Encounterlogs
Freyas Odd Encounter Sr Dean 240721
The tranquil serenity of Sidney Beach was shattered when Freya encountered her distressed neighbor claiming there was a demonic presence in her house. The neighbor, in a panic, implored Freya to help rid her home of the entity, claiming it was far worse than a ghost and feared for the safety of anyone around. While Freya was hesitant due to exhaustion, her sense of neighborly duty overcame her reluctance, and she agreed to investigate the haunting presence. They discovered not just a demon but a malevolent force that had grown stronger over time, one that seemed almost aware of their intentions to banish it. As tension mounted, the demon's presence became increasingly threatening, culminating in an eruption that left the house in ruin. Freya, employing her skill in hypnosis, sent her neighbor away to safety, leaving the demon to consume the house in flames, a decision she somewhat lamented but ultimately accepted as she walked away, contemplating the destruction of the home to possibly rid it of its dark inhabitant permanently.
In a separate encounter, a group of hunters arrived at Sidney Beach, driven by reports of a colossal wolf. Their intention was to capture and kill the beast for sport. They set up a trap but were unsettled when Dean, the target of their hunt, demonstrated an uncanny awareness and vanished before their eyes, only to reappear as a massive wolf. Juniper, another wolf, stumbled upon the scene, and together, they turned the tables on their hunters. The ensuing chaos saw the hunters outmatched, with Dean and Juniper inflicting severe but non-lethal damage, marking them with the curse of lycanthropy. As the hunters fled or were incapacitated, Dean and Juniper retreated, their point brutally made. The beach was left in disarray, scattered with the aftermath of the skirmish and the grim reminder of the encounter's ferocity. The incident served as a stark warning to others of the strength and territorial nature of the wolves in Haven, ensuring their legend would grow even darker in the tales told by those who dared tread too closely to their domain.
(Freya's odd encounter(SRDean):SRDean)
[Sat Jul 20 2024]
At Sidney Beach
It is morning, about 85F(29C) degrees,
(Your target has been contacted by a distressed citizen who claims their house is haunted. Through their investigation, the characters discover it's not a ghost, but a demon that's been trapped in the house, trying to escape. They need to devise a plan to banish or re-trap the demon without causing harm to the innocent inhabitants of the house.)
The moon hangs low in the night sky, a luminous orb casting its silvery glow upon the tranquil expanse of sand below. The beach stretches out in a gentle arc, a serene and untouched canvas of pale gold, softly illuminated by the moon's ethereal light. The sand, cool and fine, sifts easily beneath the breeze's gentle touch, whispering secrets of the ocean, of what lies within its dark and unforgiving depths laid to Freya's sight. At this time of the night, just before the first rays of the morning rays rise from the far end of the horizon.
To the east, the Atlantic Ocean sprawls endlessly, its surface a shimmering mirror reflecting the celestial, waning dance of stars from above as they're drowned by the filtered light of the sun, while the waves, gentle and rhythmic, laps at the shore with a soothing, repetitive murmur. Each crest and trough caught the moonlight creates a sparkling tapestry of liquid silver that ebbed and flowed with the tide's unerring rhythm. The sea's vastness was both humbling and mesmerizing, an infinite stretch that seemed to meld with the horizon, where the darkened sky met the shimmering water in an almost indistinguishable line.
The air was filled with the salt-kissed scent of the sea, a briny tang that mingled with the earthy fragrance of the damp sand. A faint breeze plays along the shoreline, here and now, stirring the air with a cool caress that whispered through the sparse dunes, their grasses tucked sparely in the sand swaying gently as if in a nocturnal dance. The occasional cry of a distant seabird pierced the stillness, its call echoing across the open expanse, only to be swallowed by the vast silence that dominated the scene.
Here, in this secluded sanctuary, time seemed to stand still. The world beyond felt like a distant memory, replaced by the serene simplicity of nature's quiet grandeur. The waning full moon bathed the beach in a soft, otherworldly light, casting long, delicate shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the waves - and in opposition, the sun peeking from the other end illuminates the sea in a haze of glory and an early morning mist upon the far, distant waves. The night's deep, profound tranquility offers a fleeting, silent symphony of nature's most gentle elements- but it is soon to be broken. This is Haven, after all.@line
That place of solitude and reflection, where the soul could find peace in the rhythmic lullaby of the sea, is broken by a shrill gasp - of someone fleeing their abode. Freya's neighbour, it would seem. The woman that held the two-story villa south of her own house, closer to the foret, on another stretch of the beach. As of yet, she hasn't noted Freya, but Freya can easily note her - her panicked look searching for her before she yells- "Anyone! Anyone, please!" Not that they had ever met before - who even speaks to their neighbors now with friendly intent in 2024? There is nonetheless familiarity towards the disheveled brunette in her nightgown.
Freya was walking her way slowly down the beach, cooling from the night of lunacy. Her bare feet slowly makes her way through the surf, the water flowing forward over ankles over and over as she lets the chill of the atlantic ocean take away the warmth of the night. Her head lifts slowly as she notices the other woman yelling, "Hey what's wrong?" She asks softly as she makes her way down the beach towards the other woman.
The womans eyes widen with a mix of relief and desperation as she spots the approaching figure. She stumbles towards the voice, her nightgown billowing around her legs, catching in the occasional gust of the cool ocean breeze. Her hair, dark and disheveled, frames her pale face, marked by fear and a frantic urgency. "Its in my house," she gasps, clutching at her chest as if to steady her racing heart. "Something something terrible! Please, you have to help me!" Her voice trembles, breaking into sobs that mingle with the soothing sounds of the waves.
Behind her, the dark silhouette of the two-story villa looms ominously against the backdrop of the forest. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across its facade, making the windows appear like hollow eyes, watching and waiting. The faint outline of the surrounding trees seems to shift and sway, as if alive with unseen forces. "@line
"I thought it was a ghost," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper now, "but its worse. Much worse. Its been trying to get out, and Im scared Im scared it will hurt someone." Her hands shake as she wrings them together, glancing back over her shoulder towards the menacing structure.
The waves continue their rhythmic dance, but the tranquility of the night is shattered by her palpable fear. The distant cry of a seabird echoes eerily in the background, adding to the sense of foreboding that hangs heavily in the air."I didnt know who else to turn to," she admits, tears glistening in her eyes. "I cant stay there but I cant let it get out, either. Please, you have to help me find a way to stop it. To banish it. Before its too late.""
The womans eyes widen with a mix of relief and desperation as she spots the approaching figure. She stumbles towards the voice, her nightgown billowing around her legs, catching in the occasional gust of the cool ocean breeze. Her hair, dark and disheveled, frames her pale face, marked by fear and a frantic urgency. "Its in my house," she gasps, clutching at her chest as if to steady her racing heart. "Something something terrible! Please, you have to help me!" Her voice trembles, breaking into sobs that mingle with the soothing sounds of the waves.
Behind her, the dark silhouette of the two-story villa looms ominously against the backdrop of the forest. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across its facade, making the windows appear like hollow eyes, watching and waiting. The faint outline of the surrounding trees seems to shift and sway, as if alive with unseen forces.
"I thought it was a ghost," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper now, "but its worse. Much worse. Its been trying to get out, and Im scared Im scared it will hurt someone." Her hands shake as she wrings them together, glancing back over her shoulder towards the menacing structure.
The waves continue their rhythmic dance, but the tranquility of the night is shattered by her palpable fear. The distant cry of a seabird echoes eerily in the background, adding to the sense of foreboding that hangs heavily in the air."I didnt know who else to turn to," she admits, tears glistening in her eyes. "I cant stay there but I cant let it get out, either. Please, you have to help me find a way to stop it. To banish it. Before its too late." (fix?)
Freya hesitates as the other woman talks. She was tired. It has been a veryyy long night. Blood still stained the edges of her halter top although on the dark leather hide it pretty well even in the dawn light. Her teal eyes look at the woman begging for help and she sighs. If it wasn't a neighbour... She probably wouldn't consider it. As in.... There isn't much else to do. What if she needed a cup of sugar? Another sigh leaves her as she leaves the water, her feet leaving foot prints all over the sand as she makes her way towards the woman's house. "Alright lets go." She gestures towards the two story siluette.
The woman's relief is immediate, her shoulders sagging as if a great weight has been lifted. She nods rapidly, her breath hitching as she tries to steady herself. "Thank you, thank you," she murmurs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Together, they approach the villa, its dark silhouette growing larger and more imposing with each step. The night is eerily quiet, the only sounds the soft whisper of the waves and the occasional rustle of the forest's leaves. The air grows heavier, the sense of foreboding more palpable as they near the entrance through the grassy path - past a lavish looking, small, suburban garden - The front door stands slightly ajar, swaying gently in the breeze. The woman stops, glancing nervously at the darkened interior. "Its inside," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I can feel it... like its watching us."
A chill runs through the air as they step inside, the coolness of the beach giving way to a more oppressive atmosphere. The house, once a place of comfort, now feels like a prison, its walls closing in around them. The moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows that seem to twist and writhe like living things. The air is thick with an unseen presence, a sense of malevolence that sends a shiver down the spine. The woman moves cautiously, her steps tentative as she leads the way through the dimly lit hallway. "Its been getting stronger," she explains in hushed tones. "At first, it was just noises whispers in the night. But now, its like its trying to break free."
