Spire Schippers's Story

Toby and Spire arrived in York to be slapped in the face with the preparations of the Viking festival. Norse mythology galore. Runes. Some moron dressed up like Odin, live crow and all. Depictions of horses with too many legs. Mjolnirs for sale alongside those ridiculous horned helmets. And there was surely more to come.

Festivals.
Freaks always slithered out of the woodwork for these kinds of things. It seemed about half of the Schippers brothers' investigations were born out of obscure festivals in uncomfortably small towns or in old, culture-rich ones. York was certainly the latter. Another day, Toby and Spire might have half-enjoyed a lazy appraisal of the city and its architecture, but they weren't here for the gardens or the museums. They were here for the corpses, which was why they found themselves loitering outside the very morgue at which SCION operatives would soon arrive.

The tall brothers spoke quietly side by-side, half sitting against a sturdy cast iron fence on the opposite side of the road where they could see the facility, conducting a unique brand of reconnaissance.

"Definitely wolves around here, but I'm not sure what k--what killed these guys," said Toby, the younger of the pair, a soft-edged, mousy-haired, and altogether trustworthy-looking young man. He lost all hope of coming off formiddable somewhere between the speech impediment, the big, perpetually concerned, golden retriever eyes, and the argyle sweater under his blazer --the blazer conveniently hiding the firearms weighing at his sides. "I'm a little...it's hard to tell because I think--they've got something else in there that's not human."

"What is it?" asked Spire with a drawl of casual boredom in his voice. He excelled at coming off nonchalant...and it helped that he wasn't terribly concerned or interested in finding monsters if they were already dead.

"I don't know," said Toby, blinking hard as he tried to extend the reach of his weak sensory sorcery through concrete walls. "I've never felt it before. It's--it's icky."

"Icky. Is that the scientific term or does it just sound technical?" Spire said with a sidelong smile.

The elder Schippers  brother didn't look much like Toby's brother at all. His speech and mannerisms were relaxed, his hair darker, straighter. His face looked like it had been carved with one of his own sharp knifes, all straight lines and careful angles. If Toby was a golden retriever, Spire was a wolf.

And that had always been the case, even before the wolf part got, you know, literal.

Spire's quip didn't win a returning smile. "We should g--get in there," Toby suggested, anxious under the cloying, alien presence of the thing inside.

Spire pushed off from the fence with a conceding shrug, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slim gray coat. He could be patient. There would be plenty of work to do here.

Between sparse but suspicious news reports, a conspiracy theorist blog that had paid off in the past, and Toby's uncanny intuition for drawing to the supernatural, they had found themselves on a plane and halfway across the world, and not for the first time. A little hospital security certainly wasn't going to slow them down.

Shadow travel was a neat magic. Rafael had picked it up from a voodoo doctor in the southern bayous of Louisiana some 70 years before. It was due to this Shadow Travel that he had been able to travel to York in a matter of seconds were es it would take the rest of the team well over a few hours to get there. \

After...borrowing a admittedly nice looking mustang import from some poor persons open garage, Rafael arrived at the safe house. He had known this safe house was here before the "Big wiggs" as he called them, had informed his co-workers. Perk of being a veteran member of S.C.I.O.N.

He had set him self up in the small house at the edge of town and went for a stroll. As he entered the town, something vary familiar came across his magical senses: Ware-wolf. This was strange to him, Kora nor the new born Lycan could have beaten him there. Hell, by his count, they were most likely still in the meeting.

It wasn't one of Koras kin either, he had dealt with them before and knew their presence well enough. As he walked through town, hat down low, hand in his pockets, and a cigarette in his mouth; he could make out two lycans in the area. Different enough that he could tell they were different people, but close enough they might have been siblings.

Turning the corner, he found just that. Two, lycans, from their looks, brothers. With out bashing an eye, he made for the curb and crossed the street. Keeping them in his vision, he walked to an ally and slipped in to his, hiding him self in the shadows. He could tell they were casing the joint. This worried him and made him smile lightly, "These two arnt ours, oh no, but they are smart enough to work like we do" he thought to him self.

He could only grin some more as he watched them make their way inside.

Toby and Spire had only made it a few feet into the parking lot when Toby's spine stiffened like he had been pumped with electricity. Spire's hand was in his jacket over his weapons in a second as he cast his brother an expectant look. Toby  regained composure quickly, continuing to walk in case they were being watched.

