Encounterlogs
Lynettes Odd Encounter Sr Edith 250227
In a tranquil Japanese-style shrine home, Lynette awakens from a nap, unsuspected of the chaos that will ensue. Takeshi, in his thrill-seeking manner, races through the town on his motorcycle, unknowingly setting the stage for a dramatic turn of events. Lynette, after stepping outside to admire the serene surroundings of Haven, is suddenly engulfed in a storm, her senses distorted and reality slipping away from her grasp. Unbeknownst to her, she finds herself the target of an abduction orchestrated by a shadowy syndicate, aiming to auction her off to the highest bidder. Meanwhile, Takeshi, distracted by his adrenaline-fueled escapades, receives a notification about the ongoing auction. In a room devoid of light and warmth, Lynette grapples with her new, grim reality, desperately scanning her surroundings for any means of escape. The stark, cold environment and the rhythmic blinking of a camera serve as her only company, deepening her sense of despair and isolation.
Takeshi's arrival at the auction, with his nonchalant request for a "cute" slave, juxtaposes his earlier carefree demeanor with the grim proceedings of the auction hall. His impulsive participation in Lynette's auction, driven by a mix of naïveté and a misplaced sense of heroism, results in an unexpected twist of fate. Winning Lynette for a mere dollar, Takeshi unwittingly transitions from an exhilarated motorcyclist to Lynette's savior. Despite his unconventional method, he ensures Lynette's safety, pulling her out of the grips of a potentially cruel fate. Their reunion, under the bizarre and dramatic circumstances, highlights the unpredictable nature of their existence in Haven. As they prepare to return to their sanctuary, the narrative leaves one pondering the repercussions of Takeshi's actions and the future that awaits both Lynette and him in the wake of this harrowing experience.
(Lynette's odd encounter(SREdith):SREdith)
[Wed Feb 26 2025]
In an Entrance Hall and Kitchen
The entrance to the shrine home is simple and elegant. The entrance is made up out of a smooth stone floor at the genkan, the traditional Japanese entryway. A small, neatly arranged rack holds different pairs of women oriented shoes, while a low wooden bench offers a place to sit and remove footwear before stepping up onto the polished wooden floors of the main home. Above, an overhead beam made from dark cedar wood bears hand-carved motifs of swirling clouds and sacred cranes, symbols of longevity and protection.
To the side, the kitchen area appears to be both functional and minimalist. A simple wooden counter, free of clutter, holds carefully arranged utensils and a ceramic tea set. A black iron kettle sits atop a traditional stove. Small shelves on the wall display earthenware jars containing rice, miso, and other essentials, each jar decorated with intricate calligraphy.
It is afternoon, about 27F(-2C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing outside.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)
Lynette just woke up after a well deserved nap. She stretches tall with a deep yawn, stumbling out of her room. It was one measly sparring session she wasnt even hurt during, yet if you asked her it took all her energy for the day to participate. "Good second morning, Tank," Lynette hums as she spots a familiar fellow.
Takeshi is racing through town! Weaving through traffic at a speed far beyond what is safe, he revvs his Kawasaki Ninja loud! Too cool for silly things like protective gear, his flowing Hakama pants and Haori jacket flap noisily in the wind with Takeshi holding a dumb grin on his face. He was thoroughly enjoying placing himself and everyone else around him on the road into mortal danger!
Strapped to his back was the dark black scabbard of an obsidian sword, a scarlet saego string tightly binding the handle to the scabbard, preventing it from being drawn. A organic claw like material formed an eyelid at the guard of the sword, tightly shut for now, as if asleep ...
Takeshi had, of course, left a cardboard cutout of himself hitting a cool ass pose in Lynette's room. Just in case she got lonely whilst she was napping.
