Encounterlogs
Eloras Odd Encounter Sr Crystal 241011
In the chilling ambiance of Haven's night, Elora, with her vibrant hair and enigmatic demeanor, encounters a panic-stricken young man, William, in the parking lot. Fleeing from what he claims to be a supernatural encounter with a werewolf, William, desperate and bewildered, seeks Elora's help, thrusting them both into a surreal chain of events. Despite his initial trust, twisting through Haven's shadowy streets, Elora's intentions unravel, revealing layers of complexity beneath her whimsical facade. Her interactions with William, laced with cryptic dialogues and elusive gestures, set the stage for a story that blurs the lines between illusion and reality, casting a spell over the progression of the night.
As the narrative unfolds, Elora's true nature and her mastery over the mystical come to light. Employing a concoction that muddles William's memories, she deftly navigates the fine line between aid and manipulation. Under the guise of offering help, she leads William down a path paved with revelations and enchantments that challenge his perception of the world around him. The journey culminates in an unforeseen destination, not to a haven of solace but to the stark confines of White Oak, where William's newfound reality promises a stark contrast to the freedom of the night before. This tale, ethereal yet grounded in the eerie essence of Haven, leaves a haunting resonance, echoing with the whims of fate and the intricate dance of predator and prey within the realms of the supernatural.
(Elora's odd encounter(SRCrystal):SRCrystal)
[Thu Oct 10 2024]
At a parking lot
It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a first quarter moon.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
It's getting colder and colder in Haven, and the sheer darkness in the parking lot probably doesn't help matters very much. Wherever this dark, foreboding parking lot is, it probably doesn't matter very much. We have Elora here, who might hear the scuffling of feet hitting the pavement, accompanied by the steady rhythm of someone's panicked panting. Depending on the sort of make that she is, she'd probably have heard this person's approach long before he, she, or someone in between's form was within eyesight. Their feet move erratically, the sure symptom of someone who has been moving in a panick.
Elora had been in a rather sour mood as she stalked out of the apartment complex where she had hoped to meet Ashen. Not for the first time, she had come to his door. Not for the first time, she had knocked. Not for the first time, had her knock gone unanswered.
Her brother himself had been down the street from her when she had first entered the complex. She glanced that way now as she left it to see if he still was.
Of course that was only part of what she attended to. She did have quite acute hearing. So she could hear the paniced person approaching before they arrived. She could see quite acutely as well, even, to an extent, in the dark. So as she looked away from her glance toward her brother and instead put her focus on the source of the panicked footsteps she did so with a measure of clarity that the one panicking might lack.
Not her brother, nor the person she was seeking, unfortunately. Upon getting closer towards Elora, the particulars of this person who has had the chance fortune (or misfortune) of stumbling upon the woman become more obvious. He has shaggy blonde hair, deep hazel eyes that look green when the light shines just right, and stands at a middling height just a handful of inches below the six foot mark. An oversized brown hoodie and some dark blue denim jeans make up his outfit, footwear not particularly outstanding. He looks pretty young, fresh faced and at this moment, scared out of his mind.
"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap," his panic stricken voice sounds out, nearly breathless. He stops just a few paces away from Elora, happy to do so and quite relieved to find someone else. He must be fleeing someone, or something."H-hey," he calls out to her, leaning down on his knees to catch his breath. "Call 911," he's already urging her. The need to call 911 rather than the Haven's Sheriff's Department might clue someone in that this is some out of towner rather than a local.
smiles a wide smile at the panicking man, perhaps its reassuring. She certainly doesn't have the look of a dangerous predator to someone who is not Aware. Blue and green dyed hair might seem playful. She's also a tiny thing, not particularly threatening, physically. "What should I tell them?" Elora asks, curiously, tilting her head slightly and standing with a stillness that isn't particularly in keeping with the man's panic - lacking in empathy, lacking in that quality of reaching out with care for his trouble.
Elora listens for anything chasing the man.
Calling the Sheriff's department is probably the right choice. Boring, but clearly the best choice when someone is besides themselves and in some trouble. It's not clear what this trouble could be though. Besides, doing the right thing is boring too. A few more short intakes of heavy breathing, and the young man pushes himself up to stand straighter, though it's clear he's running on adrenaline. Beads of sweat form over his brow, pretty hazel eyes staring back at Elora, comforted by her presence. She looks like a sensible sort, he's thinking to himself as he assesses her person. The guy looks like he'd be in the age range where he'd be out partying, trying to squeeze a girl's number at a college meet, or wasting a lot of time playing video games being an impressive procrastinator. College age.
"Yeah uh. There's this crazy ass lady that I met at Sludgefukk. Ugh." He groans, wiping at his face and shooting a bleak grimace at Elora, not very proud of the details. "She got pissed off because... nevermind. She fucking turned into a wolf, her bones and shit," he gestures animatedly, trying to use his arms to paint a thousand words into a picture. "Wait. I got a video of it, here," he starts fumbling around his hoodie, no doubt for a phone. "Her bones and crap were like cracking, and her skin was turning all stretched." He looks blazed out of his mind as well, but if he has some video evidence, that might spark alarm.
As of now, the only thing that Elora can probably hear is the guy before her being belligerent.
Elora peers at the video with curious interest as he pulls out his phone. She looks at the phone, then to the man asking her to call 911, then back to the phone, then back to the man. She can't quite keep the smile from actually reaching her eyes.
Elora considers the situation. A man, potentially under threat from a werewolf. Also, a potential danger to the Understanding with his video evidence.
Elora makes a noise of appreciation at the sight of the video. Feigning deeper interest she reaches for the phone and says, "Let me see that? Its harder to see when you're holding it. You should *give me your phone*."
"I know I sound crazy here lady..." Blondie with hazel eyes appends upon Elora, his nerves starting to calm, and with that some clarity. His eyes squint to fixate on the maiden, starting to note the vibrant colours about her person. In particular, her hair, which seems awfully entrancing to him. It's nothing out of the ordinary as far as he's concerned though, he's been to a rave or two and met others who were expressive with styling their hair, among other things. "But this shit's serious. Someone could get -hurt- !" He just about yells, starting to grow frantic again. He looks unharmed, but his mind probably took the brunt of the damage when allegedly saying or doing the wrong thing to a she-wolf.
At this point, he definitely could have tried to call law enforcement on his phone. He's pretty intent on showing Elora the proof though. Maybe he's seeking some consolation, or wants to make sure he's not batshit crazy and the video won't get him laughed at. The video shows pretty haphazard scene. The perspective is shaking and there's someone screaming -- it's him. There's growling and chuffing, definitely sounds like some angry beast. But the details are too hard to make out much. It's just the screaming like a little child while desperately trying to focus on a vaguely furred, large figure, and the video eventually cuts out, presumably that's when he started to book it. "Y-yeah, here," he says, handing his precious iPhone to to her. It's a damn iPhone 16 too. Expensive and precious. This guy seems to be having it good, other than his wolf problem. After he hands the device off, he blinks dumbly. "Oh right. We should fuckin' call 911."
Elora takes the phone with a little gusto, nabbing it as soon as she can. She doesn't pay much mind to the attention she's being given nor to the man's dating life.
"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Elora asks, feigning ignorance. "There isn't anything surprising to me here. Nothing crazy. Have you been doing drugs?"
He suddenly has a hankering to retrieve his expensive iPhone back from Elora, one shaking hand reaching out, and he himself has his suspicions about the angry she-wolf, half turning to check his six. Nothing on the prowl yet, as far as he's concerned. "C'mon. We gotta call 911 or something. Fuckin' animal control even." When his hazel eyes settle back on Elora, there's a pleading look in his eyes that screams 'You gotta believe me!' One step forward, he's stepping into her space. For his phone, of course. "I couldn't get a good view of it because it was gonna fuck me up or something. Bet that bitch has rabies," he mutters, souring up at the recollection still fresh in his mind. "Here, gimme my phone back, I'll pause the video at the spot wher eyou can CLEARLY see it," he insists.
Elora definitely doesn't give the phone back. Quite to the contrary she playfully pulls it away from any attempt to grab it. "I've got it," Elora reassures the man. "Just tell me where to pause it, okay?"
"H-hey...!" he exclaims, desperately reaching for that phone. Elora's good enough at keep away he doesn't get his way for now though. He scowls and folds his arms over his shoulders, paranoia tapping him on the shoulder once more to check behind him. No wolf. Yet. "Pause it like at five or six seconds," he instructs her, having gone through the footage a few times to get to that ballpark number. If Elora did try and check, it'd actually be at the eight second mark. The indicated timeframe would be him squealing like a pig trying it's damnedest to escape the butcher's blade. "Hurry up," he grouses, growing finicky. "She might still be out here, and she'd get us BOTH."
