Encounterlogs
Tabithas Odd Encounter Sr Savannah 240301
In the story, Tabitha finds herself wrestling with an overwhelming urge to sleep while navigating the aisles of Haven Hardware. Despite her efforts to resist, she succumbs to the pull of slumber, triggered by a dream stalker intent on invading her dreams. As she drifts into a nightmarish realm, her actual body collapses onto the sidewalk off Paine Avenue, vulnerable and exposed. Within her dream, Tabitha is trapped in a concrete box, a physical manifestation of her entrapment by the stalker. Her desperate attempts to escape lead her through a series of dark, unsettling environments, each offering glimpses into her subconscious fears and desires. Despite calling out for help and asserting control over her dream, the stalker's presence looms large, promising more encounters in future dreams. The blurred lines between reality and the dream world leave Tabitha questioning her own perception even as she wakes, battered and confused, on the street.
Meanwhile, Meridith's peaceful reprieve in her cozy cabin is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a hastily parked car and approaching footsteps. Preparing for unforeseen threats, she quickly arms herself with a sword, bow, and breastplate, signaling her readiness to confront whatever or whoever dares to intrude upon her sanctuary. The contrast between the serenity of her home and the sudden intrusion underscores the ever-present tension between safety and danger in her world. As she braces for the unknown, Meridith's actions reveal her as a determined and capable defender of her haven, willing to face unforeseen challenges head-on. The story threads together themes of vulnerability, resilience, and the fight against unseen enemies, both in the physical realm and within the depths of one's mind.
(Tabitha's odd encounter(SRSavannah):SRSavannah)
[Mon Feb 26 2024]
In the Shopping Area of Haven Hardware
The floor is wooden with rows of shelves and racks for tools, items, and apparel. The walls are painted a russet brown color, with forest green trim. To the south is an open area of wall that leads to the checkout area. In the corner of the western wall is a blue door with a white sign that reads BATHROOM. The lighting overhead is inset and bright.
It is afternoon, about 28F(-2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target has been singled out by a dream stalker who's invading their dreams. They cannot be woken, but their allies may be able to go into their dreams after them to help them fight off the invader and survive the nightmare.
)
As Tabitha went about her afternoon there was something nagging at the back of her mind. Sleep. She could feel the tug and the pull of tiredness stalking her like a phantom. That invisible string wanting to pull her into a slumber from how her eyes might feel more heavy and lidded to the way her movements might grow more sluggish. There was something behind that feeling and it had not made its presence known just yet. It was stalking her and it was intending to find her at her most vulnerable, perhaps within her dreams.
Tabitha has just walked out of the restroom at Haven Hardware, and has just started perusing some of the items there for sale, all very ordinary, and yet very questionable. For her part, she does look to be paler than normal, and tired, as if she'd not gotten near enough sleep the night before, or is succumbing to something far more recent. Sleep. She looks as if she needs it. When she turns to step outside into the daylight, she looks behind her, a feeling, a sixth sense. She is not unfamiliar with this feeling, that of being stalked. It is a daily occurence to her, so she may feel, whether true or not. She mutters, upward, as if to something unseen, "Go away..." Then, she continues on her way, up the street toward Paine and hanging a right to edge her tired self toward Ash. If she can make it.
That feeling of being stalked might be strong within Tabitha due to her experiences she has on a daily basis, and today was no exception. The tired feeling clinging to her and wearing on her body, her mind, continued to press and it kept feeling more oppressive as she turned down one street towards another, heading in some direction that the stalker might know or might not. Her words don't seem to cause whatever it is that is roping her into this situation to release the tie it has around her now, tugging her closer and closer to slumber. Those eyelids would feel heavier, her movements more sluggish, the drifting dreamlike state that is now her reality starts to fuse together so that familiar streets might have flashes of wavy distortion that shows something else beyond, glimpses of tunnels and cement walls.
The one thing that comes to Tabitha's mind, and spoken aloud, when she realizes that the scenery has shifted from road to walls and tunnels in the blink of a sleepy eye, "Looks like I took a wrong turn in Albuquerque." A memory of sitting in front of the television on Saturday mornings as a young child watching a billionth rerun of some Bugs Bunny cartoon. What she does not realize, at least in this very moment of just slipping into an unnatural sleep, is that her actual body has taken a tumble, a rather nasty prat fall onto the sidewalk somewhere off Paine Avenue.
