Encounterlogs
Tomass Odd Encounter Sr Yasmin 240316
The Hometown Diner witnesses an odd encounter as Tomas, a regular and self-styled prince of Haven, overhears a conversation between two college students, Tyler and Liz, the latter suffering from a nasty hangover. Tyler offers Liz a peculiar cure - a flask of blood, igniting Tomas's curiosity and suspicion. Despite the early hour, Tomas engages with the pair, initially under the pretense of joining in on the complaint about early mornings and subsequently due to his concern over the dealing of blood in his favorite diner. The situation escalates as Tomas confronts Tyler about his subtlety, or lack thereof, in handling the blood, hinting at the possibility of dealing with illegal substances, which in their world refers to vampire blood or "vee."
The confrontation between Tomas and Tyler intensifies as Liz, after consuming the blood, discovers her own vampire-like symptoms, including sharp canines and a sensitivity to her own blood. This discovery leads to chaos and confusion, particularly for Liz, who is unaware of her transformation. Tomas, putting together the pieces, accuses Tyler of being a dealer, thereby endangering Liz by turning her into a newly made vampire without guidance. Despite the accusation and ensuing threat by Tomas to expose the duo to sunlight, Tyler, asserting control over Liz and dismissing her protests, decides to leave the diner with her in tow, evading further confrontation with Tomas. The event concludes with the diners left in shock and Tomas, once again, left to ponder the peculiarities of supernatural life intertwined with the mundanity of his morning routine.
(Tomas's odd encounter(SRYasmin):SRYasmin)
[Fri Mar 15 2024]
In The Hometown Diner's Dining Room
This room is both cozy and fairly modern in style, with oak panelling along the bottom half of the walls, while the top has been painted a rich, bright shade of white. Open windows on the eastern wall look out over the diner's pergola and firepit, offering a gorgeous view past that of the horizon to diners. The tables are spread out around the room so that the waitstaff can easily make their way to all diners, and the smell of home cooking fills the air at all hours of the day.
It is night, about 32F(0C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing outside. There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target and their allies encounter a newly made vampire who hasn't been taught by their maker and doesn't know what they are.
)
The sun is yet to rise, the moonlight of the waxing crescent dim where it filters through the windows of the establishment, glinting off the snow outside. The quiet chatter of sparse, early-rising patrons fills the space over the clinking and clanking of forks and knives against plates. It's a perfectly ordinary morning, by all means.
In the booth next to Tomas's, if he's deigned to pay any notice, there's a boy - college aged, looks like - who's been idly looking around while he waits for his companion to join him. It takes a while, but the solemnity of the diner is broken momentarily by the sudden slamming of the door, irritable footsteps approaching before a woman slumps into the seat opposite him, rubbing tiredly at her temples.
"Ugh. You're here already, at least. What the fuck was in that shit last night, Tyler? I told you I wanted to go light, and I've got the /worst/ headache." she's glowering across the table, words kept to a hissing whisper, and it's only Tomas's proximity that likely lets him overhear. The next words are louder, "Coffee, please."
A slow, pleased smile meanders across Tomas's features. He'd picked his seat well, and through sheer luck, as well - hangover-laden co-eds? The woman's contempt for the world spiced the air as the sweetest perfume; eau de calvaire. "I'll jump on that, too," he says, pitching his voice loud and clear - too loudly for the early hour, really, but whether the servers could hear him well was less of a concern to him than stirring up the grouchy woman. Leaning out of the side of his booth, he carries on, "And could I get a BLT with that? With the fresh tomatoes, you always got those lovely fuckin' tomatoes. Kindly appreciated." He sniffs loudly, then leans back into his seat, lifting an arm to rest his elbow along the seat backing. He barely lets two beats of silence pass before he turns his head to peer over his shoulder at the pair of twenty-somethings and flash them a glaring bright smile. "Early risers, huh? Yeah, well, make the best of it before the crowd rolls in. We got enough old folks in Haven that our rush our is about seven in the morning."
