Encounterlogs
Lydias Odd Encounter Sr Tabitha 240308
In the story, Lydia, a new resident of an apartment in Haven, experiences an eerie occurrence alongside Sofia, a neighbor who had offered to help Lydia move in. During their interaction, a chilling and unexplained draft sweeps through the apartment, followed by the inexplicable slamming of Lydia’s front door, sparking tension and fear. As the two acquaint themselves, they encounter Father Jack Francis, a passing clergyman, who senses something amiss and decides to investigate. Unbeknownst to Lydia, who is momentarily occupied, Sofia and Father Jack discover a malevolent spirit manifesting within the apartment, marked by an unsettling presence and a ghostly voice claiming ownership of Lydia's new home.
As the situation escalates, Father Jack, equipped with his faith and experience in the supernatural, alongside a terrified yet courageous Sofia, confronts the entity. The spirit, visibly tormented and holding onto a spectral gun, signifies a tragic and violent past. Through a spiritual battle invoking prayers and the power of faith, Jack and Sofia manage to compel the spirit towards redemption and peace, causing it to relinquish its claim over the apartment and dissolve into the ether. The resolution leaves Sofia and Father Jack in a moment of solemn reflection, bound by the profound experience they shared. They resolve to keep the incident confidential until they can further comprehend the implications of their encounter.
(Lydia's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Thu Mar 7 2024]
In the Comfortable Living Room of Apartment 101
This is a comfortably furnished bedroom, with shiny wooden floors and cream-colored walls. Various seats dot the space, including a large couch in front of the TV. The walls are decorated with framed drawings, mostly black and white sketches of the woods around Haven. There are shelves with books and a few potted plants. One corner is taken up with a small kitchenette, complete with a small fridge and a stainless steel counter.
It is morning, about 21F(-6C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Lydia has recently moved in to her new apartment. There are still boxes lying around, but right now she is just relaxing on her couch, smiling and pleased whenever she glances around the new surroundings.
Sofia looks around, nodding at the rather gothic looking pale woman.
Ah. New to you homes are always something to be proud of. The purchase of the place. The making it your own. Lydia may not even consider who owned the home before, or how many people owned it before. For the moment, there is just peace and happiness as she sits on her couch in her living room, the sounds of people milling about in daily life, like Sofia, heard outside in the apartment complex hallway. Perhaps she's a new neighbor?
Sofia happened to be nearby, and rather helpfully offered to move some things for the pale woman.
Lydia sighs in pleasure as she finally sets down the last box she still had to move in. She looks up and smiles at Sofia, nodding at her gratefully "Thanks. Completely forgot those were getting delivered today. Name's Lydia."
Sofia grunts and sets down the last box. She nods happily. "Mine's Sofia." she says.
The hallway has a chilly breeze, as it often does when people do not close the doors between breezeways in Elm Street Apartments. One might even hear the wind howl through the hallway if one were to listen close enough. As Sofia and Lydia make their acquaintance, the wind causes Lydia's front door to slam shut. Or at least ... it is more soothing to assume that it is just the wind, right?
Sofia jumps and looks at the door, and then around for an open window or some such. She chuckles nervously to Lydia.
Lydia is definitely more dressed for clubbing than moving stuff, but she does not seem to particularly mind. She jumps a little at the sound as well, muttering "God I hate this weather..."
Yes, it is clearly the weather at play. There is no reason for Sofia or Lydia to be concerned. Not here, not now, and certainly not in Haven...
There is a draft in the apartment. Lydia would feel the cold, now, where she may not have in her happiness and feelings of accomplishment in the purchase of the place. It travels along both her and Sofia's spine.
Sofia shiver. "Bit drafty, maybe." she says, leaning against a wall, content to persue a bit of smalltalk.
Lydia says "//God, I'm sorry, but I'm finding myself in a completely braindead space -_- I'm not sure I can really do a scene like this right now. Sorry, should have really realized that before..."
From somewhere, radio static can be heard, like someone trying to find a good station on an antique stereo. It sounds like it may be coming from Lydia's bedroom. But surely, it is a neighbor. The walls are thin in the apartment complex afterall. Probably for the need of the construction workers to build quick. One has to often accept that when they live in an apartment that they share the space with everyone around them.
Jack must have been in the hallway of the apartment complex when the door to Apartment 101 suddenly slammed shut. Fortuitous? Possibly. Though the owner has gone back to doing chores while Sofia makes the small talk with her about the place being drafty, Jack may sense that there is something more at play than simply the doors on either side of the apartment breezeway being open and causing the wind to howl and the door to shut. Though, it is not out of the realm of possibilities.
