Encounterlogs
Zoes Odd Encounter Sr Iakres 240622
The dawn in Haven's sleepy township promises a serene start, yet a sudden outburst shatters the tranquility when a young boy, terrorized and convinced of a monstrous encounter, emerges beside the Fertile Valley Florists. With his pleas for help piercing the morning air, the concerned and steadfast Zoe, amidst her early morning floral indulgence, decides to intervene, setting aside her botanical interests to address the child's distress. Drawing on her natural inclination to assist, she encounters the young lad, Benny, in a state of sheer panic, fueled by a terrifying account of an attack on his mother by an ominous figure. Exhibiting a calm demeanor amidst the chaos, Zoe prioritizes the child's safety, directing him to the sanctuary of the florist's shop with the promise of cake and momentarily stepping into the role of protector, embarking on a mission to locate the boy's mother.
As Zoe navigates the unsettling narrative spun by Benny, her encounter with the boy's mother unfolds a thread of fear, misunderstanding, and maternal instinct entwined with the supernatural secrecy permeating Haven. Despite Zoe's genuine intentions, her actions, seen through a lens of suspicion, breed conflict and highlight a generational divide marred by the complexities of trust in the face of hidden dangers. The mother's protective instincts overshadow her ability to recognize Zoe's benevolence, culminating in a hasty departure aimed at reuniting with her family, albeit with a lingering uneasy atmosphere. Meanwhile, Zoe, unfazed by the uncalled-for hostility, remains a pillar of compassion and resolve, her focus undeterred from ensuring the well-being of those around her, even as she attempts to unravel the enigmatic presence that set this chain of events into motion. As the day breaks, revealing the obscured contours of fear and misunderstanding, Zoe emerges as a testament to unwavering kindness in a world where shadows loom, reflecting the enduring spirit of humanity amidst the ever-present dance of light and darkness.
(Zoe's odd encounter(SRIakres):SRIakres)
[Fri Jun 21 2024]
In Fertile Valley Florists - Shop
When you step into this room you are greeted with a plethora of green that is a back drop for the various assorted flower arrangements set upon displays. The floor is made from a similar reddish brick that the walls are made from, and the window sills have a rustic kick with their off white wooden trim. Toward the center of the room is a wooden counter where customers can purchase their finds. Off in the southwestern corner of this front room, two cafe tables sit near the stained glass windows that fill the room with a rainbow of colors throughout the day as well as whenever the flash of headlights pass by on the street outside.
It is night, about 74F(23C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. There is a full moon.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
The pre-dawn air hangs heavy with the promise of a sweltering day to come, already as warm as most people could find comfort in. The florists seemed to have taken that in stock - opening their little cafe in the wee hours before the sunrise and catering to the poorly-slept elderly of Haven't sleepy township. It's not as if they'd get much business later in the day - people would be reluctant to leave their houses in the first place. Now, though, the sky has just barely begun to blush pink, out over the bayside horizon. It was the last of the quiet hours of the Old Quarter, before liveliness and bustle resumed.
This morning, however, was different.
A sharp cry pierces through the quiet, drawing attention to the narrow alleyway beside the florists shop. A young boy, no older than ten, bursts from the shadows, his face a mask of sheer terror. His hair's disheveled, and his fluffy pyjamas - plastered with Australian cartoon dogs - are stained with dirt from the alleys grimy pavement. He dashes onto the sidewalk, his wide eyes darting around frantically, but never fully turns his back to the petrol station behind him.
"Help! Somebody help! There's a... a monster!" he screams, his voice cracking with fear.
(fix)
The pre-dawn air hangs heavy with the promise of a sweltering day to come, already as warm as most people could find comfort in. The florists seemed to have taken that in stock - opening their little cafe in the wee hours before the sunrise and catering to the poorly-slept elderly of Haven's sleepy township. It's not as if they'd get much business later in the day - people would be reluctant to leave their houses in the first place. Now, though, the sky has just barely begun to blush pink, out over the bayside horizon. It was the last of the quiet hours of the Old Quarter, before liveliness and bustle resumed.
This morning, however, was different.
