Maise’s Friday afternoon odd encounter(Avalon)
Date: 2026-01-30 14:34
(Maise’s Friday afternoon odd encounter(Avalon):Avalon)
[Fri Jan 30 2026]
In a living room with woven decor
This living room combines modern comfort with subtle island-inspired elements. Smooth hardwood flooring spans the space, and the walls are painted in soft sea-mist blue to echo the palette used throughout the home. Natural light flows in from adjoining rooms, and gentle overhead lighting provides illumination in the evenings. A low-profile sofa and a pair of wooden armchairs create a central seating area, arranged for easy conversation and relaxation. Subtle woven accents appear throughout the space, complemented by a television mounted on the southeastern wall and simple floating shelves that display small decorative items.
It is about 45F(7C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Church and Blackstone/span
Maise wishes she was clean. Can we ignore that..
(Your target and their allies stumble upon a ghost who is trapped in a time loop, reliving their final moments before a violent death. The ghost doesn’t realize they’re dead and becomes increasingly agitated as the loop progresses, potentially becoming dangerous to anyone nearby unless someone can help them break the cycle or move on.)
Maise can be clean, she probably took care of that before going to Inkwell’s. Though, unlike other days, the atmosphere in the coffee shop seems more charged than usual. There’s something in the air that makes it feel heavier, as if reality was just a tiny bit denser around this particular shop.
Colors also seem drained from everything, as if it was colder, or some sort of faint blueish filter had been applied to all that’s around, in a sense it’s almost like in a film, despite how real everything looks. In the middle of this odd circumstance, Maise can probably spot the cause of this disturbance to normality. Sitting on one of the tables, as if chatting with someone that isn’t there, there’s a woman in the same faint blue tones that taint the enviroment, almost translucent, something that anyone would immediately classify as a ghost.
But this ghost doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Maise at first, she seems to be in the middle of some talk with someone that currently isn’t there. Making a motion as if to grab a coffee mug and sip, but there’s nothing there to hold either.
Maise slows as she takes it in, that strange pressure in the air making her shoulders draw back a touch as if she just walked into colder weather. Her gaze drifts over the washed-out colors, the blue cast clinging to everything, before settling on the woman at the table. She tries not to startle or gasp. She has grown use to oddities around town. Instead, Maise pauses near the counter, fingers curling loosely around the strap of her bag, watching the empty-handed sip with a quiet, thoughtful tilt of her head.
After a beat, she steps closer, boots soft against the floor, her voice low and polite as if not to interrupt something delicate. “Hey there,” she offers gently, eyes meeting the ghostly figure without flinching. “Mind if I sit, or am I walkin in on a private conversation?”
“Oh, hey- Hrmm, well I’m kind of talking to-” Avalon the ghostly woman starts, but then she seems to flinch, staring with an expression of shock and nervousness towards the empty seat. It takes her a moment to catch her breath, if ghosts have breath that is, but the reaction is that of any other human. There’s a gulp, a light tremble to her arms that are tensing against the surface of the table, eyes wide and even hesitation when she tries and ask “What- Why? Now, don’t joke now…” There’s wavering in her voice, whatever softness it had whenever she addressed Maise is gone, and is instead replaced with a scared shakiness to it.
Of course, in the middle of this, the see-through specter seems to have completely lost sight of Maise, almost as if she wasn’t even visible right now, focused instead on something, that, ironically enough, is not visible to Maise herself. “But I’ve been… I’ve done everything…” She seems to plead now, in a coversation which those around can only hear half of. And without any warning, the sound of a gunshot spreads all across the room. Deafening in volume, louder than any real gun could achieve. Making ears ring and hurt. And the otherworldly blue person falls on top of the table, without any movement left to her.
Maise screams at the crack of the gunshot, the sound slamming through her hard enough that she flinches and instinctively ducks, one hand flying up to cover an ear as the other braces against the table. For a heartbeat she just stands there, breath caught, eyes wide. Then she looks back as the ghost collapses. Swallowing, Maise steps in closer despite the ringing, voice urgent and shaken as she leans toward the fallen specter, reaching out even if she isn’t sure her touch will matter.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” she murmurs, glancing around the room and then back down, her tone southern and warm. “I’m here. You’re not alone. Just stay with me, alright?”