A distant thud echoes from deeper within the house, followed by a low, guttural growl. The woman freezes, her eyes wide with terror. "It knows were here," she says, her voice trembling. "Please we have to do something. Before its too late." The oppressive silence stretches, the house seeming to hold its breath in anticipation. The air crackles with tension, the malevolent presence growing more tangible with each passing moment.
Her relief is immediate, her shoulders sagging as if a great weight has been lifted. She nods rapidly, her breath hitching as she tries to steady herself. "Thank you, thank you," she murmurs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Together, they approach the villa, its dark silhouette growing larger and more imposing with each step. The night is eerily quiet, the only sounds the soft whisper of the waves and the occasional rustle of the forest's leaves. The air grows heavier, the sense of foreboding more palpable as they near the entrance through the grassy path - past a lavish looking, small, suburban garden - The front door stands slightly ajar, swaying gently in the breeze. The woman stops, glancing nervously at the darkened interior. "Its inside," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I can feel it... like its watching us."
A chill runs through the air as they step inside, the coolness of the beach giving way to a more oppressive atmosphere. The house, once a place of comfort, now feels like a prison, its walls closing in around them. The moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows that seem to twist and writhe like living things. The air is thick with an unseen presence, a sense of malevolence that sends a shiver down the spine. The woman moves cautiously, her steps tentative as she leads the way through the dimly lit hallway. "Its been getting stronger," she explains in hushed tones. "At first, it was just noises whispers in the night. But now, its like its trying to break free."
A distant thud echoes from deeper within the house, followed by a low, guttural growl. The woman freezes, her eyes wide with terror. "It knows were here," she says, her voice trembling. "Please we have to do something. Before its too late." The oppressive silence stretches, the house seeming to hold its breath in anticipation. The air crackles with tension, the malevolent presence growing more tangible with each passing moment.
Freya slowly seems to regret deciding to come help the woman the closer they walk. Each step becomes slow, dragging.. Surely it was just that fact that she was tired. And had bare sandy feet that was tracking sand all across the woman's house no less. Dawn was soon and the full moon no longer held it's sway in the sky. She turns to look at the woman. "I.... I think it might be better leaving and coming back later...." Her teal eyes glow as she stares at the woman. "You need to go on holiday." She tells the woman. "You want a trip across the country that's going to last at least a week. You feel like you need to go to glacier national park in Canada and really enjoy the glaciers. You need to leave TODAY. Right now. In what you're wearing. You can buy new clothes in Canada." She intones to the woman.
Freya used hypnosis incase it wasn't clear.
In confusion, she blinks, her eyes momentarily unfocused as the suggestion takes hold. Yet slowly, her expression shifts from fear to a strange, dreamy compliance. "A holiday yes, I need a holiday," she murmurs, almost to herself. "Glacier National Park... Ive always wanted to go." Without another word, she turns on her heel and heads for the door, her steps now purposeful and calm, a stark contrast to her earlier panic. The oppressive atmosphere seems to lighten slightly with her departure, but the malevolent presence remains, lurking in the shadows of the house.
As the woman disappears into the early morning light, the house grows still once more. The eerie silence returns, broken only by the faint creaks and groans of the old structure. The air is heavy with the sense of something waiting, something ancient and dark, bound within these walls. It waits for Freya, no doubt, brandishing claws and hungry fangs.
The hallway stretches ahead, dimly lit by the first rays of dawn filtering through the windows. The moon's influence wanes, but the feeling of being watched persists, an unseen gaze tracking every movement. The growl from deeper within the house resonates again, low and threatening, a reminder that whatever dwells here is far from gone. The shadows seem to pulse, the malevolence growing stronger with each passing moment, as if the entity knows its freedom is within reach. Should Freya decide to leave now - to come back later, something gives the impression there will be no house to evict of a demonic presence, no one to save -- but a free'd creature, with who knows what motive.
Freya shrugs a shoulder as the house waits before her. She was hoping this lot was going to be demolished anyways. Would improve her view of the ocean on that side instead of looming oppresively above her. Her head turns as she leaves the house behind her, letting whatever ghost, demon, bug or whatever wail it's way. Maybe she'll bring her friends to tear it down themselves.... There was a thought...
As Freya steps out of the house, leaving its oppressive presence behind, a sudden and violent tremor shakes the ground beneath her feet. She turns just in time to see the villa's windows shatter outward, a deafening roar splitting the dawn air. In an instant, the house erupts into an inferno of reds and blacks, flames licking hungrily at the sky. The sulfuric scent of brimstone fills the air, acrid and overpowering, making it hard to breathe.
The fire blazes fiercely, consuming the structure with unnatural speed. Shadows dance within the flames, twisting and writhing as if the very essence of the house is being torn apart. A dark, swirling mist rises from the inferno, carrying the stench of sulfur as it drifts towards the ground. The mist seeps into the soil, disappearing without a trace, leaving behind scorched earth where the house once stood.
The sound of the explosion echoes across the beach, the waves crashing more furiously against the shore as if in response to the chaos. The once serene night is now marked by the remnants of the demonic conflagration, the house reduced to smoldering ruins. The oppressive presence that had clung to the air dissipates, leaving behind an eerie silence and a sense of finality.
As the last of the flames flicker out, the first light of dawn breaks fully over the horizon, casting a golden glow on the still-smoldering remains. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt wood and sulfur, a stark reminder of the malevolent force that has been unleashed and then swiftly extinguished- let loose upon the world to do what evil it may -- while Freya, walks away.
(A group of supernatural hunters is out to get your target. Maybe for sport, maybe from ideology, in either case they need to survive for long enough that their allies can come and help them deal with the threat.
)
The full moon had just started to start it's sleepy dip towards the horizon having been drawing the lunacy of werewolves in Haven all night. The poor HSD department has had dozens of complaints of wolf howling from people asking if they could just go 'shoot the wolves' only to be told that it was a impossible task. And surely it would've been exactly that given the howls came from all across town. It seems like Haven has suddenly gone from being a town with no wolves to a town suddenly bristling with them and there were... teething issues.
Over in emergency, people were screaming as good old fashioned medicine came into play. Cauterization. It was so old fashioned that infact probably no emergency department in all of the continental USA would have the set up for it. But haven did. And people with their scratch marks, bite marks - whether it was from a cat in the dark that they swore were a werewolf or an actual werewolf which face it were really rather rare and didn't go to town that much - were getting their wounds burned off in order to not spread the disease.
At least it wasn't the night before where there were reports of a house sized wolf roaming town. Although it is those reports that bring this pack of hunters to the forest near Sidney Beach.
Four men, dressed in camouflage uniform waited in the trees for the moon to set. They knew lunacy was often a tiring affair. Leaving wolves exhausted from their rampaging and it was the time when the moon set.. that they were at their weakest. Still gluttoned from their strength earlier, still riding that high of the night, it is when wolves are their least aware.
The reports from the night before had started here... On Sidney beach.. Infront of that Hometown diner and infact.. they had confirmed it with the giant pawprint the creature had left in the flower bed right outside of the window to the diner. There had also been a imprint of an absolutely massive set of jaws fogged against the glass.
Finally as the first rays of the sun pass over the horizon, their leader, a dark haired, dark eyed man named Vor raises his hand. "I think we got ourselves one boys." He drawls softly in what must be a Texan accent. Texas man. The state where you're allowed to own a kangaroo or a lion just for fun.
Four sets of hands check their weapons. Silver gleamed in every bullet belted across their bodies. Clips of specialized silver bullets, holding liquid silver were tucked into holders on their waist. Each and every one of them were professional to the core.
"Holy fuck I think I'm stiff from the waiting." Another man, this one blonde haired and blue eyed cracks his knuckles before checking for the neutralizer dart in his shirt pocket. His hand comes up to crack his neck next. "I can't wait to tie this one up and skin'm." The accented voice oozes with delight at the fantasy he had dreamt up while waiting, "We gonna gas it?"
"Nah we gonna see if it falls for our trap first. Them are dumb beasts ya know." The third man voice is gruff and low, like he had smoked a few too many packets of cigarettes. Infact the scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, blown by the north wind down towards where Dean was slowly coming up along the beach. Ted the man was called stubs his toe over a cigarette butt, grinding it into the dirt. "Then if he doen't- we're going to go out and shoot him. Make it so he can't shift." Crooked teeth grin, "Aint that gonna be great."
The fourth man - Ben, just waits, silently, his rifle lifted to his eye as if he couldn't wait to start shooting.
