Logs:The Feu Follet Fandangle
The Feu Follet Fandangle
|Characters:||Jeanie. Nia, and Seth|
|Summary:||A chance meeting at night in the bayou turns into some ghost-hunting.|
One might think that bayou cleanup would usually be done during daylight and that would mostly be right, if New Orleans didn't get ridiculously humid during the day. There is at least one volunteer out on the banks of Bayou Savage dedicated enough to still be cleaning up trash, complete with little grabber thing and a headband flashlight and that would be Jeanie, currently humming as she continues filling up the already pretty heavy bag.
Having no need for light, Nia is out in her boat without one. A little pirogue just off the banks of the lake, slowly paddling through kudzu and algae. Why is she out here? Who knows, maybe returning from some errand and taking the scenic route home to the bayou via Lake Pontchartrain. Either way, she spies Jeanie and her flashlight, and deliberately smacks her paddle against the surface of the water to make noise, lifting her hand to greet the other woman if she looks over.
The beam of Jeanie's flashlight falls first on a quaint wicker picnic basket containing some books and a re-purposed wine bottle, and then on a man laying against a colorful green-and-gold patterned blanket staring up at the night sky through the branches of the bayou's bald cypress trees in the dark. Seth is dressed simply in dark cargo shorts and a black tank-top with a stencil of Iron Man and the Marvel logo upon it, and he looks over to the side as the flashlight illuminates the area he's set himself up in.
"Oh, hey," he offers up by way of greeting to Jeanie, raising up a whiskey tumbler full of blood in her direction before taking a drink from it and setting it back down inside the picnic basket. He's got a thick leather-bound book open in his lap, pages flipped to somewhere towards the end, and his left hand holds the leaves open. The flashlight's hot-white glow illuminates Egyptian hieroglyphics with English subtext on the pages.
It's not that Seth was surprised by Jeanie's approach: the flashlight beam and the clack-clack of the grabber were obvious, but he had been enjoying the quiet. "Out here to get some time away too, Miss Fontaine?"
Bayou Savage might be kind of a public park, but the fact that her flashlight beam hits a picnic basket does have Jeanie jump a little in surprise, although she lets out a little ahhh of comprehension when she sees who it is that decided to have a night-time picnic read under the moonlight. She gives a smile and a wave of her little grabber stick to the vampire. "Just out here doing my good deed for the day." Or several good deeds. The sound of paddle splashing the water gets her attention though, flashlight sweeping the water not quite hitting Nia and her piroque but definitely in the direction. "What was that?"
"It be a woman, a boat," comes a brief reply from the direction of the lake. Jeanie might recognise the voice - that Cajun accent is quite thick and distinctive. Helpfully, Nia paddles a bit closer to the shore, towards the beam of light from Jeanie's headlamp. She casts a vaguely curious look Seth's way, but doesn't address or ask anything of him yet.
"It's a-" and then a voice comes out of the darkness to finish Seth's observation towards Jeanie as his shadowed eyes flick in the direction of the new waterborne arrival. He clicks his tongue against his teeth. "That, yes," he supplies less helpfully, sitting up on his picnic blanket and closing the book with a thunk. The heavy, forearm-sized tome is also dropped back into the pile of books in the picnic basket with a delicate slide, and Seth glances between them. "Popular out tonight. Isn't the wildlife here supposed to be dangerous? I've been hearing stories of all the weird things that lurk in the Louisiana wilderness at night..." A sardonic half-grin quirks the corner of Seth's mouth. "I suppose that's us, then." His palms come to rest on his knees as he settles forward into a cross-legged sitting position. "What brings a woman out by moonlight?" He inquires of the approaching boat, voice raised enough to carry over the still, inky-black waters. It doesn't take much, over the chirping of cicadas and call of night birds, to echo in the night air.
