Encounterlogs
Selinas Odd Encounter Sr Meridith 240423
Selina, known affectionately in this tale as the Elven Princess despite her human lineage and absence of literal elven royalty attributes, found herself in the midst of an unsuspecting adventure. One ordinary evening at the Lodge, she received an invitation to a town gathering, a seemingly innocent celebration in the woods. Viewed as a much-needed diversion from her emotional tumult—hinted to be the aftermath of a personal loss—Selina decided to venture to this gathering solo. Upon her arrival, a mix of revelry and odd assortments of attendees greeted her, but an undercurrent of something sinister swiftly caught her attention. The revelation of the Black Flame symbol among the crowd marked the turning point of the night, as she realized the festivity was but a front for a dark ritual intended to summon an eldritch horror.
Selina, blending into the uneasy mirth while plotting her intervention, noticed peculiar behaviors led by Black Flame adherents, unmistakably performing a summoning ritual by the bonfire. Acting deftly, she attempted to disrupt the ritual by igniting a tablecloth as a distraction, using her elemental magic while avoiding revealing her presence. However, when her subtlety proved insufficient to derail the cultists' sinister efforts, she escalated her tactics by launching a fiery assault directly upon the perpetrators. This bold move incited chaos amidst the once-jovial assembly, veering the event into a panicked tumult. Simultaneously, the narrative skillfully intertwines the story of Meridith, who embarks on an atmospheric and solitary walk that soon morphs into a confrontation with a predatory entity, hinting at a larger, impending threat that ties back to the essence of shared obfuscation and inevitable confrontation with the darkness lurking just beyond the realm of the everyday.
In the end, Selina's story sees her actively combating the dark forces at play, showcasing her blend of strategic thinking and magical prowess against a backdrop of peculiar revelry turned sour. Meanwhile, Meridith's narrative arc concludes on a note of bravery mingled with recklessness, as she decides to confront the beast head-on despite the odds, driven by a fusion of duty and a desperation to correct the wrongs that stand before her. Both stories, distinct yet intertwined by the thematic threads of mystery, confrontation, and the personal journeys of their protagonists, leave an impression of unresolved conflicts set against the enigmatic and often perilous tapestry of their world.
(Selina's odd encounter(SRMeridith):SRMeridith)
[Mon Apr 22 2024]
At the pool tables
This part of the structure is occupied mostly by a series of pool tables
and is kept well lit by lights hanging from the rafters above. An L-shaped
row of booths continue from the east and round out the southwestern corner
of the log building before heading north along the eastern wall. A path
between the pool tables and booths allow patrons to pass from the courtyard
to the east to the oval shaped bar to the west.
It is afternoon, about 53F(11C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target has been invited to a seemingly innocent town gathering. As the night progresses, they realize that the gathering is a front for a Black Flame ritual designed to summon an eldritch horror. Your target must find a way to stop the ritual or mitigate its effects before the horror is fully summoned. They may need to confront the cultists directly, find a way to disrupt the ritual, or convince others at the gathering to help them. They may also have to deal with the fallout from the ritual, such as the arrival of a lesser eldritch horror or the cultists' retaliation for their interference.)
Selina has found herself with a curious invite to a town gathering. Taking place out in the woods, a bonfire, with drinks and booze and a celebration most merry. Perhaps she has her own reasons for attending, recruitment, information gathering or otherwise. What winds up intriuging her about the festivities? What ends up getting her to go? And does she bring anyone?
Selina was just sitting around in the Lodge considering ordering a large volume of liquor when an invitation lands on her table. One of those deals where 'who' is less important as the target, as much as a net to get as many people as possible sort of deals. She waits a few minutes before looking at the invitation. There does seem to be some potential in it. She sighs, perhaps needing to take her mind off of something. She goes over the list of potential people she can take with her, but none really fit the bill. She checks her phone just in case, but then shakes her head.
There is chatter in the lodge. Selina is enjoying another quiet evening in the Lodge, and the tantilizing drink special. She might have become a bit of a known figure, friendly with the staff. The party has been advertised around town for quite some time now, but now the direct invitation lands. She appears to have something else on her mind entirely.
Ah, love. Emotions. Attachment. Selina knows loss, this won't be the first or most dire, but perhaps there's something reassuring about the pain she feels. She puts up such an icy facade, perhaps even unknown to her. But... she still cares. Still feels. Sometimes it is better to step off the path when it becomes clear two people don't share the same destination.
Still, perhaps this kind of revery, or work, is just what the Elven Princess needs?
Selina is not really an elven princess in this world. Her ears are quite round, though most of the rest of her features remain the same. Minus a few small things here and there. Like her scales. Still, the invitation is in her hand, and perhaps she finds herself in need of a distraction. She picks up the invitation and moves out to her scooter to go find the party. She is not new to partying and revelry. Though she has not had occasion to cut loose in this realm. Hopefully her busted scooter can make the trip. And she is not opposed to walking a bit if it does not quite make it.
There really not anything like Selina in this world, ears or otherwise. Still, as she herself declares, a distraction is most welcome. The party is north of town, in the woods, but not so deep one would expect trouble. Still, the cloying mists can deepen almost anywhere, so perhaps Selina could do some good deeds while she's out there.
