Encounterlogs
Iakress Odd Encounter Sr Zoe 240611
In an early morning filled with frustration and transformation, Iakres finds himself dealing with the consequences of a magic coin turning him into an owl. Within the confines of his trailer, he struggles to adapt to his new avian body, clumsily learning how to coordinate its unfamiliar limbs. He is alone, undisturbed by the outside world as he screeches in protest and determination. The discovery of the coin's imagery — a forest and a small shrine — sparks a sense of purpose in him. Guided by instinct and fragmented human logic, Iakres makes the crucial decision to embark on a journey, driven by the coin's hint and a growing, unsettling craving for rodent prey.
Maneuvering through his temporary physical limitations, Iakres eventually learns how to fly, albeit messily, and sets off towards the Westhaven management facility, seeking assistance. There, he meets a young receptionist, unfazed by his unusual appearance, who quickly deciphers his situation. She directs him towards the shrine's location with nonchalant advice and a veiled warning about eagles. With newfound clarity and a destination in mind, Iakres takes to the skies, navigating with ease past familiar landmarks. The story, rich with comical mishaps and silent determination, ends with Iakres on a hopeful note, adapting to his situation and advancing towards solving the mystery of the magic coin.
(Iakres's odd encounter(SRZoe):SRZoe)
[Mon Jun 10 2024]
In a comfortable bedroom within a trailer
Dark wood flooring that is scratched and dulled from age, creaks and moans sometimes beneath one's feet. The walls are painted a soft and muted artic blue with bright white wood trimming along the floor and ceiling. However, the fresh coat of paint doesn't hide the fact the the walls themselves are thin, and the western window needs replacement. The sliding glass door leading into a small, private yard sticks when trying to get it open, and it only appears to lock via a metal bar.
It is dawn, about 74F(23C) degrees,
'Goddamn fucking magic coins,' might have been the intent behind Iakres's raucous screech. Alas; he didn't have the muscle memory to mimic a human's voice with an animal's vocal chords. Surely he could do it - but he'd have to figure it out. It's not the very first time he'd been turned into an animal, but nor was it something he was familiar with, and he'd certainly never been a /bird/ before. He spends a few minutes on the floor there, trying to figure out how to move his new body. He definitely didn't feel ready to use his wings for anything more than balance, yet, and so it is without a great deal of dignity nor poise that the owl eventually stomps over to the fallen coin and tries to coordinate his toes into some form of grasping functionality. His beak would probably work fine, but if he lost his balance, he'd have a hell of a time getting back up. Eventually he gives up on total coordination - he just uses a single talon to try and wiggle it under the flat disc of the coin and flip it over.
Iakres's screech echoes around the trailer and finds nothing responding to it. He's all alone, and the noise and light hasn't attracted anyone or anything over to figure out what's going on in that one trailer the old people just moved into, perhaps owing to it being the early hours of the morning and the wolves just having gone to sleep recently after all their howling throughout the night.
It requires a bit of screeching of his nails across the wooden floor, and there's definitely a long scratch that wasn't there before when Iakres finally sees a bit of success. Thankfully, the coin is light enough that it doesn't take a lot apart from some mediocre attempts at coordination to flip it over onto the tails side, and it's small and light enough it could probably be clutched within a talon, even if carrying it around for a long period of time may prove to be a bit of a challenge for Iakres's newly-avian muscles and hollow bones. Still, his owlish vision provides him with a clear image of what's depicted upon the other face of the coin: it's a forest in the background - the Moore woods, perhaps, if he's walked in there often enough to recognize them? - and what appears to be a small shrine made of little more than a pile of wood arranged in a particular fashion, contained in a clearing within those woods. It may be hard to find if a human were to wander around, but perhaps not so if it's a bird scouting from above. That is, assuming he takes the hint and goes out with the coin to find it at all.
It's up to him, but something at the back of Iakres's mind tells him to find a little rodent to sink his beak into for breakfast. Perhaps staying as an owl for too long may not be the best for his mental state...
