House of Gui

It took some time since the Huns' attack, but the Mountain Village had returned to a state of relative peace and stability.  There was a small number of soldiers from the Imperial Army still stationed there to ensure the peace, but all in all, the citizens were happy and content.  However, not every building in the village was home to a family or was used for the town's benefit.  One building, rather large and ornate, remained devoid of any activity... rather, devoid of any human activity.

It is in front of this building that T.J. finds himself.  After his brief foray to Traverse Town, he wanted to once again travel across the various worlds and find ways to help out those in need.  Looking at it, he feels a slight tingle in his arm, which makes him look down at the arm in question, and the Oni Gauntlet that rests upon it.  "Something's up with that place, isn't it?"

In response, the small lid covering the central orb of the Oni Gauntlet slides back and forth, looking not unlike a blinking eye.

"Figures."  T.J. steps up to the front door and grasps on the handle, only for it to be enveloped by shadowy tendrils.  He gives the handle a few firm pulls, with not even a budge from the door.  "Not gonna make it easy for me to get in, huh?"  A few more pulls reaffirm his suspicion.  This was something that needed more than just him to figure out.

The man in the blindfold walked up the mountain path, his staff akin to a cane in front of him, tapping the ground in front of one foot, then the other, then the other again.

Gregory Zivaku had been spending quite some time by himself. Building things and staying away from trouble had been decent enough, but perhaps not enough for most people. As such, while he was content to do so, he had decided to try some more exploration. Training others was all well and good, but without experience of his own, he would fall behind.

As he walked, he could see the man before him, approaching what seemed to be some form of magical event. His bizarre senses allowed for him to see the way that gauntlet on the man's arm was acting, but he did not see anything intrinsically wrong with a siphon. After all, his own brother was one, after a fashion.

The roaming blacksmith approached, looking at the building, or at least turning his head in its vague direction. It appeared that he may have need to actually help the general populace again. "Well, this seems... unusual."

After a few more jiggles of the door handle to confirm he could get no further on through regular means, T.J. takes the time to look up and see if there was a more unorthodox way to enter, such as via a window around the ground floor or a balcony entrance.  Seeing no balcony and that the windows on the ground floor were patched up so that no light could get in, he prepares to go around to see if there was another door, only to pause when he hears a voice.  Turning, he sees that someone else is there looking at the building... or at least, he was assuming that was what the person was doing, since this guy was wearing a blindfold.

"Um, hello there."  He can feel the tingle in his arm again, one that's more pronounced and even leaving his fingertips numb as he looks at his fellow visitor.  Evidently this person had major magic mojo that the Gauntlet could feel, and since he didn't know who this person was, he'd rather play it safe.  "Apologies.  Just doing some... some investigating."  He squeezes his numbed fingers with his other hand to try and return some feeling to them.  As he does so, he takes a closer look at the guy.  He looked too fanciful to be one of these villagers, and he certainly didn't look like any soldiers of the Imperial Army.  "Take it you're not from around here then."  He nods towards the building.  "Something about this place feels off.  A place like this just being abandoned?  You'd think the Imperial Army would appropriate it at least for any soldiers stationed here... but nothing."

He then pauses to look at a few of the villagers walking around, evidently whispering to one another something he couldn't hear whilst steering clear of the building.  A bit of a disadvantage with his returned humanity was being unable to easily eavesdrop anymore.  Still, he could live with it.  "Even the people who are living here seem like they don't want to be close to it.  And the fact that the front door won't budge... It makes me think something's inside.  Something that's got this place spooked."

Greg turned his head in the direction of the doorway. This stranger was right on all counts, though he likely didn’t need to be told that.

"Judging by the way it is, I wouldn’t be too surprised if there is something within. It may be an overabundance of spirit over body… a haunting? Would need a cleansing… Do you have any means of dealing with spirits, or perhaps yaoguai? There could be any number of impurities…"

The man seemed a bit deep in thought, his cane drawing sigils in the snow… but paused.

"Oh, it is my turn to apologize. I am Greg Zivaku. And you are?"

