearty laugh. Arms stretched out wide along the horizon, and Jinx made no effort to flee such a dangerous being.

"Tribute?! To loss?! But I would have nothing more to take my friend! You are much, much, much too late to claim anything from me - For it was all taken far before you approached on this night!"

More laughter came from behind the gas mask.

"I am sorry for the laughter, I merely found the premise of losing anything more quite interesting. Search my soul, Dullahan, and tell me! What is it that you would take from me to symbolize loss?!"
(Jinx)

The Dullahan

((( for that is what it is, even if described better by the terms - geist, specter, ghostywoahsty, or any number of other more specific descriptions of a primarily spiritual being; the equipment is rather secondary, truthfully )))

proceeds to offer little humor in response to the outstretching of Jinx's arms, observing the being with as much visible cognizance as any might proceed to offer.

"Rarely does loss discriminate,
even against those who believe they have nothing.

It can be anyone,
it can be anything.

It can even be everything."

There is, perhaps, a certain degree of interest tangibly expressed by the creature, and in its monofocus upon Jinx (without any audible gratitude toward Ambrose's cheering of its general existence), the winds whip away at the very clothes, and the mask, the individual wears.

"Your mask. Any enchanted clothes. Coins.

Or your breath, and all of it regardless.

Choose."

(Reticence)

Nothing to lose?

There's almost a look of pity upon Jinx- to claim that they have nothing to lose already felt as if it were a signature of one having no achievements as if yet, rather than a mark of survival..

After all, who goes on with having nothing whatsoever?

"Wow..."

"Your living must really be not great at all!"

Is it a tease, a testament or merely a fact? Or perhaps even his opinion... but did it truly matter when they claim it on their own? It amused him, still.

There's a quiet chuckle.

But the child, or something that appears to be one, had no bother of being next to such a scenery. An often innocent act could be entirely discarded in the wilds..

Especially when around other creatures of the night.

"Oh! I know!"

"Take the mask. I was curious about the face."
(Ambrose Roche)

"I see. It seems we're at a bit of an impasse then, as all lead to the final choice you've presented."

Jinx would raise a hand towards the side of their gas mask, and touch what apparently was a button. "Begin recording. AMAF gear, second trial. Abrupt field trial, encountered dangerous magical entity."

The suit whirred to life then, a crackle of noise moving along it's entire being. The palm of the gauntlet Jinx wore started to shine a vibrant, glowing pink.

Their off-hand proceeded to reach, and pulled out what appeared to be some sort of canister... Whoever was in the suit seemed to be relying on it, as well as tools! Maybe they didn't even have their own magic?

Jinx moved, pulling the pin then, before letting the canister roll out - Ceremoniously beginning the conflict with a large explosion aimed at the Dullahan!
(Jinx)

"...!"

Trouble afoot. As much as Ambrose was very much interested to watch the outcome, he also knew not to stand in the crossfire. Just in case.

He skips away for a bit, intently observing.
(Ambrose Roche)

The explosion meets a hail of rising, ghastly screeches, suddenly pulled from the breeze and weaved into a swirling torrent of spectral threads, pulling themselves around the poltergeist - or 'dangerous magical entity,' as it has been quite aptly named -

and they rise with emotions that may nevertheless be all too familiar to Jinx's ears. Sensations of loss inflict themselves upon the individual as magical pressure builds, trying to force its way in and under the mask and steal away Jinx's breath. Such a thing is quite safe, of course,

so long as the mask remains upon their face.

"You merely should have paid."
(Reticence)

"If you truly have so little,

then what losses you've had,
have taught you nothing about their nature.

Perhaps some magnanimity might have suited such a lesson better."

The conflict is hard to call so much as that. The magitechnological explosions are quite apparently too weak to properly affect the spiritual being's true essence, even if they smash against its armor to decent volume of fanfare. Jinx, despite halting its advance very effectively for a mage of so relatively little strength, quickly finds themselves overwhelmed by that rising cacophony of ghastly tones, ripping away at their will as it presses against mental and physical defenses alike, riding upon the very air that they breathe and infecting their lungs with particles carrying the curse that steals their breath away.

Coins find the way out from Jinx's pockets, but it's not long before they fly right back at the figure in question; whether this is a sign of generosity or pity matters little in the wake of the simple fact that it quite apparently has tired of such an exchange.

Jinx's words were largely true, after all, were they not? They had so little to lose. What was the point of trying to take more from them?

"We will meet again,
and you will see fit to pay tribute.

For despite knowing loss so well,
you have no respect for it."

The mask remains, fortunately, quite attached despite the compromise of the breathing apparatus. What might have been a final attempt to overcome its strappings or other forms of adhesion sends Jinx tumbling through the trees on a sheet of sharp winds.

It is then, once the matter is completed, that Ambrose earns the Dullahan's attention once more. The child - child? - receives a slow turn of its shoulders, and after a few moments of staring the question,

"Have I done you harm by excluding you from the tribute?"
(Reticence)


They gasped for breath behind the mask, but strangely did not remove it. Instead, they fumbled within their cloak for yet another canister...

"Test results... Failure. Explosive force insignificant. Note: Increase fuel and pressure for more volatility, reinforce pipes- Urk!"

Choking, they'd let the canister roll out once more! This time however, it wasn't a large explosion, but an INCREDIBLY loud and deafening bang, accompanied by a flash of light that could likely be seen from Osrona! It was blinding to behold!

By the time sight and sound were regained, Jinx was gone! Only scorch marks along the ground indicated they had ever been there to begin with...
(Jinx)

Exciting.

There is a certain craving to such things that Ambrose felt- a craving that could not be sated by just hiding and nodding along. His true nature could never be shown in the public, and as such, it only remains to be something that he could occasionally draw in from the others in the wilds.

Or, if he had been lucky, perhaps even experience it personally...

"Ah.."

"I almost forgot how amazing such things feel.."

Hunger. Endless hunger. For there's no knowing just how soon he could experience something like this again. But still..

His gaze turns to the Dullahan nearby. He smiles.

"Nope!"

"She was boring, anyway... tried to be aggressive at first - but soon backed off."

"Ah... I wish she just attacked.."

Odd. Ambrose is most definitely not a simple child, and it shows.
(Ambrose Roche)

". . ."

The silence is a tangible thing, maybe.
It is nevertheless something which accompanies the spirit's attentions toward a figure that had passed them, and with that attention's passing comes the Dullahan's necessity to express,

"I will speak with you again.

But first, I must find that man.
I must speak with him.
I must return what he has given me."

The ordinariness or lack thereof that Ambrose happens to have is, of course, something that an unliving creature rarely pays all too much mind thereto. Perhaps it is observed, and perhaps it is judged, but it is neither mentioned nor focused upon.

"We will meet again.

Goodbye."

... maybe not the best conversationalist, either. Unfortunate?
(Reticence)

A smile.

They would most definitely meet again, or so Ambrose feels. Besides, this one always wanders the wild, always searching for something in particular. It's only a matter of time until the likes of him become accustomed to the creatures of the night.

After all, what better way than this to meet them?

"Best of luck!"

"And yes, we will meet. See you!"

He gives a wave. Energetic, almost even thrilled after the recent bout.

Just like that, he's off somewhere. No doubt to find trouble again.
(Ambrose Roche)