Encounterlogs
Meridiths Odd Encounter Sr Legion 240220
Meridith's ordinary night turned nightmarish when she was suddenly abducted from the comfort of her home, waking up in a metal cage in the back of a truck, surrounded by darkness and the unsettling noise of clattering cages. In her dire circumstances, she fought panic and hopelessness, courageously attempting to manipulate her environment with her telekinetic abilities, though finding herself painfully aware of her limits. Despite her efforts to escape or signal for help, the stark realization dawned on her that she might be headed for a fate worse than she could have imagined, possibly being sold into the dark recesses of the supernatural world. Amidst her growing despair, she recognized the heart-pounding fear dominating her thoughts, painting vivid images of the horrors that awaited her in faerie markets or demon armies.
In a desperate bid for freedom, Meridith managed to snatch the keys from one of her captors during an unnerving and violent confrontation outside the truck, under the cold gaze of the night sky. Fighting through the paralyzing jolts of a taser and the icy grip of fear, she unlocked her cage and engaged in a fierce struggle for her life. Utilizing her limited fighting skills and driven by a primal need to survive, she ultimately subdued her attacker, seizing a momentary chance to flee into the unknown. Stripped of everything but her resolve and scant clothing against the winter's chill, Meridith's flight was a testament to her resilience and determination, venturing into the cold night in search of salvation, leaving behind the echoes of her defiance and a trail of footprints in the snow.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRLegion):SRLegion)
[Mon Feb 19 2024]
On Mariner's Highway
Stretching east and west is this one long and dusty highway road. The
asphalt of the pavement has seen a better day; it's patched and worn,
crumbling at the edges of its shoulders where an abundance of wild grasses
takes over. They slump into low ditches at the sides where water is meant
to pool, and beyond that are weak fences and forested property to the south,
as well as rolling hills to the north.
It is night, about 10F(-12C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)
Meridith was getting ready for a nap: her leggings off, in just underwear and an undershirt, when the dart hit her neck. She heard a sound, an instant before, and she even started to turn, but it wasn't fast enough: it was just the briefest blossoming pinch and then darkness, filling her vision.
When she awakes, she is in a cage. It's small for a human being and large for a dog, and, from the sound, it appears to be in the back of a truck, jostling somewhere along a highway. More cages fill the back of this truck, though at least for now Meridith seems to be the only occupant. If she had items, they're gone, with the girl down to just the underwear and shirt she was wearing. It's hard to know if it is day or night, with only the unrelieved metal of the walls. Indeed, in here it is so dark that she can barely see, with only a tiny glimmer of red emergency light illuminating the back of the truck.
Meridith groans. Drearily beginning to stir she lets out a soft sound. She's not in bed? Where are her blankets? He covers...? Clothes...? She grimaces and her eyes open to the red light. "Huhn...who...? Where..." She tries to take stock of her surroundings.
Who, right now, is no one. Thunk, thunk, thunk. The cages rattle as the truck drives down the road, a kind of shaky kind of noise. In the scheme of things, blankets would be nice. A pillow would be nice, as a particularly shuddering winter pothole makes Meridith's head hit the cage floor. It hurts, a little, though it doesn't wound her.
The cacophony of a dozen metal cages rattling together in the back of the box truck creates a relentless, jarring symphony. Each bump and turn in the road sends the cages into a chaotic dance, their bars clashing with a sharp, metallic clang that echoes within the confined space. The sound is erratic, a dissonant mixture of high-pitched screeches and deeper, resonant thuds, as if each cage is vying for dominance in this confined auditory arena. The continuous vibration creates an almost palpable tension, a relentless noise that seems to amplify in the absence of any other sound. As the truck accelerates and decelerates, the tempo of the rattling shifts, adding an unpredictable rhythm to the already unsettling noise. The overlapping clamor of the cages not only fills the air but also seems to reverberate through the metal walls of the truck, making the entire vehicle an unwilling participant in this discordant concert.
Meridith lets out a sharp hiss of pain as her head hit's the floor, she moves to sit, but the chill of the floor forces her to crouch. Her teeth chatter, adrenaline and fear a potent combination to keep her alert, only desperate to keep herself from losing control of it. Easy enough to devolve in that panic. She tries to grab a bar to hold steady and looks around. A tool. A weapon. A key. Something or anything that might be within reach of her gifts.
