Seraphina’s Saturday afternoon odd encounter(Shiloh)
Date: 2025-06-28 15:06
(Seraphina’s Saturday afternoon odd encounter(Shiloh):Shiloh)
[Sat Jun 28 2025]
In the parlor of an old brownstone
The brownstone’s parlor is dim and richly appointed, a room that seems to hold its breath. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crowd the walls, crammed with ancient tomes in cracked leather and odd volumes with no visible titles. A threadbare velvet settee and two mismatched armchairs cluster near the cold hearth, above which hangs a brooding oil portrait of an unsmiling ancestor. Lamps with yellowed shades cast pools of amber light, leaving the corners in comfortable shadow. Strange objects rest on every surface: an obsidian mirror, a bundle of dried herbs tied with red thread, a bowl of river stones etched with runes, each placed with the care of someone who knows exactly what not to disturb. The scent of old smoke, lavender, and book mold hangs in the air like memory.
An archway to the north opens up into the kitchen, while to the east is the entry hall and stairs.
It is about 60/span>15C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Hawthorn and Sidney/span>/spanSitting in a well-loved and worn wingback armchair, Seraphina has a book spread out open her lap, untouched, as the woman appears to be starting to doze, her lids heavy with the possibility.
(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who has been discarded by their previous owner, likely mind controlled into complete devotion the thrall wants nothing more than to return. It is up to the characters to either help them return, or stop them from doing so.
)
As Seraphina’s lids begin to grow heavy at the behest of the sandman’s call, suddenly there’s a loud banging at her door. BANG BANG BANG! A pause. BANG BANG BANG! Almost rhythmic in it’s desperation.
Seraphina’s eyes widen at the sudden BANG to the front door. It causes her to jump from her seat, the book she had been trying to read falling in a soft ruffle of papers. She doesn’t bother to pick it up, instead, she heads to the front door, opening it up given the urgency in which the knocks had come. But she is smart enough to at least only open a crack to see outside, for whatever that is worth.
As soon as that door is opened, even just a little bit, the head of a man tries earnestly to poke through, eyes wide with desperation. His skin, weathered by the wind and tanned by the sun, leathery and cracked. His rugged complexion matched with patches of unshaven facial, disheveled would be a generous way to describe him. “Please take me back! I’ll be good, I promise!” He blurts out as the door cracks open until Seraphina comes into view. He stutters a bit, stepping back from the door “Who are you?! You aren’t her!”
As soon as that door is opened, even just a little bit, the head of a man tries earnestly to poke through, eyes wide with desperation. His skin, weathered by the wind and tanned by the sun, leathery and cracked. His rugged complexion matched with patches of unshaven facial hair, disheveled would be a generous way to describe him. “Please take me back! I’ll be good, I promise!” He blurts out as the door cracks open until Seraphina comes into view. He stutters a bit, stepping back from the door “Who are you?! You aren’t her!” *fixed
Since the man has poked his head in through what he is able, Seraphina isn’t just going to try to slam the door on it, even though at first, she had started to close it. “I … take you back?” She asks. “I don’t even know who you are!” He just as much says so, too. “No, No. I don’t think I am -her-. Maybe you have the wrong door. These old brownstones, they all look alike from the outside.” She smiles that Southern hospitality smile to the disheveled man.”
takes a moment to process the situation, gaze flicking about his surroundings, double-checking, triple-checking. Then that wide-eyed desperation is back and he launches himself at the door once again, shaking the wooden structure with his weight “No! Please! You have to help me! Sh-She- She used to live here! I would never forget, I can’t, I can’t!” He stammers out, “My master used to live here! She cast me aside and I’ve traveled -so- far to return to her side once again! PLEASE!” He begs, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, his face is contorted in agony, as if just speaking of his master’s departure had torn open an old wound.
He takes a moment to process the situation, gaze flicking about his surroundings, double-checking, triple-checking. Then that wide-eyed desperation is back and he launches himself at the door once again, shaking the wooden structure with his weight “No! Please! You have to help me! Sh-She- She used to live here! I would never forget, I can’t, I can’t!” He stammers out, “My master used to live here! She cast me aside and I’ve traveled -so- far to return to her side once again! PLEASE!” He begs, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, his face is contorted in agony, as if just speaking of his master’s departure had torn open an old wound.
It is a good thing that Seraphina is a sympathetic, empathic person, because she could have simply tried to, once again, close the door on the man. She holds onto the door itself that when he launches himself at it, so that it does not quite budge at the man’s lunacy. “Sir.. there is no one who lives here but me, and Mister Hale. I do not know who may have lived here prior, I’m sorry to say…” But though she is sorry to say, she does step aside so that the man can enter the abode. “I do think you have the wrong home, but you are welcome to take a look around. Perhaps there is something, if you do have the right house, of hers I would be willing to part with.”
