Encounterlogs
Emmellines Odd Encounter Sr Sam 241210
In a chilly evening outside a lodge, Emmelline finds herself in a small conflict over her car with a group of inconsiderate individuals. Wanting simply to drive off into the night, she politely asks them to move, only to be met with hostility and entitlement. Even a nearby dog seems to express aggression towards her, adding to the scene's tension. Unwilling to escalate the situation, she cleverly decides to avoid confrontation by getting into her car and driving away, forcing the group to hastily clear the glasses they had placed on her hood. As Emmelline leaves, the environment turns even more hostile, with road rage and aggression seemingly directed at her from every corner until, just as quickly as it began, the aggressiveness of the night ceases, leaving Emmelline to reflect on the bizarre and unnerving series of events.
Meanwhile, Ash invites Luciano over to share a quiet moment but finds themselves overwhelmed by an unseen force that takes control over their body and voice. In a terrifying display of possession, Ash's actions are dictated by something sinister, prompting desperate measures from Luciano to save them. As the story unfolds, the entity reveals its intention to trade places with Ash, threatening a more ominous future encounter. Despite the brief respite from the immediate danger, both Ash and Luciano are left to face the harsh reality of the supernatural threat lingering in the air, marking a dark and uncertain conclusion to their night. The story leaves us with a chilling reminder of the thin veil between our world and that of darker, unseen forces waiting on the fringe.
(Emmelline's odd encounter(SRSam):SRSam)
[Mon Dec 9 2024]
At a Sidewalk leading up to the ^Lodge^
A sturdy building made from old hardwood provides food and shelter for
visitors and locals alike. The exterior walls are well sealed logs while
the floors are reddish wooden panels that can be found throughout the
structure. Heavy beams crisscross overhead supporting lanterns that hang
low and provide light to the entrance.
It is night, about 41F(5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(Your target has been cursed with persecution, it is up to them to survive a world suddenly turned hostile until their allies can come and help get them to safety or deal with the curse.
)
Emmelline is just stepping out of the lodge onto the street, zipping up her coat as she heads towards her apple red car parked just nearby.
It is a relatively cold night, and as Emmelline exits the lodge, it is quiet.
Well, apart from a dog, who barks at her as she passes.
As Emmelline reaches her car, however, a trio of people are there, students, perhaps, shooting the proverbial shit. They don't seem to notice Emmelline, seemingly having used the car as a thing to lean against, despite the coldness around them.
Emmelline is actually distracted by the dog that barks as she passes, she pauses to look at the dog. "Aww puppy," she says with a smile, even if the animal is barking at her. She makes the little clicking noise with her tongue that most do when they see dogs. But soon, the cold makes her move on. And then she notices the three individuals there, leaning against her car and talking. "Excuse me," she says politely, as she holds the keys in one hand. "If you all could sort of... shift this convo along," she says, gesturing the individuals onwards, away from her car so she can get in.
The dog's ears flop backwards, and it bares it's teeth as Emmelline makes not a singular movement that should cause that. Perhaps it's a stray, perhaps bad experiences with human... likes.
"So anyway, then I s--" One of the three trails off, and perks an eyebrow. "Yeah?" A pause, and the other two look a little un-certainly at the man speaking, a guy in a neat suit, clearly well off. "Look, we'll just be a minute, all right?" He puts a glass down on the hood of the car, and continues. "Anyway. Sorry, that woman just made me lose track of what I was saying. Where was I?" Rude, beyond the pale, despite Emmelline's attempt to be pleasant about this.
Emmelline sighs as she runs a hand down her face. She is clearly not one for conflict, especially as it's just one of her, and three of them. She takes out her phone with her free hand. She puts the key tightly between her pointer and middle finger, reluctant to lose grip of it, as she texts. "Going to be late. Call me in say... five. If I don't answer, I'm at the carrot lodge." That done, and presumably her safety secured, she pockets the phone. Retaking the keys loosely in one hand. "Look people," she says, as she stands, looking unthreatening, "I get this might be the meeting of the united nations or something. But can we please just move this along? I mean the lodge is right there."
"Look, lady!" The leader of those delinquents... or just normal students. Whatever, acting like delinquents, turns to Emmelline again. "I already said. We'll just be a FUCKING minute, all right?" His voice raises some, as he glares at Emmelline. "I don't get why you gotta be so rude about it, like you said, the lodge is right there!" He huffs, not even turning back to his friends, who each just glare at Emmelline, like she just suggested to go kick some puppies.
Speaking of puppies, that dog slowly turns to Emmelline, haunches raised, and teeth bared as he growls low, keeping a distance, but certainly posturing.
The group is all in their twenties: One guy, who seems to be the leader, in a neat suit, brown hair waxed back, and looking a little preppy. A second one, likewise in her twenties, is a preppy sort of sorority girl, who clearly cares more about her make-up then her classes. The third one, kind of a weedy kid, in a wide hoodie, seems to be sort of floating along with the group, perhaps just happy to be included. They'd been gathered around the hood of the car, using it as a table of sorts, appearently to do late-night shots. The girl and the weedy kid are sort of starting to gather around the suited guy, with the girl still making her way around the front of the car. They do not seem, in any way supernatural, though it's hard to know for sure.
