Constance’s Monday afternoon odd encounter(Buck)

June 24, 2025

Date: 2025-06-23 16:54

(Constance’s Monday afternoon odd encounter(Buck):Buck)

[Mon Jun 23 2025]

An alleyway where reality doesn’t seem altogether correct
The field stretches wide beneath the open sky, its grass growing in uneven
patches between massive skeletal remains that jut from the earth like ancient
monuments. Enormous rib cages, some reaching twenty feet in height, create
natural archways across the landscape, their weathered bone surfaces pocked
and grooved by centuries of exposure. Mammoth tusks, yellowed and cracked,
curve upward from the soil at irregular intervals, while scattered vertebrae
the size of wagon wheels lie half-buried in the loam. The grass grows
thickest where the bones provide shelter from the wind, creating small
meadows of wildflowers and clover in the shadows of colossal skulls. Femurs
as thick as tree trunks rest at odd angles, some standing nearly vertical
where the earth has shifted over millennia. The pathways between these
ossified remains wind naturally, following the contours where rainwater has
carved channels around the denser bone deposits. Here and there, fragments of
creatures less easily identified emerge from the ground – spiral shells
larger than carriage wheels, segmented plates that might have been armor, and
peculiar formations that suggest anatomies unknown to modern science./span
It is afternoon, about 92F(33C) degrees, and there are clear skies. The mist is heaviest At High and Lake/span

(Your target falls into some of the subway tunnels only to realize there are other creatures down here in the dark with them.
)

The afternoon sun is hot, too hot on the pavement as it steams in the June heat. Buck had contacted someone after a whirlwind of a day. He was hot in the pursuit of something lucrative in a missing persons case. A text to Constance for backup of her muscle was given with a note that she would be compensated tacked on.

The afternoon sun is hot, too hot on the pavement as it steams in the June heat. Buck had contacted Constance after a whirlwind of a day. He was hot in the pursuit of something lucrative in a missing persons case. A text to Constance for backup of her muscle was given with a note that she would be compensated tacked on.

Giving a tip of his hat to Constance, Buck says, “Hey, got some leads on that Bayview case. I think I found some fur in an alleyway over by where we downed Jaxson Denvers. Gotta lead somewhere, right?”

Constance shrugs. “Maybe,” she murmurs, wincing as she heads in. “I might not be able to solo a skilled one, but some punk, any day,” she comments to Buck. “Dinosaur incident, still healing up. Should be fine later.”

gives a nod to Constance as he pats his own ribs, “I’m still healing from that Raptor we fought, and I just ran across some pale guys that beat me up as well. But the case goes on, doesn’t it? Here, we’re going to go down this alley by the casino and follow the trail. Keep your eyes peeled for blood and fur, or even shell casings from that masked guy we saw.”

Constance limps down the alleyway, vaguely glancing around for the ‘trail’ mentioned. She’s got night vision but never really practices at picking out details – that’s surely the job of BUCK RANSOM, PRIVATE EYE.

The bright day turns to some relief as they walk through the streets and into the more shaded alleyway. The Casino behind them is busy, and ways has some foot traffic, while the ever present parking lot shuffles cars in and out in time. The alley ahead is deserted, except for the splatters of blood from a fight before, a few shots in the dark and the empty tear gas canister left from the attack before.

Deeper in, as they advance behind some dumpsters and a couple of discarded cardboard boxes, it is spotted. The blood trail leads down into the sewers, the maintenance tunnels below the city.

“There it is.” Buck says as he holsters his revolver. “Well…shit. I didn’t think we’d have to get dirty on this job. How do you feel about sloshing around in the sewers?”

Constance sighs. “I have a shower at home. Should be fine. I don’t think I get sick?”, she wonders. “Not from normal ooze, anyway. I’d be more worried about you.” She adjusts her guns to be worn higher on her body, just in case.

The manhole cover is lifted, and set aside as the two of them peer down into the gaping hole into the darkness. “Well, I’ve got a headlamp, so let me see what I can see down here. Shouldn’t be much more than rainwater with all the rain we’ve had lately, right? I bet a werewolf like Jaxson stuck to the rainwater runoff and not the shit parts of the sewers with his sensitive nose.” The headlamp is affixed and then he starts to crawl down the maintenance ladder, the beam twisting to and fro as Constance can see his him shine the light all around to see where he will land. A small covering of mist roils through the lower tunnels quietly.

