Encounterlogs
Siofras Odd Encounter Sr Novel 250213
In the sterile ambiance of a hospital room, Siofra and Juliet find themselves embroiled in a peculiar situation that blurs the lines between the ordinary and the supernatural. As Siofra, draped in the casual comfort of her cardigan, interacts with Juliet, there’s a light-hearted banter that belies the seriousness of their task. They are there under the guise of a mixture of work and play, but an underlying mission to address a ghost presence -- an entity fragmented and maddened by lost memories -- looms over them. Their conversation, filled with cryptic and playful exchanges, hints at the complexity of the work Siofra is involved in, touching upon the mystical with references to "Prowlers" and "Poppets," underscoring the oddity of their current undertaking.
The encounter takes a grim turn upon the appearance of Doctor Leland Voss, a figure whose initial imposing presence quickly gives way to a grotesque revelation. The once handsome doctor, now a decaying specter with flesh hanging from his bones and a body plagued by the marks of his scalpel, confronts Siofra and Juliet. Casting a baleful intensity around them, the environment shifts as the ghost of Voss questions Siofra's very being with a disdain that chills the bone. The stark transformation from a seemingly mundane hospital visit to a confrontation with the macabre spotlights the unpredictable nature of Siofra and Juliet's work. Doctor Voss, with his contemptuous inquiry and horrific appearance, adds a layer of urgency and danger, pushing Siofra and Juliet into a situation that tests their resolve and willingness to confront the supernatural head-on.
(Siofra's odd encounter(SRNovel):SRNovel)
[Wed Feb 12 2025]
In hospital room 2
This room is sparsely furnished, the sanitary white walls a perfect match
to the linoleum floor and the thin hospital sheets on the gurney that serves
as a bed. A small television mounted in the upper corner of the room is set
at a low volume, and a thin curtain bisects the room in an effort to afford
privacy to the occupant on the other side.
It is dusk, about 18F(-7C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Siofra sifts through her phone, reading a lose briefing as she stands next to the hospital bed of a sleeping Lisa like a hippy selling peace and rainbows.
Juliet puts a hand on her hip and glances up to Siofra, asking, "So like what, is this a work thing?"
Siofra shrugs her cardigan back off her other shoulder. 50' is much too hot. "I dinnae. I'm still gettin' the gab of eht."
Siofra says "It's a little work a little play and a little poppet."
Siofra rounds on Juliet a flow of garment, slapping a sneaker on the tile. "Shite- eht's the BIG poppet. That- well, I'll ask Sam."
Siofra says "Sam's safe."
Grinning a little ruefully at Siofra, Juliet folds her arms and says, "I'm getting into some dumb shit again, aren't I? What's the BEEEEG poppet in this case? I swear, you're probably immune to google translate."
"First, Prowlers are pals that poop on Peckers, Peckers prowl pulses with pinprick neck picks. Petals put parts where parts are picked, Poppets are parts that petals did pick." Siofra explains with in a nursery tone backed up by a valley girl, sassing her neck back and forth with a hung, judging jaw.
Siofra says "OBVIOUSLY. "
"Right, and Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled Poppets, clear as mud," Juliet agrees to Siofra, mulling about the hospital room, and scrolling through her phone. "We should totally go thrifting while we're there though, LA consignment shops are on another level."
Siofra says "Clear as sand, let it burn and ye all."
Getting lost in the play on words more than the play's meaning, Siofra 's ear twitches on the return to subject. "Should we? What's that? Consignment? Prison?"
Siofra says "I can pick up on the context. Clothes?"
"You." Cuts the words, sharp and brisk - the orderly, precisely clipped words of a man who works here and expects to be obeyed. Should Siofra and Juliet turn to look, they see someone who may have once been handsome. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones, high forehead, a widow's peak, black hair bordering on silver and a look of utter contemptible -disdain- pointed directly at Siofra.
There, the humanity ends. A closer look reveals a rotting husk of shaved flesh, drooping muscle and crawling flies, sagging above layers of silicone and the drag of a scalpel. The door behind him *slams* shut as the white about the room suddenly intensifies, the darkness chased away as glaring, baleful light steadily becomes brighter and brighter.
"Asymmetric," Spits the labeled man, the tag upon his labcoat declaring him as Doctor Leland Voss - plastic surgeon. His flesh and clothes partially see through as he strides over towards Siofra, the sleeves showing a lack of hands as they dangle, limp.