Nothing said anything on the invite about bra's, but, hey, better to have a bra and not need it, then to need a bra and not have it? There's a kind of wisdom there.
The town seems in good spirits, at least for Haven, as she zips around on her busted scooter, an unworthy steed? Still, there are signs, along the roads which turn to dirt paths, and she sees gathering fellow revelers on the way there, on foot, a car or bike here or there along the way parked out. Seems like a good turn out.
Selina is dressed more like a secretary than a party goer, but she considers it good enough. Her cardigan helps to fight against the chill on the way to the party location. When she arrives, she finds a few trees to park the scooter behind. To keep it from getting more smashed by cars that won't even notice they hit it. Once that is done, she heads off toward the party to mingle, find something to do, maybe get a drink. Or maybe not that last one. She has been to one too many poisoning parties to let her guard down that far. Still, she goes in without arms or armor. Mostly because she would stand out like crazy in her white and silver garb.
The party is only just beginning. A clearing in the woods, decent size, and secure enough to probably prevent a forest fire. Illegal? Definitely, but at least it isn't doomed. Selina finds herself fitting in well enough, people give her warm smiles, a lot of different towns folk are gathered from various walks of life.
It's a rather strange assortment of people, business people, trailer park folk, all intermingling. No sign of poisoning, but there's an off feeling to it.
She notices a symbol on more than one attendee, of the Black Flame?
Selina narrows her gaze considerably when she sees the flash of that symbol. The obsidian flame-wreathed globe stands out against other symbols. She has her phone tucked away, so no symbol adorns her in that fashion. She did not think it necessary to broadcast who she was to everyone. Still, if the Black Flames are here, there may be trouble. Her tactical instincts kick in, checking for exit paths, ways to get back to her scooter, which directions she can go without running into monsters in the mist. She does this scanning without moving her head, just letting her eyes collect the visual information for her. She slowly continues to walk through the party, turning a little to cover her bases. "Worse than a poisoning party," she mutters under her breath to herself.
Hospitality is an important thing, especially in the supernatural world. Venice has long exhaustive texts on the importance of Hospitality. When living beings represent the destructive capability exceeding that of the mundane worlds most destructive arsenal, what choice do you have but to try to bind people with social niceties? Backed up with threats of death of course.
Still, judgements must be made. Selina has her choice of exits, the woods open on every side, the crowd is thick but thick enough to use to blend without impending her delicate agile footsteps. The Black Flame. A bonfire. An odd assortment of towns people all around her.
Worse than a poisoning party by far.
Selina remains blended into the crowd but vigilant against whatever plans the Black Flame might be enacting. She does not know what their plan is well enough to disrupt it yet. Although, that table with refreshing beverages and a table cloth that looks flammable could be a good place to start. She tries to make sure to keep track of the Black Flame agent and the flammable table cloth for future references as she continues, bobbing and weaving with the crowd and not really in a hurry to get anywhere at the moment.
It's overwhelming, the amount of angles, and vantages. People mill, mindless and content. There's an excited buzz in the air, joyous and easy going. But there's something else too, nefarious intent, people mixed into the crowd likely seeking more. But she doesn't -see- anything nefarious. Perhaps it's paranoia? Can she really just enjoy herself for an evening?
What better distraction is there for Selina than some more work? Heroics? Adventure? Is it possible she's just looking for trouble where there is none?
The buzz in the crowd reaches a crescendo as flames ignite, the central bonfire, a towering structure of dried wood goes up in a gout of flame. Heat radiates off it, licking at Selina's skin even at a distance. The crowd cheers and drinks are had.
Selina only spotted one person with a Black Flame symbol, after all. So perhaps they are a guest that was invited. She would not wish to break up someone's party just for that, even if it is strange. The flame getting lit probably brings more warmth than she would really like to have, but she cannot diminish it without drawing attention. So she simply slips off her cardigan and folds it over har arms instead. Her eyes continue to travel around, looking for the sign of trouble she suspects is coming soon.
It's a party, and an enjoyable one, at least judging by the reactions of the towns people involved. Selina sees joy. A circle of people dancing near the fire to music blaring off of a phone and a set of speaks. No official DJ, but people talk about a playlist others can contribute to. It's all probably noise to Selina, but everyone else seems to be enjoying it. She may be too guarded to snag a drink, wisely, but it's all there. Someone has a barbecue going, a huge grill rolled up for the ocassion, and the smell of meat fills the air, though a ring of corn roasts merrily as well.
The flame though, the bonfire, and heat. It's more than just the heat of a flame. There's something else, something that roils within the center of that impossible heat. Had Selina not birthed Shemra into this world, she might not have known what it is. But she does. Something is stirring in the flame, being drawn forth. And this party is its welcome.
"No, no, no no," Selina says to herself before glancing over toward the table with the tablecloth she had spotted earlier. She wiggles her foot to get her anklet loose then ducks behind a tree to be hidden and get line of sight with the table cloth. "Raui-o naur," she mutters to create a weak line of fire toward the table cloth to light it up. Then she looks the other direction and mutters, "Echor," toward the fire to chill it down a bit. Hopefully anyone that notices anything strange will believe embers from the bonfire caught the table cloth on fire.