Takeshi, having left the cutout of himself (because of course he did. Takeshi is just that cool!) he leaves to ride his bike around town; He's likely showing off, and Lynette is likely used to such things. The spar was rough, but by no means more so than what takes place next-- The afternoon outside the town of Haven begins with a delicate hush that blankets the landscape; Soft tendrils of mist cling to the ground, swirling around the skeletal branches of leafless trees within the forest and drifting along Forest View Drive, their silhouettes stark against the pale sky. The air is crisp and carries the faint scent of frost, hinting at winter's lingering grip upon the world, even now. A golden hue creeps over the horizon, casting long shadows and illuminating the world in a soft, ethereal light. Outside, birds chirp in a distant chorus, their melodies woven into the serene tapestry of the seemingly quiet daylight. The peaceful soundscape is punctuated by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of snow underfoot from the roadway, as if the earth itself is whispering secrets. Lynette feels a sense of calm, an unshakeable feeling that all is right in this moment, as Lynette takes in the tranquil beauty surrounding her... But then, without warning, the atmosphere shifts. A sudden gust of wind slices through the stillness, an unexpected force that carries an unsettling chill. It howls like a specter, turning the serene morning into a chaotic dance of swirling leaves and loose debris. The temperature drops, and a tingling sensation prickles at the back of Lynette's neck, sending a shiver down her spine. In an instant, the world around Lynette blurs-- colors fade, sounds distort, and a piercing sensation shoots through Lynette's very soul; sharp and invasive. With a gasp, Lynette's senses are overwhelmed, and the last vestiges of awareness slip away, leaving Lynette insensate amid the chaos. The town of Haven, however cares little. It continues in perpetuity, with life creeping inexerably forward, unaware of what has even taken place. Which of course is when Takeshi finds his phone pinging-- There is an auction taking place in the southern room of the town hall. A diplomatic event is what it is called, though Takeshi knows the truth. Someone-- But who? Was kidnapped by the syndicate, and there will be an auction to bid for their capture and sale to the highest bidder. Unknown to Takeshi, this is Lynette. In the oppressive stillness of the empty room, the air is thick and heavy, wrapping around Lynette like a damp shroud. The stone slab beneath Lynette is cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth of Lynette's body. Every breath Lynette takes echoes softly in the void, a reminder of Lynette's solitude, as the pitch-black darkness envelops Lynette completely, swallowing any hope of orientation or escape. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beeping of the red camera light in the corner. It blinks steadily, a persistent pulse in the darkness, casting a dim crimson glow that flickers across the rough stone walls. The light barely illuminates the edges of the room, creating shifting shadows that dance and loom, adding to the disorienting atmosphere. Lynette can feel the weight of the darkness pressing in, as if the very walls are closing in around Lynette, constricting all thoughts and amplifying all sense of isolation. Every now and then, the sound of Lynette's heartbeat seems to synchronize with the blinking light, a reminder of life in a place that feels so devoid of it. The air is stale, suggesting neglect, and a faint metallic tang lingers, suggesting the remnants of something long forgotten. As Lynette lays there, Lynette becomes acutely aware of the sensation of time stretching endlessly, each second elongating into an eternity. Lynette's thoughts drift, spiraling into the depths of Lynette's mind, echoing with questions that have no answers... At least, for now.
Takeshi would, whilst still on his motorbike, bring a hand to his mouth to grip the fingertip of his biking glove in his teeth and tug the thing off. He reaches into his jacket's inner pocket and checks out the lock screen of his phone "Eh? A slave?" He asks himself outloud, his eyebrows raising up and a grin coming over his face "Demon Kings have slaves ... Right?" He asks, his eyes flicking up as the rear of the car in front of him rapidly approaches, a red light having appeared which had brought traffic to a stop whilst he'd still been cruising a long at 80.
His hand snatches to the handlebars, the screen of his phone cracking as he slams it into the handle and then grips the handle with the phone still in his hand. He had not time to think about that though as he filters between lanes in order to just not slam into the car behind him, and then unable to stop in time blasts past the red light! The loud horn of a fourteen wheeler blaring at him as he's lit up in the headlights!
Takeshi brings his bike down to it's side, drawing a tight arc with burns rubber into black, nasty smoke, his engine revving loud and his tyres screeching as he turns the corner, managing to bring his back to the fourteen wheeler charging towards him and then picking up enough speed to not have it slam into him as he starts off down the road to town hall with an apologetic wave to the lorry driver behind him!
He checks his phone again, frowning at the cracked screen before tucking it away. "... I wonder if Obachan would be willing to lend me money to buy a slave ..."
