[hr][hr][center][img]http://i1289.photobucket.com/albums/b518/ThetaOswin/Altsoba%20Update_zpsmrjzomag.png[/img][/center][hr][center][@Witch Cat] [@Lady Amalthea] [@BlueSky44] [@Pundii] [@Nallore][/center][hr][hr]Some of the best things -- people, even -- are accidents. Without any method of knowing the outcome, little miracles can occur, blessings void of any disguise. Such was the case at Number 3 Grant Road, in which Daniyal, a witch damned to burn in hell, performed a small miracle. Rather than die in vain, the boy decided to right his wrong, to sacrifice himself. Unwittingly, Daniyal fulfilled the requirements of an ancient spell. Most call it the spell of [url=http://supernatural.wikia.com/wiki/Virgin_Sacrifice_spell]virgin sacrifice[/url], a spell that not only banishes demons, but destroys them. It requires that the heart be cut out, yet that's the thing with spells, they're slippery and likely designed by attorneys, filled with loopholes. Daniyal's heart was cut out with the death of his mother. And even more miraculously, the spell reached a range of one mile. The explosion blew out the windows of each and every house in the residential area, the noise traveling and echoing throughout the entire town. In small towns, they say news travels fast--explosions travel even faster. To an observer, it would be like a spreading ring of purifying fire, freeing those within a mile radius from demonic possession. Are you able to feel that, the momentary pause in an onslaught of evil? Or are you oblivious to the brief respite? But will it have been enough, my children? Midnight has struck, and the darkness grows thicker with each and every passing moment. Some of you will survive the rest of this horrid night--others will be found days later, their bodies rotting and swarmed with insects. Take care, my dears, and know that it is not without reason the fear the darkness... [center][color=00ccff][b]<>[/b][/color][/center] [@Pundii]: Sariel smiles softly, not raising her eyes at all. As the explosion faintly echoes from Daniyal's spell, she finally moves. "A blow has been dealt to the demons, Prophet. Record your visions and rest, for all you see shall come to pass." She doesn't seem to be opposed to answering your questions, but she hasn't moved either. Sancho, for one, doesn't like the angel stalker. Funny that. [@Nallore]: Whatever sacrifices you made to LLA must have worked, as Sam lucked out! The instant she approaches Jessica, she gets a better glimpse of [url=http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcygyo5L4z1rw24b4.jpg]her[/url]. There's definitely something wrong going on there. The demon doesn't attack Sam, however, and instead simply vanishes. Teleporting, beam me up Scotty level of shit. It's now just you and a barking dog, standing in the parking lot of Aunt Sue's Inn. [@Lady Amalthea]: The dog is still barking, but after a soft knock on the room and a brief moment's pause, Mrs. Hudson comes in with a fresh cup of tea. She looks at the window with dismay, recognizing the dog. "I'm so sorry, dear, I've tried calling her owner but she won't pick up the phone...Adriana must be caught up on one of her tours." She continues to prattle on, talking about how Adriana let her dog roam while she was working, as she was a tour guide at the Haunted in Seattle Underground tour. She hadn't been quite herself since her reporter friend, John, died as well. Something's haunting the poor thing, Mrs. Hudson concludes. [@Witch Cat]: The explosion from Daniyal's death is echoing throughout the town, and while it may be fainter at Aunt Sue's, the echoes are loud enough. Belial locks the door and shuts the blinds, before giving Sylvia an almost comforting warmth. It's an unnatural sweetness from her spirit guide, but the intent behind it is obvious. The witch, the supposed prophet that Sylvia wanted to track down, had perished. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ffcc]Aloise Zamora[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/5608e5e4c878fbe04ec4267ec3772d29/tumblr_inline_n9we1np8S51rwt71l.gif[/img][/center][hr][center]Location: On the Road in Oregon Interacting With: The Radio[/center][hr][hr]Aloise had made her way through most of the armed forces' songs, ending with her personal favorite: The U.S. Air Force. Had she not been a marine, she would've joined the Air Force, purely for the whimsy she felt each time she sang that song. Of course, that wasn't to say that her singing voice was a particularly [i]good[/i] one. It had the prowess and expertise of a child at their first recital, belting Hot Cross Buns at the top of their lungs. However, rather than the sweeping arms of a conductor cutting her off, it was the static of the radio. Aloise began to slow the car, reaching for the shotgun in the seat next to her, the machete by its side. Her eyes flickered around the car, expecting some ghost or some phantom. Instead, she could only hear static coming from the radio. Banging her hand against it, the static only remained just as prominent. Biting her lip, Aloise brought the car to a halt, putting on the parking break. She strained her hearing, only to make out a single word this time, amongst the static. [i][color=red]"Beware."