The crowd lets out a shout, those nearby react to it, some panic and move, others observing, then, for some reason the panic ceases. The cheer the fire! Celebrate it even! Some people reach for the table and move to haul it toward the bonfire. Still, the reaction gives Selina a chance to observe, seemingly entirely unnoticed. Four individuals with rings of the Black Flame. They work against the crowd, manipulating people, encouraging the revery.
They are needed to maintain the link between the burgeoning creature being beckoned, she could easily surmise. They are on guard now, looking for the source of the lowering heat, which serves to make them more obvious to the hero's gaze.
Selina remains where she is for a few moments, watching the panicked wave turn to continued revelry. "There is an old saying about fighting fire with fire," she mutters to herself as she spots the four ritualists focused on finding whomever might have hampered their ritual. She holds up one hand and chants quietly to herself, behind the tree, "Heat of the sun, beaming down, find your targets, all around... Fireball!" That last bit comes out for most as 'Naurcorn' if they are familiar at all with her spells in combat. Heat collects into a small flame hovering above her hand. And she turns around the tree and lobs it toward the ritualists, trying to get as few others as possible, while making sure to hit as many Black Flames as she can. The crowd can ignore a table cloth on fire. How many can ignore people on fire?
Fighting fire with fire, fighting fire with fire. Well. Perhaps it's a different form of that adage in the world that Selina calls home. Most people in this world would say 'you can't' before that line. But not Selina. Perhaps there's another saying, when all you have is fire all your problems start looking a lot like tinder? Something like that.
A small effort for the talented sorcerer, the flames soar dramatically through the sky and that ignites, pardon the word usage, a panic amongst the crowd. Screams go out as flames ignite, for a moment, the clothing of one of the ringed individuals. The detonation disorients two of their number, but the other two turn hawkishly towards Selina and scowl. Beginning to move through the now panicking revelry toward her, reaching into their clothing perhaps for weapons to turn against her.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
Meridith is heading out for a walk on the misty streets for her home. Where she winds up is up in the air, hard to say. A lot swirls about in her mind at the moment, mysteries and murders. Guilt and duty. A grim sense of isolation.
While Meridith is in contempletive silence walking towards her home through the mist-clad street, the quiet evening hours swirl with the wind just as her thoughts do. In that silence, alit by the fullmoon above, she'd find the darkness maybe a little more oppressive than usual. The hard-packed dirt road under her crunches with every step, the only sound in the eerily quiet path overtaken by foliage on either side. Tall tree branches, thicker in these parts high above, don't make a sound in their sway under the wind. It's all too quiet, too silent. The sort of silence that heralds only strife afoot.
The steady rhythm of her footsteps abates, but a moment, midstep. A simple check, predators will match footsteps, be they animal or man. She knows this well enough to listen for the distinct sound of a footstep to match the one she halted, then like that she just continues. Meridith has spent time in these woods, hunting, and hunted to know the energy in the air. The skipping of a heart beat signals her excitement, anxiety or delight it'd be hard to say.
Meridith's phone buzzes.
It's a message, should she manage to look down at her phone for it. A mass-delivered report of /something/ in accordance with the Venetian laws to uphold and upkeep. Though, maybe she won't have the opportunity to look at it further, or proper. Because before she can inspect anything of it, she'd find that something, deep in that darkness, out of sight, does match her footsteps. A third one, one that doesn't belong to her. Heavier, enough to signal that it was not merely the sound of her own footfalls crunching the dirt-packed road.
Whatever is out there, in the silence, it heralds trepidation to fear, in the rustle of bushes, the shiver of the canopy above. Her veiled excitement is met with by something that snarls, vicious and unforgiving. If she were to only look in its direction, she'd find a pair of yellow eyes watching her with cruel intent made obvious. A lunacy-stricken sight, slowly crawling that behemothian, feral muzzle out of the dark in a mouthful of razored fangs. The drool trailing down the corner of its mouth speaks of one thing.
Hunger.
Meridith flicks a gaze to her buzzing phone, seeing the first few words of some official report that at a glance requires a fifty fifty guess of spam or something vital. It's enough to distract her for a moment, but only a moment. She pivots once, slow, easy calm, then...the sight takes her breath away.
This won't be her first encounter with a lunacy stricken wolf. Blade in hand she dispatched one whom she even befriended. Another, weaker one as well. Still, it isn't as though she relishes the thought of encountering yet another wolf. She lets out a slow exhale, eyes on eyes. She puts a foot bent, body vibrating with energy. Who makes the first move?
That snarling visage, filling the darkness, the silence with a hoarse, broken voice of its own in rumbling timbre seems unphased by Meridith's energy. If anything, that line of drool now trails on either side of its maw, like she may have just stirred that pitless hunger, brushed upon the ravenous madness he's under beneath the full moon. Slowly, in a smooth motion, the wolf retreats into the shadows. The last sight of it, beside his eyes that remain yellow, glowing, focused singularly open her, is him licking his chops clean, flash teeth the size of knives.