Hearing his worries for her safety "Just you," Elora reassures the man. Wait, is that supposed to be reassuring? "But you're right. Lets head for my van. Its just a little bit down the street. I didn't park in the parking lot." She never does, actually. Her junker of a van always get parked on the street. As she walks, she draws power through her as she can, trying to shape the illusion she wishes to cast. One swapping the image of the girl transformed with the girl as she had been before being transformed. On the stillness of that eight second, she readies herself. Its not really for his sake. Its for hers. She had done something similar before when using Illusory Mancing; done it quite often, but that was with people. It wasn't more subtle and more general illusions. So as subtle power crackled through her bramble throned collar and out into the world she was not quite sure if she was Shaping it correctly or if it would work at all.
Elora when cast, boldly shows the stopped moment to the man, holding out his own phone for him to see, but ready to pull it away at a moment's notice; if she had anything say about it he would be losing the phone tonight.
Grunting, blondie holds a hand up with a finger extended, chasing after Elora and his precious iPhone. "H-hey!" he stammers, stumbling after her. He's too fixated on Elora and the device she holds in her hands he doesn't notice the strange influence conducted around the collar. He just needs his phone back and for Elora to call law enforcement. Then when she turns on him with the video paused, he can only blink dumbly at what he sees. Squinting, he rubs at his eyes for take two, stares again, and makes a strangled noise. "What the fu-" he blurts out, eyes slanting to Elora's. "That's... that's not." His lower lips tremble, and it looks like the fellow might just burst into tears. Not yet though, his conviction on what he sw is strong, so he holds onto that lifeline for as long as he can, despite the evidence he had now proving the contrary. "Let me see my phone," he demands, otherwise ambling along with Elora towards the vehicle parked nearby. "You're probably doing it wrong!"
"You did drugs. You're seeing things that aren't there, too." Elora grins. She knows he is. She made sure of it. "I bet if I told you that there was a possessed fox in my van... you would see it. We can both agree that if you could see that, you would be crazy, right? So how about a little game? If you see a fox, after I've just only suggested that you might see one, then you'll get in the van and you'll let me hold onto your phone. But if you don't see a fox... then I'll agree to not only give you your phone back, but more then that, I'll let you touch me. I'll let you do whatever depraved things you want to me? How does that sound?" She walks backwards as she talks, letting the phone drop and the spell fade and her arms swing a bit. Her eyes are full of delightful mischief as she leads Idiot toward her van.
"No," he states firmly, but doubt riddles his psyche as he once more rubs at his eyes, trying to make things make sense. It's not working, a combination of his fears and the trauma of being chased by a beast was bad enough for his state of mind, but now there's an insidious cocktail being brewed with Elora's machinations. Illusions, the psychological tugging she manipulates with him. The phone not showing what he stated it should. Even though the first time he brought the video up, he could have sworn it showed that monstrous furred figure, hackles raised ready to tear everything apart. "Get the fuck out of here," he tells Elora, growing angrier, but taking the bait. He walks solidly by her, ready to prove there's no damn fox in this lady's van. The phone drops with a clatter, its case protecting it from the impact.
He doesn't care about that phone, or calling law enforcement. It's about showing Elora up now. Once he's neared the van, he waits expectantly for it to be opened. "Let's make a bet," he says, holding his hand up. "No fox, we call the police and get to safety, and you give me a kiss."
Elora says "Its a bet."
Elora opens the van door with a flourish, grin mischievous and wide as she looks up at the no doubt bigger man. Its one of those sliding doors. So as it opens, it slides. Then it CLUNKs. And there, in the van's back, is Envy.
The red fox stands before them, its sleek, russet fur marred by patches of unnatural gray, as though death itself has begun to claim it. Its once vibrant eyes are now hollow, sunken pits of darkness, betraying the malevolent spirit that lurks within. There is no trace of the fox's former cunning or playfulness; instead, a cold intelligence gleams in the abyss of its gaze, far older and far more dangerous than any mere animal.
The fox moves with eerie grace, every step measured, its paws silent on the ground despite itspredatory intent. Its tail, once bushy and full, now drags behind it like a tattered banner of decay. Occasionally, the tail twitches unnaturally, as though the spirit inside struggles to contain its wrath. A faint mist seems to rise from its fur, a chill in the air that follows wherever it goes, leaving frost-kissed grass in its wake.
When it snarls, the sound is low, gutturala rasping noise that echoes the spirit's hateful whispers. Its teeth, unnaturally sharp and too long for its mouth, gleam like polished bone. There is a predatory hunger in the way it watches you, a dark promise of violence restrained only by the thinnest thread of control. When it moves, it does so with predatory precision, never stumbling, never falteringa creature no longer bound by the limits of flesh but animated by the malevolence that drives it.
Elora nods to herself about something.
"Yeah," he goes on to agree, utterly confident things are gonna go his way. He's going to prove there's werewolves on the loose in Haven, save the day, become a hero, get a kiss from a lady with mesmerizing neon hued tresses, and maybe score a number. Peace of mind is within reach. He just needs to see the van door flung open and point out there's no damn fox and then he'll call this lady a kooky sort.
*CLUNK*
He peers into the van half consciously, because of course there'd be nothing in there. And he's probably not gonna get in if she asks, unless she insists it's for something he'd enjoy. A total sleaze, this one. His eyes grow wide open in disbelief when the fox that shouldn't exist slips right out. A strangled, pathetic noise burbles in his throat, and he steps back aghast. Snarling at him, he jumps backwards, falling on his eyes. "What the fuck?" he breathes aloud in disbelief, once more rubbing at his eyes. They're growing bloodshot from all that rubbing, doing him no good but making him look like the junkie that left one of Haven's seedier establishments. "W-what what... what the hell is going on!?" He cries aloud, grasping at his hair, tugging at the roots. He never established terms if he lost, because he knew he wasn't going to lose this bet.
And yet...
Elora tilts her head. She lilts out in her usual English accent, "You've lost." She can't keep from grinning as she says it, but she tries to hide the grin, looking down a little so that her tresses fall in front of her like a veil. It ins't enough of course. And then she starts to giggle. Its not a nice giggle. In the dark her turquoise and neon hair might seem less colorful and friendly. Especially with a fox as putrid as the one she keeps as pet beside her. That fox growls lightly even as she giggles. "You'se seeing things. Hearing them too." Again, the truth. These things are Real. Not like his Phone had been. She pockets his phone even as she giggles.
Elora has teal eyes that are shrouded in part behind her hair.
Elora hisses, "Look at me," her playful energy gone in a mercurial moment.
While Elora is grinning, SRCrystal is frowning. Distraught, horribly confused, and out of his mind. From fox to teal-eyed woman, he stares at the latter with daggers in his eyes. Disbelieving for a little while longer before the stare is blunted, resigned. Pushing himself up to his feet, he still retains a modicum of his pride. "You won, fine," he mumbles, clenching his fists. He's infuriated, but he can't take it on her, even if he tried. He's just some dude from out of town looking for an easy lay or five here in Haven, and Elora is something else entirely. She has a strange pull about her that he's unable to resist. Attractive, but there's more to her that he can't quite put his finger on. Only that he's intimidated by her. Swallowing hard, he tries to face the makings of the bargain solemnly and stoicly, yet the color in his face drains. He's got a bad feeling about this.
He steps towards her, eyes locked with hers, and suddenly all that anger and befuddlement is fading fast. He starts to adopt a more vacant expression as he meets those teal eyes. "I'm looking at you," he says in a monotone, completely hers.
"It ought to -seem- clear to you are this point that you are not mentally well. You came to me for help." Elora is not really helping, but it is a fact. He did come. "I'm here. And I'll be ensuring you get a treatment. There is a clinic. I plan to take you to it." Eventually. "So get in the van and -let me give you a treatment-" A syringe. One that steals away memories. Not that she wants him to see the syringe; definitely something to hide, as she can, under illusion. Tricks are much more fun when no one is quite sure how they are done.
Elora moves to the door without her earlier playfulness, eyes cold and apathetic. She opens the door. "In."
Elora opens the passenger seat door for... whatever his name is.
Yeah. "...yeah," he replies in a distant tone, eyes as wide as they can be as he stares into Elora's, enlightened in some way. It's simply just that mysterious pull and a pinch of her wiles that does him in now, sealed to her whims. He's moving to her like he was directed to, his life's purpose. Stepping inside, he's like a completely changed person. Seated at the passenger side for a ride, he is as complacent as he can be, but doesn't bother with strapping in. Practicing safety is boring after all. His iPhone still lies abandoned on the sidewalk, and it's true, he's never given his name to Elora. Now that he is essentially hers, it wouldn't be too difficult to extract it from him.