A sharp cry pierces through the quiet, drawing attention to the narrow alleyway beside the florist's shop. A young boy, no older than ten, bursts from the shadows, his face a mask of sheer terror. His hair's disheveled, and his fluffy pyjamas - plastered with Australian cartoon dogs - are stained with dirt from the alley's grimy pavement. He dashes onto the sidewalk, his wide eyes darting around frantically, but never fully turns his back to the petrol station behind him.
"Help! Somebody help! There's a... a monster!" he screams, his voice cracking with fear.
It's early, yes, but there's no better time for a nice cup of tea while settled amidst the aroma of flowers coming from the floral arrangements all over the little florists shop and tea room combination. Zoe is looking over the flowers, smelling most of them in turn and carefully adjusting a few where if they happen to be misplaced in their beautifully arranged bouquets while whoever's in charge of opening up the tea room gets to doing the baking, the aroma of freshly baked croissants beginning to waft over. That's the goal, eventually, once Zoe's had her fill of plants, one for herself and a couple to take home for her husband, since baking croissants from scratch is for people stronger and more willful than she is.
At least, that's the plan until the shrill scream is heard - Zoe may be old, but she's not quite hard of hearing yet, and she almost drops the flowers in her hand in her startlement. A click of her tongue, a sad little shake of her old lady head, and she places them back carefully before trundling out of the shop to see what the fuss is all about, catching sight of the boy nearby. "What's wrong, dear? Did you have a nightmare?" she questions, looking him over - is he out here in his pajamas? Oh dear. Hopefully he's wearing shoes.
No shoes, and it looks like he tripped and scuff his knee and foot in his flight. He books it for Zoe once he sees her, and gets himself behind her once he does, forcing her to turn away if she wants to focus on the kid. "A man made my mommy bleed," whimpers the young boy, who clutches tightly to Zoe's leg and peeks over her. He's old enough that he shouldn't be acting this way just from jumping at shadows; though there's no telling with kids. Most of them, though, would probably find this situation embarrassing. This kid looks like he's on the verge of wetting himself in fear.
"She was putting gas in the car," he whimpers, "And he walked up and bit her. I saw the blood, so I ran! But I think he was going to chase me... but I don't see him now."
The vampire's absence doesn't seem to reassure the kid - he's frantic, trying to whip his head up and down the street.
Oh dear, oh dear. Zoe shakes her head again, reaching out to reassuringly pat the boy on the back - there, there, you're all safe now, nothing to worry about. "I'll go find your mommy for you, dear," she reassures the young lad, glancing down at his feet in worry and then back towards the direction of the gas station, trying to figure out if she can spot anything through the nightmare or otherwise. "Do you want to come along? It's not safe without your shoes, though. You can wait in here, if you want. There's a nice lady at the tea room who can look after you until I find your mom. I'll tell her to give you some cake too, hmm?" It's obvious which choice Zoe would prefer, because she's already ushering the boy towards the Florists' as she says it, though it's up to him if he wants to push back and insist on joining her instead. If it's a vampire, it'll probably be easier not having to reveal a young boy to the supernatural world this early.
Incentive doesn't seem to be necessary, nor particularly well-absorbed - the kid slips inside the florists without much ushering, and barely seems to snag onto that offer of cake. He really /is/ scared, then. The gas station's not far, either - just a short walk up the road. Even Zoe's knees seem prepared for that short of a trip.
There are no screams or much commotion at all as she powers on, which isn't the speediest of affairs. Her husband might be more broken-down than Zoe, but getting around town on town does make his collection of walking sticks seem all the more reasonable. Then things come into view - a young woman, in her early thirties or so, seems to be frantically searching the gas station - probably for her missing son. She calls out "Benny!", but her voice is hoarse and muted with the recent bite. She doesn't seem to be even remotely concerned about that. She probably doesn't know it even happened.
Maybe Zoe really should get a walking stick for herself. That would add about ten years to her apparent age though, so maybe not on second thought. It's a matter that requires more deliberation in the future - for now, she's busy looking around the gas station for the woman and the vampire. Mostly the woman, though, who, it turns out, is quite easy to find.
"Are you looking for your son, dearie? He was running around without shoes, so I sent him off to wait at the florists." She eyes the woman's neck while she's speaking to discern the amount of damage, after a glance around - is the vampire anywhere nearby, still? She's not going to send her off alone regardless, though, so Zoe says, "I'll take you there, dear. Do you have a sore throat? They sell a wonderful chamomile tea there, it will help."