-"Remember that one time in Haiti?" Toby asked under his breath as he tried not to cringe at the flood of sorcery that had just washed over his senses. "Sort of like that. Back there." He steadied himself mentally, trying to sense the location with more precision.

Spire's mouth curved up at one side. "Awfully coincidental, that." He palmed a small, bright  razor in one hand. Wouldn't want to go firing shots in the middle of the day, and if it came to that, Toby was the quicker draw and the sharper aim, anyway.

"Alleyway," Toby said confidently.

"Well," said Spire easily. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

The dead could wait.

They circled round and strode purposefully toward the alley. Rafael might have hidden well enough from sight, but not from Toby's aura detection, and not from Spire's sharp hearing and sense of scent.

Toby stood frowning at the mouth of the alley while Spire leaned smilingly against the side of one of the stucco walls, folding his arms and crossing one foot, toe-down on the gritty pavement, the picture of ease though every muscle in his body was on alert to move fast. 

"This is certainly suspicious," Spire remarked, his pearl gray eyes fixed right on Rafael. "Kid, I think we're  being watched."

"We know what you are. What d--what do you want?" Toby asked, wary.

Rafael smiled. "You know, and I speak from many years of life experience, most pure blood Lycans have an extremely large amount of difficulty in detecting me, let alone a pair of made lycans such as your self." He stepped in to the light and made a show of opening his suit jacket to reach for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, and revealing the Luger, loaded with silver ammunition, snug in its shoulder holster. Closing his suit jacket, he brought the cigarette to his mouth and snapped his fingers twice. A small flame appeared in his hand and he lit it with it.

"And yes, I know what you two are, Lobos, how ever, I guess you could say I was presently surprised when you managed to find me." Seeing the blade in the elder brothers hand, Alihambra smiled again and took a puff of his cigarette. "That blade wont do you much good, Lobo, and im not your enemy" he took another puff, "My objective, and the objective of my coworkers, lies with in that morgue." He nodded to the building behind them. "However, I can...travel faster them said coworkers, so at the moment I am the only one in country, that is why I would like to offer a deal."

He would walk towards the two men and put his right hand out. "But first, I do believe i have yet to introduce my self; I am Rafael Jose Alihambra, resident head sorcerer and lead field magical expert of the S.C.I.O.N organization." His left hand would slip in to his pocket and take out two small wight cards. "My Card."

When Rafael said "coworkers" the Schippers may as well have heard "fellow cultists." 

Spire and Toby's eyes flicked in tandem to the weapon as the mage not-so-subtly revealed it. A threat, all right, but bit foolish of him, they thought, to show his hand. They might have flashed the glocks in answer, but they preferred he didn't know how they were armed. Since the man already knew about the knife, however, Spire took the liberty of giving it a twist between his fingers, like a coin in the hands of a magician.

"Head sorcerer. Lead field magical expert. Impressive," the older brother said with sarcasm oozing from his voice  to show just how thoroughly  underwhelmed he was. "Thank you, then, for giving away absolutely everything about yourself. Good to know you'll have company." And good to know that they wouldn't be there for a while, so that Toby and Spire would have time to take care of the body once they bled this conversation dry. "I'm Spire. This is Toby. Maybe we're not your ordinary pair of made lycans."

...completely true, considering that one of them wasn't a lycan at all. Some expert. If the man didn't have the skill to identify Toby correctly, they certainly weren't going to correct him.

Neither of them made any motion to take the cards. They knew better than to take an object from a strange sorcerer.

"You don't know anything about who our enemies are," said Toby. "What's this deal? And what d--do you know about the thing in the morgue?"

"Thank you, then, for giving away absolutely everything about yourself. Good to know you'll have company." Rafael couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the elder brothers sarcasm. "My my, I do think I have seen sarcasm of that grade since...well, the Virgin Queen, befitting that fact we are in England" Rafael slipped the cards back in to his pocket. They knew about the lugar, but they dident know about the Runes, or the SCAR hidden in the ally behind them.

It was also around this time Rafael mentally kicked him self in his own ass. The younger brother was not a made Lycan, oh no, though his older brothers sent had thrown him off, he could see what Toby really was.

"You don't know anything about who our enemies are," "What's this deal? And what d--do you know about the thing in the morgue?" "Well, seeing as you two are going to most likely to try and kill me once this conversation ends, I think I should at least give you some information, to both inform you and to give you a reason to overthink that...foolish idea"
Rafael took another puff of the cigarette and began, "Some one, or some thing, has been killing people ritualistically, both Human and cryptid alike." he would drop the cigarette and stamp it out. "What lies in that morgue is not only a pile of ...well, body parts; but what my Bosses believe is one of the things killing people off."

