Encounterlogs
Keiths Odd Encounter Sr Victoria 250224
In the shadowed ambiance of a rose garden near the Starlight Lounge, Keith encounters Kasia, a figure of intrigue and danger in the form of a vampire. Attempting to blend into the unusual environment, Keith clumsily introduces himself as Bob, a "toilet fixer," hilariously trying to charm Kasia with mentions of "pigs in a blanket" as a delicacy and other mundane banter. His attempt at deception seems misplaced against Kasia's imposing presence, her every movement and gesture exuding a silent threat. Meanwhile, Juniper, operating under a façade of her own, maneuvers through the room with a dark tray, trying to execute a secretive exchange under the guise of serving spirits to the attendees.
As the evening's tensions heighten with the impending start of a secretive bidding, Kasia's cold dismissal of Keith underscores the high stakes and clandestine nature of the meeting. Unfazed by Keith's bumbling interaction, she returns to her dominating role over the gathering, signaling the beginning of more sinister proceedings. In the meantime, Juniper successfully makes her quiet escape, cleverly avoiding attention as she leaves with a concealed item, signaling her departure with a terse message to Keith. Oblivious to the gravitas of the encounter and the underlying currents of danger, Keith retires from his feeble attempt at socializing, remarking on the necessity to return to his menial tasks. The story concludes with the palpable sense of mystery and impending intrigue, leaving the outcomes of the night's bidding to the imagination, while Juniper speeds away into the night, her mission accomplished, and Keith escapes any dire consequences of his naivety.
(Keith's odd encounter(SRVictoria):SRVictoria)
[Sun Feb 23 2025]
At a small rose garden north of the Starlight Lounge's entrance
It is night, about -6F(-21C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a waning crescent moon.
For a moment Keith looks confused by the instructions he is given by Juniper, but it doesn't take long before him to actually take action, "Hey ooooh. Your a pretty lady." He says, looking to Kasia with a doofy smile on his face, "Never seen ya here before, like, they got some real fancy food here. Ya ever hear of digs in da blanket. I think it is French. And you can get it with that fancy dijon ketchup." He explains in depth to the probably dangerous vampire woman, "When ya eat them though, you gotta keep your picky up, or they might kick you out..." He pauses for a long moment before clarify, "A fancy lady like yourself, lookie at me, explainin' something you already know."
For a moment Keith looks confused by the instructions he is given by Juniper, but it doesn't take long before him to actually take action, "Hey ooooh. Your a pretty lady." He says, looking to Kasia with a doofy smile on his face, "Never seen ya here before, like, they got some real fancy food here. Ya ever hear of pigs in da blanket. I think it is French. And you can get it with that fancy dijon ketchup." He explains in depth to the probably dangerous vampire woman, "When ya eat them though, you gotta keep your pinky up, or they might kick you out..." He pauses for a long moment before clarify, "A fancy lady like yourself, lookie at me, explainin' something you already know." (fixed)
Amidst the murmur of conversation, Kasia sits motionless, a statue carved from midnight and moonlight. Her amber eyes, unblinking, glide from one face to another, sharp as a blade poised to strike. Gloved fingers rest atop the polished wood of the table, still as if carved from stone. The flicker of candlelight dances across her pale skin, casting shadows that shift like whispers across her features. The soft hum of voices fades to a distant murmur as her gaze settles with surgical precision.
Her head tilts slightly, a movement slow and deliberate, like a predator assessing prey. The faintest curl of her lip hints at something unreadable- curiosity, disdain, or something far colder. Time seems to stretch thin as her eyes land on Keith, her gaze dissecting every detail- the angle of his shoulders, the tension in his posture, the way the shadows catch in his hair. Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, as though tasting the air itself for the faintest trace of fear or deception.
One hand lifts from the table, fingers sleek in dark leather as they hover with a poised elegance. Then, with the deliberate grace of a queen commanding her court, she extends her hand and points directly toward him.
"You," she drawls, her voice low and smooth, each syllable curling through the air like smoke curling through dusk. The single word lingers, heavy with the weight of unspoken consequence. "You're not normally here." The pause that follows is deliberate, taut as a bowstring. "Who are you?" The question carries no warmth- only the cold precision of a blade pressed lightly to the skin, waiting to see if the pulse beneath will race.