With her probing at his mental state, she'd find that there is no resistance there. The strong-willed man is mush as far as she's concerned. Obediently awaiting for the 'treatement' in store for her.
Elora takes a moment to put on the child safety lock for the door. She smiles up at the man as she does. Then she locks the door as well. "Seatbelt on," she cooes. Then she slams it, hard. CLANGing it shut. Next she moves to the next door and slides it shut with whrrrr and then Clunk, click as the latch inside catches.
Skipping, she prances her way around the van. Meanwhile, Envy, horrible little fox that he is, is likely growling. She gives the van a bit of a slap to tell the fox to quiet. Then she's fully back to her door. She opens it. But she's tiny. So she doesn't just hop in. Its more of a climb and a clamber before she's in her seat and pulling the door closed and buckling up herself. She can see while sitting in her seat, she has a view of the street out her window. Barely.
Elora starts driving for the goblin market, rather then the clinic.
Elora feels out for the energy of mystical links to the goblin market. The Sleepy Dragon has one as does Howl at the Moon. She heads for the Sleepy Dragon.
While Elora ensures to safeguard her newly acquired asset, it's quite unnecessary. That lock, and the door won't exist to him unless Elora dictates he'd need to be aware of it. Meaning if she says jump, he'ls going to jump. Otherwise, he's in it for the ride, patiently setting his hands over his lap, eyes on the road. The growls from behind don't even unnerve him anymore. The fox is Elora's, so he need not be concerned with it. Only if Elora dictates it to be.
On the contrary to the fae's thoughts, he thinks today is his lucky day. He's somehow gotten into the 'good' graces with a lady, and while he was told he'd get the help he'd need, he's still also himself, to a certain degree: His subconscious is telling him he'll get lucky tonight. She's a far better looking lady than that nasty wolf.
They pass the clinic, yet he doesn't seem bothered by that either. Eyes fixed on the road. "Thanks for helping me out," he turns his head to regard her with adoration, smiling at his savior. "...er. Sorry. What was your name again?"
Elora gently takes one hand from the wheel and taps her shirt. "I have a nametag," she offers, a smirk on her face. The nametag reads, *Katherine* in a childish scrawl as if written by someone who is not quite so great at writing letters.
Elora has a dress actually, regardless, she taps.
Elora says "What is yours?"
Elora gestures down herself, and so he allows his hazel eyes to rake down her form, lingering on her bust. The top of her breasts are out for display, so of course he has to stare. That's the way of the world. For greasy sleazeballs like himself. "Katherine," he breathes out, tone suggesting it might just be the most beautiful thing he's heard all name. It's a name that doesn't belong to something nasty and frothing at the maw, for one.
He swallows hard though when she prompts him about her name. For a few seconds, the leash that she has on his subconscious wanes. He sees her, and doesn't recognize her, and the fear grows in his mind. Then that leash is corrected, constricting around the throat of his mind. "William," he tells her.
Coincidence?
Elora asks, "William?"
Elora asks again, "Your name is William?"
"William," SRCrystal confirms with a steady nod, and then adds, "But everyone just calls me Bill." Could that give someone a certain sense of deja vu? "Why, Katherine?" he wonders, looking aside to her with a few blinks and a dopey smile. Again, his eyes linger down her throat. "Kat? Can I call you Kat?"
"I'm William," William confirms with a steady nod, and then adds, "But everyone just calls me Bill." Could that give someone a certain sense of deja vu? "Why, Katherine?" he wonders, looking aside to her with a few blinks and a dopey smile. Again, his eyes linger down her throat. "Kat? Can I call you Kat?" (fix)
Elora says "No! You may not call me Kat. You must call be Katherine. As for why, the nametag clearly reads Katherine, not Kat."
balks at that, hand at his cheek when she denies him that affectionate abbreviation of her name. Like he was reprimanded. It's a steady reminder that his place isn't quite as cozy as he'd think with her. He nods and nods some more, apologetic in his silence.
Elora keeps an eye out for stray werewolves that are hunting as she makes her way toward the Sleepy Dragon. William! As if she doesn't have her hands full with enough William's as it is!
Elora because it had rained earlier would have been driving on a road that has the potential for puddles. She would make a point, if possible, to drive over those puddles and make splashes. Not for any other reason than that she could.
William starts to hum an anxious little tune to himself, cognizant of the fact he might have stepped a little over some boundaries by asking Elora, or Katherine if he could call her by something else. "Yep... name's William. Will. I. Am." He almost sings out,far more interested in staring at Elora while the van pulls up near the Sleepy Dragon. "What's this place?" he asks her, leaning her way some.
Elora explains to WIlliam, "This is a place where people play games on glowing screens, dress properly while calling it 'cosplay'..." She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "And also they have a bar where they serve drinks and so on. They're quite tasty. I've tried them before." More importantly of course was that it had a connection to the goblin market - she could sense it. And she had a symbol to open the way as well. "I'm going to be a few minutes. I have something I need to do before I can get you your treatment. You will not follow. You will stay here."
She pauses. Then, she thinks to ask. "Did you kiss her? The girl you thought turned into a wolf?"
Sniffing quietly, William stares at Elora, listening intently. When she states she's going to go out, his hand reflexively moves for the handle to the passenger side, ready to join her until she specifically tells the hypnotized man that he has to stay here. Unable to hide the disappointment in his face, he nods his head regardless. "Alright. I'll wait right here," he promises, then starts, adding something /very/ important. To him. "I don't have condoms on me so uh. See if they have any. We could probably do it raw but like," he just makes a gesture afterwards, feeling it best not to dig too deep in the details. The man has his priorities, and it's a persistent reminder to Elora what sort of person she's dealing with, even if he is under her control to some degree.
Elora goes still staring at the man. Then she says, slowly, carefully. "People tell me that I should ask before I play with people. I should get permission. So... would you like to play with me?"
There is no hesitation whatsoever for William's response. "Yeah. I'd like to play with you, Kat," he tells her eagerly, raking in her form. "Er. Kat," he corrects himself, and with that out of the way, he reaches into his pockets, pulling out a breath freshener, popping a few mists in his mouth. He's totally got this in the bag. He thinks she's under his claws, when it's the other way around. It helps keep him under the spell she's cast on him at the very least.
Elora taps the nametag that reads Katherine as she gets out of the car, smile tight. Then she makes the return climb down from her seat and out of the van. She plops down into the rain soaked street. "His ankle, if he runs, Envy," she calls loud enough to be heard in the van by the spirit possessed fox's keen ears. Then she heads in. She intends to just head straight for the goblin market to make her potion, but who knows what could happen along the way.
Elora skips her way to make a potion.
"Katherine," SRCrystal finally blurts, making a mistake twice due to his head being in the gutter. He watches the maiden vacate the van, expression growing a touch morose. Does he already miss her? Then he has eyes for the fox, and he starts to become uncomfortable again, hand playing at the handle to the passenger door of the van. It might be separation anxiety going on there, but he's resigned to stay put and wait for Elora, under the scrutiny of that fox he swore wasn't real. But is. "I'll wait here," he states solemnly. After all, he thinks he's getting lucky tonight.
"K-Katherine," William finally blurts, making a mistake twice due to his head being in the gutter. He watches the maiden vacate the van, expression growing a touch morose. Does he already miss her? Then he has eyes for the fox, and he starts to become uncomfortable again, hand playing at the handle to the passenger door of the van. It might be separation anxiety going on there, but he's resigned to stay put and wait for Elora, under the scrutiny of that fox he swore wasn't real. But is. "I'll wait here," he states solemnly. After all, he thinks he's getting lucky tonight. (small correction)
"You will," Elora calls back, reassuringly.
Elora makes her way into the Sleepy Dragon - if its even open at this time of night. She hasn't ever checked before. But if its not she can just slip into the nightmare easily enough and come out through a mirror in the bathroom on her way to the market.
Haven is just one of those places that has a ton of 24/7 businiesses. It probably comes with being a small, sleepy town. While Elora busies herself with finalizing her scheme, William is makes do in the car how he can. He has his arms folded over his chest, staring at the strange fox unblinkingly. He's still trying to figure out what it's doing here, and if it's real. He finds some random bit of string and waves it in the fox's direction, trying to form some sort of bond, figuring that since they're both under Elora in some way they best play nice."C'mon c'mon... get the string buddy," he encourages.