"Now, the local PD know that me and my coworkers are arriving to investigate, though they don't know all simply due to our rules about revealing cryptids to the mainstream human populace.'" He paused. "My deal, if you choose to accept it, was to have you two tag along and assist me, you could gt in with out bother, passing off as one of my coworkers, and we don't have you kill each other, fitting deal, no?"

At Rafael's talk of killing, Spire uncrossed his arms and stood up straight, closer to Toby, away from his post against the wall, looking genuinely  taken aback. He tucked his blade in his sleeve, raising his hands to eye level in a placating gesture. "Woah, pal. Nobody said anything about killing each other," he said, sounding so perturbed that he could have fooled even Toby if Toby  didn't know this game very, very well.

The information on the ritual killings and the fact that the thing inside was indeed related was helpful indeed. They could play along, for now. It rather depended on the time line of things.

Toby didn't have the well-oiled tongue Spire did, but something about the younger man's face just read "trustworthy." He must have looked natural as a boyscout. 

"We wouldn't mind the help. How long until the rest of your--crew gets  here?" he asked quietly.

Spire nodded. "And how do we know we can trust you? For all we know it's you who's planning to take us out once this conversation is over, Mr. Let Me Accidentally Show You My Gun."

"Woah, pal. Nobody said anything about killing each other," Rafael merely shrugged at this. "Just a possible foreshadowing of events." He would walk back in to the ally and retrieved the bag that held the SCAR. "We wouldn't mind the help. How long until the rest of your--crew gets here?" [i/] "The first of them should be arriving in country with in a few hours, may even get to meet them." He pulled out another cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers. [i] "And how do we know we can trust you? For all we know it's you who's planning to take us out once this conversation is over, Mr. Let Me Accidentally Show You My Gun."

Rafael let out a chuckle. "Do you honestly think that if I wanted to kill you, I would have given you my name and employer?" he stopped in front of them, but just out of arms reach. "Besides, one of my coworkers is a Lycan I happen to be fond off; and I don't think she would like me killing off her kin with no reason" He motioned to his jacket shoulder, were the Luger was holstered. "That, was a test, a pure bred Lycan would have at least flinched at the sight of a weapon loaded with silver ammunition."


He walked past them and stopped at the curb. Turning around, he spoke, "Well, come now, don't you want to see what has been going bump in the night and terrorizing these poor Brits?"


He could only smile slightly as he waited their response. He really did mean them no harm, and had fallowed them out of curiosity more then anything else. What he had said would have been true, in most cases. This, how ever, was not most cases. He had met a made Lycan, who he could guess was fond of blades, and his mage brother, in the city of York. What luck, they could even be members of S.C.I.O.N if they played their cards smartly.

"Got silver in there, do you? Sorry, X-ray vision didn't come with the package," said Spire. "Real scientific test you've got there, slick, ding ding ding, correct, not a 'pure bred,'" he added in a drawl.

He had met a fair number of born wolves. In his experience they were a proud, tough bunch of freaks who only tended to flinch /after/ they were shot. Besides, Toby was carrying enough silver to take out a pack, or buy a nice car, if he was so inclined. It wasn't as though Spire wasn't accustomed to the presence of the stuff. It took a lot to scare him. To see if he would flinch? Please.

As Rafael moved past them, the pair took the moment to make eye contact, to exchange silent communication, a process at which they had become uncannily good. A few hours. Probably not enough time to follow the guy inside and still take care of things before a posse showed up. And anyway, this didn't make sense. It made no sense for Rafael to trust them like this, to show his hand, and to leave his own cult in the dust. The man's strange behavior made Toby so suspicious that the sorcerer was hiding something, he wasn't sure what to do, yet he sensed no lie in the man's emotional output...not that Toby's was a surefire method of lie detection. Still. They didn't budge from their place, merely pivoting to watch their quarry.

"You mean--you're just going to t--take us and go ahead without them?" asked  Toby at length with a frown.  "What's the hurry? The thing's dead, it's not going anywhere before your...coworkers get here."

"And having contacts with the police doesn't mean you won't have doctors nosing around," Spire said, all the while listening and watching for any company, human or otherwise, they had on the street. "What's your plan for waltzing in, head sorcerer field expert genius?"