"Oh, oooooh!" Jeanie does recognize the voice and the boat that comes closer, and she gives a an enthusiastic wave to the woman in it. "Hello, again! Not sure if Ramsey ever caught up with you, but he was meaning to say thanks for the fish." Which is clearly a very normal thing to say when running into people unexpectedly in a swamp by moonlight. Seth's observation about the wildlife gets a bit of a laugh. "They also say the wildlife is generally more scared of you than you are of it. Unless it's a big gator. But don't go splashing about near the water and usually you're all good." Which might explain why the law student's evening cleaning rounds have been staying a good ways back from the bank just in case.
"Him welcome," Nia replies to Jeanie with a brief nod. Apparently no, Ramsey hadn't come by to offer his thanks, but she doesn't seem bothered by this. Nor, it seems, is she bothered by the idea of being gator-chow, otherwise surely she wouldn't be out in a relatively small boat like this. Maybe she's gator-proof, or just really brave and/or dumb. Who knows. To Seth's question, Nia frowns slightly, then allows, "I be fishin'." Though not _right_ now, a keen nose might catch the scent of fresh fish from a bucket in the bottom of her pirogue. "Sometime be easier for catch him poisson."
"Night fishing. Hm." Seth ponders, then nods agreeably, "That's not a bad idea. Perhaps I ought to get myself a boat and try it." What would he /do/ with the fish? Who knows. But it's not about the reward, anyway. But now he's bundling up the picnic blanket in worksmanlike fashion and closing up the top of the picnic basket (as far as it'll go, anyway, a few books stick out) before sliding the blanketroll in through the loop of the handle. "Big gators are aggressive?" This does get Seth's attention. "In the Nile, the crocodiles get over a thousand pounds sometimes. Some of my crazier kin used to try wrestling them for sport, made a big betting circle about it."
Perhaps it's ennui, or some other trait of the reminiscence, but Seth's demeanor grows distant for a moment. "Been a while since I've gone and done that," he notes to himself absentmindedly, his eyes searching the water thoughtfully. "Maybe soon." A blink of consideration, lost to the murky evening's veil. "Anything like that around here?"
"Don't you have a boat?" Jeanie can't help but wonder after having seen a riverboat that supposedly the vampire is in partial possession of. As for big gators, she gives a bit of a shrug. "I believe Nia over there might be able to give you a better idea of how most swamp creatures behave... I was just always taught give 'em a wide berth. Better safe than sorry. And I kinda like all my limbs." She wiggles the fingers on one hand that unlike SOME people present, she definitely wouldn't be able to grow back. As for gator wrestling, she frowns a little bit. "I haven't seen any... but it definitely sounds like something that could happen."
"Mais, seven, maybe six hundred," Nia replies to Seth as to the weight of the gators locally. She raises her brows as he mentions a thousand-pounder, seeming vaguely disbelieving. But then again, maybe the gators of the Nile are naturally larger. She flashes a brief smile at Jeanie when she mentions the behaviour of animals in the bayou, though doesn't offer any clarity on that point. "Jeanie. You an' him boy need meat? Got boar, him be cut yesterday. Many meat."
"I have a couple of boats.. oh, the Regas? Yeah, she is fancy, and I own her on paper, through a subsidiary company. Kinda co-opted by the local Praxis, though, for the social functionality. Been thinking of donating her to a separate charitable foundation, getting something more personal-sized. It's a lot of paperwork to manage, after all." Seth offers a brief smile in Jeanie's direction at the quip, despite his more detail-oriented answer the humor of the observation was not lost. A glance between Nia and Jeanie, on the topic of boar, and Seth lapses into thought before looking back to the Cajun woman.
"My name is Seth," he offers up in English, before taking on in fluent French, "A pleasure to meet you, miss." He doesn't cut too much of a figure in the dim moonlight, picnic basket under one arm, as he strolls along the edge of the waterline.
"Kind of would be foolish not to have at least some sort of LLC set up for something as big as the Regas," Jeanie is at least grinning at the very detailed answer which she finds very reasonable. "Always best to limit your own personal liability in case of any maritime misadventures." At the mention of Praxis though, her eyes (and headlamp) do shoot over towards Nia in her boat. She laughs a little at the suggestion of the meat. "I don't really need any, don't eat it myself, but pretty sure he would love some. And if you need anything fixed up... be willing to trade." The Fixers can live up to their name after all.
