Encounterlogs
Jordans Odd Encounter Sr Fayad 240715
In an eerie and unsettling encounter within the cavernous depths of an intricate library, Jordan Andromeda Corcosa Nova Ellis found themselves in the clutches of a sinister vampire, intent on using them as a bargaining chip to secure an escape from an imminent threat. The tension escalated as Jordan, despite their initial fear and efforts to call for help using their phone, was met with aggression and violence, leading to a desperate and bruising confrontation. In a moment of sheer terror and helplessness, Jordan attempted to communicate with their captor, only to be met with further violence, leaving them bruised, scared, and pleading for an end to their ordeal.
The situation took a turning point with the arrival of Doctor Jill Crest, whose calm demeanor and quick thinking became a beacon of hope. Identifying the tense hostage situation, Jill negotiated with the vampire with a blend of courage and wit, leveraging a mystical bone compass as a means to provide the vampire with a route to escape in exchange for Jordan's safety. Despite the palpable fear and threats, Jill's offer of guidance to a safer place for the vampire, paired with the assurance of harmlessness towards Jordan, allowed for a resolution whereby the vampire took the offered escape route, leaving Jordan in the care of Jill. Jill's medical assessment and offer of help to a visibly shaken and injured Jordan not only showcased her dedication to care but also hinted at the complexities and dangers lurking within their world, leaving an indelible mark on both of their lives.
(Jordan's odd encounter(SRFayad):SRFayad)
[Sun Jul 14 2024]
In the southern shelves
Rows of towering bookcases stand sentry here, their intricate wooden carvings and ornate designs adding an air of scholarly reverence to the expansive space. Soft, diffused lighting bathes the area in a warm, inviting glow, casting delicate shadows that dance along the weathered spines of the aging tomes and well-preserved manuscripts. The faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood mingles with the subtle aroma of leather bindings, creating a rich olfactory atmosphere.
It is morning, about 96F(35C) degrees,
(Your target has been abducted and is being held hostage by a supernatural criminal out to trade them for something or just use them as a shield against the factions. Your target must attempt to find a way to escape, or simply survive until they can be rescued by their allies.
)
As Jordan moves through the stacks, a looming air of unease makes its way through their senses. The hair on the back of Jordan's neck rises up, and then the lights suddenly go out. With the absence of the humming of fluorescent lights, all that's left in the morning is the sweltering heat and a growing feeling of doom.
Jordan looks around with concern, stopping in their tracks and reaching out with their hands to find the shelves and walls in reach. Their eyes are sightless before they adjust.
Jordan says "Hello? "
Jordan crouches down, making themself smaller, and wrapping their arms around their knees as they lean against the shelves.
As Jordan's voice echoes out into the remote section of the Institute library, Jordan suddenly realises that it's far too muffled - something's there in front of him. A huge, hairy palm lashes out to envelop Jordan's face with inhuman strength, an anthropoid creature grasping Jordan and dragging Jordan back into one of the corners, heedless to noise or the consequences to Jordan's legs from hitting shelving on the way.
Jordan struggles, trying to scream and kick at the shelving and chairs - then falling limp after a solid moment, hoping to slip out.
"You're gonna shut the fuck up, gayboy," a gravelly hiss booms down to Jordan. The grip around Jordan's face shifts, to a shoulder, Jordan dragged up to their feet and held as if a human shield. Whoever is holding Jordan appears to be quite literally hiding in the corner as if expecting to be shot. Jordan feels no heartbeat from the wall of muscle Jordan's pressed up against.
Jordan taps on their phone while squirming one last time as a distraction. The benefit of a physical keyboard shines in this moment, and the muffled sound likely makes it silent to hear. If a message can even get through....
Jordan manages to get Jordan's message through, but hopefully it was a good one, because with a sworn "Son of a fucking bitch!", a powerful vice of a grip clenches around Jordan's hand and the other leaves Jordan's face area to try to pry the phone out of Jordan's hand and toss it down the aisle, where the screen will likely crack from hitting the side of a shelf.
Seems it has a case on it. Lucky. If Jordan happens to survive, it's probably fine.
Jordan screams one last time, as loudly as possible, before falling completely limp and quiet, giving up.
