Encounterlogs
Sams Odd Encounter Sr Lenny 250115
In the serene ambience of the lodge bar, with its distinct mix of regulars and tourists, Sam, an unassuming patron, finds himself intrigued by a conspicuously nervous man who arrives storming in. Dressed in a black trench coat, the man, later identified as Greg, an amateur paranormal investigator, hastily sets up his laptop and reveals his nervous quest for information on a regular named Victoria. Sam, playing the part of an interested local, engages in conversation with Greg, subtly aiming to glean the purpose behind his investigation without directly revealing his own affiliations or capabilities.
As their interaction deepens, Greg's initial resistance gives way under the skilled persuasion of Sam, who garners the trust of the uneasy investigator through a blend of authority and casual charm. Revealing his motives, Greg confesses his pursuit of paranormal proof concerning animal attacks in Haven, which he believes are linked to a woman transforming into a wolf—a woman he suspects to be Victoria. Sam, seizing the opportunity, adopts the guise of Special Agent Johnson of the HSD to disarm Greg's pursuit gently. Convinced by Sam’s authoritative veneer and promise of a formal investigation, Greg hands over a thumb drive containing his gathered evidence and exits, manipulated into leaving his paranormal inquiry in Sam’s hands. This closure allows Sam a quiet triumph, encapsulated by his return to the lodge's warmth, a thumb drive richer and the mystery of Haven preserved for now.
(Sam's odd encounter(SRLenny):SRLenny)
[Tue Jan 14 2025]
At the bar
This well lit area is home to a long, polished bar that stretches from
west to east along the centermost portion of the northern wall. A number of
refrigerators and shelves within have been filled with various drinks and
town memorabilia for display, but the large head of a black bear mounted
higher on the wall attracts more attention. Food for the bar is prepared on
a cast iron cooking surface behind the bar, but well within sight of
patrons. It's so large that several different meals can all be cooked at
the same time.
Starting to the side of the Lodge's entrance to the north, several booths
follow the old hardwood walls and wrap around the pool tables to the east.
Their sequence is only interrupted there by the exit to the courtyard in the
distance.
A small HD flatscreen television hangs in the southwestern corner, open to
sight for all of those at the bar.
It is morning, about -7F(-21C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(An amateur paranormal investigator has stumbled onto the truth of the supernatural world and has evidence. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Leaning on the counter, Sam sighs, tapping at his phone as the sound of wolf's howls fill the room. he shakes his head, and chuckles lightly. Maybe hunker in here for a little, at least for now. The jock sleepily sips a coffee, occasionally looking over at the TV screen, clearly still waking up for the day.
Mornings in the lodge are a place for regulars and tourist alike to come in and have a terrible coffee, get some of the news from the television from the bar and take some time to plan their day. There are better places to meet people, but there is none more neutral and calm than this place.
Thats why when a man come storming in with a laptop bag, heavy foot falls, a trench coat he becomes immediately obvious as indiscreet. The man hurries for a both to sit alone and when he's there he pulls out his laptop from his bag to hastily set it up.
Semi lazily, Sam keeps that arm on the counter, and he glances over the man, trying to figure out if he can glean any sort of allegiance.
Sam does not really move, though he does shift, subtly, to better look over the man's clothing, laptop and such. The magic of the lodge meant he would not be able to do the usual, more direct approach.
Subtly a green aura about a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat denotes him as new to town or just passing through. There's no symbol on him as a result. He seems very much concerned about something and after his laptop boots up he takes a thumbnail drive out of his inner coat pocket to hook it into the usb slot. He glances over the top of his laptop, the screen hidden from Sam to notice that the man has looked at him. He scowls at the attention. Showing immediately unfriendliness.
"If ya want privacy, choose a more quiet bar, my man." Sam remarks, simply. He shrugs a shoulder, and smiles. "I can reserve a private room for ya at the antler, or at the Trove, if ya prefer." He just smiles, a little like a used car salesman. But with a bleary, slightly tired yawn.
"I wont be here long." SRLenny says quickly. He turns his focus back to his laptop screen. He taps on his keyboard a bit too hard. There is frusteration in his movements and the sound that he makes with his tapping finger. "Where the hell is it.." he murmers under his breath without the subtly required to be unheard. It's a delayed reaction when the man connects what Sam said and something he recognizes, "The Trove? The barcade?"
