Christina Eberhart-Taroni's Story

“Just lift her, Maddie. It’ll be faster.” Christina glanced around nervously, expecting their location to be uncovered any minute now, especially with Rafael’s dramatic exit. “And just give me a second.” She ran to the car and cast again, protecting the interior before conjuring a sheet. The last, especially, pulled at her reserves and she caught herself against the door. “Let’s just get out of here. Quickly.”

The sorceress took Madison’s suggestion and shifted the stuff in the back to make room for both herself and the cryptid, then settled in. She was still eavesdropping on thoughts as well, and she drew out her phone once more, sending Oren and Issac a few updates on Spire and Toby before they sped out of range. “Yeah, there were a few issues…” she looked at Madison. “I’ll complain later, when it’s a better time, though.” As she spoke her hands moved up to rub at her temples.

At Christina’s suggestion, Madison paused, taking his own look around before giving a short nod. Before he could reply to his coworker, however, the sound of a gasp caught his attention. Glancing back over at the cryptid, he quickly found that her condition has worsened; it appeared that she couldn’t even move at this point, and her organs seemed close to falling out entirely.

“Well,” he began, “it looks like that’s not much of an option now.” Turning back to face the cryptid, Madison offered yet another soft smile, taking a few steps before lowering himself to the ground. “If your blood happens to be acidic, now would be a good time to tell me,” he warned, albeit with an amount of lightness that did not befit the situation.

Carefully, carefully, Madison reached out and tucked both hands under the creature- one hand beneath her back, the other tucked neatly under her legs- stooping a little more to get a better grip on her. Attempting not to jostle the poor cryptid even further, the researcher brought her into his arms before standing and walking back to the car.

As he placed the cryptid upon the sheet and walked back to the driver’s seat, Madison continued to speak, directing his words back to Christina as he moved about. “I’d tell you to go ahead and talk about it on the way back,” a pause as he turned the closed the door, turning the ignition in the next movement, “but I’m not sure whether you’d want to bring it up, given our company.”

After all, while the creature had been around the entire time, there could easily be information that was better left silent for now. Walls having ears and all that. Musing on the concept, Madison pushed down on the pedal and began to drive, taking the road back to the safehouse.

<Test>

As soon as the car rolled to a halt, Christina swung out of the door, releasing her grip on the handle as soon as she had her balance. She unlocked the door to the safehouse and walked into the hall.

“We need the medical bay!” she warned loudly, wondering which of his coworkers had made it back in the failure circus their mission had become. Hell, the superiors were probably waiting to pounce on them for messing up…

Pushing the thought away, she went back to hold the door open so Madison could carry the injured cryptid into their hideaway without injuring it any further. That wouldn’t probably get them into even more trouble and the thought of more trouble than what she’d get just for being present made her want to squirm.

“Come on!” she called to Madison, then turned her head back towards the house. “And can someone come clean the car?” or hold doors, she guessed, either would work fine.

Oren arrived at the safehouse in the way one might expect from Oren.

With hostility.

As soon as they were at the door she was off inside, a fistful of tissue paper pressed against the gashes in her face as she strode through to the house, past Christina and through to the medical room where she went straight to Montana.

"Where the fuck did you go?!" she exclaimed.
"The mission went to shit! We've got a half dead cryptid and no space for it! I was there as one of the research department and I ended up being the one who got everyone out of there. You pissed off without a trace, Rafael is fucking useless, and Issac threw hissy fit because I told him not to KILL the cryptid! An unarmed, severely injured fucking cryptid! What kind of SAVAGES do you have in your department?!

Then Rafael has the nerve to try and order me to deal with Longbow, another of the field operatives' departments neanderthals, who has somehow gotten himself turned. Because obviously the best use for someone who has spent the last THIRTY YEARS studying cryptobiology is to fetch and carry for some idiot mortal who can't even master as basic a concept as 'don't wander off alone with a vampire, a creature whose main hunting method is biting people who wander off alone with it!'

The next time Wyndham gets me on a field mission it'll be because I'd died and you need to use my decaying corpse as bait for a werewolf. That was a fucking disaster."

The researcher paused to glance over at Lulu for a moment.

"And I'm not even going to ask what this is about, but we need the room."

