Encounterlogs
Harriets Odd Encounter Sr Savannah 250107
Harriet, a Warden of the Order, finds herself in a perilous situation when she is ambushed by members of an opposing faction on Forest Ridge Road. In the moments following a violent encounter, as she is about to leave the scene in her Aston Martin, a dart strikes her, delivering a potent drug that soon renders her unconscious. Harriet's attempt to call for help is her last conscious act before she is kidnapped and taken to an unknown location. Upon regaining consciousness, she discovers herself in a grim situation: stripped down to her underwear, bound to a chair with her supernatural powers being drained, and immersed in a scenario straight out of a chilling interrogation scene. Harriet faces her captors with resilience, even as she struggles against the cold and the effects of the drug, showing the spirit of a true leader under duress.
The interrogation conducted by the captors, a masked man and two accompanying women, quickly unfolds as a mix of intimidation and confusion. They inaccurately accuse Harriet of stealing a mysterious box, a claim she contests with clarity despite her dire state. The tension escalates with threats of violence and misunderstandings within the captor group, primarily fueled by jealousy and incompetence. Just as the situation appears to be worsening, a sudden and dramatic rescue operation takes place. Harriet's allies manage to locate and retrieve her from the clutches of her captors. The rescue, marked by a flash that blinds everyone momentarily, leads to Harriet being freed, promptly attended to by her people who assure her safety. In the midst of chaos, Harriet's ordeal ends with her being whisked away from the bleak setting, signifying not only a physical but also a moral victory against her adversaries.
(Harriet's odd encounter(SRSavannah):SRSavannah)
[Mon Jan 6 2025]
On Forest Ridge Road
A rugged dirt road carves its way through the dense woodlands. It is barely wide enough for two vehicles and is bordered by trees that form a dense canopy. Roots and rocks occasionally jut through its surface, and whenever the wind blows through the thick woods, you are surrounded by the rich scent of earth and vegetation. During the day, rays of sunlight break through the foliage, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. At night, the road is bathed in utter darkness, with the sounds of the forest creating a haunting atmosphere.
It is afternoon, about 21F(-6C) degrees,
(Your target has been picked up by members of an opposing faction or subfaction keen to get some intelligence from them. While the villains must abide by the understanding they will work their hardest to get the information, your target must resist for long enough or throw them off the trail for their allies to arrive and help get them out.
)
Harriet looks like she just partook in some kind of violent situation. There is some blood sprayed across her clothing, as well as her face, and she's got beads of sweat above her brow. She's just placed some weapons in the back seat of her Aston Martin, and then gives a glance about the area after. Once everything seems all right, she checks her phone.
It seems like the leader of the Order was out doing something violent, but as the woman packs her things into her fancy car and begins to check her phone, this is when something strikes. It happens to everyone in town at some point when they are here, a well placed dart, someone poking them in a crowded street, either way, people often find themselves waking up in an odd spot a while later and while Harriet is not unconscious immediately, that distraction of her phone allows just enough time for a solid shot of that dart which lodges itself into her neck to let her know that something bad is about to happen. She would feel the drugs effects immediately, narrowing vision, blurring edges, sluggishness, it is beginning to take hold, she only has a few precious moments to do something with her time left conscious.
This Warden has the worst luck when it comes to things like this. In fact, this is the second time in a few days Harriet has received a dart to her elegant neck. One second she's swiping off a text, the next she's suddenly swaying as if she is suffering from a case of vertigo as everything starts to fade away. A wince can be heard, but she's stumbling and falling forward against the side of her vehicle. Her hazel eyes begin to roll in the back of her head as she uses the last of her awareness to send 'help' at the end of her text, and to press the little 'send' key that is shaped like a right-facing arrow on the pristine screen of her smartphone. Then... she's slumping, slowly collapsing to her knees, and soon after is in a huddled bunch on the ground, out cold.