Stepping inside, Jack pauses. There is a tilt of his head. "Is everything all right?" he asks, scanning the room with low curiosity. As he does, he fingers the crucifix around his neck, muttering a low prayer. "I am Father Jack Francis," he introduces himself.
Sofia inclines her head to the priest. "Oh. Hello. What brings you here. Father Jack." she says, respectfully. "I think it's just drafty in here...but your concern...I might just be paranoid." she says, trailing off, shaking her head.
"A sense of something wrong," Jack tells Sofia. He smiles at her, but it is clear there is some worry in his eyes. "What is your name?"
It takes Jack a good amount of force to open up the door. Something has made it stick, and there is even some resistance to his pushing, like something is trying to force it closed again. However, it does give, eventually, for Jack to poke his head in, where he finds Sofia, who was just being a good samaritan. And now look?
Re: It takes Jack a good amount of force to open up the door. Something has made it stick, and there is even some resistance to his pushing, like something is trying to force it closed again. However, it does give, eventually, for Jack to poke his head in, where he finds Sofia, who was just being a good samaritan. And now look?
And now look, indeed. Something crawls down the back of Jack's neck as he talks to Sofia.
The static from the radio is still echoing from what appears to be the bedroom. Some neighbor perhaps getting ready for their day? Something about it, though, as Jack would know, feels -off-.
Sofia looks faintly, distantly purturbed, not by the Father, but by something else. "Oh, I am Sofia, new in town. Planning to attend the institute, was just helping Lydia move in...then the door slammed."
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Sofia," Jack tells her. "I am vicar at the Institute -- we should talk. For now, though?" he says. "Just stay behind me, a little." There's a step towards the bedroom. "This town is full of unease," he explains to Sofia as he approaches the bedroom door. Now the crucifix is out; it dangles from a cord with a variety of other charms, and Jack works his fingers through them, chanting an idle low protective spell in doggrel Latin.
The door to the bedroom suddenly flies open. With a force that it hits the wall and bounces off it. It does not, fortunately for the person who lives there, leave a dent in the thin wall, stopped by the rubber doorstop before it has the chance. With the static, though Sofia may not recognize it, Jack would see a figure waver in and out, etched and scratched like the static that it draws energy from.
Sofia looks like she has some kind of idea of what this could mean. Something vague. And she obeys.
"Bullets will not help us here," Jack tells Sofia. "Do you have faith?" he asks the stocky woman. "If you do, call on it." This was not a journey where he planned some exorcism -- he has a bible on him, to be sure. That's a book. He may have a bell. He is short a candle. There's a glance around the room. "Grab that candle there," he asks Sofia, indicating some Bath & Body Works scented candle on the table. "Do you have a lighter?" he asks. "Can you light it?"
Revolvers won't help much, as Sofia admits. This will take more than a bullet. Though it may have been a bullet that did whatever it is in.
Sofia stride over and grabs up the scented candle. Then looks around wildly for a lighter.
Sofia snap her fingers, and walks over, and lights the candle on the stove, covering the flame and resuming her place not-quite cowering behind the grizzled priest.
There is a flicker of the apparition once more, becoming solid, for a moment. Something that even Sofia would be able to see, having made themselves visible in the time that it rushes from the bedroom toward the woman, arms extended with hands ready to wrap around the woman's throat. However, before it makes contact, it disappears, and leaves with a bone chilling rush of air that both she and Jack are able to feel.
There is a whisper in that frigid air that lingers in the heads of Jack and Sofia, "This is my house!"
Sofia presses herself to the priest in fear, still holding the candle, thankfully. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" She says, loudly!
Cancer kills, you know -- Jack gave up smoking some time ago. "Light it!" he urges Sofia. His pocket Bible is produced as Sofia gets the candle lit. "Here," he urges to her, flipping through the Bible as he hands her a small brass bell. "Ring the bell. Walk shoulder and shoulder with me towards the spirit," he says. "The bell should be in your left hand, the candle in your right." He begins to read: "...Calling the Twelve to him, he began to send them out two by two and gave them authority of unpure spirits." A glance at the stocky woman. "Today we are the two, Sofia."
He raises his voice: "Spirit, in the name of the Lord we abjure thee. Thou art lost -- this is not your house. This woman, who is a child of God, is not yours. This place is not yours. You must be gone, in the name of God!"
Sofia square her shoulders, and puts things as he requested, bell in left, candle in right. She rings the bell, the sound steeling her resolve as she strides with the Father in lockstep.
