Encounterlogs
Rileys Odd Encounter Sr Ceryn 241209
In the serene dusk of their bedroom, Riley and Luciano's evening took an ominous turn. Their comfortable surroundings morphed harrowingly into a decrepit, prison-like cell, complete with a rusted iron door and Victorian peeling wallpaper, replacing their cozy environment. A sense of foreboding escalated as the ticking of a clock grew deafening, culminating in the appearance of bloodshot eyes through a slit in the door. Their once familiar room now a cell, the duo found themselves facing an imposing, pallid figure in a dated military uniform, introducing an air of malice and command. The interaction took a darker turn when the officer, revealing himself to be connected to Luciano’s past with the Temple, demanded a cruel choice be made—forcing a gun with a single bullet for a deadly decision.
The situation reached a fever pitch as Luciano and Riley scrambled to defend themselves, their fear tangible as they wrestled the revolver from the officer's grasp. In a climactic moment of desperation and audacity, Luciano fired his own gun at the officer, the shots echoing in the transformed room. Their reality abruptly snapped back to normalcy as if the harrowing events were merely a figment of their imagination, leaving them in the quiet of their original bedroom, with only a single bullet casing as proof of their ordeal. Both bewildered and relieved, Riley and Luciano found solace in each other's presence, trying to reconcile the surreal experience with their sudden return to safety, pondering the bizarre and terrifying intersection of their past and present amidst the quiet city lights outside.
(Riley's odd encounter(SRCeryn):SRCeryn)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
In A comfortable, roomy bedroom
A decently sized bedroom, with Beige carpet and Navy Blue walls for a colorful appearance. With a ceiling fan-light combo in the middle of the ceiling, and a light bar fastened to the wall above the bed. With a large, king sized bed flanked by two bedside drawers. With a simple lamp on the right drawer, along with a plastic cup. A few outlets are scattered around the room.
A 5 drawer dresser is pushed into the left-hand corner of the room, with a tall wall mirror positioned to the side for changing. Along with an Italian flag and Sardinian flag set up beside each other on the walls. Framed near the entrace to the bedroom is a Cagliari Calcio jersey with 'CASSIANI' '38' in bold white letters on the back. Along with a few trophies and one medal on a wall mounted shelf.
It is after dusk, about 40F(4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
As dusk begins to cast it's amber glow throughout the room, the ambience of the city begins to fade. Daylife is replaced by nightlife, and the distant flickers of Haven's buildings begin to dot the approaching night. All seemed well as another evening, the pair curled up in bed with the warmth of eachother to keep them company. Yet, something was off. Something either of them could put their finger on.
The paced tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock of a clock started as a peripheral sound, distant and perhaps a mere trick of the mind after the day's exhaustion set into their minds. Yet, it grew louder, firm, seemingly matching the thump of their hearts that they became increasingly aware of. Then, with one last 'tock', the room flickered, a blink of an eye that they both experienced simultaneously.
The bed they had laid upon had been replaced with a bare, spring-laden and pipe-framed one, riddled with stains and tears. Any flags or memorabilia of the Mediterranean replaced by peeling, striped and dated Victorian wallpaper; the spiralled patterns faded in what could barely to be made out as something which was a rich red sometime in the distant past.
But, despite the sudden change in appearance, despite the reassuring lights of haven in the distant comfort that it was fading into a starless night sky. The thing which demanded their attention was the rusted iron door that had taken up residence opposite their bed. The frame was bolted into place, no handle visible and single slit for one to peek out... Or perhaps in by.
Luciano looked up from his phone as things slowly started to change. His eyes slowly blinking as his posters were replaced by old, decrepit wallpaper. Reminiscent of the last owners opulency and style. His hand slowly drifted to his pocket, sliding it away as he clasped both hands together. Letting out a quiet "Huh."
He glanced to Riley, cocking his head slightly. "Is thisssss... Part of your wholeeeeeee... Thing?"
Riley sits up slowly, looking to Luciano, eyes going wide as she gapes a little. Looking to Luciano before darting her eyes around the room, searching for an exit before she can even get the words out, "What? No... I don't... I don't think so." her form brushing further against his as she strains her ears to listen out in the dark.