Jordan finds himself punched repeatedly in the head and shoulders, the other hand encasing Jordan's neck, each impact punctuated by a heavy snarling word. "I- TOLD- YOU- TO- SHUT - UP- FAGGOT!"
Jordan had gone quiet, but the blows each get a strangled attempt at a grunt or shout, until they quickly cannot make any vocal sound at all, recoiling from each hint quietly as their eyes fill with tears. They're definitely quiet now.
Calming due to Jordan's compliance, Jordan's captor drags Jordan up to Jordan's feet and approaches one of the windows, pausing as if staring outside...
Jordan waves to Jill with as much subtlety as they can muster, a beckon motion, or perhaps asking for help. Their eyes are filled with tears and bruises are beginning to bloom.
Jill enters the library with a stern look on her face. The Doctor slings her medical bag behind her back as she steps quietly past the shelves until she catches sight of the young goth girl. She calmly approaches with one hand concealed in her bag. "Hello...?" the red-head asks in a cool voice as she tries to assess the situation, "What's happened here?"
As Jill enters the dark section of the library, the fluorescent lights failing to ring out with their almost omnipresent hum, Jill witnesses a hairy, dishevelled man with long fangs grabbing Jordan with an arm across the shoulder and the other raised, staring out the window, initially unaware of Jill. He appears to be holding Jordan in a classic 'human shield' position.
Jordan takes the chance to clasp both hands together, a prayer or request. In the pitch dark, it might be missed, but otherwise, it's a pretty clear message for most.
Jill approaches slowly as she identifies this hostage situation, her eyes dart around. A slight tinge of fear has infected her demeanor as she tries to adjust, but her voice is calm as she still walks forward. Her hand stays in her medical bag, "My name is Doctor Jill Crest and I seem to have walked into...?" she asks, still keeping a steady gaze on the fanged man as she grips something in her bag, she swallows nervously, "Well... I'm not sure exactly. But I'd advise you to release that woman."
The vampire whirls towards Jill, grip tightening on Jordan, forearm pressing into Jordan's neck. "Get me the fuck out of this city," he demands of Jill. "Then I'll let this faggot go.", he sneers, evidently amused that Jill is calling Jordan a woman. How dreadful of the man.
Jill blinks a few times as she adjusts from a bout of glassiness in her own gaze. As if she had been in a completely different state of mind. Perhaps a complete disassociation from reality. Her own hand rubs her temple as her vision starts to adjust, coming out of a daze, "I'm sorry... Um..." she slaps her own cheek, "Wake up," she growls to herself, "Okay!" she blinks again as she holds up a hand, "Let's negotiate!" she swallows again squinting over the hostage situation one more time.
Jordan doesn't seem to be concerned with such things in general, giving their pechant for lipstick, skirts, and cute attire, but their eyes almost roll with the humor in the hairy vampire's voice. Still, tears continue to streak down their reddening face as their captor makes it hard for them to breathe.
Jill shimmies nervously on her feet as she looks at the goth, "I love that outfit!" she smirks slightly before returning her attention to the fanged man, "I don't have a vehicle... But I'd be happy to guide you to the nearest sewer manhole," she says a little defiantly.
The vampire lets up a little bit as Jordan's tears wet the vampire's arm, the beast of a man grumbling in annoyance at the sensation. "There's nothing to negotiate. Don't fuck with me," he postures at Jill. "You can get anywhere from Haven and I need you to get me the fuck out of here if you want this bitch to survive," they demand.
Jordan gasps for air, but doesn't dare speak. They look a bit confused at Jill's first words, but otherwise stays still and silent.
Jill keeps a hand in the bag as she slowly approaches, her nose wrinkles a little, "I'll have you know I was enjoying a nice meditation before this," she says flashing a peak inside her medical bag to show a hand gripping a revolver, "So I'm a little sleepy and little on edge," she suddenly frowns, "Why don't we all calm down. Deep breath exercises," she says beginning to demonstrate with a breath in, held, then released, "Nice and easy. We can arrange a getaway provided you don't harm that individual."
Jordan takes in the deep breath, holds it, and releases, as the doctor says. Since breathing's about all they can do. Their face falls flat as they try and calm down themself, waiting and probably hoping that they're lucky enough to get out of here alive.
