{"id":29770,"date":"2026-05-13T02:23:09","date_gmt":"2026-05-13T06:23:09","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2026-05-13T02:23:09","modified_gmt":"2026-05-13T06:23:09","slug":"encounter-1410","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/2026\/05\/13\/encounter-1410\/","title":{"rendered":"Selene&#8217;s Tuesday afternoon odd encounter(Selene)"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-05-12 13:56<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008000\">               (<\/span>Selene&#8217;s Tuesday afternoon odd encounter(Selene):Selene<span style=\"color:#008000\">)<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008080\">        [<\/span>Tue May 12 2026<span style=\"color:#008080\">]<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">In <span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">S<span style=\"color:#29bbcc\">h<span style=\"color:#40e5db\">o<span style=\"color:#6ff9d6\">r<span style=\"color:#e7de7a\">e<span style=\"color:#ff9e6b\">l<span style=\"color:#ff9689\">i<span style=\"color:#ffefce\">g<span style=\"color:#ff9689\">h<span style=\"color:#ff9e6b\">t <span style=\"color:#6ff9d6\">C<span style=\"color:#40e5db\">a<span style=\"color:#29bbcc\">f<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">e                                             <span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">\/span<\/span\/span><br \/><span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">E<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">d<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">i<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">s<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">o<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">n <span style=\"color:#36dad5\">b<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">u<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">l<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">b<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">s <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">h<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">a<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">n<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">g <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">f<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">r<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">o<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">m <span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">e<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">x<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">p<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">o<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">s<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">e<span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">d <span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">b<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">e<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">a<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">m<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">s<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">, <span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">c<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">a<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">s<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">ti<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">n<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">g <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">w<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">a<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">r<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">m <span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">l<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">i<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">gh<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">t    <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">o<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">v<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">e<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">r <span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">re<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">c<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">l<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">a<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">i<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">m<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">e<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">d <span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">w<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">o<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">od <span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">t<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">a<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">b<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">l<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">e<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">s <span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">a<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">n<span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">d <span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">m<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">i<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">s<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">m<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">a<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">t<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">c<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">h<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">e<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">d <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">c<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">h<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">a<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">i<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">r<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">s<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">. <span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">T<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">h<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">e <span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">b<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">a<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">r   <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">c<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">o<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">u<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">n<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">t<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">er <span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">r<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">u<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">n<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">s <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">a<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">l<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">o<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">n<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">g <span style=\"color:#ffc269\">t<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">h<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">e <span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">s<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">o<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">u<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">t<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">h<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">e<span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">rn <span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">w<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">a<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">l<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">l<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">, <span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">i<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">t<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">s <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">s<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">u<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">r<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">f<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">a<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">c<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">e <span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">w<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">o<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">r<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">n      <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">s<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">m<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">o<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">o<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">t<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">h, <span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">b<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">a<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">c<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">k<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">e<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">d <span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">b<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">y <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">s<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">h<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">e<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">l<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">v<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">e<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">s <span style=\"color:#ffa595\">o<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">f <span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">ce<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">r<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">a<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">m<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">i<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">c <span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">m<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">u<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">g<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">s <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">a<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">n<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">d <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">a <span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">c<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">h<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">a<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">l<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">k<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">bo<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">a<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">r<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">d  <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">m<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">e<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">n<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">u<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">. <span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">L<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">a<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">r<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">g<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">e <span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">w<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">i<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">n<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">d<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">o<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">ws <span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">f<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">a<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">c<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">e <span style=\"color:#ff9085\">t<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">h<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">e <span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">oc<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">e<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">a<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">n<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">, <span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">s<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">a<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">l<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">t <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">li<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">g<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">h<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">t <span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">p<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">o<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">u<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">r<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">i<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">n<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">g <span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">i<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">n <span style=\"color:#2091c3\">b<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">y<br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">d<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">a<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">y<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">. <span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">Th<span style=\"color:#36dad5\">e <span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">a<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">i<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">r <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">s<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">m<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">e<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">l<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">ls <span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">o<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">f <span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">r<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">o<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">a<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">s<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">t<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">e<span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">d <span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">c<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">o<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">f<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">f<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">e<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">e <span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">a<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">n<span style=\"color:#ffc269\">d <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">s<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">o<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">m<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">e<span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">t<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">h<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">i<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">n<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">g <span style=\"color:#36dad5\">b<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">ak<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">i<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">n<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">g<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">, <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">a<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">n<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">d <span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">t<span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">he <span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">h<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">i<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">s<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">s <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">o<span style=\"color:#96f0b8\">f <span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">t<span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">he <span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">e<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">s<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">p<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">r<span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">e<span style=\"color:#ff9085\">s<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">s<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">o <span style=\"color:#ffe4c6\">dr<span style=\"color:#ffcfb6\">a<span style=\"color:#ffbaa5\">w<span style=\"color:#ffa595\">s <span style=\"color:#ff7b75\">f<span style=\"color:#ff7d6d\">o<span style=\"color:#ff8e6c\">r<span style=\"color:#ffa06b\">t<span style=\"color:#ffb16a\">h <span style=\"color:#ebdd77\">fr<span style=\"color:#cfe38d\">o<span style=\"color:#b2eaa3\">m <span style=\"color:#79f7ce\">b<span style=\"color:#5dfee4\">e<span style=\"color:#51f9e5\">h<span style=\"color:#4af1e1\">i<span style=\"color:#44e9dd\">n<span style=\"color:#3de1d9\">d <span style=\"color:#2bc5ce\">th<span style=\"color:#29b8cc\">e    <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#1d84c0\">b<span style=\"color:#2091c3\">a<span style=\"color:#239ec6\">r<span style=\"color:#26abc9\">.                                                        <span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">\/span<\/span\/span><\/p>\n<p>It is about <span style=\"color:#00ffff\">60<\/span>F(<span style=\"color:#00ffff\">15<\/span>C) degrees.  The mist is heaviest <span style=\"color:#a6ceff\">A<span style=\"color:#a3ccf8\">t<span style=\"color:#a1cbf2\"> <span style=\"color:#9fc9eb\">B<span style=\"color:#9dc8e5\">i<span style=\"color:#9bc7de\">r<span style=\"color:#99c5d8\">c<span style=\"color:#96c4d2\">h<span style=\"color:#94c3cb\"> <span style=\"color:#91c1c5\">a<span style=\"color:#8fc0bf\">n<span style=\"color:#8cbfb9\">d<span style=\"color:#8abdb2\"> <span style=\"color:#87bcac\">B<span style=\"color:#84bba6\">l<span style=\"color:#82b9a0\">a<span style=\"color:#7fb89a\">c<span style=\"color:#7cb693\">k<span style=\"color:#79b58d\">s<span style=\"color:#76b487\">t<span style=\"color:#73b281\">o<span style=\"color:#70b17b\">n<span style=\"color:#6cb074\">e\/span<\/span\/span><\/p>\n<p>Yukino is just attending the bar, moving a tray to one of the customers at the Shorelight with their orders. She smiles and does so with both of her hands. <\/p>\n<p>(Your target discovers they&#8217;ve been marked by a death curse &#8211; they have until midnight to find and confront the hedge witch who cast it, navigating through her supernatural protections and either convincing her to lift it or defeating her in a battle of wills.)<\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s some expected bustle of patronage at this hour of the day, with customers filtering into the cafe for a round of coffee, tea, if not a bite to eat. Most of these people probably aren&#8217;t that interesting, from some local businessmen gathering for an after-meeting coffee talk to a few fishermen talking about the daily catch, a trio of old ladies knitting over a cuppa, or a few students catching up on high-school style gossip.  <\/p>\n<p>A perfectly peaceful day; idyllic, almost, for some. But then again, this is New Haven, a town where trouble is often just a few steps, and one unfortunate turn around a corner, away. Out of nowhere, while Yukino is just doing her thing, a sudden sting is felt. Deep and sharp it hits, a pain that would likely temporarily incapacitate or cripple a non-Super. Like an invisible hand has slipped into her chest, found her heart, and is holding it in a vice-grip. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino freezes, glances around a hand reaching along her right hip as if wanting to place somewhere and finding only her skin. Her hands settles there, and she exhales a sigh. <\/p>\n<p>Quick and sudden the pain came, but quick and sudden also describes its &#8216;presence&#8217; fading. Once that grip over her heart is gone, what it is becomes quite apparent, especially to someone a bit savvy in the occult. The way your eyes feel hazier, the way this grip felt way too tangible, and some voice in the back of the head are all telling the same thing: &#8216;This is probably a hex, a ritual, a curse&#8217;. A very common tactic in the supernatural world.  <\/p>\n<p>As another pulse of pain starts to swell up, and with it the lass&#8217; vision gets muddier and darker, the people around her still look unalerted. But there is something that is registered, just before the next wave of discomfort becomes too overwhelming, and that is the sound of&#8230; those knitting needles. They become remarkably loud to you, for but a few seconds, each time they click against one another resounding in the back of your head like a wardrum so loud, so reverberant. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino stares at nothing at all, just blank ahead when her vision grows muddier and darker. She takes a deep breathe in through her nose and more by instinct than decision, does her hand move to the little buttons at the communicator around her wrist. &#8220;One might not be feeling so well.&#8221; She says out loud, trying to draw the attention of her colleagues. Of course, all while asking for the employed security operatives to come, over-caution winning over testing any waters or daring to try withdraw on her lone. <\/p>\n<p>That blank wall, that black spot, practically becomes her entire world for a while. Her surroundings are gone, Yukino is now in the middle of a void. An empty, cold, hollow space of nothing but blackness. There is, occasionally, a faint sound that comes from some of the customers, like hearing the clanking of a spoon against a mug, but they are a rare reminder that the real world is still out there. Thankfully, while the pain swells up, and that hex works its twisted magic on her, her body is remarkably intact. Sure, discomfort will make some movements laboured, but no muscles have frozen stiff, no joints have locked up.  <\/p>\n<p>This turns out remarkably helpful, with the woman managing to alert her well-trained operatives even if, to her, it could feel like they&#8217;d have to cross through galaxies to find her in this void. One steps up just in time for the next session of trouble; Again, a crippling wave of pain is felt, this time targeting not the heart but the skull, the brain, the ears. It becomes hard to measure exactly where the pain&#8217;s origin point lies in the body, but it&#8217;s certainly somewhere above the neck. It hits hard enough to topple just about anyone, but luckily for Yukino, one of her bodyguards is there to hold onto her shoulder. Prevent her from direct collapse. Serve as a link between the real, physical world, and whatever emptiness she resides in. And right as the pain hit, that same sound was heard again, somewhere in a dark, forgotten corner in the back of her head. The metallic clicking. The faint scrape of metal-on-metal. And a rattly, crackly cackle.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;M&#8230;.&#8221;  <br \/>\n&#8220;&#8230; ss?..&#8221;  <br \/>\n&#8220;.. el..?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Miss?!&#8221; That voice. Familiar. You know who it is. Suddenly, you see again. The pain fades. The room is.. normal. At least for now. <\/p>\n<p>Your vision will take a while to regain full focus. But you know where you are. You know that, besides you, stands one of your reliable bodyguards. They look alerted, too, on the verge of causing a public scene, or clearing the room to escort you away. &#8220;Miss? What.. is wrong?&#8221; A pause, as the other calls over, &#8220;.. has she drank anything?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>By now, the people in the cafe will obviously be alerted, too. Curious eyes, unspoken questions, and lots of visible, tangible concern. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;One might say it would be best to deliver her to the people and inform of a hex.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Yukino<\/span> tries to say, carefully, slow. Her breathing grows controlled in the way she might be familiar with. She still holds still, and at the least, being small and light will make it at least less difficult to transport her along. The people, of course, to her affiliation. &#8220;One might not desire to cause a scene.&#8221; Of course, there is always more. <\/p>\n<p>Someone in the room with you wants to see you suffer. You don&#8217;t know this directly, of course, as an Angel&#8217;s desire sensitivity isn&#8217;t some app or line of code you can check for prompts, requests, or entires. But that desire is there, in the room, powerful. Whoever it is wants you to be hurting. Even worse, they want you dead, and are relishing in seeing you plummet towards such a fate.  <\/p>\n<p>The words that leave the Asian lady come out quietly, far quieter than she probably would have expected. Every word uttered loses a bit of vibrance, a bit of resonance, until you&#8217;re practically producing little more than a breath worth of a whisper. Here, it helps again that one of her reliable side-kicks has moved up to her side, the only able to hear everything. And he is able to convey that last request of hers to the other bodyguard, relying on a simple nod, hand-gesture, or other practice signal to do so.  <\/p>\n<p>You hear how the situation is getting defused already, or at least you think you know this is happening. Because, again, that blanket of cold, of darkness, of emptiness creeps back in, drawing over your vision like the curtains of a stage that will never welcome a play on its elevated podium ever again.  <\/p>\n<p>This time, as the black consumes your world, and that crippling pain returns, targeted on your throat this time, the void is not empty. Something is there, producing tremors, or sounds, or could it even be moving?  <\/p>\n<p>In reality, only ten or so seconds will pass, but the mind will feel like it is wandering this emptiness for many tiring minutes. Until you think you&#8217;ve found what it is. You hear..  <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">*Tik&#8230;*<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">@line  <br \/>\n<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\"> <i>38*&#8230;. tok.*<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">  <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\"> <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">*&#8230;TIK*<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">  <\/p>\n<p>w <i>38*Tok&#8230;*<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\"> <\/p>\n<p>Yukino balls her hand into a fist, trying to state loud as she might that &#8220;One might never forget the wild hunt, perhaps. And one might find it difficult to forgive.&#8221; Her little hand balls faster. &#8220;Deliver this one to the Temple. Let their arcanist know something might be quite wrong. Tell them it might be time to repay someone&#8217;s help.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>If this would have happened anywhere else, fate could have made far worse turns. Thankfully, there is a pair of invisible wings shielding this little lady, or at least keeps a watchful eye over here. While her presence is distant, hard to detect, it is there. You feel it, like a familiar friend&#8217;s hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. It comes with a brief glimpse of proper vision, of letting you see the room you are in. And it highlights only one thing.  <\/p>\n<p>Do you even remember the old ladies, the innocent grannies chatting about their gardens, their grandkids, or how nippy the weather has been. Only now do you properly get to see through the guise of one of them. Something else must have been shielding them somewhat, obfuscating from you their presence. Their aura, that of a person who is completely lost. Not stained by corruption, not damned by temptation, but someone who has completely lost their entire self to the Invitation, the draw, of corrupting power.  <\/p>\n<p>You see her hands work on some simple embroidery, and every time those knitting tools of her click together, it matches perfectly with that faint &#8216;melody&#8217; of clicking needles you heard. It even matches the pace at which the invisible clock was ticking.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t.. make out what she&#8217;s trying to tell me!&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Oh dear. That is concerning. Your words, to you, sound loud enough to be audible. Why does it appear you aren&#8217;t able to reach the ears of your trusty bodyguard. Instead of moving you to the door, the second one is leaving the building to make some calls, and the only one you&#8217;re left with is uncertain, too. He probably feels how your body is starting to actually get weaker, fast, how your posture is wanting to slouch, to cave, to turn into putty. Give him a bit longer, and he might just opt to lift you up, carry you away. But with it, you might lose your ability to ever find that old hag again.  <\/p>\n<p>A whisper suddenly reaches you.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You..&#8221;  <br \/>\n&#8220;.. only&#8230;&#8221;  <br \/>\n&#8220;&#8230;. have..&#8221;  <br \/>\n&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;. an..&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>\n&#8220;&#8230; hour.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Yukino stars at someone she sees. A veil of starlight starts to build around her, hundreds of little dots sparkle and shine, a deep breathe in, and she makes to move, quickly, much as she can towards the darkness that she can see with the help of her charm.  <\/p>\n<p>Someone who would be far too happy to gain her attention, whom she could simply affect, even to the worst quality without consequence. One, who&#8217;s seen the darkness and sunk into it like into quicksand, perhaps. One who could never even defeat her if they tried. All this on the presumption that she was not of higher corruption than she was. When she comes to a stop, she looks closely and states &#8220;Miss. One might not be able to help notice that the miss is&#8230; causing difficulties for the rest of the shop. If she might not cease, there might be need for security intervention.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Every step your body could muster feels like it cost you a fortune&#8217;s worth of energy. Every breath needed to help fuel your body with air for the journey draining a reserve that is thinning by the second. And even as you get there, the world still looks so dark. So empty. Shadows move before you, taking the vague shapes of the bodies of what should be those elderly ladies. Your words come out, by now even sounding like they&#8217;re the drowning pleas of a sailor already miles below the deep, blue surface of the ocean. The hex works on, sapping you, draining you, doing what it can to distance you from reality, to make you feel alone, isolated, and without escape.  <\/p>\n<p>But you have something the hexer doesn&#8217;t. Several things, in fact, but one of them is that divine guidance. That support of an entity far, far more powerful than anything that could support this vile curse-spreading crone. This must be what a Paladin in DnD would feel, when they&#8217;re caught in an impossible situation, but are suddenly filled with motivation, with radiant resolve, to step up to face the terrors before them, and deliver one last smite with which to fell the darkness.  <\/p>\n<p>The world warps before your eyes again, with all darkness, all shadows, all that emptiness around you practically getting sucked into a vortex centralized in your peripherals. It is likely an experience that leaves you disoriented, wobbly on the legs, but remember; You have more than one thing the old hag doesn&#8217;t have, and that&#8217;s that reliable bodyguard at your side. They keep you upright. They keep you steady. Their hand on your shoulder continues to anchor you to reality as it has in your moments in the void.  <\/p>\n<p>However, when your eyes lose the haze of disorientation, you are left surprised. There should be three knitting ladies here. You only see two of them, who genuinely look like they couldn&#8217;t harm a mosquito even if it&#8217;d bite their dearest of grandchildren. Horror. Shock. Surprise. Confusion. A wave of emotions similar like those could hit you.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8230; if not for Akachou&#8217;s presence, again, serving as an additional tether. A glimpse, of you looking through a pair of eyes that aren&#8217;t yours, focused on the wall besides the old ladies&#8217; booth. Crawling up on the wall, creeping away to make a sneaky escape..  <\/p>\n<p><i>38Hold onto your horses, Ron Weasleys..<span style=\"color:#c0c0c0\">  <\/p>\n<p>.. a long-limbed, fuzzy-bodied little spider. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino probably also topples over, making a loud squeaky &#8220;Eeek!&#8221; with one of her arms flailing while her other moves forward to outright squash a little spider. SQUIRT. That probably did not feel nice in her hand, if she still possessed a sense for such a thing, but the little spider probably did not suffer much.  <\/p>\n<p>Whether she plonks with her head against something or faceplants the floor, or the one Mikage Holdings security operatives catches her, once she is up agaon, she will be huffing and try say &#8220;One might have gotten a little dizzy suddenly, it seems.&#8221; Ignoring the dark spot of a squashed dark spider corpse on the wall. &#8220;One might have fallen on something&#8230;&#8221; And then adding, two seconds later &#8220;&#8230;perhaps.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Suffer? Oh, that spider felt NOTHING. Whether accidental, intentional, if not straight-up shoved by Akachou, toppling over there turned out to be a perfect solution for the problem. The second your palm came down, it pretty much drained the spider of its life-thread instantly. The pressure was applied so evenly, every limb practically snapped at the same time, and its body just caved to surface tension to spew out a bit of icky sticky insect yuck as a final &#8216;fuck you&#8217;. Normally, a shifter would now turn back into their normal self, but that would imply the shifter is still breathing, is still alive, and is actually human.  <\/p>\n<p>Whatever you dealt with here is clearly none of that. It likely wasn&#8217;t even a human you glimpsed at, a cursed crone lost to the invitation of the dark, whose humanity and morality has been blackened out, replaced with nothing but the guided malice of another dark entity, looming over New Haven. But that entity now knows there is another active entity, watching over town &#8211; at least select spots &#8211; and it&#8217;s one this thing cannot tango with.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh, dearie..&#8221; the old ladies offer, drawing the focus back on the happenings at the table. They&#8217;re all endearing concern and worries. &#8220;.. have a sit, dear. Here.&#8221; One retrieves the cookie she got with her tea, and offers it over.  <\/p>\n<p>Be careful now, before you end up entrapped again. Pulled into the rabbit hole of having some dear, kind old grannies give you warm tea, a cookie or two, knit you up a comfy blanket, and so on.  <\/p>\n<p>Your bodyguard is still there. Uncertain, still, whether he should be wary of the women you moved towards. But at least you can see him. You can talk to him, normally. Your heart isn&#8217;t pounding, your ears aren&#8217;t ringing, your eyes stay clear and sharp.. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino looks at her open palm. Of course there might be something, but she might never know. It is small, when the corners of her lips find themselves curved upwards, and it helps much more when the old ladies by the table try to coodle her a little. She smiles, takes the cookies with both of her hands, dips her head. &#8220;One is very grateful&#8230;&#8221; And when she withdraws, she withdraws, back to behind the bar. Back to work, with her security operative with her, to whom she whispers that the matter was finally resolved. <\/p>\n<p>Yukino looks at her open palm. Of course there might be something, but she might never know. It is small, when the corners of her lips find themselves curved upwards, and it helps much more when the old ladies by the table try to coodle her a little. She smiles, takes the cookies with both of her hands, dips her head. &#8220;One is very grateful&#8230;&#8221; And when she withdraws, she withdraws, back to behind the bar. Back to work, with her security operative with her, to whom she whispers that the matter was finally resolved. RE <br \/>\/span<\/span\/span>\/i<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/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: 2026-05-12 13:56 (Selene&#8217;s Tuesday afternoon odd encounter(Selene):Selene) [Tue May 12 2026] In Shorelight Cafe \/spanEdison bulbs hang from exposed beams, casting warm light over reclaimed wood tables and mismatched chairs. The bar counter runs along the southern wall, its surface worn smooth, backed by&#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-29770","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-encounterlog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29770","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=29770"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29770\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29770"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29770"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29770"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}