Encounterlogs
Ritsukas Odd Encounter Sr Edith 250221
In the eerie tranquility of Forest View Drive, Ritsuka, a formidable figure drenched in blood and holding a katana, emerges from her car into the chilly morning air, her presence a stark contrast to the serene and frosty surroundings of Haven. Tasked with extracting crucial information from a member of Vox Dei who has stolen vital research, Ritsuka's reputation as a fearsome leader precedes her, setting a tense backdrop for the unfolding drama. The information at stake is crucial for the Iron Camellia back in Japan and could have significant implications if it falls into the wrong hands, potentially attracting unwanted attention from Venice towards Ritsuka and her faction.
Upon entering the security building of Tsubaki, Ritsuka is met with a scene that commands attention: the serene yet shackled figure of an angelborn with wings pinned and chained, exuding an ancient and formidable presence despite her captivity. This paradoxical captive, adorned in ornate samurai armor and bearing the marks of both beauty and ancient wrath, holds the information Ritsuka needs. Faced with the delicate task of extracting this information without resorting to breaking a sanctuary spell, Ritsuka contemplates a brutal approach involving torturous interrogation methods. The atmosphere is heavy with tension and the anticipation of a diplomatic yet potentially violent confrontation, as Ritsuka bluntly demands the stolen data back, hinting at dire consequences for non-compliance, thus setting the stage for a confrontation that could either maintain the fragile balance of power or plunge them into further chaos.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SREdith):SREdith)
[Thu Feb 20 2025]
On Forest View Drive
Heading north and deeper into the forest, the lighting grows dim at best, filtering through tree branches to highlight the ruts and dips of the this simple dirt road. It is well-oaxked, however, designed to withstand summer storms and winter snows.
It is morning, about 12F(-11C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies have been tasked with extracting a piece of information from a member of an opposing faction or subfaction but they cannot break the understanding to do so.
)
Ritsuka closes the door to her car behind herself. The katana is still in her hand, and she is bloodied up, splays of blood adorn all of her clothing and some of her skin. It really makes her look even prettier at this dawn of another day. Her eyes briefly glance to the door of her house not far away.
The morning air is crisp and biting, with each breath a cloud of frosty vapor that dissipates quickly into the stillness; An emblematic reminder of the perpetual chill and mystery engendered by Haven itself. A muted light filters through the dark grey storm clouds overhead, casting a muted pallor over the landscape, the herald of what ever is to come, taunting Ritsuka with its very contrasting nature. The chill of late February clings to everything, and the occasional gust of wind sends a shiver through Ritsuka, all around, and the trees; Their skeletal branches stark against the heavy sky. Forest View Drive is alive with the sound of tires crunching over the icy stone-and-dirt roadway, the rhythmic whoosh of cars cutting through the cold air, ever so often punctuated by the honk of horns or shouting voices from across the way, or far off hunters in the forest-- Possibly even some of those involved in the dispute with the werewolf packs that rumors have been spread about over the past week. The distant rumble of engines and the occasional honk of horns create a symphony or mundanity, interspersed with the soft crunch of ice, the crack of twigs, and rustle of leaves under foot, for those brave enough to venture out on foot so close to the mysteries of the outer forest. The scent of burning wood wafts from nearby homes-- A reminder of the warmth that lies within the heart of all men and women, contrasting sharply with the frigid atmosphere around Ritsuka. To the west, the Tsubaki district buzzes with activity: the clatter of machinery, the echoing thuds of construction, and the occasional shout from workers; Male ad female breaking the morning's tranquility. Yet, as Ritsuka approaches her shrine house, where Kin'yoko's shrine has been sanctified, a sense of serenity envelops Ritsuka the comforting glow of the kitsune's rich golden warmth. The shrines stand timelessly, their structures adorned with intricate carvings and symbols of protection, offering an abrupt contrast to the chaos of the construction site-- The FrostCaller, Alabaster and others. Here, the air is infused with the faint scent of incense, and the soft sound of wind chimes tinkles gently from the snowflake within that of the FrostCaller's, wrapping Ritsuka in a soft, warming cocoon of peace and eidolons protection. The surrounding