Encounterlogs
Ryans Odd Encounter Sr Asa
Ryan, working out in his "JUICY" booty shorts, is interrupted by a flood of urgent voicemails. His morning routine of exercise and TV is halted by the news of a missing man, John Tucker, whose motorcycle was found leaning against a tree west of town. Ryan, after a hasty preparation that included arming himself and attempting to rally the local order to no response, embarks on a solo rescue mission. With Mariah Carey fueling his drive, he learns Tucker has had run-ins with the locals and might be dealing with something 'super dangerous' on his own.
After a pizza-fueled drive, Ryan encounters a military-type comrade named Michael with a sniper rifle in the snowy woods. There, they discover signs of violence—a scrap of fabric and a pool of blood—indicating a grim scene ahead. Suddenly, they are ambushed by a massive wolf. In a chaotic struggle, Ryan distracts the creature with his flashy shorts and climbs a tree, while Michael unloads silver bullets. A poisoned knife jab and bullets subdue the beast, revealing the tragic fate of Tucker, now confirmed as eaten by the wolf. Reluctantly, Michael credits Ryan for his part in the capture, instructing him to secure the wolf and deal with the aftermath. Despite a rough start and Michael's blunt advice to "grow up," Ryan cheerfully blasts his Christmas music, driving back with the subdued wolf in tow.
(Ryan's odd encounter(SRAsa):SRAsa)
[Tue Dec 12 2023]
In A Large Living Room
Thick, plush blue rugs break up the expanse of grey oak planks, softening the look of the room. On the west wall, painted a pale, neutral grey like all others in the apartment, is a fireplace, above which hangs a large screen television. Facing the fireplace and television is a set of furniture consisting of one large L-shaped sofa and a matching love seat with coffee table standing sentry in the middle of the seating arrangement. The southern wall is host to a large bay window, complete with a window seat with storage below, and archways lead both north and east.
It is morning, about 26F(-3C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
In his living room, Ryan is wearing nothing but his 'JUICY' booty shorts, working out as he watches some TV. "1...2...3...4.." he states as he does pushups, watching what seems to be a Christmas Lifetime Movie. The lady from the Big City has found our life too unmanagable and now she's going back to her country home to fall in love with a lumberjack....typical." Looking up from his pushups, Ryan says, "You go girl! That city guy is no good for you!""
Ah, nothing like a bit of classic christmas bad end relationship to fun future mister right to get things going in the best way possible in the morning. And man has the show got all the right vibes. It's interrupted however by a buzzing of your phone, first just a few texts, and then it's ringing off the hook. one voicemail turns into two, and then it's a third.
It's enough to break up a morning of exercise and general hot guy contentedness.
"Man, what's happening up in here?" Ryan says as he switches to situps and reaches for his phone to check the voice messages, "First my bathroom gets destroyed by th Ghost of Christmas Shits (SRKylia) and now someone's blowing up my phone. It's too early for this shit, my dudes." he taps on his phone as he does situps to put it on speaker and listen to the voicemail.
"You fucking idiot Ryan," The phone practically screeches at you with one of the most irritated sounds imaginable. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not read m--nevermind. Look we've gotten a contact from Order higher ups, nothing like the worst, but there's a man he had left town last night, looked drunk as shit, but they found his motorcycle just leaning against a tree." It's the usual affair, idiot guy thinks he's gonna just go for a stroll, and no one's going to tell him otherwise. "It's west of town."
"Aah shit! Let me grab my gear!" Ryan calls into the phone, scrambling as he goes to the closet for his gun and nunchucks and armored vest. He reaches for the rifle as he puts out a call to the local order.
Touching his earpiece, Ryan says, "Hey Order, got a live one this morning! Lost dude on a motorbike, west of town, bring gear!"
