{"id":29882,"date":"2026-05-28T00:55:08","date_gmt":"2026-05-28T04:55:08","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2026-05-28T00:55:08","modified_gmt":"2026-05-28T04:55:08","slug":"encounter-1436","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/2026\/05\/28\/encounter-1436\/","title":{"rendered":"Axle&#8217;s Wednesday afternoon odd encounter(Regaldo)"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-05-27 12:44<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008000\">               (<\/span>Axle&#8217;s Wednesday afternoon odd encounter(Regaldo):Regaldo<span style=\"color:#008000\">)<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#008080\">        [<\/span>Wed May 27 2026<span style=\"color:#008080\">]<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#a6ceff\">O<span style=\"color:#a2cbf4\">n<span style=\"color:#9fc9ea\"> <span style=\"color:#9bc7e0\">M<span style=\"color:#98c5d6\">a<span style=\"color:#94c3cc\">p<span style=\"color:#90c1c2\">l<span style=\"color:#8cbfb9\">e<span style=\"color:#88bdaf\"> <span style=\"color:#84baa5\">S<span style=\"color:#80b89b\">t<span style=\"color:#7bb692\">r<span style=\"color:#76b488\">e<span style=\"color:#72b27e\">e<span style=\"color:#6cb074\">t<\/span\/span\/span><\/p>\n<p>It is <span style=\"color:#ffff00\">noon<\/span>, about <span style=\"color:#808000\">76<\/span>F(<span style=\"color:#808000\">24<\/span>C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.  The mist is heaviest <span style=\"color:#a6ceff\">A<span style=\"color:#a3ccf7\">t<span style=\"color:#a1cbf0\"> <span style=\"color:#9fc9e9\">B<span style=\"color:#9cc8e2\">i<span style=\"color:#9ac6db\">r<span style=\"color:#97c5d4\">c<span style=\"color:#95c3cd\">h<span style=\"color:#92c2c6\"> <span style=\"color:#8fc0bf\">a<span style=\"color:#8cbfb9\">n<span style=\"color:#8abdb2\">d<span style=\"color:#87bcab\"> <span style=\"color:#84baa4\">F<span style=\"color:#81b99d\">r<span style=\"color:#7db796\">a<span style=\"color:#7ab690\">n<span style=\"color:#77b489\">k<span style=\"color:#74b382\">l<span style=\"color:#70b17b\">i<span style=\"color:#6cb074\">n<\/span\/span\/span><\/p>\n<p>(Your target bring it fresh meat regularly, or become the next meal. The characters must decide whether to fight, negotiate, or find another way to stop the killings without becoming corrupted themselves.)<\/p>\n<p>Axle has just parked a bit up the street, headed for Ivory Quarter with weapons on him. He has just taken a moment to pause, it seems, leaning against a wall and watching people pass. <\/p>\n<p>Most would not pay a black cat riding on the shoulder of a person in the crowd as nothing out of the ordinary, though it does draw the eyes of a few passer by. The cat makes a sound and the person being used as a chariot turns off between a pair of houses. Axle might notice this as he people watches. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s new, kinda.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> mutters to himself, watching the cat and its steed travel on. With a shove, he pushes off the wall. &#8220;Wonder when it&#8217;ll go wrong.&#8221; He muses, following after the mounted feline. &#8220;Poor cat, humans make bad war mounts.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Unbeknownst to the cat as it makes another sound and it&#8217;s chariot turns down an alley, Axle is following along. Ahead of the man, and just out of site, grotesque slurping noises become apparent. No screaming. Just slurps. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;The hell?&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> slows slightly, then speeds back up, approaching the sound with evident curiosity. &#8220;Damn loud drinkers. Least of it have the decency to do it quiet.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Curiosity clearly getting the better of the man, it does kill cats. He does know this, yes? <\/p>\n<p>Rounding the corner Axle comes across a most peculiar scene. The cat is perched precariously atop it&#8217;s human mount yet the head seems to be missing as a multitude of lashing tendrils seem to be cascading down it&#8217;s poor victim. Noticing Axle, the cat&#8217;s head twists nearly off as it spins to look at the intruder, slitted red eyes narrowing harshly. &#8220;Can I help you?&#8221; rattles off inside Axle&#8217;s head like nails across a chalk board, &#8220;I&#8217;m in the middle of lunch.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> freezes as he finds the cat. Not cat? Cat like thing? That&#8217;s not his concern. What is are the tendrils. &#8220;Yeah&#8230; I, can see that, as, suppose I&#8217;d be needing to know, what the hell happened to your head? And, uh, you do know you can&#8217;t just be feeding on people out in the streets, or alleys, yeah? Just thinking that might be against a few city laws you know? Also as it might be my job to help you find some more, well, less human lunch. See my meaning?&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> stares at those tendrils, a mix of disgust, curiosity, and fear crossing his face. &#8220;Really though, what the fuck happened to the cat head?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Nonplussed at being interrupted, a minor inconvenience, the cat-not cat continues it&#8217;s meal unabated. &#8220;If you -must- know,&#8221; rattles in Axle&#8217;s head, &#8220;My head is whatever I choose it to be?&#8221; sounding more question than answer. Driving this point home the cat head finishes rotation off like a Pepsi bottle top and falls to the ground leaving a black splotch and acrid smoke in it&#8217;s wake. It is replaced by more lashing tentacles which twist together and become, of all things, a cheeseburger. The buns move as it continues to eat? Devour? Absorb? &#8211;the person beneath it. &#8220;The cat just seems to be less, off-putting? Off pudding? Mmm, pudding.