Emmelline who was so distracted by the dog before, now doesn't pay it any mind as it barks at her. Sighing, she makes her way to the back of the car, around to the driver's side, and hops in. Given they're all congregated towards the front. She starts the engine, and rolls the window down. "Look people, I'm really not one for conflict. But really, this is my car. So get those glasses off my hood, before I remove them all for you." her piece said, she rolls up her window, waiting to see what the group will do.
That weedy kid looks a little scared by that, and hurries to gather the glasses, but the suited man puts a hand on his arm, and shakes his head. "Kyle, no way are we moving just because she wants to threaten us." A greying man in his forties stands nearby, gasping as he seems to be calling someone. "Oh my god, Tony, for once, you're actually right to throw a fit!" The girl speaks, to the suited man.
Tony, the suited man, appearently, meanwhile, stands in front of Emmelline's car, and spreads his arms. "Okay, drive into me, then. See how my dad's lawyers deal with your hack from legal aide!" He spits on the hood of the car.
Emmelline sighs and shakes her head. "Really?," she mouthes, but doesn't speak. She doesn't run over the belligerent group. Instead, she backs the car up, and pulls it out onto the street. Causing whatever glasses that may have been remaining on the hood to fall off and shatter as she drives off. She doesn't even rise to it enough to flip them the bird, she just sighs and drives down the road.
Their attempts to cause problems stilled, the trio chases Emmelline's car a few blocks, shouting obscenities.
As Emmelline rides along the street, it is clear: Tonight is filled with absolute road-rage. As she drives to her next destination, everyone seems to be cutting her off, and generally just beeping their horn for any and no reason at all. It's a night of unpleasant behaviour, it seems. Then, after a few minutes or so of this, as abruptly as things turned unpleasant.... things just cease. Perhaps some days later, she might receive a citation, for reckless driving, or something such. But perhaps no police car has seen her car. Or maybe they don't know where she lives.
Regardless, the streets are back to normal. Well, as normal as it gets, in Haven, New England.
(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.
)
Ash just shifted back to their human phone to answer a text, as they look around the room with a discerning eye. As if they're planning on adjusting things, changing them around, to fit their style. Considering the view out of the window, they send a text to one of their friends, Luciano, that they've been chatting with on My Haven. 'Hey, wanna come over to the yard, show me some of those techniques? I'll take out my m24, I miss it.'
'Yeah, omw.' The text came back after a small delay. After a brief wait, Luciano pulled up in his beat up Mustang. Stepping out with a small, black pelican case. Lifting up his phone and quickly jotting down another message, 'Here, coming up now'. The man slid away his phone, looking around for a second to see if he could spot Ash.
The arrival of winter in Haven is marked by a stark, foreboding atmosphere. A scattering of dark storm clouds blankets the sky, intensifying the deep, inky darkness of the evening. As the year draws to a close, the cold sets in with a vengeance, sending the temperatures plummeting. A biting chill hangs heavily in the air, creeping through every crack and corner, and settling over the land like an uninvited guest. The crispness of the season seems to seep into the bones of all who remain, a constant reminder of the harsh days ahead as the world around them prepares for the long, unforgiving winter months.
As Ash types out a message, the evening unfolds in a way that seems utterly ordinary. A simple invitation to friends for a gathering at a new homewhat could be more fitting for the season? The final word is carefully typed into the screen, and with a tap of the send button, the message is delivered. But then, just as quickly, something unexpected happens. A sudden chill sweeps through the room, as if the very air had momentarily turned to ice. Its an eerie sensation, sharp and jarring, but just as quickly as it arrived, the cold fades, leaving behind an unsettling silence. The warmth of the room returns, but the faintest shiver lingers, as if something unseen has passed through the space.
The strange chill could easily be dismissed, just another odd moment in an otherwise routine evening. But something lingers, a subtle shift in the air that seems impossible to ignore. Almost instinctively, Ash's fingers move toward their braids, tracing the familiar beads that adorn thema comforting gesture, one that has always grounded them. But as they reach, something feels different. The usual calmness of the motion slips away, replaced by a jarring, uncontrollable force. Without warning, their fingers tighten, pulling at the braid with a sharp, painful tug that sends a stinging jolt through their scalp. The sensation is sudden and harsh, a jolt of raw discomfort that seems to have no clear cause. And just as quickly as it began, the strange grip releases, leaving only the lingering echo of the sensation, a cold, unsettling feeling that refuses to fully fade.
Ash frowns as their dreadlocks are tugged, rather than brushed back, frowning. They move, from the little cottage, out to the yard, shivering. Then, again, out front, where they find Luciano. Rather than greet him with a smile - or even get dressed properly, first - they ask him anxiously, "Hey, are my eyes blue?"
