Encounterlogs
Williams Odd Encounter Sr Kah 241124
In the midst of an ordinary afternoon, William is abruptly woken by the sound of chaos emanating from the street below. The scene is starkly set against the backdrop of a cozy kitchen-living space, with mahogany tones and soft lighting giving no hint of the drama unfolding outside. A figure, gripped by terror and confusion, brandishes a piece of broken wood, their panic tangible in the cool air. William observes from a distance, his curiosity piqued by the familiar yet unsettling spectacle of someone wrestling with a reality they cannot comprehend. The figure's desperate cries, "No! Stay back! I know what you are!" reveal their awareness of the supernatural, a secret fiercely guarded in the community. William, no stranger to the fear of the unknown, decides to intervene, donning winter attire despite his indifference to the cold - a personal struggle with his own supernatural identity mirrored in the frantic individual's plight.
As William approaches, the situation escalates - the frightened figure's actions driven by unbridled fear, their attempts to ward him off intensifying. Neighbors watch, frozen by uncertainty, as the drama unfolds under the long shadows of the late afternoon sun. The panicked individual eventually succumbs to exhaustion, their cries giving way to sobs, a poignant moment of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. Just then, Emmelline appears, her arrival opportunistic or perhaps destined, as she assesses the situation with a practical concern. Together, she and William face the task of aiding the distressed figure, a man incapacitated by fear and confusion, now lying helpless on the ground. Their endeavor marks a moment of human connection and understanding, a reminder of the challenges faced by those touched by the supernatural, and the fragile line between fear and acceptance in a world where secrets loom in the shadows.
(William's odd encounter(SRKah):SRKah)
[Sat Nov 23 2024]
In a combination of kitchen and living room
A space dominated by the presence of mahogany woods, the floor covered in planks of different tones, from lighter to darker colors of the same kind of wood not seeming to follow any kind of pattern of color or placement regarding their shape. The same kind of planks covering the walls, vertically oriented, and ending up in a pretty contrasting pastel color, between white and brown, but leaning far more to the previous, with a long spread of small circular lights that provide the room some dim lighting to lean into the whole cozy atmosphere.
The eastern side of the room displays two tall inside lamps with a soft brown colored fabric to dim out the light coming from them. A dark wood table of low height positioned relatively towards the center, surrounded from north, east and south by long white leather sofas, able to fit between two or three people each.
As one moves towards the western side though the room seemlessly transitions into a wall-less kitchen, starting with an isle topped with a black polished quartz countertop that works both as dining table and cooking space. Against the wall, a big counter, topped with the same stone slab as the isle, and presenting different utilities like a sink, a fridge, a diswasher and several cabinets and drawers to store both food and cutlery.
It is afternoon, about 48F(8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the street as you awaken abruptly to the sound of frantic shouting and the unmistakable crash of something being knocked over. The light filters through your window, flooding the room with an almost surreal brightness. The noises from outside are impossible to ignore. When William eventually rises, they'll find the warmth of the afternoon sun contrasting sharply with the chaos that greets them. Checking for the source of the commotion out the window perhaps, they'll see a sight both strange and maybe familiar. In the street, a figure stands, illuminated by the daylight. Their eyes are wide with terror, and they clutch a broken piece of wood, brandishing it like a weapon. Their voice is shrill with panic, and you catch fragmented words between the cries: "No! Stay back! I know what you are!"
As The figure swings the wood wildly, their movements are erratic and desperate. The few neighbors who have ventured out keep their distance, unsure of how to intervene. The tension in the air is palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as the person's fear teeters on the edge of violence. You move closer, each step deliberate and slow, trying to project calm. The person's eyes dart towards everywhere from your vantage point, their grip tightening on the makeshift weapon. Sweat glistens on their brow, and their breathing is ragged, chest heaving with each frantic breath. The scene is chaoticshadows flickering, voices murmuring in the background, and the ever-present sense that one wrong move could escalate things beyond control. The sunlight casts long shadows across the street, highlighting the raw, unfiltered fear in the figures eyes.
Beginning to approach, the person's gaze locks onto something. For a moment, everything seems to hang in the balance, the afternoon air filled with the scent of fear and the quiet hum of distant murmurs from onlookers, watching with bated breath. The figure's eyes are filled with an overwhelming mix of emotions, at whatever's caused them to suddenly have an episode in the middle of the road! They scream out more incoherent words, but there's nobody there to talk to. The figure's grip on the wood loosens slightly, their shoulders slumping in exhaustion from holding it so rigidly out before them, like they're desperate for their life. Whether through curtains or blinds, William will know one thing for certain. That person is in a bad way, and he probably knows why. It wouldn't be that long ago that he himself was beginning to be rudely awakened to the very real dangers and threats all around him.