&#8221; At the mention of pudding one of the tentacles sloughs off and turns into a pudding cup, sans spoon, before splatting against the ground. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Well&#8230; that&#8217;s gross.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> considers the situation. &#8220;So, are you some kind of, demon or something? The hell did you just turn that guy into a burger for? And, ah, why&#8217;d a pudding cup just&#8230; nevermind. You know, I don&#8217;t get paid enough for this shit, and I still do it.&#8221; He shakes his head. &#8220;But, you got a name? Can&#8217;t as just be saying cat looking thing.&#8221; He studies the monstrosity, then shifts so his shotgun hangs at a better angle for a sudden lift. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You can call me Harold.&#8221; rattles off inside Axle&#8217;s noggin as the cat-not cat burger pudding continues to turn the person into a puddle, slowly. &#8220;This, was a mimic. Face Stealer. Body snatcher. I do to them what they do to others, just, less so. Thing takes form of people then takes the people to do as they will. I am balance. Balance is never pretty.&#8221; the word balance dragging on for longer than it should. Sounding slimy. Dirty. Unclean. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I am what I am.&#8221; reasons the cat-not cat, the Harold. &#8220;Now, are you going to get in my way. Or are you going to help me hunt more of these? Or, are you going to stand aside? All options have outcomes.&#8221; Freakshow aside, it&#8217;s a wonder the slurping noises don&#8217;t draw a crowd but for now, they seem to go unnoticed by the general public. <\/p>\n<p>Seeing what you see and knowing what you know, you think it might be on the up and up. Probably. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Alright then.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> says after a long moment. &#8220;Uh&#8230; keep on keeping on, Harold. Good meeting you and all, and good luck with your balancing and the like.&#8221; He stares at the burger-person, looking, confused would be an understatement. &#8220;These things common? I could see if we can get some people out here helping you clean them up if you&#8217;d like.&#8221; Then, after another pause. &#8220;Do they always turn to burgers?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;No.&#8221; rattles off in Axle&#8217;s head as the cat-not cat turns the mimic&#8217;s head into a bucket of popcorn. Then a water hose. Then a teddy bear, as if to drive the point home. &#8220;Just makes it weird enough for most to think they&#8217;re seeing things and move along.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>For Vasilisa&#8217;s benefit, down an alley along Maple Street, Axle is having a moment, of sorts with a creature absorbing or some such form thereof to another person. No one else seems to pay it any attention. <\/p>\n<p>upon spotting Axle, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa<\/span> bounces over to him, with a bright &#8220;Hii, ax!&#8221; she pauses upon noticing the man&#8217;s state, with a tilt of her head. &#8220;Are you high?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;In New Haven? Fair enough.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> admits, taking a slow step back from the shifting thing. &#8220;They, filling? I never ate a mimic, so&#8230;&#8221; He trails off, staring at The Harold again. &#8220;Weird fucking sight, a cat with tentacles.&#8221; Then, noting Vasilisa, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> comments &#8220;I&#8217;m damn sure hoping so, because this is some weird shit.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>A grotesque burp leaves the Herold as the person, former person, it was nomming on is nothing but knees and elbows. It flops wetly against the pavement for a brief moment only to gobble up the rest and turn back into a cat. &#8220;Filling. Eh, maybe if they were more plentiful.&#8221; echoes in Axle&#8217;s head, and now Vasilisa&#8217;s, sounding akin to nails on a chalkboard with her approaching. &#8220;So,&#8221; the noise pauses while the cat-not cat cleans it&#8217;s paws, &#8220;Are you here to get in my way?&#8221; it wonders with a red-eyed glance spared for Axle and Vasilisa in turn. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;A cat with tenticles?&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa<\/span> squints, before her eyes go wide. &#8220;Do you think it likes pets? or hugs?&#8221; despite her airhead effect however, the woman subtly shifts her stance, a petite hand hovering near her wrist launcher for her karambit, while the other holds up a dainty perfume bottle. the nozzle however, is angled outward. &#8220;It would depend! first you&#8217;d need to tell us what you want, right?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Nope.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> reassures The Harold, taking another step back. &#8220;Keep doing the good work. Uh, just don&#8217;t do it near my head, yeah?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;What I want?&#8221; echoes to the pair curiously, the final word wavering as it gives a Chesire grin, &#8220;Is to eat. To live. To make plenty.&#8221; As the two seem to not be choosing violence, the Harold stretches with it&#8217;s tail curling briefly only for it to start to saunter over towards Vasilisa, &#8220;You two seem to have chosen well. So, I shall continue to hunt in this town, yes?&#8221; the cat-not cat moves to nuzzle against Vasilisa&#8217;s leg, even lashing her leg with it&#8217;s tail before turning back towards the street, &#8220;We&#8217;ll meet again. Probably.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Uh&#8230; yeah.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> nods after the departing The Harold. &#8220;See you around, The Harold. Keep it up. Balance is, good. Real good.