Those darts come in handy against the Warden of the Order, and when she slumps over, at least she was able to send help to her phone and likely people were already tracing the activity on it. It was left behind for now as people came out of the sides of the area she was parked and begin to scoop her up. They are quick to load the elegant woman into a van nearby, and with doors slamming closed, skid off into the road to drive her somewhere, at least to her unknown. When she wakes, she has been thoroughly searched, and stripped down to her underwear. They at least have the decency to keep her having some clothing on, but you never know where people keep weapons and things to aid them in this town. She is strapped to a chair, and her feet are in a bucket of water. There seem to be some cables attached to the edge of the bucket as well, clamped down like two battery cables and with her posture ever so straight, her neck is collared to the chair as well, the room is dark right now, the only light filtering under the door itself, metal, everything is made to keep someone like her, unable to escape. That collar attached to the chair and her neck seems quite familiar as well, draining the power of the supernatural from her body.
Harriet likely hates those darts. They seem to be highly attracted to her, but at least she's not nude during this abduction. That's twice in a row, now. Perhaps things are actually looking up for her when you view it from that perspective. She's like a rag doll as she's carried by strangers and loaded up into the van. There were no weapons on her, as she's just unloaded them into her back seat, so nothing interesting to find, unless they searched her car -- there is literally a landmine inside, of all things. Perhaps not the safest thing to have as a passenger in your car, but even landmines end up needing to be transported at some point. How else are you going to blow something up that isn't in your home? As she comes to, her vision is hazy, as are her thoughts, and she's mumbling something incomprehensible as eyelids lift and make-up free lashes flutter. A tired sounding sigh escapes her mouth right after as the world around her slowly becomes more clear. This is when she's aware of the buckets that her feet are in, and also when her hazel eyes are widening because she's noticing the cables, because despite the dark, she can see remarkably well. Stifling an obscenity, the tall brunette trembles some as her body stiffens and she's noticing the weakness that is occurring, but she doesn't attempt to fight her bonds, clearly aware she's trapped at the moment.
There are footsteps outside of the room now, and the shadows of people walking and the low murmur of discussion happening before the door finally swings open and the coldness of this place is revealed. There is a gush of air that washes over the room as well as the light, blinding from being passed out and in the darkness until now, that night vision assisting her in seeing in the mostly dim light, but now the wash of wind and cold with brightness is a sensation overload considering her lightly attired self. The coldness of the water now noticed even more, her feet growing a little numb, the tingling sensation of pin prickles at her toes. A man in a mask strides into the room, flanked by two women and one of the women says, "Yuh-huh. That's her." The accent is noticeable country, maybe these are forest people or the sorts that live in trailer parks. The man looks towards someone, approaching her and says, "Missy, yer gowna tell us everythin' we needs ta know, know why? Cause if'n you ain't doin' that, we goin' fuck you up." At least they don't beat around the bush here.
There are footsteps outside of the room now, and the shadows of people walking and the low murmur of discussion happening before the door finally swings open and the coldness of this place is revealed. There is a gush of air that washes over the room as well as the light, blinding from being passed out and in the darkness until now, that night vision assisting her in seeing in the mostly dim light, but now the wash of wind and cold with brightness is a sensation overload considering her lightly attired self. The coldness of the water now noticed even more, her feet growing a little numb, the tingling sensation of pin prickles at her toes. A man in a mask strides into the room, flanked by two women and one of the women says, "Yuh-huh. That's her." The accent is noticeable country, maybe these are forest people or the sorts that live in trailer parks. The man looks towards Harriet, approaching her and says, "Missy, yer gowna tell us everythin' we needs ta know, know why? Cause if'n you ain't doin' that, we goin' fuck you up." At least they don't beat around the bush here.
Footsteps are sometimes hope-filled sounds, and at other times they bring along with them dread. In this moment, Harriet isn't sure what to think of the approach, but she doesn't have to wait long to figure out her feelings about the act. As she's hit with the air, her skin prickles with goosebumps, even beneath her clothing, and she's suddenly feeling like she's freezing. Teeth chatter, as cold is not her friend due to her bloodline, and as she shudders and shivers her attention shifts to the strangers who are in the room with her now. "Mm," comes out in a confirming hum of understanding past numbed lips. "Ask away," she encourages. "I do prefer not to be 'fucked up,' if I'm being honest."