Strings of slumber seem to wrap themselves around Tabitha's legs to send her plummeting into that dreamlike sleep that Havenites often experience. She falls onto the sidewalk somewhere off Paine Avenue, left there sleeping and able to be discovered which brings a whole different problem into play depending on who does the discovering. That comment she makes does bring back memories of Saturday morning cartoons, Bugs Bunny and all of that fun wrapped up into animated episodes that slip through her mind. It is nothing like what she experiences when she 'wakes' in the dream. She is wearing the same clothing, represented as herself within the confines of a cement box. She could even come to the conclusion that she was awake and not asleep, the Syndicate does things like this all the time, but this cement box has a door attached to it. She is cramped inside, having to crawl towards the door to even try to see if she can escape from it.
Those fonder memories of Saturday mornings with a bowl of cereal and a doting father watching and chuckling at old cartoons Tabitha doesn't understand soon go out the non-existent window when she finally comes to. Something dawning on her that she is trapped. Perhaps not the realization she's trapped inside her mind, but trapped nonetheless. The panic starts to set in, the fear of the unknown. She does indeed make her way to the faintly visible door, hands out in front of her as the light that was there when she was in the half state of slumber now gone and replaced with nothing but a dim one. "Hello?" she calls out, tone shaky, and uncertain.
A good first attempt by Tabitha to greet someone or anything and find a response only allows her to hear the echoes within that box as she approaches the door in the distance. It has a handle on it and it can be opened, but what it leads to in this dim place might be worse than the box, it will be hard to tell until she opens it. The light comes from somewhere, but it isn't obvious as to where. It is just enough to navigate without actually being able to see the details of things, that shadowed place that allows a person's mind to wander and insert what the imagination and frightened psyche of someone trapped might be able to conjure up to startled and scare.
Tabitha finds the handle on the door, but she does not shake or rattle it for the time being. She stands there, and she puts her ear to it, as if to listen, see if she can hear anything that would give an indication as to whom has her, or where she might actually be. She has no special hearing abilities, darned human ears, but she is silent, except for her loud heartbeat, to listen best to her ability.
There is a sound that comes from beyond that door as Tabitha places her ear to it to try and listen. It is the sound of metal scraping. A slow, sliding scrape as if something is being pulled in off-beat strides. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. It is definitely not a comforting sound, but within that confines of the cement box she has arrived there is little else to find comfort. The shadows around her seem to slowly be coming closer, following that heartbeat of her heart now, pulsing with each thump of it to close in around her as if the room itself might be getting smaller, it could just be a trick on the eyes but the feeling is beginning to become more and more oppressive.
Tabitha fidgets around her tote to find her flashlight, and flicks that device on, or at least she tries, whether the light works? But should it, it is used to dispel at least some of the creeping shadows. She is not Alice, here and she has no drink to drink or cake to eat. Between a rock and a hardplace, she does what any witch would do. She begins to pray, calling to her Goddesses, flashlight shaking in her hand. She also may not be Dorothy, and have a pair of ruby slippers, but some of that chant that comes out in panicked whispers is: Home.
A flashlight does work to dispel some of those shadows, but it seems like the room is actually getting smaller, or was it? It is hard to remember in this place with Tabitha's thoughts becoming something muddled and foggy when it comes to the last however long she has been here. How did she even get here in this place? Scraaaaaape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. The praying and the calling to her Goddesses would work if she was conscious for her body to actually be releported home like those ruby slippers clicking just might. There is no place like it. There really is no place like it, and this is not home, but she is stuck here right now in this place with her body off to the side in a ditch along the sidewalk of Paine Avenue. The ritual seems to fail her in her time of need, or her Goddesses, or just the fact she is not awake right now to make it happen. Instead that flashlight can help her see that the box is closing in around her and the door might be her only escape, but into what? Scraaaape. Scrape. Scraaaape. Scrape. The silence is broken every so often by that terrible sound and now, another, a faint whisper against her ear in a tickle of what could only be felt as breath, "I've been watching you..."