Recognising hints is what Iakres's all about. That doesn't mean he knows what the hell he's looking at, but it would be easy to connect the woods outside to the woods on the coin - the shrine's a little harder. Still, there are Moores about, and they probably know their land as well as anyone could hope for. So he waddles over and picks the coin up with his beak, but now he's stuck with a different dilemma - the house is shut up nice and neat. He waddles from the bedroom to the living room, looking to see if one of the recently replaced windows might have been less perfectly installed. Ugh. He'd have to figure out how to break one and pay for yet another damn window.
There /are/ indeed Moores around, if he can catch one of them, though how likely they are to listen to a bird with a coin is up for deliberation. First step for now, however, is to make his way out of the trailer. His wife /had/ left a window in the kitchen open, but Iakres can't be blamed for missing it with how small he is as an owl - a smaller breed, perhaps verging on the side of medium, certainly. Whether that's a good thing or not is yet to be seen.
The first step towards breaking a window open would be to learn how to use his wings to reach the window at all. The coin, once it's in his beak, seems to slow down the encroaching instinctual drive at the back of his mind - he's got /some/ time to figure out how his new body works, time enough to flap his wings and figure out things like air dynamics and whatever else is necessary for this quest of his.
His now-sharp eyes can make out the way the window in the living room is slid open /just/ the tiniest bit. It wouldn't be that hard to slide it open all the way, or to squeeze himself through that gap, perhaps, if he can figure out his wings enough to reach it. Or he can attempt to open the latch upon the backyard door in the bedroom, though it'll be hard to close it once it's opened. The options are aplenty.
Oh, the window in the kitchen /was/ open. Iakres clearly needed to re-learn how to actually use his eyes, apparently, now that they worked again. Learning to use his wings proves even harder, even if his strigine form was endowed with the fitness for it. He at least knew the basics of what he was doing. He had to flap his wings and catch enough resistance with his feathers to achieve meaningful lateral movement without dropping too fast. Easy as pie.
Thirty minutes later, and with a much messier living room which had since borne witness to the lesson of how little Iakres could control his birdy bowel movements, he manages to achieve liftoff. His wife probably didn't see any urgency in picking up the pace. Or she just hadn't checked the phone yet. Fair enough. He could fly now. God, he really wanted to eat a damned mouse or something... And the rising sun seemed a good sign to stay home and rest... But Mister Androulakis was no slave to his own instincts, and so he shoots off into the air, through the window, and towards the Westhaven management facility. He'd heard the Moores were a wolf family. Hopefully they could smell the old man on him.
It's almost seven on a Monday morning which means, thankfully, there's at least schoolchildren and their parents awake already in preparation to start the day. The air is blessedly cool where Iakres drifts along, a blessed draft allowing him to fly without much flapping required. The coin in his beak isn't too heavy, though it glints in the early morning sunshine enough to catch attention.
Iakres makes it to the management facility somewhat unscathed, though there's not a lot of activity going on currently. That may be for the best, so he can swoop his way down and through the open doors to land right on the reception desk, though his landing may or may not require some practice. That landing also happens to be right in front of a girl looking barely out of high school, seeming like she'd rather be anywhere but here, even when she's greeted with an owl smashing into her workspace.
"Hey. Looks like ol' Moony's coin got someone again, huh." Is she talking to - and about - Iakres She must be. She's definitely looking at him with those bored eyes, though half her attention is on her phone where she's been playing some game, the occasional bubbly sounds coming from it. She doesn't seem surprised at all with his appearance. "Happens every couple months, grandma hasn't figured out how to make it stop showing up yet. You're looking to go northwest, right past the tallest oak, easy to pick out. Don't get eaten by an eagle like cousin Matilda did. Good luck."
... well. That seems to be her contribution. She's gone back to playing her game. Surely that last part was just a joke, right? How many eagles are around here, anyway?