“Actually, I think we should save that job as a punishment,” Madison commented cheerfully, turning to pick the crypid up once again before approaching the safehouse. “Would definitely teach them a lesson, don’t you think?”

As expected of the vampire, he maintained his breezy demeanour in spite of sporting large, bright green patches of ooze upon the front of his dress, and having spent the past several minutes attempting to drive as carefully over speed-bumps as possible. He opened the door handle with his fingertips in favor of waiting for someone to open it for him, slipping inside once the gap was widened to his satisfaction.

Instead of marching right on through like Oren, however, Madison smiled at his coworkers as he passed by. “Kora, Phoebe, boys,” he greeted calmly, as if he were merely carrying around bags of groceries instead of a dying cryptid.

Upon reaching the medical bay, he was surprised to find that it was already quite filled. Not only were several of his fellow SCION agents already there, but so was an unfamiliar woman, laid out on one of the cots. Their attention did not seem to be on the stranger, however, but on each other.

It looked like his fellow vampires were quite irate at the moment.

“Oh, let her rant, Alex. From the sound of it, a lot of them have been having a rough day.” Speaking with nothing short of familiarity, Madison continued into the bay, pausing to place the cryptid gingerly upon a cot before turning back to the gathered.

“Besides, while I’m not an expert on these sort of things, I don’t think arguing while someone has their insides falling out is good bedside manner.”

Sometime during the initial interrogation of Lulu Crystal had slipped away. The blood on her hands and clothing making her feel nauseated and bring up painful memories. The heat and noise of the shower as she scrubbed herself clean of the blood was therapeutic, and took her mind off the mission at hand. Or it did until the sound of screaming carried through the building and into the house.

With a sigh Crystal stepped out of the shower and changed into a new set of clothing before heading off to see what the comotion was about. Once she saw all the blood, another half dead person in the room she promptly got out of the way and went to the living room.

Beneath the smell of blood she could smell the sweet scent of pizza. Darting over to the box, Crystal grabbed a slice of meat pizza before darting away. She had no desire to be be near the person holding the box. Instead Crystal moved towards the other rookies in the room who must have arrived during her shower excursion.

"So uhh how did your questioning go? We found a vampire attacked by a werewolf pack and she mentioned something about green blood. So were pretty sure she knows something about the thing in the morgue." Said thing seemed to currently be in the house as the smell of it's putrid blood was unmistakable.

Even as she spoke more people enter the living room and a familiar scent hit her nose. Her eyes feel on Spire starring at the man for a moment before turning back to the two 'children'. As she spoke to them she slowly moved to a position where they were in-between her and the newest wolf entering the building.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fel's eyes popped open as shouting and urge to heal pain started accompanied by her own pain. Shaking as she got up, Fel limped over to her back up wheel chair in the room. Exerting a ton of effort she managed to wheel the thing to the medical bay where a new wave pain washed over her.

Reaching out Fel touched Orren with a shaking hand trying to get the doctor's attention and healing her at the same time. "Arc got turned? Is he here? What happened? I think some vampire used some type of mind control because he started killed people."

Her hands shook more than they should and she started feeling nausea on top of the pain. This sickness was more than something caused by the wounds she had received something was wrong, very wrong. Focusing through the haze she eyed the person Madison was holding, instead of the urge to heal the person she was hit with a repulsion.

Her instincts took over and without realizing it Fel rolled her wheel chair away from Madison and the creature. Her own voice was loud and uncharacteristically cold "Let it die."

Fel blinked as if her own words surprised her, she felt guilty. Fel loved everyone vampires, werewolves, mages, and humans. Yet this one creature made her feel sick and want to run away. It was a confusing set of emotions to deal with.

" Spire, Toby, I'll not ask for your weapons , but I will ask that we keep everything civilized, Please?" He asked before getting out of the Van, which had been parked around the back of the Safe house building in a somewhat hidden spot. Issac went a head and pulled out his multi tool01 heading to the back of the van. He removed the license plate and placed it in the back of the van.
He didn't want some police officer to pass by and notice the stolen car, so he took the plate from his rental car and placed it on the van. His rental car could be explained off simply, the van, not so much. Satisfied with his work he went to the safe-house.