Tyler is one of those insufferable assholes with a smug, made-for-punching face. Which means he'd probably get along well with Tomas. "Relaaaax, Liz, you'll be thanking me later," he drawls back to the girl, seeming much too self-satisfied at her state even as waves of suffering roll off her hungover self, intensified further as Tomas begins to speak - and then simply refuses to shut up.
"Thanks, bro." Tyler says the same time as Liz lets out another groan, attempting to clamp her hands upon her ears. She's really not having a good time. He continues talking over her anyway. "We'll be outta here before then, just making sure Liz is going well and all that. You know how these parties go." A wink over at Tomas, and then he's pulling something out of his pocket, out of view of the Inigo. "Forget about the coffee shit - drink this, hey? Hangover cure. It's like magic."
Tomas may not be able to see whatever's being handed over, but the iron smell of blood reaches his nose all the same. With the peer over his shoulder, he's able to catch a glimpse of the two in the booth next to his - the girl, in particular, seems a little scratched up, presumably from the night prior, her neck littered with reddened, scabbed over dots as though she's suffered a particularly vicious mosquito attack and then been scratching at them far too much.
A single, stately eyebrow lifts up over the rim of Tomas's glasses as the flask - or whatever it was - of blood comes out, staining the air with its coppery tang. He twists briefly to eyeball the servers - looks like they were putting on a fresh pot, so he had a second, at least - then grunts over to the guy... Taylor, Tanner, whatever: "Hey. Appreciate it if you kept your shit a /bit/ more fuckin' subtle. Take it to the fuckin' bathrooms or somethin', Christ." He lets out a little sigh of frustration, though he can't quite know /exactly/ what kind of blood was being dealt here. Was this a Vee slinger? A mage trafficking ritual blood? Either way... "Not in my favourite diner, please."
There's a scoff, and the guy - TYLER - now finally glances away from his companion and back at Tomas, an unpleasant sneer crossing his face. "What's wrong with trying to make her feel better? Mind your own business, dude." Defensive, much? To his defense, the blood /does/ seem to be in an opaque cup with a straw sticking out of it, the contents mostly hidden from view unless someone was trying to snoop, or had an exceptional sense of smell - so that's two for two there.
"I'm not going to the bathroom for a /drink/," the girl's just as easily affronted, headache forgotten for the time being so she can gang up on Tomas. "It's not like I'm doing drugs or something, Jesus..." A sniff, and she takes a sip from her cup, and then proceeds to slurp down the entirety of it in the span of 0.3 seconds. "Whew, that's some good shit, most of your other stuff tastes like crap," she lets her expert opinion be known to Tyler, reaching up to swipe at the corner of her mouth - and then immediately lets out a sudden yelp of pain when her own sharp canines scratch at her hand. "Ow!"
There may well be a collective groan of recognition and dismay as the large Inigo hauls himself up from his booth with a scowl. Blood in a cup aside, he was still Tomas, Prince of Haven - self-styled or not. "Mind your fuckin' manners," he swears down at the male vampire, then reaches down to slap the mostly-empty cup from Liz's hand. "I said I don't want you dealin' fuckin' vee in the diner, you greasy little shit. Let's accelerate your plans a little and have you fuck off out of here /now/, or I'll bury you in the sand to enjoy a nice tan, you greasy -" He cuts off, realising he's just said that one. "Fuck." That one could've been an insult aimed at the presumed vampire, or just the Inigo filling the silence.
It's a good thing the patronage of the diner seems lacking - it's not /quite/ rush hour yet, and most of the people still here seem content with keeping their heads down and peeking the occasional glances over where the commotion is happening. Everyone local knows not to get between Tomas and whoever he's trying to tussle with, so Tyler must not be local, at least. The point is proven when he rises to his feet immediately; he's not quite as tall as Tomas, but he does puff up his chest as much as he's able, and there's the baring of sharp teeth, reflexive and poorly-trained, at the Inigo. "Mind. Your. Own. Fucking. Business." he growls back.
