Encounterlogs
Alexanders Odd Encounter Sr Tabitha 240218
In the serene and luxurious setting of his cool-toned bedroom, Alexander finds himself struggling with a lingering sense of guilt from events that transpired the previous night. As he attempts to shake off the disturbing dreams and sensations that haunt him, he moves to his kitchen, trying to focus on the mundane task of making coffee. Amidst his distracted state, a mysterious apparition momentarily appears in his periphery—a naked, sopping wet woman, standing in the doorway, who vanishes as quickly as she appears. Despite feeling a prickle of recognition at the back of his neck, Alexander dismisses the occurrence, attributing it to his distracted mind, and tries to console himself with the determination to rectify past mistakes related to a sinister ritual witnessed at Lilith's Beach.
The ghostly encounters escalate as Alexander moves to his office, with the apparition growing more vivid and unsettling. The lights flicker and outbursts of energy fry electrical outlets, leaving behind scorched marks—a tangible sign of the spectral presence. The apparition of the wet woman reappears, closer than before, her form more defined, yet still shrouded in mystery. She attempts to communicate with Alexander, opening her mouth as if to scream, but the sound that reaches him is muted, as though she is speaking from underwater. This encounter leaves Alexander feeling both physically damp and electrically charged, a tangible remnant of the ghost's presence, signifying a deep connection to the tragic past the spirit is fixated on. Alexander is left to ponder on the significance of these eerie visitations, hinting at the need for him to confront and resolve the underlying tragedy tied to the spectre's unrest.
(Alexander's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Sat Feb 17 2024]
In a luxurious cool-toned bedroom with a platform bed
In this sanctuary of sleep, the bedroom basks in cool-toned luxury. A centerpiece platform bed, low and sleek, anchors the space, adorned with linens in a palette of soft silver and tranquil blue. The walls, a soothing slate grey, serve as a serene canvas, complementing minimalist art pieces that whisper tales of abstract beauty.
The room glows softly under recessed lighting, while chrome-accented bedside lamps offer a focused luminescence. A grand window, dressed in sheer silvery curtains, invites daylight to dance on the polished hardwood floors and, by night, frames the starry sky, marrying the rooms elegance with the beauty of the natural world outside.
It is dusk, about 34F(1C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky.
(Your target encounters a ghost who's fixated on some past tragedy from their life, they need to either give the spirit some sense of closure, or send it on it's way through more violent means.
)
Alexander lays in bed on his phone. An operation successful, the only thing lingering on his mind is the night before. The dreams he had. The sensation in his body, distracting, aggravating. It's guilt foremost. He's moving up slowly to his kitchen to make some coffee, to catch his breath.
While Alexander is consumed by the previous evening, down at Lilith's Beach where flames burned high and hot, where power reigned and wooed those there into sinful thoughts, and one small, minor transgression, he may not be aware that from behind him--- In the doorway, there comes a flash of flicker of some form, like a television that doesn't come in well-- of a woman, naked from head to foot, sopping wet. He may feel a prickle at the back of his neck, but if he turns around, the woman is gone.
Alexander pivots, and rubs the back of his neck. He's been here before, he's felt that feeling before, but if it comes to mind in the midst of all his distraction? Well. Either way he pours himself a cup of coffee, holds it in his hands and lets out a gentle sigh. "It's okay," he tells himself. "I'll sort it. I'll find whoever that ritual was inflicted upon initial. Late to stop it, not too late to help," he says. As to why he's orating aloud, it's hard to say. Maybe it just helps his place feel less lonely. He makes a way towards his office, eyes flicking with curiosity.
There is another flicker, though this time, it is of the lights above, a zap of energy that fries various outlets to leave them black and scorched. Then in the brief instance of dim lighting, as the sun still sets on the horizon of Haven, the image of this woman appears again. Closer now to Alexander. She is naked as a jailbird, hair sopping wet and swirling around her face as if she is submerged. The woman opens her mouth to speak, to scream. But what comes out to Alexander is muted, like she is submerged. She is then gone again, but it leaves Alexander feeling damp and electrified, the hairs at the back of his neck he'd just rubbed at again standing on end.
The ghostly encounters escalate as Alexander moves to his office, with the apparition growing more vivid and unsettling. The lights flicker and outbursts of energy fry electrical outlets, leaving behind scorched marks—a tangible sign of the spectral presence. The apparition of the wet woman reappears, closer than before, her form more defined, yet still shrouded in mystery. She attempts to communicate with Alexander, opening her mouth as if to scream, but the sound that reaches him is muted, as though she is speaking from underwater. This encounter leaves Alexander feeling both physically damp and electrically charged, a tangible remnant of the ghost's presence, signifying a deep connection to the tragic past the spirit is fixated on. Alexander is left to ponder on the significance of these eerie visitations, hinting at the need for him to confront and resolve the underlying tragedy tied to the spectre's unrest.
(Alexander's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Sat Feb 17 2024]
In a luxurious cool-toned bedroom with a platform bed
In this sanctuary of sleep, the bedroom basks in cool-toned luxury. A centerpiece platform bed, low and sleek, anchors the space, adorned with linens in a palette of soft silver and tranquil blue. The walls, a soothing slate grey, serve as a serene canvas, complementing minimalist art pieces that whisper tales of abstract beauty.
The room glows softly under recessed lighting, while chrome-accented bedside lamps offer a focused luminescence. A grand window, dressed in sheer silvery curtains, invites daylight to dance on the polished hardwood floors and, by night, frames the starry sky, marrying the rooms elegance with the beauty of the natural world outside.
It is dusk, about 34F(1C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky.
(Your target encounters a ghost who's fixated on some past tragedy from their life, they need to either give the spirit some sense of closure, or send it on it's way through more violent means.
)
Alexander lays in bed on his phone. An operation successful, the only thing lingering on his mind is the night before. The dreams he had. The sensation in his body, distracting, aggravating. It's guilt foremost. He's moving up slowly to his kitchen to make some coffee, to catch his breath.
While Alexander is consumed by the previous evening, down at Lilith's Beach where flames burned high and hot, where power reigned and wooed those there into sinful thoughts, and one small, minor transgression, he may not be aware that from behind him--- In the doorway, there comes a flash of flicker of some form, like a television that doesn't come in well-- of a woman, naked from head to foot, sopping wet. He may feel a prickle at the back of his neck, but if he turns around, the woman is gone.
Alexander pivots, and rubs the back of his neck. He's been here before, he's felt that feeling before, but if it comes to mind in the midst of all his distraction? Well. Either way he pours himself a cup of coffee, holds it in his hands and lets out a gentle sigh. "It's okay," he tells himself. "I'll sort it. I'll find whoever that ritual was inflicted upon initial. Late to stop it, not too late to help," he says. As to why he's orating aloud, it's hard to say. Maybe it just helps his place feel less lonely. He makes a way towards his office, eyes flicking with curiosity.
There is another flicker, though this time, it is of the lights above, a zap of energy that fries various outlets to leave them black and scorched. Then in the brief instance of dim lighting, as the sun still sets on the horizon of Haven, the image of this woman appears again. Closer now to Alexander. She is naked as a jailbird, hair sopping wet and swirling around her face as if she is submerged. The woman opens her mouth to speak, to scream. But what comes out to Alexander is muted, like she is submerged. She is then gone again, but it leaves Alexander feeling damp and electrified, the hairs at the back of his neck he'd just rubbed at again standing on end.