"It is more a madder off need then trust, my friend." he answered the younger brother. "How ever, I can say that you two look interesting to say the least" his phone would beep and he would take it out of his pants pocket. "Damn...thought I would have more time."

Puting the phone away, he turned back to the brothers. "Gentlemen, I am pressed for time and have my own reason to investigate
this creature. If you wish to get in to see this thing before my coworkers get their hands on it, by all means" he would motion to the building in which tier objective lie.

"If not" he paused and glanced down the street, "Then I will leave you two to your own dealings and continue." he began to turn to leave before stopping. "If you wish to contact m, do so here" he would set his card down on a small wooden box at the entrance of the ally.

(OOC: sorry for the lack of filler in this post. I am pressed for time and cant really play it out.)

"You didn't answer our questions, Rafael," Spire called after Alihambra, tacking his name on to the sentence like he was talking to an old friend--or like he was talking to an old friend, if not for the sneer.

As the sorcerer turned his back, Toby's fingers twitched. It would be easy, painfully easy, to pull one of his dual glocks from beneath his blazer and pop the retreating figure in the back of the skull, unless, of course, the man had cast a ward powerful enough to stop a bullet-- but Alihambra had given him enough to spark his curiosity, and enough to make him question whether the sorcerer might not be a bit like them--that is, after other cryptids. Enemy of my enemy...

The younger Schippers brother pocketed the card, sensing there was nothing sinister about it now that Alihambra had moved away. He looked toward Spire, hoping to quickly make a decision on whether to play along or not-- but then a tingle at the edge of his nerves told him they were not alone.

"Thought you'd have more t--time is right," Toby said, taking a few paces out of the alley and jerking his head at the innocuous-looking photographer, who was...not any powerful sorcerer himself, and yet reeked of magic--infused objects.

Spire followed his gaze with a snap of his pale eyes. "That one of your friends already, hombre?" he said to Alihambra, raising a dark eyebrow. It was almost like this was some sort of trap, but if it was, it was a very poorly laid one. "Convenient."
He ambled a couple of steps down the walkway with vague amusement turning up his mouth and waved a hand toward Montana in a come-here gesture.

Spire didn't mind this. He might mind it more if they got too terribly outnumbered, but it wasn't boring, whatever it was.

Montana caught the waving hand and turned his camera lens toward him. Despite its ordinary appearance, much like his own, it was a very powerful, top grade piece of hardware. It boasted a multitude of functions, ranging from infrared and night vision, to really /really/ clear high definition pictures. The zoom function was utilized here, and Montana picked up the two brothers faces, as well as.

Mr. Alihambra?

If he had believed in coincidences, he imagined he wouldn't have lived passed 25.

Montana wanted to get this sorted before one Ms.Kovalenko showed up. Point being, weather it was innocent or not, there must be some reason why two undercover SCION agents wound up in the same area. The one who hailed him had a /very/ confident and self assured posture. While the second seemed more passive in his stance. Like one was about to complain about the food while the other silently agreed from behind. Alright.

"You guys want a picture or somethin'?" Montana trotted over to them, after snapping a few quick photos of course. His shoes against concrete crossed the gap between them in little time, and he came to a halt when he reached conversation distance. "Just a little 'advertisement' if you let me use them in my portfolio I can get them printed for fr-." He stopped.

"Well, cheap."

A bit airheaded, a bit self absorbed. The eye contact he made was accented with self assured smiling and liberal hand use. No mention of Alihambra or if he knew him. He was a stranger as far as he was concerned.

Spire chuckled under his breath. Montana was convincing with his bubbly photographer act and his failure to acknowledge Alihambra, but two magical presences so close together couldn't be a coincidence. Spire shared a quick look with his brother--Toby would stop him if he was going too far or getting too close. Toby could read an aura well enough at this range to know if they were about to be attacked. Finding no more than Toby's  usual, perpetual look of mild concern coupled with a small shrug, Spire  nodded vigorously.

"Ah, that would be great--what's your name?" he said, meeting Montana's confident eye contact with equal confidence and cheerfulness, underscored with something just a bit cold, like convincing glass eyes. "We're here for the festival, but all we've got is phones. How cheap is cheap?"

But he threw his arm around Toby's shoulders and began mugging for the lens, as though price was a secondary concern to documenting the moment.