Issac marched in behind Oren, wearing his regular passive yet stern expression, ignoring Oren's complains against him. She didn't provide any leadership and blew his suggestion out of proportion, but she was a doctor and probably hadn't been in a situation were cutting off a dead limb would serve better than hanging onto the hope of keeping it. He didn't hold it against her. Issac gave a wave to Alexander and the others. " We've got guest of our own." Issac said with a nod behind him, then gave Alex a warning expression, just for a split second. Not that it was needed Alex tended to error on the side of caution more than not from what little Issac knew of him. He'd not have to worry about Spire or Toby here. Out numbered and out gunned.

Issac paused for a moment seeing Lulu, an eye brow arced in surprise, then offered a smile and a nod as a greeting before heading into the 'Living' room. The smell of food hit him like a piano dropped from a 5 story building. He darted over and swiped a slice before heading off to find a spot to sit down. He'd have to talk to folks in a bit but currently he just wanted to stay out of the medical groups way, after all he only had extensive training in field medical and with Oren and Lovette here there was no need for his skills.

Issac debated on what to do about Arc. He was relatively alone right now facing who knew what. Like or dislike he was part of the group, and more importantly... He knew a good bit about SCION that didn't need to get out, to anyone. He didn't seem to notice the rookies in the room. His mind was busy.

Issac sighed, taking the three brass casings from his pocket and rattled them like dice in his hands. Was he really going to have to be that asshole who kept loose ends tied...? Issac's guarded expression didn't hold up like it normally did...

Before Lulu could respond, a sudden rush of tense voices and new scents assaulted her all at once. People were charging in. Someone was shouting, and being rebuffed, and had a snide remark about her. “Charmed,” she muttered, but she was certain the comment was whisked away by the noise. There were too many people in the little room, with more in the house elsewhere, and now there were… one, two… three? The vampires aside from herself, and one was cross-dressed, and in his arms was—

Lulu bolted upright in the cot and braced herself against the dizzying consequences of the motion by gripping the side of the mattress.



That was not right. 



She should not have been there. That girl— the green-blooded, reeking, days-long-dead girl— should not have been there. 



For the first time in decades, Lulu was firmly regretting the mess she had stepped into over a contract.



With a wince and a jerking motion, she yanked first the IV tube, and then the needle out of her arm. The skin tore from the abruptness, but knitted itself back together quickly enough that no severe amount of blood was lost.

She stared at the scene taking place beside the other cot, and her glazed expression evaporated into something between concern and befuddlement. She had too many questions, and there was too much arguing going on to answer any of them. 

The organization was starting to feel more like a carnival by the second.

“What the Hell?” she asked, eyes darting between the various people in the room. “What the Hell?” Her stare settled on Montana for a moment, shining with something she wasn’t sure whether or not to disclose. 

The situation had grown beyond what she had prepared for.



She made up her mind, hoping the choice was the right one. “That’s her,” she said firmly, nodding toward the bleeding half-corpse. “She was dead. Days ago. I examined her body.” 



The thing was putrid to look at and share a room with, with a stench that made the vampire’s stomach turn. “She shouldn’t be here. She was dead and...” With that, Lulu shoved herself forward to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. 

She took two steps toward the creature, but only two: The momentum of her initial motion failed just feet from the bed and her legs gave out like rubber under the effect of the painkillers, and she tumbled toward the ground.

"Scout's honor," said Spire to Issac pleasantly. He had definitely never been a boyscout. Toby had, though. It probably counted.

Spire and Toby exited the car and shared a glance. Spire could catch the scent of vampires and wolves mingling from the doorway.

"A lot," Toby said to Spire's unasked question. A lot of cryptids in there. It made Toby uneasy and Spire suspicious. But they weren't taking their weapons. And this was not only an opportunity to check out these curiosities, this was their lead on the murders. Toby cared enough about the deaths to stifle his unease. And Spire was intrigued enough by this organization to stifle his suspicion. So into the safe house they went, Spire taking the lead, until they found an open place in the room to stand and observe.

The scent of numerous bleeding cryptids and painkillers and...pizza.

"This is quite a gathering," Spire remarked, just as Lulu toppled--quite near him. He probably could have caught her. He didn't even blink. "I can't say I've crashed a more interesting party than this one."

