Encounterlogs
Elanoras Odd Encounter Sr Mikhael 240525
In the eerily quiet streets before dawn, Elanora encounters a ghostly presence that sends shivers down her spine with its mournful, whispering pleas for help. The cold touch and ethereal whispers grow more insistent, wrapping around her in a spectral embrace that suggests the ghost's desperation. Despite the unsettling nature of this meeting, Elanora momentarily considers aiding the spirit, intrigued yet cautious about the nature of its request. However, as the ghost attempts to compel her towards a sinister alley with a chilling force, she stands her ground, refusing to proceed without understanding the spirit's intentions fully. Her resistance against the ghost's forceful guidance underscores her resilience and skepticism about the supernatural's unpredictable nature.
Elanora's confrontation with the ghost escalates as it tries to possess her, attempting to use her body to fulfill its mysterious agenda. She vehemently resists, asserting her boundaries and demanding a negotiation before any assistance is rendered. The ghost's failure to communicate its desires clearly and its aggressive approach only fuels Elanora's determination to break away from its grasp. Her refusal to be coerced into compliance, coupled with the physical and emotional toll of the encounter, leads her to reject the spirit's pleas outright. As she walks away, focused on reconnecting with her friends through her phone, the ghost's presence fades into the background, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease and unanswered questions about the nature of its unfinished business. Elanora's encounter serves as a stark reminder of the complexities and dangers that lie in engaging with entities beyond the mortal realm, emphasizing the importance of setting boundaries and the power of personal agency even in the face of the supernatural.
(Elanora's odd encounter(SRMikhael):SRMikhael)
[Fri May 24 2024]
At Elm Street and Warden's Way
It is before dawn, about 67F(19C) degrees, There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target and their allies are asked by a ghost to help them resolve their unfinished business so they can finally rest in peace. However, resolving the ghost's issue requires dealing with a powerful, corrupt figure in the town.)
The street lights spill onto the pavement in the darkened street connecting the Elm to Warden's way. Only illuminated to the east, where the sun has slowly, in the far, far distance begun to creep up and stretch its luminous glow across the town. It is far from arrival yet. For now, the town is bask in the eerie gloom of the waning Witching Hour of the night. It is a night fraught with darkness, with the worst of Haven rearing its head and searching far and wide. In it, there is Elanora. Walking in this early Friday day in such a place is bound to call upon danger.
Mayhaps it is another time that her luck attracts the opposite of luck; it remains to be seen. A ghastly wind thrums through beneath the waning, gibbous moon - it brushes across every wildened weed that sprouds from between the cracks on the pavement searching for light with ardor and vigor of the forest untamed trying to lay its age old claim on the town to no avail. Not this far in it, at least. Yet, what moves them, the ethereal wind, is not merely that. There is something else to it, something mournful, something distraught.
It, the wind, approaches Elanora from behind. Like a gentle caress, it drifts across her shoulders, over her bare arms - ruffles her dress and her long locks of hair, cast in disarray before fading just as mysterious as it arrived. However fleeting, it is cold. Unusually cold, more than the mere nature of the night. Shivering any that befall it down to their bones. Merely a breath after, it is cast out again. This time, as if it found something to clutch on, the eerie wind spins a tiny storm of dust and leaves closely around Elanora, hounds at her mercilessly - and riding along it is a faint hum of barely telligible words that don't make sense at all. A quiet whisper, neither here nor there. Gone to the ether with the wind once more.
Thereafter, it is pure, raw silence. As if everything in the street is dead, no life or the hum of an early early morning whatsoever in the quietitude that has settled across the area - as if something waits. Whatever it waits for, it isn't clear - a reaction, a sensation, maybe even recognition. There is a pressure to the air that subtly thickens it, collected upon Elanora like an unseen gaze, weighed upon her either by nature or by force of will. Even if the silence it begets doesn't answer anything - and in another moment, the regular din of the street returns. A more mundane wind, warmer temperature, distant light of the rising sun in the eatern horizon - but no cars, no sign of life. No early morning bird song. Just silence, peeking through the veil of normalcy.