A soft frown would touch Lynette lips the moment she realized Takeshi left a cardboard cut out of himself around. Of course he did. Such tomfoolery wouldn't stop Lynette from enjoying such a lovely day however. Her sweet voice sighs, her peace only interrupted by the rough hand of a howling wind. She stiffens, turning her gaze towards the wind with one eye closed. Something felt... wrong. Very wrong. A prickling sensation starts at the base of her neck and just before she can embrace the panic welding inside her- her vision was gone.
Color and sounds all drip away with a startled gasp. By the time her senses return something was wrong, very wrong. This was not the lovely warmth of a dazzling sun. It was cold. "Wha... what the fuck-" Lynette groans, attempting to sit up and feel her surroundings. It was an empty room with the taste of mold in the air. She begins to desperately feel around the walls for any sign of a clue as to what happened to her.
The oppressive stillness of the ten-foot square room envelops Lynette like a thick fog, a silence punctuated only by the rhythmic blinking of the red camera light; a solitary sentinel in the encroaching darkness. Shadows loom like specters, vague and undefined; each corner a potential hiding place for unseen threats. The air is heavy, thick with anticipation and dread, as if the walls themselves are pressing in, urging Lynette to take action yet warning Lynette to remain still. From far away, muffled voices drift through the oppressive silence, a dissonant murmur that twists Lynette's gut with anxiety. Lynette strains to decipher their meaning, but the words elude Lynette, lost in the void of Lynette's isolation. Each syllable feels like a taunt-- a reminder of Lynette's powerlessness in this hostile bubble. Lynette's heart pounds in her chest, echoing like a drum in the vast emptiness, a harsh, unforgiving reminder of Lynette's weak humanity in the face of the unknown. What lurks in the shadows? Are they watching Lynette The thought gnaws at Lynette's mind as the frustration of Lynette's situation mounts. Lynette wants to scream, to shout and demand answers, but the darkness swallows Lynette's voice. The urge to flee clashes with the reality of Lynette's confinement; theres no visible exit, only the oppressive weight of uncertainty. Lynette is suspended in a moment that feels infinite, trapped in a limbo of fear and desperation, waiting for some sign, some flicker of hope in the suffocating darkness, the sensations Lynette feels pounding-- throbbing with the druggs that keep Lynette docile and complient-- Though allowing the fear to flow from Lynette in waves that surely any demon could feel-- The roar of the motorcycle engine reverberates through the air, a primal vibration-- A demonic sound that cuts through the stillness of the town of Haven, leaving a trail of adrenaline in its wake. Takeshi dances through the streets, the wind whipping against Takeshi's face, a rush of freedom mingled with the thrill of danger. Beech Street falls away behind Takeshi as Takeshi navigates the labyrinth of asphalt and concrete, Takeshi's heart racing with every near miss and sharp turn. As Takeshi crosses Franklin Bridge, the bay glistens beneath the cold winter sunlight, a shimmering expanse that belies the darkness lurking beneath its surface. Haven town hall looms ahead, a bastion of power and authority, its presence both inviting and foreboding. Takeshi skids to a halt, the tires screeching against the asphalt as Takeshi leaps off the bike, looking heroically awsome, though urgency propelling Takeshi forward. The stairs to the auction hall rise before Takeshi each step a drumbeat of anticipation as Takeshi ascends in the coolest way possible, coat billowing in the wind like Blade, Neo, or something equally as badass. The air grows thick with the scent of polished wood and stale air, the remnants of countless transactions echoing in the silence. Takeshi bursts through the doors of the southern meeting room, Takeshi's pulse quickening as he takes in the scene-- a vast space, empty yet laden with tension. The auctioneer stands alone, a figure-- A demonborn like Takeshi, though less badass looking, suited and well coifed, draped in shadows, waiting with a practiced smile that does little to mask the unease of an unfilled room. The absence of bidders hangs heavy in the air, an unsettling quiet that amplifies Takeshi's own heartbeat. Takeshi is the only soul here, the solitary wolf in a den of greed and desperation. The stakes are high, and the atmosphere crackles with potential, a potent blend of ambition and darkness. It might be possible that Takeshi could buy this slave for as little as a dollar. Wouldn't that be fucking fire? As Takeshi stands at the threshold of this clandestine world, the thrill of possibility surges through Takeshi. What will Takeshi bid for? Whose fate will Takeshi hold in his hands? The silence before the storm is deafening, and Takeshi is poised to make his mark in a game that could change everything-- Looks like Lynette isn't going to have a good time of it either way, though at least Takeshi gets to look like a cool demonic hero, right?