He raises a hand in aggravation, the one not arm-barred across Jordan's upper chest. "The minute I'm safe, I let the fucker go," he states, with naked desperation on his features. Whatever he's running from, it seems to scare him more than Jill's gun.
Jordan raises a hand, politely.
Jill smiles as she sees the hostage take a breath, "Just like that! Yeah!" she says in a soft soothing voice before looking back at the vampire, "Okay... Now your turn," she insists to him, her eyes flicker with realization as she catches the desperation, "Perfectly understandable. My job is all about safety and care. You won't find me as eager to end you as those nuns might be," she says nodding before pointing to the raised hand, "And I'll be satisfied when they're safe. What would you like to do?" she asks him, still keeping on her toes as she halts in place now.
Even the vampire seems to be somewhat calmed by Jill's attitude, although his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Another continent," he replies, after a long moment to think about it. "Maybe another world."
Jordan decides that they dare speak, quiet and with a fearful and stumbling quaver. "Um... can' you... nigh'mare? Inda dreamworld? Or summn'..." At least, that's what they manage to get out if their captor doesn't cut them off.
Jill squints to the side for a moment as she thinks carefully, "That could be arranged," she says, and in a bold motion, pulls her hand out of the bag and holds both up. She takes another deep breath as a smile grows on her face, "I'm not an exactly an expert on other worlds but... I know that a bone compass can get you far," she reaches out slowly for a shelf as she taps the spines of books as if suddenly looking for info, "Elik's commune is nice... Went there for a ball, may be a bit bright for you," she sighs before turning back toward the pair, a little closer than before.
The vampire drags a claw across Jordan's neck, unamused by Jordan's input. "Get me a compass," he demands of Jill. He tries to take a step back but he's pressed up against the window, skin sallow in the daylight that breaks through. "And show me a place to go with it."
Jordan flinches, moving a hand to their throat, but not pulling or touching their captor's arm, simply responding to the pain. Despite the situation, they seem to have calmed down easily, not even the pain causing panic. Their other hand explores their body, though, wincing as they explore clearly sore areas.
Jill snorts a little laugh, "I'm not leaving you here with that fashionable little goth. Fortunately..." she says and shimmies her medical bag again to her side, "I have one... Gonna set me back a little but I'll manage," she says slipping her hand into a side pocket on her medical bag, a little pouch with some pink pills slips out, "Oops... Ignore those," she snorts a nervous laugh and pulls out a bone carved compass, holding it aloft in her palm. The needle spins in randomly before acquiring a direction, "This will lead to the doors of other worlds though out the town. They like to move around..." she says as she steps up to them, just out of reach, "You don't even need me to lead you there," she smiles brightly with her own teeth and holds up a hand, "Now... Hostage for a compass?"
Jordan widens their eyes, a look of concern on their face, that only Jill can see. However, they don't speak, don't move, just breathing and waiting, utterly helpless.
The vampire nods, and their eyes fall upon an empty shelf about halfway between Jill and himself. "Put it there and step back," he breathes, feral anticipation in his tone. "I'll go for it and l eave him here. Agreed?" He eyes the pills, but seems to find them completely irrelevant to whatever he intends.
Jill nods and takes a long step back with ballerina-like nimbleness, "Agreed." She puts the compass down on the shelf in a gap just between two sets of demonology books and steps to the side to give the vampire room to run. "I recommend going out the football field way. You'll have a covered walk way and the front door can be rather crowded at reception," she advises, still keeping a toothy smile as her hand hovers beside her bag, "No funny stuff," she says with a wag of her finger, "Make a wrong move and I'll have to put on a very interesting vampire dissection lecture," she says in the silkiest doctor's voice she can manage before taking another deep breath. Her eyes are locked on the vampire.
With his free hand, the vampire opens the window, fiddling with the latch - and then the vampire shoves Jordan to the side, into the next aisle as he darts forwards to snatch up the compass with inhuman speed to then leap bodily from the window and take off running into the woods, if not somehow inhibited.
Jill acts quickly after the vampire as she pulls out her revolver. She points it up and looks out the window. She watches him disappear into the tree line. Once satisfied she slowly closes it shut, "You okay?" she asks the goth, holding a hand, "That was scary!" she giggles nervously and blinks with a shiver.