Well, the woman locks onto Zoe on the spot, so she's probably hit the nail right on the head. Her expression is more angry than appreciative, though: no wonder she'd not been able to find her son if some wild old lady whisked him off up the street! She begins to say something which is doubtlessly rather cross and Karenish, but her throat doesn't much like the tone of that, so she mostly just coughs, instead, then sighs. "Yes. I'll go get him. Please leave my kids alone." Weirdly defensive, but alright queen, go off - not like Zoe hadn't been quite comforting to the terrified child.
The vampire's not so easy to spot. It's possible he stepped into the nightmare to sneak away once his dirty deeds were done - stealth biters being held in such contempt by the supernatural community at large, but especially other vampires - but not noticing the kid in the first place was very sloppy work. Maybe they'd only just been turned. Maybe they were desperate before the sunrise. Hard to say without seeing them for herself - which she doesn't. Not here, anyway, nightmare or not.
Zoe may be old but she's not /wild/, thank you very much. She's also perceptive enough to notice that pluralization. "Kids? You have other children here? You should not leave them alone," she tells miss Karen, even if the latter certainly didn't ask for parenting advice. "And you should not let them run in the street without shoes. You will take his shoes with you, yes?" She fixes the woman with a pointed stare - be as defensive as you like, Zoe isn't about to let such shoeless misdeeds go without a word.
The vampire's out of sight and out of mind for now - Zoe's has decided she's going to see this family reunited back together and wearing shoes, if she has anything to say about it. The mother of the boy will simply have to be very rude to make Zoe back off at this point.
Defensive rudeness on the behalf of protecting one's children does seem to flow through the woman's veins - as much as her recently-diminished blood cells might - but she does glance towards one of the cars quite tellingly. A quick glance of Zoe's own would reveal a booster seat with a strapped up tot inside, also pyjama'd. Looks like they'd been driving through the night and stopped here to refuel. "He shouldn't have needed his shoes, because he should have been /in the car/," she bites out, then tosses her head in a fluster. It's clear she'd been considering just pushing past Zoe and heading up the street on her lonesome, but leaving her other child alone - with Zoe - is clearly not an option. So she heads over to the car to pluck up her younger child - a daughter, judging by the pink flannel - and heading inside to pay for her gas. Couldn't drive away without that, after all. There's still an obvious antsiness in her at this point, but she doesn't seem to have received Zoe's words well. There's certainly no measure of trust shone her way.
No good deed goes unpunished indeed - why's Zoe the one being shown distrust instead of whoever bit the woman?! The unfairness of it all is unbearable, but the old woman is nothing but wizened and used to uppity youngsters who think they know better even when they most certainly do not - and was she planning to leave her daughter alone in the car?! Tsk tsk tsk. Well, nothing to do but to follow her back down to the flower shop, and ensure the family is reunited again.
"You know how children are, always so eager to run around, so full of energy. Why, I'm sure you'll miss these days when they're all grown up." Zoe makes conversation while they walk, a little smile on her wrinkly face as though the other woman has been perfectly friendly and not antsy and defensive at all in her presence. Still, her steps are short and slow enough that the other woman can probably just rush over to the florists and leave Zoe in the dust, if she so desires. There's not a lot she could do about that except amble along at her own pace.
Zoe's kind-hearted doggedness does exceedingly little to endear her to the mother seeking a little distance, who probably is unaware of having been bitten, and who probably squarely lays the blame of her missing son at the older woman's feet. She's stopped responding, now, and just speedwalks into the car to settle her daughter back into the booster seat, then take off down Hart Avenue. It's true, Zoe didn't deserve that - but in a way, the mother shows a bit of wisdom in keeping well away from people she didn't understand. It'd hopefully keep her kids a little safer, too. Still, she does know where the mother is heading, and by the time she catches up to the family at the florist's shop, a scene has already unfolded. The mother is scolding her somewhat dazed, relaxed son, sitting at the table with a slice of cake, and the woman manning the counter seems to have a measure of concern on her face when Zoe reappears.