Elanora walks along the street, having decided to head back home after visiting the college in the deep mid of the night. Her golden eyes are stare around at the shadows, piercing their darkness with her gaze as she walks alone, listening to her footsteps echoing in the smallest hours of the morning. She pauses as the wind surrounds her, as it tugs on every which strand of hair and her clothing, rippling her mini dress over her thighs. She doesn't even bother to reach a hand down to keep her dress flat, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sniffs the breeze. The cold doesn't seem to bother her, her hand raising to trail through that whirlwind of dust and leaves that surround her and she makes a single thoughtful sound as the silence surrounds her. Her head tilts as if trying to listen to something and her footsteps pause to a stop as the silence settles upon her shoulders like a cloak. Narrowed golden eyes stare around, watchful, weary. Waiting for something else to jump out of this god forsaken town she had landed herself in.
The air, this early in the morning, is clear. Crisp. It's bereft of the pollution that vehicles and the overbearing pressure of society that would descend on the town. Elanora would find the echo of her steps continue long past after she's stopped walking, mingling with the sound of her thoughtful hum - and instead of growing distant, fading into nothing, the echo approaches. Slowly, step by step, her own footfalls reach her before abruptly stopping like something stands where she does. Just at her back. The telltale sensation of being watched heavy, almost palpable, as if there is someone standing right behind her. All that cold, now collected singularly at her back, stretches from that exact spot as if seeking her out again. In her wait, just seconds before it feels like something might touch her, another hushed, drawn out and hissed whisper, or the wind itself, carries an unintelligible message. Words echoed, brushes through her hair in this distraught manifestation commanding the space near her. Yet, should she turn around, there would be no one. Nothing. Just a single, flickering streetlight illuminating the pavement.
Elanora's body tenses as the footsteps approach her and her head turns slightly, to notice that the sound does not change between her hearing as she does. Her lashes flutter over her golden eyes as she reaches a hand behind her back, touches the koala plushie that is strapped to the waist strap of her dress. Her hand closes around the plushie brings the small toy forwards. It looks tiny and helpless in her taloned hands. Still, she brings it forward as an arcane glow lights up the opal ring at her finger. She doesn't do more than that though... Her golden eyes glancing over her shoulder to confirm what her ears had already told her. The sound was not physical. Her breath sighs out of her, "Well Vinnie did say the school was haunted..." She says to no one in particular, although she looks down at the plushie clutched in her hand. She lifts the koala bear plushie, bringing the soft tuft ears to her chin to play it over her skin, "Hello?" She asks the air.
The toy in Elanora's hand vibrates. It's an arcane reaction to be sure, felt more like a shiver that runs up her arm. Brushing her skin, seeking out - like ghastly fingers tracing across her skin before whatever manifestation carries it slips past her shoulder, gets closer to her ear. Another whisper, quieter, far, far quieter, dismisses the greeting. It's a broken voice, feminine no doubt, yet thin as paper, just as fragile too. "Help," The words don't immediately make sense. If she had any doubts about the nature of her current company, it shouldn't be far fetched to assume what it is. "Help." It whispers, again, but the gust of wind that blows her hair back delivers the same word -- whispered, echoed, perhaps a hundred times in a single breath before blown away and settling behind her again, out of her sight, just above her shoulders. She may feel the sensation of hands that breach upon her personal space, wrap around and hold onto her in what can only be described as a hug from behind. It's a faint weight, barely there at all.
Help... .Help.... The sounds echo around her as she shivers from the otherworld sensation that surrounds her. Great. Another ghost that haunts the school like the ones Vinnie had described to her. She sighs as she feels like something had walked over her grave. Helping someone a ghost was not something she had planned that night. Was not nothing anyone planned. But was the ghost going to go away if she didn't? If she ignored it? She wasn't sure. Another sighed breath out, "Alright... But make it snappy. I'm supposed to go home for breakfast and there's someone waiting for me." Elanora lifts her hand, the opal ring around her finger glowin
Help... .Help.... The sounds echo around her as she shivers from the otherworld sensation that surrounds her. Great. Another ghost that haunts the school like the ones Vinnie had described to her. She sighs as she feels like something had walked over her grave. Helping someone a ghost was not something she had planned that night. Was not nothing anyone planned. But was the ghost going to go away if she didn't? If she ignored it? She wasn't sure. Another sighed breath out, "Alright... But make it snappy. I'm supposed to go home for breakfast and there's someone waiting for me." Elanora lifts her hand, the opal ring around her finger glowing. (fixed)
Another sigh brushes past Elanora's ear. It's fainter - but mirthful of her words, the simple acceptance. What follows is a disgusting, almost slimy sensation as that feeling of hands upon her shoulders sinks across her arms. Cold nigh unbearable, and eventually it merges into her own arms. It's the telltale sign of a posssion, half-of-it that tries to rob her the control of her limbs, trying to guide Elanora. A push, a shove, each movement that whatever compelling force is now descending on her like a jagged needle upon her skin, trying to make haste and motion her to walk across the street. Simply towards a line of foreboding streetlights, flickering, flashing, dimming and rising in glow in succession as if showing her the way.