He returned the eye contact of the girl who seemed so curious about him. She was a wolf, he identified without Toby's help. He saw how she avoided him, so he made a point of meeting her eyes now and again, to make her uncomfortable--it was very Spire-like to begin with, but also almost instinctual: the lone wolf, to make the pack-bound pup squirm.

Montana turned to nod in response to Alexander's observation. They were back, and from the sound of their voices, urgent in action rather then frantic. Meaning they had likely escaped with without suffering further casualties. Christina's request wasn't met with any urgency on his part. It assume any number of operatives outside would hold the doors, and he certainly would not be cleaning the car. What Montana was more interested in now, was how their eminent Private Eye, Lady Lulu. would respond to discovering the 'deceased' creature from earlier on in her investigation was very much alive. Before all that however, he was sure there was someone else who would be speaking to him very, very soon. Someone who was probably very keen on sharing their opinion on his recent choice of action. Montana was a thing of the wild and he could sense the coming storm as it approached, it trigger a sixth sense honed by a decade of working for SCION.

Hell hath no fury like an Oren scorned. The first expletive was the pressure drop before the full torrential downpour, complete with Oren force winds. Montana's face was largely expressionless, save for a moment widening of his eyes as she transitioned from berating the first team, to the debacle he had been involved with personally. As Oren's rant came to a close, Montana decided to wait before he responded to her understandable outburst.

He had planned to let Oren's words settle in the air for a few moments before responding, and Alexander's interjection allowed him the few moments he wanted to take before opening his mouth. The Elder Vampires retort was measured, and on some level, an easier way to deal with their current situation for the emotionally detached like himself and the vampire.

On the other hand, festering emotions, much like the wound on Oren's face, were at times better dealt with in the present rather then the future. Along with any lingering doubts the rest of his team had.

"I will explain my actions and reasons, there won't be an argument. Welcome to York. " His eyes moved over to Madison, then back to Oren's orbs of brimstone.

He decided to wait before he continued, the sound of Fel's wheelchair, (he'd need to take a look at it, it shouldn't be making much sound at all) prompted him to wait before continuing. She was awake, but shouldn't be moving around as much as she was. He'd likely escort her back to her room once he was finished here. She had briefly touched on what Montana was going to say, he planned to elaborate.

What she said once their words ceased coinciding, was the very last thing he expected to hear out of her mouth.

It was one of the few things that could've cut through his natural poker face generally, much less the context of their current conversation.

Let it die.

This uncharacteristic hostility caused Montana brows to very noticeably crease for a short time after Fel spoke. The Fallen were an enigmatic species yes, their very descent to earth would kill anything that lived on earth, yet here they were, living among them. Kindness seemed to be ingrained in their very physiology, manifesting in the ability to heal other creatures, and here she was.

Let it die.

It was so jarring, it overshadowed Lulu's reaction to seeing the Cryptid, noted, but overshadowed.

It was when her shaking form left the bed that his intense thought process was halted. Most things happened in slow motion for the man, this was no different. No movement was wasted in the fluidity of his motion. Instead of grabbing her, he positioned his body so she'd fall against his chest first, while his left arm curled against her back, careful to avoid her more grievous wound. His right arm did the same.

"Yes."

She was light, barely anything in his arms.

"I believe your deceased woman re animated during the autopsy."

"I do not doubt your examination was thorough, she, and I apologize, I don't know your name madam, seems to be able survive without her body needing the constant flow of life like ours do."

"Pardon me Lady Lulu."

Montana's right arm moved down to the backs of her legs, and he lifted her up, and gently placed her back onto the cot.

"We will be moving you out momentarily. Oren."

'Oren' was said sharply, a finely honed dagger thrust squarely into the abdomen, almost like he was trying to divert her, very suddenly from an expected path.

"Oren." His voice now was stern, but had lost the initial jab of his first utterance of her name.

"I had reason to believe operation being handled by our missing operative had gone awry, and being an operative who specializes in solo ops, I felt I was the best equipped to handle a potentially dangerous, and completely unknown situation."

"Upon arrival, I found nine dead vampires, slain by our operative and Fel injured and unresponsive."