"If ya want a place to be quiet in, I got a back-room." Sam just shrugs a shoulder, his eyes remaining fixed on the man. He tilts his head aside, seemingly contemplating something.
a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat closes his laptop and takes the thumbnail out to store it safely in his jacket pocket. He slips from the booth and approaches the bar to ask Sam bluntly, "Maybe you can answer some questions for me. You've got a regular..goes by the name of Victoria. Do you know her well?"
Leaning on the bar, Sam tilts his head aside. "Yeh, I know her, whiskey on the rocks, double, and neat if it's a bad day." He grins a little, giving the typical barman's memory. "Who's asking?"
He doesn't answer, he doesn't even acknowledge that Sam asked a question. The man becomes more interested, lifting his brow and he says. "She a friend of yours or just a regular? You know where she lives maybe?" these questions are tinged with nervousness but the man has a mission or purpose of some kind and is willing to venture into discomforting conversations to get whatever that is done. "I'm sure I can make it worth your while, if it pans out."
"She's a regular." Sam looks the man in the eyes from behind his shades, casaully leaning on the counter-top. "Who's asking, and wht are ya offering?" He just re-asks the question, blatantly ignoring the man's unwillingness to answer. The jock shifts subtly, putting a hand on a spot on his belt, then seems to shift somewhat.
When there is a distant howl a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat suddenly flinches and glances towards the door. He's already nervous and that sound just was a step to far for him. Given the topic at hand. "You know what? I just remembered I got to get to something. Sorry to bother you." the man turns to leave, if not stopped. Heading for the door and out of the safety of the lodge with some haste.
Tucking his hands in his pockets, Sam ambles after a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat, smiling somewhat. "Do ya have a card for me? I might know some people who can help." He tries to make eye-contact with the man, after removing those shades.
"Eh I got no time." a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat says to Sam with a grumble in his tone, equal parts annoyance and nervousness, he's trying to dismiss him by the time he's out the door and on the path of the lodge. He glances over his shoulder to see if Sam is still following. The man isn't going for a car, he angles to cross the street and go down the alley beside Rosies, ducking his head as if to avoid being obviously recognized in any way.
"Look, I think we should have a chat." Sam smiles, his eyes gleaming as his voice becomes less friendly, and more authoritative. "Tell me why you're asking." He smiles, and looks to the man. "I want to help ya, yadig? But you need to tell me the truth." He smiles, weaving his commands into casual conversation, perhaps by force of habit.
Evidently the man who is new to Haven enough to have a green aura is not mentally prepared to resist hypnotism. There is still hesitation, which is instinctual in the man but he stops his fleeing while out on the path of the lodge and turns to face Sam fully, he looks him over as if trying to determine that Sam can be trusted even though it doesn't really matter due to the compulsions. "I'm an investigator, names Greg. I've been looking at reports of animal attacks that were unusual around Haven that spiked around the full moon each month of the last year." he sort of just lets it all out. "I set up a blind, with my camera and the shit I saw..I saw wolves in the night but thats not the weird part. The weird part is one of em turned into a woman that I think is Victoria. I got pictures..but they didn't turn out right. I need to get more evidence."
"Ah, that makes sense." Sam smiles. "Special Agent Johnson, HSD." He nods to a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat, and smiles, giving his best federal agent kind of vibe. "I think it wise if You hand the investigation over to me" He smiles, a hand resting on the knife at his belt, back now that they have left the lodge. "I believe there were some pranks in this regard, tying into a horror movie coming out soon, local production." He chuckles a little, rubbing his face. "It's so dumb, really. I do apologize."
Its very hard for a man like a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat to give up his investigation, its in his blood. He's actually quite the professional about it even if he's not subtle enough about it. Still its hard to overcome hypnotism if you are unaware its even possible. He also secretly desires to get the hell out of this town as soon as possible after seeing the things hes seen so far.
Reaching into his jacket he produces a thumb drive and offers it out to Sam, "There's a dummy email I have access too written on the drive, this has everything I've found. Once you conclude your investigation you can email me everything you find right?"
With a smile. Sam nods to the man. "It's probably nothing, but thank you, Sir." He puts those shades on again, and he speaks, overtly, into an ear-piece, perhaps to support the bit. "Asset secured, thank you." In reality, he doesn't activate the ear-piece, not yet. Perhaps later.
Either way, the man is offered a shake of the hand, and a "If I am at liberty to do so, I shall. I am not always at liberty to elaborate, you understand. "
A hand shake is given and some parting words of thanks, then the grizzled man sets off with a sense that the tension of stress in his shoulders has been relieved and he carries himself a little lighter. Its no doubt he's taking the first bus out of town as in his mind. The investigation is out of his hands and Sam will follow up with him later but probably not. Or just give him some bullshit that concludes the whole situation.