Maybe she'd feel in that brief second the danger she had been under. Had that buzz in her phone distracted her for longer, just for another second, that wolf would've been upon her - but now that her attention is cast out all around once more... It's only a flash of yellow trailing around. Pacing the edge of darkness, out of sight. No twigs are beaten under it, no sound is made. It's a predator on the prowl, hiding within the foliage, waiting, for now, perhaps to see whether she'll take the challenge of stepping into the forest, the darkness, or stay in the relatively low but alit open path and be hounded for every lip of attention.
Meridith lets out a half exhale of tension as the beast strides away from her. She inhales low and moves, keeping the beast in her sight at all times, wary, as she signals out to the rest of her contacts where she is and what she's uncovered. A lunatic werewolf is far from a threat she is eager to tackle along.
But she does have to, and the moment that fear overtakes her discipline it's over. So she keeps ready, watching, and slowly moving down the road.
While she does move along the road, so does the wolf. It's no doubt the reason for the string of criminal activity -- one that she was warned about, or would be, in her text. There is no assault that arrives, yet. The predator bides his time, giving her ample opportunity to call for any help she may need, she may want, to tackle what this beast has in store for her. But it is clear, if anything, that it has a patience paper thin while it stalks close. Low snarls break the undiluted silence of the path they're in, the yellow eyes unblinking, ever poised to strike, to use those bared fangs.
Is it closer? The wolf hangs just at the edge, now, bolder.
Meridith knows the radius of prey and predator. The predator tests the boundaries, curious, testing. You close, little by little, lull the prey into easing. The fear is the chase, prey hate being chased, predator hates chasing. So the game is a gamble of when it's worth starting the hunt.
someone But, Meridith doesn't consider herself prey. She stops hard as the wolf hangs at the edge and lets out a low noise, not unlike a growl. Then, she pivots and with a thrust of telekinetic force throws the wolf back.
Meridith knows the radius of prey and predator. The predator tests the boundaries, curious, testing. You close, little by little, lull the prey into easing. The fear is the chase, prey hate being chased, predator hates chasing. So the game is a gamble of when it's worth starting the hunt.
But, Meridith doesn't consider herself prey. She stops hard as the wolf hangs at the edge and lets out a low noise, not unlike a growl. Then, she pivots and with a thrust of telekinetic force throws the wolf back.
Just teetering on edge, it is Meridith that acts first. Right when that first paw breaches the treshold of the sanctity provided by her dimly-lit path, the telekinetic force slams into the wolf at once. It goes back into the darkness, practically flung with a loud snarl. In it, those yellow eyes grow more distant, but they never break sight of her. Unseen, the wolf is drug upon the heels of its paws, claws clutching the earth. It slides, stood against the force.
But that is enough.
What follows right after is a leap, a pounce of earth-shattering, land-claiming proportions that propel it right back to where it was. Then more, into the light. It's a behemoth of a creature, far, far larger than a regular man when it leaps into proper, full form and in sight. Fangs bared, teeth a snarl, clenched, staring down the prey that dared to act out against it. That moment of keen testing ends when it takes another step, then charges ahead, right into Meridith with the idea of crushing into her with a massive shoulder.
Meridith takes a deep breath, glowering at the wold. Without her gear, this battle is far from likely to turn to her favor. She still acts big, strong, capable, fighting the racing heartbeat and terror that rises to overwhelm her mind and body. She gives the wolf a firm glare, then as it leaps towards her she lets out a sound, sharp and fearful. Her own body springs to the side, trained enough without to know how to move as she bursts into a sprint toward her home.
Th wolf gives chase as soon as Meridith springs away from that initial attack. Another snarl, ferocious in his approach. However fast she may be, the wolf is simply *faster* under the fullmoon, with his size that tears through the path. Saliva and drool is a constant sign of his hunger, that pitless despair, the desire, the need, shown in the luminous, heightened glow of his eyes singularly focused and trained upon her back. Another set of sets, matching, and another.
The wolf slams into her from the side, all of its weight used for the singular purpose of shoving her out of the way, off-kilter and off of her path to reach the relative safety of her abode.
Meridith does her best to slow the chase, a burst of telekinetic energy, a lifting, and leap that sends her soaring beyond the limits of human ability. All of it, and what she finds is nothing. That pitless hunger keeps her pinned down in the hunt, then she cries out, tumbling across the ground into a low crouch from the force, aching.
The wolf reels from the strike it delivered by slamming into her. While she soars, softening the hit, the tumble, the wolf turns, on its haunches, rising in a snarl that runs every fur bristled. There is a sound in the distance. Some voices rise from the distance, a few flaslights. It appears the wolf was, despite its hunt set upon her, was under a hunt of its own? Maybe it is whoever she informed, maybe not. But one thing is clear, and it is that the wolf is on borrowed time, as of now.
Yet, in its lunacy, it bears forward. Hissing, growling -- Unless Meridith can recover and flee in time, it is another pounce that it prepares, sinking low to soon strike. The look of its eyes, though, tell of mockery. It is as if it challenges his prey to attack, to defend itself, do *anything* but run. If she dares.