"I disposed of the bodies and vacated the premisses with Fel before local law arrived on the scene. Said operative opted to track a vampire he had spoken to I assume, prior to the assault."

Montana paused.

"I made a call, if you or the others found it unsatisfactory I've got no issue with taking it to our superiors."

"That aside, I'd like to tend to that wound on your face Oren dear, possibly take a tissue sample before, handling our new guest as you are could lead to further complications."

Instinctively, Madison had stepped forth to catch their new guest, but returned to his original position upon seeing that Montana had taken care of her. A good thing, too; in hindsight, smearing a stranger in someone else’s- rather peculiar- bodily fluids did not tend to be smiled upon.

And, at any rate, it allowed the weight of Fel’s exclamation to fully hit him.

Madison was a cryptid behaviorlogist. He had studied many species, interviewing them, getting to know them, and documenting all of his findings away for later study. Fallen were a type he knew well. They were peaceful, they were kind, and they most certainly did not recoil away from wounded, a scathing remark of “Let it die” on the healers’ lips.

Something was wrong- it was an anomaly, a reaction unheard of in Fallen- in Fel.

He would definitely have to speak to her after this, but not now. There were more pressing matters to attend to, after all.

At Montana’s and Fel’s recounting of what had occurred, Madison bit back a comment of “called it”, instead wringing his hands thoughtfully. He had had a sneaking suspicion that Arc was a sociopath, after all, and fully expected that what drove him was not mind control at all.

Madison wondered if he should have made any bets with anyone beforehand, or if that would have been considered too unprofessional.

Instead of voicing his thoughts on the events surrounding the White Rose, the vampire instead nodded, swinging his arms at his sides. “We all thought that she was dead, but good news is that she’s not quite there yet,” Madison chirped. “But, now, then,”

The researcher turned on his heel once more, gesturing over to Spire, Toby, and Lulu in one sweeping movement. “Since we’re going out and explaining what happened, would anyone care to tell me who are lovely guests are? I’m a bit late to the party, unfortunately, but I’m assuming that the miss is involved with the case?”

Then, as an afterthought, Madison added, “Oh, nice to meet you three, by the way. Sorry about all the ruckus around here.”

“Actually, I would say she’s acting like you were gonna kill the cryptid we were specifically instructed to keep alive.” Christina, who had cleaned the car and released the door by now, had been effectively eavesdropping on the entire house with the mental charm that had yet to wear off. As she’d worked, she’d bristled in Oren’s defense but had been outside and the vampire had defended herself well enough anyway. She liked Oren, she really did, because the elder researcher often voiced exactly what Christina was thinking without even trying to soften the blow.

The news about Arcuturus was a shock, especially that he’d been turned as she’d been under the impression that humans were given training to specifically avoid that. Sorcerers were, she knew for sure… Maybe SCION didn’t quite mind changing a few humans because vampires were so much more durable? Her anger at Roderic faded away as he explained his own abandonment, and in hindsight, she could interpret his parting words to say just that. What? The sorceress had never claimed to be good at hidden messages.

Most of her coworkers were oozing their own brands of overconfidence and arrogance, and all she wanted to do was go in and ask Alexander: if Oren was being unprofessional, what word was he going to use for the other lapses in protocol they’d experienced today?

Although Fel’s was the greatest shock.

Something that inspired instinctual (and that was the kicker in all this really) hatred in Fallen was something to communicate to Madison as soon as possible.

That had been where she’d been heading when she “heard” Issac and Alexander’s supposed-to-be-secret conversation. And she’d stopped to eavesdrop because this team had enough communication issues as it was, and keeping secrets wasn’t helping (She conveniently brushed aside the thought of the trust issues her action might inspire instead).

“And you know…” she added casually, locking eyes with the elder vampire. “What we researchers do is come up with ways to keep you alive. We are all useful”

" Don't get confused between knowing a force and knowing what they have deployed.... but then again that advice was given to me by Solomon who had fought nothing but skirmishes and pitched battles" he said before waving a hand dismissively. Issac seemed intent of going to help Arc, not that he could be blamed, it was a natural reaction. Even to go as far as to attempt to redress one of his other concerns.