Constance nods. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”, she comments, suddenly far more enthusiastic about going down into the sewers. She moves to grab Buck and lift Buck up. “I’ll go first, for obvious reasons,” she states, before just hopping down the hole entirely.

In the middle of the tunnel, a murky stream flows. Various discarded things have found their way in it’s path. A few pieces of food, some trash. A few lumps of something unidentifiable that are better left unexamined. The ladder ends on a maintenance walkway that is rather dry if a little misty as Constance leaps down the hole. As she lands, the mist disperses in a cloud of dust below her, the massive woman’s weight thudding on the walkway as it echoes into the darkness. Her night vision is keen and she can see forward towards the north where some branches split off, while the water flows south towards the casino and then east towards the bay.

Having been physically put aside like a play doll, Buck grumps as he climbs down after her, his headlamp shining all around in the mist and he waves his hand in front of his face with a little cough at all the dust Constance has stirred up. “Okay, so…let’s see…If I was a werewolf, where would I be hiding?”

Constance says “I dunno, probably anywhere where my blood kept getting dropped?“

Constance seems to be focusing on looking atr the walls, for any sign of them having touched it or leaving blodstains.

gives a nod back to Constance as he crouches down, grimacing as he notices the mist, “Well this isn’t good.” he says as he looks up at the ceiling and the walls, observing everything with his headlamp as he runs his hand along the bottom of the walkway, stirring some mist with his fingers, “Do you think that the maintenance tunnels and the subway may have mist monsters in them?

A blood splatter is found, 20 yards north, in what seems to be a claw mark of someone who had clutched a wound and then steadied themselves against the wall. a partial footprint smeared a bloodspot leading west across a pipe and into the deeper darkness.

Constance responds, “Maybe,” before pointing at the bloody prints. “There, that way. This is PERFECT quarters for my shotgun,” she comments, “so I’m not too fussed either way.”

Narrowing his eyes as he looks for clues, Buck gives a nod to Constance as he meanders this way and that, looking over common paths as he says, “The Golden Sands Casino probably has a vault underground. A lot of places that way would either be watched or cut off. I bet we’re looking more north. East is the bay and west is more towards Amherst Cemetary.” he mulls over some thoughts as he pulls out his phone, looking up a map. “You know, Arcadia Park is just north of here. I wonder if they’re coming down from Northview.”

“Oh here. Look at this.” Buck says as he points to the blood smeared on the wall. “Someone got winged here, maybe in our fight. Maybe Jaxson had someone he was fighting.” he traces those steps around until he finds the other blood smear. “And here. Looks like it’s tracking northwest. Maybe Liberty Square Storage.”

Constance nods. “I know Iron Moon was focusing on Northview, so it’s probably a little safer for shifters in general. No one fucking cares about those storage facilities. Definitely broke into one of the units,” she bullshits.

Following the blood closer, they come upon more clues. A shredded piece of cloth, a ripped off tuft of fur. It seems as though whoever was taking this path was wounded from a fight.

In the quiet of their investigation, a wet slap is heard. Like the sickening suction of something flat and long. The steady stream in the middle of the walkways in the sewer churns slightly, as if something is disturbing it upstream, and some quiet gurgling echoes ahead in the darkness.

Constance rubs her chin as she levels her shottie with the other hand. “Could be a ghoul, could be a zombie, could be an eel man,” she comments. “Either way, nothing really survives getting its head blown off..”

Some wet pitter pats and some splashing start to grow closer as the gurgling noise seems to echo with another.

A higher pitch gurgle answers back, and then some wet slapping as webbed feet begin to track louder from the darkness towards them.

looks around, trying to find some cover, he whispers to Constance, “I think they heard us, or saw my light. Let’s set up an ambush here at this entryway. Couple of pipes we can hide behind.”

