Encounterlogs
Meridiths Odd Encounter Sr Legion 240422
In a lonely cabin surrounded by the tranquility of nature, Meridith faces a horrific internal battle against a vengeful spirit that has taken control of her body. This spirit, a demonborn warrior named Scamander whom Meridith had defeated in Hell, forces her to confront not only his presence but the darkest depths of her own rage and despair. As Scamander manipulates her actions and speaks with her voice, hurling vile threats and attempting to degrade her further, Meridith's struggle becomes not just for her own autonomy but for her very soul. In a desperate bid for control, she finds herself verbally sparring with the spirit, each exchange more malicious than the last, as Scamander seeks to enact his revenge through physical and psychological torment.
The climax of their confrontation unfolds in raw and violent fashion. Meridith, driven by a mixture of fury and desperation, manages to grab a knife with the intention of using it against the spirit. However, Scamander turns her hand against her, attempting to force self-inflicted wounds. In a final act of defilement, she drives the knife through her own hand, pinning it to the wall. This act of self-harm shakes the spirit, allowing Meridith a moment of leverage to exert her will over Scamander's. Drawing on a deep, untapped reserve of power within her, she channels her rage, pain, and protective love for the unborn child within her into a psychic howl that ultimately forces the spirit to recede. The story concludes with Meridith alone, wounded and weeping on the floor of her cabin, a symbol of her physical and emotional isolation. Yet within this desolate moment, there's a glimmer of solace in the protective love she harbors for her child, suggesting a complex blend of hate, love, and the drive for survival that defines her existence.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRLegion):SRLegion)
[Sun Apr 21 2024]
In A Small Cabin
In this small but well-designed living space the walls are adorned with wooden panels, giving a sense of nature indoors. To your left, there's a black sofa with plush cushions, and warious throw pillows. The sofa is strategically placed near a large window that allows natural light to fill the room during the day. The window also provides picturesque views of the surrounding wilderness.
On the opposite side, there's a neatly arranged bed with green linens and various mix-matched pillows. The bed is framed by a wooden headboard, adding to the rustic feel of the cabin. Overhead, a warm and subtle lighting fixture casts a soft glow, creating a tranquil ambiance in the sleeping area.
Adjacent to the bed, a built-in closet is seamlessly integrated into the wooden wall. The closet features sliding or folding doors, maximizing space efficiency. Inside, there are shelves, drawers, and hanging rods for organizing clothes and personal items, keeping the cabin clutter-free.
Overall, this one-bedroom cabin combines the comforts of modern living with the tranquility of nature, providing a serene retreat for those seeking a peaceful escape.
It is night, about 62F(16C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky. There is a full moon.
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
As the world spills back in upon Meridith's return from the nightmare, it becomes immediately apparent to the young woman that she is not alone. There's a -feeling- she gets when something is inside her -- whether it is Legion or Shemra or some other spirit -- and she has that feeling. Her extremities tingle, and the thing inside her seems to boil over with a little rage. It shakes in her -- she can feel its upset, shaking -- as it seems almost too mad for words.
Meridith doesn't notice, she's already feeling that way at the world, at the helpless feeling she has. She is on a precipice as is, of empty ennui and anger.
Then Meridith's limbs move of their own accord -- she crosses to a mirror, to stare at it, and for a moment there is double vision. She sees herself -- and she sees the beheaded figure of Scamander, too, the warrior she fought in Hell. He sets his head back on his shoulders and she can feel that in her body, something at her neck, as he snarls at her with her own voice. "Bitch."
Meridith exhales and pulls back. "Fuck you, dickhead!"
"Oh, fuck you," Meridith responds to herself. "Actually --" There's a motion, making Meridith move, as she feels the thing inside her throw her body in the direction of her bed. "I've never done this before," he tells her, narrating his jerky puppeteering of the woman's body. "But I can get my revenge on you, can't I? Fuck. Stuck up whore like you, bet you're tighter than a choir-boy's pucker." The crudeness, the evil of the man rushes over Meridith -- she can feel the vile hatred inside her.