Gifts, indeed. As Meridith reaches out with her mind, she can grasp at the cages. It takes effort, the steel sliding through her mental effort, but she can make them bang, make them topple, make them fall. There's rising panic, though -- moving other cages won't get her free, and in the dim light she can't see an obvious tool or weapon. As she shifts cages from side to side in her search, the lack seems extremely apparent, as if this is a place that is cleaned of all such things. Rising concern suggests that she is not the first supernatural to be confined in the back of this truck.
Meridith lets out a frustrated growl. "DAMNIT! Damnit, damnit..." she hisses. "Steady, Meri. Steady." She reminds herself aloud. She shifts and closes her eyes trying to concentrate. Fighting back terror and tears.
A cavalcade of terrible ideas runs through Meridith's mind, each more disturbing than the last. The powerful have ways to break Sanctuary, after all -- the Syndicate, for instance, routinely abducts people from all sorts of places, and there are magics, too, to destroy that spell. All the time scout reports show people being abducted to other realms -- could that be happening to her? Could she be being taken to the Other, to the Wilds... to Hell?
After all, they say that the slave market in the faerie Golden City is unrivaled, and with Meridith's shock-white hair she might fetch some perfect price. In contrast, the recruiters for the demon armies in District 82 are always looking for fresh meat, dragged in chains through the gates. It's hard to fight off fear, setting in. It manifests as a deep, unsettling chill that creeps through her body, heightening the senses to an almost painful acuity. It's the shadow in the corner of Meridith's eye that vanishes when looked at directly, the unidentifiable noise in the dead of night that sends a shiver down the spine. Her mind races, conjuring myriad possibilities, each more menacing than the last, as imagination fills the gaps of the unknown with ominous specters. This type of fear is paralyzing, a gnawing uncertainty that clutches at the gut, making the heart thud heavily against the chest, as the breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each inhale tainted with the icy touch of dread.
Meridith lets out a quiet sob shaking her head. She did everything right, didn't she? She was careful. She was in her own home, getting ready for bed when she was abducted. She wasn't out, wasn't drinking, wasn't taking on anyone. For all the stupid risks she took it was when she was her most secure that this occured.
Feeling sorry for herself and miserable, gripped by the terror of this impossible situation. Her anger boils out, grabbed and pulling at her cage, trying to tear it open. But these cages, make for the supernatural, she might be impressive for her age, but she's no stronger than a mortal. "LET ME OUT!" she bellows. Howling in a berserk terrified anger
If it's a dream, how can she kill its author?
Screaming, though: screaming always helps. Over the cacophonous rattle of the cages, Meridith's shouted words seem to echo through the closed-off space of the box truck. There's no response at first, but then she can hear it -- someone turning up the music in the front of the cab.
Through the thin divide between the cab and the rear of the box truck, the sound of Russian pop music trickles in, its upbeat tempo at odds with the grim setting. The synthesized beats and slick production, characteristic of the genre, take on an eerie quality, echoing off the cold metal surfaces. The muffled, unknown lyrics seem to just be testament to the drivers -- they're there. They heard Meridith. They just don't care. Still, at least... it's some contact. There's someone, somehow she can reach.
A response is something. Meridith anchors herself to it. The music, she takes a moment and tries to collect herself, keeping her hyperventilating breath and rapidly racing heart rate under control. Deep gulps of cold air, pressing her head to cold bars. Closing her eyes she draws herself in.
Centering one's self amidst fear involves a deliberate, inward journey to find a core of calm within the storm of emotions. It starts with focusing on the breath, each inhale and exhale becoming a lifeline, steadying the racing heart and grounding the mind. As the breath deepens, the immediate grip of fear begins to loosen, making room for a sense of presence and awareness of the moment. This inner stillness allows for the recognition that fear is a transient emotion, not the entirety of existence. By anchoring in this newfound stability, one can observe the fear without being overwhelmed by it, finding a sense of clarity and resilience amidst the turbulence.
It's a chore, though -- it's hard, finding focus, amidst the Russian music and clattering cages, but she's there. She has control -- and now, she needs a plan.