Another sigh brushes past Elanora's ear. It's fainter - but mirthful of her words, the simple acceptance. What follows is a disgusting, almost slimy sensation as that feeling of hands upon her shoulders sinks across her arms. Cold nigh unbearable, and eventually it merges into her own arms. It's the telltale sign of a posssion, half-of-it that tries to rob her the control of her limbs, trying to guide Elanora. A push, a shove, each movement that whatever compelling force is now descending on her like a jagged needle upon her skin, trying to make haste and motion her to walk across the street. Simply towards a line of foreboding streetlights, flickering, flashing, dimming and rising in glow in succession as if showing her the way.
Elanora sighs as the sensations run over her body, gritting her teeth slightly as she's drawn forward to walk along the street. Clip clop. Her heels hitting the empty pavement as she walks slightly unsteadily, a steady anger growing in her. She hadn't asked for this. Hadn't offered to help any ghosts. Why were they targetting her? A growl spills from her throat at another slimey sensation sinks over her shoulders and if the ghost hadn't been guiding her towards the direction she was going already... back towards the shadey parking lot of Elm St Apartments, she probably wouldn't have continued. "I don't help unconditionally." She snaps softly at the air, "You need to negotiate. No negotiating no play. Them's the rules." She hisses as she finds her feet taking yet another step.
The resistance is enough to stop the overbearing force that tries to propel Elanora into the flickeringly lit alley looming just ahead. It doesn't look inviting, it doesn't *feel* inviting. Her words reach her unwanted companion, but the feeling in her limbs stops. Almost as if weakly, like it took a great deal of force to do just that. Some silence ensues - broken by a slight sob right past her ear, brushing her hair, blowing it away. Followed by another, and another - layered above each in unison like ten people wailing at once.
It stops abruptly. And there is nothing but silence. It's somehow more oppressive than the approach. Deafening in quiet. Merely a second later, the full brunt of the previous feeling tries to stretch into her limbs again, tries to fight her resistance in desperation and the backdrop of a growing hiss of something angered that tries to shove her along do to its bidding. No more the faint weight settled, there are fingers through her hair trying to claim Elanora and move her to their destination.
Elanora's head tilts as she hears the wailing, the sobbing and she feels herself sigh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad helping out. Maybe just this once. But still.. she doesn't enter situations without negoitation... And this thing... This ghost... this whatever it is.... Still hadn't told her what exactly it wanted. She hesitates, almost deciding to help when the full force of the /thing/ comes back, making her grit her teeth and growl. Her hand stretches out, nails screeching against the brick wall that she scrapes it against in an effect to stop herself from moving forward. The fingers in her hair make her golden eyes glow almost luminious as she resists. "Fuck off you're not allowed to do that. Only person is allowed to do that." She growls, her other hand swiping through the air, talon like nails scratching through as if there was some way to dislodge it. Scowling, she holds up the teddy. "If you're a spirit. Go in. We can form a pact." She attempts to negotiate, still resisting with every fibre of her being on being dragged into that alleyway.
Her resistance once again manages to get her free of the clutches on this menace of a ghost that tries to force Elanora to do her bidding - by will or by force. It relents if only for that moment, and all the pressure, the weight trying to settle over her fades. It tries, but it is weak - even this much had evidently drained it of much essence in trying to manifest and overpower her. When Elanora forces them to halt, holds that teddy forward, something arcane twists it again. Weakly vibrates, as if trying to shove it away.