As the two pressed together, that all-encompassing ticking of the clock only drew in magnitude, each one becoming deafening as if it was splitting wood with each note. Then, just as one would expect the 'tock', it was replaced with the rusted, whining SHUNT of the slit being yanked open, the iron straining against it's own mechanism.
There, across from them, the whites of bloodshot eyes could be made out. Someone, something, was staring at both of them in complete silence. Not a motion was made, merely that flat, delirious gaze that took in everything in the room, cemented in a drowning malice.
As if the patience of the room itself was drawing thin, the wallpaper continued to peel, curling from the top and sloughing off in waves that piled upon the rotten floorboards. This mounting tension only grew until all but bare, industrial concrete lined the room. At this point, one could only call it a cell. The breezy window that once gazed back into the town now always was a barred, tiny and rectangular viewport that barely gave reprieve to the dusty atmosphere.
Riley glances at Luciano, eyes wide as she clambers a hand under the bed's surface in a vein attempt to find her weapon beneath. She whispers in a frantic way only someone whose fight or flight just kicked in could, "Shit shit shit, what the fuck is that? What should we do?" she asks Luciano, her fingernails clattering against the concrete floor as it continues to search, those gold flecked blue irses flicking to the bloodshot whites somehow visible just beyond the veil.
Luciano just... -stared- at the mysterious figure. Inhaling sharply through his nose, puffing his chest out before letting out a long and frustrated exhale. "Iiiiii fucking hate this town." He uttered out quietly. "Riley... Relax..." He quietly spoke. "We'll be fine... Just be calm." The Italian slowly slid his legs off of the bed, standing upright as he kept reluctant eye-contact with the mysterious ghost. Curling his toes slightly as he tried to control his fear and panic. "What do you want?" He asked, possibly in vain, as he stared down the ghost.
The only thing that Riley's hand would find underneath the bed was a sticky, black ichor that carried the scent of rust and sulfur, clinging to her skin and languidly seeping a burning sensation into her pores. Meanwhile, Luciano's question merely echoes throughout the room, answered by nothing but the following 'SHUNT' that closed the slot again.
The moment that hung in the air after this was nothing but stale. The pooling tar that Riley had discovered continued it's molasses-paced stretch across the worm-burrowed flooring. Then, just as tension reached it's peak, the sound of a lock turning slooowly scraped against rusted metal, finally clicking into place.
The door swung open, revealing a tall, imposing figure wearing a dated, all-black military uniform and accompanying officer cap upon his clean-shaven head. His skin was pale, sickly-so, blotched with yellowing discolouring and moles. Most notably was the stylized sun that was pinned alongside several other metals, being very obviously the symbol of the temple to Luciano.
Riley shoots a look to Luciano, wiping her hand against the bed as she huddles next to him, trying to cover her body with his for modesty before whispering into his ear, "I'll follow your lead." eyes locking onto that figure as she tried to slow her breathing. This is made all the more difficult by the burning on her hand as she continues to wipe it against the mattress beneath them. Her eyes furrow as she looks at the uniform, inquisitive fury lighting in her expression, though she bites her tongue on any question that may be burning, cutting herself off before she can start, mouth opening, then closing before a sound can escape.
Luciano looked the man up and down, cocking his brow slightly. Looking down at himself - Woefully underdressed for the encounter. With his shirt proudly displaying that he feared women. Staring back up at the figure with a deep breath, shooting a closed mouth smile their way as he leaned his hand on the edge of the bed. "For once?" He snarked to Riley. Exhaling out a sigh to try and calm his rapidly racing heart-rate.
Closing the door behind him, the figure approaches the bed with a cold malice behind his eyes, hands folded behind his back. "Private Cassiani... Mind telling me what you're doing in bed with a..." His gaze trails over to Riley, disgust painted across his pallid and aged features, "Thing?" Is all he felt he needed to ask as he snapped his attention back to Luciano again.
Revealing from behind his back, the officer palms a M1917 revolver, snapping the chamber open and entering a single bullet. Spinning the handgun, he holds it by the barrel, handle towards the half-dressed man. "One bullet, either on yourself, on on her." He says firmly, unblinking attention boring into Luciano's soul.
Luciano pauses and slowly looks at Riley, before looking back to the figure. Slowly blinking... "A woman?"
Riley furrows her brow further face cringing as she asks, "I... I don't follow.". Looking the man over her eyes narrow on the revolver with great interest. "What's with the nineteen thirties Hugo Boss getup anyway?" she quips, voice wavering as the tension builds within' her.