forest-- Blanketed in a soft layer of frost, is a still sanctuary. The trees stand tall and silent, their branches heavy with frost, creating a stark, beautiful backdrop to the thriving Camellia and there ever growing control over the outskirts of Haven. There is an eerie tranquility here; An absence of the usual cacophony of the supernatural world-- No howls of werewolves, no distant screams or shrieks of the unknown. Simply a quiet, unbroken stillness, as if nature-- And mundanity themselves are holding their breaths. In the distance, the town of Haven thrives, a juxtaposition of the natural and the supernatural. The mists swirl lazily from the supernatural gates, curling and twisting-- Hinting at the realms beyond, GuardRealm, Other, Hell, and the Wilds. The town is a hive of activity, where the mundane and the inordinary coexist, their lives intertwined in a delicate symbiotic balance. Yet, for this moment, all conspires, a fixation upon Ritsuka and her location, and all roads-- Those that lead to good and ill intent creates a destiny. And Ritsuka at the epecenter, finds that something is about to happen... Which is of course when Ritsuka's phone pings with a text. It is the Tsubaki security building. They have captured someone who has information that Ritsuka needs. Not for herself, but he Iron Camellia back in Japan. The instructions given suggest that Ritsuka -extracts- information from this person; A member of Vox Dei, apparently, who has stolen Hilaina Strahd's research, and was going to use it for their own secretive means. The issue though... This information is not to be shared; the Tsubaki No Tetsu need it, and if others find it, it may possibly cause Venice to start paying attention to them, and by extention, Ritsuka.
Ritsuka rolls her eyes. She had, broadly, kept a distance from any of the other cults and sects and groups, and Vox Dei was one of those she knew the least about, it does not even exist as an ideological enemy. All the same, she turns around, still covered in blood as she paces around the security building to the inner part of the courtyard, and then up a few brief stairs into the security building itself. Her mind rummages with ways to torture the guy, of course. There really was just two fates, they either will end up kept as a pet to feed regularly on, or, perhaps to his better fortune, killed. But she won't mention that of course. Freedom will be worded, but this freedom is far more one from life itself. At the least, she does sheath the katana, though even some of her own look at her with some small measure of fear, with how everyone has been quite terrified of her lately.
In the harsh light of the Tsubaki security building, the air is thick, pregnant with tension-- A palpable weight that hangs heavily over the scene, with everyone's breaths misting before them with the harsh, unforgiving weather of this february morning. Ritsuka steps in, and she is given looks of fear, but so too of respect; Ritsuka has proven to be a capable leader to the Iron Camellia. The very walls seem to whisper secrets of a forgotten era as Ritsuka's attention is drawn to the scene. Shadows dance across the room, flickering like restless spirits in the corners, as the flickering overhead lights struggle to fully illuminate the figure at the center of this impromptue gathering-- And there it is. There she stands, the serenely statuesque, though short angelborn, a paradox of beauty and captivity, light and shadow, malice and contentment in only that way that the ancient have. Her simple, aged Japanese garb clings to her form, a reminder of a time long past, the clothing possibly five hundred years old in design as Ritsuka judges from history, yet her presence commands the space like a celestial being descended to Earth. Even the soldiers around Ritsuka appear drawn to this slender young-looking woman, for her beauty is of mythology. Her ornate samurai-styled armor, glints dully in the low light, its ornate design and strangely crystalline construction tells tales of valor and honor, while the oni-masked kabuto helm rests on the table beside her, a silent sentinel that guards her secrets even when her features are exposed for all to see. Her features are exquisite, a perfect blend of ethereal beauty and youthful innocence, yet there is something ancient in that ancient young woman's gaze-- Her eyes are haunting things, those deep pools of amber, glowing like molten gold, seem to hold the weight of eons, inviting yet foreboding with the pent-up violence and pure wrath of the most ancient, who were trapped in obsidian tombs so that their malice could never get free. The spun obsidian of her braided hair catches the light, reflecting metallic hues of midnight as it flows down her back, framing her angelic visage. And from her back, the magnificent wings of the winged freed stretch out like a celestial