Hearing him comment about Oren though made Alexander sigh " Don't worry about her,It will be a simple case of looking at your reports later.... In the mean time i don't see any reasons why you shouldn't go to retrieve Arc.. exercise extreme caution.. As for the field op i will leave the choice up to you... The guests however i am not sure they will view Arc in the same light as you... but you seem to know these boys its your call"

" Go speak with those you plan on taking and then try and get a sit-rep from Alihambra before you leave" His timing in planning to dismiss Issac was fortuitous as he brought his gaze upon Christina, Alexander initial reaction was just to raise his brow as he took a moment just to simply stare." Is there something you wish to discuss my dear?...or are you just concerned for this old mans memory?" Alex knew the implications behind her words, but he was not interested in chasing veiled meanings from his colleagues, though he would always offer them the chance to speak plainly with him.

Issac gave Christana a look of irritation before turning back to Alexander to finish hearing him out.

" Alright I will deal with that then. Discreet as possible. just to be clear, R.O.E for other cryptics would be a " don't fire unless fired upon" situation. I will ask Stride to come with me, but we will need someone to provide a bit more assistance. "

He turned to Christina , he was tired of being called an unethical killer, He gave her a measured look, locking eyes with her.
" Actually no, There was no "order" to keep that thing alive. You and Oren Assumed because Lovvette was called in that we had to keep it alive. I simply asked if we needed to because the only information I had about that thing was it was suppose to be dead, and then attacked a co-worker of ours . 'You' and Oren both made an assumption that it wasn't hostile. You two got lucky plain and simple. What if that bio-hazard team had been waiting at the base of the chute? What if the chute had lead to a corpse pit that only opened from the outside? What happens if it lead to an incinerator ? If that thing had attacked Oren when she went down the chute you'd be dead right now right along with her. I might be paranoid , but that doesn't mean shit like that doesn't happen. " He sighed a bit hearing him self and decided to tone it down, taking a more civilized tone instead of jabbing at her.

" I will apologize for being an ass hat, but I won't apologize for trying to find the most effective way of getting as many of our people back home safely as possible. yes, I got pissed when I was basically told to fuck off by a researcher who pretending to be a field operative. I don't pretend to know or understand how things work in a lab, I simply sit there and do exactly what is asked of me so that I don't mess anything up and wished I could be given the same courtesy" He softened his tone more.

" So what ever issue you have with me can sit by the way side until we finish this mess. You can file a complaint against me and be done with me for the rest of your time at SCION, but right now we have someone who is wounded stuck out there. " His expression changed from something tight to a look of real concern. " and honestly I don't think I can get him back here with out your help safely."

“Not discuss, exactly, more like point out.” Christina told the vampire pleasantly enough. “After all, you’ve been around for so many years that some things must have been shoved into those little corners where you never really look… But it’s not just you, I’ll bring it up later.”

She returned Issac’s look with an equal one of her own, but it was his words that she found she could not let go. “Oh, right, how could I forget?” she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms. “Clearly, Madison can study the behaviour of an immobile, inactive, non-living cryptid. It’s not like living creatures are his area, no, I really don’t know why he can’t get more information on the Fallen, with all those bodies we have lying in the infirmary! And maybe Oren studied the building plans before we arrived, like you should have, and I’ll forgive you for being in denial but I could fucking hear the damned thoughts of the biohazard team! No, they weren’t under the chute, they were guarding the main entrance! And what kind of hospital has a ‘body pit’?” she threw up her hands in exasperation. “They have morgues, which which we were already in!” Her eyes were narrowed as she shook her head, the air around her crackling with magical energy as her temper rose. “And maybe, if the field operatives we were with weren’t fucking useless, Oren would not have had to pretend to be one! We have Alihambra, who seems to have been trying to sabotage his own team, then we have Roderic, who flounced off to save our healer from yet another useless member of your department while you, Schofield, the only guard we had left, decide that you want to shoot a thing instead of I don’t know, being somehow helpful?!”

She finished her rant, breathing hard, and that was when she heard him complain about not receiving courtesy. “What courtesy?” she asked lowly. “The courtesy where everything Oren does is treated like the act of Satan? The courtesy where you make me feel substandard just because I can do magic? How about you stop only showing courtesy to those you have a crush on, and I’ll respect you in return!”