"That's her," the cashier informs the mother. "She lured him in here saying she'd buy him some cake."
Slow, even steps take her along the road, Zoe ambling along at a relaxed pace as though she's got not a care in the world, until she's at the flower shop once again. And then she's blinking at the scene unfolding, as though she's got no idea why the word 'lure' is being used for her - herding, maybe, at best? Lure, maybe not so much, right? She was only doing her part as a concerned citizen and definitely not luring any scared and panicked children anywhere. "Oh, you found the boy. Benny, is it?" she asks with a relieved smile, unconcerned with the scolding going on, before telling the woman behind the counter as though that's the only concern here, "I'll pay for the cake, yes, don't worry. Did you want some tea to go with your cake, dear?"
Benny's had a total mood shift since Zoe's departure, certainly. He doesn't look afraid or particularly likely to wet himself in the next few minutes. In fact, he doesn't look totally cogent at all; with all her experience, Zoe can recognise recently imprinted amnesia when she sees it. Still, he's not super happy for the telling-off he's receiving from his mother - for leaving the car, for getting his pyjamas so messy, for /trusting a stranger offering you cake, we just talked about stranger danger last week!/ The vampire would've needed to have stepped out of the nightmare to do it, but there's no sign of him, and the cashier doesn't seem to be in much of a flap - just a little wary. After all, Zoe visited here somewhat often, so this was hardly characteristic of her... And yet, you could never relax too much around people these days. Who knew what kind of behaviour people get up to when you're not there?
The mother whirls away from her chastised son and brandishes a finger at Zoe, barking out a hoarse, "Stay away from my kids! Stop following me!" She shifts her daughter up higher in her arms, then ushers her sheepish son out the front door, leaving Zoe with only the uneasy glances of the cashier for company. At least she's not getting kicked out. The cashier's uncomfortable, but there's room for doubt.
Presumably, that's a no to the offer of tea. Too bad.
Well, if the stealth biter vampire was aware enough to have cleared up the mess he made, Zoe can maybe live with some woman out there in the world thinking she's some sort of creep luring children over into flower shops to feed them cake. That doesn't sound too bad, compared to how bad it could have gone, and so Zoe is a little content to leave it there for the morning. Goodbye, Benny and Benny's mother, and may you not run into a vampire again.
And then, once the shop is cleared out, does Zoe turn back to the casher with a sigh and a little shake of her head. "Youngsters these days, letting children run around without shoes and then scolding them. Mothers should keep a closer eye on their children. Are the croissants ready yet, dearie? My husband does enjoy them so." May as well get everything she wanted to get so she can pay for it all together. She glances around for a second, then asks, "Was there someone else here, after I left?" That's not a creepy thing to ask, right? Because a vampire out there has got a good, proper scolding coming his way too, very soon, if Zoe manages to find him.
The cashier, a young woman with bright red hair tied back in a ponytail, looks up from behind the counter, her concerned expression fading into a mix of curiosity and mild confusion. "Oh, yes, the croissants just came out of the oven," she replies, gesturing to a tray of golden, flaky pastries cooling on a nearby rack. She pauses, considering Zoe's question. "There was a man who came in a bit earlier, but he left in a hurry. Didn't buy anything, just seemed to be looking for someone. Tall, dark hair, kind of intense." She shrugs. Nothing else to tell, as far as she's involved.
Through the glass doors, the mother's face can be seen - flushed with anger and lingering fear as she hurriedly ushers her children towards their car. Benny, looking dazed and subdued, trudges along beside her, his small shoulders slumped under the weight of both his mothers reprimands and the strange fog clouding his memory. His sister clings to their mothers side, sucking her thumb and watching the scene with wide, innocent eyes.
The mother glances back towards the florists shop, her expression a mix of defiance and paranoia, as if expecting Zoe to follow them out. She opens the back door of her car with one hand, shifting her daughters weight with the other, and motions for Benny to climb in. Get in and buckle up, she snaps, her voice tight with residual fear. Benny obediently clambers into his seat, fumbling with the seatbelt as his mother straps the toddler into her car seat.