Constance nods, grinning at the prospect of oncoming violence. She kneels down behind a pipe. She is Very Fucking Big, but she isn’t wearing a light like Buck is.

There are certainly a few larger pipes in this thoroughfare to grant a little cover, but before them is the main tunnel towards the north, and a smaller one towards the west. The echoing of the noises is difficult to tell which way they are coming from up ahead.

Likewise, Buck ducks behind a pipe, keeping his flashlight on a bit farther from Constance as he realizes that he is the distraction.

Gurgling in communcation with each other, a small group of Frogmen splash out of the side tunnel, spears held in hand as they gurgle loudly, ready to hunt as three of them take aim at Buck and one of them looses a spear!

The spear hits the pipe in front of him as he ducks down behind it, headlamp waving wildly as he keeps his head on a swivel, but that isn’t any issue for Constance as she has her part of the ambush to play.

*BLAM* W*BLAM* The shotgun rings out in the sewers, deafening everyone around without ear protection as the echos are heard reverberating up and down the tunnels. One in the head and one in the chest to the closest one, who gurgles out in surprise and is cut off silent with the righteous fire of Smith and Wesson! The other two are surprised but recover quickly as they clambor wetly towards Constance, spears glinting in the light as they attempt to skewer her.

Constance lifts her halberd with her other hand, effortlessly bearing her myriad of huge weapons, ready to fight.

Firing off his revolver, Buck/span peeks from behind his pipe and wings one of them in the arm. “Shit, shit! We got fucking Frogmen in the sewers.”

Between the two of them, they’re able to get a few good stabs at Constance, but her halberd is keeping the worst of it at bay. Minor scratches and a few scrapes as the two of them gurgle loudly at her, attempting to pierce her armor and have a very large meal for dinner.

Constance snarls and suddenly bursts out with her magnokinetic power, trying to push the spears aside so that she can give a sweeping blow to each frogman.

Duly surprised by something they have never seen before, the Frogmen’s spears suddenly slip from their wet fingers and clatter into the water. One of them takes out a small primitive knife as the other one turns to run, but not soon enough, as Constance starts to swing her massive halberd to make herself some froglegs.

Weaponless and surpised, Constance is able to behead the two Frogmen, making a bloody slaughterhouse of the tunnel in front of them as the flowing rainwater basin in the middle of the floor begins to run crimson with their blood. “Aah, shit. We’re not going to find any clues to track with this many body parts in the area. Holy shit, Connie, you just destroyed them.” Buck says as he reaches in his pocket to start reloading his pistol.

It seems as though the shotgun and the fight has awoken something deeper, as the sound of many gurgling voices is heard from both the side tunnel and not the main tunnel. “Fuck, maybe we should get out of here unless we want to become Frog Dinner.”

Constance comments, “It sounds like Frog Dinner might be what your werewolf ended up as, if he went down that way,” as she starts backing up.

Tracing his steps back, Buck hops over a few pipes as he beats feet towards the ladder, “Yeah, and maybe there’s something deeper down there causing the sewer mists. It’s something to look into.” he notes as he reaches the ladder and starts climbing up.

Pouring out of the tunnels, the slip slap of the webbed feet keeps coming closer as Constance catches what looks to be a frogman in some sort of shamanistic robes and a staff emerges on the far end of the tunnel with a horde of frogmen.

“Come, my Tadpoles! We will fight them off from our lands, we will take back the waters that are ours!” it gurgles as slings fling rocks down the tunnels at Constance and Buck and a few spears are thrown but miss their mark.

Constance emits a sharp “Ow, fuck!”, as a rock hits her right on the Raptor Scarring. She jumps up past the manhole and moves to haul Buck up by the scruff of the coat, just like before.

“Fuck! Fuck! Climing as fast as I can!” Buck exclaims as he tries to reach for each of the rungs and then gets hauled bodily up the manhole cover until he falls with an “OOF!” onto the alley pavement, and scrambles for the manhole cover to slide it back into place.

Constance shoves the cover back over with her foot.

With a grinding -clunk-, the manhole cover slides back into place, and little -tinks- of rocks and spear heads clatter against the underside. As it settles, a small flash of magical runes glows before fading, and then all goes silent below.