"Timothy Brackin, though I prefer T.J." He pauses as he looks down at his Oni Gauntlet, before lifting it up. "I think this might be able to do the trick..." He pauses, his face a bit sheepish. "Although I have yet to figure out how it fully works." Looking back at the closed door, and seeing the shadowy tendrils on the handle, he thinks. "Maybe..." He grabs a hold of the door handle and pulls again, confirming it being stuck in place. He lets go, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. He reaches out again, hand touching the handle as the crystalline orb nestled inside of the Gauntlet's main well begins to radiate both light and energy. He opens his eyes, seeing the tendrils dissipate as the dark essence is drawn into the orb. After a few moments, there is no sign of the tendrils anymore.

T.J. pulls on the door handle again, and the door opens unopposed, saved for squeaky hinges. "Well, that worked." He looks back at Greg and stands aside as he holds the door open. "Be my guest."

Greg nodded, his staff tapping the ground before him as he walked closer. He did not look in any direction in particular, or did not appear to in any case.

Instead, he muttered to himself, and his free hand began to trace in the air before him.

What to do, what to do…? Onmyodo? Possible, but I am out of practice…

Deciding against that route, he began drawing a symbol in the air with through the tip of his staff, leaving golden fire hovering before him. First, a circle. Then, what appeared to be an intricate rune, one he crossed, then wrote below, then above. With it still hovering, he pressed his free hand to it, and a pulse emitted through the building before them, a multitude of screeches heard from within.

The spell, meant to cause burns of holy fire on the spirits within, would not impact the living, but would hopefully force the various threats to show themselves, potentially angering them to directly strike rather than hide.

"You may wish to be prepared," the caster acknowledged, the pulsing rune dissipating after his touch. "That will wake the residents up if they are hostile."

T.J. watched Greg as he was casting his spell, seeing the trailing flames that helped to shape the rune into a visible form and the subsequent pulse of energy into the house, as well as hearing the screeches from inside and Greg's comment.  "Yeah, I'm thinking hostile is gonna be the case here."  

Creating a loose fist with his right hand, T.J. feels a cold chill upon said hand as his Oni Gauntlet activates, the central eye of it going pale white as ice begins to coalesce in his right hand before it extends down slightly and up a reasonable length.  He grips tighter, and the ice shatters to reveal an ornate katana is now in his hand.  

"I'll take point."  He guessed that whoever entered the building first would be seen as primary target by whatever was inside, so he was prepared to act as a meat shield just as a precaution in case Greg joined him inside.  

Stepping inside of the abandoned building, T.J. looks around.  As fanciful as the building was outside, the inside was just as ornate as the outside, save for the thick layer of dust permeating much of the decorative pieces.  More screeching is heard as he takes up a defensive position, looking around for any signs of movement.  Without a moment's hesitation, a shifting shape of darkness rushes at him, forcing T.J. to block as the darkness splits against the flat of his katana, reassembling moments later.  More and more of these shadowy forms appear, forming a semi-circle around T.J., forcing him back against a desk.  As his backside presses up against the desk, he grits his teeth... and is launched forward as one of the drawers of the desk shoots forward, slamming against his backside and sending him flying forward.  Landing with a thud, the shadowy beings begin to assault T.J.

Greg let the relative stranger past, as he wished to take point. The blindfolded man seemed ready, and did step forward, through the doorframe.

The shadows began attacking, not as Heartless, but as another form of creature, perhaps a yokai of some sort. While magic was Greg's purview, hunting was that of his brother, as was experience as a doctor. Therefore, he was not entirely aware of what was going on. The best he could tell was that something was possessing an object or perhaps objects nearby, meaning perhaps usage of magic seals could sever the connection, but he would need to directly identify a target first.

Tapping his staff, he morphed it somewhat into another shape, that of what appeared to be a smooth blacksmith's hammer adorned with runic sigils. As one of the creatures came his way, he swung, standing his ground, and the screeching reached a higher pitch as a mark seemed to burn in the air momentarily from a point of contact. He ducked beneath a swipe of a hand, wincing as another touched his side, and readied for another when a shadow spat some kind of darkness at his face, aiming where his eyes would be, seeping beneath the blindfold.

The crafter bit his lip in aggravation, but quickly closed his eyes, his senses still extremely heightened even as darkness shrouded his eyesight. The assailant seemed to want to press the advantage… but was met with another strike of the hammer, which sent it directly into the ground in pain and dissipating it into nothing.

Greg was seemingly momentarily unable to see, but that did not make him defenseless.