Her hand swung through the air in the next second, creating a force field for the express purpose of slapping him across the face while she fled up the stairs. The sound of her door slamming resounded through the house, while inside the room the silencing field went up and the sorceress collapsed on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest, and tried to fight back her increasingly hysterical response to the day’s events.

Not even a minute later, a certain hybrid had sauntered in, as casual as if it was just a normal day around base, where no one was at each other’s throats- at least, not more than they usually were. Her voice reflected this, smooth, with the usual undertone of snark going along with it.

“The hell you’d do to piss her off so much? Could hear her yellin’ from five rooms over, there.” Of course, that was a bit of an overstatement; Stride had merely been passing through the halls at the time, having left the medical bay shortly after determining that she had no real use there. After all, the most medical knowledge she had was regarding the basics of “do this, and keep your small intestine from slipping out of you like undercooked pasta”. Her contributions would most likely, just result in her getting in the way of people with some semblance of what to do.

Besides, there were still a few things that needed to be taken care of, and it was through this reasoning that Stride progressed through the halls, towards the room she had last seen Issac enter. As such, it didn’t take much effort on her part to pick up on the frustrated shouting from a certain sorceress, catch sight of her storming off to who-knew-where. While others may have gone after her in pursuit, Stride wasn’t one for honeyed words and comforts, and, as such, chose not to follow.

The risk of Christina lashing out at her for her efforts was somewhat of a factor, as well, so she was content to merely go about doing things as she usually would.

As things stood, it wouldn’t hurt much to ask what in cold hell he had been doing.

Oren accepted the treatment from Montana without a lot of comment, less out of distaste for it and more out of concentration as she worked, hoping to try and deal with the mess made of the creature.


She didn't know for certain how her system reacted to things, so she was aware on some level that any chemical was, potentially, an issue, but she would assume that the nervous system must work much the same if the way she'd expressed pain was any indication, and, frankly, leaving her completely aware of the whole thing whilst she was reaching round in her insides was simply inhumane and besides, they needed to do at least something about the blood loss, and a transfusion was not on the cards, so Oren had Madison go fetch a few things.

SCION research worked on a lot of things, and whilst projects did not always reach their intended goals, Oren's ongoing mission for efficiency did mean that all discoveries were put to use. For instance, her research into perfluorocarbons as an artificial blood source for vampires.

The substance she developed, when dissolved in water, had turned out not to be adequate for a vamp, but had been re-purposed into a means of providing a viable oxygen-carrying blood substitute. Something that could be used for transfusions without the issue of blood type and potential rejection....very useful when you had a number of different species around. She didn't have much with her, but it was enough to work with. Oren was always prepared.

With some help from the vampire she set up an IV and Oren started measuring out some chemicals from her case. One, PFC solution, two, morphine. Her gaze flickered over to Toby for a moment.
"Start trying to pull out any bullet fragments you can find. It's all kind of a mess but I'd like not to leave too much in there." she explained as she got everything set up.

Fortunately, the painkillers seemed to work, and took effect pretty quickly, as the cryptid seemed to relax, muscles no longer tense. Her functioning hand unclenched from the fist it had formed, and her head lolled over to one side, blood-chocked silvery hair spilling across the table.

From this, Oren started the real work, beginning to carefully untangle the grisly mess beneath the bandages.

She worked carefully, disentangling cloth and blood and bone and organic matter and setting everything into proper place. Fortunately, impressively, nothing seemed to have ruptured or torn. Evenso, it was a lot of work.

There was some shouting and the sound of someone running upstairs and slamming one of the doors, but Oren gave it little attention, as by then she was concentrating hard on the task at hand, blood leeching up her sleeve and eyes down. The researcher was in the zone and had no intention of becoming distracted.

"Montana, if you want to be helpful could you first please stop any fighting going on, and secondly could you try and get through to the officers about this clusterfuck."