From the trees, they eagerly waist and watch as Dean made his way slowly across the beach. By the bonfire which seems to be ever burning, there was a large leg of what appeared to be venison that had been left out. Someone wanting to do a night roast? There was no else on the beach in that early morning except for some distant joggers jogging down the other side of the beach. The venison was rare but dressed and had been left on a spear of wood so that it wasn't touching the ground or anything. Still .. somewhat odd. But one's loss is another man's win.
seated by the manicured sands that are lapped endlessly by the water drifting languid and slow beneath the last dregs of the moon waning above the sky, Dean pokes a stick he has in his hand into the bonfire in front of him. The embers are stirred, swirled, prodded repeatedly while green eyes, dark, lost, stare into the faint, weak flames with an air of solemn silence. Whatever thoughts plague his mind, they fester here, the lunacy that bears too heavy, th metallic taste in his mouth. Who knows what he had done to earn that start, red mark climbing up the side of his face to marr his pale skin in crimson. What could've happened, that he now sits here in tattered clothes, dragging a distracted tongue over his upper canids stained with blood to lick it off.
Much to the chagrin of the men that laid their trap, he had arrived much earlier, sat down, and spent what may have easily been an hour watching the fire and the rising sun in equal measure and distraction. For whatever the reason may be, Dean stabs the stick in his hand into the burning charcoal, leaves it suspended -- then, from where he sits angles a kick at the whole thing. The bonfire jostles - the meat falls into the fire, and him - the wolf, their target, slowly turns his head to the noise, the smell of cigarettes, the sound of heartbeats. Green eyes pierce through the veil of their hidden crevasse immediately - as if no amount of darkness could obscure his eyes, but his expression, it remains calculative, modulated, eyes narrow, lips thin, straight line.
Dean seated by the manicured sands that are lapped endlessly by the water drifting languid and slow beneath the last dregs of the moon waning above the sky, Dean pokes a stick he has in his hand into the bonfire in front of him. The embers are stirred, swirled, prodded repeatedly while green eyes, dark, lost, stare into the faint, weak flames with an air of solemn silence. Whatever thoughts plague his mind, they fester here, the lunacy that bears too heavy, th metallic taste in his mouth. Who knows what he had done to earn that start, red mark climbing up the side of his face to marr his pale skin in crimson. What could've happened, that he now sits here in tattered clothes, dragging a distracted tongue over his upper canids stained with blood to lick it off.
Much to the chagrin of the men that laid their trap, he had arrived much earlier, sat down, and spent what may have easily been an hour watching the fire and the rising sun in equal measure and distraction. For whatever the reason may be, Dean stabs the stick in his hand into the burning charcoal, leaves it suspended -- then, from where he sits angles a kick at the whole thing. The bonfire jostles - the meat falls into the fire, and him - the wolf, their target, slowly turns his head to the noise, the smell of cigarettes, the sound of heartbeats. Green eyes pierce through the veil of their hidden crevasse immediately - as if no amount of darkness could obscure his eyes, but his expression, it remains calculative, modulated, eyes narrow, lips thin, straight line.
"Shit... How long as he been waiting there for?" The hunters mutter amongst themselves as the meat falls into the fire. "Did you doze off?" Ted was being accusatory of Ben who had supposed to be their lookout. "What? No I .... can't have been that long." Ben pulls his face back from the rifle and there's a imprint of a rifle scope around his eye. Maybe he had fallen asleep leaning against the rifle scope... The four hunters look at each other grimly and then Ben - being the one that had done this fucked up seems determined to correct it. He lifts the scope, sets it back against his eye where the imprint is pretty damn deep and sets his sights on Dean. "Fuck it. It's just one shot right. I don't think will kill him.. so." He stares really hard across the sand at the man next to the bonfire and his finger squeezes down on the trigger of the long ranged rifle that had a silence on it. The silver bullet races across the sand towards Dean.
Poor hunter, the only sight he would see through the scope of his rifle would be of Dean - staring into his gaze through it. Entirely, uncannily aware. Before the pull of the trigger, the green of his eyes flits towards the others waiting in the darkness - pass by each and every one of them -- and whene the bullet explodes.. Dean is gone. There is only a silver mist that wreaths where he was, exploding in a plume like a cloud borne out of moonlight, sparkling and agleam, slowly dissipating, and he's nowhere to be seen.
Actually, that's a lie. Dean is only unseen, to them. The tendrils of mist wisping and creeping had erupted forward through the sand, glimmering into the shrubbery and the darkness like a ray of light - and in that grim darkness, hidden in silence behind all of them just a few paces behind, is Dean - silent, still, glowing green eyes full of vehement fury and the only part of him visible in the shadows - if they were to turn around at all. He doesn't do anything yet, and in contemplation, vitriolic aggression, an inhumane curiosity heralded by a monstrosity so close to his skin at this time of the month, he watches them.
"What the!!" Ben lowers his rifle as he stares at where the man WAS. Emphasis on the word WAS. The man is no longer there anymore. All four hunters look at each other bewildered. Their leader, Vor raises his binoculars to his eyes and looks around the beach as if thinking that the man might've ducked behind the bonfire or something. "What the fuck???" He hisses as he sets his other hand on his hips. "Look for him! He has to be here somewhere! Wolves don't just... disappear." There is more swearing as the group fans out slightly, all their eyes still on that beach. None of them looking backwards behind them... thinking that they were safe this close to the town. Surely no monsters lurked... This close to town right?
At the very back, the 2nd hunter, blue eyed baby blonde James rubs the back of his neck as if he felt someone's gaze... Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder.
"What the!!" Ben lowers his rifle as he stares at where the man WAS. Emphasis on the word WAS. The man is no longer there anymore. All four hunters look at each other bewildered. Their leader, Vor raises his binoculars to his eyes and looks around the beach as if thinking that the man might've ducked behind the bonfire or something. "What the fuck???" He hisses as he sets his other hand on his hips. "Look for him! He has to be here somewhere! Wolves don't just... disappear." There is more swearing as the group fans out slightly, all their eyes still on that beach. None of them looking backwards behind them... thinking that they were safe this close to the town. Surely no monsters lurked... This close to town right?
At the very back, the 2nd hunter, blue eyed baby blonde James rubs the back of his neck as if he felt someone's gaze... Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder.
Baby blonde James might be the poster boy for the unluckiest man alive today. Dean, right there on the back of all of them, still watching in his looming position, tilts his head down and low at the bunch. He's still entirely human - or so it seems, even if only green orbs peer out at the group, visible in his dark enclosure beneath the edge of the beach where it bleeds into the woods. His jaw cracks, side to side - and behind them all, now that he's seen, a cruel growl starts to rise from his throat, snarl heavy, overbearing, oppressive -- whatever expression it spills from, unseen by all.
Juniper is just going for a walk down the sands of Sidney beach looking for a... friend that was supposed to be somewhere around here. Instead she's seeing a group of men unfamiliar to her. Armed and agitated.
"Shit shit!" As Juniper walks along the beach she can see movement in the trees infront of the beach where it reaches the forest. There were four people in camo gear, holding rifles and they seem to run out of the trees as if chased by -something. There is a ton of swearing as they turn back towards the forest and start shooting blindly into the trees. "Fuck that shit! Oh my god!" A blonde haired blue eyed man is the first to dash out of the trees, his camo pants holding a hint of a dark stain spreading across his groin. Was this his first hunt? Maybe. His rifle shoots into the trees until it clicks empty and then he starts to shakily reload it. "Hold!" Their leader, a dark haired dark eyed man - Vor yells out, all of them ignoring someone at their backs. "Surely whatever it is is dead?" He shoots another shot into the darkness to check.
"Shit shit!" As Juniper walks along the beach she can see movement in the trees infront of the beach where it reaches the forest. There were four people in camo gear, holding rifles and they seem to run out of the trees as if chased by -something. There is a ton of swearing as they turn back towards the forest and start shooting blindly into the trees. "Fuck that shit! Oh my god!" A blonde haired blue eyed man is the first to dash out of the trees, his camo pants holding a hint of a dark stain spreading across his groin. Was this his first hunt? Maybe. His rifle shoots into the trees until it clicks empty and then he starts to shakily reload it. "Hold!" Their leader, a dark haired dark eyed man - Vor yells out, all of them ignoring Juniper at their backs. "Surely whatever it is is dead?" He shoots another shot into the darkness to check.
Whatever that chased the group out, it is most definitely not dead under that disaster of a barrage. What follows, however, is a horrid sound. Bones cracking, skin tearing - it is inhuman, cruel, split with a snarl like a tiger escaped the zoo enclosure -- but there is no zoo in Haven. There are only monsters, and one of them, it is stirred in the dying embers of his lunacy. Those green eyes that previously beheld them when they were within reach, it disappears when they leave.
When they are within sight again, it is only because Dean(wolf) is striding forward. Bush, trunk, rock - all crushed under a massive paw while he takes one step after another -- easily, far too easily massive and large enough to devour half of a man in a single bite. Through bristling fur, a shaking of his head like a beast stunned in madness, he starts to snarl again. It is a lot deeper, guttural and vicious while withdrawn lips of a wolf bare savage, lethal and long fangs at the fleeing hunters in his unrushed, step-by-step chase.
Juniper narrows her eyes at the scene. Surely men out hunting in the woods isn't exactly entirely unexpected for the area. Something wild and scary being in those woods? Also not a suprise. But something just doesn't feel right to Juniper as she freezes - her eyes switching to the line where beach meets woods.
When Dean(wolf) emerges from the trees, it looks like he has the situation well in hand - but a growl forms in Juniper's throat as she realizes what and /who/ they had been hunting. With the power of some surprise on her side, she lets out a snarl as she lets the other side of her take over to join Dean(wolf) in his retribution.