cloak, shimmering with hints of starlight, and creating a stark contrast against the mundane surroundings, even though Ritsuka can see the burned and blackened feathers as they even now cling to those creamy white pinions. As Ritsuka watches, she sees that her soldiers have done well. Those wings have been pinned, the woman's formored form has been shackled, with weights preventing those wings from spreading fully. Around her, the security officers of Tsubaki No Tetsu's Iron Camellia move with a frenetic energy, their hushed voices blending into a low hum of anxious conversation as they regard the angelborn, dulling as Ritsuka steps in. They are an organized hive of activity, each one performing their duty with precision, yet the air is charged with uncertainty as they navigate this latest situation-- A freed could kill any of them, though she stands with plasidity, her gaze sweeping to Ritsuka, and that is when it becomes clear. Ritsuka sees tattoos on her face. The Tsubaki are unsure what to do because this woman is Yakuza-- And as all in the underworld know, women are disincentivised from that specific underworld grouping. Ritsuka's women cast wary glances at the angelborn, aware that beneath her serene facade lies a tempest of violence waiting to be unraveled. Despite her chains; Obsidian, Ritsuka's people know their craft and are well trained in matters of the supernatural, she remains stoic, an embodiment of tranquility amidst chaos. The sanctuary spell envelops her, a shimmering barrier that pulsates softly like a heartbeat, offering protection against the violence that looms in the air. It serves as a reminder that diplomacy is the only path forward, a delicate dance of words and intentions necessary to breach the walls surrounding her truth. So how will Ritsuka address this situation-- Venice attention, potential involvement from Vox Dei-- Or is this entirely Yakuza in origin? That is yet to be found, isn't it? Why did she want Hilaina's research?
Ah yes, diplomacy, it is always an option, and yet, there is ever some ways with which to trick and avoid sanctuary. Taking someone down deep undersea for one. Placing them down in deep caverns... Enrapturing... And it does not prevent some of the worst torture that the Chinese had used long ago. So Ritsuka's question is plain and simple. "Why are you here and stealing from us." Of course she also does reach forward, looking for the angelcollar to remove it, even if that means turning the freed angel partially nude. "That data is not meant to go to anyone else, it must be kept secret, Stradh's research is a problem. It may lead to the involvement from Venice. But if you prove resistant than we can make use of some of the water tortures that will drive you insane in a couple of hours, even with your regenerative abilities."
Of course, that means having a single drip of water perpetually drop onto the freed angel's forehead. "I really don't have the time for extensive diplomatic politics anymore, Emmanuel made sure to ruin such patience. So what is it going to be?"
Upon entering the security building of Tsubaki, Ritsuka is met with a scene that commands attention: the serene yet shackled figure of an angelborn with wings pinned and chained, exuding an ancient and formidable presence despite her captivity. This paradoxical captive, adorned in ornate samurai armor and bearing the marks of both beauty and ancient wrath, holds the information Ritsuka needs. Faced with the delicate task of extracting this information without resorting to breaking a sanctuary spell, Ritsuka contemplates a brutal approach involving torturous interrogation methods. The atmosphere is heavy with tension and the anticipation of a diplomatic yet potentially violent confrontation, as Ritsuka bluntly demands the stolen data back, hinting at dire consequences for non-compliance, thus setting the stage for a confrontation that could either maintain the fragile balance of power or plunge them into further chaos.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SREdith):SREdith)
[Thu Feb 20 2025]
On Forest View Drive
Heading north and deeper into the forest, the lighting grows dim at best, filtering through tree branches to highlight the ruts and dips of the this simple dirt road. It is well-oaxked, however, designed to withstand summer storms and winter snows.
It is morning, about 12F(-11C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies have been tasked with extracting a piece of information from a member of an opposing faction or subfaction but they cannot break the understanding to do so.
)
Ritsuka closes the door to her car behind herself. The katana is still in her hand, and she is bloodied up, splays of blood adorn all of her clothing and some of her skin. It really makes her look even prettier at this dawn of another day. Her eyes briefly glance to the door of her house not far away.