"I'll pretend not to have heard that, Private Cassiani." The man clears his throat as his hand settles on the holster at his hip, "Are you disobeying orders, or merely stupid?" He asks with a snarl that tugs at his split lip. Even Riley's words seem to be completely disregarded by him, only offering her a momentary sneer as his clouded gaze ticks her way.
Luciano takes the old pistol in one hand, looking it over for a few seconds before rolling his eyes. Carefully lowering the gun to point down at the ground, "Yeahhhhhh, small problem - I'm no longer Temple." He admitted. Keeping his finger off the trigger as he looked the man over. "So, yeah, I'm disobeying orders." The man lifted his chin up slightly, glaring at the stranger as he stared him down.
Riley stares at Luciano, smacking her lips as she understands the situation, "Oh... you're his former boss. Was wondering when I'd get to meet someone from that group of... unsavory individuals." looking to Luciano shortly after she says this, her eyes trailing to the gun in his hand as she that tension in her body fades ever so slightly now that the pair seem to be armed at least a bit.
"Truly is a shame." The officer replies, tone betraying any actual care he had for the situation as his hand reached for the barrel of the revolver. How giant the man was became abruptly blatant as his hand viced Luciano's hold on the firearm. Steadily and through whatever strain necessary, he pushed and forced the barrel to sit under the former Templar's chin, forcing his grip to inch towards the trigger.
Luciano gasped as the large officer suddenly grabbed his wrist, jerking his entire body back as he lunged out a hand to try and strike the man in the nose with his fist. Leaping up with both hands to fall backwards and attempt to drive a kick into the man's face. Groaning at the grip as he tried to use his own size and skills to try and -flip- the man over him.
Riley moves to grab the man's hand as she attempts to force the pistol from his grip, digits attempting to claw between his digits to force the gun from his hand as Luciano makes his move, "Fuckin' warning would be appreciated!" she calls out as she wrestles for a moment for the gun, hoping to get it before Luciano pushes him out of her reach.
Between the two, they manage to wrestle the gun from the officer's grip, the bloodshot recesses of his eyes pooling into a dark blood as knuckles crash into his nose. The expletives that fall from his mouth are swirled and echoed, the language unknown and yet familiar as he attempts to pull himself back to his feet, but not before the two have a moment of opportunity.
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand, depressing his thumb into the safety as he flicked it off and aiming it towards the dazed officer. Not even bothering to aim down the sights or give any sort of delicate shooting, Instead electing to fire several shots into his chest in a rapid trio of shots.
Between the two, they manage to wrestle the gun from the officer's grip, the bloodshot recesses of his eyes pooling into a dark blood as knuckles crash into his nose. The expletives that fall from his mouth are swirled and echoed, the language unknown and yet familiar as he attempts to pull himself back to his feet, but not before the two have a moment of opportunity.
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand,
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand, depressing his thumb into the safety as he flicked it off and aiming it towards the dazed officer. Not even bothering to aim down the sights or give any sort of delicate shooting, Instead electing to fire several shots into his chest in a rapid trio of shots.
Riley points the pistol at the man, the revolver steady in her grip as she trains it on him while Luciano unloads. Her wincing seems to be more from the loud noise than the sight itself as she rubs her ear, calling out to Luciano "Is he dead? The fuck was that about?" her voice oddly steady as she asks the question. A hand moves to cover herself as she twists her legs to do the same when Luciano leaves her, leaving her hand to hold the revolver as skillfully as she can in her remaining hand towards the man's form.
The moment the hammer hits the primer, the crack of the firearm fills the room, light and sound melding into a blinding and sensory-depriving display. Not even a scream is heard, no thud of a body against the ground, no smell of gunpowder filling the air. It's merely... Done.
Once the split second fades, a memory which is harsh and cut into both of their minds, the two find themselves once again back in bed, huddled up, hands clean and as calm as the city lights in the distant. The only lingering evidence of anything that happened was a single bullet casing, still spinning to a stop upon the wooden flooring.
Luciano groans and rubs his ears, "Fffuck! Always hurts..." He whined. Looking around the room with a sigh as everything started to fade to normal. "Fucking... God, I hate this town."