The group was expecting a house sized wolf. The group was wanting a house sized wolf. Except when confronted with a house size wolf the group was.... Not ready. Ben runs screaming, dropping his rifle as he books it straight towards Juniper. "Oh my god OH MY GOD!!!" He wails as he runs, kindof in a duckish way really because his combat boots were stomping on the sand.
Behind him, Vor just rolls his eyes as he lifts his shotgun full of silver pellets and fires it in Dean(wolf)'s direction. "Die you fucker! We want your pelt!!" He yells as he pumps shot after shot into the forest, letting the other two cover him with their rifle fire as he reloads the pellets every second shot. Shell casings start to tumble to the ground as they try to get some of the silver material into Dean(wolf).
The pellets put an end to Dean(wolf)'s approach. He stops in his tracks, takes the brunt of a shot with his shoulder -- and reels. There is a sudden sway to him, then, a monstrous roar. His jaw just about splits - and it is nothing like a regular wolf that does it while fangs line up high to wolven cheekbones near his eyes. They not only got a house sized wolf, but a practical monster that now snarls, and through that viciously cruel maw, inky pools of lycanid venom spills over his fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is amiss in his sudden bloodlust, the rage that overtakes him entirely - and Dean(wolf) leaps, forward, ahead - in the span of a single breath upon the man that shot his shot, and only made some midnight beast more furious. His whole, massive body skids in the last stretch to near the ground, to approach the man, and jaws clamp around his body, squeeze tight, draw blood -- drain it straight down his throat while he lifts the man high to the air and growls in fury -- then starts to shake him like a toy- one chucked away, very, very away, straight into the sea without a care for whether he'd drown or die. Green eyes and a maw now stained in blood, dripping it just as he drip the venom, stare at the other two, now, as well as someone, who earns a growl of recognition, by simple scent if nothing else.
The pellets put an end to Dean(wolf)'s approach. He stops in his tracks, takes the brunt of a shot with his shoulder -- and reels. There is a sudden sway to him, then, a monstrous roar. His jaw just about splits - and it is nothing like a regular wolf that does it while fangs line up high to wolven cheekbones near his eyes. They not only got a house sized wolf, but a practical monster that now snarls, and through that viciously cruel maw, inky pools of lycanid venom spills over his fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is amiss in his sudden bloodlust, the rage that overtakes him entirely - and Dean(wolf) leaps, forward, ahead - in the span of a single breath upon the man that shot his shot, and only made some midnight beast more furious. His whole, massive body skids in the last stretch to near the ground, to approach the man, and jaws clamp around his body, squeeze tight, draw blood -- drain it straight down his throat while he lifts the man high to the air and growls in fury -- then starts to shake him like a toy- one chucked away, very, very away, straight into the sea without a care for whether he'd drown or die. Green eyes and a maw now stained in blood, dripping it just as he drip the venom, stare at the other two, now, as well as Juniper(wolf), who earns a growl of recognition, by simple scent if nothing else.
There is only screams of fear as Dean(wolf) comes out the forest despite taking those shots. Vor is one of those guys that shouts at the top of his voice as he pumps more pellets into his shotgun - trying to get that one last shot into the face of Dean(wolf), determined that he wouldn't run away from the beast. Still, Dean(wolf)'s fur is thick and the man's consistancy is smokey at best and the shot grazes his fur, maybe a pelette or two of the silver gets lodged before the man disappears into the man's mouth. The other - screams as he's chucked into the ocean, landing with a splash and a loud thud but he's on his feet before too long, scrambling to run away further along the beach. The remaining one - Ted flees along with Ben who had had a great head start and was running and running... until he runs into Juniper(wolf). "Another wolf!!!" He screams, terrified. "How many fucking wolves are there in this town?" Ben clearly did not get the memo or listen to all the wolves howling all through the night.
As a wolf, Juniper(wolf) lets out a loud snarl followed by a vibrating growl to meet the men running down the beach with a menacing presence. Surprise backup for Dean(wolf) though certainly considerably less nightmarish. Her own giant fangs are brandished with dripping saliva, putting on her best feral display while the hackles on her back raise up, creating the illusion of even more wolf to contend with.
And then she launches towards this 'Ben' who screams, aiming straight for his gun arm's shoulder to take him down with a giant wolf maw and the weight of her charge.
Ben falls with a scream as Juniper(wolf) tackles him onto the ground - he is just a human after all. One that threw aside his rifle because he wasn't able to reload it. He holds his arms up to try and push Juniper(wolf) off him as he screams non stop.
Agitated sounds plague Dean(wolf)'s snarls after he's done with one, and has turned on the next. With the rest fleeing towards Juniper(wolf), Dean(wolf) starts to shamble forward once more- even if they've gained quite the distance. Pain accompanies each motion with the silver pellets embedded into his fur, onto his skin - they've failed to pierce him fully, but there is no doubt a rash growing there already. As the other wolf catches one, he shows he's no slouch. On the contrary, Dean(wolf) begins to increase his pace. Earth-shaking steps quake he ground, and he leaps -- just to disappear in a silver mist like he never was.
When he appears again, the ray of light that had carried him, the mist he rode on, it leaves him erupting out of nothing and straight into view from above, like an arctic fox diving for mice under snow -- except a lot, a lot more massive, and cruel in intent when he crashes on the other one that Juniper(wolf) hadn't gone after, step down on him, and let his massive maw close in on their whole torso to bite them into the ground savagely.
If it wasn't obvious, immediately, there is a wicked restriction to Dean(wolf)'s actions. He's not giving debilitating, life-threatening injuries. Only severe ones where he chews on any he's caught, perhaps with the intention to let them have a piece of the moonlight. Whether the lycantrophy takes or not, the hunters would be left to their own fate.
Ted had been running... Running for his life, fleeing from the wolf behind him and the wolf next to him that was taking down Ben and not himself and then...... A giant shadow had appeared over his head. Next thing he knows is that the giant shadow had fallen onto him and the man tumbles down onto the ground in a daze underneath Dean(wolf) before he gets practically mauled by Dean(wolf)'s teeth. Blood pools underneath him, flows everywhere and maybe it would be better for him to be dead.. But his body does go limp. Far on the other side of the beach, the one member on his feet limping away keeps trying to make his way further north - away from the action. And someone. Poor someone was not having a good time at all with Juniper(wolf).
Ted had been running... Running for his life, fleeing from the wolf behind him and the wolf next to him that was taking down Ben and not himself and then...... A giant shadow had appeared over his head. Next thing he knows is that the giant shadow had fallen onto him and the man tumbles down onto the ground in a daze underneath Dean(wolf) before he gets practically mauled by Dean(wolf)'s teeth. Blood pools underneath him, flows everywhere and maybe it would be better for him to be dead.. But his body does go limp. Far on the other side of the beach, the one member on his feet limping away keeps trying to make his way further north - away from the action. And Ben... Poor Ben was not having a good time at all with Juniper(wolf).
Juniper(wolf) crunches through muscle and collar bone as she closes her jaw around the man's shoulder area. She too is not going for the kill but she's certainly not letting this one off easy. A large paw on his chest holds him down while she pierces through and then lets go to shake him with a throaty snarl. His arm could very likely come close to detached at this rate, the way she severs and applies the action.
The man underneath Juniper(wolf) faints from the pain as bone of his shoulder and rib cage is shown glistening ot the light. The beach is suddenly very very quiet. Everyone else having heard all the howling through the last two nights... and especially at the reappearance of the house sized wolf... Disappearing VERY quickly from view.
The last of the group, Dean(wolf) doesn't give chase - he simply shoves away the half-corpse of a man under his paw away, turns around to start stalking away back towards the tree-line, where he, presumably, left his clothes. Muscles convulse and shrink, the once-powerful limbs losing their supernatural strength. The thick, coarse fur retracts into the skin, leaving patches of raw, pink flesh exposed. Bones snap and grind, realigning into a more familiar, human structure. The once-lethal claws splinter and retract, leaving behind bloodied, human fingers. The wolf's snout shortens with a grotesque crunch, fangs dissolving into more manageable human teeth. The glowing green eyes dim, shifting to a more familiar human hue. His spine contorts painfully, vertebrae cracking and shifting back into place as he transitions from four legs to two. The agony of the transformation is evident in his guttural groans and gasps. His body, now mostly human, shudders violently as the last vestiges of the beast are stripped away. Muscles soften, skin smooths over, and the dark fur is entirely gone, replaced by bare, vulnerable human flesh.
The sun slowly rises up from the horizon on the two left remaining on the beach. Three bodies lie around and one can only hope someone had called the HSD or the ambulence. Or maybe they were better off left bleeding to death. The one Dean had bitten through the stomach was certainly going to have to deal with a long battle with sepsis given the amount of bowel that was perforated. It stinks up the air encouraging the wolves to leave.