The mention of praxis goes right over Nia's head. She doesn't know what it is, or indeed what Seth is, and so she takes no notice of it. She does nod to Jeanie when she mentions the potential for trade if Ramsey would be interested in some very fresh pig, and then she turns her gaze to Seth when he starts to speak in French. She responds in the same language, her French much less broken than her English. "Nia. You too, probably." After all, he _is_ a bit strange, reading out here in the dark with only the moonlight.
The impromptu boar haggling gets a raised eyebrow out of Seth, although the nuances of his expression are largely lost to the ambient light, or lack thereof. The 'probably' provokes a short, subdued laugh, and then he's looking over towards Jeanie. "Agreed, entirely. Delegation is all about giving your headache to someone else, after all."
And then he's stepping towards the tree-line of this little clearing curiously, his head canting to the side as if he were listening to something. Maybe it's the sudden rise of a wind that's beginning to blow through the trees here again, or the abrupt quiet as most of the night-time bugs fall quiet in their incessant chirping. He inhales a slow breath, not to steady himself but rather to smell the air of the swamp, growing distracted from their immediate social pleasantries.
Since everybody else is doing the French thing, Jeanie switches as well, definitely not the most fluent speaker present but she's at least passable. "If you have a phone, I can give you my number... or if not, you can leave a note where you left the fish? He goes out to tend the territory most everyday." The turn of phrase is definitely odd but might be able to be brushed off for just her not-native-speakingness. The shift in the wind however seems to send a chill down her back as she shivers, looking further into the swampy woods. "Something is singing out there..." Something not quite in the mortal plane.
"So you don't eat meat?" Nia wonders of Jeanie, curious about that given the company she keeps. "I don't have a phone. I know where a payphone is, but it's a bit of a trek." Or a paddle, at least. "I can leave a note, though." She nods once, then looks to Seth again as he takes a slow breath of that fetid air, full of the smell of rotting things. Back to the other woman and she frowns a little as Jeanie mentions singing. "Don't listen to the fifolet. Definitely don't follow them." It probably comes as no surprise that, being a swamp-dweller, she might be familiar with the tricks of the bayou's less kind denizens.
Seth's interest is actively sparked at the change in the wind. Though it's impossible to see in the shadows of the bayou, his irises turn black as pitch, revealing the unseen to him. His stillness is a sign of vigil as he looks around with broad sweeps of his gaze, taking in the world again as if he were seeing it for the first time while turning on the ball of his heel dug into the soft mud underfoot. "Are they hostile?" he asks aside to Nia, voice far more animated than its normal polished social graces previously. 'This is new,' his excitement says, washing away the world-weariness that had previously burdened him. A brief glance in Jeanie's direction after the mention of singing, and he casually opens up the top of his picnic basket again, though he doesn't remove anything yet.
"I don't, no. But there are plenty of vegetables to eat," Jeanie answers Nia plainly enough with a smile. "And I'll make sure he looks out for notes then." There's a nod as the promise of potential boar will definitely make the werewolf more than willing to check for said notes. As the smell gets more pungent, the phantom singing louder, and a few faint lights begin to appear among the spanish moss, she shifts her trash grabber to the hand with the trash bag, the other going to brush against a charm on her bracelet, almost as if rubbing for good luck. "Feu-follet, said to be souls sent back from the dead to do penance, but often acting out of vengeance. Not the most friendly, at least not in folk tales. Haven't had a run in with that particular type of spirit before though. Or ghost, rather." Important distinction for some.
There's a brief shrug to Seth as he asks Nia that question, and she nods towards Jeanie when the other woman provides an answer. "At the very least, it is very easy to get lost and drown while trying to follow them," she supplies. "I don't know if they have malicious intent, though it sounds like they might." Looking uneasy, she takes up her paddle. "I'm going to head home. Be safe, both of you."