Takeshi screeches to a halt in front of the town hall, kicking down the kickstand and hopping up and off the bike. He's still at a slight jog as he makes his way over to the auctioneer, a grin across his face as he rubs his palms together greedily. "One slave please!" He announces, not seeming quite sure how to handle these situations, but knowing that the first oppressed denizen of his demonic kingdom was about to be secured!
"Oh, and, make her a real cutie! If you've got any cute girls, I want one of those!" He Demands quite snottily. If Takeshi was a hero, he was not one today. He was here to simply partake in the abusive system. 'twas the Japanese way.
Lynette' head felt fuzzy and weighed down. She would take a momemt to consider the possibility that she's been drugged? That would be a decent answer to many of those confusing events. Every noise her ears would twitch to, as if her entire being was kn edge with the looming threat of the unknown. All clues slipping like sand through her fingers as she claws at her cold, isolated walls, desperate for an exit. "How... did I even get in here?" she muddles over softly. No exit also means no entrance, right? That doesn't make sense either...
The fear would start to swell inside of her. Mostly the idea of living would a little luxury was something this drama queen couldn't bare the thought of. Even so, she slinks down the wall slowly onto her bottom. Clawing at walls would only serve to destroy her pretty nails after all. "Eventually someone will show their face... right?"
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens someone' anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of Takeshi's neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens Takeshi's anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
Takeshi is gunna need a repost, you posted that right as I sent a tell
If you both give me a couple of minutes, I'll run you both back to Rit's
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of Takeshi's neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens Takeshi's anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
(An artifact of significant power has been unearthed in Haven, causing a disruption in the balance of supernatural forces in town. The Golden Shadow has been hired to retrieve it, but they want to keep it for themselves to increase their wealth and power. Your target has been tasked with either retrieving the artifact before The Golden Shadow can secure it, or convincing them to hand it over peacefully.)
Mercenaries. Always such a fun group of guys. Makeshift armies driven by greed and directed by the highest bidder. Everyone loves those, right? Of course! Especially when they come trompsing into small towns in the middle of the night, raising a HELL of a ruckus. At least, surely, that would be the case. And poor Ashe just happens to be up the block as the chirps and buzzes and blips of what might be comms systems echo down through the empty, snowy streets. Winding down for the evening would be perfect right about now. Cup of tea, layer of blankets, trashy reality TV or a good book. Something gentle.
Ashe doesn't get that. Not tonight, at least. There's a genuine THRUM of energy that seems to ripple up the street towards the foundations of the home she is staying in. The building's walls shake, and then there are flashlights, or, more accurately, floodlights, blazing in through windows, flashing quickly on-and-off as if part of some sort of search party.
Takeshi's arrival at the auction, with his nonchalant request for a "cute" slave, juxtaposes his earlier carefree demeanor with the grim proceedings of the auction hall. His impulsive participation in Lynette's auction, driven by a mix of naïveté and a misplaced sense of heroism, results in an unexpected twist of fate. Winning Lynette for a mere dollar, Takeshi unwittingly transitions from an exhilarated motorcyclist to Lynette's savior. Despite his unconventional method, he ensures Lynette's safety, pulling her out of the grips of a potentially cruel fate. Their reunion, under the bizarre and dramatic circumstances, highlights the unpredictable nature of their existence in Haven. As they prepare to return to their sanctuary, the narrative leaves one pondering the repercussions of Takeshi's actions and the future that awaits both Lynette and him in the wake of this harrowing experience.