Meridith can't break the cage. She doesn't have the strength or the means. She can't throw the cage with her in it, she wouldn't be able to maintain control. She has no weapon, not that some talent with the blade would make her capable of cutting through the bars. She could surprise them, but they likely won't give her a chance to. In the dark she crouches, she closes her eyes, and she whispers a prayer. "Can anyone hear me?"
And then the box truck screeches to a halt. The music shuts off, the engine dies, and then it seems as if someone is getting out of the passenger and driver side, walking around.
Meridith shifts, saving herself back on the menu as the opportunity presents itself. She makes herself small, crouched, muscles tensing as they prepare kinetic energy. A plan half formed? She waits.
A plan, half-formed, indeed, as the back of the truck opens. It is night outside, and two men look inside. "Bitch," one of them says, in an Eastern European accent. "Stop all the rattling." They have stun guns, it looks like. "You need to piss?" he asks her.
The other says, "I do not want her fouling the truck like the last one."
Meridith says "Y-yes, please..."
Meridith takes a deep breath, it's not hard to come across as a passive scared young woman. She's only a step removed. She shrinks to the back of the cage to have them open it. "...W-where are you taking me?" she asks, trying to get a read on who or what she is dealing with.
"You've been bought..." the first man glances at his phone, the blue light briefly illuminating the night. "Meridith Walker." The second man steps forward. He doesn't unlock the cage; no, he just drags it out entirely, with strength that doesn't seem quite human, carrying it away into the snow to drop it down.
"Go on," he says. "Do your fucking business, bitch."
Meridith says "I-I can't piss through the bars it'll get all over the cage!"
Meridith insists, gazing at the bar, shuddering in the cold. She twists her gaze around, looking for land marks. Anything.
Cold snow piles up by the side of the road, a stark white contrast against the asphalt's dark expanse. Its surface, untouched by footsteps, glistens under the faint winter sun, the crystals catching the light and scattering it in a muted sparkle. The chill in the air is palpable, turning breath into mist as it meets the frigid temperatures. This snow, once a soft powder, has compacted over time into a dense, icy barrier, its edges tinged with the grime of passing vehicles, marking the boundary between the traveled path and the winter's untouched quietude. As Meridith looks around, the forest seems -- forest, undifferentiated, but the road could Mariner's Highway. Mile markers suggest she is some distance outside of town.
When Meridith speaks up, the first man laughs. "Well," says the man. "Don't worry. When we get to the warehouse, we'll just hose you and it down."
Meridith deep breath. Frozen air into the lungs. Chilled body. She's uneasy, unsettled. Adrenaline courses again, mixed with the chill of the night, it's cold. There's no chance better than this, she feels, bleak as it might be. They want her alive. Failure means greater guard, but what other chance does she have? People may look for her, but they wouldn't know where. It's a big town, a big world. She lets out a little shudder of terror.
She pivots, her cage, if either of them have the key, that would make them her target. But they're strong, probably moreso than her judging by the ease at which they lifted the cage. It doesn't matter. She throws a hand forward and yanks back, telekinetic force trying to catch the man unaware and lunge forward to seize him.
He hits the cage with a thunk. He wasn't expecting this, and sure enough -- there's a key, dangling from his belt. If Meridith tries hard, she can reach out and snag it. The other man is shouting, now, though -- he's pulling his taser to try to aim at Meridith.
Meridith lets out a howl, bloodthirsty, forced out by an abundance of terror and fury. She throws the man back with her will, trying to disrupt his aim. One hand trying to secure him in a headlock, the other trying to pull the keys to the cage and free herself. The chance of freedom spurs her, the terror in her stomach ignites her body into action.
...and then the keys are in Meridith's hand. Success. Of course, so is a sense of electric pain, as a taser impacts her. The cord is tangled on the cage, though, so while she is hurting? She's still moving, not completely incapacitated.
Meridith cries out trying to command her body to move, trying to grab at the prongs, rip them out of her. Something. Anything. Not yet!
Meridith says "RUN! OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
She can move -- it just hurts. It just hurts, so much. But Meridith has the keys in her hand, even if the cage is still locked. Swearing, he is trying to reload his taser, even as the look in his eyes suggests he is considering transitioning to the handgun at his side.
Meridith pulls herself up and goes for the long on the door. She has to go quick, the only chance she has is to stay on him...maybe get that gun. She lets out an agonized cry, pushing her body to move past what it wants to give her, but the reserves are being burnt as she goes.
