\ Haven:Mist and Shadow Encounterlogs/Ashs Odd Encounter Sr Lucas 240922
Encounterlogs

Ashs Odd Encounter Sr Lucas 240922

In the intriguing narrative set within the ambiance of "You Wish Beauty," a beauty shop that overlooks Lynch Avenue and Haven Bay, Ash finds themselves inadvertently distancing from their group, captivated by the photography on display. This fascination, a product of their autism and ADHD, encapsulates their attention entirely, disconnecting them from their surroundings until the buzzing of their phone breaks through their reverie. Tasked by their faction, the Forged, they are to extract vital information from a suspected low-level vampire without violating the sacred laws of Sanctuary or breaching the global masquerade. Ash, with a mix of annoyance and dedication towards their mission, heads out to confront the vampire, manipulating the strands of fate to ensure a favorable outcome. Approaching the vampire, Jordan, in a nearby café under the guise of shared interests in a tactical RPG, Ash carefully navigates the conversation towards extracting the needed information.

As Ash expertly maneuvers through the social interaction, offering various incentives and cleverly veiling their intentions, they ultimately secure crucial details about the Vampire Court's plans, despite their initial reservations about lowering their sunglasses—a symbol of their identity and protection. Meanwhile, Crystal, another character grappling with an internal struggle, finds herself overwrought with an uncharacteristic and overwhelming wave of anger. What begins as a normal day, observing the flooding outside her apartment, quickly descends into an internal chaos that urges her towards violence and destruction. The narrative suggests Crystal is battling an angry spirit compelling her to act out, evidenced by her sudden violent impulses and the destruction of her calm, collected demeanor. The story explores themes of internal conflict, the impact of external forces on one's actions, and the delicate balance between our inner and outer worlds.
(Ash's odd encounter(SRLucas):SRLucas)

[Sat Sep 21 2024]

In You Wish Beauty
Expansive tinted bay windows give a view over Lynch avenue and Haven bay beyond that. The interior of the store is brightly light with clear white light, black and white photographs of local Haven celebrities line the black painted walls while the floors are polished white tile. Large mirrors are set into the walls in front of the various stations.

A semi-circular reception desk sits near the entrance, with You Wish Beauty emblazoned across the front of it.

On the southern wall is painted a large white door frame covered with poppies surrounding a door-sized mirror.

It is afternoon, about 68F(20C) degrees,

(Your target and their allies have been tasked with extracting a piece of information from a member of an opposing faction or subfaction but they cannot break the understanding to do so.
)
Ash looks over the photographs on the walls of the beauty shop, not realizing that they are moving apart from their friends, family, and new potential ally as they do. With their general autism and ADHD, it's normal, to them, for the sounds of others talking and moving to fade away as something catches their interest. And photography is one of those things, it seems. Their eyes track the black and white paintings with interest, looking for familiar faces, and *especially* for pictures of Swanns and Saltes... for whatever reasons.

That fading of the rest of the world around Ash comes naturally. All-consuming becomes the interest that directs their eye toward the artwork on display here, and certainly all but impossible to rip them from the reverie that draws them in. It's uncertain how long the buzzing or soft beeping of the phone that's nestled somewhere on their person. When it finally does garner the attention of Ash, it will be one of those things that has become almost a given. Messages have come in from their faction network; a small job like the many others they've no doubt had to endure over their time in this small little Hamlet.

Perhaps with a sigh or sense of resignation, when the messages are checked they will describe a low-level vampire that's been seen very close by. It's suspected that this person has information that could be useful for the Forged, so it's no surprise that the call coming in is one for investigation. They're suspected of knowing about an upcoming operation and some of the planning details behind it. Netting any of this information will prove more than adequete in helping to thwart their plans. Ash is tasked with acquiring this information without breaching any laws or decrees concerning Sanctuary, the Understanding, or generally upholding the world-wide masquerade.

Ash breaks from their reverie with evident reluctance - but if there's anything that they prioritize, it's work. They do look annoyed as they read the text - a fucking vampire. Why have they had to deal with so many vampires? They even still have a stake in their bag. They grumble, before calling out to the others, "I'll be back!" It seems that they are busy working on blooming, or helping others do so, anyways.

Ash heads out the door, moseying over to their painted scooter, giving Voltaire a loving pat before heading to the suggested address of this vamp. If they're lucky, they can just chat. If they're unlucky... well... you only break laws if you *get caught*, right? So... just in case, when they park, they reach out to the strings of fate, as they envision them. A pull here, a tuck there, give it a little twist... and there are more better paths than worse for their future to take. A blessing upon themself.