Meridith lowers her head and lets out a furious snarl. "I will cut off my own limbs before I let you control them you worthless child killer! Get OUT of me this INSTANT!" she bellows, trying to force her body in reverse as she tumbles toward her bed
Unfortunately, right now the awful, child-killing spirit is in control of Meridith's limbs, not Meridith. He pushes her body down to the bed, and does his best to get her up on her hands and knees. His intention is obvious and lewd, but his control is imperfect -- Meridith is his co-pilot, or he is hers, and so her resistance means she tumbles off the bed onto the floor as she struggles for control. "Fucking cunt," he makes her swear, her lips twisted with anger. "I will treat you like the fucking whore you are for killing me."
Meridith growls as she hits the floor, moving her tangled limbs to try to snag a nearby knife. "I...I am NOBODIES plaything!" She commands. A deep and vicious repulsion floods her body. "You deserved to die you monster! And if you wish to feel that pain, I'll find a way to torment your spirit so you can die a thousand more worse ways!" A bit of a bluff certainly, but she feels determined to figure it out
As Meridith's hands close on the knife, there's a mocking tone in her own voice, the words ripped from her breath. "Oh, you stupid cunt," he tells her. "What are you doing to do? Stab yourself with that?" the spirit possessing her says. "Or is that what you want me to fuck you with? I ain't got a dick to fuck you, in your stupid slut body, but you ever fucked a girl with a sword before? She screams," the voice says. "But it's beautiful screams."
"Your worthless existence is little more than a wailing echo. Meaningless! You're dead, you worthless fucker, and I am the one who killed you! And I feel NOTHING but pleased! And nothing you could do to me will change ANYTHING!" Meridith scowls at the mirror.
Now the hand with the knife starts to move -- an act of will, from the spirit. "It's not going to change anything for me, Meridith's lips say to herself. "But I can sure as fuck change something for you, bitch." He's trying force her limbs to bring the knife down, towards her belly and thighs."
Now the hand with the knife starts to move -- an act of will, from the spirit. "It's not going to change anything for me," Meridith's lips say to herself. "But I can sure as fuck change something for you, bitch." He's trying force her limbs to bring the knife down, towards her belly and thighs.
"You. Will. NOT!" She commands, a howl of force, telekinetic energy with no purpose lashing out at her home. Meridith twists and pulls the blade elsewhere ramming it into her other hand and pinning it to the wall.
The blossom of pain when Meridith shoves the knife through her hand. The spirit feels that agony as well as Meridith does, and for there a moment his control over her body wavers. In medieval times, after all, monks would expiate their sins through the mortification of the flesh. Is Meridith doing the same, with the pain to punish the dead demonborn warrior inside her?
Meridith grips the knife and twists. "You. Will. Not. Hurt. My. Child!" She screams, violent and out of her mind with pain and anger and anguish. An outlet for all the miserable emotions she's been drowing in.
"NONE OF YOU! WILL EVER! HURT MY CHILD!" Meridith roars, indulging perhaps in the pain she might be inflicting the spirit inside her as she damages her own hand.
There are psychic rages that no one can touch -- the demonborn warrior in Meridith's head among them. That anger, that awful anger, is enough to batter the thing back, and she can feel its spirit receding inside her. It's as if it is digging clawed hands into her spirit, hanging on as best it can as Meridith's fury seeks to banish it to some black pit.
Meridith twists the blade, crying out. Her stomach twisting in pain, in agony. She hates this thing, she hates everything around her. She hates her sect mates, her cult, her enemies, her rivals, her friends. She hates everyone she has ever met in this despicable town. She hates this awful, evil, blighted world. She hates every monster, and every victim who has fed them. She hates herself. But there is one thing she cannot find it in herself, in this moment, to hate and it is inside of her. She tears at her own flesh, sawing the knife until she can bare no more, a nervous system at the ends of its endurance and lets out one more furious howl until at last it recedes to a quiet whimpering sob.