Luciano stops in his tracks as Ash comes out in nothing more than a robe and an assortment of jewelry. Squinting slightly at the out of place fanny pack, blinking rapidly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Shutting his eyes tightly, "Holy- Ash, give a guy a SECOND." He spoke aloud. Opening his eyes as they darted around the dark, a slight shiver coursing through the Italian's spine as the frigid winter reminded him of where exactly he was. "Uhhh... Lemme see..." Luciano leaned slightly forward, squinting slightly and adjusting his glasses, looking into Ash's eyes to discern if their eyes were any different from normal.
Ash apologizes sheeply, drawling, "Sorry... forgot that you couldn't see." Will o' wisps, living pastel flames, bloom into being around the underdressed twink, allowing Luciano a clearer view at their face. A bit magical, for sure... but they're on a dirt road in the woods, only a rustic cottage and trees behind them... the chance of unaware wandering through are slim.
Ash explains, "I know, I'm paranoid... but I had a weird moment, and... I don't want that to happen to me again...."
Another tug, this time more insistent, more forceful. Ash's hand moves with sudden, unnatural speed, their gaze snapping to Luciano. Without warning, their fingers tighten once more around the braid, pulling with an almost violent precision. But then, it doesnt stop there. In a fluid, disturbing motion, Ash's hand shifts, fingers darting with dexterous grace to Luciano's hair. The sharp tug they give is swift and deliberate, a harsh pull that seems to take on a life of its own. And just as quickly, their arm falls motionless at their side, as if the action had been taken from them entirely. The stillness that follows is heavy, the silence thick with something inexplicable, an unsettling calm that feels more like a lingering aftershock than the end of the disturbance.
Despite every effort to regain control, Ash feels their body slipping further from their command. Their feet begin to move on their own, dragging them backward, away from the present moment, toward the house. It's as if their own limbs are betraying them, acting of their own accord, no longer responding to their will.
Then, without warning, their lips part. What escapes isnt the usual soft words of Ash, but a cackling laugh, echoing through the room like the sound of something sinister rising from the depths. The laugh is deep, unsettling, far too rich in tone for Ash's usual voice, and it carries a malevolent energy, one that sends a chill creeping down the spine.
For a heartbeat, the room seems to freeze in time. The unnatural events fall silent, leaving only the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, and for a fleeting second, one might question if it was all merely a figment of their imagination. But the lingering sense of something amiss refuses to fade, leaving doubt in its wake, and the unsettling quiet feels more like a lull before the storm.
"Ooooo... Pretty lights... Preeeetty faaaaaaace..." Luciano coo'd out jokingly. Breaking into a smile as he stood back upright. "I'm--- Waitaminute." He leaned back in. Squinting even more as he looked into Ash's eyes... "...Tttttttthey're SUPPOSED to be blue, right..? Wait- Now they're- ...Is this a joke?" He began to stand up again, before that hand suddenly YANKED on his hair. A surprised yelp escaping from Luciano's mouth as he jerked his head back. "Wh- Hu- Ah- What the fuuuuck?" His eyes fluttered in absolute confusion as he tried to recover from the sudden shock of the attack. Looking as Ash began to walk away. "Are you GOOD?" Luciano asked, a bemused smile on his face as his hand lifted up to rub the side of his head.
will note Ash has dreadlocks, not braids. Pardon that!
Ash struggles, as their body refuses to listen, refuses to respond. If any of their body reacts to their desires, be it their eyes, their mouth, their expression - it speaks of absolute terror as they do their best to beg Luciano. "H-help... help me!" That's what they *attempt* to cry out... but their body is not theirs. Not any more. Though, it only reminds them that it never truly was, it's a mask that they wear. Though... they remember that they have their mind.
An illusion appears to Luciano, what attempts to be a chat bubble devolves into a cloud, the words meant to be a pastel shift of color that fits their personality instead devolving into a bloody, then black font far too similar to Chiller or a black metal font. It would probably be a bit goofy, silly, if it wasn't a product of their terrified mind.
Help me, Luca! I can't control my body! I'm... I'm trapped! I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped-
The illusion falls apart as the terror breaks their concentration.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, someone soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. someone feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, Ash's soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. someone feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, Ash's soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. Ash's feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Luciano stares in awe as the words flashed in front of his eyes, dropping the case of his rangefinder on the ground as he took a single step back. Leaning away as he carefully appraised the situation. Barring his teeth with a frown, his brow knitting as he let out a sigh of indecisive concern. "...Oh I'm about to feel -really- bad for doing this..." He uttered out under his breath. Digging his heel into the dirt as the man abruptly broke into a dead sprint. Calling out, "I'M SORRY!" towards Ash before trying to -tackle- them down. Leaping up and using his large frame as he threw his arms around their waist, attempting to drive them onto the ground to prevent them from running away. Lashing his hands out to try and control Ash's wrists so they couldn't get away.