Tabitha twists her flashlight toward the side where the breathy words tickle her ear. "Who is there?" But then all she sees are shadows and a closing in room of cement ready to crush her if she cannot escape. Scrape. Escape. Can people die for real in their dreams? Possibly. But also, she is still not fully aware that this is a dream. Her heart beats heavy in her chest. Think, think, think. Another flashback to childhood. Which is worse for her? She flings the door open and seeks to rush out, into whatever other danger awaits. Perhaps whatever lies on the other side will help her realize she is dreaming? Perhaps not. But if her thoughts and memories have any effect ...
Rushing outside of that cement box gives Tabitha more freedom to move. This hallway is wide enough to fit two of her with ceilings that seem to stretch to infinity, but infinity is darkness above. The light is now just flashlight and another source, far away in the distance. Scape. Scraaaape. Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaape. The thing whatever it is must be moving faster now and the light that comes from that movement can be seen and heard, represented with that audio and visual that Tabitha is now confronted with, but it always seems to just be on the horizon now and this hallway continues on for as far as the eye can see. It is not normal, tricks on the senses with depth perception all sorts of screwed up, "Just someone who admires you, from far, but I wanted to see you up close... I had to see you up close..."
murmurs, "This can't be real..." Tabitha says to herself, and whatever entity is there with her. "This isn't real." She calls upward to the infinity of darkness, "This isn't real!" She'd pinch herself, but such matters mean nothing in this world she's been thrust into. She spins in a circle, seeking with that faux hope of light. "Show yourself!" she says, loudly. Perhaps a bad idea but adrenaline rushes through her dream-form, her body outside -- eyelids fluttering as her eyes move behind them her breathing hard, hidden by the ditch she'd tumbled into. Scrape! Scrape! Oh how her imagination runs wild with whatever it could be.
"Don't worry"! calls out that voice that always seems to whisper right into Tabitha's ear. It switches to the opposite side now, "It isn't realy, yet! But you have that to look forward to in the future, don't you? Each night you sleep, wondering..." Scrape. Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! It is coming towards her now, a rushing sound as Tabitha's real body has that surge of adrenaline filling it up even though she is asleep. Will it wake her? It might, but that dream place, that nightmare she is within now is more and more real as those noises come closer in a rushing towards her that never quite seems to show what is making it, "Do you want to meet him ... or me?" An offer made, that terrible sounding scrape and what might be causing it or the terrible sounding and deviously planning voice that whispers into an area.
Of course the answer is neither. Tabitha doesn't say that though. But it's apparant as she doesn't respond but instead puts her hands to her hair and her ears, tugging the hair and pressing her hands into her lobes. "Wake up, Tabi! Wake up!" Scrape scrape. She purses her lips together. "This is my dream! Mine." Knowing at least that is is a dream is the first step, they always say. But it is not actually her dream. It controls it, but she does try to try to take it from it. Him. She finally says, "You." Though she is not fully unaware that the -you- might actually be -it-.
Silence save for that terrible scraping sound and Tabitha's own words. They bounce around the concrete hallway that bland, terrible place full of shadows and darkness. The want for her to wake herself up does not seem to solve the problem at all right now, but the answer she finally says does seem to help. The scraping stops. The light in the distance closer now as it sends an elongated and terrible shadow towards her. A creature, tall, thick, something sharp showing down by the long arm that lumbers behind it, dragging it along has not stopped. It is there before her to let her mind play tricks on herself and what she might see if she looks but that tone of devious whispering does respond when she finally picks, "Then I will see you again in your dreams and I've seen you often from afar... don't close your blinds tonight? The view is a lot better, but I can see so much more when you're asleep..." The scenery does begin to shift as that desolate place starts to brighten with those colors, cartoony and transitional as reality warps and fades back into view when Tabitha's eyes begin to flutter open and she is off on Paine Avenue, covered in grass and stiff from being left there for a while after her fall. The fading swirl of those colors mingle with the desolate, concrete prison that she just left before all of it winks out of existence and she is once again in reality, or is she?