Well, Iakres would have to come by later and thank the desk girl properly, once he could speak and slide her a crisp $20 note - the perfect gift from 20 years ago. He bobs his head and lets out a squawk, and then he's off, keeping low to keep just above the treeline. All the better to minimise his silhouette from prying eagles' eyes. He'd done enough helicopter-borne missions to recognise the usefulness of that. Thank god for details like 'tallest oak' - it really was easy to pick out.
Maneuvering through his temporary physical limitations, Iakres eventually learns how to fly, albeit messily, and sets off towards the Westhaven management facility, seeking assistance. There, he meets a young receptionist, unfazed by his unusual appearance, who quickly deciphers his situation. She directs him towards the shrine's location with nonchalant advice and a veiled warning about eagles. With newfound clarity and a destination in mind, Iakres takes to the skies, navigating with ease past familiar landmarks. The story, rich with comical mishaps and silent determination, ends with Iakres on a hopeful note, adapting to his situation and advancing towards solving the mystery of the magic coin.
(Iakres's odd encounter(SRZoe):SRZoe)
[Mon Jun 10 2024]
In a comfortable bedroom within a trailer
Dark wood flooring that is scratched and dulled from age, creaks and moans sometimes beneath one's feet. The walls are painted a soft and muted artic blue with bright white wood trimming along the floor and ceiling. However, the fresh coat of paint doesn't hide the fact the the walls themselves are thin, and the western window needs replacement. The sliding glass door leading into a small, private yard sticks when trying to get it open, and it only appears to lock via a metal bar.
It is dawn, about 74F(23C) degrees,
'Goddamn fucking magic coins,' might have been the intent behind Iakres's raucous screech. Alas; he didn't have the muscle memory to mimic a human's voice with an animal's vocal chords. Surely he could do it - but he'd have to figure it out. It's not the very first time he'd been turned into an animal, but nor was it something he was familiar with, and he'd certainly never been a /bird/ before. He spends a few minutes on the floor there, trying to figure out how to move his new body. He definitely didn't feel ready to use his wings for anything more than balance, yet, and so it is without a great deal of dignity nor poise that the owl eventually stomps over to the fallen coin and tries to coordinate his toes into some form of grasping functionality. His beak would probably work fine, but if he lost his balance, he'd have a hell of a time getting back up. Eventually he gives up on total coordination - he just uses a single talon to try and wiggle it under the flat disc of the coin and flip it over.
Iakres's screech echoes around the trailer and finds nothing responding to it. He's all alone, and the noise and light hasn't attracted anyone or anything over to figure out what's going on in that one trailer the old people just moved into, perhaps owing to it being the early hours of the morning and the wolves just having gone to sleep recently after all their howling throughout the night.
It requires a bit of screeching of his nails across the wooden floor, and there's definitely a long scratch that wasn't there before when Iakres finally sees a bit of success. Thankfully, the coin is light enough that it doesn't take a lot apart from some mediocre attempts at coordination to flip it over onto the tails side, and it's small and light enough it could probably be clutched within a talon, even if carrying it around for a long period of time may prove to be a bit of a challenge for Iakres's newly-avian muscles and hollow bones. Still, his owlish vision provides him with a clear image of what's depicted upon the other face of the coin: it's a forest in the background - the Moore woods, perhaps, if he's walked in there often enough to recognize them? - and what appears to be a small shrine made of little more than a pile of wood arranged in a particular fashion, contained in a clearing within those woods. It may be hard to find if a human were to wander around, but perhaps not so if it's a bird scouting from above. That is, assuming he takes the hint and goes out with the coin to find it at all.
It's up to him, but something at the back of Iakres's mind tells him to find a little rodent to sink his beak into for breakfast. Perhaps staying as an owl for too long may not be the best for his mental state...
Recognising hints is what Iakres's all about. That doesn't mean he knows what the hell he's looking at, but it would be easy to connect the woods outside to the woods on the coin - the shrine's a little harder. Still, there are Moores about, and they probably know their land as well as anyone could hope for. So he waddles over and picks the coin up with his beak, but now he's stuck with a different dilemma - the house is shut up nice and neat. He waddles from the bedroom to the living room, looking to see if one of the recently replaced windows might have been less perfectly installed. Ugh. He'd have to figure out how to break one and pay for yet another damn window.