Ash shrivels up inside, falling despondent even in the face of Luciano trying to save them, preventing whatever was going to happen... hopefully. 24 hours ago, they felt loved and warm, and probably would have continued struggling... but as the clocked ticked the night before, they were terrorized by their former firebreathing slavemaster, and the guilt of their sins bared to a friend, a sin they still feel guilt-ridden about, only a few months later.
No, by now, they've reverted more to a past self, one that feels like they deserved to be punished, that they're unworthy. Terror falls to despair, as they realize who this ghost is, and their past entraps them more than the possession and their friend Luciano's arms, both.
As Luciano manages to take them down, a sudden, unnatural calm seems to wash over Ash. The frantic energy that once consumed them dissipates, and their expression melts from one of sheer terror into something disturbingly serene, a smile that feels too calm, too unsettling. Their eyes lock with Luciano's, and for a moment, the silence stretches, thick and unnerving, as if the very world around them has held its breath. The calm is suffocating, and the longer Ash stares, the more it feels like something is lurking just beneath the surface, waiting.
Then, without warning, their head jerks to the side in a sudden, violent fit of nausea. Their body trembles, the calm shattering as quickly as it appeared. Ash gives a choking sound, their chest heaving before they abruptly retch. The violent expulsion is jarring, and when the sickness subsides, its not what anyone would expect. Instead of the usual signs of physical illness, only water pours from their mouth, clear, cold, and unnatural. The silence lingers for a moment before the voice, that deep, sinister tone, speaks again. "I should have remained here," it declares, its cold clarity cutting through the air. The words are unspoken by Ash this time, seeming to come from the very air around the two, before the robe-clad Darling feels some semblance of their own control return to their limbs.
Luciano immediately sprawls flat onto Ash, his training kicking in as he released their arms. Instead dragging them in the dirt in an attempt to hook them underneath theirs. Trying to place his hands on the back of their head. The expression on Luciano's face was a frown, his eyes darting from side to side. Clear discomfort across him as he tried to lift one of his long legs up. Using his strength and position to try and rise and stand up. Dragging Ash with them as he let out a groan, frustration mixed heavily with embarrassment tracing through the noise as he closed his eyes and cringed.
"Alright- Up you go... Get the FUCK out of my friend! Ti esorcizzer io stesso, demone!" The Italian barked in his native tongue. Keeping a loose grip so less pressure and discomfort were put upon Ash's form. Digging his heels into the ground as his boot tread bit into the frozen earth beneath him. His breathing getting heavier as he labored from his own sudden movements, his eyes darting about as a voice echo'd from the darkness. Leaning his head back as Ash began to vomit pure water onto the ground. His head jerking to the side as he looked away and closed his eyes. Nearly gagging himself as he bit back the urge to vomit from the sound alone.
Ash uses their freedom... simply to hang limp in Luciano's arms. They sob, after vomiting up as they murmur, "It should have been me... you had... so much more to live for... you were so bright...." They've already given up, not much of a fight, as the child's memory filters through their mind. But, at least, the ghost has obeyed Luciano, getting out of them... but, to what end? Is it gone?
A sharp, biting chill fills the air, so intense that it makes both Luciano and Ash visibly shiver. The temperature drops, each breath now visible in the oppressive cold, and the very atmosphere seems to grow heavier, like an unseen force pressing down upon them. The air feels thick, suffocating, as though the room itself is closing in.
Then, the voice, deep, velvety, and dripping with malevolent anticipation, whispers almost directly into Ash's ear, sending a shiver down their spine that has nothing to do with the cold. "Soon," it purrs, rich with dark promise. "Soon, we will trade places."
As swiftly as the night had turned horrific, the atmosphere shifts. The biting chill recedes, replaced by a sudden warmth that seems to envelop the room like a comforting embrace. The air becomes softer, more inviting, as if the night itself is trying to erase the tension and terror that had filled it moments before. Ash, still pinned beneath Luciano's weight, finds that their body is once again their own. The promise made by the voice in the night hangs heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the darkness that had nearly consumed them. "Soon, we will trade places." The words are no longer just a distant whisper, they are a warning, an ominous thread woven into the fabric of the night. The calm that has returned is only temporary, a brief respite before something far darker stirs once more.
Luciano instinctively flexed as that shiver coursed through his body, tightening his standing full-nelson on Ash as he shivered. Quickly releasing the tension again as he sucked wind through his clenched teeth. "Oop-" He mumbled out, exhaling sharply through his mouth as he listened to the spirit 'around' him continue to speak. Unwilling to release Ash as he listened to the unknown figure call out. Tilting his head slightly as he looked to Ash. "That uh... That you in there..?" The question was poised cautiously. His chest slowly rising and falling as he awaited a response.
Ash murmurs, sadly, "Yes... for now." They seem exhausted by the event, so quickly cut down where they were weak.
Ash snorts softly, drawling, "You really are a jester... sometimes, funny, as well." It's slight humor, as they try to find their feet.