(Lynette's odd encounter(SREdith):SREdith)
[Wed Feb 26 2025]
In an Entrance Hall and Kitchen
The entrance to the shrine home is simple and elegant. The entrance is made up out of a smooth stone floor at the genkan, the traditional Japanese entryway. A small, neatly arranged rack holds different pairs of women oriented shoes, while a low wooden bench offers a place to sit and remove footwear before stepping up onto the polished wooden floors of the main home. Above, an overhead beam made from dark cedar wood bears hand-carved motifs of swirling clouds and sacred cranes, symbols of longevity and protection.
To the side, the kitchen area appears to be both functional and minimalist. A simple wooden counter, free of clutter, holds carefully arranged utensils and a ceramic tea set. A black iron kettle sits atop a traditional stove. Small shelves on the wall display earthenware jars containing rice, miso, and other essentials, each jar decorated with intricate calligraphy.
It is afternoon, about 27F(-2C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing outside.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)
Lynette just woke up after a well deserved nap. She stretches tall with a deep yawn, stumbling out of her room. It was one measly sparring session she wasnt even hurt during, yet if you asked her it took all her energy for the day to participate. "Good second morning, Tank," Lynette hums as she spots a familiar fellow.
Takeshi is racing through town! Weaving through traffic at a speed far beyond what is safe, he revvs his Kawasaki Ninja loud! Too cool for silly things like protective gear, his flowing Hakama pants and Haori jacket flap noisily in the wind with Takeshi holding a dumb grin on his face. He was thoroughly enjoying placing himself and everyone else around him on the road into mortal danger!
Strapped to his back was the dark black scabbard of an obsidian sword, a scarlet saego string tightly binding the handle to the scabbard, preventing it from being drawn. A organic claw like material formed an eyelid at the guard of the sword, tightly shut for now, as if asleep ...
Takeshi had, of course, left a cardboard cutout of himself hitting a cool ass pose in Lynette's room. Just in case she got lonely whilst she was napping.
Takeshi, having left the cutout of himself (because of course he did. Takeshi is just that cool!) he leaves to ride his bike around town; He's likely showing off, and Lynette is likely used to such things. The spar was rough, but by no means more so than what takes place next-- The afternoon outside the town of Haven begins with a delicate hush that blankets the landscape; Soft tendrils of mist cling to the ground, swirling around the skeletal branches of leafless trees within the forest and drifting along Forest View Drive, their silhouettes stark against the pale sky. The air is crisp and carries the faint scent of frost, hinting at winter's lingering grip upon the world, even now. A golden hue creeps over the horizon, casting long shadows and illuminating the world in a soft, ethereal light. Outside, birds chirp in a distant chorus, their melodies woven into the serene tapestry of the seemingly quiet daylight. The peaceful soundscape is punctuated by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of snow underfoot from the roadway, as if the earth itself is whispering secrets. Lynette feels a sense of calm, an unshakeable feeling that all is right in this moment, as Lynette takes in the tranquil beauty surrounding her... But then, without warning, the atmosphere shifts. A sudden gust of wind slices through the stillness, an unexpected force that carries an unsettling chill. It howls like a specter, turning the serene morning into a chaotic dance of swirling leaves and loose debris. The temperature drops, and a tingling sensation prickles at the back of Lynette's neck, sending a shiver down her spine. In an instant, the world around Lynette blurs-- colors fade, sounds distort, and a piercing sensation shoots through Lynette's very soul; sharp and invasive. With a gasp, Lynette's senses are overwhelmed, and the last vestiges of awareness slip away, leaving Lynette insensate amid the chaos. The town of Haven, however cares little. It continues in perpetuity, with life creeping inexerably forward, unaware of what has even taken place. Which of course is when Takeshi finds his phone pinging-- There is an auction taking place in the southern room of the town hall. A diplomatic event is what it is called, though Takeshi knows the truth. Someone-- But who? Was kidnapped by the syndicate, and there will be an auction to bid for their capture and sale to the highest bidder. Unknown to Takeshi, this is Lynette. In the oppressive stillness of the empty room, the air is thick and heavy, wrapping around Lynette like a damp shroud. The stone slab beneath Lynette is cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth of Lynette's body. Every breath Lynette takes echoes softly in the void, a reminder of Lynette's solitude, as the pitch-black darkness envelops Lynette completely, swallowing any hope of orientation or escape. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beeping of the red camera light in the corner. It blinks steadily, a persistent pulse in the darkness, casting a dim crimson glow that flickers across the rough stone walls. The light barely illuminates the edges of the room, creating shifting shadows that dance and loom, adding to the disorienting atmosphere. Lynette can feel the weight of the darkness pressing in, as if the very walls are closing in around Lynette, constricting all thoughts and amplifying all sense of isolation. Every now and then, the sound of Lynette's heartbeat seems to synchronize with the blinking light, a reminder of life in a place that feels so devoid of it. The air is stale, suggesting neglect, and a faint metallic tang lingers, suggesting the remnants of something long forgotten. As Lynette lays there, Lynette becomes acutely aware of the sensation of time stretching endlessly, each second elongating into an eternity. Lynette's thoughts drift, spiraling into the depths of Lynette's mind, echoing with questions that have no answers... At least, for now.