"Hadda convince Churyl here, not to be strippin' you fully, she thinks you too pretty fer yer own good," says the masked man, like he did Harriet a favor in all of this. So maybe he is good cop and Churyl is bad cop. The woman steps up closer to Harriet while she is strapped down and says, motivationally, "Yuh!" These might sounds like amateurs and this might look like a metal shack in the forest somewhere, cold air still rushing into the open doorway. They're dressed warm at least, but it doesn't help the woman strapped down as she prickles all over. The man seems to have some relative control of the other two in the room with her and he continues, "Where didja take eeit? We know yur knowin' where eeit is..." What is it? He doesn't specify like, Harriet should know.
With the masked being revealed as the probably-good-cop, Harriet listens to what he has to say. There isn't much else for her to do, being a bound victim who is suffering from the low temperatures on top of the device that is literally sucking the life right out of her lithe, shivering form. There is a pause as she tries to decide if Churyl wanting to see her naked is a compliment or not, based on her facial expression and the way she's eying the otherwise unknown woman. "Thank you..." comes out softly through her still clattering teeth, to both the masked man and Churyl, but she sounds like she's wary. A thanks to getting to keep her clothes on, and a gracious response to being considered attractive. There's confusion etching across her face when she's questioned, though. "Where did I take what?" gets asked with the utmost honesty, sounding like she has no clue as to what 'eeit' could be. "If you tell me what it is, I will tell you what I know."
Churyl begins to speak now, "See, Tommy! The shit-don't-stink bitch just thinks she's better'n us!" She might have a point, Harriet might think she is better than Churyl, and as the woman goes around behind her she asks, "Can I shock'er?" Tommy looks to Churyl with one of those exhausted looks, like just putting up with her is enough to drive anyone crazy, "Jesus fuckin' tapdancin' Christ, Churyl! First'n you want to not even have any common sense decency with strippin' her down and now yur wantin' to shock'er! She ain't as purty as yur're, ain't nothin' to worry 'bout." That is a lie. Even if you can't see Churyl's face, you can tell. The man moves closer to focus on Harriet and says, "Look, yur done took somethin' of ours'n we ain't lettin' you go until we figure out where it is, simple... it was a box, 'bout..." He reaches to her shoulders to grab the bare skin there, "Yay wide... bigger'n..." He leans back and makes another gesture, "Fancy symbol onna outside..."
Harriet remains there, because what else can she do? she's weakened and freezing, and at the mercy of these other two. Nostrils flare as she takes in the initial response of Churyl, though, as her limbs vibrate and she swallows thickly. "There are actually some supplements you can take to eliminate all kinds of odours," she helpfully relays, taking that statement quite literally, but as Tommy is is getting frustrated, she's shutting up herself for the moment, and waits until she is addressed once again. The missing box being described does not seem to ring a bell, and her eyebrows furrow as eyes narrow. Her head shakes a little as she expresses, "I have not seen a box like that. I was gifted a box, as most of the town was, a few weeks about by a Sophie Wilson? Inside was an invitation to the Aurora Borealis Ball? Did you not receive an invitation?"
"Dangit, Churyl, she ain't know shit about shit! Didja point 'er out just cuz you ain't like her?" Tommy asks Churyl now, getting into this brief argument with her. It seems like Churyl might just be jealous of Harriet or women like her, intelligent, in charge. They bicker back and forth like some married couple but as they are doing that, tires are heard screeching to a halt, and soon, the metal shed itself shakes and quakes and in comes something that flashes brightly enough to blind everyone in the room for a few moments and in a rush, everything is changing. There are hands grabbing and unlocking Harriet from the chair, people cursing and shouting and she can feel herself in open air, being whisked away and stuffed into the back of a vehicle that is already moving. Shouts, screeching tires, smashing objects and soon, relative quiet, even if her head is ringing. It seems like her people might have her now, because they're already wrapping something around her to keep her warm, "We got you, Warden, we got you..."