Meridith flicks a hand forward toward the beast. Upon hearing the others seeing the light of their flashlights she stands, shakily to her feet and lets out a -mighty- shout. "The beast is here!" she declares to the world, daring the beast to waste its time by coming toward her, then in an act of brazen stupidity, launches herself towards it. Eager to buy the others time to find it.
Selina, blending into the uneasy mirth while plotting her intervention, noticed peculiar behaviors led by Black Flame adherents, unmistakably performing a summoning ritual by the bonfire. Acting deftly, she attempted to disrupt the ritual by igniting a tablecloth as a distraction, using her elemental magic while avoiding revealing her presence. However, when her subtlety proved insufficient to derail the cultists' sinister efforts, she escalated her tactics by launching a fiery assault directly upon the perpetrators. This bold move incited chaos amidst the once-jovial assembly, veering the event into a panicked tumult. Simultaneously, the narrative skillfully intertwines the story of Meridith, who embarks on an atmospheric and solitary walk that soon morphs into a confrontation with a predatory entity, hinting at a larger, impending threat that ties back to the essence of shared obfuscation and inevitable confrontation with the darkness lurking just beyond the realm of the everyday.
In the end, Selina's story sees her actively combating the dark forces at play, showcasing her blend of strategic thinking and magical prowess against a backdrop of peculiar revelry turned sour. Meanwhile, Meridith's narrative arc concludes on a note of bravery mingled with recklessness, as she decides to confront the beast head-on despite the odds, driven by a fusion of duty and a desperation to correct the wrongs that stand before her. Both stories, distinct yet intertwined by the thematic threads of mystery, confrontation, and the personal journeys of their protagonists, leave an impression of unresolved conflicts set against the enigmatic and often perilous tapestry of their world.
(Selina's odd encounter(SRMeridith):SRMeridith)
[Mon Apr 22 2024]
At the pool tables
This part of the structure is occupied mostly by a series of pool tables
and is kept well lit by lights hanging from the rafters above. An L-shaped
row of booths continue from the east and round out the southwestern corner
of the log building before heading north along the eastern wall. A path
between the pool tables and booths allow patrons to pass from the courtyard
to the east to the oval shaped bar to the west.
It is afternoon, about 53F(11C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target has been invited to a seemingly innocent town gathering. As the night progresses, they realize that the gathering is a front for a Black Flame ritual designed to summon an eldritch horror. Your target must find a way to stop the ritual or mitigate its effects before the horror is fully summoned. They may need to confront the cultists directly, find a way to disrupt the ritual, or convince others at the gathering to help them. They may also have to deal with the fallout from the ritual, such as the arrival of a lesser eldritch horror or the cultists' retaliation for their interference.)
Selina has found herself with a curious invite to a town gathering. Taking place out in the woods, a bonfire, with drinks and booze and a celebration most merry. Perhaps she has her own reasons for attending, recruitment, information gathering or otherwise. What winds up intriuging her about the festivities? What ends up getting her to go? And does she bring anyone?
Selina was just sitting around in the Lodge considering ordering a large volume of liquor when an invitation lands on her table. One of those deals where 'who' is less important as the target, as much as a net to get as many people as possible sort of deals. She waits a few minutes before looking at the invitation. There does seem to be some potential in it. She sighs, perhaps needing to take her mind off of something. She goes over the list of potential people she can take with her, but none really fit the bill. She checks her phone just in case, but then shakes her head.
There is chatter in the lodge. Selina is enjoying another quiet evening in the Lodge, and the tantilizing drink special. She might have become a bit of a known figure, friendly with the staff. The party has been advertised around town for quite some time now, but now the direct invitation lands. She appears to have something else on her mind entirely.
Ah, love. Emotions. Attachment. Selina knows loss, this won't be the first or most dire, but perhaps there's something reassuring about the pain she feels. She puts up such an icy facade, perhaps even unknown to her. But... she still cares. Still feels. Sometimes it is better to step off the path when it becomes clear two people don't share the same destination.
Still, perhaps this kind of revery, or work, is just what the Elven Princess needs?
Selina is not really an elven princess in this world. Her ears are quite round, though most of the rest of her features remain the same. Minus a few small things here and there. Like her scales. Still, the invitation is in her hand, and perhaps she finds herself in need of a distraction. She picks up the invitation and moves out to her scooter to go find the party. She is not new to partying and revelry. Though she has not had occasion to cut loose in this realm. Hopefully her busted scooter can make the trip. And she is not opposed to walking a bit if it does not quite make it.
There really not anything like Selina in this world, ears or otherwise. Still, as she herself declares, a distraction is most welcome. The party is north of town, in the woods, but not so deep one would expect trouble. Still, the cloying mists can deepen almost anywhere, so perhaps Selina could do some good deeds while she's out there.
Nothing said anything on the invite about bra's, but, hey, better to have a bra and not need it, then to need a bra and not have it? There's a kind of wisdom there.