Click, click -- fumbling, frozen fingers on the lock, Meridith's joints aching from the elecricity. But then the cage is open, and she can stand. She's in the woods, in her underwear, but at least she's free. For now, at least, he's still on the taser, reloading it... she has time, but only a little to make a move. The woods behind her are an escape, or she could risk a fight.
Meridith is half naked, in the middle of winter. She could probably make it out of here, but if she got unlucky? The odds probably favor her running, but her mind rejects it. Pride perhaps. Or fear? To die in a fight or lose feels better than freezing to death half naked alone in the woods. It's an odd calculus that guides the child of a 'god'. She sprints towards the man attempting to pull him into a throw.
Her kingdom for a sword.
The girl is adept, in a pinch -- she has some skill, and some speed, and Meridith gets the drop on the man as she rushes at him. He goes down, in a grunt, as she's in the fight now, him kneeing and grabbing at her as she fights back against him.
Meridith protects her body as best she can but keeps up her offensive. Howling, the cold numbing her body, she tries to grab at his dominant hand trying to pivot, using her top position to pin it hard against his back, her ultimate goal is a rear naked choke. Well. Half naked in her case.
In the midst of this snow-blanketed clearing by the side of the highway, a fierce and unrestrained fight unfolds between the man and Meridith, their breaths visible in the cold air as they engage in a relentless physical struggle. Their movements are frantic and forceful, hands grappling for any advantage, fingers slipping against cold, wet clothing -- where they have clothing at all. Snow flies up around them with each forceful kick and desperate shove, the white expanse marred by their chaotic dance. The sounds of their confrontation, muffled by the snow's insulating layer, are punctuated by grunts of exertion and the thud of bodies colliding with the ground, only to rise again.
As Meridith moves for the chokehold, she gets her arm around the man, starting to squeeze.
Meridith pulls tight. She doesn't say a word, she doesn't have the breath for it. She squeezes with every ounce of force her exhausted, tired, freezing body can manage. A low groan begins to escape from her throat. Desperate. Violent. A lifetime away from the girl she used to be. Even weeks prior. A stranger to herself. But the errant thought doesn't cross her mind in this moment, it may later, when she's quiet, when she feels safe once more. If she ever does.
The man goes limp, then, in Meridith's arms. She's got some freedom -- a brief moment to make an escape.
Meridith grabs his shoes off his feet, and then books it, desperate, in the direction opposite of the truck looking for signs of civilization
In a desperate bid for freedom, Meridith managed to snatch the keys from one of her captors during an unnerving and violent confrontation outside the truck, under the cold gaze of the night sky. Fighting through the paralyzing jolts of a taser and the icy grip of fear, she unlocked her cage and engaged in a fierce struggle for her life. Utilizing her limited fighting skills and driven by a primal need to survive, she ultimately subdued her attacker, seizing a momentary chance to flee into the unknown. Stripped of everything but her resolve and scant clothing against the winter's chill, Meridith's flight was a testament to her resilience and determination, venturing into the cold night in search of salvation, leaving behind the echoes of her defiance and a trail of footprints in the snow.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRLegion):SRLegion)
[Mon Feb 19 2024]
On Mariner's Highway
Stretching east and west is this one long and dusty highway road. The
asphalt of the pavement has seen a better day; it's patched and worn,
crumbling at the edges of its shoulders where an abundance of wild grasses
takes over. They slump into low ditches at the sides where water is meant
to pool, and beyond that are weak fences and forested property to the south,
as well as rolling hills to the north.
It is night, about 10F(-12C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)
Meridith was getting ready for a nap: her leggings off, in just underwear and an undershirt, when the dart hit her neck. She heard a sound, an instant before, and she even started to turn, but it wasn't fast enough: it was just the briefest blossoming pinch and then darkness, filling her vision.
When she awakes, she is in a cage. It's small for a human being and large for a dog, and, from the sound, it appears to be in the back of a truck, jostling somewhere along a highway. More cages fill the back of this truck, though at least for now Meridith seems to be the only occupant. If she had items, they're gone, with the girl down to just the underwear and shirt she was wearing. It's hard to know if it is day or night, with only the unrelieved metal of the walls. Indeed, in here it is so dark that she can barely see, with only a tiny glimmer of red emergency light illuminating the back of the truck.