Seemingly satisfied, Sam just ambles back inside, happy to be out of the cold. Perhaps the thumb drive will be used later.
As their interaction deepens, Greg's initial resistance gives way under the skilled persuasion of Sam, who garners the trust of the uneasy investigator through a blend of authority and casual charm. Revealing his motives, Greg confesses his pursuit of paranormal proof concerning animal attacks in Haven, which he believes are linked to a woman transforming into a wolf—a woman he suspects to be Victoria. Sam, seizing the opportunity, adopts the guise of Special Agent Johnson of the HSD to disarm Greg's pursuit gently. Convinced by Sam’s authoritative veneer and promise of a formal investigation, Greg hands over a thumb drive containing his gathered evidence and exits, manipulated into leaving his paranormal inquiry in Sam’s hands. This closure allows Sam a quiet triumph, encapsulated by his return to the lodge's warmth, a thumb drive richer and the mystery of Haven preserved for now.
(Sam's odd encounter(SRLenny):SRLenny)
[Tue Jan 14 2025]
At the bar
This well lit area is home to a long, polished bar that stretches from
west to east along the centermost portion of the northern wall. A number of
refrigerators and shelves within have been filled with various drinks and
town memorabilia for display, but the large head of a black bear mounted
higher on the wall attracts more attention. Food for the bar is prepared on
a cast iron cooking surface behind the bar, but well within sight of
patrons. It's so large that several different meals can all be cooked at
the same time.
Starting to the side of the Lodge's entrance to the north, several booths
follow the old hardwood walls and wrap around the pool tables to the east.
Their sequence is only interrupted there by the exit to the courtyard in the
distance.
A small HD flatscreen television hangs in the southwestern corner, open to
sight for all of those at the bar.
It is morning, about -7F(-21C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(An amateur paranormal investigator has stumbled onto the truth of the supernatural world and has evidence. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Leaning on the counter, Sam sighs, tapping at his phone as the sound of wolf's howls fill the room. he shakes his head, and chuckles lightly. Maybe hunker in here for a little, at least for now. The jock sleepily sips a coffee, occasionally looking over at the TV screen, clearly still waking up for the day.
Mornings in the lodge are a place for regulars and tourist alike to come in and have a terrible coffee, get some of the news from the television from the bar and take some time to plan their day. There are better places to meet people, but there is none more neutral and calm than this place.
Thats why when a man come storming in with a laptop bag, heavy foot falls, a trench coat he becomes immediately obvious as indiscreet. The man hurries for a both to sit alone and when he's there he pulls out his laptop from his bag to hastily set it up.
Semi lazily, Sam keeps that arm on the counter, and he glances over the man, trying to figure out if he can glean any sort of allegiance.
Sam does not really move, though he does shift, subtly, to better look over the man's clothing, laptop and such. The magic of the lodge meant he would not be able to do the usual, more direct approach.
Subtly a green aura about a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat denotes him as new to town or just passing through. There's no symbol on him as a result. He seems very much concerned about something and after his laptop boots up he takes a thumbnail drive out of his inner coat pocket to hook it into the usb slot. He glances over the top of his laptop, the screen hidden from Sam to notice that the man has looked at him. He scowls at the attention. Showing immediately unfriendliness.
"If ya want privacy, choose a more quiet bar, my man." Sam remarks, simply. He shrugs a shoulder, and smiles. "I can reserve a private room for ya at the antler, or at the Trove, if ya prefer." He just smiles, a little like a used car salesman. But with a bleary, slightly tired yawn.
"I wont be here long." SRLenny says quickly. He turns his focus back to his laptop screen. He taps on his keyboard a bit too hard. There is frusteration in his movements and the sound that he makes with his tapping finger. "Where the hell is it.." he murmers under his breath without the subtly required to be unheard. It's a delayed reaction when the man connects what Sam said and something he recognizes, "The Trove? The barcade?"
"If ya want a place to be quiet in, I got a back-room." Sam just shrugs a shoulder, his eyes remaining fixed on the man. He tilts his head aside, seemingly contemplating something.
a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat closes his laptop and takes the thumbnail out to store it safely in his jacket pocket. He slips from the booth and approaches the bar to ask Sam bluntly, "Maybe you can answer some questions for me. You've got a regular..goes by the name of Victoria. Do you know her well?"