Stunned upon being sent flying to the floor, T.J. tries to shake the cobwebs loose as the myriad shadowy forms continued to swat at him.  He would occasionally block an attack, only for another to quickly swoop in and successfully hit.  It was the numbers game in full effect for him, making it difficult to get an advantage.  For a brief moment, he gazed over to see Greg doing well enough, even with a notable shadowy haze that dripped underneath and atop his cohort's blindfold.  However, even that brief moment was taken advantage of by one of the shadowy beings as it spat at T.J.'s eyes.

T.J. yelled as the gaseous inky substance splattered against his eyes, the effect quite visible as the white of his eyes and his irises turn to black and a shadowy haze over both of his eye sockets. "Dammit!" Giving two blind swings of his blade, he kips up back to his feet, shaking his head as he is once again vertical, trying to clear his eyes. More screeches from the shadowy beings leave him on edge, turning every so often to see if he can get his hearing to focus on a target. However, the screeching hides the movement of a large bronze platter rising up off a nearby table. The platter flies and smacks T.J. right in the face on his right side, and turns around and strikes him again, this time on the left side. A swing of his blade hits nothing but air as the platter rises up and drops onto the top of his head, resulting in a dull but rather audible 'THUD'.

T.J. has to stagger back, his face stinging and his ears ringing from the platter shots. The controlled platter launches forward with the blunted, curved edge of the platter aiming for his throat with the intent to collapse his windpipe. At the barest of last moments, he is able to get his sword up, leaving it angled enough to force the platter down to the ground before stabbing it blindly, an action more born of luck rather than skill. Another shadowy form leaps at him, and another blind swing splits it in half, leaving small hovering orbs of yellow and blue light in the wake of the entity's dissipation. Automatically, T.J.'s Oni Gauntlet activates as it draws the ethereal orbs towards the central orb on the gauntlet. As the yellow ones enter the central orb, the haze begins to dissipate from T.J.'s eye sockets and his eyes slowly begin to regain their original coloration. The blue orbs follow suit, and he can feel even more cold emanating from his katana.

A large rack on a table containing numerous candles rises up, the wicks of the candles self-igniting and setting the rack on fire as it is launched towards Greg. Clearly, whatever force that took control of the various objects around the house sought a new target. However, the rack is split into pieces, each part covered in frost as T.J. makes use of his Shiva katana's magic by launching shards of ice at it with a swing of the sword. However, the fragments were still flying towards their intended target. "Drop, Greg!"

Fighting as he was, Greg barely managed to hear his companion's cry, much less fight back. The din of combat was loud indeed, and with objects flying this way and that, he would have a hard time even if not blinded.

That said, he trusted the fellow fighter's instinct, and dropped to one knee as he listened to what was around him, raising the arm that did not hold his hammer as he ducked his head, and clenching that free hand into a fist.

As he did, the gauntlet around that arm began to shift, twisting into a circular shield with an inlaid rune on the face. Many of the shards of wood, frozen or burning as they were, hit the shield, causing him to stagger back, but others collapsed around it, causing him to grit his teeth from the pain of the impact.

He heard one of the shadows behind him after, and turned, not standing just yet, instead hitting his fist holding his hammer against the back of the shield itself. A pulse of light and fire erupted from it in a wave, incinerating the shadow, and he stood, putting his hand to his blindfold and wiping to remove the inky substance until he was once more capable of sight, following up with another swing of his hammer to take out a different shadow.

"We need to destroy what they can possess," he warned in as calm a voice as he could manage, trying to move slowly through the fight as he tried to find other objects that could have been infiltrated.

"On it."  T.J. gives a brief nod in agreement at Greg's succinct statement, fending off a few more shadowy forms.  It was clear that there was one force within this place that had a clear and distinct advantage with the various objects in the environment, using it as ammunition against the two allies.  A regional version of a poltergeist seemed the most likely culprit, but he couldn't rule the potential of something else otherworldly.  And these shadowy beings...  They weren't Heartless as they didn't fit into the form of either a Pureblood type like a Shadow or Neoshadow, nor did they have any marking on them to notate them as being of the Emblem branch.  Perhaps they were also some regional version of a ghost?  Maybe...