Riley stares at Luciano, "What the actual fuck was that?" she asks, eyes wide while looking at the casing. She brings the blankets up to cover herself while snuggling in close to the man, cloaking herself around him, the disorientation making the movements difficult as her head rings from the noise and light of the shot.
(OOC:) So both of you need to throw me a tell on what stop you want me to drop you off at, hopefully you have your clothes in your inventory or it's going to be a tad awkward.
The situation reached a fever pitch as Luciano and Riley scrambled to defend themselves, their fear tangible as they wrestled the revolver from the officer's grasp. In a climactic moment of desperation and audacity, Luciano fired his own gun at the officer, the shots echoing in the transformed room. Their reality abruptly snapped back to normalcy as if the harrowing events were merely a figment of their imagination, leaving them in the quiet of their original bedroom, with only a single bullet casing as proof of their ordeal. Both bewildered and relieved, Riley and Luciano found solace in each other's presence, trying to reconcile the surreal experience with their sudden return to safety, pondering the bizarre and terrifying intersection of their past and present amidst the quiet city lights outside.
(Riley's odd encounter(SRCeryn):SRCeryn)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
In A comfortable, roomy bedroom
A decently sized bedroom, with Beige carpet and Navy Blue walls for a colorful appearance. With a ceiling fan-light combo in the middle of the ceiling, and a light bar fastened to the wall above the bed. With a large, king sized bed flanked by two bedside drawers. With a simple lamp on the right drawer, along with a plastic cup. A few outlets are scattered around the room.
A 5 drawer dresser is pushed into the left-hand corner of the room, with a tall wall mirror positioned to the side for changing. Along with an Italian flag and Sardinian flag set up beside each other on the walls. Framed near the entrace to the bedroom is a Cagliari Calcio jersey with 'CASSIANI' '38' in bold white letters on the back. Along with a few trophies and one medal on a wall mounted shelf.
It is after dusk, about 40F(4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
As dusk begins to cast it's amber glow throughout the room, the ambience of the city begins to fade. Daylife is replaced by nightlife, and the distant flickers of Haven's buildings begin to dot the approaching night. All seemed well as another evening, the pair curled up in bed with the warmth of eachother to keep them company. Yet, something was off. Something either of them could put their finger on.
The paced tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock of a clock started as a peripheral sound, distant and perhaps a mere trick of the mind after the day's exhaustion set into their minds. Yet, it grew louder, firm, seemingly matching the thump of their hearts that they became increasingly aware of. Then, with one last 'tock', the room flickered, a blink of an eye that they both experienced simultaneously.
The bed they had laid upon had been replaced with a bare, spring-laden and pipe-framed one, riddled with stains and tears. Any flags or memorabilia of the Mediterranean replaced by peeling, striped and dated Victorian wallpaper; the spiralled patterns faded in what could barely to be made out as something which was a rich red sometime in the distant past.
But, despite the sudden change in appearance, despite the reassuring lights of haven in the distant comfort that it was fading into a starless night sky. The thing which demanded their attention was the rusted iron door that had taken up residence opposite their bed. The frame was bolted into place, no handle visible and single slit for one to peek out... Or perhaps in by.
Luciano looked up from his phone as things slowly started to change. His eyes slowly blinking as his posters were replaced by old, decrepit wallpaper. Reminiscent of the last owners opulency and style. His hand slowly drifted to his pocket, sliding it away as he clasped both hands together. Letting out a quiet "Huh."
He glanced to Riley, cocking his head slightly. "Is thisssss... Part of your wholeeeeeee... Thing?"
Riley sits up slowly, looking to Luciano, eyes going wide as she gapes a little. Looking to Luciano before darting her eyes around the room, searching for an exit before she can even get the words out, "What? No... I don't... I don't think so." her form brushing further against his as she strains her ears to listen out in the dark.
As the two pressed together, that all-encompassing ticking of the clock only drew in magnitude, each one becoming deafening as if it was splitting wood with each note. Then, just as one would expect the 'tock', it was replaced with the rusted, whining SHUNT of the slit being yanked open, the iron straining against it's own mechanism.
There, across from them, the whites of bloodshot eyes could be made out. Someone, something, was staring at both of them in complete silence. Not a motion was made, merely that flat, delirious gaze that took in everything in the room, cemented in a drowning malice.