Harriet shifts a bit. It's very little, given the fact that she's still bound, but she's doing her best to get comfortable despite her situation, still shivering away. Right now she's a very chilled woman with her feet in buckets of water and her teeth still chattering away. As Tommy and Churyl argue, the tall brunette remains quiet. Hazel eyes dart back and forth between the two and then roam about the interior of the room, taking it in, but... then the unpleasantness of an explosion catches her off guard and her eyes close very tightly. She's rescued, and entirely relieved. "Thank you," comes her reply, heavily spoken through her still shivering.
The interrogation conducted by the captors, a masked man and two accompanying women, quickly unfolds as a mix of intimidation and confusion. They inaccurately accuse Harriet of stealing a mysterious box, a claim she contests with clarity despite her dire state. The tension escalates with threats of violence and misunderstandings within the captor group, primarily fueled by jealousy and incompetence. Just as the situation appears to be worsening, a sudden and dramatic rescue operation takes place. Harriet's allies manage to locate and retrieve her from the clutches of her captors. The rescue, marked by a flash that blinds everyone momentarily, leads to Harriet being freed, promptly attended to by her people who assure her safety. In the midst of chaos, Harriet's ordeal ends with her being whisked away from the bleak setting, signifying not only a physical but also a moral victory against her adversaries.
(Harriet's odd encounter(SRSavannah):SRSavannah)
[Mon Jan 6 2025]
On Forest Ridge Road
A rugged dirt road carves its way through the dense woodlands. It is barely wide enough for two vehicles and is bordered by trees that form a dense canopy. Roots and rocks occasionally jut through its surface, and whenever the wind blows through the thick woods, you are surrounded by the rich scent of earth and vegetation. During the day, rays of sunlight break through the foliage, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. At night, the road is bathed in utter darkness, with the sounds of the forest creating a haunting atmosphere.
It is afternoon, about 21F(-6C) degrees,
(Your target has been picked up by members of an opposing faction or subfaction keen to get some intelligence from them. While the villains must abide by the understanding they will work their hardest to get the information, your target must resist for long enough or throw them off the trail for their allies to arrive and help get them out.
)
Harriet looks like she just partook in some kind of violent situation. There is some blood sprayed across her clothing, as well as her face, and she's got beads of sweat above her brow. She's just placed some weapons in the back seat of her Aston Martin, and then gives a glance about the area after. Once everything seems all right, she checks her phone.
It seems like the leader of the Order was out doing something violent, but as the woman packs her things into her fancy car and begins to check her phone, this is when something strikes. It happens to everyone in town at some point when they are here, a well placed dart, someone poking them in a crowded street, either way, people often find themselves waking up in an odd spot a while later and while Harriet is not unconscious immediately, that distraction of her phone allows just enough time for a solid shot of that dart which lodges itself into her neck to let her know that something bad is about to happen. She would feel the drugs effects immediately, narrowing vision, blurring edges, sluggishness, it is beginning to take hold, she only has a few precious moments to do something with her time left conscious.
This Warden has the worst luck when it comes to things like this. In fact, this is the second time in a few days Harriet has received a dart to her elegant neck. One second she's swiping off a text, the next she's suddenly swaying as if she is suffering from a case of vertigo as everything starts to fade away. A wince can be heard, but she's stumbling and falling forward against the side of her vehicle. Her hazel eyes begin to roll in the back of her head as she uses the last of her awareness to send 'help' at the end of her text, and to press the little 'send' key that is shaped like a right-facing arrow on the pristine screen of her smartphone. Then... she's slumping, slowly collapsing to her knees, and soon after is in a huddled bunch on the ground, out cold.
Those darts come in handy against the Warden of the Order, and when she slumps over, at least she was able to send help to her phone and likely people were already tracing the activity on it. It was left behind for now as people came out of the sides of the area she was parked and begin to scoop her up. They are quick to load the elegant woman into a van nearby, and with doors slamming closed, skid off into the road to drive her somewhere, at least to her unknown. When she wakes, she has been thoroughly searched, and stripped down to her underwear. They at least have the decency to keep her having some clothing on, but you never know where people keep weapons and things to aid them in this town. She is strapped to a chair, and her feet are in a bucket of water. There seem to be some cables attached to the edge of the bucket as well, clamped down like two battery cables and with her posture ever so straight, her neck is collared to the chair as well, the room is dark right now, the only light filtering under the door itself, metal, everything is made to keep someone like her, unable to escape. That collar attached to the chair and her neck seems quite familiar as well, draining the power of the supernatural from her body.