Getting up, they adjust their dress before making their way over, Hello Kitty phone held loosely in their hands. They at least *appear* confident in their saunter, a soft smile ready to be friendly.

A resturant, or cafe that's nearby seems to be the location destination for the Voltage Vespa that's carrying Ash on their way. Those small factors curl around the Faeborn as they manipulate those edge and tendrils of Luck and Fate to hopefully help things go in their favor. Pulling up in front of the eatery, it won't be hard to identify who their overall target is for two reasons. Firstly, the description provided isn't one that's easy to miss. Between pale skin, and an actively sallow appearance to their face even in the rainy sub-sections of Boston here there's not often many folks quite THAT pale. Dark clothing as is often the cliche for these types and an emo-style haircut that's sure to be as styled as it is out of fashion. Secondly, there's just not a whole hell of a lot of people out and about during this stormy weather in the first place! So of the maybe four people within the place, it won't be hard to single their target out at all.

Tucking whatever tools they decide on into their pockets and so on, Ash can take her time and determine how she wants to approach this. Luckily for them (?!) this situation at least presents an easy excuse for cold-starting social interaction.

Ash waltzes in with head held high, moving to the counter to order a muffin before moving to their target's table. They reach a hand out to them, saying, "Hey there! I'm Ashen, pleasure to meet you." On their finger is their sect symbol, the ring declaring to all in the know that they're part of the Forged Fortune. They slide into the seat, as if they'd been invited, before asking, "What might your name be? I heard that we should be friends, so I'd like to get to know you."

First reaction from the man that Ash approaches doesn't seem to be an immediate withdrawl, at the very least. A look of surprise comes across his face though, followed by something that's very natural in a town like this: A look of mild suspicion. Still, after a moment he does reach out to shake Ash's and making a quick flick gesture of his hand toward the empty seat still at his table. "Oh? Who said that?" The response is curt, but a moment of pause later he relents a little bit. "My name is Jordan. Same to you, I suppose." Well, Ash isn't a wolf or anything like that so there's no innate sense of dislike that comes over this guy of course, though one can never be too sure. He's sporting a small earring in one ear that bears the sigil of the Vampire COurt, though he can't be very important in the scheme of things or word of his presence in town would have been way more prominent. The messaging that came in mentioned a potential upcoming operation or work of some kind that he may have some information about, but how to get him to start gabbing about it? That's the challenge now.

Ash almost flinches at his name, Jordan, though the incomplete reaction is covered quickly by a nod and another, coy, smile. "Myhaven, of course. You came up on my recommendations, said we have things in common and should make friends." They chuckle before taking a bite of their muffin, chewing as they tip their head, considering the flavor. Brown fingers push back dreads as ashen as their name, the wooden and jewel beads on the ends clacking against their seat. "It's all a game, and we're just pawns. Buuuut, speaking of games, you play Nightmare Op Squads, right?"

Ash pulls something up their phone, then shows it to Jordan. To anyone looking over, it's a random autobattling tactical RPG, meant to be played on phones. But to the vamp, it's a list of upcoming operations. They smile, before adding, "I heard you're in the beta - you might have some tips for me? I can make it worth your while, of course. Games are a great icebreaker, no?"

Such a clever approach to the topic, seems to be the opinion of the vampire because he can't help but offer a wry-looking smirk as Ash shows them their phone. "Ahh, yeah I dabble in it sometimes. I'm not really your best beta tester type but I know people, I guess." He says this casually, kind of taking that lead on the double-speak from the person whose approached him. "Tips? What kind of tips are you looking for? I mean you know .. the builds have a lot of options when it comes to the farming. A lot of ways to approach success I suppose!" He smiles again, before tilting his head a bit and watching the eating of the muffin though he also seems a little bit distracted. Not by anything or anyone in the surrounding environment but rather just something on his mind perhaps.

Ash licks their lips of any crumbs before saying, "Well, there's this upcoming event, right? My clan really wants to win this one, so any insight on what's included would be great!" Their eyes wash over Jordan from behind their sunglasses - not checking him out, surely... but clearly taking him in. They don't make any threats - they've offered a carrot already, and don't see a need to push anything.

A little bit of time passes as the man sits back in silence for a time. A closer inspection notes things that you expect to see in a vampire. The lack of breathing that's so subtle but so noteable when looking for it. The pale skin, the lack of any real living smell and even the distinct opposite for those who have sharp noses this close. Now - when they do finally lean forward a bit they have a reserved expression now. "Well, that might be worth a little something, if you're looking to take advantage of some exploits eh?" He seems to be peddling for what they might get in return, now though Ash has broken through the barrier of making the offer. He hasn't immediately given a denial or turned a cold shoulder, so they know they've got the fanger on the hook, now.