Getting no reply back, Ryan says, "Well, looks like this is a solo mission, Mister Harris." he goes to look in the mirror and remembers that it is completely shattered, but he salutes what would be the image of himself anyway. "Let's do this!"
when the calls go out, it's a long time before any scouts respond. First a picture comes in. It's a brownhaired man, he's got a scar on his face, wrinkles and he looks like he's seen better days. He's got the red cheeks of a man who drinks, and the gut to prove the assertion. Also, however, there's butchered up hair that seems to be falling out in places, and the clothes seem to be torn in spots. He's an alcoholic, just barely functional.
Then there's the name and age: John Tucker, age 39... history of violence, theft, mental illness. He used to live at the Moore's trailers for a while, then he lost his job, and he moved from there to a storage unit, then to a barstool at the dive, often.
Looking down at his phone, Ryan frowns, "Just a guy down on his luck. Man, we'd do really good to help this guy get back on his feet." he puts on some pants, shoes, and a jacket as he heads out the door, putting his gear into the back of a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural and then getting in the driver's seat. He drives out west of town to Devilwood, turning on the radio as he hears 'All I Want for Christmas is You' on the radio, "Oh! Mariah Carey, I love this song!" he says as he cranks it as loud as it can go and sings his heart out, "...Make my wish come trueee....All I want for Christmas is Youuuuu!..."
It's one of those songs that is the bane to everyone in existance, and you're giving it your all, out through the city streets, and moving through traffic, until there's a another phone call, it rings and rings until you pick up. It's the first contact. "Are you on y--What the fuck. Turn that shit off..."
It seems that there's plenty of people who are about to shit on the holidays, but at least they're giving you information.
He briefs you on some developments, mentioning, that someone had spotted Mister Tucker in an argument with a usual who comes in on the weekends, some distant cousins of the Moores in fact. Not necessarily a part of the pack though.
"Oh shit, my bad, bro." Ryan says as he turns the music down, "Got it, Tucker, yup. Could be a furry, got it. So I'm looking at like...super danger here with no backup? This is way not good, my dude." Ryan mentions as he glances to the back of the van and looks at what else he has. Some blankets, and emergency medical kit, his weapons and armor...a half eaten pizza from yesterday, jumper cables... he shakes his head, "Maybe those jumper cables would work, or if I throw the pizza out there...I dunno." he keeps driving until he gets far enough west of town, and then he keeps his eyes peeled for the bike.
"Thank The fuck god you're done with that bullshit," The voice grumbles and complains all the way until that music in the background dies off to Wam's Last christmas which ogf course increases the man's mood into something more pleasant, and clearly shows that his taste in music is still very much questionable.
When you get to the bike, there's a man standing with a sniper rifle, a bipod, and way too much gear to be anything but military. He waits for you to get out of the car, and then he just juts his finger off to the west off the road. He doesn't say hi, he's not even friendly, the best you're offered? a frown as he plods through the snow in heavy boots, flashlight illuminating a trail of blood.
Getting his gear from the back, Ryan straps on the nunchucks and the rifle as he reaches for the half eaten pizza box. "Trust me, this is probably relevant. If the dude's out here he's probably hungry, and if it's like...a werewolf, maybe the pizza will distract it?" he shrugs as he plods through the snow, taking out one of the pizza slices and taking a bite out of it, "You want some pizza, my dude? It's only from yesterday."
"I got paired with a fucking Retard," the big man grumbles, as he looks at you side-eye. "Look, I don't care about whether he's gonna need food or not. Do you think we're actually gonna find the guy alive out here? It's fucking freezing."
He freezes though, hearing a low growl from off to the right. "Three o'clock... maybe a hundred yards in those trees." he mutters.
Then he points and you can see a scrap of fabric, and a puddle of blood.
Finishing off his pizza slice, Ryan tosses the pizza box down and hides behind a tree, crouching down as he raises the rifle to look down the scope and see if he can see anything. "It's RyTard, my dude. They totally called me that in College." He spots the scrap and blood and mentions, "You think the thing at the bar drug him out here? Or he just drove out here drunk and some animal got him?"