The sun slowly rises up from the horizon on the two left remaining on the beach. Three bodies lie around and one can only hope someone had called the HSD or the ambulence. Or maybe they were better off left bleeding to death. The one Dean had bitten through the stomach was certainly going to have to deal with a long battle with sepsis given the amount of bowel that was perforated. It stinks up the air encouraging the wolves to leave. (repost)
Juniper(wolf) lets go of the unconscious man but stands over his body in a dominant manner with another loud growl as if to dare any of them to get back up again. With the way Dean laid waste though, it isn't likely. She huffs once, twice and licks at her teeth before she steps away and plods back to her things like Dean had done. As if it were simply another day, she shifts back and gets dressed.
In a separate encounter, a group of hunters arrived at Sidney Beach, driven by reports of a colossal wolf. Their intention was to capture and kill the beast for sport. They set up a trap but were unsettled when Dean, the target of their hunt, demonstrated an uncanny awareness and vanished before their eyes, only to reappear as a massive wolf. Juniper, another wolf, stumbled upon the scene, and together, they turned the tables on their hunters. The ensuing chaos saw the hunters outmatched, with Dean and Juniper inflicting severe but non-lethal damage, marking them with the curse of lycanthropy. As the hunters fled or were incapacitated, Dean and Juniper retreated, their point brutally made. The beach was left in disarray, scattered with the aftermath of the skirmish and the grim reminder of the encounter's ferocity. The incident served as a stark warning to others of the strength and territorial nature of the wolves in Haven, ensuring their legend would grow even darker in the tales told by those who dared tread too closely to their domain.
(Freya's odd encounter(SRDean):SRDean)
[Sat Jul 20 2024]
At Sidney Beach
It is morning, about 85F(29C) degrees,
(Your target has been contacted by a distressed citizen who claims their house is haunted. Through their investigation, the characters discover it's not a ghost, but a demon that's been trapped in the house, trying to escape. They need to devise a plan to banish or re-trap the demon without causing harm to the innocent inhabitants of the house.)
The moon hangs low in the night sky, a luminous orb casting its silvery glow upon the tranquil expanse of sand below. The beach stretches out in a gentle arc, a serene and untouched canvas of pale gold, softly illuminated by the moon's ethereal light. The sand, cool and fine, sifts easily beneath the breeze's gentle touch, whispering secrets of the ocean, of what lies within its dark and unforgiving depths laid to Freya's sight. At this time of the night, just before the first rays of the morning rays rise from the far end of the horizon.
To the east, the Atlantic Ocean sprawls endlessly, its surface a shimmering mirror reflecting the celestial, waning dance of stars from above as they're drowned by the filtered light of the sun, while the waves, gentle and rhythmic, laps at the shore with a soothing, repetitive murmur. Each crest and trough caught the moonlight creates a sparkling tapestry of liquid silver that ebbed and flowed with the tide's unerring rhythm. The sea's vastness was both humbling and mesmerizing, an infinite stretch that seemed to meld with the horizon, where the darkened sky met the shimmering water in an almost indistinguishable line.
The air was filled with the salt-kissed scent of the sea, a briny tang that mingled with the earthy fragrance of the damp sand. A faint breeze plays along the shoreline, here and now, stirring the air with a cool caress that whispered through the sparse dunes, their grasses tucked sparely in the sand swaying gently as if in a nocturnal dance. The occasional cry of a distant seabird pierced the stillness, its call echoing across the open expanse, only to be swallowed by the vast silence that dominated the scene.
Here, in this secluded sanctuary, time seemed to stand still. The world beyond felt like a distant memory, replaced by the serene simplicity of nature's quiet grandeur. The waning full moon bathed the beach in a soft, otherworldly light, casting long, delicate shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the waves - and in opposition, the sun peeking from the other end illuminates the sea in a haze of glory and an early morning mist upon the far, distant waves. The night's deep, profound tranquility offers a fleeting, silent symphony of nature's most gentle elements- but it is soon to be broken. This is Haven, after all.@line
That place of solitude and reflection, where the soul could find peace in the rhythmic lullaby of the sea, is broken by a shrill gasp - of someone fleeing their abode. Freya's neighbour, it would seem. The woman that held the two-story villa south of her own house, closer to the foret, on another stretch of the beach. As of yet, she hasn't noted Freya, but Freya can easily note her - her panicked look searching for her before she yells- "Anyone! Anyone, please!" Not that they had ever met before - who even speaks to their neighbors now with friendly intent in 2024? There is nonetheless familiarity towards the disheveled brunette in her nightgown.
Freya was walking her way slowly down the beach, cooling from the night of lunacy. Her bare feet slowly makes her way through the surf, the water flowing forward over ankles over and over as she lets the chill of the atlantic ocean take away the warmth of the night. Her head lifts slowly as she notices the other woman yelling, "Hey what's wrong?" She asks softly as she makes her way down the beach towards the other woman.
The womans eyes widen with a mix of relief and desperation as she spots the approaching figure. She stumbles towards the voice, her nightgown billowing around her legs, catching in the occasional gust of the cool ocean breeze. Her hair, dark and disheveled, frames her pale face, marked by fear and a frantic urgency. "Its in my house," she gasps, clutching at her chest as if to steady her racing heart. "Something something terrible! Please, you have to help me!" Her voice trembles, breaking into sobs that mingle with the soothing sounds of the waves.
Behind her, the dark silhouette of the two-story villa looms ominously against the backdrop of the forest. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across its facade, making the windows appear like hollow eyes, watching and waiting. The faint outline of the surrounding trees seems to shift and sway, as if alive with unseen forces. "@line
"I thought it was a ghost," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper now, "but its worse. Much worse. Its been trying to get out, and Im scared Im scared it will hurt someone." Her hands shake as she wrings them together, glancing back over her shoulder towards the menacing structure.
The waves continue their rhythmic dance, but the tranquility of the night is shattered by her palpable fear. The distant cry of a seabird echoes eerily in the background, adding to the sense of foreboding that hangs heavily in the air."I didnt know who else to turn to," she admits, tears glistening in her eyes. "I cant stay there but I cant let it get out, either. Please, you have to help me find a way to stop it. To banish it. Before its too late.""
The womans eyes widen with a mix of relief and desperation as she spots the approaching figure. She stumbles towards the voice, her nightgown billowing around her legs, catching in the occasional gust of the cool ocean breeze. Her hair, dark and disheveled, frames her pale face, marked by fear and a frantic urgency. "Its in my house," she gasps, clutching at her chest as if to steady her racing heart. "Something something terrible! Please, you have to help me!" Her voice trembles, breaking into sobs that mingle with the soothing sounds of the waves.
Behind her, the dark silhouette of the two-story villa looms ominously against the backdrop of the forest. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across its facade, making the windows appear like hollow eyes, watching and waiting. The faint outline of the surrounding trees seems to shift and sway, as if alive with unseen forces.
"I thought it was a ghost," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper now, "but its worse. Much worse. Its been trying to get out, and Im scared Im scared it will hurt someone." Her hands shake as she wrings them together, glancing back over her shoulder towards the menacing structure.
The waves continue their rhythmic dance, but the tranquility of the night is shattered by her palpable fear. The distant cry of a seabird echoes eerily in the background, adding to the sense of foreboding that hangs heavily in the air."I didnt know who else to turn to," she admits, tears glistening in her eyes. "I cant stay there but I cant let it get out, either. Please, you have to help me find a way to stop it. To banish it. Before its too late." (fix?)
Freya hesitates as the other woman talks. She was tired. It has been a veryyy long night. Blood still stained the edges of her halter top although on the dark leather hide it pretty well even in the dawn light. Her teal eyes look at the woman begging for help and she sighs. If it wasn't a neighbour... She probably wouldn't consider it. As in.... There isn't much else to do. What if she needed a cup of sugar? Another sigh leaves her as she leaves the water, her feet leaving foot prints all over the sand as she makes her way towards the woman's house. "Alright lets go." She gestures towards the two story siluette.
The woman's relief is immediate, her shoulders sagging as if a great weight has been lifted. She nods rapidly, her breath hitching as she tries to steady herself. "Thank you, thank you," she murmurs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Together, they approach the villa, its dark silhouette growing larger and more imposing with each step. The night is eerily quiet, the only sounds the soft whisper of the waves and the occasional rustle of the forest's leaves. The air grows heavier, the sense of foreboding more palpable as they near the entrance through the grassy path - past a lavish looking, small, suburban garden - The front door stands slightly ajar, swaying gently in the breeze. The woman stops, glancing nervously at the darkened interior. "Its inside," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I can feel it... like its watching us."
A chill runs through the air as they step inside, the coolness of the beach giving way to a more oppressive atmosphere. The house, once a place of comfort, now feels like a prison, its walls closing in around them. The moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows that seem to twist and writhe like living things. The air is thick with an unseen presence, a sense of malevolence that sends a shiver down the spine. The woman moves cautiously, her steps tentative as she leads the way through the dimly lit hallway. "Its been getting stronger," she explains in hushed tones. "At first, it was just noises whispers in the night. But now, its like its trying to break free."
A distant thud echoes from deeper within the house, followed by a low, guttural growl. The woman freezes, her eyes wide with terror. "It knows were here," she says, her voice trembling. "Please we have to do something. Before its too late." The oppressive silence stretches, the house seeming to hold its breath in anticipation. The air crackles with tension, the malevolent presence growing more tangible with each passing moment.