Meridith groans. Drearily beginning to stir she lets out a soft sound. She's not in bed? Where are her blankets? He covers...? Clothes...? She grimaces and her eyes open to the red light. "Huhn...who...? Where..." She tries to take stock of her surroundings.
Who, right now, is no one. Thunk, thunk, thunk. The cages rattle as the truck drives down the road, a kind of shaky kind of noise. In the scheme of things, blankets would be nice. A pillow would be nice, as a particularly shuddering winter pothole makes Meridith's head hit the cage floor. It hurts, a little, though it doesn't wound her.
The cacophony of a dozen metal cages rattling together in the back of the box truck creates a relentless, jarring symphony. Each bump and turn in the road sends the cages into a chaotic dance, their bars clashing with a sharp, metallic clang that echoes within the confined space. The sound is erratic, a dissonant mixture of high-pitched screeches and deeper, resonant thuds, as if each cage is vying for dominance in this confined auditory arena. The continuous vibration creates an almost palpable tension, a relentless noise that seems to amplify in the absence of any other sound. As the truck accelerates and decelerates, the tempo of the rattling shifts, adding an unpredictable rhythm to the already unsettling noise. The overlapping clamor of the cages not only fills the air but also seems to reverberate through the metal walls of the truck, making the entire vehicle an unwilling participant in this discordant concert.
Meridith lets out a sharp hiss of pain as her head hit's the floor, she moves to sit, but the chill of the floor forces her to crouch. Her teeth chatter, adrenaline and fear a potent combination to keep her alert, only desperate to keep herself from losing control of it. Easy enough to devolve in that panic. She tries to grab a bar to hold steady and looks around. A tool. A weapon. A key. Something or anything that might be within reach of her gifts.
Gifts, indeed. As Meridith reaches out with her mind, she can grasp at the cages. It takes effort, the steel sliding through her mental effort, but she can make them bang, make them topple, make them fall. There's rising panic, though -- moving other cages won't get her free, and in the dim light she can't see an obvious tool or weapon. As she shifts cages from side to side in her search, the lack seems extremely apparent, as if this is a place that is cleaned of all such things. Rising concern suggests that she is not the first supernatural to be confined in the back of this truck.
Meridith lets out a frustrated growl. "DAMNIT! Damnit, damnit..." she hisses. "Steady, Meri. Steady." She reminds herself aloud. She shifts and closes her eyes trying to concentrate. Fighting back terror and tears.
A cavalcade of terrible ideas runs through Meridith's mind, each more disturbing than the last. The powerful have ways to break Sanctuary, after all -- the Syndicate, for instance, routinely abducts people from all sorts of places, and there are magics, too, to destroy that spell. All the time scout reports show people being abducted to other realms -- could that be happening to her? Could she be being taken to the Other, to the Wilds... to Hell?
After all, they say that the slave market in the faerie Golden City is unrivaled, and with Meridith's shock-white hair she might fetch some perfect price. In contrast, the recruiters for the demon armies in District 82 are always looking for fresh meat, dragged in chains through the gates. It's hard to fight off fear, setting in. It manifests as a deep, unsettling chill that creeps through her body, heightening the senses to an almost painful acuity. It's the shadow in the corner of Meridith's eye that vanishes when looked at directly, the unidentifiable noise in the dead of night that sends a shiver down the spine. Her mind races, conjuring myriad possibilities, each more menacing than the last, as imagination fills the gaps of the unknown with ominous specters. This type of fear is paralyzing, a gnawing uncertainty that clutches at the gut, making the heart thud heavily against the chest, as the breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each inhale tainted with the icy touch of dread.
Meridith lets out a quiet sob shaking her head. She did everything right, didn't she? She was careful. She was in her own home, getting ready for bed when she was abducted. She wasn't out, wasn't drinking, wasn't taking on anyone. For all the stupid risks she took it was when she was her most secure that this occured.
Feeling sorry for herself and miserable, gripped by the terror of this impossible situation. Her anger boils out, grabbed and pulling at her cage, trying to tear it open. But these cages, make for the supernatural, she might be impressive for her age, but she's no stronger than a mortal. "LET ME OUT!" she bellows. Howling in a berserk terrified anger
If it's a dream, how can she kill its author?