Jordan flies between the shelves, landing and rolling on the ground with a yell of pain. They instantly curl up, covering their neck and bringing their knees to their face, cowering and quivering. Only once they are sure that the vampire is, in fact, gone do they uncurl a bit, looking up tearfully at Jill and reaching a shaky hand out for the help. "Y-y-yeah... he gone? F-fo' real?"
Jill nods as she takes the shaky hand into her steady hand, "Looks like it!" she says before guiding the goth up to take a seat in a comfy leather library chair. In her other hand she holds the revolver safely to the side, "Now... I'm not gonna press you on how you got into this mess. It's Haven after all. But I will advise some caution going forward. Oh and..." she looks at her gun before slipping it back in the bag, "White Oak is not a place to have weapons," she says tapping her own fingers to her lips, "At least according to the HSD I believe," she giggles. "That said, I'd advise a little self defense. You never know when they might come back," she begins to look over the goth, examining the bruises, then the neck "Anything broken? Any bites?"
Jordan falls into the seat heavily, body shivering from the stress. They stare dully at Jill at the talk about weapons, face completely emotionless. They do flinch and wince at the touches, the bruises clearly fresh and made with force, but they don't pull away, even lifting their shirt to allow easier inspecting. When they do speak, it's clear that words are difficult to get out. "Oh. Uh... no. 'M fine... jus' bwuised." That said, those bruises sure look like bones should be at least fractured by the impacts.
Jill gives a sigh and a nod as she looks over those bruises, not pleased. She looks through a medical bag, "I apologize... I had my bag taken recently and the drugs were stolen. Those sorority girls have sticky fingers," she says with a giggle and a smile, "I can't give you anything on hand. My recommendation is to go to the clinic, maybe get some pain killers. Your injuries should heal in time." Now she turns her attention to their face, "I never caught you name," she pulls out a penlight and examines the goth's eyes for reactions to the light. Randomly and without warning the doctor snaps her fingers in their ears to check for reflexes to sounds.
Jordan shakes their head. "No... you fine. Mebbe I'll axe Fweya. 'M Joardan Androwmeda... Jooordan... And-rom-e-da... Corcosa Noba Ellis." They grimace as they stumble over their own name, though not not a big enough grimace to shut their eyes. With the snap, they just tilt their head just slightly away, a proper reflex.
The situation took a turning point with the arrival of Doctor Jill Crest, whose calm demeanor and quick thinking became a beacon of hope. Identifying the tense hostage situation, Jill negotiated with the vampire with a blend of courage and wit, leveraging a mystical bone compass as a means to provide the vampire with a route to escape in exchange for Jordan's safety. Despite the palpable fear and threats, Jill's offer of guidance to a safer place for the vampire, paired with the assurance of harmlessness towards Jordan, allowed for a resolution whereby the vampire took the offered escape route, leaving Jordan in the care of Jill. Jill's medical assessment and offer of help to a visibly shaken and injured Jordan not only showcased her dedication to care but also hinted at the complexities and dangers lurking within their world, leaving an indelible mark on both of their lives.
(Jordan's odd encounter(SRFayad):SRFayad)
[Sun Jul 14 2024]
In the southern shelves
Rows of towering bookcases stand sentry here, their intricate wooden carvings and ornate designs adding an air of scholarly reverence to the expansive space. Soft, diffused lighting bathes the area in a warm, inviting glow, casting delicate shadows that dance along the weathered spines of the aging tomes and well-preserved manuscripts. The faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood mingles with the subtle aroma of leather bindings, creating a rich olfactory atmosphere.
It is morning, about 96F(35C) degrees,
(Your target has been abducted and is being held hostage by a supernatural criminal out to trade them for something or just use them as a shield against the factions. Your target must attempt to find a way to escape, or simply survive until they can be rescued by their allies.
)
As Jordan moves through the stacks, a looming air of unease makes its way through their senses. The hair on the back of Jordan's neck rises up, and then the lights suddenly go out. With the absence of the humming of fluorescent lights, all that's left in the morning is the sweltering heat and a growing feeling of doom.