Her relief is immediate, her shoulders sagging as if a great weight has been lifted. She nods rapidly, her breath hitching as she tries to steady herself. "Thank you, thank you," she murmurs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Together, they approach the villa, its dark silhouette growing larger and more imposing with each step. The night is eerily quiet, the only sounds the soft whisper of the waves and the occasional rustle of the forest's leaves. The air grows heavier, the sense of foreboding more palpable as they near the entrance through the grassy path - past a lavish looking, small, suburban garden - The front door stands slightly ajar, swaying gently in the breeze. The woman stops, glancing nervously at the darkened interior. "Its inside," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I can feel it... like its watching us."
A chill runs through the air as they step inside, the coolness of the beach giving way to a more oppressive atmosphere. The house, once a place of comfort, now feels like a prison, its walls closing in around them. The moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows that seem to twist and writhe like living things. The air is thick with an unseen presence, a sense of malevolence that sends a shiver down the spine. The woman moves cautiously, her steps tentative as she leads the way through the dimly lit hallway. "Its been getting stronger," she explains in hushed tones. "At first, it was just noises whispers in the night. But now, its like its trying to break free."
A distant thud echoes from deeper within the house, followed by a low, guttural growl. The woman freezes, her eyes wide with terror. "It knows were here," she says, her voice trembling. "Please we have to do something. Before its too late." The oppressive silence stretches, the house seeming to hold its breath in anticipation. The air crackles with tension, the malevolent presence growing more tangible with each passing moment.
Freya slowly seems to regret deciding to come help the woman the closer they walk. Each step becomes slow, dragging.. Surely it was just that fact that she was tired. And had bare sandy feet that was tracking sand all across the woman's house no less. Dawn was soon and the full moon no longer held it's sway in the sky. She turns to look at the woman. "I.... I think it might be better leaving and coming back later...." Her teal eyes glow as she stares at the woman. "You need to go on holiday." She tells the woman. "You want a trip across the country that's going to last at least a week. You feel like you need to go to glacier national park in Canada and really enjoy the glaciers. You need to leave TODAY. Right now. In what you're wearing. You can buy new clothes in Canada." She intones to the woman.
Freya used hypnosis incase it wasn't clear.
In confusion, she blinks, her eyes momentarily unfocused as the suggestion takes hold. Yet slowly, her expression shifts from fear to a strange, dreamy compliance. "A holiday yes, I need a holiday," she murmurs, almost to herself. "Glacier National Park... Ive always wanted to go." Without another word, she turns on her heel and heads for the door, her steps now purposeful and calm, a stark contrast to her earlier panic. The oppressive atmosphere seems to lighten slightly with her departure, but the malevolent presence remains, lurking in the shadows of the house.
As the woman disappears into the early morning light, the house grows still once more. The eerie silence returns, broken only by the faint creaks and groans of the old structure. The air is heavy with the sense of something waiting, something ancient and dark, bound within these walls. It waits for Freya, no doubt, brandishing claws and hungry fangs.
The hallway stretches ahead, dimly lit by the first rays of dawn filtering through the windows. The moon's influence wanes, but the feeling of being watched persists, an unseen gaze tracking every movement. The growl from deeper within the house resonates again, low and threatening, a reminder that whatever dwells here is far from gone. The shadows seem to pulse, the malevolence growing stronger with each passing moment, as if the entity knows its freedom is within reach. Should Freya decide to leave now - to come back later, something gives the impression there will be no house to evict of a demonic presence, no one to save -- but a free'd creature, with who knows what motive.
Freya shrugs a shoulder as the house waits before her. She was hoping this lot was going to be demolished anyways. Would improve her view of the ocean on that side instead of looming oppresively above her. Her head turns as she leaves the house behind her, letting whatever ghost, demon, bug or whatever wail it's way. Maybe she'll bring her friends to tear it down themselves.... There was a thought...
As Freya steps out of the house, leaving its oppressive presence behind, a sudden and violent tremor shakes the ground beneath her feet. She turns just in time to see the villa's windows shatter outward, a deafening roar splitting the dawn air. In an instant, the house erupts into an inferno of reds and blacks, flames licking hungrily at the sky. The sulfuric scent of brimstone fills the air, acrid and overpowering, making it hard to breathe.
The fire blazes fiercely, consuming the structure with unnatural speed. Shadows dance within the flames, twisting and writhing as if the very essence of the house is being torn apart. A dark, swirling mist rises from the inferno, carrying the stench of sulfur as it drifts towards the ground. The mist seeps into the soil, disappearing without a trace, leaving behind scorched earth where the house once stood.
The sound of the explosion echoes across the beach, the waves crashing more furiously against the shore as if in response to the chaos. The once serene night is now marked by the remnants of the demonic conflagration, the house reduced to smoldering ruins. The oppressive presence that had clung to the air dissipates, leaving behind an eerie silence and a sense of finality.
As the last of the flames flicker out, the first light of dawn breaks fully over the horizon, casting a golden glow on the still-smoldering remains. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt wood and sulfur, a stark reminder of the malevolent force that has been unleashed and then swiftly extinguished- let loose upon the world to do what evil it may -- while Freya, walks away.
(A group of supernatural hunters is out to get your target. Maybe for sport, maybe from ideology, in either case they need to survive for long enough that their allies can come and help them deal with the threat.
)
The full moon had just started to start it's sleepy dip towards the horizon having been drawing the lunacy of werewolves in Haven all night. The poor HSD department has had dozens of complaints of wolf howling from people asking if they could just go 'shoot the wolves' only to be told that it was a impossible task. And surely it would've been exactly that given the howls came from all across town. It seems like Haven has suddenly gone from being a town with no wolves to a town suddenly bristling with them and there were... teething issues.
Over in emergency, people were screaming as good old fashioned medicine came into play. Cauterization. It was so old fashioned that infact probably no emergency department in all of the continental USA would have the set up for it. But haven did. And people with their scratch marks, bite marks - whether it was from a cat in the dark that they swore were a werewolf or an actual werewolf which face it were really rather rare and didn't go to town that much - were getting their wounds burned off in order to not spread the disease.
At least it wasn't the night before where there were reports of a house sized wolf roaming town. Although it is those reports that bring this pack of hunters to the forest near Sidney Beach.
Four men, dressed in camouflage uniform waited in the trees for the moon to set. They knew lunacy was often a tiring affair. Leaving wolves exhausted from their rampaging and it was the time when the moon set.. that they were at their weakest. Still gluttoned from their strength earlier, still riding that high of the night, it is when wolves are their least aware.
The reports from the night before had started here... On Sidney beach.. Infront of that Hometown diner and infact.. they had confirmed it with the giant pawprint the creature had left in the flower bed right outside of the window to the diner. There had also been a imprint of an absolutely massive set of jaws fogged against the glass.
Finally as the first rays of the sun pass over the horizon, their leader, a dark haired, dark eyed man named Vor raises his hand. "I think we got ourselves one boys." He drawls softly in what must be a Texan accent. Texas man. The state where you're allowed to own a kangaroo or a lion just for fun.
Four sets of hands check their weapons. Silver gleamed in every bullet belted across their bodies. Clips of specialized silver bullets, holding liquid silver were tucked into holders on their waist. Each and every one of them were professional to the core.
"Holy fuck I think I'm stiff from the waiting." Another man, this one blonde haired and blue eyed cracks his knuckles before checking for the neutralizer dart in his shirt pocket. His hand comes up to crack his neck next. "I can't wait to tie this one up and skin'm." The accented voice oozes with delight at the fantasy he had dreamt up while waiting, "We gonna gas it?"
"Nah we gonna see if it falls for our trap first. Them are dumb beasts ya know." The third man voice is gruff and low, like he had smoked a few too many packets of cigarettes. Infact the scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, blown by the north wind down towards where Dean was slowly coming up along the beach. Ted the man was called stubs his toe over a cigarette butt, grinding it into the dirt. "Then if he doen't- we're going to go out and shoot him. Make it so he can't shift." Crooked teeth grin, "Aint that gonna be great."
The fourth man - Ben, just waits, silently, his rifle lifted to his eye as if he couldn't wait to start shooting.
From the trees, they eagerly waist and watch as Dean made his way slowly across the beach. By the bonfire which seems to be ever burning, there was a large leg of what appeared to be venison that had been left out. Someone wanting to do a night roast? There was no else on the beach in that early morning except for some distant joggers jogging down the other side of the beach. The venison was rare but dressed and had been left on a spear of wood so that it wasn't touching the ground or anything. Still .. somewhat odd. But one's loss is another man's win.
seated by the manicured sands that are lapped endlessly by the water drifting languid and slow beneath the last dregs of the moon waning above the sky, Dean pokes a stick he has in his hand into the bonfire in front of him. The embers are stirred, swirled, prodded repeatedly while green eyes, dark, lost, stare into the faint, weak flames with an air of solemn silence. Whatever thoughts plague his mind, they fester here, the lunacy that bears too heavy, th metallic taste in his mouth. Who knows what he had done to earn that start, red mark climbing up the side of his face to marr his pale skin in crimson. What could've happened, that he now sits here in tattered clothes, dragging a distracted tongue over his upper canids stained with blood to lick it off.