Meanwhile, there's Liz who's just gotten her cup of blood slapped out of her hand, and she's staring down at her empty hands, dark blood beading where she'd accidentally pricked herself, for a long moment before she reaches up to poke at her teeth. A poor choice, when it results in more blood dripping down her thumb. Iron colors the air. Her nose curls. "Hey, guys," she calls out, a little hesitantly at the two who seem like there's about to be a fistfight starting any second now; she's lisping a little while trying to talk through her elongated canines without hurting herself, as though she can't quite figure out how to make them recede just yet, and there's definite panic rising with the next words:
"What the FUCK is going on?!"
"Your boyfriend's a fuckin' dealer," Tomas says, side-eying Liz. He'd much rather be focusing on Tyler before he takes the first swing, but the woman's exploration of her sharpened canines did raise some questions. It wasn't as if the Inigo knew the specifics of vampire physiology very well, but they shouldn't be bleeding, either - not without reactivating. Could they even do that without realising it? He didn't know. Regardless, he pushes on: "Vee. Hype. Juice. You know what I'm talkin' about. Looks like blood, tastes like blood." He turns to Tyler, lowering his voice as he moves from accusations of drug-dealing to threats of physical harm. "I know you fucks don't feel much pain, but if you don't keep your eyes on the fuckin' floor and walk yourselves out of my town, the last thing you're goin' to see is the sunrise." Not a threat he could easily back up, with Sanctuary - but vampires were resilient enough he could probably get away with a lot before the spell stopped him.
"I'm not a fucking dealer-" Tyler says at the same time Liz chimes up with, "He's not my boyfriend," so clearly they've both got their priorities in order. The girl pauses to take in Tomas's threat, then presses on with, "And I already told you I'm not going with you on your stupid road trip or whatever, it was fun partying but I have school."
"Liz, shut the fuck up." the guy says, not taking his eyes off Tomas. Rude. There's a gasp in answer, and one from a nearby bystander too, who's been listening in much too closely; they're invested. "I'm sick of listening to your stubborn shit, you're coming with me after I went through all this fucking trouble for you," he reaches out to grab the girl's arm in a vice grip, pulling her close despite her protests, and then, eyes still on Tomas, starts to back his way out of the diner at the same time the server finally returns with coffee - alas. "We're leaving," the words are meant both for Tomas as well as Liz, who's attempting and failing to pull free of his grasp. And then he turns and makes his way out of the diner with plenty of time to spare before the sun rises and Tomas can make true on his threats.
The confrontation between Tomas and Tyler intensifies as Liz, after consuming the blood, discovers her own vampire-like symptoms, including sharp canines and a sensitivity to her own blood. This discovery leads to chaos and confusion, particularly for Liz, who is unaware of her transformation. Tomas, putting together the pieces, accuses Tyler of being a dealer, thereby endangering Liz by turning her into a newly made vampire without guidance. Despite the accusation and ensuing threat by Tomas to expose the duo to sunlight, Tyler, asserting control over Liz and dismissing her protests, decides to leave the diner with her in tow, evading further confrontation with Tomas. The event concludes with the diners left in shock and Tomas, once again, left to ponder the peculiarities of supernatural life intertwined with the mundanity of his morning routine.
(Tomas's odd encounter(SRYasmin):SRYasmin)
[Fri Mar 15 2024]
In The Hometown Diner's Dining Room
This room is both cozy and fairly modern in style, with oak panelling along the bottom half of the walls, while the top has been painted a rich, bright shade of white. Open windows on the eastern wall look out over the diner's pergola and firepit, offering a gorgeous view past that of the horizon to diners. The tables are spread out around the room so that the waitstaff can easily make their way to all diners, and the smell of home cooking fills the air at all hours of the day.
It is night, about 32F(0C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing outside. There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target and their allies encounter a newly made vampire who hasn't been taught by their maker and doesn't know what they are.
)
The sun is yet to rise, the moonlight of the waxing crescent dim where it filters through the windows of the establishment, glinting off the snow outside. The quiet chatter of sparse, early-rising patrons fills the space over the clinking and clanking of forks and knives against plates. It's a perfectly ordinary morning, by all means.