Around them, the street begins to awaken with the early risers of the neighborhood, some pausing to look curiously at the commotion. The mothers sharp gaze dares anyone to ask questions as she finishes securing her children and closes the door with a decisive thud. She casts one final, wary look at the florists shop, then gets into the drivers seat. The engine roars to life, and with a quick, anxious glance at the rearview mirror, she pulls away from the curb, leaving the unsettling morning behind as quickly as she can.
The sun has risen. The vampire, most likely, has departed, and the dangers of the night are behind them. Zoe could relax, now. Her tea could probably use freshening up, though - it's gone cold.
As Zoe navigates the unsettling narrative spun by Benny, her encounter with the boy's mother unfolds a thread of fear, misunderstanding, and maternal instinct entwined with the supernatural secrecy permeating Haven. Despite Zoe's genuine intentions, her actions, seen through a lens of suspicion, breed conflict and highlight a generational divide marred by the complexities of trust in the face of hidden dangers. The mother's protective instincts overshadow her ability to recognize Zoe's benevolence, culminating in a hasty departure aimed at reuniting with her family, albeit with a lingering uneasy atmosphere. Meanwhile, Zoe, unfazed by the uncalled-for hostility, remains a pillar of compassion and resolve, her focus undeterred from ensuring the well-being of those around her, even as she attempts to unravel the enigmatic presence that set this chain of events into motion. As the day breaks, revealing the obscured contours of fear and misunderstanding, Zoe emerges as a testament to unwavering kindness in a world where shadows loom, reflecting the enduring spirit of humanity amidst the ever-present dance of light and darkness.
(Zoe's odd encounter(SRIakres):SRIakres)
[Fri Jun 21 2024]
In Fertile Valley Florists - Shop
When you step into this room you are greeted with a plethora of green that is a back drop for the various assorted flower arrangements set upon displays. The floor is made from a similar reddish brick that the walls are made from, and the window sills have a rustic kick with their off white wooden trim. Toward the center of the room is a wooden counter where customers can purchase their finds. Off in the southwestern corner of this front room, two cafe tables sit near the stained glass windows that fill the room with a rainbow of colors throughout the day as well as whenever the flash of headlights pass by on the street outside.
It is night, about 74F(23C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. There is a full moon.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
The pre-dawn air hangs heavy with the promise of a sweltering day to come, already as warm as most people could find comfort in. The florists seemed to have taken that in stock - opening their little cafe in the wee hours before the sunrise and catering to the poorly-slept elderly of Haven't sleepy township. It's not as if they'd get much business later in the day - people would be reluctant to leave their houses in the first place. Now, though, the sky has just barely begun to blush pink, out over the bayside horizon. It was the last of the quiet hours of the Old Quarter, before liveliness and bustle resumed.
This morning, however, was different.
A sharp cry pierces through the quiet, drawing attention to the narrow alleyway beside the florists shop. A young boy, no older than ten, bursts from the shadows, his face a mask of sheer terror. His hair's disheveled, and his fluffy pyjamas - plastered with Australian cartoon dogs - are stained with dirt from the alleys grimy pavement. He dashes onto the sidewalk, his wide eyes darting around frantically, but never fully turns his back to the petrol station behind him.
"Help! Somebody help! There's a... a monster!" he screams, his voice cracking with fear.
(fix)
The pre-dawn air hangs heavy with the promise of a sweltering day to come, already as warm as most people could find comfort in. The florists seemed to have taken that in stock - opening their little cafe in the wee hours before the sunrise and catering to the poorly-slept elderly of Haven's sleepy township. It's not as if they'd get much business later in the day - people would be reluctant to leave their houses in the first place. Now, though, the sky has just barely begun to blush pink, out over the bayside horizon. It was the last of the quiet hours of the Old Quarter, before liveliness and bustle resumed.
This morning, however, was different.
A sharp cry pierces through the quiet, drawing attention to the narrow alleyway beside the florist's shop. A young boy, no older than ten, bursts from the shadows, his face a mask of sheer terror. His hair's disheveled, and his fluffy pyjamas - plastered with Australian cartoon dogs - are stained with dirt from the alley's grimy pavement. He dashes onto the sidewalk, his wide eyes darting around frantically, but never fully turns his back to the petrol station behind him.
"Help! Somebody help! There's a... a monster!" he screams, his voice cracking with fear.