Meanwhile, Ash invites Luciano over to share a quiet moment but finds themselves overwhelmed by an unseen force that takes control over their body and voice. In a terrifying display of possession, Ash's actions are dictated by something sinister, prompting desperate measures from Luciano to save them. As the story unfolds, the entity reveals its intention to trade places with Ash, threatening a more ominous future encounter. Despite the brief respite from the immediate danger, both Ash and Luciano are left to face the harsh reality of the supernatural threat lingering in the air, marking a dark and uncertain conclusion to their night. The story leaves us with a chilling reminder of the thin veil between our world and that of darker, unseen forces waiting on the fringe.
(Emmelline's odd encounter(SRSam):SRSam)
[Mon Dec 9 2024]
At a Sidewalk leading up to the ^Lodge^
A sturdy building made from old hardwood provides food and shelter for
visitors and locals alike. The exterior walls are well sealed logs while
the floors are reddish wooden panels that can be found throughout the
structure. Heavy beams crisscross overhead supporting lanterns that hang
low and provide light to the entrance.
It is night, about 41F(5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(Your target has been cursed with persecution, it is up to them to survive a world suddenly turned hostile until their allies can come and help get them to safety or deal with the curse.
)
Emmelline is just stepping out of the lodge onto the street, zipping up her coat as she heads towards her apple red car parked just nearby.
It is a relatively cold night, and as Emmelline exits the lodge, it is quiet.
Well, apart from a dog, who barks at her as she passes.
As Emmelline reaches her car, however, a trio of people are there, students, perhaps, shooting the proverbial shit. They don't seem to notice Emmelline, seemingly having used the car as a thing to lean against, despite the coldness around them.
Emmelline is actually distracted by the dog that barks as she passes, she pauses to look at the dog. "Aww puppy," she says with a smile, even if the animal is barking at her. She makes the little clicking noise with her tongue that most do when they see dogs. But soon, the cold makes her move on. And then she notices the three individuals there, leaning against her car and talking. "Excuse me," she says politely, as she holds the keys in one hand. "If you all could sort of... shift this convo along," she says, gesturing the individuals onwards, away from her car so she can get in.
The dog's ears flop backwards, and it bares it's teeth as Emmelline makes not a singular movement that should cause that. Perhaps it's a stray, perhaps bad experiences with human... likes.
"So anyway, then I s--" One of the three trails off, and perks an eyebrow. "Yeah?" A pause, and the other two look a little un-certainly at the man speaking, a guy in a neat suit, clearly well off. "Look, we'll just be a minute, all right?" He puts a glass down on the hood of the car, and continues. "Anyway. Sorry, that woman just made me lose track of what I was saying. Where was I?" Rude, beyond the pale, despite Emmelline's attempt to be pleasant about this.
Emmelline sighs as she runs a hand down her face. She is clearly not one for conflict, especially as it's just one of her, and three of them. She takes out her phone with her free hand. She puts the key tightly between her pointer and middle finger, reluctant to lose grip of it, as she texts. "Going to be late. Call me in say... five. If I don't answer, I'm at the carrot lodge." That done, and presumably her safety secured, she pockets the phone. Retaking the keys loosely in one hand. "Look people," she says, as she stands, looking unthreatening, "I get this might be the meeting of the united nations or something. But can we please just move this along? I mean the lodge is right there."
"Look, lady!" The leader of those delinquents... or just normal students. Whatever, acting like delinquents, turns to Emmelline again. "I already said. We'll just be a FUCKING minute, all right?" His voice raises some, as he glares at Emmelline. "I don't get why you gotta be so rude about it, like you said, the lodge is right there!" He huffs, not even turning back to his friends, who each just glare at Emmelline, like she just suggested to go kick some puppies.
Speaking of puppies, that dog slowly turns to Emmelline, haunches raised, and teeth bared as he growls low, keeping a distance, but certainly posturing.
The group is all in their twenties: One guy, who seems to be the leader, in a neat suit, brown hair waxed back, and looking a little preppy. A second one, likewise in her twenties, is a preppy sort of sorority girl, who clearly cares more about her make-up then her classes. The third one, kind of a weedy kid, in a wide hoodie, seems to be sort of floating along with the group, perhaps just happy to be included. They'd been gathered around the hood of the car, using it as a table of sorts, appearently to do late-night shots. The girl and the weedy kid are sort of starting to gather around the suited guy, with the girl still making her way around the front of the car. They do not seem, in any way supernatural, though it's hard to know for sure.
Emmelline who was so distracted by the dog before, now doesn't pay it any mind as it barks at her. Sighing, she makes her way to the back of the car, around to the driver's side, and hops in. Given they're all congregated towards the front. She starts the engine, and rolls the window down. "Look people, I'm really not one for conflict. But really, this is my car. So get those glasses off my hood, before I remove them all for you." her piece said, she rolls up her window, waiting to see what the group will do.
That weedy kid looks a little scared by that, and hurries to gather the glasses, but the suited man puts a hand on his arm, and shakes his head. "Kyle, no way are we moving just because she wants to threaten us." A greying man in his forties stands nearby, gasping as he seems to be calling someone. "Oh my god, Tony, for once, you're actually right to throw a fit!" The girl speaks, to the suited man.