Takeshi would, whilst still on his motorbike, bring a hand to his mouth to grip the fingertip of his biking glove in his teeth and tug the thing off. He reaches into his jacket's inner pocket and checks out the lock screen of his phone "Eh? A slave?" He asks himself outloud, his eyebrows raising up and a grin coming over his face "Demon Kings have slaves ... Right?" He asks, his eyes flicking up as the rear of the car in front of him rapidly approaches, a red light having appeared which had brought traffic to a stop whilst he'd still been cruising a long at 80.
His hand snatches to the handlebars, the screen of his phone cracking as he slams it into the handle and then grips the handle with the phone still in his hand. He had not time to think about that though as he filters between lanes in order to just not slam into the car behind him, and then unable to stop in time blasts past the red light! The loud horn of a fourteen wheeler blaring at him as he's lit up in the headlights!
Takeshi brings his bike down to it's side, drawing a tight arc with burns rubber into black, nasty smoke, his engine revving loud and his tyres screeching as he turns the corner, managing to bring his back to the fourteen wheeler charging towards him and then picking up enough speed to not have it slam into him as he starts off down the road to town hall with an apologetic wave to the lorry driver behind him!
He checks his phone again, frowning at the cracked screen before tucking it away. "... I wonder if Obachan would be willing to lend me money to buy a slave ..."
A soft frown would touch Lynette lips the moment she realized Takeshi left a cardboard cut out of himself around. Of course he did. Such tomfoolery wouldn't stop Lynette from enjoying such a lovely day however. Her sweet voice sighs, her peace only interrupted by the rough hand of a howling wind. She stiffens, turning her gaze towards the wind with one eye closed. Something felt... wrong. Very wrong. A prickling sensation starts at the base of her neck and just before she can embrace the panic welding inside her- her vision was gone.
Color and sounds all drip away with a startled gasp. By the time her senses return something was wrong, very wrong. This was not the lovely warmth of a dazzling sun. It was cold. "Wha... what the fuck-" Lynette groans, attempting to sit up and feel her surroundings. It was an empty room with the taste of mold in the air. She begins to desperately feel around the walls for any sign of a clue as to what happened to her.