"Ya want to try them? I can get some. I am like ummmm......" And his gears are grinding as he actually tries to come with some deception... Probably a mistake for Keith, "Bob. Bob the... toilet fixer. I fix the toilets here.. You know, cause they run for a while and shaking the handle doesn't always work... So you sometimes have to fix it. You know that little chain that hangs in the back? Sometimes that thing gets caught up on things and you need to unkink it, others times, the seals go bad." He explains.
Juniper has taken the opportunity meanwhile, to leave Keith yammering while she goes to look for her standin. When she returns, she is careful to move about the room like one of the staff, because... she is. Familiar, confident, not bothering to look too long or hard at what everyone is here for because it's none of her business.
While Keith and the centre of gravity in the room converse, she would try her hand at deception herself. Bringing over a large, dark tray carrying an expensive array of spirits for those gathered, she would also use it as the cover for the box in hand. Arriving at the table and extending the tray over top to make a show of the flutes on offer she gestures one of the waiters over to assist. "Please see that these are dispersed carefully while I hold this steady," she instructs. As flute after flute gets picked up gingerly and handed, the mundane and methodical act of serving hopefully acts to hide the movement of the blonde woman - switching hands under the tray so that the one supporting the case is free to set it down on the table gently and, feeling with silent fingers, to try and pick up the original beside it and brace it under the tray once more, like nothing ever happened.
An arch of Kasias brow cuts through the air like the flick of a blade, sharp with unspoken judgment. The faintest pull at the corner of her mouth hints at a smile, though it holds no warmth- only the cold amusement of a predator watching its prey fumble. Nearby conversations stutter and fade as eyes drift toward her table, curiosity sharpening the air. Figures wrapped in tailored black glance toward one another, puzzled murmurs brushing the air like ghosted whispers.
Kasia's gaze narrows, her eyes catching the candlelight and holding it while the silence between herself and Keith stretches. Her breath is a measured pause before the strike. When she speaks, her voice is velvet wrapped around steel- smooth, low, and laced with the promise of finality.
You arent supposed to be here. Each syllable lands like the slow toll of a distant bell, echoing beneath the hush that falls over the room. Her hand, gloved in sleek black leather, lifts with a slow elegance, fingers curling in a gesture of dismissal. Run along. We have business. The final word is a door closing, a line drawn between those who belong and those who do not.
A beat passes- then another- before her attention shifts. Without a glance more, she turns back toward the figure she addressed upon arrival, the faint murmur of their words swallowed by the thick air of the lounge as the crowd waits for the bidding to begin. As glasses are distributed and seats are taken in anticipation, it seems Juniper's attempt, and perhaps even her arrival back to the room, has gone unnoticed.
An arch of Kasia's brow cuts through the air like the flick of a blade, sharp with unspoken judgment. The faintest pull at the corner of her mouth hints at a smile, though it holds no warmth- only the cold amusement of a predator watching its prey fumble. Nearby conversations stutter and fade as eyes drift toward her table, curiosity sharpening the air. Figures wrapped in tailored black glance toward one another, puzzled murmurs brushing the air like ghosted whispers.
Kasia's gaze narrows, her eyes catching the candlelight and holding it while the silence between herself and Keith stretches. Her breath is a measured pause before the strike. When she speaks, her voice is velvet wrapped around steel- smooth, low, and laced with the promise of finality.
"You arent supposed to be here." Each syllable lands like the slow toll of a distant bell, echoing beneath the hush that falls over the room. Her hand, gloved in sleek black leather, lifts with a slow elegance, fingers curling in a gesture of dismissal. "Run along. We have business." The final word is a door closing, a line drawn between those who belong and those who do not.
A beat passes- then another- before her attention shifts. Without a glance more, she turns back toward the figure she addressed upon arrival, the faint murmur of their words swallowed by the thick air of the lounge as the crowd waits for the bidding to begin. As glasses are distributed and seats are taken in anticipation, it seems Juniper's attempt, and perhaps even her arrival back to the room, has gone unnoticed. (fix)
"But... I work here..." Keith trails off as the vampire lady dismisses him, before asking her, "Are ya sure you don't want pigs in a blanket, they are great. Like, fanciest thing I ever ate."