"I'll be safe, probably," Seth agrees in Nia's direction with an amiable wave towards her departing boat, probably lost in the darkness again. But he makes the effort. Then he's looking aside over to Jeanie as he discusses the details of the feu-follet, humming thoughtfully and with interest. "Are they supposed to take the shape of actual fire?" Seth has switched back to English at this point. "Or is that just a consequence of the folk tale?" The only person with a boat has departed, so any investigation further is going to have to be on foot. The vampire doesn't look like he minds, stepping out of his sandals and knocking them together to get the mud off before also placing them in the picnic basket, overtop a blanket so they don't muss the books. Bare feet have much better traction here, anyway.
"I suppose my real question is, are they just wildlife or a pest that actively needs exterminating?" A tilt of Seth's head follows. "My house isn't /that/ far away from this place and I'd rather not have them harassing my guests, if it comes down to that."
Jeanie gets 4 successes on an Occult roll on the Feu-Follet.
Jeanie nods slowly, fully agreeing with Nia and as the other woman makes to depart, she gives a wave. "And you, as well." She keeps an eye on those faint dancing flames while listening for Nia's boat paddling to get out of ear shot, breathing just slightly easier when she does. "Troublesome, yes. Some accounts have them as being less violent, but the danger of luring the unsuspecting into the water to drown is very real. And that song..." It's louder now. Hauntingly sweet, although the lyrics are definitely darker as they sing about time and sorrow and troubles that just won't go. "There hasn't been any unusual rises in disappearances around here lately but, if we can convince them to go somewhere else, that might be best. I've had some success in convincing ghosts elsewhere in the past."
"Hm," Seth agrees with a brief nod in Jeanie's direction after her discussion of the topic. "Normally I would say that we could simply dispel them, but..." His head cants to the side as he listens to the singing as well, the fingers of his free hand flexing and curling into a fist before moving apart again. "I have not yet recovered the ancient rites that would let me strike them directly." A glance aside at the picnic basket. "More corporeal training to actually hit certain fast-moving serial killers took precedence, but..." A roll of his shoulders as he looks towards the ghosts. "Spirit-trapping is not my specialty, but if you require muscle to deal with them, I can manage something." Ht doesn't cut the most intimidating silhouette, bare-footed and carrying a picnic basket full of books in the looming shadows of the Bayou, but there is a certain chill in Seth's eyes as he regards the imminent presence of the singing will o' wisp that has drifted there way among the towering, moss-covered trees.
"If we can't talk them away, luckily for you I do have my own not so ancient rites," Jeanie smiles a bit at this. "I don't really have anything to consecrate at the moment, but guess this could do?" She holds up the trash grabber as she sets down the trash bag with a shrug. "I'll come back for that." Spiritual clean up, then physical one. She's got some priorities. And she definitely seems hesitant to move towards the water, edging along the bank instead towards the trees, taking the long way 'round.
Reaching into the picnic basket, Seth withdraws a matte black Glock pistol from the bottom, followed by a suppressor's cylindrical tube, which he sets about screwing onto the firearm while balancing the picnic basket's handle onto the crook of his elbow. "If you consecrate this when it gets dangerous, I can take care of them," the Vampire says with a quirk of his mouth, a bit sheepish at his own inability in the spirit-slaying regard. "What I get for watching too many Krav Maga videos and not focusing enough on the old rites," he observes with self-deprecating humor and a compress of his lips. "I'll take point, it's the least I can do," what with his supernaturally healing body and that. "I thought to myself, 'the only spirit I need to kill needs a proper punching in the face so I should deal with that first,' and lo and behold," he upnods in the direction of the trees they're approaching, bare feet occasionally squelching in the mud as he walks, "Something pops out to prove me wrong. Typical."