Much to the chagrin of the men that laid their trap, he had arrived much earlier, sat down, and spent what may have easily been an hour watching the fire and the rising sun in equal measure and distraction. For whatever the reason may be, Dean stabs the stick in his hand into the burning charcoal, leaves it suspended -- then, from where he sits angles a kick at the whole thing. The bonfire jostles - the meat falls into the fire, and him - the wolf, their target, slowly turns his head to the noise, the smell of cigarettes, the sound of heartbeats. Green eyes pierce through the veil of their hidden crevasse immediately - as if no amount of darkness could obscure his eyes, but his expression, it remains calculative, modulated, eyes narrow, lips thin, straight line.
Dean seated by the manicured sands that are lapped endlessly by the water drifting languid and slow beneath the last dregs of the moon waning above the sky, Dean pokes a stick he has in his hand into the bonfire in front of him. The embers are stirred, swirled, prodded repeatedly while green eyes, dark, lost, stare into the faint, weak flames with an air of solemn silence. Whatever thoughts plague his mind, they fester here, the lunacy that bears too heavy, th metallic taste in his mouth. Who knows what he had done to earn that start, red mark climbing up the side of his face to marr his pale skin in crimson. What could've happened, that he now sits here in tattered clothes, dragging a distracted tongue over his upper canids stained with blood to lick it off.
Much to the chagrin of the men that laid their trap, he had arrived much earlier, sat down, and spent what may have easily been an hour watching the fire and the rising sun in equal measure and distraction. For whatever the reason may be, Dean stabs the stick in his hand into the burning charcoal, leaves it suspended -- then, from where he sits angles a kick at the whole thing. The bonfire jostles - the meat falls into the fire, and him - the wolf, their target, slowly turns his head to the noise, the smell of cigarettes, the sound of heartbeats. Green eyes pierce through the veil of their hidden crevasse immediately - as if no amount of darkness could obscure his eyes, but his expression, it remains calculative, modulated, eyes narrow, lips thin, straight line.
"Shit... How long as he been waiting there for?" The hunters mutter amongst themselves as the meat falls into the fire. "Did you doze off?" Ted was being accusatory of Ben who had supposed to be their lookout. "What? No I .... can't have been that long." Ben pulls his face back from the rifle and there's a imprint of a rifle scope around his eye. Maybe he had fallen asleep leaning against the rifle scope... The four hunters look at each other grimly and then Ben - being the one that had done this fucked up seems determined to correct it. He lifts the scope, sets it back against his eye where the imprint is pretty damn deep and sets his sights on Dean. "Fuck it. It's just one shot right. I don't think will kill him.. so." He stares really hard across the sand at the man next to the bonfire and his finger squeezes down on the trigger of the long ranged rifle that had a silence on it. The silver bullet races across the sand towards Dean.
Poor hunter, the only sight he would see through the scope of his rifle would be of Dean - staring into his gaze through it. Entirely, uncannily aware. Before the pull of the trigger, the green of his eyes flits towards the others waiting in the darkness - pass by each and every one of them -- and whene the bullet explodes.. Dean is gone. There is only a silver mist that wreaths where he was, exploding in a plume like a cloud borne out of moonlight, sparkling and agleam, slowly dissipating, and he's nowhere to be seen.
Actually, that's a lie. Dean is only unseen, to them. The tendrils of mist wisping and creeping had erupted forward through the sand, glimmering into the shrubbery and the darkness like a ray of light - and in that grim darkness, hidden in silence behind all of them just a few paces behind, is Dean - silent, still, glowing green eyes full of vehement fury and the only part of him visible in the shadows - if they were to turn around at all. He doesn't do anything yet, and in contemplation, vitriolic aggression, an inhumane curiosity heralded by a monstrosity so close to his skin at this time of the month, he watches them.
"What the!!" Ben lowers his rifle as he stares at where the man WAS. Emphasis on the word WAS. The man is no longer there anymore. All four hunters look at each other bewildered. Their leader, Vor raises his binoculars to his eyes and looks around the beach as if thinking that the man might've ducked behind the bonfire or something. "What the fuck???" He hisses as he sets his other hand on his hips. "Look for him! He has to be here somewhere! Wolves don't just... disappear." There is more swearing as the group fans out slightly, all their eyes still on that beach. None of them looking backwards behind them... thinking that they were safe this close to the town. Surely no monsters lurked... This close to town right?
At the very back, the 2nd hunter, blue eyed baby blonde James rubs the back of his neck as if he felt someone's gaze... Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder.
"What the!!" Ben lowers his rifle as he stares at where the man WAS. Emphasis on the word WAS. The man is no longer there anymore. All four hunters look at each other bewildered. Their leader, Vor raises his binoculars to his eyes and looks around the beach as if thinking that the man might've ducked behind the bonfire or something. "What the fuck???" He hisses as he sets his other hand on his hips. "Look for him! He has to be here somewhere! Wolves don't just... disappear." There is more swearing as the group fans out slightly, all their eyes still on that beach. None of them looking backwards behind them... thinking that they were safe this close to the town. Surely no monsters lurked... This close to town right?
At the very back, the 2nd hunter, blue eyed baby blonde James rubs the back of his neck as if he felt someone's gaze... Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder.
Baby blonde James might be the poster boy for the unluckiest man alive today. Dean, right there on the back of all of them, still watching in his looming position, tilts his head down and low at the bunch. He's still entirely human - or so it seems, even if only green orbs peer out at the group, visible in his dark enclosure beneath the edge of the beach where it bleeds into the woods. His jaw cracks, side to side - and behind them all, now that he's seen, a cruel growl starts to rise from his throat, snarl heavy, overbearing, oppressive -- whatever expression it spills from, unseen by all.
Juniper is just going for a walk down the sands of Sidney beach looking for a... friend that was supposed to be somewhere around here. Instead she's seeing a group of men unfamiliar to her. Armed and agitated.
"Shit shit!" As Juniper walks along the beach she can see movement in the trees infront of the beach where it reaches the forest. There were four people in camo gear, holding rifles and they seem to run out of the trees as if chased by -something. There is a ton of swearing as they turn back towards the forest and start shooting blindly into the trees. "Fuck that shit! Oh my god!" A blonde haired blue eyed man is the first to dash out of the trees, his camo pants holding a hint of a dark stain spreading across his groin. Was this his first hunt? Maybe. His rifle shoots into the trees until it clicks empty and then he starts to shakily reload it. "Hold!" Their leader, a dark haired dark eyed man - Vor yells out, all of them ignoring someone at their backs. "Surely whatever it is is dead?" He shoots another shot into the darkness to check.
"Shit shit!" As Juniper walks along the beach she can see movement in the trees infront of the beach where it reaches the forest. There were four people in camo gear, holding rifles and they seem to run out of the trees as if chased by -something. There is a ton of swearing as they turn back towards the forest and start shooting blindly into the trees. "Fuck that shit! Oh my god!" A blonde haired blue eyed man is the first to dash out of the trees, his camo pants holding a hint of a dark stain spreading across his groin. Was this his first hunt? Maybe. His rifle shoots into the trees until it clicks empty and then he starts to shakily reload it. "Hold!" Their leader, a dark haired dark eyed man - Vor yells out, all of them ignoring Juniper at their backs. "Surely whatever it is is dead?" He shoots another shot into the darkness to check.
Whatever that chased the group out, it is most definitely not dead under that disaster of a barrage. What follows, however, is a horrid sound. Bones cracking, skin tearing - it is inhuman, cruel, split with a snarl like a tiger escaped the zoo enclosure -- but there is no zoo in Haven. There are only monsters, and one of them, it is stirred in the dying embers of his lunacy. Those green eyes that previously beheld them when they were within reach, it disappears when they leave.
When they are within sight again, it is only because Dean(wolf) is striding forward. Bush, trunk, rock - all crushed under a massive paw while he takes one step after another -- easily, far too easily massive and large enough to devour half of a man in a single bite. Through bristling fur, a shaking of his head like a beast stunned in madness, he starts to snarl again. It is a lot deeper, guttural and vicious while withdrawn lips of a wolf bare savage, lethal and long fangs at the fleeing hunters in his unrushed, step-by-step chase.
Juniper narrows her eyes at the scene. Surely men out hunting in the woods isn't exactly entirely unexpected for the area. Something wild and scary being in those woods? Also not a suprise. But something just doesn't feel right to Juniper as she freezes - her eyes switching to the line where beach meets woods.
When Dean(wolf) emerges from the trees, it looks like he has the situation well in hand - but a growl forms in Juniper's throat as she realizes what and /who/ they had been hunting. With the power of some surprise on her side, she lets out a snarl as she lets the other side of her take over to join Dean(wolf) in his retribution.
The group was expecting a house sized wolf. The group was wanting a house sized wolf. Except when confronted with a house size wolf the group was.... Not ready. Ben runs screaming, dropping his rifle as he books it straight towards Juniper. "Oh my god OH MY GOD!!!" He wails as he runs, kindof in a duckish way really because his combat boots were stomping on the sand.