Juniper slips away, back to the bar, depositing tray and trying to look busy with something else for the moment, taking up another bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne. She stuffs the case inside of it, arranging it to not be an eyesore as more typical behaviour continues around everyone. She strides off, looking every bit like she might be serving those sitting close to the back before she actually ends up disappearing into the kitchen. Also not a crazy move, the doors regularly swinging open and closed as people move back and forth to attend to guests. Juniper blends in with the movements of the others, swishing around them like it's just another weekend night of serving on the closing shift. But then- she's slipping out the back door, the loading door for the kitchen and begins a swift walk.
Paranoia serves her here, taking a round about way around the back alley, winding back towards where her bike is parked along Beech street. Anywhere there isn't eyes on her, she moves swiftly with that urgency before she can hop on her bike. She doesn't gun it straight away, no the turn of her engine or the ferocity of her speed might draw undue attention. But once she hits the Franklin bridge she is taking off, her scent dissipating in the winds.
Once in the southern woods, Juniper would slow down, reaching into her jacket to thumb out a quick message to Keith. "I'm out. Don't wait up for me. Don't even ask about me."
Once in the southern woods, Juniper would slow down, reaching into her jacket to thumb out a quick message to Keith : [I'm out. Don't wait up for me. Don't even ask about me.] (fix)
Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, Keith notes to Kasia, "Ya know what?" He says looking down at his phone, "Boss would me pissed if I was talkin' to the customers. Gotta get back to fixin' toilets." He offers, shuffling off towards the backside of the lounge.
"I am certain," Kasia doesn't turn to address Keith. Instead, she seats herself again, poised to watch over everything. A male figure in a hooded robe moves to the table, holding the case aloft and intoning "The bidding will begin shortly." His voice is low, measured, and deliberate, each syllable carrying the gravity of tradition woven through countless clandestine gatherings.
The case remains closed- for now. Conversations dim to a murmur, anticipation settling over the room like the first distant rumble of an approaching storm. Beyond the flicker of candlelight and the haze of clove-scented smoke, unseen intentions coil and tighten, waiting for the moment when silence breaks and the game begins anew. Juniper has made it out, Keith heads for the door, and none are the wiser.
At least for tonight.
As the evening's tensions heighten with the impending start of a secretive bidding, Kasia's cold dismissal of Keith underscores the high stakes and clandestine nature of the meeting. Unfazed by Keith's bumbling interaction, she returns to her dominating role over the gathering, signaling the beginning of more sinister proceedings. In the meantime, Juniper successfully makes her quiet escape, cleverly avoiding attention as she leaves with a concealed item, signaling her departure with a terse message to Keith. Oblivious to the gravitas of the encounter and the underlying currents of danger, Keith retires from his feeble attempt at socializing, remarking on the necessity to return to his menial tasks. The story concludes with the palpable sense of mystery and impending intrigue, leaving the outcomes of the night's bidding to the imagination, while Juniper speeds away into the night, her mission accomplished, and Keith escapes any dire consequences of his naivety.
(Keith's odd encounter(SRVictoria):SRVictoria)
[Sun Feb 23 2025]
At a small rose garden north of the Starlight Lounge's entrance
It is night, about -6F(-21C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a waning crescent moon.
For a moment Keith looks confused by the instructions he is given by Juniper, but it doesn't take long before him to actually take action, "Hey ooooh. Your a pretty lady." He says, looking to Kasia with a doofy smile on his face, "Never seen ya here before, like, they got some real fancy food here. Ya ever hear of digs in da blanket. I think it is French. And you can get it with that fancy dijon ketchup." He explains in depth to the probably dangerous vampire woman, "When ya eat them though, you gotta keep your picky up, or they might kick you out..." He pauses for a long moment before clarify, "A fancy lady like yourself, lookie at me, explainin' something you already know."