Jordan looks around with concern, stopping in their tracks and reaching out with their hands to find the shelves and walls in reach. Their eyes are sightless before they adjust.
Jordan says "Hello? "
Jordan crouches down, making themself smaller, and wrapping their arms around their knees as they lean against the shelves.
As Jordan's voice echoes out into the remote section of the Institute library, Jordan suddenly realises that it's far too muffled - something's there in front of him. A huge, hairy palm lashes out to envelop Jordan's face with inhuman strength, an anthropoid creature grasping Jordan and dragging Jordan back into one of the corners, heedless to noise or the consequences to Jordan's legs from hitting shelving on the way.
Jordan struggles, trying to scream and kick at the shelving and chairs - then falling limp after a solid moment, hoping to slip out.
"You're gonna shut the fuck up, gayboy," a gravelly hiss booms down to Jordan. The grip around Jordan's face shifts, to a shoulder, Jordan dragged up to their feet and held as if a human shield. Whoever is holding Jordan appears to be quite literally hiding in the corner as if expecting to be shot. Jordan feels no heartbeat from the wall of muscle Jordan's pressed up against.
Jordan taps on their phone while squirming one last time as a distraction. The benefit of a physical keyboard shines in this moment, and the muffled sound likely makes it silent to hear. If a message can even get through....
Jordan manages to get Jordan's message through, but hopefully it was a good one, because with a sworn "Son of a fucking bitch!", a powerful vice of a grip clenches around Jordan's hand and the other leaves Jordan's face area to try to pry the phone out of Jordan's hand and toss it down the aisle, where the screen will likely crack from hitting the side of a shelf.
Seems it has a case on it. Lucky. If Jordan happens to survive, it's probably fine.
Jordan screams one last time, as loudly as possible, before falling completely limp and quiet, giving up.
Jordan finds himself punched repeatedly in the head and shoulders, the other hand encasing Jordan's neck, each impact punctuated by a heavy snarling word. "I- TOLD- YOU- TO- SHUT - UP- FAGGOT!"
Jordan had gone quiet, but the blows each get a strangled attempt at a grunt or shout, until they quickly cannot make any vocal sound at all, recoiling from each hint quietly as their eyes fill with tears. They're definitely quiet now.
Calming due to Jordan's compliance, Jordan's captor drags Jordan up to Jordan's feet and approaches one of the windows, pausing as if staring outside...
Jordan waves to Jill with as much subtlety as they can muster, a beckon motion, or perhaps asking for help. Their eyes are filled with tears and bruises are beginning to bloom.
Jill enters the library with a stern look on her face. The Doctor slings her medical bag behind her back as she steps quietly past the shelves until she catches sight of the young goth girl. She calmly approaches with one hand concealed in her bag. "Hello...?" the red-head asks in a cool voice as she tries to assess the situation, "What's happened here?"
As Jill enters the dark section of the library, the fluorescent lights failing to ring out with their almost omnipresent hum, Jill witnesses a hairy, dishevelled man with long fangs grabbing Jordan with an arm across the shoulder and the other raised, staring out the window, initially unaware of Jill. He appears to be holding Jordan in a classic 'human shield' position.
Jordan takes the chance to clasp both hands together, a prayer or request. In the pitch dark, it might be missed, but otherwise, it's a pretty clear message for most.
Jill approaches slowly as she identifies this hostage situation, her eyes dart around. A slight tinge of fear has infected her demeanor as she tries to adjust, but her voice is calm as she still walks forward. Her hand stays in her medical bag, "My name is Doctor Jill Crest and I seem to have walked into...?" she asks, still keeping a steady gaze on the fanged man as she grips something in her bag, she swallows nervously, "Well... I'm not sure exactly. But I'd advise you to release that woman."
The vampire whirls towards Jill, grip tightening on Jordan, forearm pressing into Jordan's neck. "Get me the fuck out of this city," he demands of Jill. "Then I'll let this faggot go.", he sneers, evidently amused that Jill is calling Jordan a woman. How dreadful of the man.