The town seems in good spirits, at least for Haven, as she zips around on her busted scooter, an unworthy steed? Still, there are signs, along the roads which turn to dirt paths, and she sees gathering fellow revelers on the way there, on foot, a car or bike here or there along the way parked out. Seems like a good turn out.
Selina is dressed more like a secretary than a party goer, but she considers it good enough. Her cardigan helps to fight against the chill on the way to the party location. When she arrives, she finds a few trees to park the scooter behind. To keep it from getting more smashed by cars that won't even notice they hit it. Once that is done, she heads off toward the party to mingle, find something to do, maybe get a drink. Or maybe not that last one. She has been to one too many poisoning parties to let her guard down that far. Still, she goes in without arms or armor. Mostly because she would stand out like crazy in her white and silver garb.
The party is only just beginning. A clearing in the woods, decent size, and secure enough to probably prevent a forest fire. Illegal? Definitely, but at least it isn't doomed. Selina finds herself fitting in well enough, people give her warm smiles, a lot of different towns folk are gathered from various walks of life.
It's a rather strange assortment of people, business people, trailer park folk, all intermingling. No sign of poisoning, but there's an off feeling to it.
She notices a symbol on more than one attendee, of the Black Flame?
Selina narrows her gaze considerably when she sees the flash of that symbol. The obsidian flame-wreathed globe stands out against other symbols. She has her phone tucked away, so no symbol adorns her in that fashion. She did not think it necessary to broadcast who she was to everyone. Still, if the Black Flames are here, there may be trouble. Her tactical instincts kick in, checking for exit paths, ways to get back to her scooter, which directions she can go without running into monsters in the mist. She does this scanning without moving her head, just letting her eyes collect the visual information for her. She slowly continues to walk through the party, turning a little to cover her bases. "Worse than a poisoning party," she mutters under her breath to herself.
Hospitality is an important thing, especially in the supernatural world. Venice has long exhaustive texts on the importance of Hospitality. When living beings represent the destructive capability exceeding that of the mundane worlds most destructive arsenal, what choice do you have but to try to bind people with social niceties? Backed up with threats of death of course.
Still, judgements must be made. Selina has her choice of exits, the woods open on every side, the crowd is thick but thick enough to use to blend without impending her delicate agile footsteps. The Black Flame. A bonfire. An odd assortment of towns people all around her.
Worse than a poisoning party by far.
Selina remains blended into the crowd but vigilant against whatever plans the Black Flame might be enacting. She does not know what their plan is well enough to disrupt it yet. Although, that table with refreshing beverages and a table cloth that looks flammable could be a good place to start. She tries to make sure to keep track of the Black Flame agent and the flammable table cloth for future references as she continues, bobbing and weaving with the crowd and not really in a hurry to get anywhere at the moment.
It's overwhelming, the amount of angles, and vantages. People mill, mindless and content. There's an excited buzz in the air, joyous and easy going. But there's something else too, nefarious intent, people mixed into the crowd likely seeking more. But she doesn't -see- anything nefarious. Perhaps it's paranoia? Can she really just enjoy herself for an evening?
What better distraction is there for Selina than some more work? Heroics? Adventure? Is it possible she's just looking for trouble where there is none?
The buzz in the crowd reaches a crescendo as flames ignite, the central bonfire, a towering structure of dried wood goes up in a gout of flame. Heat radiates off it, licking at Selina's skin even at a distance. The crowd cheers and drinks are had.
Selina only spotted one person with a Black Flame symbol, after all. So perhaps they are a guest that was invited. She would not wish to break up someone's party just for that, even if it is strange. The flame getting lit probably brings more warmth than she would really like to have, but she cannot diminish it without drawing attention. So she simply slips off her cardigan and folds it over har arms instead. Her eyes continue to travel around, looking for the sign of trouble she suspects is coming soon.
It's a party, and an enjoyable one, at least judging by the reactions of the towns people involved. Selina sees joy. A circle of people dancing near the fire to music blaring off of a phone and a set of speaks. No official DJ, but people talk about a playlist others can contribute to. It's all probably noise to Selina, but everyone else seems to be enjoying it. She may be too guarded to snag a drink, wisely, but it's all there. Someone has a barbecue going, a huge grill rolled up for the ocassion, and the smell of meat fills the air, though a ring of corn roasts merrily as well.
The flame though, the bonfire, and heat. It's more than just the heat of a flame. There's something else, something that roils within the center of that impossible heat. Had Selina not birthed Shemra into this world, she might not have known what it is. But she does. Something is stirring in the flame, being drawn forth. And this party is its welcome.
"No, no, no no," Selina says to herself before glancing over toward the table with the tablecloth she had spotted earlier. She wiggles her foot to get her anklet loose then ducks behind a tree to be hidden and get line of sight with the table cloth. "Raui-o naur," she mutters to create a weak line of fire toward the table cloth to light it up. Then she looks the other direction and mutters, "Echor," toward the fire to chill it down a bit. Hopefully anyone that notices anything strange will believe embers from the bonfire caught the table cloth on fire.