For a moment Keith looks confused by the instructions he is given by Juniper, but it doesn't take long before him to actually take action, "Hey ooooh. Your a pretty lady." He says, looking to Kasia with a doofy smile on his face, "Never seen ya here before, like, they got some real fancy food here. Ya ever hear of pigs in da blanket. I think it is French. And you can get it with that fancy dijon ketchup." He explains in depth to the probably dangerous vampire woman, "When ya eat them though, you gotta keep your pinky up, or they might kick you out..." He pauses for a long moment before clarify, "A fancy lady like yourself, lookie at me, explainin' something you already know." (fixed)
Amidst the murmur of conversation, Kasia sits motionless, a statue carved from midnight and moonlight. Her amber eyes, unblinking, glide from one face to another, sharp as a blade poised to strike. Gloved fingers rest atop the polished wood of the table, still as if carved from stone. The flicker of candlelight dances across her pale skin, casting shadows that shift like whispers across her features. The soft hum of voices fades to a distant murmur as her gaze settles with surgical precision.
Her head tilts slightly, a movement slow and deliberate, like a predator assessing prey. The faintest curl of her lip hints at something unreadable- curiosity, disdain, or something far colder. Time seems to stretch thin as her eyes land on Keith, her gaze dissecting every detail- the angle of his shoulders, the tension in his posture, the way the shadows catch in his hair. Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, as though tasting the air itself for the faintest trace of fear or deception.
One hand lifts from the table, fingers sleek in dark leather as they hover with a poised elegance. Then, with the deliberate grace of a queen commanding her court, she extends her hand and points directly toward him.
"You," she drawls, her voice low and smooth, each syllable curling through the air like smoke curling through dusk. The single word lingers, heavy with the weight of unspoken consequence. "You're not normally here." The pause that follows is deliberate, taut as a bowstring. "Who are you?" The question carries no warmth- only the cold precision of a blade pressed lightly to the skin, waiting to see if the pulse beneath will race.
"Ya want to try them? I can get some. I am like ummmm......" And his gears are grinding as he actually tries to come with some deception... Probably a mistake for Keith, "Bob. Bob the... toilet fixer. I fix the toilets here.. You know, cause they run for a while and shaking the handle doesn't always work... So you sometimes have to fix it. You know that little chain that hangs in the back? Sometimes that thing gets caught up on things and you need to unkink it, others times, the seals go bad." He explains.
Juniper has taken the opportunity meanwhile, to leave Keith yammering while she goes to look for her standin. When she returns, she is careful to move about the room like one of the staff, because... she is. Familiar, confident, not bothering to look too long or hard at what everyone is here for because it's none of her business.
While Keith and the centre of gravity in the room converse, she would try her hand at deception herself. Bringing over a large, dark tray carrying an expensive array of spirits for those gathered, she would also use it as the cover for the box in hand. Arriving at the table and extending the tray over top to make a show of the flutes on offer she gestures one of the waiters over to assist. "Please see that these are dispersed carefully while I hold this steady," she instructs. As flute after flute gets picked up gingerly and handed, the mundane and methodical act of serving hopefully acts to hide the movement of the blonde woman - switching hands under the tray so that the one supporting the case is free to set it down on the table gently and, feeling with silent fingers, to try and pick up the original beside it and brace it under the tray once more, like nothing ever happened.
An arch of Kasias brow cuts through the air like the flick of a blade, sharp with unspoken judgment. The faintest pull at the corner of her mouth hints at a smile, though it holds no warmth- only the cold amusement of a predator watching its prey fumble. Nearby conversations stutter and fade as eyes drift toward her table, curiosity sharpening the air. Figures wrapped in tailored black glance toward one another, puzzled murmurs brushing the air like ghosted whispers.
Kasia's gaze narrows, her eyes catching the candlelight and holding it while the silence between herself and Keith stretches. Her breath is a measured pause before the strike. When she speaks, her voice is velvet wrapped around steel- smooth, low, and laced with the promise of finality.
You arent supposed to be here. Each syllable lands like the slow toll of a distant bell, echoing beneath the hush that falls over the room. Her hand, gloved in sleek black leather, lifts with a slow elegance, fingers curling in a gesture of dismissal. Run along. We have business. The final word is a door closing, a line drawn between those who belong and those who do not.