Jill blinks a few times as she adjusts from a bout of glassiness in her own gaze. As if she had been in a completely different state of mind. Perhaps a complete disassociation from reality. Her own hand rubs her temple as her vision starts to adjust, coming out of a daze, "I'm sorry... Um..." she slaps her own cheek, "Wake up," she growls to herself, "Okay!" she blinks again as she holds up a hand, "Let's negotiate!" she swallows again squinting over the hostage situation one more time.
Jordan doesn't seem to be concerned with such things in general, giving their pechant for lipstick, skirts, and cute attire, but their eyes almost roll with the humor in the hairy vampire's voice. Still, tears continue to streak down their reddening face as their captor makes it hard for them to breathe.
Jill shimmies nervously on her feet as she looks at the goth, "I love that outfit!" she smirks slightly before returning her attention to the fanged man, "I don't have a vehicle... But I'd be happy to guide you to the nearest sewer manhole," she says a little defiantly.
The vampire lets up a little bit as Jordan's tears wet the vampire's arm, the beast of a man grumbling in annoyance at the sensation. "There's nothing to negotiate. Don't fuck with me," he postures at Jill. "You can get anywhere from Haven and I need you to get me the fuck out of here if you want this bitch to survive," they demand.
Jordan gasps for air, but doesn't dare speak. They look a bit confused at Jill's first words, but otherwise stays still and silent.
Jill keeps a hand in the bag as she slowly approaches, her nose wrinkles a little, "I'll have you know I was enjoying a nice meditation before this," she says flashing a peak inside her medical bag to show a hand gripping a revolver, "So I'm a little sleepy and little on edge," she suddenly frowns, "Why don't we all calm down. Deep breath exercises," she says beginning to demonstrate with a breath in, held, then released, "Nice and easy. We can arrange a getaway provided you don't harm that individual."
Jordan takes in the deep breath, holds it, and releases, as the doctor says. Since breathing's about all they can do. Their face falls flat as they try and calm down themself, waiting and probably hoping that they're lucky enough to get out of here alive.
He raises a hand in aggravation, the one not arm-barred across Jordan's upper chest. "The minute I'm safe, I let the fucker go," he states, with naked desperation on his features. Whatever he's running from, it seems to scare him more than Jill's gun.
Jordan raises a hand, politely.
Jill smiles as she sees the hostage take a breath, "Just like that! Yeah!" she says in a soft soothing voice before looking back at the vampire, "Okay... Now your turn," she insists to him, her eyes flicker with realization as she catches the desperation, "Perfectly understandable. My job is all about safety and care. You won't find me as eager to end you as those nuns might be," she says nodding before pointing to the raised hand, "And I'll be satisfied when they're safe. What would you like to do?" she asks him, still keeping on her toes as she halts in place now.
Even the vampire seems to be somewhat calmed by Jill's attitude, although his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Another continent," he replies, after a long moment to think about it. "Maybe another world."
Jordan decides that they dare speak, quiet and with a fearful and stumbling quaver. "Um... can' you... nigh'mare? Inda dreamworld? Or summn'..." At least, that's what they manage to get out if their captor doesn't cut them off.
Jill squints to the side for a moment as she thinks carefully, "That could be arranged," she says, and in a bold motion, pulls her hand out of the bag and holds both up. She takes another deep breath as a smile grows on her face, "I'm not an exactly an expert on other worlds but... I know that a bone compass can get you far," she reaches out slowly for a shelf as she taps the spines of books as if suddenly looking for info, "Elik's commune is nice... Went there for a ball, may be a bit bright for you," she sighs before turning back toward the pair, a little closer than before.
The vampire drags a claw across Jordan's neck, unamused by Jordan's input. "Get me a compass," he demands of Jill. He tries to take a step back but he's pressed up against the window, skin sallow in the daylight that breaks through. "And show me a place to go with it."
Jordan flinches, moving a hand to their throat, but not pulling or touching their captor's arm, simply responding to the pain. Despite the situation, they seem to have calmed down easily, not even the pain causing panic. Their other hand explores their body, though, wincing as they explore clearly sore areas.