And then -- then, as her hand blossoms with pain -- she is alone. Meridith is alone, with only her hatred for company. Well: perhaps she is not completely alone, because deep in her womb is the only person she does not hate.
Meridith cries out in pain, falling to her knees as she bleeds within her cabin, sobbing worthless tears to nobody.
The climax of their confrontation unfolds in raw and violent fashion. Meridith, driven by a mixture of fury and desperation, manages to grab a knife with the intention of using it against the spirit. However, Scamander turns her hand against her, attempting to force self-inflicted wounds. In a final act of defilement, she drives the knife through her own hand, pinning it to the wall. This act of self-harm shakes the spirit, allowing Meridith a moment of leverage to exert her will over Scamander's. Drawing on a deep, untapped reserve of power within her, she channels her rage, pain, and protective love for the unborn child within her into a psychic howl that ultimately forces the spirit to recede. The story concludes with Meridith alone, wounded and weeping on the floor of her cabin, a symbol of her physical and emotional isolation. Yet within this desolate moment, there's a glimmer of solace in the protective love she harbors for her child, suggesting a complex blend of hate, love, and the drive for survival that defines her existence.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRLegion):SRLegion)
[Sun Apr 21 2024]
In A Small Cabin
In this small but well-designed living space the walls are adorned with wooden panels, giving a sense of nature indoors. To your left, there's a black sofa with plush cushions, and warious throw pillows. The sofa is strategically placed near a large window that allows natural light to fill the room during the day. The window also provides picturesque views of the surrounding wilderness.
On the opposite side, there's a neatly arranged bed with green linens and various mix-matched pillows. The bed is framed by a wooden headboard, adding to the rustic feel of the cabin. Overhead, a warm and subtle lighting fixture casts a soft glow, creating a tranquil ambiance in the sleeping area.
Adjacent to the bed, a built-in closet is seamlessly integrated into the wooden wall. The closet features sliding or folding doors, maximizing space efficiency. Inside, there are shelves, drawers, and hanging rods for organizing clothes and personal items, keeping the cabin clutter-free.
Overall, this one-bedroom cabin combines the comforts of modern living with the tranquility of nature, providing a serene retreat for those seeking a peaceful escape.
It is night, about 62F(16C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky. There is a full moon.
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
As the world spills back in upon Meridith's return from the nightmare, it becomes immediately apparent to the young woman that she is not alone. There's a -feeling- she gets when something is inside her -- whether it is Legion or Shemra or some other spirit -- and she has that feeling. Her extremities tingle, and the thing inside her seems to boil over with a little rage. It shakes in her -- she can feel its upset, shaking -- as it seems almost too mad for words.
Meridith doesn't notice, she's already feeling that way at the world, at the helpless feeling she has. She is on a precipice as is, of empty ennui and anger.
Then Meridith's limbs move of their own accord -- she crosses to a mirror, to stare at it, and for a moment there is double vision. She sees herself -- and she sees the beheaded figure of Scamander, too, the warrior she fought in Hell. He sets his head back on his shoulders and she can feel that in her body, something at her neck, as he snarls at her with her own voice. "Bitch."
Meridith exhales and pulls back. "Fuck you, dickhead!"
"Oh, fuck you," Meridith responds to herself. "Actually --" There's a motion, making Meridith move, as she feels the thing inside her throw her body in the direction of her bed. "I've never done this before," he tells her, narrating his jerky puppeteering of the woman's body. "But I can get my revenge on you, can't I? Fuck. Stuck up whore like you, bet you're tighter than a choir-boy's pucker." The crudeness, the evil of the man rushes over Meridith -- she can feel the vile hatred inside her.