It's early, yes, but there's no better time for a nice cup of tea while settled amidst the aroma of flowers coming from the floral arrangements all over the little florists shop and tea room combination. Zoe is looking over the flowers, smelling most of them in turn and carefully adjusting a few where if they happen to be misplaced in their beautifully arranged bouquets while whoever's in charge of opening up the tea room gets to doing the baking, the aroma of freshly baked croissants beginning to waft over. That's the goal, eventually, once Zoe's had her fill of plants, one for herself and a couple to take home for her husband, since baking croissants from scratch is for people stronger and more willful than she is.
At least, that's the plan until the shrill scream is heard - Zoe may be old, but she's not quite hard of hearing yet, and she almost drops the flowers in her hand in her startlement. A click of her tongue, a sad little shake of her old lady head, and she places them back carefully before trundling out of the shop to see what the fuss is all about, catching sight of the boy nearby. "What's wrong, dear? Did you have a nightmare?" she questions, looking him over - is he out here in his pajamas? Oh dear. Hopefully he's wearing shoes.
No shoes, and it looks like he tripped and scuff his knee and foot in his flight. He books it for Zoe once he sees her, and gets himself behind her once he does, forcing her to turn away if she wants to focus on the kid. "A man made my mommy bleed," whimpers the young boy, who clutches tightly to Zoe's leg and peeks over her. He's old enough that he shouldn't be acting this way just from jumping at shadows; though there's no telling with kids. Most of them, though, would probably find this situation embarrassing. This kid looks like he's on the verge of wetting himself in fear.
"She was putting gas in the car," he whimpers, "And he walked up and bit her. I saw the blood, so I ran! But I think he was going to chase me... but I don't see him now."
The vampire's absence doesn't seem to reassure the kid - he's frantic, trying to whip his head up and down the street.
Oh dear, oh dear. Zoe shakes her head again, reaching out to reassuringly pat the boy on the back - there, there, you're all safe now, nothing to worry about. "I'll go find your mommy for you, dear," she reassures the young lad, glancing down at his feet in worry and then back towards the direction of the gas station, trying to figure out if she can spot anything through the nightmare or otherwise. "Do you want to come along? It's not safe without your shoes, though. You can wait in here, if you want. There's a nice lady at the tea room who can look after you until I find your mom. I'll tell her to give you some cake too, hmm?" It's obvious which choice Zoe would prefer, because she's already ushering the boy towards the Florists' as she says it, though it's up to him if he wants to push back and insist on joining her instead. If it's a vampire, it'll probably be easier not having to reveal a young boy to the supernatural world this early.
Incentive doesn't seem to be necessary, nor particularly well-absorbed - the kid slips inside the florists without much ushering, and barely seems to snag onto that offer of cake. He really /is/ scared, then. The gas station's not far, either - just a short walk up the road. Even Zoe's knees seem prepared for that short of a trip.
There are no screams or much commotion at all as she powers on, which isn't the speediest of affairs. Her husband might be more broken-down than Zoe, but getting around town on town does make his collection of walking sticks seem all the more reasonable. Then things come into view - a young woman, in her early thirties or so, seems to be frantically searching the gas station - probably for her missing son. She calls out "Benny!", but her voice is hoarse and muted with the recent bite. She doesn't seem to be even remotely concerned about that. She probably doesn't know it even happened.
Maybe Zoe really should get a walking stick for herself. That would add about ten years to her apparent age though, so maybe not on second thought. It's a matter that requires more deliberation in the future - for now, she's busy looking around the gas station for the woman and the vampire. Mostly the woman, though, who, it turns out, is quite easy to find.
"Are you looking for your son, dearie? He was running around without shoes, so I sent him off to wait at the florists." She eyes the woman's neck while she's speaking to discern the amount of damage, after a glance around - is the vampire anywhere nearby, still? She's not going to send her off alone regardless, though, so Zoe says, "I'll take you there, dear. Do you have a sore throat? They sell a wonderful chamomile tea there, it will help."