The oppressive stillness of the ten-foot square room envelops Lynette like a thick fog, a silence punctuated only by the rhythmic blinking of the red camera light; a solitary sentinel in the encroaching darkness. Shadows loom like specters, vague and undefined; each corner a potential hiding place for unseen threats. The air is heavy, thick with anticipation and dread, as if the walls themselves are pressing in, urging Lynette to take action yet warning Lynette to remain still. From far away, muffled voices drift through the oppressive silence, a dissonant murmur that twists Lynette's gut with anxiety. Lynette strains to decipher their meaning, but the words elude Lynette, lost in the void of Lynette's isolation. Each syllable feels like a taunt-- a reminder of Lynette's powerlessness in this hostile bubble. Lynette's heart pounds in her chest, echoing like a drum in the vast emptiness, a harsh, unforgiving reminder of Lynette's weak humanity in the face of the unknown. What lurks in the shadows? Are they watching Lynette The thought gnaws at Lynette's mind as the frustration of Lynette's situation mounts. Lynette wants to scream, to shout and demand answers, but the darkness swallows Lynette's voice. The urge to flee clashes with the reality of Lynette's confinement; theres no visible exit, only the oppressive weight of uncertainty. Lynette is suspended in a moment that feels infinite, trapped in a limbo of fear and desperation, waiting for some sign, some flicker of hope in the suffocating darkness, the sensations Lynette feels pounding-- throbbing with the druggs that keep Lynette docile and complient-- Though allowing the fear to flow from Lynette in waves that surely any demon could feel-- The roar of the motorcycle engine reverberates through the air, a primal vibration-- A demonic sound that cuts through the stillness of the town of Haven, leaving a trail of adrenaline in its wake. Takeshi dances through the streets, the wind whipping against Takeshi's face, a rush of freedom mingled with the thrill of danger. Beech Street falls away behind Takeshi as Takeshi navigates the labyrinth of asphalt and concrete, Takeshi's heart racing with every near miss and sharp turn. As Takeshi crosses Franklin Bridge, the bay glistens beneath the cold winter sunlight, a shimmering expanse that belies the darkness lurking beneath its surface. Haven town hall looms ahead, a bastion of power and authority, its presence both inviting and foreboding. Takeshi skids to a halt, the tires screeching against the asphalt as Takeshi leaps off the bike, looking heroically awsome, though urgency propelling Takeshi forward. The stairs to the auction hall rise before Takeshi each step a drumbeat of anticipation as Takeshi ascends in the coolest way possible, coat billowing in the wind like Blade, Neo, or something equally as badass. The air grows thick with the scent of polished wood and stale air, the remnants of countless transactions echoing in the silence. Takeshi bursts through the doors of the southern meeting room, Takeshi's pulse quickening as he takes in the scene-- a vast space, empty yet laden with tension. The auctioneer stands alone, a figure-- A demonborn like Takeshi, though less badass looking, suited and well coifed, draped in shadows, waiting with a practiced smile that does little to mask the unease of an unfilled room. The absence of bidders hangs heavy in the air, an unsettling quiet that amplifies Takeshi's own heartbeat. Takeshi is the only soul here, the solitary wolf in a den of greed and desperation. The stakes are high, and the atmosphere crackles with potential, a potent blend of ambition and darkness. It might be possible that Takeshi could buy this slave for as little as a dollar. Wouldn't that be fucking fire? As Takeshi stands at the threshold of this clandestine world, the thrill of possibility surges through Takeshi. What will Takeshi bid for? Whose fate will Takeshi hold in his hands? The silence before the storm is deafening, and Takeshi is poised to make his mark in a game that could change everything-- Looks like Lynette isn't going to have a good time of it either way, though at least Takeshi gets to look like a cool demonic hero, right?
Takeshi screeches to a halt in front of the town hall, kicking down the kickstand and hopping up and off the bike. He's still at a slight jog as he makes his way over to the auctioneer, a grin across his face as he rubs his palms together greedily. "One slave please!" He announces, not seeming quite sure how to handle these situations, but knowing that the first oppressed denizen of his demonic kingdom was about to be secured!
"Oh, and, make her a real cutie! If you've got any cute girls, I want one of those!" He Demands quite snottily. If Takeshi was a hero, he was not one today. He was here to simply partake in the abusive system. 'twas the Japanese way.
Lynette' head felt fuzzy and weighed down. She would take a momemt to consider the possibility that she's been drugged? That would be a decent answer to many of those confusing events. Every noise her ears would twitch to, as if her entire being was kn edge with the looming threat of the unknown. All clues slipping like sand through her fingers as she claws at her cold, isolated walls, desperate for an exit. "How... did I even get in here?" she muddles over softly. No exit also means no entrance, right? That doesn't make sense either...
The fear would start to swell inside of her. Mostly the idea of living would a little luxury was something this drama queen couldn't bare the thought of. Even so, she slinks down the wall slowly onto her bottom. Clawing at walls would only serve to destroy her pretty nails after all. "Eventually someone will show their face... right?"