A scroll flies at T.J.'s face, the bronze end of one side striking hard against his jaw and resulting in a rather audible 'KRAK', sending him stumbling back a moment before splitting the scroll in twain with a swipe of his ice-powered katana, Shiva.  "'Ight, 'at's it."  No more ruminations on the threat at hand.  S*** needed doing, and he was dead set on getting it done.  His cracked jaw and loosened molars demanded it.  Rolling out of the way of one of the shadowy forms, his blade glints as another leaps at him.  There is a brief series of flashes of light as T.J. moves both himself and his sword in quick succession, an act notable among wielders of Oni Power as Issen. With each successful Issen strike, the shadows split and release those etheric orbs like before, divided among the colors yellow, blue and red.  Absorbing the orbs in quick order, T.J. feels his jaw knit itself back together, though his molars still felt loose.  Looking at a set of stairs nearby, he proceeds to rush up them.  "I'm going up.  Take care of what's left down here."

Heading upstairs, T.J. kicks open the various doors, finding a number of bedrooms.  Taking his sword, he cut into the furniture of them with fervor, splitting anything with sufficient size into small pieces that would have little effect if possessed.  After deconstructing two such rooms, he enters the third to find that it was home to a small shrine.  While he was more than ready to split the shrine, he pauses as he looks upon the shrine itself, seeing a small crimson crystalline shard no larger than his hand.  He reaches out with his open hand, grabbing the strange shard and looking at it in greater detail.  However, his focus returns to the room at large as he hears loud and audible creaking and cracking.  His eyes widen as he sees the boards that composed the walls of the room twist and contort and mold their shape into arms, and the wall taking on the approximation of a human face with a clear and undeniable look of fury.

There was only one thing that could cross T.J.'s mind.  "...Oh, sh..."

A nod was all that TJ got in reply as Greg continued defending himself. In this case, it was not just defense, but also getting these creatures to focus their attention on him versus the one going upstairs.

A dining area, with a connected kitchen, was what still had some commotion. He approached, hammer in hand, shield at the ready. It was best to remain alert, ready to strike, as he showed through tapping his shield with the head of the hammer, making a sound to draw aggression in his direction.

All went still for a moment, barring the conflict up above. Would they come for him, or wait? Would he--?

The young man winced as a slice cut across his cheek, just below the blindfold, something hitting a wall nearby. The source was hot, but metallic. What could it be?

A turn, and he realized it. A floating knife block, one of the various examples of cutlery expended. It fired again, but this time he was ready, blocking with the shield as he came closer. A pan was raising into the air near him, but he ducked under it, hitting from behind with the hammer and sending it into the block and putting its aim off. A chair was coming at him from behind, but he stepped aside, using the momentum to slice at its legs with the edge of his shield while ducked low. A ladle hitting him in the side of the head as he stumbled slightly, but the blacksmith stood once more, bashing the item to the ground before stomping on it, and hurriedly making a symbol in the air with his hammer before pushing the head through it.

A screech came forth, and all but the knife block fell silent, the shadows coming together into a concentrated mass and trying to come for him... only for a blast of pure fire from his shield to dissipate them.

Only the knives were left, but that was relatively easy. One was blocked, another deflected to the side by its blade, a third hitting on its hilt by accident... and the block was completely expended.

It took a few seconds for it to realize, the block of wood still shaking as if firing... but when it did, it fell silent in what could be assumed as fear.

"Go now," Greg stated, not physically pointed in its direction. When it did not do anything, he just sighed, stepping over, and made a small symbol in fire, a reverse binding. Rather than just being forced from the object, the shadows both left and were dissipated in one combined motion, a form of quasi-exorcism.

He took a breath, a bit tired but not too much, and called out to the companion above. "Is all alright up there?"

As if in response T.J. is thrown out of the room he was occupying, flung down the flight of stairs and landing before Greg, stunned momentarily but still holding onto the strange chunk of crimson crystal. Groaning, he sits up as he hears more creaking of wood across various points of the house. "I think I pissed off the spirit..." As he says this, he sees the exact same as he has in the shrine room: The boards of the floor jut out from their placement, twisting into an approximation of human arms as more along the wall bend and break, making a visage of utter fury.

Getting to his feet T.J. rolls out of the way as one of the house's arms reaches out towards him, only for another new arm to quickly emerge and swat at him, sending him flying back into another which grabs him and begins to squeeze.

Greg did not quite turn in the direction of T.J., but did seem to notice the arms coming their way. He took his blacksmith’s hammer in both hands, and slammed it into the side of the "arm" holding the other man still, a mark left on it from the head. He turned, swinging again, then again, each time singing it further, the wood beginning to burn from the heat. As if in response, he shoot his head, twisting his hand in mid-air, and touched the head to the seal before turning it in his hands.