"that's a n accurate description. we'll keep it for later," The man says, slipping behind a tree.@line
there's not much to see at first, just a lot of blood, and a scent that'd be much worse if it wasn't cold out. Then it's fast, a wolf massive runs straight for you, fast enoughy for a jump scare to a person not ready to be rushed by over 300 pounds of feral beast. Your companion tries to pop off a shot, but even his goes wide as he has to dart over to another tree, only to swear. "Fuck, he's got guts all over here. You got a fucking naturalizer?"
Ryan also takes a shot at the beast with his rifle, but is also scared by the sudden appearance, falling over from his crouch to roll into the snow and push himself back up, covered in the powder all over as his shaggy blonde hair is dusted with particles, "Naturalizer?!" he asks "I thought we were rescuing a normal dude! I brought a pizza!"
"We were rescuing a normal dude, you idiot," the other growls, this whole affair clearly turning into a very ridiculous version of a buddy cop movie gone bad. "What the fuck do you think the guts are from? It's not that fucking thing," he snarls, starting to unload a burst of silver bullets. He makes a quick change and throws a knife to you then. "Try and fucking poison it with that. You poison yourself? and i'm leaving you for dead."
Meanwhile the wolf skitters behind a tree, letting out a yelp as one bullet bites into its thick hide, weakening it a little.
"I got it, bro!" Ryan calls out as he breaks cover from the tree with the knife in one hand and his nunchucks in the other, "Yo! Wolf! What's up my dude?" pulls down the back of his pants to show a pair of bright pink booty shorts with 'JUICY' emblazoned on the ass, "Take a bite out of my JUICY ass!"
Aiming for distraction, Ryan then runs as fast as he can, trying to give the man a good shot as Ryan starts to climb up in a tree to get some distance from the thing and get a good platform to stab it from.
Your companion would probably be beating the shit out of you himself, if he wasn't busy trying to spray this absolute beast down with bullets adn keeping from getting chased down himself.
Still, the distraction works, and that large creature is running at another full dash, catching up just in time to leap up and snap its juaws just missing your foot, before it tries to scramble up the tree.
"Alright, Stab it in the fucking eye or something. or get eaten or something. I don't give a shit."
"Down doggy! Down!" Ryan says as he jabs at the wolf with his knife, one hand gripping for dear life around the tree as he stabs wildly, trying to hit it with any kind of force to let the poison do it's work, "I'm doing my best, dude! This is my first one!"
there's a run up and then a scratching roughly at the trunk, claws hooking into the cuff of your pants yanking you down just as you drive that poisoned blade into its thickly furred neck, which makes it yowl and fall back.
Then there's a loud, pop pop pop, and blood sprays up at you in a sickly sweet smelling mist before the wolf goes still. "Well, fuck... The man flicks the safety on his rifle, slings it back over the shoulder and kicks the wolfa few times. "Nice and paralyzed. Go ahead and bind the fucker up and then you can carrty him back. We'lll process this one and figure out what to do with him, since... he ate the guy." He holds up a wallet with a picture of poor John Tucker, who's bones and bits of skin is dragged all about the woods around you. "
"I guess I'm gonna need some new pants." Ryan says as he holds out his fist to bump with the guy. "Good job, bro. You're like totes prepared for this stuff." Ryan gets out some zip ties and ties the thing up to drag it back to his van, "I'll drop this off and then we're good to go, right? I can find this Tucker dude's family and let figure it out, right? Maybe help them work through the uh...grief stuff."
"Yeah, you can do all that shit," The man says, looking around before he finally, introduces "Michael pratchet. Call me later and i'll explain what we can do about..." he gestures at the twitgching wolf.
"Cool, cool, my dude. Good to meet you Michael. I'm Ryan Harris, as you probably know." he wiggles his fist at Michael, trying to get the dude to fist bump him, before shrugging and dropping it. "I'll let Miss Harry know we got it all figured out." Ryan says.
looks at the fist, then he shakes his head. Then he turns and simply just starts walking down the road, mentioning over his shoulder, "By the way, grow the fuck up. Gonna get folks ckilled," Michael grunts at you, then he moves on along .