Well, the woman locks onto Zoe on the spot, so she's probably hit the nail right on the head. Her expression is more angry than appreciative, though: no wonder she'd not been able to find her son if some wild old lady whisked him off up the street! She begins to say something which is doubtlessly rather cross and Karenish, but her throat doesn't much like the tone of that, so she mostly just coughs, instead, then sighs. "Yes. I'll go get him. Please leave my kids alone." Weirdly defensive, but alright queen, go off - not like Zoe hadn't been quite comforting to the terrified child.
The vampire's not so easy to spot. It's possible he stepped into the nightmare to sneak away once his dirty deeds were done - stealth biters being held in such contempt by the supernatural community at large, but especially other vampires - but not noticing the kid in the first place was very sloppy work. Maybe they'd only just been turned. Maybe they were desperate before the sunrise. Hard to say without seeing them for herself - which she doesn't. Not here, anyway, nightmare or not.
Zoe may be old but she's not /wild/, thank you very much. She's also perceptive enough to notice that pluralization. "Kids? You have other children here? You should not leave them alone," she tells miss Karen, even if the latter certainly didn't ask for parenting advice. "And you should not let them run in the street without shoes. You will take his shoes with you, yes?" She fixes the woman with a pointed stare - be as defensive as you like, Zoe isn't about to let such shoeless misdeeds go without a word.
The vampire's out of sight and out of mind for now - Zoe's has decided she's going to see this family reunited back together and wearing shoes, if she has anything to say about it. The mother of the boy will simply have to be very rude to make Zoe back off at this point.
Defensive rudeness on the behalf of protecting one's children does seem to flow through the woman's veins - as much as her recently-diminished blood cells might - but she does glance towards one of the cars quite tellingly. A quick glance of Zoe's own would reveal a booster seat with a strapped up tot inside, also pyjama'd. Looks like they'd been driving through the night and stopped here to refuel. "He shouldn't have needed his shoes, because he should have been /in the car/," she bites out, then tosses her head in a fluster. It's clear she'd been considering just pushing past Zoe and heading up the street on her lonesome, but leaving her other child alone - with Zoe - is clearly not an option. So she heads over to the car to pluck up her younger child - a daughter, judging by the pink flannel - and heading inside to pay for her gas. Couldn't drive away without that, after all. There's still an obvious antsiness in her at this point, but she doesn't seem to have received Zoe's words well. There's certainly no measure of trust shone her way.
No good deed goes unpunished indeed - why's Zoe the one being shown distrust instead of whoever bit the woman?! The unfairness of it all is unbearable, but the old woman is nothing but wizened and used to uppity youngsters who think they know better even when they most certainly do not - and was she planning to leave her daughter alone in the car?! Tsk tsk tsk. Well, nothing to do but to follow her back down to the flower shop, and ensure the family is reunited again.
"You know how children are, always so eager to run around, so full of energy. Why, I'm sure you'll miss these days when they're all grown up." Zoe makes conversation while they walk, a little smile on her wrinkly face as though the other woman has been perfectly friendly and not antsy and defensive at all in her presence. Still, her steps are short and slow enough that the other woman can probably just rush over to the florists and leave Zoe in the dust, if she so desires. There's not a lot she could do about that except amble along at her own pace.
Zoe's kind-hearted doggedness does exceedingly little to endear her to the mother seeking a little distance, who probably is unaware of having been bitten, and who probably squarely lays the blame of her missing son at the older woman's feet. She's stopped responding, now, and just speedwalks into the car to settle her daughter back into the booster seat, then take off down Hart Avenue. It's true, Zoe didn't deserve that - but in a way, the mother shows a bit of wisdom in keeping well away from people she didn't understand. It'd hopefully keep her kids a little safer, too. Still, she does know where the mother is heading, and by the time she catches up to the family at the florist's shop, a scene has already unfolded. The mother is scolding her somewhat dazed, relaxed son, sitting at the table with a slice of cake, and the woman manning the counter seems to have a measure of concern on her face when Zoe reappears.
"That's her," the cashier informs the mother. "She lured him in here saying she'd buy him some cake."
Slow, even steps take her along the road, Zoe ambling along at a relaxed pace as though she's got not a care in the world, until she's at the flower shop once again. And then she's blinking at the scene unfolding, as though she's got no idea why the word 'lure' is being used for her - herding, maybe, at best? Lure, maybe not so much, right? She was only doing her part as a concerned citizen and definitely not luring any scared and panicked children anywhere. "Oh, you found the boy. Benny, is it?" she asks with a relieved smile, unconcerned with the scolding going on, before telling the woman behind the counter as though that's the only concern here, "I'll pay for the cake, yes, don't worry. Did you want some tea to go with your cake, dear?"