There /are/ indeed Moores around, if he can catch one of them, though how likely they are to listen to a bird with a coin is up for deliberation. First step for now, however, is to make his way out of the trailer. His wife /had/ left a window in the kitchen open, but Iakres can't be blamed for missing it with how small he is as an owl - a smaller breed, perhaps verging on the side of medium, certainly. Whether that's a good thing or not is yet to be seen.
The first step towards breaking a window open would be to learn how to use his wings to reach the window at all. The coin, once it's in his beak, seems to slow down the encroaching instinctual drive at the back of his mind - he's got /some/ time to figure out how his new body works, time enough to flap his wings and figure out things like air dynamics and whatever else is necessary for this quest of his.
His now-sharp eyes can make out the way the window in the living room is slid open /just/ the tiniest bit. It wouldn't be that hard to slide it open all the way, or to squeeze himself through that gap, perhaps, if he can figure out his wings enough to reach it. Or he can attempt to open the latch upon the backyard door in the bedroom, though it'll be hard to close it once it's opened. The options are aplenty.
Oh, the window in the kitchen /was/ open. Iakres clearly needed to re-learn how to actually use his eyes, apparently, now that they worked again. Learning to use his wings proves even harder, even if his strigine form was endowed with the fitness for it. He at least knew the basics of what he was doing. He had to flap his wings and catch enough resistance with his feathers to achieve meaningful lateral movement without dropping too fast. Easy as pie.
Thirty minutes later, and with a much messier living room which had since borne witness to the lesson of how little Iakres could control his birdy bowel movements, he manages to achieve liftoff. His wife probably didn't see any urgency in picking up the pace. Or she just hadn't checked the phone yet. Fair enough. He could fly now. God, he really wanted to eat a damned mouse or something... And the rising sun seemed a good sign to stay home and rest... But Mister Androulakis was no slave to his own instincts, and so he shoots off into the air, through the window, and towards the Westhaven management facility. He'd heard the Moores were a wolf family. Hopefully they could smell the old man on him.
It's almost seven on a Monday morning which means, thankfully, there's at least schoolchildren and their parents awake already in preparation to start the day. The air is blessedly cool where Iakres drifts along, a blessed draft allowing him to fly without much flapping required. The coin in his beak isn't too heavy, though it glints in the early morning sunshine enough to catch attention.
Iakres makes it to the management facility somewhat unscathed, though there's not a lot of activity going on currently. That may be for the best, so he can swoop his way down and through the open doors to land right on the reception desk, though his landing may or may not require some practice. That landing also happens to be right in front of a girl looking barely out of high school, seeming like she'd rather be anywhere but here, even when she's greeted with an owl smashing into her workspace.
"Hey. Looks like ol' Moony's coin got someone again, huh." Is she talking to - and about - Iakres She must be. She's definitely looking at him with those bored eyes, though half her attention is on her phone where she's been playing some game, the occasional bubbly sounds coming from it. She doesn't seem surprised at all with his appearance. "Happens every couple months, grandma hasn't figured out how to make it stop showing up yet. You're looking to go northwest, right past the tallest oak, easy to pick out. Don't get eaten by an eagle like cousin Matilda did. Good luck."
... well. That seems to be her contribution. She's gone back to playing her game. Surely that last part was just a joke, right? How many eagles are around here, anyway?
Well, Iakres would have to come by later and thank the desk girl properly, once he could speak and slide her a crisp $20 note - the perfect gift from 20 years ago. He bobs his head and lets out a squawk, and then he's off, keeping low to keep just above the treeline. All the better to minimise his silhouette from prying eagles' eyes. He'd done enough helicopter-borne missions to recognise the usefulness of that. Thank god for details like 'tallest oak' - it really was easy to pick out.