Is she? Tabitha starts to try to climb from the ditch, clothing a little dirty, body a little scraped up, back a little sore. She looks around, seeking out anything far more familiar as the reality shifts to a more cartoony world to a more realistic world. She stands, and looks back to the ditch, as if to ensure that she is actually standing and that her body is not still laying awkwardly off the side of the road.
There is a sluggishness of feel to Tabitha's body as she rises out of that ditch and looks back towards it to see that she is not there anymore. The woman very may well be in reality but sometimes these things are hard to distinguish. The lingering thoughts left with her of that dream stalker who has not made their presence obvious until now can only harp upon her mind with those words pressing there. The string that seemed to make her sleepy is slowly being pulled away and the veil that clouds her mind and her vision has lifted entirely. She can think freely, see freely, and the reality around her does seem to form something recognizable. The streets of Haven, no less dangerous than a dreamworld with threats all around. It does give Tabitha something to think about among the many things she already has on her mind, on her plate, but at least she has the ability to move again and to clarify her own thoughts to determine the best course of action.
(The Haven Town Hall is haunted by an unseen force, causing the building to be uninhabitable. The local government is offering a reward for anyone who can cleanse the building. The target and their allies must navigate the building, identify the spirit causing the disturbance, and find a way to banish it. This could involve a combination of combat, negotiation, research, and puzzle-solving.)
Joel is lounding on the bed in his dorm room, idly fidgetting with his phone. He seems vaguely discomfited with some text exchange that just ended, staring up at the ceiling with a bit of a sigh.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Stormclouds swirling, it is a cold and ominous night outside, a stark contrast to the cozy cabin where someone finds itself. As animals howl and go about their lives outside, the cabin is a sanctuary from both the humdrum of town and the dangers of the forest. Unless, of course, these irritations decide to make their way inside.
A car can be heard parking outside in a hurry, followed by footsteps.
Stormclouds swirling, it is a cold and ominous night outside, a stark contrast to the cozy cabin where Meridith finds itself. As animals howl and go about their lives outside, the cabin is a sanctuary from both the humdrum of town and the dangers of the forest. Unless, of course, these irritations decide to make their way inside.
A car can be heard parking outside in a hurry, followed by footsteps.
Meridith stretches out half naked on her bed, listening to the sounds of the forest outside of her home. She takes a slow breath, content. Until...the sound of a car screech, hasty footsteps. She rolls off the bed and snags her bag, never more than an armsreach away. Her sword is first grabbed, her bow is second, and she begins to don her breast plate. This little hunter is not expecting guests.
Meanwhile, Meridith's peaceful reprieve in her cozy cabin is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a hastily parked car and approaching footsteps. Preparing for unforeseen threats, she quickly arms herself with a sword, bow, and breastplate, signaling her readiness to confront whatever or whoever dares to intrude upon her sanctuary. The contrast between the serenity of her home and the sudden intrusion underscores the ever-present tension between safety and danger in her world. As she braces for the unknown, Meridith's actions reveal her as a determined and capable defender of her haven, willing to face unforeseen challenges head-on. The story threads together themes of vulnerability, resilience, and the fight against unseen enemies, both in the physical realm and within the depths of one's mind.
(Tabitha's odd encounter(SRSavannah):SRSavannah)
[Mon Feb 26 2024]
In the Shopping Area of Haven Hardware
The floor is wooden with rows of shelves and racks for tools, items, and apparel. The walls are painted a russet brown color, with forest green trim. To the south is an open area of wall that leads to the checkout area. In the corner of the western wall is a blue door with a white sign that reads BATHROOM. The lighting overhead is inset and bright.
It is afternoon, about 28F(-2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target has been singled out by a dream stalker who's invading their dreams. They cannot be woken, but their allies may be able to go into their dreams after them to help them fight off the invader and survive the nightmare.
)
As Tabitha went about her afternoon there was something nagging at the back of her mind. Sleep. She could feel the tug and the pull of tiredness stalking her like a phantom. That invisible string wanting to pull her into a slumber from how her eyes might feel more heavy and lidded to the way her movements might grow more sluggish. There was something behind that feeling and it had not made its presence known just yet. It was stalking her and it was intending to find her at her most vulnerable, perhaps within her dreams.