In the booth next to Tomas's, if he's deigned to pay any notice, there's a boy - college aged, looks like - who's been idly looking around while he waits for his companion to join him. It takes a while, but the solemnity of the diner is broken momentarily by the sudden slamming of the door, irritable footsteps approaching before a woman slumps into the seat opposite him, rubbing tiredly at her temples.
"Ugh. You're here already, at least. What the fuck was in that shit last night, Tyler? I told you I wanted to go light, and I've got the /worst/ headache." she's glowering across the table, words kept to a hissing whisper, and it's only Tomas's proximity that likely lets him overhear. The next words are louder, "Coffee, please."
A slow, pleased smile meanders across Tomas's features. He'd picked his seat well, and through sheer luck, as well - hangover-laden co-eds? The woman's contempt for the world spiced the air as the sweetest perfume; eau de calvaire. "I'll jump on that, too," he says, pitching his voice loud and clear - too loudly for the early hour, really, but whether the servers could hear him well was less of a concern to him than stirring up the grouchy woman. Leaning out of the side of his booth, he carries on, "And could I get a BLT with that? With the fresh tomatoes, you always got those lovely fuckin' tomatoes. Kindly appreciated." He sniffs loudly, then leans back into his seat, lifting an arm to rest his elbow along the seat backing. He barely lets two beats of silence pass before he turns his head to peer over his shoulder at the pair of twenty-somethings and flash them a glaring bright smile. "Early risers, huh? Yeah, well, make the best of it before the crowd rolls in. We got enough old folks in Haven that our rush our is about seven in the morning."
Tyler is one of those insufferable assholes with a smug, made-for-punching face. Which means he'd probably get along well with Tomas. "Relaaaax, Liz, you'll be thanking me later," he drawls back to the girl, seeming much too self-satisfied at her state even as waves of suffering roll off her hungover self, intensified further as Tomas begins to speak - and then simply refuses to shut up.
"Thanks, bro." Tyler says the same time as Liz lets out another groan, attempting to clamp her hands upon her ears. She's really not having a good time. He continues talking over her anyway. "We'll be outta here before then, just making sure Liz is going well and all that. You know how these parties go." A wink over at Tomas, and then he's pulling something out of his pocket, out of view of the Inigo. "Forget about the coffee shit - drink this, hey? Hangover cure. It's like magic."
Tomas may not be able to see whatever's being handed over, but the iron smell of blood reaches his nose all the same. With the peer over his shoulder, he's able to catch a glimpse of the two in the booth next to his - the girl, in particular, seems a little scratched up, presumably from the night prior, her neck littered with reddened, scabbed over dots as though she's suffered a particularly vicious mosquito attack and then been scratching at them far too much.
A single, stately eyebrow lifts up over the rim of Tomas's glasses as the flask - or whatever it was - of blood comes out, staining the air with its coppery tang. He twists briefly to eyeball the servers - looks like they were putting on a fresh pot, so he had a second, at least - then grunts over to the guy... Taylor, Tanner, whatever: "Hey. Appreciate it if you kept your shit a /bit/ more fuckin' subtle. Take it to the fuckin' bathrooms or somethin', Christ." He lets out a little sigh of frustration, though he can't quite know /exactly/ what kind of blood was being dealt here. Was this a Vee slinger? A mage trafficking ritual blood? Either way... "Not in my favourite diner, please."
There's a scoff, and the guy - TYLER - now finally glances away from his companion and back at Tomas, an unpleasant sneer crossing his face. "What's wrong with trying to make her feel better? Mind your own business, dude." Defensive, much? To his defense, the blood /does/ seem to be in an opaque cup with a straw sticking out of it, the contents mostly hidden from view unless someone was trying to snoop, or had an exceptional sense of smell - so that's two for two there.