It naturally fails, but that only seems to infuriate. The air becomes thick yet again, and a plethora of whispers grace her ears - "Follow, follow, follow, follow..." Said in unison by three voices, all belonging to the same one, repeated in mantra, in wrathful fury. The cold touch of undeath graces her hand again, with the looming threat of it slowly climbing up her arm for what is likely another attempt. Yet, should she wished, perhaps Elanora could use this opportunity to flee from this vengeful incarnation that still doesn't explain what it truly wants beside taking her down an dark, dangerous alleyway.
Elanora shakes her head as the presence disappears of her, gasping a breath of the fresh, cold air of the night as she tries to clear her head as well. She usually didn't mind the cold. Was resistant to it even. But the numbing grips of the ghost made her growl, made her feel like the nonexistant hairs on the back of her neck should be standing if they existed. She makes another noise of protest, "No following until you negotiate!" She tells the presence again, getting angry. "I am not going into that dark and dank alley so I can help you by letting you possess me or something. Nuh uh!" She yanks her arm as the presence fills it and is distracted by the vibrations of her phone. Oh one of her girlfiends was awake.. Maybe Calista could help her focus.... She types back a quick message and frowns at her phone. No connection???? Seriously??? The ghost was stopping her from girl talk as well? That was a fucking step too far. "Nope nope nope nope!!!" She tells the ghost, "Fuck off! I need my early morning girl talk! Fuck this!" She yanks her arm again and walks off down Paine, deliberately avoiding the alley as she holds her phone up trying to find a signal.
As it stands, there is a wrathful sound behind Elanora. It wails, and wails - and fades, and grows distant. Nothing more than a whisper lost in the wind, being rejected. Whatever it was in live, reduced to a shamble of itself, maybe even unable to communicate properly anymore, this apparition is left wanting. Unfulfilled. Long after Elanora has stormed off, the lights in that alley continue to flicker, and flicker - and eventually, they fade with the morning light sweeping in to diminish their glow. There isn't much left to say - of what the business was, of what could've been. Be it Elanora's luck attracting good fortune, or her reluctance wearing down whatever strength this caller from the grave had, she goes away unbothered. The ghost is merely another unfulfilled soul, after all, with a care for only its own needs. It remains as such, forgotten in that dark, dank alleyway in its lonesome. Perhaps to be never heard from again, drowned out in all the other ghastly voices haunting the town at night.
Elanora's confrontation with the ghost escalates as it tries to possess her, attempting to use her body to fulfill its mysterious agenda. She vehemently resists, asserting her boundaries and demanding a negotiation before any assistance is rendered. The ghost's failure to communicate its desires clearly and its aggressive approach only fuels Elanora's determination to break away from its grasp. Her refusal to be coerced into compliance, coupled with the physical and emotional toll of the encounter, leads her to reject the spirit's pleas outright. As she walks away, focused on reconnecting with her friends through her phone, the ghost's presence fades into the background, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease and unanswered questions about the nature of its unfinished business. Elanora's encounter serves as a stark reminder of the complexities and dangers that lie in engaging with entities beyond the mortal realm, emphasizing the importance of setting boundaries and the power of personal agency even in the face of the supernatural.
(Elanora's odd encounter(SRMikhael):SRMikhael)
[Fri May 24 2024]
At Elm Street and Warden's Way
It is before dawn, about 67F(19C) degrees, There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target and their allies are asked by a ghost to help them resolve their unfinished business so they can finally rest in peace. However, resolving the ghost's issue requires dealing with a powerful, corrupt figure in the town.)
The street lights spill onto the pavement in the darkened street connecting the Elm to Warden's way. Only illuminated to the east, where the sun has slowly, in the far, far distance begun to creep up and stretch its luminous glow across the town. It is far from arrival yet. For now, the town is bask in the eerie gloom of the waning Witching Hour of the night. It is a night fraught with darkness, with the worst of Haven rearing its head and searching far and wide. In it, there is Elanora. Walking in this early Friday day in such a place is bound to call upon danger.