[/color][/i] Frowning slightly, she did a quick visual inspection of the car, seeing no sudden changes in lighting or cold spots. [color=00ffcc]"What do you mean, beware?"[/color] Aloise asked simply, her grip on the shotgun tightening. The radio shut off. [color=00ffcc]"What are you trying to warn me about?"[/color] Aloise asked, clicking the safety off. There was no reply. She sighed, salting the majority of her car for good measure, and checking for any EMF readings. Nothing was there. Doubting it was all in her head, she came to the conclusion that something didn't want her to go to Altsoba. That, or her hatred of road trips was starting to mess with her head. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#ffcc66]Detective Hanson[/color][/h1][img]http://www.heroesandheartbreakers.com/images/stories/blogarticles/2015/September2015/The-Killing-yin-yang-by-renatamagolithings475x267.gif[/img][hr]Location: Mountain View Cemetery Interacting With: Amy Chang [@Lady Amalthea][/center][hr][hr]Truthfully, the day hadn't gone how Hanson expected it to. He had been waiting for it eagerly to come, having spent months, years even, preparing for it. Old books translated by those with no understanding of any language besides English could only get you so far, and his contact had been banished earlier that day. It had been a genius move on their part, setting her up inside of Vivian. No one noticed the difference when the bitch was possessed. She practically stayed the same. And now, here he was, squished beneath a surgeon. John Moses had turned out to be more than a complication for the detective, especially with his bitch running around. [color=ffcc66]"Sure, sure,"[/color] Hanson agreed, grunting slightly when the explosion shook the air. Of course, it was only a minute later when another explosion rocked the bitter night air, caused by Daniyal's dying curse. The burns on the detective stopped to appear, the bursting boils stopping in their advance. However, they didn't heal. He remained the decidedly most disgusting slightly burnt curly fry in existence. [color=ffcc66]"I'll get you a police escort whenever you want,"[/color] Hanson muttered, chuckling slightly in his pain. [color=ffcc66]"Mind patchin' me up? No more voodoo required."[/color] Had Amy made the correct decision in saving Detective Hanson? [hr][hr][h1][center][color=FA5858]Howard Brighton[/color][/center][/h1][center] [img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/898ff63537478342930bec8b62629144/tumblr_inline_o4bt2oCzkJ1rfmocr_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][center]Location: Forgotten Relics - The Shopping District Interacting With: Darren Andrews [@Pundii], Mitsukuri Katsumi, and Zachary Carpenter[@BlueSky44] [/center][hr][hr]Howard's eyes twinkled, running his hands lightly over the book once more. It was in the same manner a stereotypical villain would stroke a cat, right before revealing their diabolical plan. Not that Howard was evil at heart, of course. He had a natural tendency to come off a bit creepy and he always smiled in a way that inspired those around him to punch him. Blinking, he recoiled at Katsumi decked him, rubbing his face gingerly. [color=FA5858]"You certainly do know how to pack a punch!"[/color] Howard remarked, finishing off his drink. [color=FA5858]"What's your story, little one? You must have one, everyone's got one...But I sense yours is one worth telling."[/color] At Darren's words, however, Howard hardly batted an eye. Many of his volumes were supposedly books of deep and ancient magic, not that he ever cared to enact a spell himself. He merely enjoyed having the wealth of human ingenuity at his fingertips, by far the best collection he ever had set eyes upon. Not many were interested in Howard's line of work, after all. He had heard one person collecting similar texts in Chicago, of course, but he hadn't cared to get into contact with the assuredly charming young woman. [color=FA5858]"The Rise of the Witnesses..."[/color] Howard murmured, thinking through it. Certainly, it was a term he'd come across many times in his readings. It was a fascinating idea, one that he'd spent a good portion of time wondering who came up with the theory. He wasn't a religious man by any means. [color=FA5858]"I'm familiar with that event, but there isn't a spell to stop it, as far as I'm aware...It ends when they complete their slaughter, you see."[/color] He smiled, almost cruelly, but he merely enjoyed to bask in his own wit.