Meridith lowers her head and lets out a furious snarl. "I will cut off my own limbs before I let you control them you worthless child killer! Get OUT of me this INSTANT!" she bellows, trying to force her body in reverse as she tumbles toward her bed
Unfortunately, right now the awful, child-killing spirit is in control of Meridith's limbs, not Meridith. He pushes her body down to the bed, and does his best to get her up on her hands and knees. His intention is obvious and lewd, but his control is imperfect -- Meridith is his co-pilot, or he is hers, and so her resistance means she tumbles off the bed onto the floor as she struggles for control. "Fucking cunt," he makes her swear, her lips twisted with anger. "I will treat you like the fucking whore you are for killing me."
Meridith growls as she hits the floor, moving her tangled limbs to try to snag a nearby knife. "I...I am NOBODIES plaything!" She commands. A deep and vicious repulsion floods her body. "You deserved to die you monster! And if you wish to feel that pain, I'll find a way to torment your spirit so you can die a thousand more worse ways!" A bit of a bluff certainly, but she feels determined to figure it out
As Meridith's hands close on the knife, there's a mocking tone in her own voice, the words ripped from her breath. "Oh, you stupid cunt," he tells her. "What are you doing to do? Stab yourself with that?" the spirit possessing her says. "Or is that what you want me to fuck you with? I ain't got a dick to fuck you, in your stupid slut body, but you ever fucked a girl with a sword before? She screams," the voice says. "But it's beautiful screams."
"Your worthless existence is little more than a wailing echo. Meaningless! You're dead, you worthless fucker, and I am the one who killed you! And I feel NOTHING but pleased! And nothing you could do to me will change ANYTHING!" Meridith scowls at the mirror.
Now the hand with the knife starts to move -- an act of will, from the spirit. "It's not going to change anything for me, Meridith's lips say to herself. "But I can sure as fuck change something for you, bitch." He's trying force her limbs to bring the knife down, towards her belly and thighs."
Now the hand with the knife starts to move -- an act of will, from the spirit. "It's not going to change anything for me," Meridith's lips say to herself. "But I can sure as fuck change something for you, bitch." He's trying force her limbs to bring the knife down, towards her belly and thighs.
"You. Will. NOT!" She commands, a howl of force, telekinetic energy with no purpose lashing out at her home. Meridith twists and pulls the blade elsewhere ramming it into her other hand and pinning it to the wall.
The blossom of pain when Meridith shoves the knife through her hand. The spirit feels that agony as well as Meridith does, and for there a moment his control over her body wavers. In medieval times, after all, monks would expiate their sins through the mortification of the flesh. Is Meridith doing the same, with the pain to punish the dead demonborn warrior inside her?
Meridith grips the knife and twists. "You. Will. Not. Hurt. My. Child!" She screams, violent and out of her mind with pain and anger and anguish. An outlet for all the miserable emotions she's been drowing in.
"NONE OF YOU! WILL EVER! HURT MY CHILD!" Meridith roars, indulging perhaps in the pain she might be inflicting the spirit inside her as she damages her own hand.
There are psychic rages that no one can touch -- the demonborn warrior in Meridith's head among them. That anger, that awful anger, is enough to batter the thing back, and she can feel its spirit receding inside her. It's as if it is digging clawed hands into her spirit, hanging on as best it can as Meridith's fury seeks to banish it to some black pit.
Meridith twists the blade, crying out. Her stomach twisting in pain, in agony. She hates this thing, she hates everything around her. She hates her sect mates, her cult, her enemies, her rivals, her friends. She hates everyone she has ever met in this despicable town. She hates this awful, evil, blighted world. She hates every monster, and every victim who has fed them. She hates herself. But there is one thing she cannot find it in herself, in this moment, to hate and it is inside of her. She tears at her own flesh, sawing the knife until she can bare no more, a nervous system at the ends of its endurance and lets out one more furious howl until at last it recedes to a quiet whimpering sob.
And then -- then, as her hand blossoms with pain -- she is alone. Meridith is alone, with only her hatred for company. Well: perhaps she is not completely alone, because deep in her womb is the only person she does not hate.
Meridith cries out in pain, falling to her knees as she bleeds within her cabin, sobbing worthless tears to nobody.