Mayhaps it is another time that her luck attracts the opposite of luck; it remains to be seen. A ghastly wind thrums through beneath the waning, gibbous moon - it brushes across every wildened weed that sprouds from between the cracks on the pavement searching for light with ardor and vigor of the forest untamed trying to lay its age old claim on the town to no avail. Not this far in it, at least. Yet, what moves them, the ethereal wind, is not merely that. There is something else to it, something mournful, something distraught.
It, the wind, approaches Elanora from behind. Like a gentle caress, it drifts across her shoulders, over her bare arms - ruffles her dress and her long locks of hair, cast in disarray before fading just as mysterious as it arrived. However fleeting, it is cold. Unusually cold, more than the mere nature of the night. Shivering any that befall it down to their bones. Merely a breath after, it is cast out again. This time, as if it found something to clutch on, the eerie wind spins a tiny storm of dust and leaves closely around Elanora, hounds at her mercilessly - and riding along it is a faint hum of barely telligible words that don't make sense at all. A quiet whisper, neither here nor there. Gone to the ether with the wind once more.
Thereafter, it is pure, raw silence. As if everything in the street is dead, no life or the hum of an early early morning whatsoever in the quietitude that has settled across the area - as if something waits. Whatever it waits for, it isn't clear - a reaction, a sensation, maybe even recognition. There is a pressure to the air that subtly thickens it, collected upon Elanora like an unseen gaze, weighed upon her either by nature or by force of will. Even if the silence it begets doesn't answer anything - and in another moment, the regular din of the street returns. A more mundane wind, warmer temperature, distant light of the rising sun in the eatern horizon - but no cars, no sign of life. No early morning bird song. Just silence, peeking through the veil of normalcy.
Elanora walks along the street, having decided to head back home after visiting the college in the deep mid of the night. Her golden eyes are stare around at the shadows, piercing their darkness with her gaze as she walks alone, listening to her footsteps echoing in the smallest hours of the morning. She pauses as the wind surrounds her, as it tugs on every which strand of hair and her clothing, rippling her mini dress over her thighs. She doesn't even bother to reach a hand down to keep her dress flat, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sniffs the breeze. The cold doesn't seem to bother her, her hand raising to trail through that whirlwind of dust and leaves that surround her and she makes a single thoughtful sound as the silence surrounds her. Her head tilts as if trying to listen to something and her footsteps pause to a stop as the silence settles upon her shoulders like a cloak. Narrowed golden eyes stare around, watchful, weary. Waiting for something else to jump out of this god forsaken town she had landed herself in.
The air, this early in the morning, is clear. Crisp. It's bereft of the pollution that vehicles and the overbearing pressure of society that would descend on the town. Elanora would find the echo of her steps continue long past after she's stopped walking, mingling with the sound of her thoughtful hum - and instead of growing distant, fading into nothing, the echo approaches. Slowly, step by step, her own footfalls reach her before abruptly stopping like something stands where she does. Just at her back. The telltale sensation of being watched heavy, almost palpable, as if there is someone standing right behind her. All that cold, now collected singularly at her back, stretches from that exact spot as if seeking her out again. In her wait, just seconds before it feels like something might touch her, another hushed, drawn out and hissed whisper, or the wind itself, carries an unintelligible message. Words echoed, brushes through her hair in this distraught manifestation commanding the space near her. Yet, should she turn around, there would be no one. Nothing. Just a single, flickering streetlight illuminating the pavement.
Elanora's body tenses as the footsteps approach her and her head turns slightly, to notice that the sound does not change between her hearing as she does. Her lashes flutter over her golden eyes as she reaches a hand behind her back, touches the koala plushie that is strapped to the waist strap of her dress. Her hand closes around the plushie brings the small toy forwards. It looks tiny and helpless in her taloned hands. Still, she brings it forward as an arcane glow lights up the opal ring at her finger. She doesn't do more than that though... Her golden eyes glancing over her shoulder to confirm what her ears had already told her. The sound was not physical. Her breath sighs out of her, "Well Vinnie did say the school was haunted..." She says to no one in particular, although she looks down at the plushie clutched in her hand. She lifts the koala bear plushie, bringing the soft tuft ears to her chin to play it over her skin, "Hello?" She asks the air.