Loading the wolf in his van, Ryan drives off and cranks some more Mariah Carey christmas musis, "All I want for Christmas is Youuuu!!!!"
After a pizza-fueled drive, Ryan encounters a military-type comrade named Michael with a sniper rifle in the snowy woods. There, they discover signs of violence—a scrap of fabric and a pool of blood—indicating a grim scene ahead. Suddenly, they are ambushed by a massive wolf. In a chaotic struggle, Ryan distracts the creature with his flashy shorts and climbs a tree, while Michael unloads silver bullets. A poisoned knife jab and bullets subdue the beast, revealing the tragic fate of Tucker, now confirmed as eaten by the wolf. Reluctantly, Michael credits Ryan for his part in the capture, instructing him to secure the wolf and deal with the aftermath. Despite a rough start and Michael's blunt advice to "grow up," Ryan cheerfully blasts his Christmas music, driving back with the subdued wolf in tow.
(Ryan's odd encounter(SRAsa):SRAsa)
[Tue Dec 12 2023]
In A Large Living Room
Thick, plush blue rugs break up the expanse of grey oak planks, softening the look of the room. On the west wall, painted a pale, neutral grey like all others in the apartment, is a fireplace, above which hangs a large screen television. Facing the fireplace and television is a set of furniture consisting of one large L-shaped sofa and a matching love seat with coffee table standing sentry in the middle of the seating arrangement. The southern wall is host to a large bay window, complete with a window seat with storage below, and archways lead both north and east.
It is morning, about 26F(-3C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target's been contacted to help find a civilian who's become lost in the woods.
)
In his living room, Ryan is wearing nothing but his 'JUICY' booty shorts, working out as he watches some TV. "1...2...3...4.." he states as he does pushups, watching what seems to be a Christmas Lifetime Movie. The lady from the Big City has found our life too unmanagable and now she's going back to her country home to fall in love with a lumberjack....typical." Looking up from his pushups, Ryan says, "You go girl! That city guy is no good for you!""
Ah, nothing like a bit of classic christmas bad end relationship to fun future mister right to get things going in the best way possible in the morning. And man has the show got all the right vibes. It's interrupted however by a buzzing of your phone, first just a few texts, and then it's ringing off the hook. one voicemail turns into two, and then it's a third.
It's enough to break up a morning of exercise and general hot guy contentedness.
"Man, what's happening up in here?" Ryan says as he switches to situps and reaches for his phone to check the voice messages, "First my bathroom gets destroyed by th Ghost of Christmas Shits (SRKylia) and now someone's blowing up my phone. It's too early for this shit, my dudes." he taps on his phone as he does situps to put it on speaker and listen to the voicemail.
"You fucking idiot Ryan," The phone practically screeches at you with one of the most irritated sounds imaginable. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not read m--nevermind. Look we've gotten a contact from Order higher ups, nothing like the worst, but there's a man he had left town last night, looked drunk as shit, but they found his motorcycle just leaning against a tree." It's the usual affair, idiot guy thinks he's gonna just go for a stroll, and no one's going to tell him otherwise. "It's west of town."
"Aah shit! Let me grab my gear!" Ryan calls into the phone, scrambling as he goes to the closet for his gun and nunchucks and armored vest. He reaches for the rifle as he puts out a call to the local order.
Touching his earpiece, Ryan says, "Hey Order, got a live one this morning! Lost dude on a motorbike, west of town, bring gear!"
Getting no reply back, Ryan says, "Well, looks like this is a solo mission, Mister Harris." he goes to look in the mirror and remembers that it is completely shattered, but he salutes what would be the image of himself anyway. "Let's do this!"
when the calls go out, it's a long time before any scouts respond. First a picture comes in. It's a brownhaired man, he's got a scar on his face, wrinkles and he looks like he's seen better days. He's got the red cheeks of a man who drinks, and the gut to prove the assertion. Also, however, there's butchered up hair that seems to be falling out in places, and the clothes seem to be torn in spots. He's an alcoholic, just barely functional.