Tabitha has just walked out of the restroom at Haven Hardware, and has just started perusing some of the items there for sale, all very ordinary, and yet very questionable. For her part, she does look to be paler than normal, and tired, as if she'd not gotten near enough sleep the night before, or is succumbing to something far more recent. Sleep. She looks as if she needs it. When she turns to step outside into the daylight, she looks behind her, a feeling, a sixth sense. She is not unfamiliar with this feeling, that of being stalked. It is a daily occurence to her, so she may feel, whether true or not. She mutters, upward, as if to something unseen, "Go away..." Then, she continues on her way, up the street toward Paine and hanging a right to edge her tired self toward Ash. If she can make it.
That feeling of being stalked might be strong within Tabitha due to her experiences she has on a daily basis, and today was no exception. The tired feeling clinging to her and wearing on her body, her mind, continued to press and it kept feeling more oppressive as she turned down one street towards another, heading in some direction that the stalker might know or might not. Her words don't seem to cause whatever it is that is roping her into this situation to release the tie it has around her now, tugging her closer and closer to slumber. Those eyelids would feel heavier, her movements more sluggish, the drifting dreamlike state that is now her reality starts to fuse together so that familiar streets might have flashes of wavy distortion that shows something else beyond, glimpses of tunnels and cement walls.
The one thing that comes to Tabitha's mind, and spoken aloud, when she realizes that the scenery has shifted from road to walls and tunnels in the blink of a sleepy eye, "Looks like I took a wrong turn in Albuquerque." A memory of sitting in front of the television on Saturday mornings as a young child watching a billionth rerun of some Bugs Bunny cartoon. What she does not realize, at least in this very moment of just slipping into an unnatural sleep, is that her actual body has taken a tumble, a rather nasty prat fall onto the sidewalk somewhere off Paine Avenue.
Strings of slumber seem to wrap themselves around Tabitha's legs to send her plummeting into that dreamlike sleep that Havenites often experience. She falls onto the sidewalk somewhere off Paine Avenue, left there sleeping and able to be discovered which brings a whole different problem into play depending on who does the discovering. That comment she makes does bring back memories of Saturday morning cartoons, Bugs Bunny and all of that fun wrapped up into animated episodes that slip through her mind. It is nothing like what she experiences when she 'wakes' in the dream. She is wearing the same clothing, represented as herself within the confines of a cement box. She could even come to the conclusion that she was awake and not asleep, the Syndicate does things like this all the time, but this cement box has a door attached to it. She is cramped inside, having to crawl towards the door to even try to see if she can escape from it.
Those fonder memories of Saturday mornings with a bowl of cereal and a doting father watching and chuckling at old cartoons Tabitha doesn't understand soon go out the non-existent window when she finally comes to. Something dawning on her that she is trapped. Perhaps not the realization she's trapped inside her mind, but trapped nonetheless. The panic starts to set in, the fear of the unknown. She does indeed make her way to the faintly visible door, hands out in front of her as the light that was there when she was in the half state of slumber now gone and replaced with nothing but a dim one. "Hello?" she calls out, tone shaky, and uncertain.
A good first attempt by Tabitha to greet someone or anything and find a response only allows her to hear the echoes within that box as she approaches the door in the distance. It has a handle on it and it can be opened, but what it leads to in this dim place might be worse than the box, it will be hard to tell until she opens it. The light comes from somewhere, but it isn't obvious as to where. It is just enough to navigate without actually being able to see the details of things, that shadowed place that allows a person's mind to wander and insert what the imagination and frightened psyche of someone trapped might be able to conjure up to startled and scare.
Tabitha finds the handle on the door, but she does not shake or rattle it for the time being. She stands there, and she puts her ear to it, as if to listen, see if she can hear anything that would give an indication as to whom has her, or where she might actually be. She has no special hearing abilities, darned human ears, but she is silent, except for her loud heartbeat, to listen best to her ability.