The spirit, vengeful, spiteful. Unaware? It reappears. It tries to affect the good book in Jack's hand. First it starts with the pages aflutter, then her hands are on it, seeking to pull it. But there is little effect. "It is mine. You are trespassing!" Unaware that she is the trespasser in a home that, by the look and style of her clothing, hasn't been hers in quite a while.
Sofia stands firm with Father Jack. Her eyes wide with fear and curiosity at the apparition.
It is good that this is Haven and not Amityville, no? But all the same, the request is the same to Sofia and Jack "Get Out."
"Tresspass not in this place," Jack declaims to the spirit. Sidelong at Sofia. "Ring the bell as if you life depends on it, Miss Sofia," he tells her. Perhaps it does. "Trespass not in this place, for it is sanctified against sin!" If it is Lydia's apartment, it may be the exact opposite -- but perhaps she's just moved in. "Begone this place. Go to the desert, where spirits dwell!"
Sofia rings the bell like a Salvation army santa before closing time!
The spirit falters. Its forehead caked with blood, and the back of its head shattered, brain matter clear as day through skull fractures. "I am not dead!" She clearly is. The apparition becomes solid again for Sofia to bear witness to her tragedy, unknown whether it is self-inflicted or she was murdered. The blood oozes from the wound, particles of bone and brain splashing to the floor.
Sofia gasp loudly, her hand working on auto-pilot, clanging that little brass bell, turning pale as a sheet.
"You are dead," Jack tells the spirit, his words working in rhythm with Sofia's clanging of the bell. "Eternal rest grant unto thee, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon thee." His prayer is in time with the bell. "May thy soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." He raises the book. "Go," he commands the spirit. "Go, and rest in peace."
Sofia steady the rhythm of the bell to something more steady, for the benefit of the father. Under her breath, she whispers the Lords prayer, for good measure.
When Jack confirms that the entity is in fact dead, the being looks from him to Sofia and then down to a hand which now holds onto a ghostly-image of a gun. The barrel looks like it may be hot, or was, when it had originally been shot. Smoke, like the mists that surround Haven, drifts lazily from it. It was not in her hand before. There comes a sudden look of recognition, and sadness. In a ghost's eyes? Perhaps that was always there. The ghost-gun is dropped, and disappers before it hits the ground. There are no words from it, as the entrance and exit wounds begin to stitch and weave back together. Its form begins to glow, becoming overbearing to look at. And then, just as fast as it came, it is gone. And the room is left in darkness, or at least temporary darkness as the two spirit banishers are left to adjust to the normalcy.
"Amen," Jack tells Sofia as the spirit fades. He turns to look at her, and then there's a low pause. "Speak nothing of what you saw here," he tells her. "Not until we can talk about what happened."
Sofia does not move her gaze from where the spirit was. "Is it gone?" She asks the father.
As the situation escalates, Father Jack, equipped with his faith and experience in the supernatural, alongside a terrified yet courageous Sofia, confronts the entity. The spirit, visibly tormented and holding onto a spectral gun, signifies a tragic and violent past. Through a spiritual battle invoking prayers and the power of faith, Jack and Sofia manage to compel the spirit towards redemption and peace, causing it to relinquish its claim over the apartment and dissolve into the ether. The resolution leaves Sofia and Father Jack in a moment of solemn reflection, bound by the profound experience they shared. They resolve to keep the incident confidential until they can further comprehend the implications of their encounter.
(Lydia's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Thu Mar 7 2024]
In the Comfortable Living Room of Apartment 101
This is a comfortably furnished bedroom, with shiny wooden floors and cream-colored walls. Various seats dot the space, including a large couch in front of the TV. The walls are decorated with framed drawings, mostly black and white sketches of the woods around Haven. There are shelves with books and a few potted plants. One corner is taken up with a small kitchenette, complete with a small fridge and a stainless steel counter.
It is morning, about 21F(-6C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Lydia has recently moved in to her new apartment. There are still boxes lying around, but right now she is just relaxing on her couch, smiling and pleased whenever she glances around the new surroundings.
Sofia looks around, nodding at the rather gothic looking pale woman.
Ah. New to you homes are always something to be proud of. The purchase of the place. The making it your own. Lydia may not even consider who owned the home before, or how many people owned it before. For the moment, there is just peace and happiness as she sits on her couch in her living room, the sounds of people milling about in daily life, like Sofia, heard outside in the apartment complex hallway. Perhaps she's a new neighbor?
Sofia happened to be nearby, and rather helpfully offered to move some things for the pale woman.
Lydia sighs in pleasure as she finally sets down the last box she still had to move in. She looks up and smiles at Sofia, nodding at her gratefully "Thanks. Completely forgot those were getting delivered today. Name's Lydia."