Benny's had a total mood shift since Zoe's departure, certainly. He doesn't look afraid or particularly likely to wet himself in the next few minutes. In fact, he doesn't look totally cogent at all; with all her experience, Zoe can recognise recently imprinted amnesia when she sees it. Still, he's not super happy for the telling-off he's receiving from his mother - for leaving the car, for getting his pyjamas so messy, for /trusting a stranger offering you cake, we just talked about stranger danger last week!/ The vampire would've needed to have stepped out of the nightmare to do it, but there's no sign of him, and the cashier doesn't seem to be in much of a flap - just a little wary. After all, Zoe visited here somewhat often, so this was hardly characteristic of her... And yet, you could never relax too much around people these days. Who knew what kind of behaviour people get up to when you're not there?
The mother whirls away from her chastised son and brandishes a finger at Zoe, barking out a hoarse, "Stay away from my kids! Stop following me!" She shifts her daughter up higher in her arms, then ushers her sheepish son out the front door, leaving Zoe with only the uneasy glances of the cashier for company. At least she's not getting kicked out. The cashier's uncomfortable, but there's room for doubt.
Presumably, that's a no to the offer of tea. Too bad.
Well, if the stealth biter vampire was aware enough to have cleared up the mess he made, Zoe can maybe live with some woman out there in the world thinking she's some sort of creep luring children over into flower shops to feed them cake. That doesn't sound too bad, compared to how bad it could have gone, and so Zoe is a little content to leave it there for the morning. Goodbye, Benny and Benny's mother, and may you not run into a vampire again.
And then, once the shop is cleared out, does Zoe turn back to the casher with a sigh and a little shake of her head. "Youngsters these days, letting children run around without shoes and then scolding them. Mothers should keep a closer eye on their children. Are the croissants ready yet, dearie? My husband does enjoy them so." May as well get everything she wanted to get so she can pay for it all together. She glances around for a second, then asks, "Was there someone else here, after I left?" That's not a creepy thing to ask, right? Because a vampire out there has got a good, proper scolding coming his way too, very soon, if Zoe manages to find him.
The cashier, a young woman with bright red hair tied back in a ponytail, looks up from behind the counter, her concerned expression fading into a mix of curiosity and mild confusion. "Oh, yes, the croissants just came out of the oven," she replies, gesturing to a tray of golden, flaky pastries cooling on a nearby rack. She pauses, considering Zoe's question. "There was a man who came in a bit earlier, but he left in a hurry. Didn't buy anything, just seemed to be looking for someone. Tall, dark hair, kind of intense." She shrugs. Nothing else to tell, as far as she's involved.
Through the glass doors, the mother's face can be seen - flushed with anger and lingering fear as she hurriedly ushers her children towards their car. Benny, looking dazed and subdued, trudges along beside her, his small shoulders slumped under the weight of both his mothers reprimands and the strange fog clouding his memory. His sister clings to their mothers side, sucking her thumb and watching the scene with wide, innocent eyes.
The mother glances back towards the florists shop, her expression a mix of defiance and paranoia, as if expecting Zoe to follow them out. She opens the back door of her car with one hand, shifting her daughters weight with the other, and motions for Benny to climb in. Get in and buckle up, she snaps, her voice tight with residual fear. Benny obediently clambers into his seat, fumbling with the seatbelt as his mother straps the toddler into her car seat.
Around them, the street begins to awaken with the early risers of the neighborhood, some pausing to look curiously at the commotion. The mothers sharp gaze dares anyone to ask questions as she finishes securing her children and closes the door with a decisive thud. She casts one final, wary look at the florists shop, then gets into the drivers seat. The engine roars to life, and with a quick, anxious glance at the rearview mirror, she pulls away from the curb, leaving the unsettling morning behind as quickly as she can.
The sun has risen. The vampire, most likely, has departed, and the dangers of the night are behind them. Zoe could relax, now. Her tea could probably use freshening up, though - it's gone cold.