Surprisingly enough, despite the loud sound- Nothing seems to be damaged in the coffee shop, this is likely of the same nature of the rest of the supernatural disturbance. By the time Maise goes back up to try and reassure the fallen ghost, nothing seems to have been changed, it has remained in place for a solid minute. And a couple seconds after Maise’s hand goes through the almost transparent, blue tinged sweater of the apparition, she seems to slowly straighten once more to her sitting position, lacking any marks from a bullet in her, almost as if she had just ducked for a moment to rest on the table.
It takes another pauses for this specter to even react, it’s almost robotic in the slow and procedural way it is reacting to things, but the moment she does, animation seems to return to her body, once more reacting like some living being. It’s first a glance towards Maise, completely ignoring the way in which one body is going through the other, she tells, trying to achieve the same sweet tone as before, though with a clear stain of nervousness to her tone, as if despite what looks like a reset, something had been left clinging “Oh uh, excuse me… I don’t think I know you, you might be getting me confused with someone else… And this is kind of a private conversation…”
Maise exhales, steadying herself, and eases a half-step back to give the woman space, shoulders softening as she takes in the reset expression. Her voice stays gentle, low, careful not to push. “Hey, that’s alright,” she says quietly, offering a small, apologetic smile. “I didnt mean to intrude. Just…thought you might’ve needed a moment there.”
She glances briefly at the empty seat, then back to the specter, before claiming it, “But, ya know, where I’m from in the South it’s rude to leave someone’s side without making sure they’re okay. Are you sure you’re okay Sugar?”
“Yeah, I said I’m fine…” The ghost replies. She didn’t say it, but she claims so anyways. There’s a mild expression of annoyance mixed with confusion, much what you’d expect of someone being approaches when talking to someone and finding this response, it seems whatever this ghostly figure is, is completely unaware of the circumstances, convinced she might just be going about her day in the middle of a conversation that Maise is intruding.
“Now can you just go…” But the string of voice that was growing more bothered seems to slowly lose strength and thin out towards the end, derailing as if the attention had been claimed by something else. And once more, her expression starts contorting into one of confusion and shock, wariness too. Her voice trembles and she seems to brace herself as she once more repeats, her eyes now once more on the empty seat “What- Why? Now, don’t joke now…” Just a tiny little pause as the same words from before are uttered, almost looping perfectly “But I’ve been… I’ve done everything…” And accompanied by that, a repeat.
The ear-shattering sound of a gunshot echoing all across the coffee shop. The body of the woman going down over the table, though this time it seems to come accompanied by a loud thumping sound that wasn’t there before. Not only the sound is new, along with the gun noise, the room seems to heat up an uncomfortable amount, almost like entering into a car that has been left for an hour or two under the direct sun.
Maise freezes as the words loop, recognition snapping into place a heartbeat before the gunshot tears through the shop again. She doesn’t scream but her hands white knuckle the table as the specter slams down with a heavier thump this time. Swallowing hard, Maise takes in the room as she waits for the loop to begin again. This isn’t random. It’s a memory. A moment stuck on repeat.
“What did you do?” She asks quietly, “Everything? Or not enough?”
And the loop resets, the woman going back up, the temperature changes, but not in the expected way. It doesn’t return back to normal, instead it drops to something incredibly cold, even more than the streets really, to the point one wouldn’t be surprised to see frost around, not that there’s any.
Much like last time, as Maise speaks, the blue figure tilts her head to stare at the woman as if she was interrupting something, but her expression is not as much of annoyance this time, but of nervousness. She still seems agitated and altered, despite the supposed reset of the loop, there’s clearly a part of the emotion that clings to her even while everything else goes back to square one. But taking a moment to adjust her voice, to try and shut down the quivering in it but not fully accomplishing it, she tells Maise “I… Excuse me- You’re not… I don’t think I know you, and I…” Followed by a nod towards the empty seat, something that would under normal circumstances be quite a clear sign, but that with an empty one- Well, not as much
Maise leans on the table, “I know you though, and you’re about to get hurt. What did you do?” She peers at the specter or through them? Both maybe? Her attention moves about the cafe, curious if there’s a part of the story she’s missing.
The rest of the cafe seems to be exactly the same as it was moments before, maybe with the exception that that blue filter that seemed to be applied to everything is getting stronger. What started as a light blue shading is now turning everything more glacial-looking and draining color from darker surfaces.