Harriet likely hates those darts. They seem to be highly attracted to her, but at least she's not nude during this abduction. That's twice in a row, now. Perhaps things are actually looking up for her when you view it from that perspective. She's like a rag doll as she's carried by strangers and loaded up into the van. There were no weapons on her, as she's just unloaded them into her back seat, so nothing interesting to find, unless they searched her car -- there is literally a landmine inside, of all things. Perhaps not the safest thing to have as a passenger in your car, but even landmines end up needing to be transported at some point. How else are you going to blow something up that isn't in your home? As she comes to, her vision is hazy, as are her thoughts, and she's mumbling something incomprehensible as eyelids lift and make-up free lashes flutter. A tired sounding sigh escapes her mouth right after as the world around her slowly becomes more clear. This is when she's aware of the buckets that her feet are in, and also when her hazel eyes are widening because she's noticing the cables, because despite the dark, she can see remarkably well. Stifling an obscenity, the tall brunette trembles some as her body stiffens and she's noticing the weakness that is occurring, but she doesn't attempt to fight her bonds, clearly aware she's trapped at the moment.
There are footsteps outside of the room now, and the shadows of people walking and the low murmur of discussion happening before the door finally swings open and the coldness of this place is revealed. There is a gush of air that washes over the room as well as the light, blinding from being passed out and in the darkness until now, that night vision assisting her in seeing in the mostly dim light, but now the wash of wind and cold with brightness is a sensation overload considering her lightly attired self. The coldness of the water now noticed even more, her feet growing a little numb, the tingling sensation of pin prickles at her toes. A man in a mask strides into the room, flanked by two women and one of the women says, "Yuh-huh. That's her." The accent is noticeable country, maybe these are forest people or the sorts that live in trailer parks. The man looks towards someone, approaching her and says, "Missy, yer gowna tell us everythin' we needs ta know, know why? Cause if'n you ain't doin' that, we goin' fuck you up." At least they don't beat around the bush here.
There are footsteps outside of the room now, and the shadows of people walking and the low murmur of discussion happening before the door finally swings open and the coldness of this place is revealed. There is a gush of air that washes over the room as well as the light, blinding from being passed out and in the darkness until now, that night vision assisting her in seeing in the mostly dim light, but now the wash of wind and cold with brightness is a sensation overload considering her lightly attired self. The coldness of the water now noticed even more, her feet growing a little numb, the tingling sensation of pin prickles at her toes. A man in a mask strides into the room, flanked by two women and one of the women says, "Yuh-huh. That's her." The accent is noticeable country, maybe these are forest people or the sorts that live in trailer parks. The man looks towards Harriet, approaching her and says, "Missy, yer gowna tell us everythin' we needs ta know, know why? Cause if'n you ain't doin' that, we goin' fuck you up." At least they don't beat around the bush here.
Footsteps are sometimes hope-filled sounds, and at other times they bring along with them dread. In this moment, Harriet isn't sure what to think of the approach, but she doesn't have to wait long to figure out her feelings about the act. As she's hit with the air, her skin prickles with goosebumps, even beneath her clothing, and she's suddenly feeling like she's freezing. Teeth chatter, as cold is not her friend due to her bloodline, and as she shudders and shivers her attention shifts to the strangers who are in the room with her now. "Mm," comes out in a confirming hum of understanding past numbed lips. "Ask away," she encourages. "I do prefer not to be 'fucked up,' if I'm being honest."
"Hadda convince Churyl here, not to be strippin' you fully, she thinks you too pretty fer yer own good," says the masked man, like he did Harriet a favor in all of this. So maybe he is good cop and Churyl is bad cop. The woman steps up closer to Harriet while she is strapped down and says, motivationally, "Yuh!" These might sounds like amateurs and this might look like a metal shack in the forest somewhere, cold air still rushing into the open doorway. They're dressed warm at least, but it doesn't help the woman strapped down as she prickles all over. The man seems to have some relative control of the other two in the room with her and he continues, "Where didja take eeit? We know yur knowin' where eeit is..." What is it? He doesn't specify like, Harriet should know.