Then there's the name and age: John Tucker, age 39... history of violence, theft, mental illness. He used to live at the Moore's trailers for a while, then he lost his job, and he moved from there to a storage unit, then to a barstool at the dive, often.
Looking down at his phone, Ryan frowns, "Just a guy down on his luck. Man, we'd do really good to help this guy get back on his feet." he puts on some pants, shoes, and a jacket as he heads out the door, putting his gear into the back of a 1977 Dodge Van with a beach mural and then getting in the driver's seat. He drives out west of town to Devilwood, turning on the radio as he hears 'All I Want for Christmas is You' on the radio, "Oh! Mariah Carey, I love this song!" he says as he cranks it as loud as it can go and sings his heart out, "...Make my wish come trueee....All I want for Christmas is Youuuuu!..."
It's one of those songs that is the bane to everyone in existance, and you're giving it your all, out through the city streets, and moving through traffic, until there's a another phone call, it rings and rings until you pick up. It's the first contact. "Are you on y--What the fuck. Turn that shit off..."
It seems that there's plenty of people who are about to shit on the holidays, but at least they're giving you information.
He briefs you on some developments, mentioning, that someone had spotted Mister Tucker in an argument with a usual who comes in on the weekends, some distant cousins of the Moores in fact. Not necessarily a part of the pack though.
"Oh shit, my bad, bro." Ryan says as he turns the music down, "Got it, Tucker, yup. Could be a furry, got it. So I'm looking at like...super danger here with no backup? This is way not good, my dude." Ryan mentions as he glances to the back of the van and looks at what else he has. Some blankets, and emergency medical kit, his weapons and armor...a half eaten pizza from yesterday, jumper cables... he shakes his head, "Maybe those jumper cables would work, or if I throw the pizza out there...I dunno." he keeps driving until he gets far enough west of town, and then he keeps his eyes peeled for the bike.
"Thank The fuck god you're done with that bullshit," The voice grumbles and complains all the way until that music in the background dies off to Wam's Last christmas which ogf course increases the man's mood into something more pleasant, and clearly shows that his taste in music is still very much questionable.
When you get to the bike, there's a man standing with a sniper rifle, a bipod, and way too much gear to be anything but military. He waits for you to get out of the car, and then he just juts his finger off to the west off the road. He doesn't say hi, he's not even friendly, the best you're offered? a frown as he plods through the snow in heavy boots, flashlight illuminating a trail of blood.
Getting his gear from the back, Ryan straps on the nunchucks and the rifle as he reaches for the half eaten pizza box. "Trust me, this is probably relevant. If the dude's out here he's probably hungry, and if it's like...a werewolf, maybe the pizza will distract it?" he shrugs as he plods through the snow, taking out one of the pizza slices and taking a bite out of it, "You want some pizza, my dude? It's only from yesterday."
"I got paired with a fucking Retard," the big man grumbles, as he looks at you side-eye. "Look, I don't care about whether he's gonna need food or not. Do you think we're actually gonna find the guy alive out here? It's fucking freezing."
He freezes though, hearing a low growl from off to the right. "Three o'clock... maybe a hundred yards in those trees." he mutters.
Then he points and you can see a scrap of fabric, and a puddle of blood.
Finishing off his pizza slice, Ryan tosses the pizza box down and hides behind a tree, crouching down as he raises the rifle to look down the scope and see if he can see anything. "It's RyTard, my dude. They totally called me that in College." He spots the scrap and blood and mentions, "You think the thing at the bar drug him out here? Or he just drove out here drunk and some animal got him?"
"that's a n accurate description. we'll keep it for later," The man says, slipping behind a tree.@line
there's not much to see at first, just a lot of blood, and a scent that'd be much worse if it wasn't cold out. Then it's fast, a wolf massive runs straight for you, fast enoughy for a jump scare to a person not ready to be rushed by over 300 pounds of feral beast. Your companion tries to pop off a shot, but even his goes wide as he has to dart over to another tree, only to swear. "Fuck, he's got guts all over here. You got a fucking naturalizer?"