Elora fox's was a malevolent spirit of envy. In particular, it had envied William of all things. The bond that he had his with his sister. The fact that he had the warmth of familial love. A spirit of envy; not a spirit of, you know - actually knowing what William and Elora had, relationship wise.
Continuing to wiggle the string between his fingers a little while longer, William eventually gives up trying to strike up some sort of accord with the fox. Not knowing it's a familiar and a spirit at that, he shifts in his seat and continues to wait impatiently. "Probably has rabies," he mutters. Every now and then he eyes the door, considering if he should go look for Elora. "Maybe she got lost. Maybe she needs my help. Maybe I should go find her," he poses to himself, worrying even though it hasn't even been ten minutes. He stays put in the end.
Elora heads past any patrons and uses her symbol to get into the stone passage in order to access the goblin market. She heads down the passage way making particular note of the passage that tends to lead to the abandoned pssych ward.
Elora works on a potion. One to take the memory of his last kiss. She gathers the ingredients and sets to work while William back in her van plays with the fox. Idly, if there is any time during the brewing where she has the freedom to, she goes through his phone and sees if there are any good opportunities for mischief. Surely there is something she can do to make his life a bit more interesting.
William has been staying put, but the enthrallment of hypnosis that he's under starts to grow weaker the longer he is separated from Elora. His mind starts racing to other things, things that were at first trivialities. While not a local of Haven, he does have some Sanctuary, which helps lift some of the fog, but the protection is ultimately limited. He takes deep, calming breaths, contemplating why he's here, what he should do, how he'd shake off the creepy fox. The hold of the spell reigns him in the moment his thoughts come back to Elora, uncouth in nature. That's what does him in and convinces him to stay put, and the hypnosis takes hold over his frail mind once more.
Elora would eventually finish up her potion and get it loaded into a syringe. Then she would make her way back out the way she came.
When Elora returns to someone and the fox in her van, he has his face pressed to the windows, searching for any sign on her whereabouts. The passing person draws some disappointment. This William was never the most patient of guys, yet the promise for a good time keeps him right where he is, fidgeting in his seat. Hands search his pockets, and then he realizes something.
"Shit. Where'd I leave my phone?" he asks aloud, eyes looking here and there.
Elora takes some time on the way back to repeatedly slam his phone against the stone wall, as one does. Then back in the tavern she tosses the wreckage into the trash.
Elora also paid for her potion!
Pressing his face against the passenger window of the van, searching for any sign on her whereabouts. The passing person draws some disappointment. This William was never the most patient of guys, yet the promise for a good time keeps him right where he is, fidgeting in his seat. Hands search his pockets, and then he realizes something.
"Shit. Where'd I leave my phone?" he asks aloud, eyes looking here and there. Clueless that his expensive iPhone was smashed to bits. "Come on Kat..." he gripes to himself, comfortable to call her that while she's away. Unless the fox is a dirty tattle tale.
Elora walks out with a spring in her step. She's a playful sort and so instead of just going out the way most people would - through the front door - she slips into the nightmare and goes past him unseeen and across the street. From the nearby Howl she comes out through a bathroom mirror. Then and only then does she sneak her way back around the van coming as she can from its blindspot to try and avoid being seen.
Elora opens the van door and hops in.
Elora grins at William.
Completely thinking that Elora will return from the Sleepy Dragon, he's caught completely by surprise when she opens the door behind him. A startled yelp is followed by an anxious chuckle. "Heyyy, Kat. Katherine," he greets her in an odd tone, taken by her appearance momentarily. Ever to the point, he asks her, "Did you find protection?" He makes a crude gesture with a forefinger and a circle with a thumb and other forefinger, implying what he means by any protection.
Elora coos, "I got you your treatment, actually." She doesn't bother showing him the syringe. "You bet me a kiss and you lost. So you should lose a kiss too. I'm not sure which kiss. Stick out your arm, William. And close your eyes."
"My arm?" he repeats as a question, shooting Elora a queer look. He seems to be onto her, at least for a few seconds before he rolls his sleeves up, exposing his toned forearm, and further up even goes on to grace the woman nearby with the his bicep. It's pretty muscular, and he's clearly trying to impress her with his physique. Casually, he leans in close to her with his arm held for her, already bragging, "Yeah. I lift. It's no big deal." As instructed, he then shuts his eyes, unable to keep himself from smiling.
Elora would have no qualms about sticking William with the syringe and slamming the plunger down, assuming the man went along with her.
Elora stabs William with the memory removal potion, potentially stripping him of his memory of his last kiss.
Elora keeps an ear out for howling wolves.
"Alright, alright," William exhales, holding his arm out and with his eyes shut, turns his head, puckering up for a kiss that he's expecting. In a way, he does get a kiss, but it's a kiss from that syringe, jamming into his arm. He flexes it in turn, eyes opening in surprise. Whatever concoction that Elora's cooked up immediately works itself into his bloodstream while he stares at the syringe jammed into his arm in confusion. "Wh-" he wants to say, but the memory potion works quick, and his head lulls forward, the guy growing inert for a moment. He might have died right then and there, but acute senses would pick up his breathing, and even the rhythm of his heartbeat. It's face and frenzied, but in time fades into a sluggish staccato.
Elora tucks syringe away some place where it won't be seen. Then while William copes with his memory loss, she goes about getting buckled in. Pulling her seatbelt across her chest. -Clicking- it down into place. She pushes her keys in, twists. Gets the van sputtering back to life. Then she is looking back around and pulling away. The clinic, she had told him, and while it might be fun to play more games, she was starting to feel increasingly tired as the night wore on. Moreover, daylight was coming. She figured it wouldn't be too hard to try and get someone drugged - both normally and with alchemy - and with raving stories besides - checking into an asylum. Especially if she left a little compulsion for him.
William stirs with a snort, blinking rapidly at Elora. "Huh," he sounds out in confusion, staring at Elora. He can't remember much, if anything at all. No, nothing at all. Only that Elora seems vaguely familiar, but he can't fathom why. "Uh, sup chicka?" he says as her features become apparent. She's pretty, which prompts him to act smoothly, working up a pickup line. He realizes that part isn't necessary when he sees he's in a vehicle with her. "Hell yeah," he says to himself, but has to ask Elora. "We going to your place or what?"
Elora shakes her head at William. "No, William. We go to White Oak now. You are to be quite mad, I think. Yours are to be white walls and a white jacket."
Elora nods to herself about something as she drives the van toward White Oak.
Elora starts to giggle.
What a sobering reminder. For what it's worth, William seems to take that revelation pretty well. "Oh. Right," he mumbles, crestfallen. A scene plays in his head, where he realizes he needs the help that Elora is providing him. Not quite the help he or anyone else would envision, there may be a silver lining in all of this madness. Namely keeping one unaware soul from spilling the deets on the supernatural world out in the open. "Alright then," he says, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie back up his arm, ignoring the mark left by that syringe. Laughter can be infectious, so as Elora starts to giggle, anxious chuckling follows suit. It's like an awkward scene in a movie where the villain laughs, and their minions join in.
Elora tries to ensure she drives over puddles when she spots them.
Elora narrows her eyes and peers at William. "Why were you looking at the Sleepy Dragon when I came in earlier? I went into and came out of the Howl." How ironic, the name, given his reality. She had gone in under nightmare so it wasn't a lie.
A bump and a skid is no more a dampener on William's spirits than the thought that he's being checked into a clinic. A sorts of scenarios play out in his mind that led him here. Under the memory potion's influence, what he envisions in his head is most likely something that only he can fathom, but it's far from accurate. Some of it is inspired with Elora, whenever he stares her way. Seeing her as a benevolent being that found him in a sorry state. Until she shoots her that pointed question. "W-when? Did I?" he asks her, horribly confused, yet at the same time seeking forgiveness all the same. "I don't know. I was just lost in my thoughts," he tells her. Which would be quite the understatement.
"Sometimes people stay lost for a very long time. As you might be able to tell from my accent, I'm from England," Elora lilts, her English accent called to attention. "My William, my brother, he studies folklore. The aes sidhe, also known as the daoine sith show up in his studies. Did you know the leannan sidhe is known as a beautiful woman? She seeks the love of men like you and if they refuse her love she is their slave, but if they accept the inevitable conclusion is madness and death for them? Wouldn't that be quite terrible? If you thought to take a lover, but in your time with her, instead of having her, you found yourself having madness?"
Elora casually drives to White Oak, as one does, hitting puddles along the way.