With the masked being revealed as the probably-good-cop, Harriet listens to what he has to say. There isn't much else for her to do, being a bound victim who is suffering from the low temperatures on top of the device that is literally sucking the life right out of her lithe, shivering form. There is a pause as she tries to decide if Churyl wanting to see her naked is a compliment or not, based on her facial expression and the way she's eying the otherwise unknown woman. "Thank you..." comes out softly through her still clattering teeth, to both the masked man and Churyl, but she sounds like she's wary. A thanks to getting to keep her clothes on, and a gracious response to being considered attractive. There's confusion etching across her face when she's questioned, though. "Where did I take what?" gets asked with the utmost honesty, sounding like she has no clue as to what 'eeit' could be. "If you tell me what it is, I will tell you what I know."
Churyl begins to speak now, "See, Tommy! The shit-don't-stink bitch just thinks she's better'n us!" She might have a point, Harriet might think she is better than Churyl, and as the woman goes around behind her she asks, "Can I shock'er?" Tommy looks to Churyl with one of those exhausted looks, like just putting up with her is enough to drive anyone crazy, "Jesus fuckin' tapdancin' Christ, Churyl! First'n you want to not even have any common sense decency with strippin' her down and now yur wantin' to shock'er! She ain't as purty as yur're, ain't nothin' to worry 'bout." That is a lie. Even if you can't see Churyl's face, you can tell. The man moves closer to focus on Harriet and says, "Look, yur done took somethin' of ours'n we ain't lettin' you go until we figure out where it is, simple... it was a box, 'bout..." He reaches to her shoulders to grab the bare skin there, "Yay wide... bigger'n..." He leans back and makes another gesture, "Fancy symbol onna outside..."
Harriet remains there, because what else can she do? she's weakened and freezing, and at the mercy of these other two. Nostrils flare as she takes in the initial response of Churyl, though, as her limbs vibrate and she swallows thickly. "There are actually some supplements you can take to eliminate all kinds of odours," she helpfully relays, taking that statement quite literally, but as Tommy is is getting frustrated, she's shutting up herself for the moment, and waits until she is addressed once again. The missing box being described does not seem to ring a bell, and her eyebrows furrow as eyes narrow. Her head shakes a little as she expresses, "I have not seen a box like that. I was gifted a box, as most of the town was, a few weeks about by a Sophie Wilson? Inside was an invitation to the Aurora Borealis Ball? Did you not receive an invitation?"
"Dangit, Churyl, she ain't know shit about shit! Didja point 'er out just cuz you ain't like her?" Tommy asks Churyl now, getting into this brief argument with her. It seems like Churyl might just be jealous of Harriet or women like her, intelligent, in charge. They bicker back and forth like some married couple but as they are doing that, tires are heard screeching to a halt, and soon, the metal shed itself shakes and quakes and in comes something that flashes brightly enough to blind everyone in the room for a few moments and in a rush, everything is changing. There are hands grabbing and unlocking Harriet from the chair, people cursing and shouting and she can feel herself in open air, being whisked away and stuffed into the back of a vehicle that is already moving. Shouts, screeching tires, smashing objects and soon, relative quiet, even if her head is ringing. It seems like her people might have her now, because they're already wrapping something around her to keep her warm, "We got you, Warden, we got you..."
Harriet shifts a bit. It's very little, given the fact that she's still bound, but she's doing her best to get comfortable despite her situation, still shivering away. Right now she's a very chilled woman with her feet in buckets of water and her teeth still chattering away. As Tommy and Churyl argue, the tall brunette remains quiet. Hazel eyes dart back and forth between the two and then roam about the interior of the room, taking it in, but... then the unpleasantness of an explosion catches her off guard and her eyes close very tightly. She's rescued, and entirely relieved. "Thank you," comes her reply, heavily spoken through her still shivering.