Jill snorts a little laugh, "I'm not leaving you here with that fashionable little goth. Fortunately..." she says and shimmies her medical bag again to her side, "I have one... Gonna set me back a little but I'll manage," she says slipping her hand into a side pocket on her medical bag, a little pouch with some pink pills slips out, "Oops... Ignore those," she snorts a nervous laugh and pulls out a bone carved compass, holding it aloft in her palm. The needle spins in randomly before acquiring a direction, "This will lead to the doors of other worlds though out the town. They like to move around..." she says as she steps up to them, just out of reach, "You don't even need me to lead you there," she smiles brightly with her own teeth and holds up a hand, "Now... Hostage for a compass?"
Jordan widens their eyes, a look of concern on their face, that only Jill can see. However, they don't speak, don't move, just breathing and waiting, utterly helpless.
The vampire nods, and their eyes fall upon an empty shelf about halfway between Jill and himself. "Put it there and step back," he breathes, feral anticipation in his tone. "I'll go for it and l eave him here. Agreed?" He eyes the pills, but seems to find them completely irrelevant to whatever he intends.
Jill nods and takes a long step back with ballerina-like nimbleness, "Agreed." She puts the compass down on the shelf in a gap just between two sets of demonology books and steps to the side to give the vampire room to run. "I recommend going out the football field way. You'll have a covered walk way and the front door can be rather crowded at reception," she advises, still keeping a toothy smile as her hand hovers beside her bag, "No funny stuff," she says with a wag of her finger, "Make a wrong move and I'll have to put on a very interesting vampire dissection lecture," she says in the silkiest doctor's voice she can manage before taking another deep breath. Her eyes are locked on the vampire.
With his free hand, the vampire opens the window, fiddling with the latch - and then the vampire shoves Jordan to the side, into the next aisle as he darts forwards to snatch up the compass with inhuman speed to then leap bodily from the window and take off running into the woods, if not somehow inhibited.
Jill acts quickly after the vampire as she pulls out her revolver. She points it up and looks out the window. She watches him disappear into the tree line. Once satisfied she slowly closes it shut, "You okay?" she asks the goth, holding a hand, "That was scary!" she giggles nervously and blinks with a shiver.
Jordan flies between the shelves, landing and rolling on the ground with a yell of pain. They instantly curl up, covering their neck and bringing their knees to their face, cowering and quivering. Only once they are sure that the vampire is, in fact, gone do they uncurl a bit, looking up tearfully at Jill and reaching a shaky hand out for the help. "Y-y-yeah... he gone? F-fo' real?"
Jill nods as she takes the shaky hand into her steady hand, "Looks like it!" she says before guiding the goth up to take a seat in a comfy leather library chair. In her other hand she holds the revolver safely to the side, "Now... I'm not gonna press you on how you got into this mess. It's Haven after all. But I will advise some caution going forward. Oh and..." she looks at her gun before slipping it back in the bag, "White Oak is not a place to have weapons," she says tapping her own fingers to her lips, "At least according to the HSD I believe," she giggles. "That said, I'd advise a little self defense. You never know when they might come back," she begins to look over the goth, examining the bruises, then the neck "Anything broken? Any bites?"
Jordan falls into the seat heavily, body shivering from the stress. They stare dully at Jill at the talk about weapons, face completely emotionless. They do flinch and wince at the touches, the bruises clearly fresh and made with force, but they don't pull away, even lifting their shirt to allow easier inspecting. When they do speak, it's clear that words are difficult to get out. "Oh. Uh... no. 'M fine... jus' bwuised." That said, those bruises sure look like bones should be at least fractured by the impacts.
Jill gives a sigh and a nod as she looks over those bruises, not pleased. She looks through a medical bag, "I apologize... I had my bag taken recently and the drugs were stolen. Those sorority girls have sticky fingers," she says with a giggle and a smile, "I can't give you anything on hand. My recommendation is to go to the clinic, maybe get some pain killers. Your injuries should heal in time." Now she turns her attention to their face, "I never caught you name," she pulls out a penlight and examines the goth's eyes for reactions to the light. Randomly and without warning the doctor snaps her fingers in their ears to check for reflexes to sounds.
Jordan shakes their head. "No... you fine. Mebbe I'll axe Fweya. 'M Joardan Androwmeda... Jooordan... And-rom-e-da... Corcosa Noba Ellis." They grimace as they stumble over their own name, though not not a big enough grimace to shut their eyes. With the snap, they just tilt their head just slightly away, a proper reflex.