&#8221; He shoots a glance to Vasilisa, mouthing a silent &#8216;what the fuck&#8217;. <\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa&#8217;s<\/span> eyes go wide as she holds Axle&#8217;s gaze, but the smile to the cat is bright, warm, the woman barely showing a reaction to the slimy appendage. &#8220;See, I was about to make an argument that&#8217;d interest you!&#8221; she says brightly, holding a hand out to the herald. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh?&#8221; echoes between the pair as the Harold&#8217;s attention is captured. The head of the cat-not cat twists unnaturally around to look at Vasilisa&#8217;s hand then to the woman in particular. &#8220;What is it? What is it?! WHAT IS IT?!?!&#8221; curiously comes growing louder at more desperate as the thing draws closer, tentacles sprouting from it&#8217;s back to twist up the woman&#8217;s leg. <\/p>\n<p>with a giggle, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa<\/span> drops down to a kneal, arms wrapping around the not cat. &#8220;Well you see, when I was a kid, My&#8230;. Dad. got me a kitten for my 13th birthday.&#8221; she gently strokes along the tentacles. &#8220;We Called her Koshka, which is just Cat in Russian, but all of us are bad at naming things, but anyway! you see, Koshka loved a challenge. the challenge of the hunt specifically. and I think you enjoy that, don&#8217;t you?&#8221; she lets her fingers glide along the cat&#8217;s form. &#8220;See, the city for that&#8217;s boring. The humans there are already scared, as a large number of them live under the 63rd legeon. but the other though, that has challenges for you that would make the hunt fun, and not just a thing you have to do to live.&#8221; she winks, leaning down ever so. &#8220;Also, if we meet again, I&#8217;d want to know if a pixie actually tastes like pancakes! or if a mycanid can be turned into truffel risotto.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Your looking for culinary advice.&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> deadpans to Vasilisa, staring. &#8220;I, don&#8217;t even know if The Harold&#8230; do you even prepare them? Looked like you just started sucking.&#8221; This last part is directed to The Harold. &#8220;Which, can&#8217;t blame you if you starve from these things hiding from you.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>It would seem the Harlod was not expecting the cat treatment as it&#8217;s gently petted and spoken to. &#8220;The other, you say?&#8221; wonders between the pair as the cat-not cat&#8217;s tentacles retract into it&#8217;s form, &#8220;Think there are plenty of mimics for me there? And other things? Pixies?&#8221; the latter dragging on for far longer than it should, ending in a sizzling type of sound. &#8220;You show me to this other?&#8221; wonders as it vanishes only to appear on Vasilisa&#8217;s shoulder, precariously perched just so. <\/p>\n<p>Axle seems to relax&#8230; then, he stiffens, turning to look at his shoulder. Then back to Vasilisa. To his shoulder. And back again. &#8220;Ah hell.&#8221; He shakes his head. &#8220;Now you look high.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh absolutely!&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa<\/span> says, tilting her head to lean against the not cat. &#8220;The other&#8217;s famos for all sorts of things.&#8221; she turns to Axle with her eyes wide. &#8220;Of course I am. Look, if you were hungry, and had all the boring options, you&#8217;d settle for ramen, right? without much chance to make a tonkatsu, or a pho! but here, our friend here, wouldn&#8217;t have to settle for boring old ramen!&#8221; with that, she pulls up elysia on her phone, holding the picture for a gate up towards the not cat. &#8220;look for one of these! and you can slip right through!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The pair of you may notice the alley brightening some with the sound of a cat&#8217;s mew off towards the street. Riding by on the shoulder of a seemingly random passer by is a innocuous black cat. Then another passes the mouth of the alley. Then another. Red eyes all rounding on the both of you as they pass. &#8220;I will keep that in mind.&#8221; echoes in the minds of both along with a faint chuckle that fades as suddenly as the mist. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Byeee! you can always drop by to say hi!&#8221; <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Vasilisa<\/span> calls out, lashes lowering to give Axle a wink. once the mist clears, she tags the killings in her news feed as a priority, in hopes that the killings have gone down. <\/p>\n<p>Staring after the fading mew, <span style=\"color:#ffffff\">Axle<\/span> swallows hard. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know what that was.&#8221; He tells Vasilisa. &#8220;But it was terrifying.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Thanks for playing. Feel free to head down at your leisure or speak amongst yourselves. <br \/><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/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: 2026-05-27 12:44 (Axle&#8217;s Wednesday afternoon odd encounter(Regaldo):Regaldo) [Wed May 27 2026] On Maple Street It is noon, about 76F(24C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. The mist is heaviest At Birch and Franklin (Your target bring it fresh meat regularly,&#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-29882","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-encounterlog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29882","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=29882"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29882\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29882"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29882"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29882"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}