Catching his breath, Buck closes his eyes as he sits there for a few moments, “Okay. Sewers have frogs. Yeah, didn’t put that on my bingo card for today.”

Constance says “Yeah, you heard me. I was calling eels.“

shakes his head as he gathers himself and picks himself up, reaching for a pocket to light a cigarette as he says, “Well, you were half right. They look like eels when they’re tadpoles. I guess we’ll find another way to track this guy, but thanks for helping, Connie. You’re the best.”

Constance huffs. “Bullshit. If I was the best we’d be down there tearing through them until we found the wolf,” she snorts.

Constance says “But…thanks. “

“Hey, we’ll get ’em next time, when we’re fully up to snuff, you know? I’ll bring a flamethrower and we’ll have barbeque.” Buck says with a grin.

Constance says “Nice. “

(Your target discovers a cursed object in an antique shop that begins warping reality around them, creating increasingly dangerous illusions until they can figure out how to break its hold.)

Camille says, OOCly, “It’s just like telling story. There’s no special code stuff you have to do :. Except now you can ’emit’ to spoof poses.“

(Ooc: I hope this sets the mood well, I’ll be going off the current room desk that is available)

Camille says, OOCly, “I didn’t see anything, do you post something?“

(Did but it turned… out nothing? trying again, I retyped it instead of copying and pasting)

A sunny day, maybe too sunny as the heat radiates from the window and naturally warms your room and strives off the coldness of the university’s constantly running ac unit. An uncomfortable forever shifting balance that bothers you more and more by the passing minute. Then suddenly- you feel- wronged. As if something had been set out of place, or someone was watching you, that urge and primal feeling as if you’re being stared at which some throw off as just paranoia, even as you feel the eyes burning into the back of your skull from afar.

There’s a little hunch of Camille’s shoulders as Camille feels the presence, but she doesn’t look up. Instead, for a moment, her eyes close. The moment passes and she opens her eyes, going about her business as sweat starts to form on her forehead from the heat. She doesn’t otherwise react to it though, writing in her journal as if nothing at all is wrong.

But as she pretends to be unaware, blue eyes dart about the room as she tries to pick up some sense, some clue as to what might be happening.

Casually, she stands to stretch, a movement that seeming coincidentally takes her closer to the door.

Yet everything suddenly returns to normal. A trick of your mind as you continue on with your task. Maybe it was just a mistake you made, or your Luck had turned for the Worse. Yet with nothing happening immediately, the door seemed like the safest option until something spear headed the door from the side, the gnashing and splitting of wood as it a spike had emerged from the frame to claim the door and secure it in place. Yet non of the wood is lost from the door, whatever was there remains hidden.

And then, a shudder, Any desk, table, chair, bed, Everything was beginning to shift and vibrate in place as if something heavy had been moved or dragged. While nothing shook violently enough to tumble out of place several things were now noticeably opened. And then your nerves stand up. dread sets in. Your hairs stand on edge on your arms, some primal force triggers in your body almost recognizing the immense threat and possibility of harm towards you. And then a hum rings out, thick, deep, this time nothing vibrates or shudders but the gruffness can be recognized as if it came from someone or something old and curious.

‘`another’ can be heard whispered in the air from all about. Something had claimed its sites on you. Now was the time to think, anything new, anything bought or purchased recently.

‘38another‘ can be heard whispered in the air from all about. Something had claimed its sites on you. Now was the time to think, anything new, anything bought or purchased recently(fix).

With subtlty no longer proving viable, Camille darts to the door to try it, just to make sure, just to make certain she cannot escape. She rattles on the knob “Help, help.” she cries out in hopes that another might save her.

Stepping back from the door she does not wait, whirling about, her gaze searches the shared dorm room. Her roomate is gone. She reaches to her phone on instinct, perhaps hoping to call for help, though some part of her knows it would never arrive on time. “What do you want?” she asks.
line At the thought that something might be cursed, she begins to kick out of her new shoes.

Whispers fill the air ‘28Are you sure?’ They ask with curiosity. You were caught in a curses twisted game. Something wanted to toy with you. But if this was a game there was a way to win. The shoes looked normal, felt normal, No etchings or markings, no runes or glyphs.