William watches the scene for a couple seconds through the windows, maybe a little confused, maybe just sluggish from having just woken up. He takes his time to rise an arm and stretch his back, having it crack nicely, and with a look around the apartment, he slowly fishes for his clothes around the place, the ones that he's not already wearing, that is, putting on some winter clothes like a beanie and a coat before even stepping closer to the door.
He had been doing that lately. The cold really didn't bother him, but lately he had been an extra tad paranoid in comparison to before. People shouldn't know how good he withstood the cold. It would lead them to believe he is something he indeed is, and that he's struggling to still come to terms withs.
But soon enough he opens the door, and, after walking the long hallway, he steps foot into the street, giving a glance around before with a sigh heading towards where the man was creating the commotion, deciding to find out what was it all about
The man in winter clothes approaches cautiously, his breath visible in the cold afternoon air. As William steps closer, the crazed figure's terror intensifies. Their eyes dart around wildly, like a cornered animal searching for a way out. The grip on the broken piece of wood is so tight that their knuckles are bone white, the jagged end trembling from the force of their fear. "Stay back!" they shriek, the words tearing from their throat in a raw, desperate cry. They swing the wood in a wide, erratic arc, trying to create a barrier of space between themselves and the approaching man. Each swing is wild and uncontrolled, a manifestation of their inner turmoil and panic. The man's attempt at a calm approach seems to only heighten the figure's distress. They backpedal clumsily, nearly tripping over their own feet in their frantic effort to maintain distance. Sweat mixes with tears on their face, their expression a mask of pure, unadulterated terror. "I know what you are!" they scream again, their voice cracking. "You're not going to take me!"
As Their movements become even more frantic, their eyes wide and wild as they look for any sign of safety or escape. The neighbors watching from a distance seem frozen, unsure whether to intervene or keep their distance. The sunlight casts long, stark shadows across the scene, amplifying the sense of surreal danger. The figure's breathing is harsh and irregular, their chest heaving with the effort to draw air. The man continues to speak softly, trying to reassure them, but their words are drowned out by the hammering of the figure's own heartbeat in their ears. The makeshift weapon wavers in their grasp, the wood slick with sweat.
Every step the man takes seems to bring the figure closer to the brink. They scream again, a wordless sound of pure fear, and the piece of wood slips from their grip, clattering to the ground. For a moment, they stand there, paralyzed by indecision, before they collapse to their knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Their body shakes with the force of their emotions, and the tension in the air is almost tangible. The immediate threat of violence has passed, but the underlying fear and confusion still linger like a dark cloud. The man kneels beside the figure, speaking in low, soothing tones, trying to offer comfort. The figure's sobs gradually subside, replaced by deep, shuddering breaths. The neighbors start to disperse, the danger seemingly over, but the echoes of the panic remain, a stark reminder of how quickly fear can escalate. A good opportunity for William to move this outside of the public eye.
And just as luck would have it, this is the time Emmelline will make an appearance, from down the road or perhaps a nearby apartment. The timing is either serendipitous or suspicious, but at least the woman in the middle of the street isn't scraming at the top of her lungs anymore.
Emmelline is just sort of strolling down the street. As one does, dressed in her winter coat to keep the cold from getting right through her. She isn't paying much attention, till she comes upon the scene. "Bill mate?," she says, as she goes over to William's side, "What goes on here?," she asks, looking to the man for some clarification. "Everything all right?"
William seems to frown for a second and whatever the man is saying, but only briefly, and not too noticeably, maybe he just finds the disruption annoying, or the whole situation kind of a bother, but he doesn't really seem as affected by the state of the man as he probably would have felt a month or so ago, there seems to be a different air to him, though maybe that is due to having woken up just a couple minutes ago
But William seems to snap out of whatever he's thinking whenever Emmelline finally arrives and speaks, he, no longer being alone, turns to face her for a moment, kind of distracted. He takes a moment to speak, as if gathering his words, or maybe just slow on the uptake, he himself also wearing heavy winter clothing "Oh- No idea, I have just woken up and- Well, saw that through the window... Still figuring out what is it all about"
As Emmelline comes over, she'll find William standing next to a figure passed out in the road. Dressed in normal clothing, they seem like any other citizen except for the broken, sharp piece of wood they'd been flailing about as they screamed at ... nobody. The neighbors have all gone now, nothing more intersting left to see really but it leaves these two know with the unexpected burden of figuring out what to do with this slumped out figure.
"All right then," Emmelline says, as she looks dubiously at the figure that is slumped out in the middle of the street. "Let's see if we can't figure out what goes on here," she says as she takes the figure's pulse, and tries to deduce if there are injuries.