The ghostly woman though looks unnerved by what Maise tells her, pushing her chair backwards some and leaning a bit, as if ready to get up at any moment, sounding even more worried as she says “I… What do you know? You’re threatening me?” But there’s not much room for conversation anymore, as yet again, the eyes of the specter are directed towards and empty chair, this time though speech starts differently, urgent, almost desperate “I swear I didn’t te-” Before she stops and restarts, almost as if being overwritten on the spot, terror in her eyes “But I’ve been… I’ve done everything…”
Bang! Yet again, gunshot. The ghostly body falling limp against the chair, and then forward, forehead slamming against the table. For the first time, blood seems to splatter from the wound, visible only for a couple seconds right on the middle of her forehead before it’s obscured by the surface she’s lying on. Some of the blood though lands on Maise, and even through her clothes, she can feel an excruciating pain. It’s hot. Boiling hot. Like touching heated metal with unprotected skin, even if hers is, which is even more confusing as the room temperature seems to fall even lower.
Maise hisses as the burning splash hits her, jerking back with a sharp gasp “Okay. That’s new,” her eyes flick from the blood to the empty chair. She moves fast this time. Grabbing the empty chair, yanking it back and twisting it sideways, breaking the line between the specter and whatever she keeps seeing. There’s a pause, brief and full of anxiety as she waits for the reset, “You’re not talkin’ to him. You’re talkin’ to me.”
She presses a hand flat to the table “Who are you afraid of?”
When the loop resets next, the ghost seems to stand up from the chair on the spot, like someone jerking away from the bed in the middle of a nightmare. Her lithe chest heaving as if trying to catch her breath, and a expression of panic painted on her face. She doesn’t seem to answer Maise, once more, instead she mutters to herself “I’m not… This is not…”.
But her eyes are drawn towards the chair once more, even if it’s turned around, the line of sight being interrupted seems not to be doing anything in her favor, and with a scared expression, the ghost turns around and starts rushing towards the exit. But despite that, Maise, still close to the table, can still hear her voice coming from the now empty spot she was in before “What- Why? Now, don’t joke now…” As if spoken by the air itself, recorded in time and in that spot and repeated despite the specter moving for the exit while telling herself “I’m not… I’m not”
Maise whimpers, shoulders sagging as it sinks in that the chair isn’t empty to the specter at all, that she’s the one intruding on something she can’t see. Backing away a step, she glances around the cafe, panic creeping in as she searches for anyone, anything, that might react. No one does. Cups clink, conversations hum, life moves on like nothing’s wrong, “Help..” Maise says quietly, swallowing hard as she prepares for the gunshot.
Most people seem to have left by now, after all, the moment a supernatural anomaly starts and things like sound and temperature get out of control, anyone assumes coffee time is over. So it’s even hard to spot any of the staff, that might be hiding from the next hit, getting ready just as Maise is doing.
But at least someone seems to listen to her, one person in the staff, who seems to have been hiding under the counter, has caught her call for her and only half standing up he tells “Don’t bother, she’s dead, just leave and wait for it to pass”.
But whatever the man has said, it seems to make the ghostly figure stop before she reaches the door. Turning around dramatically to stare towards the counter and almost crying telling “I am not. I am not dead” At first it’s weak, half scared, clearly in negation. Then it’s louder, almost shrieking, the walls and ground of the establishment shuddering as she screams “I am not dead!”
And just a moment later… Bang! Anotehr gunshot. Louder than the previous, making the whole coffee shop get obscured by the shadows, taking away any sight that any of the present, including Maise, might have But more importantly, there’s a feeling of absolute pain at Maise’s forehead. It’s hot, it’s painful, it’s pushing into her head. She’s not only hearing the gunshot, she’s feeling the gunshot go into her head, the moment seemingly lasting forever until it comes out the back of her head.
A solid minute passes before the lights come back, and before that excruciating sensation ends. And as Maise regains her sight of the whole room, the light blue filter seems to be gone. The temperature is back to normal. There’s no ghost, there’s no blood. The air and the atmosphere seem back to their light selves. For now, it seems, the anomaly has ended.
Maise cries out as the pain detonates behind her eyes, hands flying to her forehead as she stumbles, knees nearly buckling beneath her. For that endless moment she’s nowhere and everywhere, breath torn from her chest, the echo of the gunshot still ringing inside her skull even after the sound itself is gone. When the pressure finally releases, she softly bursts into tears.
Shakily, she lifts her head. Color. Warmth. Normal sound. Her eyes scan the cafe in disbelief, landing on empty chairs, intact walls. But no ghost. No blood. Swallowing hard, she mutters to herself, “Yeah, you sure showed me.” She rises to her feet, gaze lingering on the spot where the specter had been. Whatever just happened, she felt it, and she wasn’t going to forget it.