Tony, the suited man, appearently, meanwhile, stands in front of Emmelline's car, and spreads his arms. "Okay, drive into me, then. See how my dad's lawyers deal with your hack from legal aide!" He spits on the hood of the car.
Emmelline sighs and shakes her head. "Really?," she mouthes, but doesn't speak. She doesn't run over the belligerent group. Instead, she backs the car up, and pulls it out onto the street. Causing whatever glasses that may have been remaining on the hood to fall off and shatter as she drives off. She doesn't even rise to it enough to flip them the bird, she just sighs and drives down the road.
Their attempts to cause problems stilled, the trio chases Emmelline's car a few blocks, shouting obscenities.
As Emmelline rides along the street, it is clear: Tonight is filled with absolute road-rage. As she drives to her next destination, everyone seems to be cutting her off, and generally just beeping their horn for any and no reason at all. It's a night of unpleasant behaviour, it seems. Then, after a few minutes or so of this, as abruptly as things turned unpleasant.... things just cease. Perhaps some days later, she might receive a citation, for reckless driving, or something such. But perhaps no police car has seen her car. Or maybe they don't know where she lives.
Regardless, the streets are back to normal. Well, as normal as it gets, in Haven, New England.
(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.
)
Ash just shifted back to their human phone to answer a text, as they look around the room with a discerning eye. As if they're planning on adjusting things, changing them around, to fit their style. Considering the view out of the window, they send a text to one of their friends, Luciano, that they've been chatting with on My Haven. 'Hey, wanna come over to the yard, show me some of those techniques? I'll take out my m24, I miss it.'
'Yeah, omw.' The text came back after a small delay. After a brief wait, Luciano pulled up in his beat up Mustang. Stepping out with a small, black pelican case. Lifting up his phone and quickly jotting down another message, 'Here, coming up now'. The man slid away his phone, looking around for a second to see if he could spot Ash.
The arrival of winter in Haven is marked by a stark, foreboding atmosphere. A scattering of dark storm clouds blankets the sky, intensifying the deep, inky darkness of the evening. As the year draws to a close, the cold sets in with a vengeance, sending the temperatures plummeting. A biting chill hangs heavily in the air, creeping through every crack and corner, and settling over the land like an uninvited guest. The crispness of the season seems to seep into the bones of all who remain, a constant reminder of the harsh days ahead as the world around them prepares for the long, unforgiving winter months.
As Ash types out a message, the evening unfolds in a way that seems utterly ordinary. A simple invitation to friends for a gathering at a new homewhat could be more fitting for the season? The final word is carefully typed into the screen, and with a tap of the send button, the message is delivered. But then, just as quickly, something unexpected happens. A sudden chill sweeps through the room, as if the very air had momentarily turned to ice. Its an eerie sensation, sharp and jarring, but just as quickly as it arrived, the cold fades, leaving behind an unsettling silence. The warmth of the room returns, but the faintest shiver lingers, as if something unseen has passed through the space.
The strange chill could easily be dismissed, just another odd moment in an otherwise routine evening. But something lingers, a subtle shift in the air that seems impossible to ignore. Almost instinctively, Ash's fingers move toward their braids, tracing the familiar beads that adorn thema comforting gesture, one that has always grounded them. But as they reach, something feels different. The usual calmness of the motion slips away, replaced by a jarring, uncontrollable force. Without warning, their fingers tighten, pulling at the braid with a sharp, painful tug that sends a stinging jolt through their scalp. The sensation is sudden and harsh, a jolt of raw discomfort that seems to have no clear cause. And just as quickly as it began, the strange grip releases, leaving only the lingering echo of the sensation, a cold, unsettling feeling that refuses to fully fade.
Ash frowns as their dreadlocks are tugged, rather than brushed back, frowning. They move, from the little cottage, out to the yard, shivering. Then, again, out front, where they find Luciano. Rather than greet him with a smile - or even get dressed properly, first - they ask him anxiously, "Hey, are my eyes blue?"
Luciano stops in his tracks as Ash comes out in nothing more than a robe and an assortment of jewelry. Squinting slightly at the out of place fanny pack, blinking rapidly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Shutting his eyes tightly, "Holy- Ash, give a guy a SECOND." He spoke aloud. Opening his eyes as they darted around the dark, a slight shiver coursing through the Italian's spine as the frigid winter reminded him of where exactly he was. "Uhhh... Lemme see..." Luciano leaned slightly forward, squinting slightly and adjusting his glasses, looking into Ash's eyes to discern if their eyes were any different from normal.
Ash apologizes sheeply, drawling, "Sorry... forgot that you couldn't see." Will o' wisps, living pastel flames, bloom into being around the underdressed twink, allowing Luciano a clearer view at their face. A bit magical, for sure... but they're on a dirt road in the woods, only a rustic cottage and trees behind them... the chance of unaware wandering through are slim.
Ash explains, "I know, I'm paranoid... but I had a weird moment, and... I don't want that to happen to me again...."