Checking the person slumped on the ground, it's a guy. Black hair, brown eyes. No injuries of immediate note, just a sense of exhaustion that's forced this man to pass out. Further information about them or what's happened in full will have to come from William. Too much longer though and more people might poke their heads out to come looking. It's not an everyday sight for two people to be casually discussing what to do over the passed out body of someone else.
As William approaches, the situation escalates - the frightened figure's actions driven by unbridled fear, their attempts to ward him off intensifying. Neighbors watch, frozen by uncertainty, as the drama unfolds under the long shadows of the late afternoon sun. The panicked individual eventually succumbs to exhaustion, their cries giving way to sobs, a poignant moment of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. Just then, Emmelline appears, her arrival opportunistic or perhaps destined, as she assesses the situation with a practical concern. Together, she and William face the task of aiding the distressed figure, a man incapacitated by fear and confusion, now lying helpless on the ground. Their endeavor marks a moment of human connection and understanding, a reminder of the challenges faced by those touched by the supernatural, and the fragile line between fear and acceptance in a world where secrets loom in the shadows.
(William's odd encounter(SRKah):SRKah)
[Sat Nov 23 2024]
In a combination of kitchen and living room
A space dominated by the presence of mahogany woods, the floor covered in planks of different tones, from lighter to darker colors of the same kind of wood not seeming to follow any kind of pattern of color or placement regarding their shape. The same kind of planks covering the walls, vertically oriented, and ending up in a pretty contrasting pastel color, between white and brown, but leaning far more to the previous, with a long spread of small circular lights that provide the room some dim lighting to lean into the whole cozy atmosphere.
The eastern side of the room displays two tall inside lamps with a soft brown colored fabric to dim out the light coming from them. A dark wood table of low height positioned relatively towards the center, surrounded from north, east and south by long white leather sofas, able to fit between two or three people each.
As one moves towards the western side though the room seemlessly transitions into a wall-less kitchen, starting with an isle topped with a black polished quartz countertop that works both as dining table and cooking space. Against the wall, a big counter, topped with the same stone slab as the isle, and presenting different utilities like a sink, a fridge, a diswasher and several cabinets and drawers to store both food and cutlery.
It is afternoon, about 48F(8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Someone in Haven has found out about the supernatural and is freaking out about it. They're at risk of exposing the secret, hurting themselves, or hurting others. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the street as you awaken abruptly to the sound of frantic shouting and the unmistakable crash of something being knocked over. The light filters through your window, flooding the room with an almost surreal brightness. The noises from outside are impossible to ignore. When William eventually rises, they'll find the warmth of the afternoon sun contrasting sharply with the chaos that greets them. Checking for the source of the commotion out the window perhaps, they'll see a sight both strange and maybe familiar. In the street, a figure stands, illuminated by the daylight. Their eyes are wide with terror, and they clutch a broken piece of wood, brandishing it like a weapon. Their voice is shrill with panic, and you catch fragmented words between the cries: "No! Stay back! I know what you are!"
As The figure swings the wood wildly, their movements are erratic and desperate. The few neighbors who have ventured out keep their distance, unsure of how to intervene. The tension in the air is palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as the person's fear teeters on the edge of violence. You move closer, each step deliberate and slow, trying to project calm. The person's eyes dart towards everywhere from your vantage point, their grip tightening on the makeshift weapon. Sweat glistens on their brow, and their breathing is ragged, chest heaving with each frantic breath. The scene is chaoticshadows flickering, voices murmuring in the background, and the ever-present sense that one wrong move could escalate things beyond control. The sunlight casts long shadows across the street, highlighting the raw, unfiltered fear in the figures eyes.
Beginning to approach, the person's gaze locks onto something. For a moment, everything seems to hang in the balance, the afternoon air filled with the scent of fear and the quiet hum of distant murmurs from onlookers, watching with bated breath. The figure's eyes are filled with an overwhelming mix of emotions, at whatever's caused them to suddenly have an episode in the middle of the road! They scream out more incoherent words, but there's nobody there to talk to. The figure's grip on the wood loosens slightly, their shoulders slumping in exhaustion from holding it so rigidly out before them, like they're desperate for their life. Whether through curtains or blinds, William will know one thing for certain. That person is in a bad way, and he probably knows why. It wouldn't be that long ago that he himself was beginning to be rudely awakened to the very real dangers and threats all around him.
William watches the scene for a couple seconds through the windows, maybe a little confused, maybe just sluggish from having just woken up. He takes his time to rise an arm and stretch his back, having it crack nicely, and with a look around the apartment, he slowly fishes for his clothes around the place, the ones that he's not already wearing, that is, putting on some winter clothes like a beanie and a coat before even stepping closer to the door.