Toby made no effort to play along, tolerating Spire's theatrics but watching Montana. More specifically, watching the lapel of his jacket, behind which he very distinctly felt something unnatural. "Outside a hospital," Toby said, his voice painfully gentle next to Spire's, and dramatically more suspicious. "That's an interesting choice in venue for your shots. Is that--some theme you're going for?"

Spire kept smiling as though Toby's question had no barb.

"Oh, Rafael, come get in the picture," he said, beckoning Alihambra. He turned to Montana with a grin. "Mind if our friend gets in the picture? His name's Rafael Alihambra. He was just telling us all about his very interesting line of work. We're expecting his coworkers now."
Or the rest of them, anyway, he thought, fairly certain he was looking at one of them.

"Let's say...let's say 4 quid, you guys have good faces, angular, you'd be doing me a favour too." Attractive people in any portfolio made it more attractive to potential customers. Montana waited for them to move into position, while he busied himself changing the settings on his camera. Partly because he took his cover job seriously, and partly because he was doing things that didn't pertain to photography. He was buying time because the situation demanded his intense scrutiny. Something was amiss and Montana didn't need his 35+ years in espionage to see that. Before The Scientist and the Escort showed up.

The second one, the softer spoken, and more serious out of the two, asked him questions about himself and the hospital. Far from innocuous no matter how it was intended. "Nah no theme for hospitals." Quick, and dismissive. To see if they'd pry further. With the subtle hand of a photographer he began to conduct them closer together.

Then.

Rafael Alihambra.

Second, coworkers showing up soon.

Montana didn't miss a beat, he took his time, snapped his shots and began to flick through them. "Yeah? You work at the hospital here mate?" He replied, seeming very distracted with his work.

"Here guys, tell me what you think." He strode closer toward them, stopping about three feet in front of them. He turned the camera towards them. "Oh!" He pulled a phone out, not his S.C.I.O.N one of course, and did some quick tapping to bring up a 'Facebook' page, A&A Photography. The camera was tucked under his arm, still open to the photograph. "Here's what I do, if you guys want to have a look, wouldn't mind a few likes either, well, don't log me out but remember the page yeah."

One part fingerprint scanner, second part sending a pocket text to their resident scientist. 'Rafael's cover compromised, mine possibly, advise caution, can handle, hit back in 5 or 10.'

Can handle meant no immediate danger. Hit back meant he'd try to respond in five to ten minutes to confirm there had been no immediate danger. If he didn't well.

Speaking of Rafael, Alihambra better have a good reason for this. Cover blown outside of a hospital he was not tasked with investigating, two private investigator esq characters one playing cat and mouse while the other questioned him. He respected his co-worker, but respect was far from the situation now.

No theme for hospitals, that was all. How evasive.
"No?" said Toby, who was still conspicuously failing to make eye contact on account of looking at Montana's jacket as though he might see through it if he stared long enough. As Montana approached, Toby wondered if there was a way he could reach into the man's inner pocket to see what was causing the spike on his inborn magical radar... "That's funny. Wouldn't you have better luck at the festival?"

"We can do four--Oh, that looks good," said Spire upon being shown the digital screen. He elbowed Toby genially, all smiles, all acting. "Except you look like you're about to get hit by a car, but there's probably no helping that."

Spire anticipated mysticism and sorcerers, not subterfuge and spies. He took Montana's phone, therefore, without a trace of concern, flicking his thumb across the screen to scroll through the images on the "photographer's" page and effectively handing his identity to SCION. Decent--some portraits--landscapes--nothing spectacular--amateur, assessed his art-savvy eye. Still, when Spire said, "Pretty impressive," he wasn't lying, because either their new acquaintance was both sorcerer and aspiring photographer, or he had gone through a lot of trouble to pretend to be one. He handed the phone back to Montana.

The street seemed more or less deserted. They could probably end the pointless game, but Montana was proving such an amusing opponent.

"A&A, got it. And ahh, no, Raf doesn't work at the hospital. I think he's here for some sort of investigation, actually. He seemed a bit eager to get in there before his friends got here, too, not sure why that is," Spire said, his eyeline skipping between Montana and Alihambra. His voice still channeled the naive tourist though the words grew increasingly pointed. He didn't know what was going on, but after Alihambra's suspiciousness, his misplaced trust and chattiness, Spire was willing to bet he and Toby were stirring some kind of trouble. He did hope so. "Why was that, again, Raf?"