Aside from her initial statements, SRCrystal doesn't quite comprehend much else of what Elora tells him. She might as well be speaking in tongues to him, but he does get the gist out of the latter portions of her thoughts made verbal. "Uh. Yeah," he says absently, just nodding his head along. "It sounds bad, but also like one of those twisted fairy tales with like a uh..." he struggles to come up with a proper reference. "Probably one of those stories with a lesson in them." Indeed, William, exactly like that. It's pretty topical, all things considered.
As the narrative unfolds, Elora's true nature and her mastery over the mystical come to light. Employing a concoction that muddles William's memories, she deftly navigates the fine line between aid and manipulation. Under the guise of offering help, she leads William down a path paved with revelations and enchantments that challenge his perception of the world around him. The journey culminates in an unforeseen destination, not to a haven of solace but to the stark confines of White Oak, where William's newfound reality promises a stark contrast to the freedom of the night before. This tale, ethereal yet grounded in the eerie essence of Haven, leaves a haunting resonance, echoing with the whims of fate and the intricate dance of predator and prey within the realms of the supernatural.
(Elora's odd encounter(SRCrystal):SRCrystal)
[Thu Oct 10 2024]
At a parking lot
It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a first quarter moon.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
It's getting colder and colder in Haven, and the sheer darkness in the parking lot probably doesn't help matters very much. Wherever this dark, foreboding parking lot is, it probably doesn't matter very much. We have Elora here, who might hear the scuffling of feet hitting the pavement, accompanied by the steady rhythm of someone's panicked panting. Depending on the sort of make that she is, she'd probably have heard this person's approach long before he, she, or someone in between's form was within eyesight. Their feet move erratically, the sure symptom of someone who has been moving in a panick.
Elora had been in a rather sour mood as she stalked out of the apartment complex where she had hoped to meet Ashen. Not for the first time, she had come to his door. Not for the first time, she had knocked. Not for the first time, had her knock gone unanswered.
Her brother himself had been down the street from her when she had first entered the complex. She glanced that way now as she left it to see if he still was.
Of course that was only part of what she attended to. She did have quite acute hearing. So she could hear the paniced person approaching before they arrived. She could see quite acutely as well, even, to an extent, in the dark. So as she looked away from her glance toward her brother and instead put her focus on the source of the panicked footsteps she did so with a measure of clarity that the one panicking might lack.
Not her brother, nor the person she was seeking, unfortunately. Upon getting closer towards Elora, the particulars of this person who has had the chance fortune (or misfortune) of stumbling upon the woman become more obvious. He has shaggy blonde hair, deep hazel eyes that look green when the light shines just right, and stands at a middling height just a handful of inches below the six foot mark. An oversized brown hoodie and some dark blue denim jeans make up his outfit, footwear not particularly outstanding. He looks pretty young, fresh faced and at this moment, scared out of his mind.
"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap," his panic stricken voice sounds out, nearly breathless. He stops just a few paces away from Elora, happy to do so and quite relieved to find someone else. He must be fleeing someone, or something."H-hey," he calls out to her, leaning down on his knees to catch his breath. "Call 911," he's already urging her. The need to call 911 rather than the Haven's Sheriff's Department might clue someone in that this is some out of towner rather than a local.
smiles a wide smile at the panicking man, perhaps its reassuring. She certainly doesn't have the look of a dangerous predator to someone who is not Aware. Blue and green dyed hair might seem playful. She's also a tiny thing, not particularly threatening, physically. "What should I tell them?" Elora asks, curiously, tilting her head slightly and standing with a stillness that isn't particularly in keeping with the man's panic - lacking in empathy, lacking in that quality of reaching out with care for his trouble.
Elora listens for anything chasing the man.
Calling the Sheriff's department is probably the right choice. Boring, but clearly the best choice when someone is besides themselves and in some trouble. It's not clear what this trouble could be though. Besides, doing the right thing is boring too. A few more short intakes of heavy breathing, and the young man pushes himself up to stand straighter, though it's clear he's running on adrenaline. Beads of sweat form over his brow, pretty hazel eyes staring back at Elora, comforted by her presence. She looks like a sensible sort, he's thinking to himself as he assesses her person. The guy looks like he'd be in the age range where he'd be out partying, trying to squeeze a girl's number at a college meet, or wasting a lot of time playing video games being an impressive procrastinator. College age.
"Yeah uh. There's this crazy ass lady that I met at Sludgefukk. Ugh." He groans, wiping at his face and shooting a bleak grimace at Elora, not very proud of the details. "She got pissed off because... nevermind. She fucking turned into a wolf, her bones and shit," he gestures animatedly, trying to use his arms to paint a thousand words into a picture. "Wait. I got a video of it, here," he starts fumbling around his hoodie, no doubt for a phone. "Her bones and crap were like cracking, and her skin was turning all stretched." He looks blazed out of his mind as well, but if he has some video evidence, that might spark alarm.
As of now, the only thing that Elora can probably hear is the guy before her being belligerent.
Elora peers at the video with curious interest as he pulls out his phone. She looks at the phone, then to the man asking her to call 911, then back to the phone, then back to the man. She can't quite keep the smile from actually reaching her eyes.
Elora considers the situation. A man, potentially under threat from a werewolf. Also, a potential danger to the Understanding with his video evidence.
Elora makes a noise of appreciation at the sight of the video. Feigning deeper interest she reaches for the phone and says, "Let me see that? Its harder to see when you're holding it. You should *give me your phone*."
"I know I sound crazy here lady..." Blondie with hazel eyes appends upon Elora, his nerves starting to calm, and with that some clarity. His eyes squint to fixate on the maiden, starting to note the vibrant colours about her person. In particular, her hair, which seems awfully entrancing to him. It's nothing out of the ordinary as far as he's concerned though, he's been to a rave or two and met others who were expressive with styling their hair, among other things. "But this shit's serious. Someone could get -hurt- !" He just about yells, starting to grow frantic again. He looks unharmed, but his mind probably took the brunt of the damage when allegedly saying or doing the wrong thing to a she-wolf.
At this point, he definitely could have tried to call law enforcement on his phone. He's pretty intent on showing Elora the proof though. Maybe he's seeking some consolation, or wants to make sure he's not batshit crazy and the video won't get him laughed at. The video shows pretty haphazard scene. The perspective is shaking and there's someone screaming -- it's him. There's growling and chuffing, definitely sounds like some angry beast. But the details are too hard to make out much. It's just the screaming like a little child while desperately trying to focus on a vaguely furred, large figure, and the video eventually cuts out, presumably that's when he started to book it. "Y-yeah, here," he says, handing his precious iPhone to to her. It's a damn iPhone 16 too. Expensive and precious. This guy seems to be having it good, other than his wolf problem. After he hands the device off, he blinks dumbly. "Oh right. We should fuckin' call 911."
Elora takes the phone with a little gusto, nabbing it as soon as she can. She doesn't pay much mind to the attention she's being given nor to the man's dating life.
"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Elora asks, feigning ignorance. "There isn't anything surprising to me here. Nothing crazy. Have you been doing drugs?"
He suddenly has a hankering to retrieve his expensive iPhone back from Elora, one shaking hand reaching out, and he himself has his suspicions about the angry she-wolf, half turning to check his six. Nothing on the prowl yet, as far as he's concerned. "C'mon. We gotta call 911 or something. Fuckin' animal control even." When his hazel eyes settle back on Elora, there's a pleading look in his eyes that screams 'You gotta believe me!' One step forward, he's stepping into her space. For his phone, of course. "I couldn't get a good view of it because it was gonna fuck me up or something. Bet that bitch has rabies," he mutters, souring up at the recollection still fresh in his mind. "Here, gimme my phone back, I'll pause the video at the spot wher eyou can CLEARLY see it," he insists.
Elora definitely doesn't give the phone back. Quite to the contrary she playfully pulls it away from any attempt to grab it. "I've got it," Elora reassures the man. "Just tell me where to pause it, okay?"
"H-hey...!" he exclaims, desperately reaching for that phone. Elora's good enough at keep away he doesn't get his way for now though. He scowls and folds his arms over his shoulders, paranoia tapping him on the shoulder once more to check behind him. No wolf. Yet. "Pause it like at five or six seconds," he instructs her, having gone through the footage a few times to get to that ballpark number. If Elora did try and check, it'd actually be at the eight second mark. The indicated timeframe would be him squealing like a pig trying it's damnedest to escape the butcher's blade. "Hurry up," he grouses, growing finicky. "She might still be out here, and she'd get us BOTH."