`’328One… sits out of… place`’x They speak. The room slowly gets warmer, while not blistering or boiling even, it slowly begins to approach being uncomfortable with no signs of stopping. A hint to check things, a shoe rack, your dresser for any trinkets bits, bobs, watches, things you’d never quite… normally collect if you go looking in an antique shop to skip a buck or two on something niche or, well, something like these pumps.

Camille is breathing heavily as the heat increases, sweat gleaming on her brow as she hurriedly moves to search amongst first her belongings, then her roomate’s, looking for anything that might be out of place. She’s gasping now beneath the exertion, perhaps far more affected by the heat than normal. Finally she kneels beside the bed, reaching beneath it, panting now for breath as long indigo hair falls wetly before her eyes.

“Please, I’ll return it, what you seek. I did not take it on purpose.” she beseaches, perhaps not yet understanding she’s been made a plaything of.

Nothing changes, yet the feeling of Dread` grows …. more calm? As if you were further from the source by heading towards your bed. Not shoe’s or things you’d hide from a room mate if you trusted them.

A deep chortle fills the air, male, what would a male and a female both easily wear without anyone laughing at them? A good question, a fair question that seeps into the mind with no whispers to close the gap as the heat painfully slowly increases to be a bit more uncomfortable. Almost as if it adjusted to your limits.

Deep slow breaths… calm breaths. A game can always be won.

Nothing changes, yet the feeling of Dread grows …. more calm? As if you were further from the source by heading towards your bed. Not shoe’s or things you’d hide from a room mate if you trusted them.

Deep slow breaths… calm breaths. A game can always be won.

(Ooc: fix)

Calling upon her burgeoning knowledge of this strange Earth, Camille searches her mind for a garment or item she has seen both men and women wear. A ring upon the finger to tie the bonds of romance and comittment, worn often one by man, and one by woman. Yet women favor rings; would this tip the scales?

It’s so hot today, so hot here, she can barely think, barely breath. “Please…” she whispers “I’ll find it.” She searches first for a ring, seeking out a jewelry box.

Digging faster and faster, hands almost stabbing on earring ping and… maybe a loose needle came close, yet nothing was injured as you found it. That one ring from your last look around the antique store. It was a special ring, One you could not loosen the bond of. Two rings had joined together to max one in harmony, twisting together and locking if one of the two lovers were ever lost, the tag had even said both were machines to have a fingernail or hair or something of each of them. Yet at the time you had not believed that to be true.

Another look, a deeper look, the heat rose slower and yet did not stop. As you looked closer on the inside you could see two names and a symbol formed by the two interlocking pieces… break it.

Whispered softly as sweat drips from her and her eyelids flutter “I’m sorry. You leave me no choice.” she murmurs as she digs a sharpened fingernail into the breakpoint and seeks first to twist, then pry. Whatever will part these two pieces. The lovers split to save the damsel.

If pryed apart she wastes little time in looking for the piece of self they must have sacrificed to create the ring.

The heat causes Camille to become woozy and as she works furiously her torso begins to sway slowly, little by little as heat stroke seeps it’s way into her, though she seems unaware of how close she might be.

And then it fades, the summer heat suddenly turns cool with the breeze of the ocean. The door emits a loud creak as the spear retracts and the door is as it normally is, undisturbed and certainly not barred. The room cools quite fast being far more than comfortable considering the situation at hand.

Now two things may lie on your mind…. what to do with this broken cursed item… and if that antique store takes refunds in a city such as New Haven. Which might vary on the shop owner being fae or human.
someone the end. Whatever was slowly seeking to burn away it’s little player had lost its own game.

In the end. Whatever was slowly seeking to burn away it’s little player had lost its own game.

(Now wonders how do I end/make sure you get rewarded)

Camille says, OOCly, “The reward is automatic if there is one, and ending the encounter is just about leaving the area by the down exit. Good job! You’re a great writer :“

(Thank you, quite literally my first time running an encounter or even SRing at all! <3 Hope it was liked a bit at least, see you in the future possibly)