A beat passes- then another- before her attention shifts. Without a glance more, she turns back toward the figure she addressed upon arrival, the faint murmur of their words swallowed by the thick air of the lounge as the crowd waits for the bidding to begin. As glasses are distributed and seats are taken in anticipation, it seems Juniper's attempt, and perhaps even her arrival back to the room, has gone unnoticed.
An arch of Kasia's brow cuts through the air like the flick of a blade, sharp with unspoken judgment. The faintest pull at the corner of her mouth hints at a smile, though it holds no warmth- only the cold amusement of a predator watching its prey fumble. Nearby conversations stutter and fade as eyes drift toward her table, curiosity sharpening the air. Figures wrapped in tailored black glance toward one another, puzzled murmurs brushing the air like ghosted whispers.
Kasia's gaze narrows, her eyes catching the candlelight and holding it while the silence between herself and Keith stretches. Her breath is a measured pause before the strike. When she speaks, her voice is velvet wrapped around steel- smooth, low, and laced with the promise of finality.
"You arent supposed to be here." Each syllable lands like the slow toll of a distant bell, echoing beneath the hush that falls over the room. Her hand, gloved in sleek black leather, lifts with a slow elegance, fingers curling in a gesture of dismissal. "Run along. We have business." The final word is a door closing, a line drawn between those who belong and those who do not.
A beat passes- then another- before her attention shifts. Without a glance more, she turns back toward the figure she addressed upon arrival, the faint murmur of their words swallowed by the thick air of the lounge as the crowd waits for the bidding to begin. As glasses are distributed and seats are taken in anticipation, it seems Juniper's attempt, and perhaps even her arrival back to the room, has gone unnoticed. (fix)
"But... I work here..." Keith trails off as the vampire lady dismisses him, before asking her, "Are ya sure you don't want pigs in a blanket, they are great. Like, fanciest thing I ever ate."
Juniper slips away, back to the bar, depositing tray and trying to look busy with something else for the moment, taking up another bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne. She stuffs the case inside of it, arranging it to not be an eyesore as more typical behaviour continues around everyone. She strides off, looking every bit like she might be serving those sitting close to the back before she actually ends up disappearing into the kitchen. Also not a crazy move, the doors regularly swinging open and closed as people move back and forth to attend to guests. Juniper blends in with the movements of the others, swishing around them like it's just another weekend night of serving on the closing shift. But then- she's slipping out the back door, the loading door for the kitchen and begins a swift walk.
Paranoia serves her here, taking a round about way around the back alley, winding back towards where her bike is parked along Beech street. Anywhere there isn't eyes on her, she moves swiftly with that urgency before she can hop on her bike. She doesn't gun it straight away, no the turn of her engine or the ferocity of her speed might draw undue attention. But once she hits the Franklin bridge she is taking off, her scent dissipating in the winds.
Once in the southern woods, Juniper would slow down, reaching into her jacket to thumb out a quick message to Keith. "I'm out. Don't wait up for me. Don't even ask about me."
Once in the southern woods, Juniper would slow down, reaching into her jacket to thumb out a quick message to Keith : [I'm out. Don't wait up for me. Don't even ask about me.] (fix)
Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, Keith notes to Kasia, "Ya know what?" He says looking down at his phone, "Boss would me pissed if I was talkin' to the customers. Gotta get back to fixin' toilets." He offers, shuffling off towards the backside of the lounge.
"I am certain," Kasia doesn't turn to address Keith. Instead, she seats herself again, poised to watch over everything. A male figure in a hooded robe moves to the table, holding the case aloft and intoning "The bidding will begin shortly." His voice is low, measured, and deliberate, each syllable carrying the gravity of tradition woven through countless clandestine gatherings.
The case remains closed- for now. Conversations dim to a murmur, anticipation settling over the room like the first distant rumble of an approaching storm. Beyond the flicker of candlelight and the haze of clove-scented smoke, unseen intentions coil and tighten, waiting for the moment when silence breaks and the game begins anew. Juniper has made it out, Keith heads for the door, and none are the wiser.
At least for tonight.