There is a sound that comes from beyond that door as Tabitha places her ear to it to try and listen. It is the sound of metal scraping. A slow, sliding scrape as if something is being pulled in off-beat strides. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. It is definitely not a comforting sound, but within that confines of the cement box she has arrived there is little else to find comfort. The shadows around her seem to slowly be coming closer, following that heartbeat of her heart now, pulsing with each thump of it to close in around her as if the room itself might be getting smaller, it could just be a trick on the eyes but the feeling is beginning to become more and more oppressive.
Tabitha fidgets around her tote to find her flashlight, and flicks that device on, or at least she tries, whether the light works? But should it, it is used to dispel at least some of the creeping shadows. She is not Alice, here and she has no drink to drink or cake to eat. Between a rock and a hardplace, she does what any witch would do. She begins to pray, calling to her Goddesses, flashlight shaking in her hand. She also may not be Dorothy, and have a pair of ruby slippers, but some of that chant that comes out in panicked whispers is: Home.
A flashlight does work to dispel some of those shadows, but it seems like the room is actually getting smaller, or was it? It is hard to remember in this place with Tabitha's thoughts becoming something muddled and foggy when it comes to the last however long she has been here. How did she even get here in this place? Scraaaaaape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. Scrape. The praying and the calling to her Goddesses would work if she was conscious for her body to actually be releported home like those ruby slippers clicking just might. There is no place like it. There really is no place like it, and this is not home, but she is stuck here right now in this place with her body off to the side in a ditch along the sidewalk of Paine Avenue. The ritual seems to fail her in her time of need, or her Goddesses, or just the fact she is not awake right now to make it happen. Instead that flashlight can help her see that the box is closing in around her and the door might be her only escape, but into what? Scraaaape. Scrape. Scraaaape. Scrape. The silence is broken every so often by that terrible sound and now, another, a faint whisper against her ear in a tickle of what could only be felt as breath, "I've been watching you..."
Tabitha twists her flashlight toward the side where the breathy words tickle her ear. "Who is there?" But then all she sees are shadows and a closing in room of cement ready to crush her if she cannot escape. Scrape. Escape. Can people die for real in their dreams? Possibly. But also, she is still not fully aware that this is a dream. Her heart beats heavy in her chest. Think, think, think. Another flashback to childhood. Which is worse for her? She flings the door open and seeks to rush out, into whatever other danger awaits. Perhaps whatever lies on the other side will help her realize she is dreaming? Perhaps not. But if her thoughts and memories have any effect ...
Rushing outside of that cement box gives Tabitha more freedom to move. This hallway is wide enough to fit two of her with ceilings that seem to stretch to infinity, but infinity is darkness above. The light is now just flashlight and another source, far away in the distance. Scape. Scraaaape. Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaape. The thing whatever it is must be moving faster now and the light that comes from that movement can be seen and heard, represented with that audio and visual that Tabitha is now confronted with, but it always seems to just be on the horizon now and this hallway continues on for as far as the eye can see. It is not normal, tricks on the senses with depth perception all sorts of screwed up, "Just someone who admires you, from far, but I wanted to see you up close... I had to see you up close..."
murmurs, "This can't be real..." Tabitha says to herself, and whatever entity is there with her. "This isn't real." She calls upward to the infinity of darkness, "This isn't real!" She'd pinch herself, but such matters mean nothing in this world she's been thrust into. She spins in a circle, seeking with that faux hope of light. "Show yourself!" she says, loudly. Perhaps a bad idea but adrenaline rushes through her dream-form, her body outside -- eyelids fluttering as her eyes move behind them her breathing hard, hidden by the ditch she'd tumbled into. Scrape! Scrape! Oh how her imagination runs wild with whatever it could be.
"Don't worry"! calls out that voice that always seems to whisper right into Tabitha's ear. It switches to the opposite side now, "It isn't realy, yet! But you have that to look forward to in the future, don't you? Each night you sleep, wondering..." Scrape. Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! It is coming towards her now, a rushing sound as Tabitha's real body has that surge of adrenaline filling it up even though she is asleep. Will it wake her? It might, but that dream place, that nightmare she is within now is more and more real as those noises come closer in a rushing towards her that never quite seems to show what is making it, "Do you want to meet him ... or me?" An offer made, that terrible sounding scrape and what might be causing it or the terrible sounding and deviously planning voice that whispers into an area.