Another tug, this time more insistent, more forceful. Ash's hand moves with sudden, unnatural speed, their gaze snapping to Luciano. Without warning, their fingers tighten once more around the braid, pulling with an almost violent precision. But then, it doesnt stop there. In a fluid, disturbing motion, Ash's hand shifts, fingers darting with dexterous grace to Luciano's hair. The sharp tug they give is swift and deliberate, a harsh pull that seems to take on a life of its own. And just as quickly, their arm falls motionless at their side, as if the action had been taken from them entirely. The stillness that follows is heavy, the silence thick with something inexplicable, an unsettling calm that feels more like a lingering aftershock than the end of the disturbance.
Despite every effort to regain control, Ash feels their body slipping further from their command. Their feet begin to move on their own, dragging them backward, away from the present moment, toward the house. It's as if their own limbs are betraying them, acting of their own accord, no longer responding to their will.
Then, without warning, their lips part. What escapes isnt the usual soft words of Ash, but a cackling laugh, echoing through the room like the sound of something sinister rising from the depths. The laugh is deep, unsettling, far too rich in tone for Ash's usual voice, and it carries a malevolent energy, one that sends a chill creeping down the spine.
For a heartbeat, the room seems to freeze in time. The unnatural events fall silent, leaving only the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, and for a fleeting second, one might question if it was all merely a figment of their imagination. But the lingering sense of something amiss refuses to fade, leaving doubt in its wake, and the unsettling quiet feels more like a lull before the storm.
"Ooooo... Pretty lights... Preeeetty faaaaaaace..." Luciano coo'd out jokingly. Breaking into a smile as he stood back upright. "I'm--- Waitaminute." He leaned back in. Squinting even more as he looked into Ash's eyes... "...Tttttttthey're SUPPOSED to be blue, right..? Wait- Now they're- ...Is this a joke?" He began to stand up again, before that hand suddenly YANKED on his hair. A surprised yelp escaping from Luciano's mouth as he jerked his head back. "Wh- Hu- Ah- What the fuuuuck?" His eyes fluttered in absolute confusion as he tried to recover from the sudden shock of the attack. Looking as Ash began to walk away. "Are you GOOD?" Luciano asked, a bemused smile on his face as his hand lifted up to rub the side of his head.
will note Ash has dreadlocks, not braids. Pardon that!
Ash struggles, as their body refuses to listen, refuses to respond. If any of their body reacts to their desires, be it their eyes, their mouth, their expression - it speaks of absolute terror as they do their best to beg Luciano. "H-help... help me!" That's what they *attempt* to cry out... but their body is not theirs. Not any more. Though, it only reminds them that it never truly was, it's a mask that they wear. Though... they remember that they have their mind.
An illusion appears to Luciano, what attempts to be a chat bubble devolves into a cloud, the words meant to be a pastel shift of color that fits their personality instead devolving into a bloody, then black font far too similar to Chiller or a black metal font. It would probably be a bit goofy, silly, if it wasn't a product of their terrified mind.
Help me, Luca! I can't control my body! I'm... I'm trapped! I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped I'm trapped-
The illusion falls apart as the terror breaks their concentration.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, someone soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. someone feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, Ash's soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. someone feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Ash's fear seems to feed the strange happenings, as if the terror itself amplifies the unseen force controlling them. If Luciano had harbored any lingering doubt about Ash's well being, it shatters in an instant, the illusion of normalcy slipping away completely. Their face contorts into an expression of raw agony, muscles pulling taut in a grotesque display of torment, evident, written across their features, yet theres something else, something chilling, that stands in stark contrast to this. Their eyes, wide and frantic, retain a flicker of recognition, a desperate plea for help. The familiar hue of their eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting flash of something darker, but the terror in their gaze is unmistakable, a flicker of humanity that refuses to be completely lost.
Like a puppet with its strings pulled, Ash's soft, plush lips part once more, and again, the voice that escapes them is not their own. Its deeper, darker, and more menacing than anything Ash has ever spoken. "They left me!" the voice booms, vibrating the air with its unsettling power. "Left me, and continued on." The words hang in the air, heavy with a bitter resentment, as if they've been waiting to be said for far too long. Ash's feet, still moving of their own accord, carry them relentlessly closer to the house, closer to something within. Each step is purposeful, as though the very ground beneath them is guiding them toward an unknown end. "They will see. They will all see," the voice continues, the words dripping with a sinister promise.
Luciano stares in awe as the words flashed in front of his eyes, dropping the case of his rangefinder on the ground as he took a single step back. Leaning away as he carefully appraised the situation. Barring his teeth with a frown, his brow knitting as he let out a sigh of indecisive concern. "...Oh I'm about to feel -really- bad for doing this..." He uttered out under his breath. Digging his heel into the dirt as the man abruptly broke into a dead sprint. Calling out, "I'M SORRY!" towards Ash before trying to -tackle- them down. Leaping up and using his large frame as he threw his arms around their waist, attempting to drive them onto the ground to prevent them from running away. Lashing his hands out to try and control Ash's wrists so they couldn't get away.