Screaming, though: screaming always helps. Over the cacophonous rattle of the cages, Meridith's shouted words seem to echo through the closed-off space of the box truck. There's no response at first, but then she can hear it -- someone turning up the music in the front of the cab.
Through the thin divide between the cab and the rear of the box truck, the sound of Russian pop music trickles in, its upbeat tempo at odds with the grim setting. The synthesized beats and slick production, characteristic of the genre, take on an eerie quality, echoing off the cold metal surfaces. The muffled, unknown lyrics seem to just be testament to the drivers -- they're there. They heard Meridith. They just don't care. Still, at least... it's some contact. There's someone, somehow she can reach.
A response is something. Meridith anchors herself to it. The music, she takes a moment and tries to collect herself, keeping her hyperventilating breath and rapidly racing heart rate under control. Deep gulps of cold air, pressing her head to cold bars. Closing her eyes she draws herself in.
Centering one's self amidst fear involves a deliberate, inward journey to find a core of calm within the storm of emotions. It starts with focusing on the breath, each inhale and exhale becoming a lifeline, steadying the racing heart and grounding the mind. As the breath deepens, the immediate grip of fear begins to loosen, making room for a sense of presence and awareness of the moment. This inner stillness allows for the recognition that fear is a transient emotion, not the entirety of existence. By anchoring in this newfound stability, one can observe the fear without being overwhelmed by it, finding a sense of clarity and resilience amidst the turbulence.
It's a chore, though -- it's hard, finding focus, amidst the Russian music and clattering cages, but she's there. She has control -- and now, she needs a plan.
Meridith can't break the cage. She doesn't have the strength or the means. She can't throw the cage with her in it, she wouldn't be able to maintain control. She has no weapon, not that some talent with the blade would make her capable of cutting through the bars. She could surprise them, but they likely won't give her a chance to. In the dark she crouches, she closes her eyes, and she whispers a prayer. "Can anyone hear me?"
And then the box truck screeches to a halt. The music shuts off, the engine dies, and then it seems as if someone is getting out of the passenger and driver side, walking around.
Meridith shifts, saving herself back on the menu as the opportunity presents itself. She makes herself small, crouched, muscles tensing as they prepare kinetic energy. A plan half formed? She waits.
A plan, half-formed, indeed, as the back of the truck opens. It is night outside, and two men look inside. "Bitch," one of them says, in an Eastern European accent. "Stop all the rattling." They have stun guns, it looks like. "You need to piss?" he asks her.
The other says, "I do not want her fouling the truck like the last one."
Meridith says "Y-yes, please..."
Meridith takes a deep breath, it's not hard to come across as a passive scared young woman. She's only a step removed. She shrinks to the back of the cage to have them open it. "...W-where are you taking me?" she asks, trying to get a read on who or what she is dealing with.
"You've been bought..." the first man glances at his phone, the blue light briefly illuminating the night. "Meridith Walker." The second man steps forward. He doesn't unlock the cage; no, he just drags it out entirely, with strength that doesn't seem quite human, carrying it away into the snow to drop it down.
"Go on," he says. "Do your fucking business, bitch."
Meridith says "I-I can't piss through the bars it'll get all over the cage!"
Meridith insists, gazing at the bar, shuddering in the cold. She twists her gaze around, looking for land marks. Anything.
Cold snow piles up by the side of the road, a stark white contrast against the asphalt's dark expanse. Its surface, untouched by footsteps, glistens under the faint winter sun, the crystals catching the light and scattering it in a muted sparkle. The chill in the air is palpable, turning breath into mist as it meets the frigid temperatures. This snow, once a soft powder, has compacted over time into a dense, icy barrier, its edges tinged with the grime of passing vehicles, marking the boundary between the traveled path and the winter's untouched quietude. As Meridith looks around, the forest seems -- forest, undifferentiated, but the road could Mariner's Highway. Mile markers suggest she is some distance outside of town.
When Meridith speaks up, the first man laughs. "Well," says the man. "Don't worry. When we get to the warehouse, we'll just hose you and it down."