Jeanie blinks in a bit of disbelief as Seth pulls out both Glock and suppressor from his picnic basket. "Do you always picnic armed?" But it is a better suggestion than the trash stick which she tosses back over to wait with the trash back for later pick up. She lets out a little dry laugh at his attempt at self-deprecating. "Unfortunately, this is New Orleans... there's never just one spirit. Or apparently even just one type of ephemeral being lurking around the next corner. Or bayou." If they WERE on a mission to collect or fight them all, they'd be well on their way! She nods at the suggestion of letting him take lead, staying a few steps behind the vampire, both in case of ghosts, but also more mundane threat of possible gators. The lights grow stronger now, the smell of swamp gas even stronger. And within the fires there seems to be flickering forms vaguely humanoid in shape.
"I am supposed to be enforcement, I go everywhere armed. Only reason it's in the picnic basket and not on my person is that I went swimming earlier." Seth observes with an amused look at the trash grabber as he finishes fitting the silenced pistol together. "As entertaining as it would be to tell that story to the fresh bloods about how I disciplined a ghost with a trash grabber, I'd probably just end up making a fool of myself. I'd have better luck with a consecrated bit of cloth around my knuckles, mm?" He considers the thought before smirking briefly. "Bruce Lee as an exorcist would be a hell of a spin-off." Someone's been watching Enter the Dragon lately. "Noted, however. Naive of me to think I could get a vacation from ghosts by going out into the dark swamp in the middle of the night. I should practically have donned a pointy hat and brought a broomstick."
Tilting his head to the side, Seth's upper lip has curled in disdain at the flickering fire as they slowly approach the source of illumination. His eyes briefly sweep to the right and note a dilapidated building half-sunk into the water among the trees, roof covered in moss and growing vines where it emerges from beneath the murky still water of the bayou. "Wonder if this is one of those old villages that got lost to time and floods," he ponders out loud, turning his attention back towards the humanoid flames. There is a distinct wariness in Seth's eyes: he doesn't have a great relationship with fire even on the best of days, and a ghost whose intangible substance seems fire-based inclines him towards giving the thing a wide berth. "...feel free to talk to it first, I'd rather not punch that," he appends towards Jeanie with a sideward glance and a slight turn of his head towards her as he speaks.
"Pretty sure I've seen that movie, or at least part of it," Jeanie might only be half joking. Kung Fu movie night is a tradition! And possible training tool. As they walk across the ruins, she's keeping more of her attention on the flickering ghostly flame, but she does give a nod. "This was a plantation once upon a time... hopefully they aren't ghosts from then. Old ghosts tend to be powerful ghosts..." She's weary as well when the feu-follets singing stops they flickering forms settle into two distinct spirits, both staring at the incoming pair, one's smile turning into something wicked. "Omer... our song has worked again." Voice that was once sweet now seems as if made of razors, Jeanie raising her hands to her ears instinctively. "I'm not so sure talking is going to work with them... I have a bad feeling." Bad enough she's already muttering a few phrases in Latin while staring at Seth's gun.
Jeanie gets 7 successes to consecrate the handgun.
Seth doesn't need to be told twice, as flame-ghosts are something deeply antithetical to his very existence. He's certainly not enthusiastic about letting them get any closer to him than absolutely necessary, even if the flames aren't something that the spirits can actually weaponize. Seth raises up the gun sideways, not understanding the metaphysics of Jeanie's Latin chant but attempting to be helpful anyhow. It has to work in order for the bullets to piece ethereal corpus, anyhow. Once he's got the go-ahead that the consecration is finished, however, Seth raises up the weapon and takes aim with his midnight-black eyes. His face is lit by the rising intensity of the ghost-flames in green and purple, casting his pallid flesh in a strange hue and reflecting off the inky, solid blackness that is his eyes.
In French, Seth speaks towards the spirits with the knife-sharp voices, "Your duet's up, time to go." He levels the long suppressor at the end of the Glock towards the spirit that had been speaking, pulling the trigger as soon as the shot is aligned.
Seth gets 1 success to shoot the Lady Ghost.
