{"id":27920,"date":"2025-11-11T03:21:11","date_gmt":"2025-11-11T08:21:11","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2025-11-11T03:21:11","modified_gmt":"2025-11-11T08:21:11","slug":"encounter-1148","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/2025\/11\/11\/encounter-1148\/","title":{"rendered":"Tessa&#8217;s Monday afternoon odd encounter(Tessa)"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2025-11-10 15:10<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008000\">               (<\/span>Tessa&#8217;s Monday afternoon odd encounter(Tessa):Tessa<span style=\"color:#008000\">)<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008080\">        [<\/span>Mon Nov 10 2025<span style=\"color:#008080\">]<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Frosted glass globes providing warm illumination during darker hours. The air<\/p>\n<p>A black desk sits toward the center of the room, and many, many boxes are piled up around the room.<\/p>\n<p>It is about <span style=\"color:#008080\">55<\/span>F(<span style=\"color:#008080\">12<\/span>C) degrees.  The mist is heaviest <span style=\"color:#867c6c\">A<span style=\"color:#8a7968\">t<span style=\"color:#8d7763\"> <span style=\"color:#8f745e\">K<span style=\"color:#92725a\">i<span style=\"color:#956f55\">n<span style=\"color:#976c51\">g<span style=\"color:#996a4c\"> <span style=\"color:#9b6747\">a<span style=\"color:#9d6543\">n<span style=\"color:#9f623e\">d<span style=\"color:#a15f39\"> <span style=\"color:#a25c34\">W<span style=\"color:#a45930\">o<span style=\"color:#a5572b\">o<span style=\"color:#a75426\">d<span style=\"color:#a85121\">c<span style=\"color:#a94d1b\">r<span style=\"color:#aa4a15\">e<span style=\"color:#ab470f\">s<span style=\"color:#ac4406\">t\/span><\/span\/span\n\n<br \/>(Your target is attacked by an animal or small group of animals driven mad with magic, it is up to them to escape or fight them off for long enough for their allies to arrive and help deal with the threat.<br \/>\n)<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s a normal day for Eric, a day where he&#8217;s seeking to spoil his pregnant fiancee. Entering the mall, there&#8217;s a distant bellow, inhuman, loud enough to echo in such a way that it&#8217;s impossible to pinpoint it, some sort of animals in a nearby green space fighting, perhaps. Tessa has asked for cake, though, and he knows precisely what to get, though that bellow comes again, a bull moose sounding rather irritated. <\/p>\n<p>Eric strides through the mall, casting a discerning eye over every shop window display as he passes. &#8220;Cake, cake,&#8221; he mutters to himself, repeating it like a mantra. &#8220;More of that fudge cake, I think&#8230;&#8221; He stops only when he hears that sound, head tilting, braids splaying across his broad shoulders. Without hesitation he starts jogging in that direction, bare feet near silent on the tiled floors. <\/p>\n<p>By the time he gets back to the doors, so has the source of the sound. Maybe seven feet at the shoulder, with an impressive rack. It&#8217;s starting to press in between the doors, to try and get into the mall, maybe to rampage like a bull in a china shop, maybe something else, if the faint glow under its fur in some spots says anything. Eric may not be well trained in the occult, but glowing wounds are a pretty obvious sign of something being wrong, regardless. <\/p>\n<p>Eric blinks confoundedly, clearly this wasn&#8217;t quite what he expected. He stops a few feet away to consider the creature, then he approaches slowly, arms held out to his sides, moving with as little threat in his posture as he can manage. &#8220;Hey there big guy,&#8221; he murmurs, voice soothing. &#8220;You look like soomething got you pretty good.&#8221; Only when he&#8217;s close enough does he reach out, presenting his hand close enough to be sniffed. &#8220;Why don&#8217;t you just let me have a look, huh? See what we can do for you.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>A familiar chime sounds in his ear, call it good timing, the familiar 911 tone, before a voice comes on, some no-name officer in a bored tone, delivering a report in a voice that could put a junkie to sleep. The pertinent information that he can pick out is that there is a known rampaging animal, it appears to be rampaging, and regenerating, in turn.  <\/p>\n<p>That&#8217;s no surprise to Eric, though, given that as he watches, those glowing wounds knit themselves closed, glow disappearing, as i the wounds were never there in the first place.  <\/p>\n<p>The officer informs that they are sweeping the area, and are combing Fairefield for where this creature might&#8217;ve wandered off to &#8211; it can&#8217;t be that hard to keep an eye on a fully grown bull moose, but apparently so for New Haven&#8217;s finest.  <\/p>\n<p>As this communication is coming in, though, the moose is not looking at Eric with any particular kindness, he&#8217;s twisting his head, trying to get his antlers in, stopped by the span of the doorway, and ramming his head against the doors. <\/p>\n<p>Eric lowers his hand, instead pulling out his phone to glance at it. &#8220;Well fuck,&#8221; he mutters, slipping it back into his suit jacket pocket. &#8220;Can&#8217;t let them get their hands on you and see you regenerating and shit, now can we. Eric considers for several moments, then simply sighs and rolls up his sleeves. &#8220;You&#8217;re not going to like this,&#8221; he tells the moose, before stepping forward and seizing it by the antlers, veins popping from his forearms as he pushes the creature back so he can step through the doors. <\/p>\n<p>As he grabs the moose, there is an almost siren-like blast of sound, that bellow far louder up close to the creature. The veins on its throat glow with a subtle light, and it grows louder, uncomfortable to be so close to, physically, but also the force of it trying to push him back, away from the creature.  <\/p>\n<p>Unfortunately for the mall doors, that also pushes the poor, dumb animal back as the sonic wall impacts against the door, breaking the hinges off in the process, meaning Eric needs to grab on tight to this mystical moose of musical magic means if he wants to not let it get a step back to gore him. <\/p>\n<p>Eric loses his hold on the moose, stumbling as that blast of sound hits him. As he&#8217;s staggering, the moose gets just enough room, and that goring takes him low in the belly, knocking him backward into the falling doors. What comes next is almost reflexive, a snarl twisting his lips away from his teeth, his clenched fist lashing out in a brutal blow aimed at the easiest thing to see, the moose&#8217;s glowing throat. <\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s like standing as a hurricane tries to sweep his feet out from under him, unsurprising that it&#8217;s difficult to stay on his feet. Between the sheer force of sound and the wind &#8211; is this moose using multiple kinds of magic? &#8211; it&#8217;s toppling him, doors skidding past the cake and tattoo shops, thudding noisily into the escalators. The moose turns, just at the right time, to prepare for another charge, avoiding the punch, and then, it&#8217;s running back at him, head low, murder in its body language.  <\/p>\n<p>In his ear, Eric hears the chime of the 911 line again, the same, boring officer droning out, &#8220;The target has been spotted at the Galleria Mall, engaged in conflict. We are fifteen out, will snare upon arrival.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Eric rolls to one side where he&#8217;s fallen on the ground, coming up in a low crouch. Anger bleeds off of him in near palpable waves, the usual placid impassivity of his features twisting towards something harsh and furious, pale skin stretched more taut over a more brutal jut of cheekbones and a pugnacious set to his square jaw. As crimson alights the depths of his green eyes his entire form seems to grow somehow more dense, shoulders, chest, and biceps straining the confines of his jacket as he snarls and charges again, arms spread wide. <\/p>\n<p>The moose is clearly thrown off by being stopped, limbs digging at the ground as though expecting to keep going, cartoonishly flailing as it digs, trying to get leverage against the supernaturally strong hellhound of a werewolf &#8211; but alas, he&#8217;s held, and held firm.  <\/p>\n<p>That is, until the moose begins to heat, more and more. The glow that crossed its body changes color, concerning, and the moose bellows again, in pain, this time, before it&#8230; breathes fire? What the fuck is wrong with this moose? Maybe it&#8217;s not a shifter.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Ten minutes out, reports say whatever process has afflicted the creature appears to be magical in origins, potions, alchemy, rituals, unclear. Multiple schools of mancy have been reported. Containment procedures are inacted, the suppression van has been sent, and is en route.