Ash nods to Jordan with a smile, saying, "Exactly! You get what I mean, then?" They take another bite, chewing with evident, living delight before asking in a softer voice, "Though, of course, leaks are usually paid for. Cash? Grass? Or something else?" They smirk, letting him figure out what else they may offer as they tilt their head, neck casually bare of their dreads, a warm brown trunk. "Or I can just owe a favor - after all, it makes for a continuing relationship - and I can always use more friends. It's why I'm here, after all." They tilt their head back, smiling warmly at the man.

Ash's answer brings more consideration to the vampire's face. "That's an interesting take, for sure. And yeah I mean, what's it for if not for meeting new folks and new experiences, right?" That smile is for a moment more genuine than his previous expressions but that's quickly slipped away and turned back into something more neutral. For a little while longer, it seems that Ash has the time to sit back and let the man contemplate the offerings .. then the man is leaning forward and gesturing for them to shift their shades down from their eyes. "I might have something for you, I think." If Ash complies, several minutes will pass before they'll find themself blinking and finding themselves sitting there .. alone. In front of them is a slip of paper with severl bits of juicy information concerning what targets the Court are looking at as well as resource numbers and expected manpower deployments. A small pain against the side of their neck, that will soon fade almost as they're becoming aware of it. A little tired now, but a contact number's been included with the bit of information as well. Who knows?

OOC: Thank you for participating I will let you scedaddle out of here and get about your day! If you need a teleport please let me know!

Ash would not lower their sunglasses for a vamp, though. They'd smile softly, and offer to meet him another time - and they'd bring some delightful fae blood with them. They'd be fine with getting the information at that time as well, but they wear their sunglasses for a reason. It's not like they have a problem bleeding themself - let alone bringing in another offering. Their neck, however, they leave unmolested. Their blood comes from their wrists, which can be easily covered for the healing process.

Acceptable!

(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Crystal stands by the kitchen counter, staring out the window with the same old expression that's always on her face: Nothing. The flooding that's happening outside of the apartment complex is the main focal point of her attention for the gloomy looking woman. She's cupping her chin, forefinger pressed against the curve of her cheek, in the form of a contemplative statue.

Crystal sees nothing of much interest outside. It's a dreary day in Haven, and would be entirely unremarkable were it not for the flood waters. She does notice a few cars driving by, all heading further out of town. For some reason she can't quite put her finger on, she feels the faint stirrings of anger, an emotion she's not very used to feeling.

The finger playing along Crystal's cheek stirs, the first of signs of life from the inanimate statue she was taking the role on. Slowly, more parts ot the machine comes to life, her head turning, disregarding the wet going ons happening outside. No matter how long she's waited, the flooding hasn't ceased. She gives up on the lofty notion of staring the waters to death and turns her attention to more nothing. There's nothing here in the kitchen besides her and the implements. She stares down at herself, gritting her teeth as the pangs of anger start to rise in her psyche.

Strange thoughts begin to run through Crystal's mind. She hears the faint sounds of music coming from Brian's room, as he is clearly practicing with his bass, and like a flash of quicksilver, the thought flies through her mind, 'Kill him. Destroy that guitar. Smash the amp. Make it stop!' The thought is gone almost as fast as it came, but leaves in its place even more anger. Anger at Brian and that horrid noise he calls music. Anger at Winston. Anger at her job. Anger at her parents. And a desire to lash out, at someone, something... anything.

Crystal clenches her fists, each of her arms going rigid at her sides. Acting like a petulant young child that she was once over twenty years ago, she stomps her foot, her brows tensing to show a wash of emotion that's quite uncharacteristic for her. She has a singular track of mind to stomp through the hallway and berate whoever is playing music in the nearby bedroom, but after one step, stops, reaching for her brow. She clutches at her head, shutting her eyes.

Crystal turns suddenly and reaches for the flowers she's painstakingly arranged over a shelf, grabbing a vase and throwing it on the floor with a shattering of glass. The water, potting material and the flowers deposited like a sack of potatoes. Messier.

A sledgehammer, pounding at the walls of her reason and self-control. That's the closest Crystal could come to describing the sensation in her head at the moment. Anger. Anger. Anger. And each time she tries to think clearly, to figure out what is causing this, it just feels wrong. She doesn't want to know why she's angry. It really doesn't matter. All that matters is doing something about it. And there are so many ways to do that. All the knives and other implements in this very room would be helpful. *SMASH* The vase explodes into colorful shards, the water pooling across the floor like muddy blood. It's good. But it's not enough.