The feu-follet that had been speaking didn't expect to be shot and while Seth's bullet only wings the female-looking of the ghosts, it does do a flicker of damage and it's with a shriek she hurls some of that ghostly light towards the vampire, also just barely hitting as she hisses. "Omer!!! They think they can fight us!" There is a snort from the larger of the ghosts who reaches out to Jeanie trying to do something and yet... there must be some forces of protection at work because whatever numina he had attempted to call just flickers out.
As for the psychic herself? Jeanie takes a deep breath and summons up sparks from the very air, circling around her as a sort of halo of electricity. A safety blanket almost if you will. "We can, and we will."
Lady Ghost deals 1 lethal damage to Seth with a Blast of ectoplasm. Omer attempts to drain Jeanie and fails.
Jeanie gets 3 successes to manifest a psychokinetic Corona.
As the bullet from Seth's gun barely manages to influence the shrieking lady-ghost, the Vampire tsks with annoyance, an angry smile on his face with fangs extended. "Are you serious?" He mutters, half to himself and half to the gun. The blast of caustic ectoplasm strikes him and burns the bare skin of his left arm, charring the pallid flesh black in strange, patterned stripes where it sticks on. Seth looks at the wound with anger, something in his Beast rising up to the surface. Then he's tensing his legs and leaping forwards across the loamy mud of the bayou, half-running and half-springing to his destination.
Seth lands by the female ghost with a bending of his knees, holding the gun by the barrel and pistol-whipping the ghost with it. Hot blood pumps through the dead muscles of his arm, applying the hysterical strength of vampiric Vigor to the blow in a strike potent enough to crack her corporeal skull in half.
With a shriek, the ghost dissipates away, but Seth's Udjat-driven black eyes can still spot her flickering essence reforming in the Twilight realm on the other side of the veil, insubstantial and tentative. His lips spread once more into a grin as he speaks in French towards the spirit, "We're not finished yet." He glances over his shoulder briefly to ascertain Jeanie's situation, but seeing that she's not in immediate danger, he turns back towards his ectoplasmic prey.
Seth deals a total of 8 lethal with a Vigor-assisted pistol whip to the lady ghost.
No, they aren't finished yet. That's at least one thing that both Seth and the feu agree on as even from twilight she tries to fling more of her ghostly flames at the vampire that so rudely pistol whipped her away. "You come into OUR SWAMP!!!" She's possessive that one. Omer isn't too forgiving either. And the mortal in front of him had clearly did something to the gun used to dispatch his friend and so he reaches out, despite the risk of electric bane, and manages to suck something away from Jeanie, the woman screams a little as he does so, turning a bit paler but somehow also more determined. That electricity she summoned isn't just for show and she tosses out a hand and hurls a bolt at the feu in front of her, dispatching a considerable bit of his fiery form, but he's not gone just yet.
The lady ghost Blasts Seth for another point of lethal, and Omer drains 4 of Jeanie’s Willpower points. Jeanie inflicts 4 lethal damage with Psychokinesis and 2 damage passively with her Corona.
The shouting and the ghostly flames only make Seth angrier, as ectoplastmic burns eat away at his tank-top and melt more of the flesh on his chest. "Finder's keepers, and you're dead," Seth retorts coldly, stepping forward to swing the pistol again like a club. It's less effective, this time, only glancing off the ghost-woman's shoulder, but the force of his muscles keeps on tearing through her dematerialized corpus and inflicting significantly more damage than the passing blow would suggest.
Seth glances over his shoulder at the lightning-filled scuffle between Jeanie and the other ghost, calling out over the crackles and pops of electricity, "You alright over there?"
Seth deals a total of 4 lethal with another Vigor-augmented pistol whip.
"I'm fine!" Jeanie yells back even though she really isn't, wincing back as the feu-foillet is reaching through her electric shield again as if to try to steal her will... and succeeding. She's looking very drained as she manages to pull back just long enough to start whispering a few more phrases in latin and gathering what mental resources she has left and it's enough to break away whatever was fettering the ghost, casting him back in twilight. "But uhhh... can you see them?" She can hear them, but seeing is another matter entirely.