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Eric yelps, steam rising from his skin, but the pain seems to only drive him harder as he rears back, driving his fist at the moose&#8217;s skull while holding it in place. &#8220;I&#8217;m trying to help you you dumb fucking animal,&#8221; he spits, blood landing in the animal&#8221;s fur from his split lip. &#8220;They&#8217;re going to kill you, I just want to get you back to the mist, or whereever you came from.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>As the punch lands, the moose belches another huff of fire, hind legs bending, trying to shove with all its strength to get Eric off of it. The crunch of gravel and the roar of an engine can be heard several streets off, police sirens distant, droning coming over the speakers of the vehicle, indistinct, more of the same, likely.  <\/p>\n<p>They&#8217;re getting closer, animal control, with their specialty vehicle, intended to neutralize any magic, any technology, inside, not unlike the oubliette in his home. At least, that&#8217;s what the police claim. <\/p>\n<p>Eric takes the blast of fire across the arm, his jacket shriveling away as he continues to work his arm up and down, raining blow after blow down on the moose&#8217;s skull. &#8220;Will you fucking,&#8221; he pants, pounding away at its head, trying to knock it out. &#8220;Cooperate!&#8221; The last is punctuated by a final punch right between the eyes, but he&#8217;s stumbling back as he finally loses his grip, glowering at the moose in exasperated irritation. The crunch of gravel catches his ear,, and he bites at his lip, torn between what to do, now burned and bloodied by the fight at hand. <\/p>\n<p>The blows have certainly staggered the moose, fire cutting off suddenly, in a way that very clearly does not seem intentional, as that glow from before rises, staggering animal glowing with supernatural regeneration that rivals Eric&#8217;s dad&#8217;s. Still, one does not get punched in the head repeatedly without consequences, and the moose teeters, tottering, legs not cooperating under it as he tries his best to stay upright.  <\/p>\n<p>If Eric is listening, the suppression van, lined with copper, sigils matching the ones his fiancee painted onto the walls of their oubliette, approaches, parking far enough to be inconvenient, and the driver is clearly out of their element.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Officer Davis, NHPD,&#8221; comes blaring from the speakers atop the vehicle. &#8220;Please identify yourself and your affiliations,&#8221; as though it were Eric who made this poor, mutilated moose be what it is.  <\/p>\n<p>The doors at the back of the truck open, and two officers jump down with a thud, heavy armor encasing each of them. They are not paying attention to Eric, though, just the moose, who seems to be barely upright. <\/p>\n<p>Eric gives the moose a look like, see what you did? Then he turns to the officers, hands out, palms up. &#8220;Look. I&#8217;m with the Order,&#8221; he tells them clearly, placating, each word even despite his tattered state. &#8220;I&#8217;m taking this moose,&#8221; he pauses to deliver another punch, &#8220;Back to where it belongs. I&#8217;ve got this under control. Y&#8217;all just need to handle cleanup. Go in there and tell all the nice folks that you got the big bad moose, and it&#8217;s going to be fine, and I&#8217;ll carry him off.&#8221; He approaches the moose, intending to sling the dazed creature over one broad shoulder, eyes still warily watching the officers and their vehicle. <\/p>\n<p>The officer in the driver&#8217;s seat speaks, mouth moving, though Eric can&#8217;t hear what he&#8217;s saying, Officer Davis&#8217;s brows knitting, a pinch of sausage-like fingers between dull brown eyes, and then there&#8217;s a touch to something at his chest, and his voice drones from the speakers again. &#8220;Do you have a containment facility, son? We were called to suppress this moose&#8217;s powers, this is not the second or third time we&#8217;ve been out this way lately.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>As Eric holds onto it, the moose bellows again, over his shoulder, and the officers approaching skid like stones on a pond, one flipping a few times before landing, face down, and he can hear what is either an older woman or a younger man call out, shakily, &#8220;M&#8217;Okay!