Hearing his worries for her safety "Just you," Elora reassures the man. Wait, is that supposed to be reassuring? "But you're right. Lets head for my van. Its just a little bit down the street. I didn't park in the parking lot." She never does, actually. Her junker of a van always get parked on the street. As she walks, she draws power through her as she can, trying to shape the illusion she wishes to cast. One swapping the image of the girl transformed with the girl as she had been before being transformed. On the stillness of that eight second, she readies herself. Its not really for his sake. Its for hers. She had done something similar before when using Illusory Mancing; done it quite often, but that was with people. It wasn't more subtle and more general illusions. So as subtle power crackled through her bramble throned collar and out into the world she was not quite sure if she was Shaping it correctly or if it would work at all.
Elora when cast, boldly shows the stopped moment to the man, holding out his own phone for him to see, but ready to pull it away at a moment's notice; if she had anything say about it he would be losing the phone tonight.
Grunting, blondie holds a hand up with a finger extended, chasing after Elora and his precious iPhone. "H-hey!" he stammers, stumbling after her. He's too fixated on Elora and the device she holds in her hands he doesn't notice the strange influence conducted around the collar. He just needs his phone back and for Elora to call law enforcement. Then when she turns on him with the video paused, he can only blink dumbly at what he sees. Squinting, he rubs at his eyes for take two, stares again, and makes a strangled noise. "What the fu-" he blurts out, eyes slanting to Elora's. "That's... that's not." His lower lips tremble, and it looks like the fellow might just burst into tears. Not yet though, his conviction on what he sw is strong, so he holds onto that lifeline for as long as he can, despite the evidence he had now proving the contrary. "Let me see my phone," he demands, otherwise ambling along with Elora towards the vehicle parked nearby. "You're probably doing it wrong!"
"You did drugs. You're seeing things that aren't there, too." Elora grins. She knows he is. She made sure of it. "I bet if I told you that there was a possessed fox in my van... you would see it. We can both agree that if you could see that, you would be crazy, right? So how about a little game? If you see a fox, after I've just only suggested that you might see one, then you'll get in the van and you'll let me hold onto your phone. But if you don't see a fox... then I'll agree to not only give you your phone back, but more then that, I'll let you touch me. I'll let you do whatever depraved things you want to me? How does that sound?" She walks backwards as she talks, letting the phone drop and the spell fade and her arms swing a bit. Her eyes are full of delightful mischief as she leads Idiot toward her van.
"No," he states firmly, but doubt riddles his psyche as he once more rubs at his eyes, trying to make things make sense. It's not working, a combination of his fears and the trauma of being chased by a beast was bad enough for his state of mind, but now there's an insidious cocktail being brewed with Elora's machinations. Illusions, the psychological tugging she manipulates with him. The phone not showing what he stated it should. Even though the first time he brought the video up, he could have sworn it showed that monstrous furred figure, hackles raised ready to tear everything apart. "Get the fuck out of here," he tells Elora, growing angrier, but taking the bait. He walks solidly by her, ready to prove there's no damn fox in this lady's van. The phone drops with a clatter, its case protecting it from the impact.
He doesn't care about that phone, or calling law enforcement. It's about showing Elora up now. Once he's neared the van, he waits expectantly for it to be opened. "Let's make a bet," he says, holding his hand up. "No fox, we call the police and get to safety, and you give me a kiss."
Elora says "Its a bet."
Elora opens the van door with a flourish, grin mischievous and wide as she looks up at the no doubt bigger man. Its one of those sliding doors. So as it opens, it slides. Then it CLUNKs. And there, in the van's back, is Envy.
The red fox stands before them, its sleek, russet fur marred by patches of unnatural gray, as though death itself has begun to claim it. Its once vibrant eyes are now hollow, sunken pits of darkness, betraying the malevolent spirit that lurks within. There is no trace of the fox's former cunning or playfulness; instead, a cold intelligence gleams in the abyss of its gaze, far older and far more dangerous than any mere animal.
The fox moves with eerie grace, every step measured, its paws silent on the ground despite itspredatory intent. Its tail, once bushy and full, now drags behind it like a tattered banner of decay. Occasionally, the tail twitches unnaturally, as though the spirit inside struggles to contain its wrath. A faint mist seems to rise from its fur, a chill in the air that follows wherever it goes, leaving frost-kissed grass in its wake.
When it snarls, the sound is low, gutturala rasping noise that echoes the spirit's hateful whispers. Its teeth, unnaturally sharp and too long for its mouth, gleam like polished bone. There is a predatory hunger in the way it watches you, a dark promise of violence restrained only by the thinnest thread of control. When it moves, it does so with predatory precision, never stumbling, never falteringa creature no longer bound by the limits of flesh but animated by the malevolence that drives it.
Elora nods to herself about something.
"Yeah," he goes on to agree, utterly confident things are gonna go his way. He's going to prove there's werewolves on the loose in Haven, save the day, become a hero, get a kiss from a lady with mesmerizing neon hued tresses, and maybe score a number. Peace of mind is within reach. He just needs to see the van door flung open and point out there's no damn fox and then he'll call this lady a kooky sort.
*CLUNK*
He peers into the van half consciously, because of course there'd be nothing in there. And he's probably not gonna get in if she asks, unless she insists it's for something he'd enjoy. A total sleaze, this one. His eyes grow wide open in disbelief when the fox that shouldn't exist slips right out. A strangled, pathetic noise burbles in his throat, and he steps back aghast. Snarling at him, he jumps backwards, falling on his eyes. "What the fuck?" he breathes aloud in disbelief, once more rubbing at his eyes. They're growing bloodshot from all that rubbing, doing him no good but making him look like the junkie that left one of Haven's seedier establishments. "W-what what... what the hell is going on!?" He cries aloud, grasping at his hair, tugging at the roots. He never established terms if he lost, because he knew he wasn't going to lose this bet.
And yet...
Elora tilts her head. She lilts out in her usual English accent, "You've lost." She can't keep from grinning as she says it, but she tries to hide the grin, looking down a little so that her tresses fall in front of her like a veil. It ins't enough of course. And then she starts to giggle. Its not a nice giggle. In the dark her turquoise and neon hair might seem less colorful and friendly. Especially with a fox as putrid as the one she keeps as pet beside her. That fox growls lightly even as she giggles. "You'se seeing things. Hearing them too." Again, the truth. These things are Real. Not like his Phone had been. She pockets his phone even as she giggles.
Elora has teal eyes that are shrouded in part behind her hair.
Elora hisses, "Look at me," her playful energy gone in a mercurial moment.
While Elora is grinning, SRCrystal is frowning. Distraught, horribly confused, and out of his mind. From fox to teal-eyed woman, he stares at the latter with daggers in his eyes. Disbelieving for a little while longer before the stare is blunted, resigned. Pushing himself up to his feet, he still retains a modicum of his pride. "You won, fine," he mumbles, clenching his fists. He's infuriated, but he can't take it on her, even if he tried. He's just some dude from out of town looking for an easy lay or five here in Haven, and Elora is something else entirely. She has a strange pull about her that he's unable to resist. Attractive, but there's more to her that he can't quite put his finger on. Only that he's intimidated by her. Swallowing hard, he tries to face the makings of the bargain solemnly and stoicly, yet the color in his face drains. He's got a bad feeling about this.
He steps towards her, eyes locked with hers, and suddenly all that anger and befuddlement is fading fast. He starts to adopt a more vacant expression as he meets those teal eyes. "I'm looking at you," he says in a monotone, completely hers.
"It ought to -seem- clear to you are this point that you are not mentally well. You came to me for help." Elora is not really helping, but it is a fact. He did come. "I'm here. And I'll be ensuring you get a treatment. There is a clinic. I plan to take you to it." Eventually. "So get in the van and -let me give you a treatment-" A syringe. One that steals away memories. Not that she wants him to see the syringe; definitely something to hide, as she can, under illusion. Tricks are much more fun when no one is quite sure how they are done.
Elora moves to the door without her earlier playfulness, eyes cold and apathetic. She opens the door. "In."
Elora opens the passenger seat door for... whatever his name is.
Yeah. "...yeah," he replies in a distant tone, eyes as wide as they can be as he stares into Elora's, enlightened in some way. It's simply just that mysterious pull and a pinch of her wiles that does him in now, sealed to her whims. He's moving to her like he was directed to, his life's purpose. Stepping inside, he's like a completely changed person. Seated at the passenger side for a ride, he is as complacent as he can be, but doesn't bother with strapping in. Practicing safety is boring after all. His iPhone still lies abandoned on the sidewalk, and it's true, he's never given his name to Elora. Now that he is essentially hers, it wouldn't be too difficult to extract it from him.
With her probing at his mental state, she'd find that there is no resistance there. The strong-willed man is mush as far as she's concerned. Obediently awaiting for the 'treatement' in store for her.