The toy in Elanora's hand vibrates. It's an arcane reaction to be sure, felt more like a shiver that runs up her arm. Brushing her skin, seeking out - like ghastly fingers tracing across her skin before whatever manifestation carries it slips past her shoulder, gets closer to her ear. Another whisper, quieter, far, far quieter, dismisses the greeting. It's a broken voice, feminine no doubt, yet thin as paper, just as fragile too. "Help," The words don't immediately make sense. If she had any doubts about the nature of her current company, it shouldn't be far fetched to assume what it is. "Help." It whispers, again, but the gust of wind that blows her hair back delivers the same word -- whispered, echoed, perhaps a hundred times in a single breath before blown away and settling behind her again, out of her sight, just above her shoulders. She may feel the sensation of hands that breach upon her personal space, wrap around and hold onto her in what can only be described as a hug from behind. It's a faint weight, barely there at all.
Help... .Help.... The sounds echo around her as she shivers from the otherworld sensation that surrounds her. Great. Another ghost that haunts the school like the ones Vinnie had described to her. She sighs as she feels like something had walked over her grave. Helping someone a ghost was not something she had planned that night. Was not nothing anyone planned. But was the ghost going to go away if she didn't? If she ignored it? She wasn't sure. Another sighed breath out, "Alright... But make it snappy. I'm supposed to go home for breakfast and there's someone waiting for me." Elanora lifts her hand, the opal ring around her finger glowin
Help... .Help.... The sounds echo around her as she shivers from the otherworld sensation that surrounds her. Great. Another ghost that haunts the school like the ones Vinnie had described to her. She sighs as she feels like something had walked over her grave. Helping someone a ghost was not something she had planned that night. Was not nothing anyone planned. But was the ghost going to go away if she didn't? If she ignored it? She wasn't sure. Another sighed breath out, "Alright... But make it snappy. I'm supposed to go home for breakfast and there's someone waiting for me." Elanora lifts her hand, the opal ring around her finger glowing. (fixed)
Another sigh brushes past Elanora's ear. It's fainter - but mirthful of her words, the simple acceptance. What follows is a disgusting, almost slimy sensation as that feeling of hands upon her shoulders sinks across her arms. Cold nigh unbearable, and eventually it merges into her own arms. It's the telltale sign of a posssion, half-of-it that tries to rob her the control of her limbs, trying to guide Elanora. A push, a shove, each movement that whatever compelling force is now descending on her like a jagged needle upon her skin, trying to make haste and motion her to walk across the street. Simply towards a line of foreboding streetlights, flickering, flashing, dimming and rising in glow in succession as if showing her the way.
Another sigh brushes past Elanora's ear. It's fainter - but mirthful of her words, the simple acceptance. What follows is a disgusting, almost slimy sensation as that feeling of hands upon her shoulders sinks across her arms. Cold nigh unbearable, and eventually it merges into her own arms. It's the telltale sign of a posssion, half-of-it that tries to rob her the control of her limbs, trying to guide Elanora. A push, a shove, each movement that whatever compelling force is now descending on her like a jagged needle upon her skin, trying to make haste and motion her to walk across the street. Simply towards a line of foreboding streetlights, flickering, flashing, dimming and rising in glow in succession as if showing her the way.
Elanora sighs as the sensations run over her body, gritting her teeth slightly as she's drawn forward to walk along the street. Clip clop. Her heels hitting the empty pavement as she walks slightly unsteadily, a steady anger growing in her. She hadn't asked for this. Hadn't offered to help any ghosts. Why were they targetting her? A growl spills from her throat at another slimey sensation sinks over her shoulders and if the ghost hadn't been guiding her towards the direction she was going already... back towards the shadey parking lot of Elm St Apartments, she probably wouldn't have continued. "I don't help unconditionally." She snaps softly at the air, "You need to negotiate. No negotiating no play. Them's the rules." She hisses as she finds her feet taking yet another step.
The resistance is enough to stop the overbearing force that tries to propel Elanora into the flickeringly lit alley looming just ahead. It doesn't look inviting, it doesn't *feel* inviting. Her words reach her unwanted companion, but the feeling in her limbs stops. Almost as if weakly, like it took a great deal of force to do just that. Some silence ensues - broken by a slight sob right past her ear, brushing her hair, blowing it away. Followed by another, and another - layered above each in unison like ten people wailing at once.