Sofia grunts and sets down the last box. She nods happily. "Mine's Sofia." she says.
The hallway has a chilly breeze, as it often does when people do not close the doors between breezeways in Elm Street Apartments. One might even hear the wind howl through the hallway if one were to listen close enough. As Sofia and Lydia make their acquaintance, the wind causes Lydia's front door to slam shut. Or at least ... it is more soothing to assume that it is just the wind, right?
Sofia jumps and looks at the door, and then around for an open window or some such. She chuckles nervously to Lydia.
Lydia is definitely more dressed for clubbing than moving stuff, but she does not seem to particularly mind. She jumps a little at the sound as well, muttering "God I hate this weather..."
Yes, it is clearly the weather at play. There is no reason for Sofia or Lydia to be concerned. Not here, not now, and certainly not in Haven...
There is a draft in the apartment. Lydia would feel the cold, now, where she may not have in her happiness and feelings of accomplishment in the purchase of the place. It travels along both her and Sofia's spine.
Sofia shiver. "Bit drafty, maybe." she says, leaning against a wall, content to persue a bit of smalltalk.
Lydia says "//God, I'm sorry, but I'm finding myself in a completely braindead space -_- I'm not sure I can really do a scene like this right now. Sorry, should have really realized that before..."
From somewhere, radio static can be heard, like someone trying to find a good station on an antique stereo. It sounds like it may be coming from Lydia's bedroom. But surely, it is a neighbor. The walls are thin in the apartment complex afterall. Probably for the need of the construction workers to build quick. One has to often accept that when they live in an apartment that they share the space with everyone around them.
Jack must have been in the hallway of the apartment complex when the door to Apartment 101 suddenly slammed shut. Fortuitous? Possibly. Though the owner has gone back to doing chores while Sofia makes the small talk with her about the place being drafty, Jack may sense that there is something more at play than simply the doors on either side of the apartment breezeway being open and causing the wind to howl and the door to shut. Though, it is not out of the realm of possibilities.
Stepping inside, Jack pauses. There is a tilt of his head. "Is everything all right?" he asks, scanning the room with low curiosity. As he does, he fingers the crucifix around his neck, muttering a low prayer. "I am Father Jack Francis," he introduces himself.
Sofia inclines her head to the priest. "Oh. Hello. What brings you here. Father Jack." she says, respectfully. "I think it's just drafty in here...but your concern...I might just be paranoid." she says, trailing off, shaking her head.
"A sense of something wrong," Jack tells Sofia. He smiles at her, but it is clear there is some worry in his eyes. "What is your name?"
It takes Jack a good amount of force to open up the door. Something has made it stick, and there is even some resistance to his pushing, like something is trying to force it closed again. However, it does give, eventually, for Jack to poke his head in, where he finds Sofia, who was just being a good samaritan. And now look?
Re: It takes Jack a good amount of force to open up the door. Something has made it stick, and there is even some resistance to his pushing, like something is trying to force it closed again. However, it does give, eventually, for Jack to poke his head in, where he finds Sofia, who was just being a good samaritan. And now look?
And now look, indeed. Something crawls down the back of Jack's neck as he talks to Sofia.
The static from the radio is still echoing from what appears to be the bedroom. Some neighbor perhaps getting ready for their day? Something about it, though, as Jack would know, feels -off-.
Sofia looks faintly, distantly purturbed, not by the Father, but by something else. "Oh, I am Sofia, new in town. Planning to attend the institute, was just helping Lydia move in...then the door slammed."
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Sofia," Jack tells her. "I am vicar at the Institute -- we should talk. For now, though?" he says. "Just stay behind me, a little." There's a step towards the bedroom. "This town is full of unease," he explains to Sofia as he approaches the bedroom door. Now the crucifix is out; it dangles from a cord with a variety of other charms, and Jack works his fingers through them, chanting an idle low protective spell in doggrel Latin.
The door to the bedroom suddenly flies open. With a force that it hits the wall and bounces off it. It does not, fortunately for the person who lives there, leave a dent in the thin wall, stopped by the rubber doorstop before it has the chance. With the static, though Sofia may not recognize it, Jack would see a figure waver in and out, etched and scratched like the static that it draws energy from.
Sofia looks like she has some kind of idea of what this could mean. Something vague. And she obeys.
"Bullets will not help us here," Jack tells Sofia. "Do you have faith?" he asks the stocky woman. "If you do, call on it." This was not a journey where he planned some exorcism -- he has a bible on him, to be sure. That's a book. He may have a bell. He is short a candle. There's a glance around the room. "Grab that candle there," he asks Sofia, indicating some Bath & Body Works scented candle on the table. "Do you have a lighter?" he asks. "Can you light it?"
