Vasilisa’s Thursday morning odd encounter(Vasilisa)

Date: 2026-05-28 09:27

(Vasilisa’s Thursday morning odd encounter(Vasilisa):Vasilisa)

[Thu May 28 2026]

At Seabreeze Playground

It is morning, about 68F(20C) degrees, and there are clear skies. The mist is heaviest At Carnation and Woodcrest

(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who has run away from their previous master. Probably at least slightly mind controlled they’re likely confused and struggling with their decision. The characters need to either help them found a new life, or send them back to their owner.
)

Enjoying the cool morning air, Gryndir finds himself sprawled out on his back in the field near the Seabreeze Playground. He fishes a half smoked blunt from his pocket and lights it, taking a deep draw, all the while oblivious to any and all around. “Some good shit.” he coughs out with his left arm coming to rest behind his head.

the relative piece of the playground is cut by the wif of expensive colone, woodsmoke undercut with pine, and the rev of a sleek sports car. when the door opens, a n androgenous figure steps out, glancing firtively around. if looking closer, someone would notice that the figure, up close, is a man.

the relative piece of the playground is cut by the wif of expensive colone, woodsmoke undercut with pine, and the rev of a sleek sports car. when the door opens, a n androgenous figure steps out, glancing firtively around. if looking closer, Gryndir would notice that the figure, up close, is a man.

The new arrival is smelt before he’s actually seen and fully noticed by Gryndir. “Who wears that crap?” he wonders, more to himself than anything as he sits up, spliff still light and dangling from his lips. The man, of questionable manliness, gets a cursory look, though the mohawk rocking dude bro remains where he is for the moment. “Nice car, though. Probably cost someone an arm and or a leg.”

“It’s….” The figure glances around, firtively eyeing Gryndir. he leans against his sportscar, a hand drifting towards the pettals, as if serficing from something, before his gaze drops to Gryndir. “can I have one?” he asks, eyes drifting to Gryndir’s smoke. despite his presentation of a high-end himbo, his movements seem lethargic, spasms making his fingers twitch as if he were a puppet with its strings cut, or going through withdrawel.

“Don’t have an extra. Need to hit the head shop.” Gryndir relays towards the himbo in question as he gets to his feet. He languidly sways over towards the man, and his swanky car while drawing on his spliff only to flip it around and offer it to the guy, mentioning, “You’re not a cop, right? You gotta tell me if you’re a cop.”

“me, a cop? I’d never have that terrible fashion sense. Andr….” a shudder runs through the young man, as he leans in for a puff. “Andre Would’ve never dated me if I did.” he tilts his head, modeled bitemarks visible on the parts of his neck not concealed by his hair. “Are you hiding, too?” he asks, seemingly randomly, after the meriwana has worked its way through his system.

“Andre, eh? I don’t judge. Love doesn’t know gender, man.” Gryndir states after handing over the spliff with pure 80s dude bro energy, “Hiding? Me? Nah, man. I’m just taking in the everything. The sounds, smells, sights. The whole planet tells a story if you slow down and listen, man.”

Gryndir seems to pay no mind to the bite marks, or at least outwardly appears to not.

taking another puff, the himbo glances towards his car, looking torn, but as Gryndir meantions listening to the plannet, he turns to him, eyes wide with hope. he takes a 3rd puff, before tilting his head to the side, birdlike, and listening. “When I used to paint, I’d get inspiration from the stars, how beautiful were they….” his epiphony however, is interupted by the sounds of 2 students enthusiastically making out from behind a cherry tree. Whatever zen the man might have found, he flinches, hard, body going rigid.

Gryndir runs his fingers through his majestic mohwak a moment only to knock the other spliff he forgot about from behind his ear. “Oh, score. Good job brohawk!” he mentions, clearly speaking to his hair as he ruffles it. “You used to paint? That’s cool, man. Super zen. I never could get into painting. Tried to learn to play the guitar but I don’t have the hands for it.” he relates with a soft sigh while bending down to reclaim the fallen doobie snack. His gaze follows the himbos with a gray brow raising only for him to give a reassuring smile, prominent canines on full display, “Don’t sweat the love birds, man. They’re doing what the Gods designed. Circle of life and shit.” he mentions while languidly circling with a finger. He glances about briefly, looking for a spot to chill as he adds, “Come on. You look like you could use a flop and some sky watching.” And with that the dude bro turns and starts to wander off, meandering in his path while lighting the newly found spliff.

that, seems to crack something in the young man, as he laughs, rather breathlessly, before shooting one last glance to the sportscar behind him, with an unreadable expression. “You know what? if love and weed are what the gods designed?” he falls into step with Gryndir. “Then I choose weed. Weed never lies unlike love.” as the last words leave him, a full body shudder runs through his body. “Maybe, maybe weed gives better muses, too.”

Find a most bodacious spot, or just stopping due to being high and lazy, Gryndir just flops into the grass on his back and spares a glance towards the himbo. “Sounds like you are dealing with some heavy shit, man. Take a flop and let your mind wander.” he relates only to nod while chuckling heartily, “Yea, you’re not wrong there. All I smoke is the loud stuff. Not the stuff that makes you see sounds and taste colors but,” he gestures to himself, a full body motion, “Just lets you be. Ya know? All over chill. Just relaxed. The worries and stress are still there, diminished, but it lets you get away for a bit.” He considers something for a bit as he adds, “Names Gregory. My bros call me Gryn, though.” as he holds out a hand.

“Alfio.” the himbo offers, flopping down beside Gryndir. His gaze grows distant at the mention of heavy shit, quickly solved by the puff from his joint. “I’ll soon find the one that makes me see colors. but… but for now, this is more than enough.” he settles back, taking a deep inhale, willing his body to drop the hypervigelence evident in taught muscles.

Gryndir lets the silence ride, clearly noticing the heaviness Alfio is going through but being enough of a bro as to not pry. After some time, he breaks the silence, saying, “I might know a guy. There’s a head shop down on Market called Vapor Dreams. They’ve got some good stuff.” he explains while taking a hit from his spliff only to pass it, assuming Alfio’s is ashed already, “They have glass pieces, vapes. Hell, I think you can get some good sticky there too. That will definitely numb near anything.”

Gryndir says “And from where I’m laying, sounds like you could use some of that.“

discards the remainder of his joint, taking a puff from Gryndir’s before passing it back. “How could I say no to that?” the charm is reflexive, but he lets his head fall back against the grass. “But first.” he closes his eyes, letting the weed finally work it’s magic.

Gryndir tucks his own arm behind his head while enjoying the spliff as it’s returned. He lets the silence hang for a good time, allowing Alfio to mellow as long as he needs with his gaze drifting up towards the passing clouds.