Of course the answer is neither. Tabitha doesn't say that though. But it's apparant as she doesn't respond but instead puts her hands to her hair and her ears, tugging the hair and pressing her hands into her lobes. "Wake up, Tabi! Wake up!" Scrape scrape. She purses her lips together. "This is my dream! Mine." Knowing at least that is is a dream is the first step, they always say. But it is not actually her dream. It controls it, but she does try to try to take it from it. Him. She finally says, "You." Though she is not fully unaware that the -you- might actually be -it-.
Silence save for that terrible scraping sound and Tabitha's own words. They bounce around the concrete hallway that bland, terrible place full of shadows and darkness. The want for her to wake herself up does not seem to solve the problem at all right now, but the answer she finally says does seem to help. The scraping stops. The light in the distance closer now as it sends an elongated and terrible shadow towards her. A creature, tall, thick, something sharp showing down by the long arm that lumbers behind it, dragging it along has not stopped. It is there before her to let her mind play tricks on herself and what she might see if she looks but that tone of devious whispering does respond when she finally picks, "Then I will see you again in your dreams and I've seen you often from afar... don't close your blinds tonight? The view is a lot better, but I can see so much more when you're asleep..." The scenery does begin to shift as that desolate place starts to brighten with those colors, cartoony and transitional as reality warps and fades back into view when Tabitha's eyes begin to flutter open and she is off on Paine Avenue, covered in grass and stiff from being left there for a while after her fall. The fading swirl of those colors mingle with the desolate, concrete prison that she just left before all of it winks out of existence and she is once again in reality, or is she?
Is she? Tabitha starts to try to climb from the ditch, clothing a little dirty, body a little scraped up, back a little sore. She looks around, seeking out anything far more familiar as the reality shifts to a more cartoony world to a more realistic world. She stands, and looks back to the ditch, as if to ensure that she is actually standing and that her body is not still laying awkwardly off the side of the road.
There is a sluggishness of feel to Tabitha's body as she rises out of that ditch and looks back towards it to see that she is not there anymore. The woman very may well be in reality but sometimes these things are hard to distinguish. The lingering thoughts left with her of that dream stalker who has not made their presence obvious until now can only harp upon her mind with those words pressing there. The string that seemed to make her sleepy is slowly being pulled away and the veil that clouds her mind and her vision has lifted entirely. She can think freely, see freely, and the reality around her does seem to form something recognizable. The streets of Haven, no less dangerous than a dreamworld with threats all around. It does give Tabitha something to think about among the many things she already has on her mind, on her plate, but at least she has the ability to move again and to clarify her own thoughts to determine the best course of action.
(The Haven Town Hall is haunted by an unseen force, causing the building to be uninhabitable. The local government is offering a reward for anyone who can cleanse the building. The target and their allies must navigate the building, identify the spirit causing the disturbance, and find a way to banish it. This could involve a combination of combat, negotiation, research, and puzzle-solving.)
Joel is lounding on the bed in his dorm room, idly fidgetting with his phone. He seems vaguely discomfited with some text exchange that just ended, staring up at the ceiling with a bit of a sigh.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Stormclouds swirling, it is a cold and ominous night outside, a stark contrast to the cozy cabin where someone finds itself. As animals howl and go about their lives outside, the cabin is a sanctuary from both the humdrum of town and the dangers of the forest. Unless, of course, these irritations decide to make their way inside.
A car can be heard parking outside in a hurry, followed by footsteps.
Stormclouds swirling, it is a cold and ominous night outside, a stark contrast to the cozy cabin where Meridith finds itself. As animals howl and go about their lives outside, the cabin is a sanctuary from both the humdrum of town and the dangers of the forest. Unless, of course, these irritations decide to make their way inside.
A car can be heard parking outside in a hurry, followed by footsteps.
Meridith stretches out half naked on her bed, listening to the sounds of the forest outside of her home. She takes a slow breath, content. Until...the sound of a car screech, hasty footsteps. She rolls off the bed and snags her bag, never more than an armsreach away. Her sword is first grabbed, her bow is second, and she begins to don her breast plate. This little hunter is not expecting guests.