Meridith deep breath. Frozen air into the lungs. Chilled body. She's uneasy, unsettled. Adrenaline courses again, mixed with the chill of the night, it's cold. There's no chance better than this, she feels, bleak as it might be. They want her alive. Failure means greater guard, but what other chance does she have? People may look for her, but they wouldn't know where. It's a big town, a big world. She lets out a little shudder of terror.
She pivots, her cage, if either of them have the key, that would make them her target. But they're strong, probably moreso than her judging by the ease at which they lifted the cage. It doesn't matter. She throws a hand forward and yanks back, telekinetic force trying to catch the man unaware and lunge forward to seize him.
He hits the cage with a thunk. He wasn't expecting this, and sure enough -- there's a key, dangling from his belt. If Meridith tries hard, she can reach out and snag it. The other man is shouting, now, though -- he's pulling his taser to try to aim at Meridith.
Meridith lets out a howl, bloodthirsty, forced out by an abundance of terror and fury. She throws the man back with her will, trying to disrupt his aim. One hand trying to secure him in a headlock, the other trying to pull the keys to the cage and free herself. The chance of freedom spurs her, the terror in her stomach ignites her body into action.
...and then the keys are in Meridith's hand. Success. Of course, so is a sense of electric pain, as a taser impacts her. The cord is tangled on the cage, though, so while she is hurting? She's still moving, not completely incapacitated.
Meridith cries out trying to command her body to move, trying to grab at the prongs, rip them out of her. Something. Anything. Not yet!
Meridith says "RUN! OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
She can move -- it just hurts. It just hurts, so much. But Meridith has the keys in her hand, even if the cage is still locked. Swearing, he is trying to reload his taser, even as the look in his eyes suggests he is considering transitioning to the handgun at his side.
Meridith pulls herself up and goes for the long on the door. She has to go quick, the only chance she has is to stay on him...maybe get that gun. She lets out an agonized cry, pushing her body to move past what it wants to give her, but the reserves are being burnt as she goes.
Click, click -- fumbling, frozen fingers on the lock, Meridith's joints aching from the elecricity. But then the cage is open, and she can stand. She's in the woods, in her underwear, but at least she's free. For now, at least, he's still on the taser, reloading it... she has time, but only a little to make a move. The woods behind her are an escape, or she could risk a fight.
Meridith is half naked, in the middle of winter. She could probably make it out of here, but if she got unlucky? The odds probably favor her running, but her mind rejects it. Pride perhaps. Or fear? To die in a fight or lose feels better than freezing to death half naked alone in the woods. It's an odd calculus that guides the child of a 'god'. She sprints towards the man attempting to pull him into a throw.
Her kingdom for a sword.
The girl is adept, in a pinch -- she has some skill, and some speed, and Meridith gets the drop on the man as she rushes at him. He goes down, in a grunt, as she's in the fight now, him kneeing and grabbing at her as she fights back against him.
Meridith protects her body as best she can but keeps up her offensive. Howling, the cold numbing her body, she tries to grab at his dominant hand trying to pivot, using her top position to pin it hard against his back, her ultimate goal is a rear naked choke. Well. Half naked in her case.
In the midst of this snow-blanketed clearing by the side of the highway, a fierce and unrestrained fight unfolds between the man and Meridith, their breaths visible in the cold air as they engage in a relentless physical struggle. Their movements are frantic and forceful, hands grappling for any advantage, fingers slipping against cold, wet clothing -- where they have clothing at all. Snow flies up around them with each forceful kick and desperate shove, the white expanse marred by their chaotic dance. The sounds of their confrontation, muffled by the snow's insulating layer, are punctuated by grunts of exertion and the thud of bodies colliding with the ground, only to rise again.
As Meridith moves for the chokehold, she gets her arm around the man, starting to squeeze.
Meridith pulls tight. She doesn't say a word, she doesn't have the breath for it. She squeezes with every ounce of force her exhausted, tired, freezing body can manage. A low groan begins to escape from her throat. Desperate. Violent. A lifetime away from the girl she used to be. Even weeks prior. A stranger to herself. But the errant thought doesn't cross her mind in this moment, it may later, when she's quiet, when she feels safe once more. If she ever does.
The man goes limp, then, in Meridith's arms. She's got some freedom -- a brief moment to make an escape.
Meridith grabs his shoes off his feet, and then books it, desperate, in the direction opposite of the truck looking for signs of civilization