The crowd lets out a shout, those nearby react to it, some panic and move, others observing, then, for some reason the panic ceases. The cheer the fire! Celebrate it even! Some people reach for the table and move to haul it toward the bonfire. Still, the reaction gives Selina a chance to observe, seemingly entirely unnoticed. Four individuals with rings of the Black Flame. They work against the crowd, manipulating people, encouraging the revery.
They are needed to maintain the link between the burgeoning creature being beckoned, she could easily surmise. They are on guard now, looking for the source of the lowering heat, which serves to make them more obvious to the hero's gaze.
Selina remains where she is for a few moments, watching the panicked wave turn to continued revelry. "There is an old saying about fighting fire with fire," she mutters to herself as she spots the four ritualists focused on finding whomever might have hampered their ritual. She holds up one hand and chants quietly to herself, behind the tree, "Heat of the sun, beaming down, find your targets, all around... Fireball!" That last bit comes out for most as 'Naurcorn' if they are familiar at all with her spells in combat. Heat collects into a small flame hovering above her hand. And she turns around the tree and lobs it toward the ritualists, trying to get as few others as possible, while making sure to hit as many Black Flames as she can. The crowd can ignore a table cloth on fire. How many can ignore people on fire?
Fighting fire with fire, fighting fire with fire. Well. Perhaps it's a different form of that adage in the world that Selina calls home. Most people in this world would say 'you can't' before that line. But not Selina. Perhaps there's another saying, when all you have is fire all your problems start looking a lot like tinder? Something like that.
A small effort for the talented sorcerer, the flames soar dramatically through the sky and that ignites, pardon the word usage, a panic amongst the crowd. Screams go out as flames ignite, for a moment, the clothing of one of the ringed individuals. The detonation disorients two of their number, but the other two turn hawkishly towards Selina and scowl. Beginning to move through the now panicking revelry toward her, reaching into their clothing perhaps for weapons to turn against her.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
Meridith is heading out for a walk on the misty streets for her home. Where she winds up is up in the air, hard to say. A lot swirls about in her mind at the moment, mysteries and murders. Guilt and duty. A grim sense of isolation.
While Meridith is in contempletive silence walking towards her home through the mist-clad street, the quiet evening hours swirl with the wind just as her thoughts do. In that silence, alit by the fullmoon above, she'd find the darkness maybe a little more oppressive than usual. The hard-packed dirt road under her crunches with every step, the only sound in the eerily quiet path overtaken by foliage on either side. Tall tree branches, thicker in these parts high above, don't make a sound in their sway under the wind. It's all too quiet, too silent. The sort of silence that heralds only strife afoot.
The steady rhythm of her footsteps abates, but a moment, midstep. A simple check, predators will match footsteps, be they animal or man. She knows this well enough to listen for the distinct sound of a footstep to match the one she halted, then like that she just continues. Meridith has spent time in these woods, hunting, and hunted to know the energy in the air. The skipping of a heart beat signals her excitement, anxiety or delight it'd be hard to say.
Meridith's phone buzzes.
It's a message, should she manage to look down at her phone for it. A mass-delivered report of /something/ in accordance with the Venetian laws to uphold and upkeep. Though, maybe she won't have the opportunity to look at it further, or proper. Because before she can inspect anything of it, she'd find that something, deep in that darkness, out of sight, does match her footsteps. A third one, one that doesn't belong to her. Heavier, enough to signal that it was not merely the sound of her own footfalls crunching the dirt-packed road.
Whatever is out there, in the silence, it heralds trepidation to fear, in the rustle of bushes, the shiver of the canopy above. Her veiled excitement is met with by something that snarls, vicious and unforgiving. If she were to only look in its direction, she'd find a pair of yellow eyes watching her with cruel intent made obvious. A lunacy-stricken sight, slowly crawling that behemothian, feral muzzle out of the dark in a mouthful of razored fangs. The drool trailing down the corner of its mouth speaks of one thing.
Hunger.
Meridith flicks a gaze to her buzzing phone, seeing the first few words of some official report that at a glance requires a fifty fifty guess of spam or something vital. It's enough to distract her for a moment, but only a moment. She pivots once, slow, easy calm, then...the sight takes her breath away.
This won't be her first encounter with a lunacy stricken wolf. Blade in hand she dispatched one whom she even befriended. Another, weaker one as well. Still, it isn't as though she relishes the thought of encountering yet another wolf. She lets out a slow exhale, eyes on eyes. She puts a foot bent, body vibrating with energy. Who makes the first move?
That snarling visage, filling the darkness, the silence with a hoarse, broken voice of its own in rumbling timbre seems unphased by Meridith's energy. If anything, that line of drool now trails on either side of its maw, like she may have just stirred that pitless hunger, brushed upon the ravenous madness he's under beneath the full moon. Slowly, in a smooth motion, the wolf retreats into the shadows. The last sight of it, beside his eyes that remain yellow, glowing, focused singularly open her, is him licking his chops clean, flash teeth the size of knives.
Maybe she'd feel in that brief second the danger she had been under. Had that buzz in her phone distracted her for longer, just for another second, that wolf would've been upon her - but now that her attention is cast out all around once more... It's only a flash of yellow trailing around. Pacing the edge of darkness, out of sight. No twigs are beaten under it, no sound is made. It's a predator on the prowl, hiding within the foliage, waiting, for now, perhaps to see whether she'll take the challenge of stepping into the forest, the darkness, or stay in the relatively low but alit open path and be hounded for every lip of attention.