He had been doing that lately. The cold really didn't bother him, but lately he had been an extra tad paranoid in comparison to before. People shouldn't know how good he withstood the cold. It would lead them to believe he is something he indeed is, and that he's struggling to still come to terms withs.
But soon enough he opens the door, and, after walking the long hallway, he steps foot into the street, giving a glance around before with a sigh heading towards where the man was creating the commotion, deciding to find out what was it all about
The man in winter clothes approaches cautiously, his breath visible in the cold afternoon air. As William steps closer, the crazed figure's terror intensifies. Their eyes dart around wildly, like a cornered animal searching for a way out. The grip on the broken piece of wood is so tight that their knuckles are bone white, the jagged end trembling from the force of their fear. "Stay back!" they shriek, the words tearing from their throat in a raw, desperate cry. They swing the wood in a wide, erratic arc, trying to create a barrier of space between themselves and the approaching man. Each swing is wild and uncontrolled, a manifestation of their inner turmoil and panic. The man's attempt at a calm approach seems to only heighten the figure's distress. They backpedal clumsily, nearly tripping over their own feet in their frantic effort to maintain distance. Sweat mixes with tears on their face, their expression a mask of pure, unadulterated terror. "I know what you are!" they scream again, their voice cracking. "You're not going to take me!"
As Their movements become even more frantic, their eyes wide and wild as they look for any sign of safety or escape. The neighbors watching from a distance seem frozen, unsure whether to intervene or keep their distance. The sunlight casts long, stark shadows across the scene, amplifying the sense of surreal danger. The figure's breathing is harsh and irregular, their chest heaving with the effort to draw air. The man continues to speak softly, trying to reassure them, but their words are drowned out by the hammering of the figure's own heartbeat in their ears. The makeshift weapon wavers in their grasp, the wood slick with sweat.
Every step the man takes seems to bring the figure closer to the brink. They scream again, a wordless sound of pure fear, and the piece of wood slips from their grip, clattering to the ground. For a moment, they stand there, paralyzed by indecision, before they collapse to their knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Their body shakes with the force of their emotions, and the tension in the air is almost tangible. The immediate threat of violence has passed, but the underlying fear and confusion still linger like a dark cloud. The man kneels beside the figure, speaking in low, soothing tones, trying to offer comfort. The figure's sobs gradually subside, replaced by deep, shuddering breaths. The neighbors start to disperse, the danger seemingly over, but the echoes of the panic remain, a stark reminder of how quickly fear can escalate. A good opportunity for William to move this outside of the public eye.
And just as luck would have it, this is the time Emmelline will make an appearance, from down the road or perhaps a nearby apartment. The timing is either serendipitous or suspicious, but at least the woman in the middle of the street isn't scraming at the top of her lungs anymore.
Emmelline is just sort of strolling down the street. As one does, dressed in her winter coat to keep the cold from getting right through her. She isn't paying much attention, till she comes upon the scene. "Bill mate?," she says, as she goes over to William's side, "What goes on here?," she asks, looking to the man for some clarification. "Everything all right?"
William seems to frown for a second and whatever the man is saying, but only briefly, and not too noticeably, maybe he just finds the disruption annoying, or the whole situation kind of a bother, but he doesn't really seem as affected by the state of the man as he probably would have felt a month or so ago, there seems to be a different air to him, though maybe that is due to having woken up just a couple minutes ago
But William seems to snap out of whatever he's thinking whenever Emmelline finally arrives and speaks, he, no longer being alone, turns to face her for a moment, kind of distracted. He takes a moment to speak, as if gathering his words, or maybe just slow on the uptake, he himself also wearing heavy winter clothing "Oh- No idea, I have just woken up and- Well, saw that through the window... Still figuring out what is it all about"
As Emmelline comes over, she'll find William standing next to a figure passed out in the road. Dressed in normal clothing, they seem like any other citizen except for the broken, sharp piece of wood they'd been flailing about as they screamed at ... nobody. The neighbors have all gone now, nothing more intersting left to see really but it leaves these two know with the unexpected burden of figuring out what to do with this slumped out figure.
"All right then," Emmelline says, as she looks dubiously at the figure that is slumped out in the middle of the street. "Let's see if we can't figure out what goes on here," she says as she takes the figure's pulse, and tries to deduce if there are injuries.
Checking the person slumped on the ground, it's a guy. Black hair, brown eyes. No injuries of immediate note, just a sense of exhaustion that's forced this man to pass out. Further information about them or what's happened in full will have to come from William. Too much longer though and more people might poke their heads out to come looking. It's not an everyday sight for two people to be casually discussing what to do over the passed out body of someone else.