Behind him, Vor just rolls his eyes as he lifts his shotgun full of silver pellets and fires it in Dean(wolf)'s direction. "Die you fucker! We want your pelt!!" He yells as he pumps shot after shot into the forest, letting the other two cover him with their rifle fire as he reloads the pellets every second shot. Shell casings start to tumble to the ground as they try to get some of the silver material into Dean(wolf).
The pellets put an end to Dean(wolf)'s approach. He stops in his tracks, takes the brunt of a shot with his shoulder -- and reels. There is a sudden sway to him, then, a monstrous roar. His jaw just about splits - and it is nothing like a regular wolf that does it while fangs line up high to wolven cheekbones near his eyes. They not only got a house sized wolf, but a practical monster that now snarls, and through that viciously cruel maw, inky pools of lycanid venom spills over his fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is amiss in his sudden bloodlust, the rage that overtakes him entirely - and Dean(wolf) leaps, forward, ahead - in the span of a single breath upon the man that shot his shot, and only made some midnight beast more furious. His whole, massive body skids in the last stretch to near the ground, to approach the man, and jaws clamp around his body, squeeze tight, draw blood -- drain it straight down his throat while he lifts the man high to the air and growls in fury -- then starts to shake him like a toy- one chucked away, very, very away, straight into the sea without a care for whether he'd drown or die. Green eyes and a maw now stained in blood, dripping it just as he drip the venom, stare at the other two, now, as well as someone, who earns a growl of recognition, by simple scent if nothing else.
The pellets put an end to Dean(wolf)'s approach. He stops in his tracks, takes the brunt of a shot with his shoulder -- and reels. There is a sudden sway to him, then, a monstrous roar. His jaw just about splits - and it is nothing like a regular wolf that does it while fangs line up high to wolven cheekbones near his eyes. They not only got a house sized wolf, but a practical monster that now snarls, and through that viciously cruel maw, inky pools of lycanid venom spills over his fangs.
Juniper(wolf) is amiss in his sudden bloodlust, the rage that overtakes him entirely - and Dean(wolf) leaps, forward, ahead - in the span of a single breath upon the man that shot his shot, and only made some midnight beast more furious. His whole, massive body skids in the last stretch to near the ground, to approach the man, and jaws clamp around his body, squeeze tight, draw blood -- drain it straight down his throat while he lifts the man high to the air and growls in fury -- then starts to shake him like a toy- one chucked away, very, very away, straight into the sea without a care for whether he'd drown or die. Green eyes and a maw now stained in blood, dripping it just as he drip the venom, stare at the other two, now, as well as Juniper(wolf), who earns a growl of recognition, by simple scent if nothing else.
There is only screams of fear as Dean(wolf) comes out the forest despite taking those shots. Vor is one of those guys that shouts at the top of his voice as he pumps more pellets into his shotgun - trying to get that one last shot into the face of Dean(wolf), determined that he wouldn't run away from the beast. Still, Dean(wolf)'s fur is thick and the man's consistancy is smokey at best and the shot grazes his fur, maybe a pelette or two of the silver gets lodged before the man disappears into the man's mouth. The other - screams as he's chucked into the ocean, landing with a splash and a loud thud but he's on his feet before too long, scrambling to run away further along the beach. The remaining one - Ted flees along with Ben who had had a great head start and was running and running... until he runs into Juniper(wolf). "Another wolf!!!" He screams, terrified. "How many fucking wolves are there in this town?" Ben clearly did not get the memo or listen to all the wolves howling all through the night.
As a wolf, Juniper(wolf) lets out a loud snarl followed by a vibrating growl to meet the men running down the beach with a menacing presence. Surprise backup for Dean(wolf) though certainly considerably less nightmarish. Her own giant fangs are brandished with dripping saliva, putting on her best feral display while the hackles on her back raise up, creating the illusion of even more wolf to contend with.
And then she launches towards this 'Ben' who screams, aiming straight for his gun arm's shoulder to take him down with a giant wolf maw and the weight of her charge.
Ben falls with a scream as Juniper(wolf) tackles him onto the ground - he is just a human after all. One that threw aside his rifle because he wasn't able to reload it. He holds his arms up to try and push Juniper(wolf) off him as he screams non stop.
Agitated sounds plague Dean(wolf)'s snarls after he's done with one, and has turned on the next. With the rest fleeing towards Juniper(wolf), Dean(wolf) starts to shamble forward once more- even if they've gained quite the distance. Pain accompanies each motion with the silver pellets embedded into his fur, onto his skin - they've failed to pierce him fully, but there is no doubt a rash growing there already. As the other wolf catches one, he shows he's no slouch. On the contrary, Dean(wolf) begins to increase his pace. Earth-shaking steps quake he ground, and he leaps -- just to disappear in a silver mist like he never was.
When he appears again, the ray of light that had carried him, the mist he rode on, it leaves him erupting out of nothing and straight into view from above, like an arctic fox diving for mice under snow -- except a lot, a lot more massive, and cruel in intent when he crashes on the other one that Juniper(wolf) hadn't gone after, step down on him, and let his massive maw close in on their whole torso to bite them into the ground savagely.
If it wasn't obvious, immediately, there is a wicked restriction to Dean(wolf)'s actions. He's not giving debilitating, life-threatening injuries. Only severe ones where he chews on any he's caught, perhaps with the intention to let them have a piece of the moonlight. Whether the lycantrophy takes or not, the hunters would be left to their own fate.
Ted had been running... Running for his life, fleeing from the wolf behind him and the wolf next to him that was taking down Ben and not himself and then...... A giant shadow had appeared over his head. Next thing he knows is that the giant shadow had fallen onto him and the man tumbles down onto the ground in a daze underneath Dean(wolf) before he gets practically mauled by Dean(wolf)'s teeth. Blood pools underneath him, flows everywhere and maybe it would be better for him to be dead.. But his body does go limp. Far on the other side of the beach, the one member on his feet limping away keeps trying to make his way further north - away from the action. And someone. Poor someone was not having a good time at all with Juniper(wolf).
Ted had been running... Running for his life, fleeing from the wolf behind him and the wolf next to him that was taking down Ben and not himself and then...... A giant shadow had appeared over his head. Next thing he knows is that the giant shadow had fallen onto him and the man tumbles down onto the ground in a daze underneath Dean(wolf) before he gets practically mauled by Dean(wolf)'s teeth. Blood pools underneath him, flows everywhere and maybe it would be better for him to be dead.. But his body does go limp. Far on the other side of the beach, the one member on his feet limping away keeps trying to make his way further north - away from the action. And Ben... Poor Ben was not having a good time at all with Juniper(wolf).
Juniper(wolf) crunches through muscle and collar bone as she closes her jaw around the man's shoulder area. She too is not going for the kill but she's certainly not letting this one off easy. A large paw on his chest holds him down while she pierces through and then lets go to shake him with a throaty snarl. His arm could very likely come close to detached at this rate, the way she severs and applies the action.
The man underneath Juniper(wolf) faints from the pain as bone of his shoulder and rib cage is shown glistening ot the light. The beach is suddenly very very quiet. Everyone else having heard all the howling through the last two nights... and especially at the reappearance of the house sized wolf... Disappearing VERY quickly from view.
The last of the group, Dean(wolf) doesn't give chase - he simply shoves away the half-corpse of a man under his paw away, turns around to start stalking away back towards the tree-line, where he, presumably, left his clothes. Muscles convulse and shrink, the once-powerful limbs losing their supernatural strength. The thick, coarse fur retracts into the skin, leaving patches of raw, pink flesh exposed. Bones snap and grind, realigning into a more familiar, human structure. The once-lethal claws splinter and retract, leaving behind bloodied, human fingers. The wolf's snout shortens with a grotesque crunch, fangs dissolving into more manageable human teeth. The glowing green eyes dim, shifting to a more familiar human hue. His spine contorts painfully, vertebrae cracking and shifting back into place as he transitions from four legs to two. The agony of the transformation is evident in his guttural groans and gasps. His body, now mostly human, shudders violently as the last vestiges of the beast are stripped away. Muscles soften, skin smooths over, and the dark fur is entirely gone, replaced by bare, vulnerable human flesh.
The sun slowly rises up from the horizon on the two left remaining on the beach. Three bodies lie around and one can only hope someone had called the HSD or the ambulence. Or maybe they were better off left bleeding to death. The one Dean had bitten through the stomach was certainly going to have to deal with a long battle with sepsis given the amount of bowel that was perforated. It stinks up the air encouraging the wolves to leave.
The sun slowly rises up from the horizon on the two left remaining on the beach. Three bodies lie around and one can only hope someone had called the HSD or the ambulence. Or maybe they were better off left bleeding to death. The one Dean had bitten through the stomach was certainly going to have to deal with a long battle with sepsis given the amount of bowel that was perforated. It stinks up the air encouraging the wolves to leave. (repost)
Juniper(wolf) lets go of the unconscious man but stands over his body in a dominant manner with another loud growl as if to dare any of them to get back up again. With the way Dean laid waste though, it isn't likely. She huffs once, twice and licks at her teeth before she steps away and plods back to her things like Dean had done. As if it were simply another day, she shifts back and gets dressed.