The morning air is crisp and biting, with each breath a cloud of frosty vapor that dissipates quickly into the stillness; An emblematic reminder of the perpetual chill and mystery engendered by Haven itself. A muted light filters through the dark grey storm clouds overhead, casting a muted pallor over the landscape, the herald of what ever is to come, taunting Ritsuka with its very contrasting nature. The chill of late February clings to everything, and the occasional gust of wind sends a shiver through Ritsuka, all around, and the trees; Their skeletal branches stark against the heavy sky. Forest View Drive is alive with the sound of tires crunching over the icy stone-and-dirt roadway, the rhythmic whoosh of cars cutting through the cold air, ever so often punctuated by the honk of horns or shouting voices from across the way, or far off hunters in the forest-- Possibly even some of those involved in the dispute with the werewolf packs that rumors have been spread about over the past week. The distant rumble of engines and the occasional honk of horns create a symphony or mundanity, interspersed with the soft crunch of ice, the crack of twigs, and rustle of leaves under foot, for those brave enough to venture out on foot so close to the mysteries of the outer forest. The scent of burning wood wafts from nearby homes-- A reminder of the warmth that lies within the heart of all men and women, contrasting sharply with the frigid atmosphere around Ritsuka. To the west, the Tsubaki district buzzes with activity: the clatter of machinery, the echoing thuds of construction, and the occasional shout from workers; Male ad female breaking the morning's tranquility. Yet, as Ritsuka approaches her shrine house, where Kin'yoko's shrine has been sanctified, a sense of serenity envelops Ritsuka the comforting glow of the kitsune's rich golden warmth. The shrines stand timelessly, their structures adorned with intricate carvings and symbols of protection, offering an abrupt contrast to the chaos of the construction site-- The FrostCaller, Alabaster and others. Here, the air is infused with the faint scent of incense, and the soft sound of wind chimes tinkles gently from the snowflake within that of the FrostCaller's, wrapping Ritsuka in a soft, warming cocoon of peace and eidolons protection. The surrounding forest-- Blanketed in a soft layer of frost, is a still sanctuary. The trees stand tall and silent, their branches heavy with frost, creating a stark, beautiful backdrop to the thriving Camellia and there ever growing control over the outskirts of Haven. There is an eerie tranquility here; An absence of the usual cacophony of the supernatural world-- No howls of werewolves, no distant screams or shrieks of the unknown. Simply a quiet, unbroken stillness, as if nature-- And mundanity themselves are holding their breaths. In the distance, the town of Haven thrives, a juxtaposition of the natural and the supernatural. The mists swirl lazily from the supernatural gates, curling and twisting-- Hinting at the realms beyond, GuardRealm, Other, Hell, and the Wilds. The town is a hive of activity, where the mundane and the inordinary coexist, their lives intertwined in a delicate symbiotic balance. Yet, for this moment, all conspires, a fixation upon Ritsuka and her location, and all roads-- Those that lead to good and ill intent creates a destiny. And Ritsuka at the epecenter, finds that something is about to happen... Which is of course when Ritsuka's phone pings with a text. It is the Tsubaki security building. They have captured someone who has information that Ritsuka needs. Not for herself, but he Iron Camellia back in Japan. The instructions given suggest that Ritsuka -extracts- information from this person; A member of Vox Dei, apparently, who has stolen Hilaina Strahd's research, and was going to use it for their own secretive means. The issue though... This information is not to be shared; the Tsubaki No Tetsu need it, and if others find it, it may possibly cause Venice to start paying attention to them, and by extention, Ritsuka.
Ritsuka rolls her eyes. She had, broadly, kept a distance from any of the other cults and sects and groups, and Vox Dei was one of those she knew the least about, it does not even exist as an ideological enemy. All the same, she turns around, still covered in blood as she paces around the security building to the inner part of the courtyard, and then up a few brief stairs into the security building itself. Her mind rummages with ways to torture the guy, of course. There really was just two fates, they either will end up kept as a pet to feed regularly on, or, perhaps to his better fortune, killed. But she won't mention that of course. Freedom will be worded, but this freedom is far more one from life itself. At the least, she does sheath the katana, though even some of her own look at her with some small measure of fear, with how everyone has been quite terrified of her lately.