Revolvers won't help much, as Sofia admits. This will take more than a bullet. Though it may have been a bullet that did whatever it is in.
Sofia stride over and grabs up the scented candle. Then looks around wildly for a lighter.
Sofia snap her fingers, and walks over, and lights the candle on the stove, covering the flame and resuming her place not-quite cowering behind the grizzled priest.
There is a flicker of the apparition once more, becoming solid, for a moment. Something that even Sofia would be able to see, having made themselves visible in the time that it rushes from the bedroom toward the woman, arms extended with hands ready to wrap around the woman's throat. However, before it makes contact, it disappears, and leaves with a bone chilling rush of air that both she and Jack are able to feel.
There is a whisper in that frigid air that lingers in the heads of Jack and Sofia, "This is my house!"
Sofia presses herself to the priest in fear, still holding the candle, thankfully. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" She says, loudly!
Cancer kills, you know -- Jack gave up smoking some time ago. "Light it!" he urges Sofia. His pocket Bible is produced as Sofia gets the candle lit. "Here," he urges to her, flipping through the Bible as he hands her a small brass bell. "Ring the bell. Walk shoulder and shoulder with me towards the spirit," he says. "The bell should be in your left hand, the candle in your right." He begins to read: "...Calling the Twelve to him, he began to send them out two by two and gave them authority of unpure spirits." A glance at the stocky woman. "Today we are the two, Sofia."
He raises his voice: "Spirit, in the name of the Lord we abjure thee. Thou art lost -- this is not your house. This woman, who is a child of God, is not yours. This place is not yours. You must be gone, in the name of God!"
Sofia square her shoulders, and puts things as he requested, bell in left, candle in right. She rings the bell, the sound steeling her resolve as she strides with the Father in lockstep.
The spirit, vengeful, spiteful. Unaware? It reappears. It tries to affect the good book in Jack's hand. First it starts with the pages aflutter, then her hands are on it, seeking to pull it. But there is little effect. "It is mine. You are trespassing!" Unaware that she is the trespasser in a home that, by the look and style of her clothing, hasn't been hers in quite a while.
Sofia stands firm with Father Jack. Her eyes wide with fear and curiosity at the apparition.
It is good that this is Haven and not Amityville, no? But all the same, the request is the same to Sofia and Jack "Get Out."
"Tresspass not in this place," Jack declaims to the spirit. Sidelong at Sofia. "Ring the bell as if you life depends on it, Miss Sofia," he tells her. Perhaps it does. "Trespass not in this place, for it is sanctified against sin!" If it is Lydia's apartment, it may be the exact opposite -- but perhaps she's just moved in. "Begone this place. Go to the desert, where spirits dwell!"
Sofia rings the bell like a Salvation army santa before closing time!
The spirit falters. Its forehead caked with blood, and the back of its head shattered, brain matter clear as day through skull fractures. "I am not dead!" She clearly is. The apparition becomes solid again for Sofia to bear witness to her tragedy, unknown whether it is self-inflicted or she was murdered. The blood oozes from the wound, particles of bone and brain splashing to the floor.
Sofia gasp loudly, her hand working on auto-pilot, clanging that little brass bell, turning pale as a sheet.
"You are dead," Jack tells the spirit, his words working in rhythm with Sofia's clanging of the bell. "Eternal rest grant unto thee, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon thee." His prayer is in time with the bell. "May thy soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." He raises the book. "Go," he commands the spirit. "Go, and rest in peace."
Sofia steady the rhythm of the bell to something more steady, for the benefit of the father. Under her breath, she whispers the Lords prayer, for good measure.
When Jack confirms that the entity is in fact dead, the being looks from him to Sofia and then down to a hand which now holds onto a ghostly-image of a gun. The barrel looks like it may be hot, or was, when it had originally been shot. Smoke, like the mists that surround Haven, drifts lazily from it. It was not in her hand before. There comes a sudden look of recognition, and sadness. In a ghost's eyes? Perhaps that was always there. The ghost-gun is dropped, and disappers before it hits the ground. There are no words from it, as the entrance and exit wounds begin to stitch and weave back together. Its form begins to glow, becoming overbearing to look at. And then, just as fast as it came, it is gone. And the room is left in darkness, or at least temporary darkness as the two spirit banishers are left to adjust to the normalcy.
"Amen," Jack tells Sofia as the spirit fades. He turns to look at her, and then there's a low pause. "Speak nothing of what you saw here," he tells her. "Not until we can talk about what happened."
Sofia does not move her gaze from where the spirit was. "Is it gone?" She asks the father.