"That useless moronic fuck Alihambra has blown his cover. Montana is dealing with it, apparently. I don't think I need to remind you all that if you see that idiot not to make any indication you know him, but I don't know, maybe the idiocy is contagious."


" So there is nothing we need to deal with? If Montana has it covered then let's not worry about it now. " Issac said taking note of the surroundings, He sounded a bit distracted. " Do we know anything about who he blew his cover too or did he bump into two bumpkins?" He said looking out the window towards the group, looking very bored. Something about the two guys rang a bell. He turned away slowly and propped his head up with a hand, cover his face from their line of sight.
" Oren, something about those two rings a bell... I've seen them before. " He said, with the same bored expression, he didn't want one of them to glance over and see concern on his face or mark him for being interested in them. " We might wanna do some digging on those two.."

He glanced back at Christina , "Funny a veteran screwed up before the rookies did isn't it." He said with a sarcastic smirk. " Well , ironic anyways." He added settling back into his seat.

Five minutes in and we already stepped in something.... Intel mission my ass.

They got out of the car and Issac stretched, keeping his back to the group, on the off chance the fence and bits of wall hadn't blocked their line of sight by now, Oren's glance suggested it hadn't. Issac had his ID and what not ready, he also had some other paperwork squirreled away in-case they had to walk into a metal detector or something...

" I don't think a few security guards will be enough..." He changed his demeanor from grumpy old man, to upstarting middle aged intern trying to be cool, when they passed someone. He gave a wave and a goofy grin, a seeming genuine one. He walked less confident, adjusted his glasses, like he was a bit nervous all to add to his persona as a wanna-be-lab-rat.

Rafael was surprised.

The arrival of Montana meant two things to him. First, that the magical bug he had placed in the HQ would "Lag" the further he was away. The second being that if Montana was here, and in his get up, then the rest of the team were also here.

"I think I have some time for a picture, so why not." Ignoring the Skipper brothers question, he got in to a pose with the rest of them.

If Monty was here, then Rafael wouldn't get a chance to...prove him self wrong...with out having to explain it to the vampire bitch. His mind flashed back to the events that had happened so long ago.


March 3rd, 1944.
Unkown town, Norway.

Between flashes of lightning and rain, he watched as the SS division advanced, in battle lines complete with Tiger IIs, towards the ruins of the research camp. While the researchers were no mach for...it...the SS should have at least have a chance. This was proven wrong when he saw one of the Tigers, crew and all, get thrown at least 50 feet to the side. The Tiger crashed in to the one next to it and the rest of the SS turned their collective fire power towards the spot.

The creatures outline glowed ever so lightly in the darkness and only did to give the SS something to shoot at. All at once they open fire on it. Every gun, from the Walter PPK in to the officers hands, to the 8.8 cm gun on the Tigers, opened up and sent round after round, shell after shell, and even a few grenades to the spot.

The Tank commander ordered a cease fire and watched the plume of dust that now hid the beast....He had little time to react before the swelling black mass that was the demons dark energy engulfed the tank, and the rest of the unit in a matter of seconds.

All that was left was the many pile of ashes that marked the soldiers, and the still running Tiger IIs, now crew-less.
3 times the black mass tried to take Rafael, still dressed in his SS uniform, before he was able to reach the core and see the demon up close. Even then, it still hid itself in a showed of darkness, its red eyes being the only clue it was there.

"You, mortal, why can I not consume you like the others?" it asked.

Rafael smiled. "Because I am unlike any mortal that has, and shall ever live, my brother"

"Then know this, mortal, I will return, by my own hand, or by the hand of one of your own...and I will bring destruction down upon this Earth the likes of which this world has never seen"

With that, the creature simply nodded its head and did nothing to stop Rafael from casting the rune on to its head, sealing it to the Earth for hopefully untold years...or until some one disturbed its slumber.

Present Day.

It was the flash of the camera that took him back to reality. If this thing was what he thought it was, which he really had no evidence to think it was, then he would need to seal it back to its tomb for good. Preferably before the rest of S.C.I.O.N found out.



If it could wipe out an SS panzer division in seconds, he could only imagine what it could do at full power.