Leaning on the bar, Sam tilts his head aside. "Yeh, I know her, whiskey on the rocks, double, and neat if it's a bad day." He grins a little, giving the typical barman's memory. "Who's asking?"
He doesn't answer, he doesn't even acknowledge that Sam asked a question. The man becomes more interested, lifting his brow and he says. "She a friend of yours or just a regular? You know where she lives maybe?" these questions are tinged with nervousness but the man has a mission or purpose of some kind and is willing to venture into discomforting conversations to get whatever that is done. "I'm sure I can make it worth your while, if it pans out."
"She's a regular." Sam looks the man in the eyes from behind his shades, casaully leaning on the counter-top. "Who's asking, and wht are ya offering?" He just re-asks the question, blatantly ignoring the man's unwillingness to answer. The jock shifts subtly, putting a hand on a spot on his belt, then seems to shift somewhat.
When there is a distant howl a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat suddenly flinches and glances towards the door. He's already nervous and that sound just was a step to far for him. Given the topic at hand. "You know what? I just remembered I got to get to something. Sorry to bother you." the man turns to leave, if not stopped. Heading for the door and out of the safety of the lodge with some haste.
Tucking his hands in his pockets, Sam ambles after a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat, smiling somewhat. "Do ya have a card for me? I might know some people who can help." He tries to make eye-contact with the man, after removing those shades.
"Eh I got no time." a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat says to Sam with a grumble in his tone, equal parts annoyance and nervousness, he's trying to dismiss him by the time he's out the door and on the path of the lodge. He glances over his shoulder to see if Sam is still following. The man isn't going for a car, he angles to cross the street and go down the alley beside Rosies, ducking his head as if to avoid being obviously recognized in any way.
"Look, I think we should have a chat." Sam smiles, his eyes gleaming as his voice becomes less friendly, and more authoritative. "Tell me why you're asking." He smiles, and looks to the man. "I want to help ya, yadig? But you need to tell me the truth." He smiles, weaving his commands into casual conversation, perhaps by force of habit.
Evidently the man who is new to Haven enough to have a green aura is not mentally prepared to resist hypnotism. There is still hesitation, which is instinctual in the man but he stops his fleeing while out on the path of the lodge and turns to face Sam fully, he looks him over as if trying to determine that Sam can be trusted even though it doesn't really matter due to the compulsions. "I'm an investigator, names Greg. I've been looking at reports of animal attacks that were unusual around Haven that spiked around the full moon each month of the last year." he sort of just lets it all out. "I set up a blind, with my camera and the shit I saw..I saw wolves in the night but thats not the weird part. The weird part is one of em turned into a woman that I think is Victoria. I got pictures..but they didn't turn out right. I need to get more evidence."
"Ah, that makes sense." Sam smiles. "Special Agent Johnson, HSD." He nods to a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat, and smiles, giving his best federal agent kind of vibe. "I think it wise if You hand the investigation over to me" He smiles, a hand resting on the knife at his belt, back now that they have left the lodge. "I believe there were some pranks in this regard, tying into a horror movie coming out soon, local production." He chuckles a little, rubbing his face. "It's so dumb, really. I do apologize."
Its very hard for a man like a middle-aged, grizzled man in a black trench coat to give up his investigation, its in his blood. He's actually quite the professional about it even if he's not subtle enough about it. Still its hard to overcome hypnotism if you are unaware its even possible. He also secretly desires to get the hell out of this town as soon as possible after seeing the things hes seen so far.
Reaching into his jacket he produces a thumb drive and offers it out to Sam, "There's a dummy email I have access too written on the drive, this has everything I've found. Once you conclude your investigation you can email me everything you find right?"
With a smile. Sam nods to the man. "It's probably nothing, but thank you, Sir." He puts those shades on again, and he speaks, overtly, into an ear-piece, perhaps to support the bit. "Asset secured, thank you." In reality, he doesn't activate the ear-piece, not yet. Perhaps later.
Either way, the man is offered a shake of the hand, and a "If I am at liberty to do so, I shall. I am not always at liberty to elaborate, you understand. "
A hand shake is given and some parting words of thanks, then the grizzled man sets off with a sense that the tension of stress in his shoulders has been relieved and he carries himself a little lighter. Its no doubt he's taking the first bus out of town as in his mind. The investigation is out of his hands and Sam will follow up with him later but probably not. Or just give him some bullshit that concludes the whole situation.
Seemingly satisfied, Sam just ambles back inside, happy to be out of the cold. Perhaps the thumb drive will be used later.