The words from his mouth sounded odd, but were a brief incantation. To his impression, he was saying to cut along the flame, but it was translated to an Old Norse for others. As a result, a line was drawn along the rune, slicing the "arm" off and freeing his companion. He did not have time to say much more, only to raise his shield as he blocked the other "arm" coming up behind him, then twist to bash it back by slamming into the back of the shield itself with his hammer, releasing some energy and causing it to back away briefly.

"Find the source?" he asked, bracing himself as another "punch" came his way. "If you did, we need to dispel it. I’ll take up the front if you need. Defense is what I do -"

Another strike, and he grunted briefly from exertion. "- but you need to guide me to it. Can you do that?"

(You can control Greg at the front, as a kind of basic shield if you want. To get them closer. Think like "parting the waves," unless you had another means in mind.)

Dropping back down thanks to Greg's intervention, T.J. begins to cough as that initial squeezing temporarily left him bereft of any oxygen to his lungs.  Nodding thankfully towards his colleague and current savior, he listens as Greg gives him an option regarding their actions against the spirits that resided within the house.  The blacksmith would take point and be a moving wall so that both of them could take their leave from this place, guided by T.J.'s words.

"I'd rather not cut and run, but..."  He looks back at the sound of more wood cracking, seeing that more and more of the house's woodwork breaking off its source, now beginning to take on humanoid forms.  These walking walls and fleet-footed floors are soon joined by more of the shadowy spirits, and the primary essence within the house once again forming more arms from the walls.  "The sooner we get this thing away from here, the better."  Pocketing the fist-sized shard away from sight, T.J. also wills away Shiva, reasoning that he needed something with a bit more speed... and something that wood fares not so well against.  The primary orb within his Oni Gauntlet loses the pale white color and shifts into a bright and vibrant red hue.  A new weapon forms in his right hand, a dual-edged sword not unlike an ornate broadsword, though with a notable gap between the two edges.  Gripping the handle with both hands, he proceeds to twist his left one, triggering the blade to split in twin blades, one in each hand.  "Let's do this, Ifrit."

A howl emanates from the wooden figures as they and the shadows begin to move.  One such wooden figure rushes towards the pair, and Greg quickly responds with raising his shield up, his smithing hammer held close to his chest.  The first wooden figure leaps only to receive a strong and sudden smash to its faux face by the runesmith's shield with a summary slamming of the smithy hammer down upon its head, shattering the construct with ease.  Another leaps at T.J., who responds with chopping off both spindly arms with the twin blades that make up Ifrit, before kneeling down and removing the legs with another pair of slashes, concluding with a spinning dual slash that splits the torso in three.  More and more begin to rush in, shadowy forms and wood men alike, intent on overcoming the intruders by sheer numbers and to reclaim that which they saw was rightfully theirs.

Smashing, shattering, splintering and slicing, the numbers begin to pile on more and more, pushing the pair back up the steps and closer to the shrine room and further away from the front door, making it all the more clear to T.J. what needed to be done.  "Drop!"  Hearing this, Greg drops to a knee with his shield raised.  The edges of the twin Ifrit blades begin to emit a fiery haze as T.J. releases a set of three scorching waves that char and vaporize a set of enemies, drawing forth more ethereal orbs which are sucked into the Oni Gauntlet.  "Front Door!  Straight ahead!"  T.J. nods towards the intended exit, the plan apparent.  These things were dead set on keeping this going as long as possible, tire them out and reclaim the crystal.  Neither T.J. nor Greg were interested in prolonging this fight any more than it already had gone on.  Get the crystal out, and perhaps these spirits would settle, or even fade away to where they rightfully belong.

Defend from attacks, clear out a swath, push forward towards the door, rinse and repeat.  An effort that while not Sisyphean, was beginning to fatigue the bodies of the two living.  But the spirits?  Their desire for the crystal and the rage of the intrusion were a font of incredible energy.  Wave after wave of assault, strenuous minutes of struggle, and the two finally reach the door.  T.J. grips the handle, and finds it stuck.  "Dammit, the same trick!"  He yanks at it again and again, getting the same.  "Greg, shield up!  I need a blockade!"  Willing away Ifrit, T.J. grabs the handle and focuses, trying to draw the dark energy out from the door.  "Come on, come on..."