Ryan also takes a shot at the beast with his rifle, but is also scared by the sudden appearance, falling over from his crouch to roll into the snow and push himself back up, covered in the powder all over as his shaggy blonde hair is dusted with particles, "Naturalizer?!" he asks "I thought we were rescuing a normal dude! I brought a pizza!"
"We were rescuing a normal dude, you idiot," the other growls, this whole affair clearly turning into a very ridiculous version of a buddy cop movie gone bad. "What the fuck do you think the guts are from? It's not that fucking thing," he snarls, starting to unload a burst of silver bullets. He makes a quick change and throws a knife to you then. "Try and fucking poison it with that. You poison yourself? and i'm leaving you for dead."
Meanwhile the wolf skitters behind a tree, letting out a yelp as one bullet bites into its thick hide, weakening it a little.
"I got it, bro!" Ryan calls out as he breaks cover from the tree with the knife in one hand and his nunchucks in the other, "Yo! Wolf! What's up my dude?" pulls down the back of his pants to show a pair of bright pink booty shorts with 'JUICY' emblazoned on the ass, "Take a bite out of my JUICY ass!"
Aiming for distraction, Ryan then runs as fast as he can, trying to give the man a good shot as Ryan starts to climb up in a tree to get some distance from the thing and get a good platform to stab it from.
Your companion would probably be beating the shit out of you himself, if he wasn't busy trying to spray this absolute beast down with bullets adn keeping from getting chased down himself.
Still, the distraction works, and that large creature is running at another full dash, catching up just in time to leap up and snap its juaws just missing your foot, before it tries to scramble up the tree.
"Alright, Stab it in the fucking eye or something. or get eaten or something. I don't give a shit."
"Down doggy! Down!" Ryan says as he jabs at the wolf with his knife, one hand gripping for dear life around the tree as he stabs wildly, trying to hit it with any kind of force to let the poison do it's work, "I'm doing my best, dude! This is my first one!"
there's a run up and then a scratching roughly at the trunk, claws hooking into the cuff of your pants yanking you down just as you drive that poisoned blade into its thickly furred neck, which makes it yowl and fall back.
Then there's a loud, pop pop pop, and blood sprays up at you in a sickly sweet smelling mist before the wolf goes still. "Well, fuck... The man flicks the safety on his rifle, slings it back over the shoulder and kicks the wolfa few times. "Nice and paralyzed. Go ahead and bind the fucker up and then you can carrty him back. We'lll process this one and figure out what to do with him, since... he ate the guy." He holds up a wallet with a picture of poor John Tucker, who's bones and bits of skin is dragged all about the woods around you. "
"I guess I'm gonna need some new pants." Ryan says as he holds out his fist to bump with the guy. "Good job, bro. You're like totes prepared for this stuff." Ryan gets out some zip ties and ties the thing up to drag it back to his van, "I'll drop this off and then we're good to go, right? I can find this Tucker dude's family and let figure it out, right? Maybe help them work through the uh...grief stuff."
"Yeah, you can do all that shit," The man says, looking around before he finally, introduces "Michael pratchet. Call me later and i'll explain what we can do about..." he gestures at the twitgching wolf.
"Cool, cool, my dude. Good to meet you Michael. I'm Ryan Harris, as you probably know." he wiggles his fist at Michael, trying to get the dude to fist bump him, before shrugging and dropping it. "I'll let Miss Harry know we got it all figured out." Ryan says.
looks at the fist, then he shakes his head. Then he turns and simply just starts walking down the road, mentioning over his shoulder, "By the way, grow the fuck up. Gonna get folks ckilled," Michael grunts at you, then he moves on along .
Loading the wolf in his van, Ryan drives off and cranks some more Mariah Carey christmas musis, "All I want for Christmas is Youuuu!!!!"