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Eric winces, but then he&#8217;s nodding vigorously. &#8220;I&#8217;ve got a, uh, a facility. In my basement. It&#8217;s a pillow pit, but it&#8217;s warded. Scout&#8217;s honor.&#8221; He sketches a vague salute in the direction of the speakers, before he smacks the moose sharply on the snout. &#8220;Will you shut up,&#8221; he mutters, clamping his hand over its muzzle to hold it closed, lifting it bodily over his shoulder. &#8220;Do you want to get shot you big dumb idiot?&#8221; Speaking once more to the officers, he calls out, &#8220;I&#8217;ll just be on my way with my friend here, no trouble, fine officers, he won&#8217;t be back. I can promise you that.&#8221; He starts edging away, keeping his gaze on the police in front of him, never turning his back as he focuses mostly on the struggling moose. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Son, we&#8217;re trying to help the moose, same as you. A&#8230;&#8221; His tone goes condescending, &#8220;pillow&#8230; pit&#8230; is no place for a bull moose. He&#8217;ll be kept in a facility warded to keep him from hurting himself, or others, and when the magic passes, he&#8217;ll be released back into the wild,&#8221; the officer tries to explain to Eric.  <\/p>\n<p>Over his comms, he hears a familiar French voice, inquiring into just what he&#8217;s doing with the aforementioned moose. <\/p>\n<p>Eric hears that french voice, and he stops, looking abashed. &#8220;Fine,&#8221; he grunts, but he doesn&#8217;t look happy about it. He starts lugging the moose towards the back of the containment van, blinking at the two fallen officers as he passes. &#8220;You sure you folks are trained for this? Honestly.&#8221; He attempts to toss the dazed moose into the back of the van, before dusting off his hands and turning back. &#8220;You better treat that moose right, or I&#8217;ll be coming back to find you lot, and I&#8217;ll bring all my weird friends with me. I know a guy who turns into a squid, and a scuba vampire, and an ass necromancer. So, I&#8217;ll be asking around, and if I hear anything untoward happened to this here moose, well. You get it.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The moose bellows again, but the doors are trivially easy for him to shut, the bellow coming a bit wobbly, but&#8230; it seems, for now, the moose is contained. The officers, both presumedly human, rise to their feet fairly quickly, the young man hopping up like he didn&#8217;t just get blown back by a sonic moose, helping up the other officer.  <\/p>\n<p>A few words are exchanged, badge numbers, contact lines, an assurance to Eric that the moose will be fine, and that he can contact the facility to check in on the animal, before they, if he doesn&#8217;t hold them up, pack into the front of the van with Officer Davis to head out, moose still bellowing in the back. <\/p>\n<p>Eric waves to them as they drive off, as if he didn&#8217;t just threaten them with anal undeath and underwater nibbling. &#8220;Have a good day,&#8221; he calls, then turns back, walking over the fallen doors and back into the mall. &#8220;Now about that cake,&#8221; he mumbles, seemingly unaware he&#8217;s still covered in ash, blood, and moose hair. &#8220;Fudge, I think, with extra sprinkles&#8230;&#8221; <br \/><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Date: 2025-11-10 15:10 (Tessa&#8217;s Monday afternoon odd encounter(Tessa):Tessa) [Mon Nov 10 2025] Frosted glass globes providing warm illumination during darker hours. The air A black desk sits toward the center of the room, and many, many boxes are piled up around the room. It is&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[134],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-27920","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-encounterlog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27920","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=27920"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27920\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=27920"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=27920"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=27920"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}