In the harsh light of the Tsubaki security building, the air is thick, pregnant with tension-- A palpable weight that hangs heavily over the scene, with everyone's breaths misting before them with the harsh, unforgiving weather of this february morning. Ritsuka steps in, and she is given looks of fear, but so too of respect; Ritsuka has proven to be a capable leader to the Iron Camellia. The very walls seem to whisper secrets of a forgotten era as Ritsuka's attention is drawn to the scene. Shadows dance across the room, flickering like restless spirits in the corners, as the flickering overhead lights struggle to fully illuminate the figure at the center of this impromptue gathering-- And there it is. There she stands, the serenely statuesque, though short angelborn, a paradox of beauty and captivity, light and shadow, malice and contentment in only that way that the ancient have. Her simple, aged Japanese garb clings to her form, a reminder of a time long past, the clothing possibly five hundred years old in design as Ritsuka judges from history, yet her presence commands the space like a celestial being descended to Earth. Even the soldiers around Ritsuka appear drawn to this slender young-looking woman, for her beauty is of mythology. Her ornate samurai-styled armor, glints dully in the low light, its ornate design and strangely crystalline construction tells tales of valor and honor, while the oni-masked kabuto helm rests on the table beside her, a silent sentinel that guards her secrets even when her features are exposed for all to see. Her features are exquisite, a perfect blend of ethereal beauty and youthful innocence, yet there is something ancient in that ancient young woman's gaze-- Her eyes are haunting things, those deep pools of amber, glowing like molten gold, seem to hold the weight of eons, inviting yet foreboding with the pent-up violence and pure wrath of the most ancient, who were trapped in obsidian tombs so that their malice could never get free. The spun obsidian of her braided hair catches the light, reflecting metallic hues of midnight as it flows down her back, framing her angelic visage. And from her back, the magnificent wings of the winged freed stretch out like a celestial cloak, shimmering with hints of starlight, and creating a stark contrast against the mundane surroundings, even though Ritsuka can see the burned and blackened feathers as they even now cling to those creamy white pinions. As Ritsuka watches, she sees that her soldiers have done well. Those wings have been pinned, the woman's formored form has been shackled, with weights preventing those wings from spreading fully. Around her, the security officers of Tsubaki No Tetsu's Iron Camellia move with a frenetic energy, their hushed voices blending into a low hum of anxious conversation as they regard the angelborn, dulling as Ritsuka steps in. They are an organized hive of activity, each one performing their duty with precision, yet the air is charged with uncertainty as they navigate this latest situation-- A freed could kill any of them, though she stands with plasidity, her gaze sweeping to Ritsuka, and that is when it becomes clear. Ritsuka sees tattoos on her face. The Tsubaki are unsure what to do because this woman is Yakuza-- And as all in the underworld know, women are disincentivised from that specific underworld grouping. Ritsuka's women cast wary glances at the angelborn, aware that beneath her serene facade lies a tempest of violence waiting to be unraveled. Despite her chains; Obsidian, Ritsuka's people know their craft and are well trained in matters of the supernatural, she remains stoic, an embodiment of tranquility amidst chaos. The sanctuary spell envelops her, a shimmering barrier that pulsates softly like a heartbeat, offering protection against the violence that looms in the air. It serves as a reminder that diplomacy is the only path forward, a delicate dance of words and intentions necessary to breach the walls surrounding her truth. So how will Ritsuka address this situation-- Venice attention, potential involvement from Vox Dei-- Or is this entirely Yakuza in origin? That is yet to be found, isn't it? Why did she want Hilaina's research?
Ah yes, diplomacy, it is always an option, and yet, there is ever some ways with which to trick and avoid sanctuary. Taking someone down deep undersea for one. Placing them down in deep caverns... Enrapturing... And it does not prevent some of the worst torture that the Chinese had used long ago. So Ritsuka's question is plain and simple. "Why are you here and stealing from us." Of course she also does reach forward, looking for the angelcollar to remove it, even if that means turning the freed angel partially nude. "That data is not meant to go to anyone else, it must be kept secret, Stradh's research is a problem. It may lead to the involvement from Venice. But if you prove resistant than we can make use of some of the water tortures that will drive you insane in a couple of hours, even with your regenerative abilities."
Of course, that means having a single drip of water perpetually drop onto the freed angel's forehead. "I really don't have the time for extensive diplomatic politics anymore, Emmanuel made sure to ruin such patience. So what is it going to be?"