It stops abruptly. And there is nothing but silence. It's somehow more oppressive than the approach. Deafening in quiet. Merely a second later, the full brunt of the previous feeling tries to stretch into her limbs again, tries to fight her resistance in desperation and the backdrop of a growing hiss of something angered that tries to shove her along do to its bidding. No more the faint weight settled, there are fingers through her hair trying to claim Elanora and move her to their destination.
Elanora's head tilts as she hears the wailing, the sobbing and she feels herself sigh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad helping out. Maybe just this once. But still.. she doesn't enter situations without negoitation... And this thing... This ghost... this whatever it is.... Still hadn't told her what exactly it wanted. She hesitates, almost deciding to help when the full force of the /thing/ comes back, making her grit her teeth and growl. Her hand stretches out, nails screeching against the brick wall that she scrapes it against in an effect to stop herself from moving forward. The fingers in her hair make her golden eyes glow almost luminious as she resists. "Fuck off you're not allowed to do that. Only person is allowed to do that." She growls, her other hand swiping through the air, talon like nails scratching through as if there was some way to dislodge it. Scowling, she holds up the teddy. "If you're a spirit. Go in. We can form a pact." She attempts to negotiate, still resisting with every fibre of her being on being dragged into that alleyway.
Her resistance once again manages to get her free of the clutches on this menace of a ghost that tries to force Elanora to do her bidding - by will or by force. It relents if only for that moment, and all the pressure, the weight trying to settle over her fades. It tries, but it is weak - even this much had evidently drained it of much essence in trying to manifest and overpower her. When Elanora forces them to halt, holds that teddy forward, something arcane twists it again. Weakly vibrates, as if trying to shove it away.
It naturally fails, but that only seems to infuriate. The air becomes thick yet again, and a plethora of whispers grace her ears - "Follow, follow, follow, follow..." Said in unison by three voices, all belonging to the same one, repeated in mantra, in wrathful fury. The cold touch of undeath graces her hand again, with the looming threat of it slowly climbing up her arm for what is likely another attempt. Yet, should she wished, perhaps Elanora could use this opportunity to flee from this vengeful incarnation that still doesn't explain what it truly wants beside taking her down an dark, dangerous alleyway.
Elanora shakes her head as the presence disappears of her, gasping a breath of the fresh, cold air of the night as she tries to clear her head as well. She usually didn't mind the cold. Was resistant to it even. But the numbing grips of the ghost made her growl, made her feel like the nonexistant hairs on the back of her neck should be standing if they existed. She makes another noise of protest, "No following until you negotiate!" She tells the presence again, getting angry. "I am not going into that dark and dank alley so I can help you by letting you possess me or something. Nuh uh!" She yanks her arm as the presence fills it and is distracted by the vibrations of her phone. Oh one of her girlfiends was awake.. Maybe Calista could help her focus.... She types back a quick message and frowns at her phone. No connection???? Seriously??? The ghost was stopping her from girl talk as well? That was a fucking step too far. "Nope nope nope nope!!!" She tells the ghost, "Fuck off! I need my early morning girl talk! Fuck this!" She yanks her arm again and walks off down Paine, deliberately avoiding the alley as she holds her phone up trying to find a signal.
As it stands, there is a wrathful sound behind Elanora. It wails, and wails - and fades, and grows distant. Nothing more than a whisper lost in the wind, being rejected. Whatever it was in live, reduced to a shamble of itself, maybe even unable to communicate properly anymore, this apparition is left wanting. Unfulfilled. Long after Elanora has stormed off, the lights in that alley continue to flicker, and flicker - and eventually, they fade with the morning light sweeping in to diminish their glow. There isn't much left to say - of what the business was, of what could've been. Be it Elanora's luck attracting good fortune, or her reluctance wearing down whatever strength this caller from the grave had, she goes away unbothered. The ghost is merely another unfulfilled soul, after all, with a care for only its own needs. It remains as such, forgotten in that dark, dank alleyway in its lonesome. Perhaps to be never heard from again, drowned out in all the other ghastly voices haunting the town at night.