Meridith lets out a half exhale of tension as the beast strides away from her. She inhales low and moves, keeping the beast in her sight at all times, wary, as she signals out to the rest of her contacts where she is and what she's uncovered. A lunatic werewolf is far from a threat she is eager to tackle along.
But she does have to, and the moment that fear overtakes her discipline it's over. So she keeps ready, watching, and slowly moving down the road.
While she does move along the road, so does the wolf. It's no doubt the reason for the string of criminal activity -- one that she was warned about, or would be, in her text. There is no assault that arrives, yet. The predator bides his time, giving her ample opportunity to call for any help she may need, she may want, to tackle what this beast has in store for her. But it is clear, if anything, that it has a patience paper thin while it stalks close. Low snarls break the undiluted silence of the path they're in, the yellow eyes unblinking, ever poised to strike, to use those bared fangs.
Is it closer? The wolf hangs just at the edge, now, bolder.
Meridith knows the radius of prey and predator. The predator tests the boundaries, curious, testing. You close, little by little, lull the prey into easing. The fear is the chase, prey hate being chased, predator hates chasing. So the game is a gamble of when it's worth starting the hunt.
someone But, Meridith doesn't consider herself prey. She stops hard as the wolf hangs at the edge and lets out a low noise, not unlike a growl. Then, she pivots and with a thrust of telekinetic force throws the wolf back.
Meridith knows the radius of prey and predator. The predator tests the boundaries, curious, testing. You close, little by little, lull the prey into easing. The fear is the chase, prey hate being chased, predator hates chasing. So the game is a gamble of when it's worth starting the hunt.
But, Meridith doesn't consider herself prey. She stops hard as the wolf hangs at the edge and lets out a low noise, not unlike a growl. Then, she pivots and with a thrust of telekinetic force throws the wolf back.
Just teetering on edge, it is Meridith that acts first. Right when that first paw breaches the treshold of the sanctity provided by her dimly-lit path, the telekinetic force slams into the wolf at once. It goes back into the darkness, practically flung with a loud snarl. In it, those yellow eyes grow more distant, but they never break sight of her. Unseen, the wolf is drug upon the heels of its paws, claws clutching the earth. It slides, stood against the force.
But that is enough.
What follows right after is a leap, a pounce of earth-shattering, land-claiming proportions that propel it right back to where it was. Then more, into the light. It's a behemoth of a creature, far, far larger than a regular man when it leaps into proper, full form and in sight. Fangs bared, teeth a snarl, clenched, staring down the prey that dared to act out against it. That moment of keen testing ends when it takes another step, then charges ahead, right into Meridith with the idea of crushing into her with a massive shoulder.
Meridith takes a deep breath, glowering at the wold. Without her gear, this battle is far from likely to turn to her favor. She still acts big, strong, capable, fighting the racing heartbeat and terror that rises to overwhelm her mind and body. She gives the wolf a firm glare, then as it leaps towards her she lets out a sound, sharp and fearful. Her own body springs to the side, trained enough without to know how to move as she bursts into a sprint toward her home.
Th wolf gives chase as soon as Meridith springs away from that initial attack. Another snarl, ferocious in his approach. However fast she may be, the wolf is simply *faster* under the fullmoon, with his size that tears through the path. Saliva and drool is a constant sign of his hunger, that pitless despair, the desire, the need, shown in the luminous, heightened glow of his eyes singularly focused and trained upon her back. Another set of sets, matching, and another.
The wolf slams into her from the side, all of its weight used for the singular purpose of shoving her out of the way, off-kilter and off of her path to reach the relative safety of her abode.
Meridith does her best to slow the chase, a burst of telekinetic energy, a lifting, and leap that sends her soaring beyond the limits of human ability. All of it, and what she finds is nothing. That pitless hunger keeps her pinned down in the hunt, then she cries out, tumbling across the ground into a low crouch from the force, aching.
The wolf reels from the strike it delivered by slamming into her. While she soars, softening the hit, the tumble, the wolf turns, on its haunches, rising in a snarl that runs every fur bristled. There is a sound in the distance. Some voices rise from the distance, a few flaslights. It appears the wolf was, despite its hunt set upon her, was under a hunt of its own? Maybe it is whoever she informed, maybe not. But one thing is clear, and it is that the wolf is on borrowed time, as of now.
Yet, in its lunacy, it bears forward. Hissing, growling -- Unless Meridith can recover and flee in time, it is another pounce that it prepares, sinking low to soon strike. The look of its eyes, though, tell of mockery. It is as if it challenges his prey to attack, to defend itself, do *anything* but run. If she dares.
Meridith flicks a hand forward toward the beast. Upon hearing the others seeing the light of their flashlights she stands, shakily to her feet and lets out a -mighty- shout. "The beast is here!" she declares to the world, daring the beast to waste its time by coming toward her, then in an act of brazen stupidity, launches herself towards it. Eager to buy the others time to find it.