"You," he seethed, his voice not quite a whisper, not quite a hiss, but something more insidious, curling through the stagnant air like vaporized formaldehyde. "What in the name of God and scalpels are you? And more importantly - who had the gall to leave you unfinished?"
The encounter takes a grim turn upon the appearance of Doctor Leland Voss, a figure whose initial imposing presence quickly gives way to a grotesque revelation. The once handsome doctor, now a decaying specter with flesh hanging from his bones and a body plagued by the marks of his scalpel, confronts Siofra and Juliet. Casting a baleful intensity around them, the environment shifts as the ghost of Voss questions Siofra's very being with a disdain that chills the bone. The stark transformation from a seemingly mundane hospital visit to a confrontation with the macabre spotlights the unpredictable nature of Siofra and Juliet's work. Doctor Voss, with his contemptuous inquiry and horrific appearance, adds a layer of urgency and danger, pushing Siofra and Juliet into a situation that tests their resolve and willingness to confront the supernatural head-on.
(Siofra's odd encounter(SRNovel):SRNovel)
[Wed Feb 12 2025]
In hospital room 2
This room is sparsely furnished, the sanitary white walls a perfect match
to the linoleum floor and the thin hospital sheets on the gurney that serves
as a bed. A small television mounted in the upper corner of the room is set
at a low volume, and a thin curtain bisects the room in an effort to afford
privacy to the occupant on the other side.
It is dusk, about 18F(-7C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey clouds in the sky.
(A ghost with only fragments of memory that have driven them near insane is attacking your target. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Siofra sifts through her phone, reading a lose briefing as she stands next to the hospital bed of a sleeping Lisa like a hippy selling peace and rainbows.
Juliet puts a hand on her hip and glances up to Siofra, asking, "So like what, is this a work thing?"
Siofra shrugs her cardigan back off her other shoulder. 50' is much too hot. "I dinnae. I'm still gettin' the gab of eht."
Siofra says "It's a little work a little play and a little poppet."
Siofra rounds on Juliet a flow of garment, slapping a sneaker on the tile. "Shite- eht's the BIG poppet. That- well, I'll ask Sam."
Siofra says "Sam's safe."
Grinning a little ruefully at Siofra, Juliet folds her arms and says, "I'm getting into some dumb shit again, aren't I? What's the BEEEEG poppet in this case? I swear, you're probably immune to google translate."
"First, Prowlers are pals that poop on Peckers, Peckers prowl pulses with pinprick neck picks. Petals put parts where parts are picked, Poppets are parts that petals did pick." Siofra explains with in a nursery tone backed up by a valley girl, sassing her neck back and forth with a hung, judging jaw.
Siofra says "OBVIOUSLY. "
"Right, and Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled Poppets, clear as mud," Juliet agrees to Siofra, mulling about the hospital room, and scrolling through her phone. "We should totally go thrifting while we're there though, LA consignment shops are on another level."
Siofra says "Clear as sand, let it burn and ye all."
Getting lost in the play on words more than the play's meaning, Siofra 's ear twitches on the return to subject. "Should we? What's that? Consignment? Prison?"
Siofra says "I can pick up on the context. Clothes?"
"You." Cuts the words, sharp and brisk - the orderly, precisely clipped words of a man who works here and expects to be obeyed. Should Siofra and Juliet turn to look, they see someone who may have once been handsome. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones, high forehead, a widow's peak, black hair bordering on silver and a look of utter contemptible -disdain- pointed directly at Siofra.
There, the humanity ends. A closer look reveals a rotting husk of shaved flesh, drooping muscle and crawling flies, sagging above layers of silicone and the drag of a scalpel. The door behind him *slams* shut as the white about the room suddenly intensifies, the darkness chased away as glaring, baleful light steadily becomes brighter and brighter.
"Asymmetric," Spits the labeled man, the tag upon his labcoat declaring him as Doctor Leland Voss - plastic surgeon. His flesh and clothes partially see through as he strides over towards Siofra, the sleeves showing a lack of hands as they dangle, limp.
"You," he seethed, his voice not quite a whisper, not quite a hiss, but something more insidious, curling through the stagnant air like vaporized formaldehyde. "What in the name of God and scalpels are you? And more importantly - who had the gall to leave you unfinished?"