Toby, recovering from a bit of surprise that Oren so readily consented to letting him help, stepped forward, jerking out of the sleeves of his blazer with mild difficulty, exposing his sweatervest and the two holstered glocks. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a pair of long tweezers--the sort of skinny ones--and poised himself above the creature's shoulder, where the bullet fragments had torn the flesh. The close proximity to the sensation of dark, old magic made him want to gag as much as the grisly, inhuman sight of the wounds did. On top of it, emotional and physical sensation tended to bleed through, especially when he got close--like when he set his hand near the bullet wound to brace and steady. But he drank it in, searching for a clearer reading as he carefully inserted the stainless steal prongs into the revolting, green injury to remove a fragment.

Real life "Operation."

"You weren't always like this, where you?" he mused softly as he did his best to find the hard fragments in the soft flesh, a measure of pity tempering his revulsion when he forced himself to look at her face.


Spire, meanwhile, listened to the ongoing argument with his arms crossed and his eyes half-lidded. About when Christina stormed off was when he couldn't take it anymore. He laughed. Quietly at first, and then harder.

"That would be useful, Mr. Montana," he said, picking up on Oren's comment. "The amount of drama in this room is getting a little suffocating. Look, I gather your 'mission' seems to have taken a dive, but if you've all finished finger-pointing and raising petty defenses and throwing tantrums, I don't suppose anyone would be interested in working out what you've actually learned and what you intend to do next? I'm getting a tad bored of the...clearly deep-seated interpersonal issues, but something practical, that. That I'm very interested to hear. I'm not sure exactly what you people are after, but Toby and I have done a bit of prodding around already, ourselves, and we'd just assume get back to prodding around if you all need some time for group therapy."

Bait for information exchange placed, he looked expectantly from one cryptid to the next. Impossible to tell who was in charge, here, or he'd look at that person.

When you work with people as long as you did, their personality quirks became something you either appreciated, accepted, or hated. Oren's manner of speaking, and overall nature didn't bother Montana. Her results, and aptitude for her work made her a valuable ally, and the odd rant, and her generally dismissive nature, was just part of the persona that produced results for his agency, and by proxy himself.

"I've already sent a message explaining our situation to need to know minds." Blessed are the peacekeepers, and Montana often served as a peacekeeper, but from the looks of things the situation had dried up, with one operative, (Christina he believed, he could tell by the sound of her footfalls,) slamming her doors in response to the exchange that happened below.

So, he'd put Lulu into a safe room, one of the cleaner ones uninhabited by his fellows and their choices of hygiene, and guard her. Or, if anyone was available, leave them in charge so he could set up the meeting, then try to ease his co workers mind.

There was also the business with Arcturus, which Montana wanted wrapped up as /quickly/ as possible.

He wasn't cleaning the van under any circumstances.

Spire's voice moved through the air with a smirk and a beckon. Montana's dark eyes settled on Spire's grey. The contrast wasn't only in colour. There was no hint of humor in the coal blacks.

"I'll review what information is suitable as per our agreement, and share it with you. After an organized information exchange with my fellow operatives. Anything else is outside of what I assured I'd provide"

The expression on Montana's face was settled, void of any recognizable emotion, but not unfriendly. A boat floating in a dead lake.

"I'll extend the same blessing I did earlier today, if you wish to continue your investigation alone, you are free to do so."

These brothers were a different sort then Lady Lulu, who made a business out of the information she gathered. Her morality, good or bad was irrelevant at this stage. At least when it came to exchanging information. These two were most likely different, given what he had read on their file. Doing this work out of a sense of duty, perhaps revenge mixed in as the right kind of fuel. The one he was speaking with now, Spire, was very obviously a predatory creature, who would sway the power between them, albeit subtly, as much as he could. He'd deal with them differently because of this.

His message was simple. You'll get what I share. If you wish me to share more? You'll talk. I'll decide what your intel is worth, and we move on from there. You do not dictate the pace of our operation in any capacity. If this stifles your own investigation you're free to walk out of that door.

Relatively free. If they did leave he'd be keeping tabs on them via SCION's spy network for some time. Regardless of what they decided. Hunters sometimes proved to be valuable, usually unwitting, executors for their organization. If they could be handled properly. Those that couldn't were handled accordingly. Montana was by no means above selling them a very believable bridge, complete with it's own goose, for them to pursue for the next 48 hours.

"If you have any questions, I'll answer them outside of the medical wing."

There was slight ripple in the lake, that formed a polite smile.