Ash shrivels up inside, falling despondent even in the face of Luciano trying to save them, preventing whatever was going to happen... hopefully. 24 hours ago, they felt loved and warm, and probably would have continued struggling... but as the clocked ticked the night before, they were terrorized by their former firebreathing slavemaster, and the guilt of their sins bared to a friend, a sin they still feel guilt-ridden about, only a few months later.
No, by now, they've reverted more to a past self, one that feels like they deserved to be punished, that they're unworthy. Terror falls to despair, as they realize who this ghost is, and their past entraps them more than the possession and their friend Luciano's arms, both.
As Luciano manages to take them down, a sudden, unnatural calm seems to wash over Ash. The frantic energy that once consumed them dissipates, and their expression melts from one of sheer terror into something disturbingly serene, a smile that feels too calm, too unsettling. Their eyes lock with Luciano's, and for a moment, the silence stretches, thick and unnerving, as if the very world around them has held its breath. The calm is suffocating, and the longer Ash stares, the more it feels like something is lurking just beneath the surface, waiting.
Then, without warning, their head jerks to the side in a sudden, violent fit of nausea. Their body trembles, the calm shattering as quickly as it appeared. Ash gives a choking sound, their chest heaving before they abruptly retch. The violent expulsion is jarring, and when the sickness subsides, its not what anyone would expect. Instead of the usual signs of physical illness, only water pours from their mouth, clear, cold, and unnatural. The silence lingers for a moment before the voice, that deep, sinister tone, speaks again. "I should have remained here," it declares, its cold clarity cutting through the air. The words are unspoken by Ash this time, seeming to come from the very air around the two, before the robe-clad Darling feels some semblance of their own control return to their limbs.
Luciano immediately sprawls flat onto Ash, his training kicking in as he released their arms. Instead dragging them in the dirt in an attempt to hook them underneath theirs. Trying to place his hands on the back of their head. The expression on Luciano's face was a frown, his eyes darting from side to side. Clear discomfort across him as he tried to lift one of his long legs up. Using his strength and position to try and rise and stand up. Dragging Ash with them as he let out a groan, frustration mixed heavily with embarrassment tracing through the noise as he closed his eyes and cringed.
"Alright- Up you go... Get the FUCK out of my friend! Ti esorcizzer io stesso, demone!" The Italian barked in his native tongue. Keeping a loose grip so less pressure and discomfort were put upon Ash's form. Digging his heels into the ground as his boot tread bit into the frozen earth beneath him. His breathing getting heavier as he labored from his own sudden movements, his eyes darting about as a voice echo'd from the darkness. Leaning his head back as Ash began to vomit pure water onto the ground. His head jerking to the side as he looked away and closed his eyes. Nearly gagging himself as he bit back the urge to vomit from the sound alone.
Ash uses their freedom... simply to hang limp in Luciano's arms. They sob, after vomiting up as they murmur, "It should have been me... you had... so much more to live for... you were so bright...." They've already given up, not much of a fight, as the child's memory filters through their mind. But, at least, the ghost has obeyed Luciano, getting out of them... but, to what end? Is it gone?
A sharp, biting chill fills the air, so intense that it makes both Luciano and Ash visibly shiver. The temperature drops, each breath now visible in the oppressive cold, and the very atmosphere seems to grow heavier, like an unseen force pressing down upon them. The air feels thick, suffocating, as though the room itself is closing in.
Then, the voice, deep, velvety, and dripping with malevolent anticipation, whispers almost directly into Ash's ear, sending a shiver down their spine that has nothing to do with the cold. "Soon," it purrs, rich with dark promise. "Soon, we will trade places."
As swiftly as the night had turned horrific, the atmosphere shifts. The biting chill recedes, replaced by a sudden warmth that seems to envelop the room like a comforting embrace. The air becomes softer, more inviting, as if the night itself is trying to erase the tension and terror that had filled it moments before. Ash, still pinned beneath Luciano's weight, finds that their body is once again their own. The promise made by the voice in the night hangs heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the darkness that had nearly consumed them. "Soon, we will trade places." The words are no longer just a distant whisper, they are a warning, an ominous thread woven into the fabric of the night. The calm that has returned is only temporary, a brief respite before something far darker stirs once more.
Luciano instinctively flexed as that shiver coursed through his body, tightening his standing full-nelson on Ash as he shivered. Quickly releasing the tension again as he sucked wind through his clenched teeth. "Oop-" He mumbled out, exhaling sharply through his mouth as he listened to the spirit 'around' him continue to speak. Unwilling to release Ash as he listened to the unknown figure call out. Tilting his head slightly as he looked to Ash. "That uh... That you in there..?" The question was poised cautiously. His chest slowly rising and falling as he awaited a response.
Ash murmurs, sadly, "Yes... for now." They seem exhausted by the event, so quickly cut down where they were weak.
Ash snorts softly, drawling, "You really are a jester... sometimes, funny, as well." It's slight humor, as they try to find their feet.