As if the patience of the room itself was drawing thin, the wallpaper continued to peel, curling from the top and sloughing off in waves that piled upon the rotten floorboards. This mounting tension only grew until all but bare, industrial concrete lined the room. At this point, one could only call it a cell. The breezy window that once gazed back into the town now always was a barred, tiny and rectangular viewport that barely gave reprieve to the dusty atmosphere.
Riley glances at Luciano, eyes wide as she clambers a hand under the bed's surface in a vein attempt to find her weapon beneath. She whispers in a frantic way only someone whose fight or flight just kicked in could, "Shit shit shit, what the fuck is that? What should we do?" she asks Luciano, her fingernails clattering against the concrete floor as it continues to search, those gold flecked blue irses flicking to the bloodshot whites somehow visible just beyond the veil.
Luciano just... -stared- at the mysterious figure. Inhaling sharply through his nose, puffing his chest out before letting out a long and frustrated exhale. "Iiiiii fucking hate this town." He uttered out quietly. "Riley... Relax..." He quietly spoke. "We'll be fine... Just be calm." The Italian slowly slid his legs off of the bed, standing upright as he kept reluctant eye-contact with the mysterious ghost. Curling his toes slightly as he tried to control his fear and panic. "What do you want?" He asked, possibly in vain, as he stared down the ghost.
The only thing that Riley's hand would find underneath the bed was a sticky, black ichor that carried the scent of rust and sulfur, clinging to her skin and languidly seeping a burning sensation into her pores. Meanwhile, Luciano's question merely echoes throughout the room, answered by nothing but the following 'SHUNT' that closed the slot again.
The moment that hung in the air after this was nothing but stale. The pooling tar that Riley had discovered continued it's molasses-paced stretch across the worm-burrowed flooring. Then, just as tension reached it's peak, the sound of a lock turning slooowly scraped against rusted metal, finally clicking into place.
The door swung open, revealing a tall, imposing figure wearing a dated, all-black military uniform and accompanying officer cap upon his clean-shaven head. His skin was pale, sickly-so, blotched with yellowing discolouring and moles. Most notably was the stylized sun that was pinned alongside several other metals, being very obviously the symbol of the temple to Luciano.
Riley shoots a look to Luciano, wiping her hand against the bed as she huddles next to him, trying to cover her body with his for modesty before whispering into his ear, "I'll follow your lead." eyes locking onto that figure as she tried to slow her breathing. This is made all the more difficult by the burning on her hand as she continues to wipe it against the mattress beneath them. Her eyes furrow as she looks at the uniform, inquisitive fury lighting in her expression, though she bites her tongue on any question that may be burning, cutting herself off before she can start, mouth opening, then closing before a sound can escape.
Luciano looked the man up and down, cocking his brow slightly. Looking down at himself - Woefully underdressed for the encounter. With his shirt proudly displaying that he feared women. Staring back up at the figure with a deep breath, shooting a closed mouth smile their way as he leaned his hand on the edge of the bed. "For once?" He snarked to Riley. Exhaling out a sigh to try and calm his rapidly racing heart-rate.
Closing the door behind him, the figure approaches the bed with a cold malice behind his eyes, hands folded behind his back. "Private Cassiani... Mind telling me what you're doing in bed with a..." His gaze trails over to Riley, disgust painted across his pallid and aged features, "Thing?" Is all he felt he needed to ask as he snapped his attention back to Luciano again.
Revealing from behind his back, the officer palms a M1917 revolver, snapping the chamber open and entering a single bullet. Spinning the handgun, he holds it by the barrel, handle towards the half-dressed man. "One bullet, either on yourself, on on her." He says firmly, unblinking attention boring into Luciano's soul.
Luciano pauses and slowly looks at Riley, before looking back to the figure. Slowly blinking... "A woman?"
Riley furrows her brow further face cringing as she asks, "I... I don't follow.". Looking the man over her eyes narrow on the revolver with great interest. "What's with the nineteen thirties Hugo Boss getup anyway?" she quips, voice wavering as the tension builds within' her.
"I'll pretend not to have heard that, Private Cassiani." The man clears his throat as his hand settles on the holster at his hip, "Are you disobeying orders, or merely stupid?" He asks with a snarl that tugs at his split lip. Even Riley's words seem to be completely disregarded by him, only offering her a momentary sneer as his clouded gaze ticks her way.