Jeanie gets 6 successes on a contested Abjuration of Omer, who resist with 2 successes.
Raising up his pistol in the direction of the fleeing female ghost as she gathers herself up in the Twilight, ghost-flames flickering like fluorescent lights in and out of existence in that adjacent place, Seth responds to Jeanie's question by pulling the trigger and firing a shot. A loud shriek that fills the Twilight and even crosses over into audible territory in the mundane realm raises up a powerful wind, whipping the branches of the trees and sending waves stirring across the black glassy surface of the bayou water. The bullet pieces cleanly through the central essence core of the reforming lady ghost, blasting it in all directions and dissolving her corpus once and for all. Once the noise dies down, Seth lowers the pistol a bit, turning back towards Jeanie with a glance before his eyes start scanning for where Omer, the other ghost, went. "Yep, I can see them," he responds, deadpan.
Seth fires and deals 5 lethal to the Twilight form of the lady ghost, slaying her.
As the shriek fills twilight and the winds whip up, Jeanie covers her ears and closes her eyes for a brief moment before looking over towards Seth and his deadpan and she gives a little nod. And while she might not be able to see wherever it was she sent Omer, she senses he's still close enough and she draws herself up and nearly growls out a warning. "Run, feu. Run while you can." Jeanie gets 1 success on an Intimidation roll to encourage Omer to flee the losing situation.
It doesn't take much to convince someone who just watched their companion die to flee, and Seth spots the lingering feu-follet near Jeanie, freshly discorporated and flung into the Twilight. Her growl would be more amusing and less scary if she wasn't covered in crackling electricity that just fried a ghost... But Seth isn't inclined to let Omer flee unchallenged even though the ghost decide that discretion is the better part of valor and begins to flee rapidly.
Raising up the pistol again, Seth blinks out of existence with an abrupt shudder of movement, reappearing instantly almost twenty yards away - in between the larger ghost and his escape route, his gun upraised. Without preamble, Seth pulls the trigger, another high-pitched suppressed gunshot echoing off the tree-line and squarely slamming into the ghost's heart... if he had a heart. The consecrated bullet rips through the Twilit corpus, burying itself in a collapsed building some ten yards behind the ghostly silhouette that Seth's Udjat-black eyes can see.
Seth uses Celerity to reposition for a clean shot on Omer and deals 6 lethal to the unmanifested ghost with the consecrated pistol, slaying him as well.
Jeanie honestly didn't expect the growl to do much good. She's pretty much at the end of her own rope, even her electric shield flickering out conveniently after the feu-follet turns to run. She doesn't exactly relax though... not being able to see where it's going and also blinking as Seth does the whole creepy vampire teleportation thing followed by the suppressed shot ringing out. She waits until the echo dies out before she remembers the whole breathing thing is required, for her anyways, and takes a deep breath before tentatively asking, "So... that's it?"
Watching the flickering will o' wisp burn out on the other side of the Twilight, Seth exhales slowly. "Yeah, that's it," he agrees, beginning to unscrew the silencer from the pistol again. He glances aside at Jeanie, then down to the gun. "Thanks, that blessing was really clutch." The silencer is slipped away into one pocket of his cargo pants which is buttoned over, and then the pistol's safety is flipped and he puts it in an empty holster underneath his shirt, near the small of his back. A weary exhale passes across his lips as he turns back towards Jeanie, tensing his legs and leaping over a shallow channel of water to land a few yards away from her. "Two less ghosts for New Orleans, anyway," he remarks wryly as he raises up his left arm with a hiss of clenched teeth, willing the dead flesh to start repairing the ectoplasmic burn marks on his skin. It doesn't salvage the damaged tank-top, though, which has been burned through in a few spots.