The crazed man falters for a moment when Seraphina opens the door, but only a moment, as he barrels in, eyes searching for his master who is no longer there, as if she would suddenly appear once he stepped foot in the house. The fact that she did not hits him like a brick, a sudden wave of depression taking over as he slumps against the nearest wall. “I’ve traveled over state lines on foot… I’ve searched for so long… And master is not here…” His gaze seems vacant now, without a purpose, he’s reached his long awaited goal but it has not bared fruit. “If I cannot be of use to my master, I am better dead.” He decides, letting his words settle in the room.
There is a sidestep so that Seraphina is not simply barrelled into by the man. “Sir, I understand that you are frantic, but you are taking advantage of my hospitality here.” She approaches the man, now slumped and depressed, “There, there,” she says, laying a slender hand upon his should and patting it, rather than grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and tossing him out. “All is not lost. You are in New Haven now, where life is full of new beginnings!”
“What I mean is that, there’s no better place or time to start over.” Seraphina amends. “I believe in fate and I believe that this is where you are meant to be. Without her.”
The man shakes his head slowly, an obsession that isn’t so easily lost, “If I can not be with my master, then there is no point.” He exhales a heavy sigh that carries the weight of his journeys, “You don’t understand. I can’t escape her, when I sleep, when I wake, eat, anything I do- She is all I think about. I have to ensure I serve her well. Why did she leave me?” He looks up at Seraphina, pleading for her to just have the answers to all of his problems, “We met here in New Haven, years ago. She lived in this very house. She introduced me to a world I never knew existed, and made me her servant. I served her dutifully, I don’t know what I did wrong.” He pauses, eyes filling with hope suddenly “Maybe if I tell you what she looks like? You might recognize her?”
“I can try but …” Seraphina says, blowing some air out as she again gives the man’s shoulder a squeeze. “I haven’t been here long.” There is no hope there in her returned gaze, only soft pity and a desire to at least try to assist the forlorn servant. “What does she look like?”
“She’s as pale as the moon over a silver lake, her eyes a piercing blue. She has long black hair that she ties into a tight bun. She’s never caught outside during the day, and she always wears her white summer dress when she’s out, with her white silk gloves. She grew up in the south, so she has an accent. She’s truly magnificent, you would know if you’ve seen her.” He recites, the image of his master fresh in his mind, no mater how long he’s gone without her. “Do you know this woman? Her name is Abigail.”
Seraphina scratches her hair through her long, raven hair, telling the man, with her own smooth Southern song, “No, I am sorry…” She asks the dishelved figure, sucking in a breath, “How long has it actually been?”
drops his gaze to the floor as his hope is shattered before him, looking significantly older as the realization that he may never reunite with his master again finally sinks in, “Ten years…” He mutters, breath shaky, “I’ve been without my master for ten years. I’ve walked without pause, searching everywhere she might be. This was my final stop, where everything began. I guess that’s it then.” He closes his eyes, taking the moment in before he exhales a steady breath, resolution in his eyes, lit like a raging flame. He knows the next step, “Thank you for your time.” He says, beginning to rise.
He drops his gaze to the floor as his hope is shattered before him, looking significantly older as the realization that he may never reunite with his master again finally sinks in, “Ten years…” He mutters, breath shaky, “I’ve been without my master for ten years. I’ve walked without pause, searching everywhere she might be. This was my final stop, where everything began. I guess that’s it then.” He closes his eyes, taking the moment in before he exhales a steady breath, resolution in his eyes, lit like a raging flame. He knows the next step, “Thank you for your time.” He says, beginning to rise.
There is a sudden frown that causes Seraphina’s features to crease with concern. “Mister…” She pauses. She grabs hold of him to make him look at her. “You do not understand. Your life is now ready to -start- again.” Blood will not be on her hands! She reaches out to take his cheeks in her palms, earthen brown eyes search the man’s a moment. “forget her and restart your life,” is pleaded. It is not a forceful request; he is but a stranger who happened upon her own path, but perhaps the persuasion will take and it will lock. One can only hope it does not backfire. In many ways. Backlash against her. Ten years is a long time for one little planted request to take, or should it work, a literal restart of a life could be — a terrible sort of fifty first date loops. But there it is, and those words have been born into the universe.
As Seraphina grabs hold of the man and pleads with him, her words find resistance, it appears the man is already under a spell. Though, it’s a spell without upkeep. A ten year old promise. The man’s gaze softens and he becomes almost zombie-like as his eyes unfocus, the hypnosis unravelling the bonds of the past. And then he collapses, be it from psychic recourse or just plain exhaustion, the hypnosis seems to have been successful. But… now Seraphina just has an unconscious stranger in Mister Hale’s house. What now?
Seraphina isnt one to normally cuss, but there is a choice word just at the tip of her tongue, daring to spill out. She leans down to heft the unconcious, scraggly guy, up and over a shoulder. She carries the guy to an old, going threadbare velvet couch in the parlor she had started to doze within, and lays him out there. She tucks the man in with an antique-looking quilt, up to his chin. “Poor thing,” she murmurs. There are likely consequences to come but they will simply have to be dealt with as they come.