Luciano takes the old pistol in one hand, looking it over for a few seconds before rolling his eyes. Carefully lowering the gun to point down at the ground, "Yeahhhhhh, small problem - I'm no longer Temple." He admitted. Keeping his finger off the trigger as he looked the man over. "So, yeah, I'm disobeying orders." The man lifted his chin up slightly, glaring at the stranger as he stared him down.
Riley stares at Luciano, smacking her lips as she understands the situation, "Oh... you're his former boss. Was wondering when I'd get to meet someone from that group of... unsavory individuals." looking to Luciano shortly after she says this, her eyes trailing to the gun in his hand as she that tension in her body fades ever so slightly now that the pair seem to be armed at least a bit.
"Truly is a shame." The officer replies, tone betraying any actual care he had for the situation as his hand reached for the barrel of the revolver. How giant the man was became abruptly blatant as his hand viced Luciano's hold on the firearm. Steadily and through whatever strain necessary, he pushed and forced the barrel to sit under the former Templar's chin, forcing his grip to inch towards the trigger.
Luciano gasped as the large officer suddenly grabbed his wrist, jerking his entire body back as he lunged out a hand to try and strike the man in the nose with his fist. Leaping up with both hands to fall backwards and attempt to drive a kick into the man's face. Groaning at the grip as he tried to use his own size and skills to try and -flip- the man over him.
Riley moves to grab the man's hand as she attempts to force the pistol from his grip, digits attempting to claw between his digits to force the gun from his hand as Luciano makes his move, "Fuckin' warning would be appreciated!" she calls out as she wrestles for a moment for the gun, hoping to get it before Luciano pushes him out of her reach.
Between the two, they manage to wrestle the gun from the officer's grip, the bloodshot recesses of his eyes pooling into a dark blood as knuckles crash into his nose. The expletives that fall from his mouth are swirled and echoed, the language unknown and yet familiar as he attempts to pull himself back to his feet, but not before the two have a moment of opportunity.
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand, depressing his thumb into the safety as he flicked it off and aiming it towards the dazed officer. Not even bothering to aim down the sights or give any sort of delicate shooting, Instead electing to fire several shots into his chest in a rapid trio of shots.
Between the two, they manage to wrestle the gun from the officer's grip, the bloodshot recesses of his eyes pooling into a dark blood as knuckles crash into his nose. The expletives that fall from his mouth are swirled and echoed, the language unknown and yet familiar as he attempts to pull himself back to his feet, but not before the two have a moment of opportunity.
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand,
Luciano reaches out and takes his own pistol off of his nightstand, depressing his thumb into the safety as he flicked it off and aiming it towards the dazed officer. Not even bothering to aim down the sights or give any sort of delicate shooting, Instead electing to fire several shots into his chest in a rapid trio of shots.
Riley points the pistol at the man, the revolver steady in her grip as she trains it on him while Luciano unloads. Her wincing seems to be more from the loud noise than the sight itself as she rubs her ear, calling out to Luciano "Is he dead? The fuck was that about?" her voice oddly steady as she asks the question. A hand moves to cover herself as she twists her legs to do the same when Luciano leaves her, leaving her hand to hold the revolver as skillfully as she can in her remaining hand towards the man's form.
The moment the hammer hits the primer, the crack of the firearm fills the room, light and sound melding into a blinding and sensory-depriving display. Not even a scream is heard, no thud of a body against the ground, no smell of gunpowder filling the air. It's merely... Done.
Once the split second fades, a memory which is harsh and cut into both of their minds, the two find themselves once again back in bed, huddled up, hands clean and as calm as the city lights in the distant. The only lingering evidence of anything that happened was a single bullet casing, still spinning to a stop upon the wooden flooring.
Luciano groans and rubs his ears, "Fffuck! Always hurts..." He whined. Looking around the room with a sigh as everything started to fade to normal. "Fucking... God, I hate this town."
Riley stares at Luciano, "What the actual fuck was that?" she asks, eyes wide while looking at the casing. She brings the blankets up to cover herself while snuggling in close to the man, cloaking herself around him, the disorientation making the movements difficult as her head rings from the noise and light of the shot.
(OOC:) So both of you need to throw me a tell on what stop you want me to drop you off at, hopefully you have your clothes in your inventory or it's going to be a tad awkward.