Jeanie relaxes ever so slightly when the vampire confirms that the ghosts are indeed gone, giving a nod of her head. The compliment for the blessing gets a smile though. "I guess we can call this a bit of a practice run? Blessing guns does indeed work, in case the wedding ring banes done. Psychic electricity, also effective. Although I wouldn't recommend whatever the hell it was he was doing. Like he was grabbing at my soul or something." She rubs a bit at her chest even if there were no actual marks left upon her. "Thank you. That would have been... difficult. On my own." More like impossible.
"I'll bring a much bigger gun next time," Seth agrees with the thought of blessing firearms as a backup plan. Stretching as his flesh knits itself back together into scars that gradually fade away into nothing, Seth hisses through clenched fangs as the pain gradually resides from his rapid regeneration. Then he looks back up at Jeanie. "Takes two to tango, I couldn't have killed them without a weapon capable of harming them. I guess I need to stop putting off the rites," Seth mutters. "Well, a little bit longer, first."
Nodding upwards in the direction of the treeline, Seth glances to Jeanie before he says, "My own home isn't too far away from here either. Hidden out in the swamps. Taking care of this is also cleaning up my backyard. If you need any other muscle around here... well, you've got my number." A beat, then Seth inhales slowly. "Once this angel business is done, I think I'm going to spend more time out here in nature than I have been. I could use a vacation."
Curiousity may have killed the cat, but hopefully it won't kill the Jeanie today. Practice with trying to avoid watching werewolves regenerating for her own sanity at least keeps her from staring as Seth knits his flesh back together, but she can't help but tilt her head up at the mention of rites again. "What sort of rite would that be? For a Kindred? The Uratha's pack rites draw upon the Shadow, but it wouldn't be the same thing, right? And the gun thing, that depends upon a human's soul and integrity." She's gotten quite a bit of occult knowledge in a short time, but still always trying to piece together more when she's able. She nods at the mention of having his number. "And my pack's territory isn't too far away either, in North Kenilworth. Spend a lot of time out on the bayou as well. When there aren't spirits or angels or ghosts acting up, or gator-monsters, it's pretty nice." That's a lot of ifs, but it's a crazy world they live in. "And if you're serious about the gator wrestling, I might know somebody that could arrange it. Once angel business is done."
"Different kind of Darkness, but yes, something specific to my blood," Seth agrees with a nod, picking at one of the damaged straps of his tanktop before turning to begin walking in the direction that they left Jeanie's trashbag, picnic basket still in the crook of one of his arms. "My lineage hunted creatures in the dark, spirits among them. I've been putting off the Old Ways in exchange for merely upping the gifts of my Blood and combat prowess, thinking I could rely upon my allies to slay any more ethereal creatures for the moment... but once again I find myself questioning the wisdom of that decision."
Seth inhales of the swamp air, still alert enough and scanning over the long dark of the bayou as he walks. His path is audible squelches in the mud, bare feet sinking a few inches in with each step, though he easily powers through the restricting effects. "I'm... not sure about the gator wrestling. We can discuss it further after the serial killing angel is taken care of, I agree. So far, she's gone to ground, but she'll have to come to us eventually. I've put measures in place for when she does."
"Well, bayou neighbor, it's been an unexpected pleasure to run into you out here," Seth speaks with a short laugh. "Good to have someone else out here to help clean up."Jeanie reclaims both trashbag and trash grabber, she's no litter bug although she's not going to be collecting any more trash tonight and fastens the bag shut. As he explains a bit about the rites, she gives a nod. "It seems best to have a wide arsenal. You never really know what problems you'll run into and what might end up being the answer. One of the reasons why there is strength in numbers. Each person brings their own particular combination of gifts and they can often enhance each other." As for the hesitation on gator wrestling, she gives a nod. "Fair enough. Would be a shame to wrestle just a normal gator anyways. Not like he would have been asking to wrestle, could have just wanted to mind his gator business. But... it's definitely been a night. I'll stop by the Regas again in a couple days, touch up those wards again. And if you run into any more ephemeral problems well... you also have my number." With a wave, she and her trashbag are off.