Elora takes a moment to put on the child safety lock for the door. She smiles up at the man as she does. Then she locks the door as well. "Seatbelt on," she cooes. Then she slams it, hard. CLANGing it shut. Next she moves to the next door and slides it shut with whrrrr and then Clunk, click as the latch inside catches.
Skipping, she prances her way around the van. Meanwhile, Envy, horrible little fox that he is, is likely growling. She gives the van a bit of a slap to tell the fox to quiet. Then she's fully back to her door. She opens it. But she's tiny. So she doesn't just hop in. Its more of a climb and a clamber before she's in her seat and pulling the door closed and buckling up herself. She can see while sitting in her seat, she has a view of the street out her window. Barely.
Elora starts driving for the goblin market, rather then the clinic.
Elora feels out for the energy of mystical links to the goblin market. The Sleepy Dragon has one as does Howl at the Moon. She heads for the Sleepy Dragon.
While Elora ensures to safeguard her newly acquired asset, it's quite unnecessary. That lock, and the door won't exist to him unless Elora dictates he'd need to be aware of it. Meaning if she says jump, he'ls going to jump. Otherwise, he's in it for the ride, patiently setting his hands over his lap, eyes on the road. The growls from behind don't even unnerve him anymore. The fox is Elora's, so he need not be concerned with it. Only if Elora dictates it to be.
On the contrary to the fae's thoughts, he thinks today is his lucky day. He's somehow gotten into the 'good' graces with a lady, and while he was told he'd get the help he'd need, he's still also himself, to a certain degree: His subconscious is telling him he'll get lucky tonight. She's a far better looking lady than that nasty wolf.
They pass the clinic, yet he doesn't seem bothered by that either. Eyes fixed on the road. "Thanks for helping me out," he turns his head to regard her with adoration, smiling at his savior. "...er. Sorry. What was your name again?"
Elora gently takes one hand from the wheel and taps her shirt. "I have a nametag," she offers, a smirk on her face. The nametag reads, *Katherine* in a childish scrawl as if written by someone who is not quite so great at writing letters.
Elora has a dress actually, regardless, she taps.
Elora says "What is yours?"
Elora gestures down herself, and so he allows his hazel eyes to rake down her form, lingering on her bust. The top of her breasts are out for display, so of course he has to stare. That's the way of the world. For greasy sleazeballs like himself. "Katherine," he breathes out, tone suggesting it might just be the most beautiful thing he's heard all name. It's a name that doesn't belong to something nasty and frothing at the maw, for one.
He swallows hard though when she prompts him about her name. For a few seconds, the leash that she has on his subconscious wanes. He sees her, and doesn't recognize her, and the fear grows in his mind. Then that leash is corrected, constricting around the throat of his mind. "William," he tells her.
Coincidence?
Elora asks, "William?"
Elora asks again, "Your name is William?"
"William," SRCrystal confirms with a steady nod, and then adds, "But everyone just calls me Bill." Could that give someone a certain sense of deja vu? "Why, Katherine?" he wonders, looking aside to her with a few blinks and a dopey smile. Again, his eyes linger down her throat. "Kat? Can I call you Kat?"
"I'm William," William confirms with a steady nod, and then adds, "But everyone just calls me Bill." Could that give someone a certain sense of deja vu? "Why, Katherine?" he wonders, looking aside to her with a few blinks and a dopey smile. Again, his eyes linger down her throat. "Kat? Can I call you Kat?" (fix)
Elora says "No! You may not call me Kat. You must call be Katherine. As for why, the nametag clearly reads Katherine, not Kat."
balks at that, hand at his cheek when she denies him that affectionate abbreviation of her name. Like he was reprimanded. It's a steady reminder that his place isn't quite as cozy as he'd think with her. He nods and nods some more, apologetic in his silence.
Elora keeps an eye out for stray werewolves that are hunting as she makes her way toward the Sleepy Dragon. William! As if she doesn't have her hands full with enough William's as it is!
Elora because it had rained earlier would have been driving on a road that has the potential for puddles. She would make a point, if possible, to drive over those puddles and make splashes. Not for any other reason than that she could.
William starts to hum an anxious little tune to himself, cognizant of the fact he might have stepped a little over some boundaries by asking Elora, or Katherine if he could call her by something else. "Yep... name's William. Will. I. Am." He almost sings out,far more interested in staring at Elora while the van pulls up near the Sleepy Dragon. "What's this place?" he asks her, leaning her way some.
Elora explains to WIlliam, "This is a place where people play games on glowing screens, dress properly while calling it 'cosplay'..." She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "And also they have a bar where they serve drinks and so on. They're quite tasty. I've tried them before." More importantly of course was that it had a connection to the goblin market - she could sense it. And she had a symbol to open the way as well. "I'm going to be a few minutes. I have something I need to do before I can get you your treatment. You will not follow. You will stay here."
She pauses. Then, she thinks to ask. "Did you kiss her? The girl you thought turned into a wolf?"
Sniffing quietly, William stares at Elora, listening intently. When she states she's going to go out, his hand reflexively moves for the handle to the passenger side, ready to join her until she specifically tells the hypnotized man that he has to stay here. Unable to hide the disappointment in his face, he nods his head regardless. "Alright. I'll wait right here," he promises, then starts, adding something /very/ important. To him. "I don't have condoms on me so uh. See if they have any. We could probably do it raw but like," he just makes a gesture afterwards, feeling it best not to dig too deep in the details. The man has his priorities, and it's a persistent reminder to Elora what sort of person she's dealing with, even if he is under her control to some degree.
Elora goes still staring at the man. Then she says, slowly, carefully. "People tell me that I should ask before I play with people. I should get permission. So... would you like to play with me?"
There is no hesitation whatsoever for William's response. "Yeah. I'd like to play with you, Kat," he tells her eagerly, raking in her form. "Er. Kat," he corrects himself, and with that out of the way, he reaches into his pockets, pulling out a breath freshener, popping a few mists in his mouth. He's totally got this in the bag. He thinks she's under his claws, when it's the other way around. It helps keep him under the spell she's cast on him at the very least.
Elora taps the nametag that reads Katherine as she gets out of the car, smile tight. Then she makes the return climb down from her seat and out of the van. She plops down into the rain soaked street. "His ankle, if he runs, Envy," she calls loud enough to be heard in the van by the spirit possessed fox's keen ears. Then she heads in. She intends to just head straight for the goblin market to make her potion, but who knows what could happen along the way.
Elora skips her way to make a potion.
"Katherine," SRCrystal finally blurts, making a mistake twice due to his head being in the gutter. He watches the maiden vacate the van, expression growing a touch morose. Does he already miss her? Then he has eyes for the fox, and he starts to become uncomfortable again, hand playing at the handle to the passenger door of the van. It might be separation anxiety going on there, but he's resigned to stay put and wait for Elora, under the scrutiny of that fox he swore wasn't real. But is. "I'll wait here," he states solemnly. After all, he thinks he's getting lucky tonight.
"K-Katherine," William finally blurts, making a mistake twice due to his head being in the gutter. He watches the maiden vacate the van, expression growing a touch morose. Does he already miss her? Then he has eyes for the fox, and he starts to become uncomfortable again, hand playing at the handle to the passenger door of the van. It might be separation anxiety going on there, but he's resigned to stay put and wait for Elora, under the scrutiny of that fox he swore wasn't real. But is. "I'll wait here," he states solemnly. After all, he thinks he's getting lucky tonight. (small correction)
"You will," Elora calls back, reassuringly.
Elora makes her way into the Sleepy Dragon - if its even open at this time of night. She hasn't ever checked before. But if its not she can just slip into the nightmare easily enough and come out through a mirror in the bathroom on her way to the market.
Haven is just one of those places that has a ton of 24/7 businiesses. It probably comes with being a small, sleepy town. While Elora busies herself with finalizing her scheme, William is makes do in the car how he can. He has his arms folded over his chest, staring at the strange fox unblinkingly. He's still trying to figure out what it's doing here, and if it's real. He finds some random bit of string and waves it in the fox's direction, trying to form some sort of bond, figuring that since they're both under Elora in some way they best play nice."C'mon c'mon... get the string buddy," he encourages.
Elora fox's was a malevolent spirit of envy. In particular, it had envied William of all things. The bond that he had his with his sister. The fact that he had the warmth of familial love. A spirit of envy; not a spirit of, you know - actually knowing what William and Elora had, relationship wise.