"I'm not going to the bathroom for a /drink/," the girl's just as easily affronted, headache forgotten for the time being so she can gang up on Tomas. "It's not like I'm doing drugs or something, Jesus..." A sniff, and she takes a sip from her cup, and then proceeds to slurp down the entirety of it in the span of 0.3 seconds. "Whew, that's some good shit, most of your other stuff tastes like crap," she lets her expert opinion be known to Tyler, reaching up to swipe at the corner of her mouth - and then immediately lets out a sudden yelp of pain when her own sharp canines scratch at her hand. "Ow!"
There may well be a collective groan of recognition and dismay as the large Inigo hauls himself up from his booth with a scowl. Blood in a cup aside, he was still Tomas, Prince of Haven - self-styled or not. "Mind your fuckin' manners," he swears down at the male vampire, then reaches down to slap the mostly-empty cup from Liz's hand. "I said I don't want you dealin' fuckin' vee in the diner, you greasy little shit. Let's accelerate your plans a little and have you fuck off out of here /now/, or I'll bury you in the sand to enjoy a nice tan, you greasy -" He cuts off, realising he's just said that one. "Fuck." That one could've been an insult aimed at the presumed vampire, or just the Inigo filling the silence.
It's a good thing the patronage of the diner seems lacking - it's not /quite/ rush hour yet, and most of the people still here seem content with keeping their heads down and peeking the occasional glances over where the commotion is happening. Everyone local knows not to get between Tomas and whoever he's trying to tussle with, so Tyler must not be local, at least. The point is proven when he rises to his feet immediately; he's not quite as tall as Tomas, but he does puff up his chest as much as he's able, and there's the baring of sharp teeth, reflexive and poorly-trained, at the Inigo. "Mind. Your. Own. Fucking. Business." he growls back.
Meanwhile, there's Liz who's just gotten her cup of blood slapped out of her hand, and she's staring down at her empty hands, dark blood beading where she'd accidentally pricked herself, for a long moment before she reaches up to poke at her teeth. A poor choice, when it results in more blood dripping down her thumb. Iron colors the air. Her nose curls. "Hey, guys," she calls out, a little hesitantly at the two who seem like there's about to be a fistfight starting any second now; she's lisping a little while trying to talk through her elongated canines without hurting herself, as though she can't quite figure out how to make them recede just yet, and there's definite panic rising with the next words:
"What the FUCK is going on?!"
"Your boyfriend's a fuckin' dealer," Tomas says, side-eying Liz. He'd much rather be focusing on Tyler before he takes the first swing, but the woman's exploration of her sharpened canines did raise some questions. It wasn't as if the Inigo knew the specifics of vampire physiology very well, but they shouldn't be bleeding, either - not without reactivating. Could they even do that without realising it? He didn't know. Regardless, he pushes on: "Vee. Hype. Juice. You know what I'm talkin' about. Looks like blood, tastes like blood." He turns to Tyler, lowering his voice as he moves from accusations of drug-dealing to threats of physical harm. "I know you fucks don't feel much pain, but if you don't keep your eyes on the fuckin' floor and walk yourselves out of my town, the last thing you're goin' to see is the sunrise." Not a threat he could easily back up, with Sanctuary - but vampires were resilient enough he could probably get away with a lot before the spell stopped him.
"I'm not a fucking dealer-" Tyler says at the same time Liz chimes up with, "He's not my boyfriend," so clearly they've both got their priorities in order. The girl pauses to take in Tomas's threat, then presses on with, "And I already told you I'm not going with you on your stupid road trip or whatever, it was fun partying but I have school."
"Liz, shut the fuck up." the guy says, not taking his eyes off Tomas. Rude. There's a gasp in answer, and one from a nearby bystander too, who's been listening in much too closely; they're invested. "I'm sick of listening to your stubborn shit, you're coming with me after I went through all this fucking trouble for you," he reaches out to grab the girl's arm in a vice grip, pulling her close despite her protests, and then, eyes still on Tomas, starts to back his way out of the diner at the same time the server finally returns with coffee - alas. "We're leaving," the words are meant both for Tomas as well as Liz, who's attempting and failing to pull free of his grasp. And then he turns and makes his way out of the diner with plenty of time to spare before the sun rises and Tomas can make true on his threats.