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens someone' anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of Takeshi's neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens Takeshi's anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
Takeshi is gunna need a repost, you posted that right as I sent a tell
If you both give me a couple of minutes, I'll run you both back to Rit's
The air in the auction hall is thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that clings to the skin and makes the hairs on the back of Takeshi's neck stand on end. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crisp, wood-panneled walls, creating an atmosphere that feels both opulent and foreboding. The scent of polish hangs in the air, a reminder of the halls frequent use, and the faint echo of Takeshi's own breathing underscores the emptiness around Takeshi. The demonborn auctioneer stands behind a long, wooden table, his face obscured by a shadow, lending him an air of mystery that only heightens Takeshi's anticipation. He gestures toward Takeshi with a practiced calm, a thin smile sliding across his lips as he acknowledges Takeshi's bid. "One dollar," he says, the words echoing in the stillness of the room. The sound reverberates in Takeshi's chest, mingling with the drum of Takeshi's heart, the thrill of Takeshi's victory coursing through his veins like fire. Takeshi glances around, half-expecting someone to burst through the doors, but only the silence responds. Its just Takeshi and the auctioneer-- That and who ever is being soled- alone in this brightly lit purgatory, and the weight of that isolation feels intoxicating. The prospect of acquiring Takeshi's prize, a living being destined to serve, sends a rush of adrenaline through Takeshi No, Majin Takeshi, The demon king! This is what Takeshi came for, and the thrill of being the master of someone elses fate is almost too much to bear. The auctioneer leans in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You might be surprised by what youre about to receive," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something sinister. The promise of excitement hangs in the air, thick and palpable. "This ones a cutey. Perfect for well, you get my drift." His sly grin sends a shiver down even Takeshi's spine, hinting at the darker pleasures that await. As the seconds drag on, time feels elastic, stretching and twisting in a way that makes both Takeshi, and Lynette's anticipation feel almost unbearable. Takeshi finds himself imagining the possibilities, the power dynamics shifting in Takeshi's favor, and the thrill of exerting control. Takeshi won. Takeshi is the only one here, and the prize waiting for Takeshi is bound and ready; destined to be taken back to Ritsuka's shrine home on Forest View Drive. The clock ticks, and finally, the door creaks open, and the moment of truth arrives-- The auctioneer gestures toward the figure being led in-- bound, perhaps in more ways than one. The room feels electric, the tension crackling in the air as Takeshi's heart races. Takeshi has won, and soon, the prize will be his to command. Who is this prise? Who could it be? Is it a princess or a lusting, thirsting angelborn? ..... No, Takeshi recognizes her. That hair is obvious. It's lynette, and he has just claimed Lynette as his own through a legal transaction. Still, Lynette isn't imprisoned any more. Lynette is free, and wont be soled to anyone worse. Takeshi and Lynette are reunited. The day is won, and all can return to how it was. No one has to get hurt-- Unless something goes wrong-- Which it wont. Takeshi rescued Lynette. The day is saved. What a victory. Now the two get to return to Ritsuka's where Takeshi will have to explain this all away. What could possibly go wrong?
(An artifact of significant power has been unearthed in Haven, causing a disruption in the balance of supernatural forces in town. The Golden Shadow has been hired to retrieve it, but they want to keep it for themselves to increase their wealth and power. Your target has been tasked with either retrieving the artifact before The Golden Shadow can secure it, or convincing them to hand it over peacefully.)
Mercenaries. Always such a fun group of guys. Makeshift armies driven by greed and directed by the highest bidder. Everyone loves those, right? Of course! Especially when they come trompsing into small towns in the middle of the night, raising a HELL of a ruckus. At least, surely, that would be the case. And poor Ashe just happens to be up the block as the chirps and buzzes and blips of what might be comms systems echo down through the empty, snowy streets. Winding down for the evening would be perfect right about now. Cup of tea, layer of blankets, trashy reality TV or a good book. Something gentle.
Ashe doesn't get that. Not tonight, at least. There's a genuine THRUM of energy that seems to ripple up the street towards the foundations of the home she is staying in. The building's walls shake, and then there are flashlights, or, more accurately, floodlights, blazing in through windows, flashing quickly on-and-off as if part of some sort of search party.