Continuing to wiggle the string between his fingers a little while longer, William eventually gives up trying to strike up some sort of accord with the fox. Not knowing it's a familiar and a spirit at that, he shifts in his seat and continues to wait impatiently. "Probably has rabies," he mutters. Every now and then he eyes the door, considering if he should go look for Elora. "Maybe she got lost. Maybe she needs my help. Maybe I should go find her," he poses to himself, worrying even though it hasn't even been ten minutes. He stays put in the end.
Elora heads past any patrons and uses her symbol to get into the stone passage in order to access the goblin market. She heads down the passage way making particular note of the passage that tends to lead to the abandoned pssych ward.
Elora works on a potion. One to take the memory of his last kiss. She gathers the ingredients and sets to work while William back in her van plays with the fox. Idly, if there is any time during the brewing where she has the freedom to, she goes through his phone and sees if there are any good opportunities for mischief. Surely there is something she can do to make his life a bit more interesting.
William has been staying put, but the enthrallment of hypnosis that he's under starts to grow weaker the longer he is separated from Elora. His mind starts racing to other things, things that were at first trivialities. While not a local of Haven, he does have some Sanctuary, which helps lift some of the fog, but the protection is ultimately limited. He takes deep, calming breaths, contemplating why he's here, what he should do, how he'd shake off the creepy fox. The hold of the spell reigns him in the moment his thoughts come back to Elora, uncouth in nature. That's what does him in and convinces him to stay put, and the hypnosis takes hold over his frail mind once more.
Elora would eventually finish up her potion and get it loaded into a syringe. Then she would make her way back out the way she came.
When Elora returns to someone and the fox in her van, he has his face pressed to the windows, searching for any sign on her whereabouts. The passing person draws some disappointment. This William was never the most patient of guys, yet the promise for a good time keeps him right where he is, fidgeting in his seat. Hands search his pockets, and then he realizes something.
"Shit. Where'd I leave my phone?" he asks aloud, eyes looking here and there.
Elora takes some time on the way back to repeatedly slam his phone against the stone wall, as one does. Then back in the tavern she tosses the wreckage into the trash.
Elora also paid for her potion!
Pressing his face against the passenger window of the van, searching for any sign on her whereabouts. The passing person draws some disappointment. This William was never the most patient of guys, yet the promise for a good time keeps him right where he is, fidgeting in his seat. Hands search his pockets, and then he realizes something.
"Shit. Where'd I leave my phone?" he asks aloud, eyes looking here and there. Clueless that his expensive iPhone was smashed to bits. "Come on Kat..." he gripes to himself, comfortable to call her that while she's away. Unless the fox is a dirty tattle tale.
Elora walks out with a spring in her step. She's a playful sort and so instead of just going out the way most people would - through the front door - she slips into the nightmare and goes past him unseeen and across the street. From the nearby Howl she comes out through a bathroom mirror. Then and only then does she sneak her way back around the van coming as she can from its blindspot to try and avoid being seen.
Elora opens the van door and hops in.
Elora grins at William.
Completely thinking that Elora will return from the Sleepy Dragon, he's caught completely by surprise when she opens the door behind him. A startled yelp is followed by an anxious chuckle. "Heyyy, Kat. Katherine," he greets her in an odd tone, taken by her appearance momentarily. Ever to the point, he asks her, "Did you find protection?" He makes a crude gesture with a forefinger and a circle with a thumb and other forefinger, implying what he means by any protection.
Elora coos, "I got you your treatment, actually." She doesn't bother showing him the syringe. "You bet me a kiss and you lost. So you should lose a kiss too. I'm not sure which kiss. Stick out your arm, William. And close your eyes."
"My arm?" he repeats as a question, shooting Elora a queer look. He seems to be onto her, at least for a few seconds before he rolls his sleeves up, exposing his toned forearm, and further up even goes on to grace the woman nearby with the his bicep. It's pretty muscular, and he's clearly trying to impress her with his physique. Casually, he leans in close to her with his arm held for her, already bragging, "Yeah. I lift. It's no big deal." As instructed, he then shuts his eyes, unable to keep himself from smiling.
Elora would have no qualms about sticking William with the syringe and slamming the plunger down, assuming the man went along with her.
Elora stabs William with the memory removal potion, potentially stripping him of his memory of his last kiss.
Elora keeps an ear out for howling wolves.
"Alright, alright," William exhales, holding his arm out and with his eyes shut, turns his head, puckering up for a kiss that he's expecting. In a way, he does get a kiss, but it's a kiss from that syringe, jamming into his arm. He flexes it in turn, eyes opening in surprise. Whatever concoction that Elora's cooked up immediately works itself into his bloodstream while he stares at the syringe jammed into his arm in confusion. "Wh-" he wants to say, but the memory potion works quick, and his head lulls forward, the guy growing inert for a moment. He might have died right then and there, but acute senses would pick up his breathing, and even the rhythm of his heartbeat. It's face and frenzied, but in time fades into a sluggish staccato.
Elora tucks syringe away some place where it won't be seen. Then while William copes with his memory loss, she goes about getting buckled in. Pulling her seatbelt across her chest. -Clicking- it down into place. She pushes her keys in, twists. Gets the van sputtering back to life. Then she is looking back around and pulling away. The clinic, she had told him, and while it might be fun to play more games, she was starting to feel increasingly tired as the night wore on. Moreover, daylight was coming. She figured it wouldn't be too hard to try and get someone drugged - both normally and with alchemy - and with raving stories besides - checking into an asylum. Especially if she left a little compulsion for him.
William stirs with a snort, blinking rapidly at Elora. "Huh," he sounds out in confusion, staring at Elora. He can't remember much, if anything at all. No, nothing at all. Only that Elora seems vaguely familiar, but he can't fathom why. "Uh, sup chicka?" he says as her features become apparent. She's pretty, which prompts him to act smoothly, working up a pickup line. He realizes that part isn't necessary when he sees he's in a vehicle with her. "Hell yeah," he says to himself, but has to ask Elora. "We going to your place or what?"
Elora shakes her head at William. "No, William. We go to White Oak now. You are to be quite mad, I think. Yours are to be white walls and a white jacket."
Elora nods to herself about something as she drives the van toward White Oak.
Elora starts to giggle.
What a sobering reminder. For what it's worth, William seems to take that revelation pretty well. "Oh. Right," he mumbles, crestfallen. A scene plays in his head, where he realizes he needs the help that Elora is providing him. Not quite the help he or anyone else would envision, there may be a silver lining in all of this madness. Namely keeping one unaware soul from spilling the deets on the supernatural world out in the open. "Alright then," he says, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie back up his arm, ignoring the mark left by that syringe. Laughter can be infectious, so as Elora starts to giggle, anxious chuckling follows suit. It's like an awkward scene in a movie where the villain laughs, and their minions join in.
Elora tries to ensure she drives over puddles when she spots them.
Elora narrows her eyes and peers at William. "Why were you looking at the Sleepy Dragon when I came in earlier? I went into and came out of the Howl." How ironic, the name, given his reality. She had gone in under nightmare so it wasn't a lie.
A bump and a skid is no more a dampener on William's spirits than the thought that he's being checked into a clinic. A sorts of scenarios play out in his mind that led him here. Under the memory potion's influence, what he envisions in his head is most likely something that only he can fathom, but it's far from accurate. Some of it is inspired with Elora, whenever he stares her way. Seeing her as a benevolent being that found him in a sorry state. Until she shoots her that pointed question. "W-when? Did I?" he asks her, horribly confused, yet at the same time seeking forgiveness all the same. "I don't know. I was just lost in my thoughts," he tells her. Which would be quite the understatement.
"Sometimes people stay lost for a very long time. As you might be able to tell from my accent, I'm from England," Elora lilts, her English accent called to attention. "My William, my brother, he studies folklore. The aes sidhe, also known as the daoine sith show up in his studies. Did you know the leannan sidhe is known as a beautiful woman? She seeks the love of men like you and if they refuse her love she is their slave, but if they accept the inevitable conclusion is madness and death for them? Wouldn't that be quite terrible? If you thought to take a lover, but in your time with her, instead of having her, you found yourself having madness?"
Elora casually drives to White Oak, as one does, hitting puddles along the way.
Aside from her initial statements, SRCrystal doesn't quite comprehend much else of what Elora tells him. She might as well be speaking in tongues to him, but he does get the gist out of the latter portions of her thoughts made verbal. "Uh. Yeah," he says absently, just nodding his head along. "It sounds bad, but also like one of those twisted fairy tales with like a uh..." he struggles to come up with a proper reference. "Probably one of those stories with a lesson in them." Indeed, William, exactly like that. It's pretty topical, all things considered.