Christina’s false identification labelled her as “Kate Miller” and showed her as a black haired woman with a babyface and brown eyes. The only way it was special, perhaps, was in just how generic the whole appearance was crafted to be. Still in the car, she had broken and discarded one of the charms that she called the “Blur”, a small disk of frosted glass. The contained spell, fashioned after one of the incubus/succubus abilities, changed her to what people would expect to see – in this case, the photo she’d been provided with.
“Of course, Lauren.” She agreed, pitching her voice slower, more monotonous than her normal speech. Inside though, she was shaking her head. /How do you blow your cover that fast? And… is he even on the morgue team?/ He’d flounced out of the briefing barely five minutes in, but maybe the heads had assigned him to group one. She looked over to Oren, and considered asking, but decided to push it back. It wasn’t relevant anymore. Her mouth screwed up at Issac’s comment, however she had nothing to add and no way to study them closer. She still hadn’t straightened her face when Issac glanced at her and spoke, so she merely raised a brow before saying “Quite.”
/Was that supposed to mean something? Why the hell is he saying this to me? Is that some sort of diss or…?/
It could have been a simple comment, but she doubted he was being friendly.
She followed behind Oren and Issac demurely, making sure to look around only enough to seem natural, and keeping her eyes void of recognition even when she swept over the men having their “pleasant chat” by the alley. She had her ID and proper assistant tools with her, and followed “Dr. Drake” in with no problems.
Once inside, she pulled out a clipboard and multiple papers, and began to write down notes on the first four bodies, pausing at each a bit longer than Oren had. Years of practice and her own type of shorthand made this quick nonetheless; she knew how to push aside disgust when it was necessary and if she started having nightmares, that was what the medical wing was for. The sorceress was soon at Oren’s side and looking at the body with morbid curiosity. The blood especially she found interesting the unique green of it seeming to glow in the stark lights.
“Certainly a unique specimen.” /If I’ve researched something like it, it was too long ago/ Her voice was the same soft slow monotony as before. “Anything you would like me to do, doctor?”

"Thanks, thanks." Montana seemed pleased that liked his work, bobbing his head in the slow motions of self congratulation. "Do you guys have an email I can send this to once I touch it up and all that, you know what, take it for free, it's not like I'm shooting a wedding am I right."

The phone in his pocket began its subtle and steady pulsing, signaling that Montana had received a text message back. Most likely from his friends and associates in the Information Department. In a very distracted manner Montana replied. "Oh your friend is some kind of Private Eye?"

"You guys all together or something? Am I being cross examined?" He laughed lightly, as if the very idea itself, along with his joke, justified a small outburst of mirth. Montana continued to flick through the information on his screen. The charming one with the pasted smile was a turned Wolf, the other was some kind of minor mage. They were both brothers, listed as hunters five years ago, so five years later from that point made them veterans of a sort. In Montana's experience, there were often two types of hunters that occurred in far greater numbers then the more obscure niches of the craft. Hunters on a 'noble' crusade against all that was non human, or hunters that exercised proper reasoning into their hunts and slayings. From the report it seemed the two leaned more toward the former then the latter. Seemed. A lot could change in a few years.

Sensing cryptids was a true gift in their craft, allowing them to subvert large portions of investigation and intelligence gathering. It made lying to them quite useless in that regard. Mr. Alihambra had not pointed to him, and picking him out as a member of this mission based on chance alone was unlikely but possible. If it hadn't been chance, that would mean the scope of Toby's sensing ability was beyond what was mentioned in the report.

At times, hunters could be worked with on missions, as long as their cover, and more importantly, the cover of S.C.I.O.N was maintained with healthy respect. This didn't excuse Mr.Alihambra revealing mission secrets to them, unless, again, he had a very good reason. The issue was Montana didn't know how much had been revealed.
up.

Regardless, this put several members of the team in danger of being discovered. So, Montana forwarded the intelligence report to his fellow team members, including photographs. The message would be sent on a five minute delay to Rafael, so his phone wouldn't buzz the moment the report was forwarded.

It read as follows,

(((((File Date: January, 2010
Agent Involved: Derrick Avalon

Cleaned up a minor incident on [CLASSIFIED] Campus involving a male by the name of Spire Schippers. During incident male turned into a werewolf and intended to attack 3 unknown males. Brother of Spire known as Toby Schippers prevented any damaged to the unknown males with the use of magic. In accordance to SCION rules the memories of the males were changed to remove traces of cryptids.
Also in accordance with SCION policies I (agent invovled) shall keep an eye on the cryptids involved in incident to make sure things do not escalate.

File Date: Feburary, 2010

It appears that Toby Schippers goes to college at [CLASSIFIED] Campus while his brother does not appear to be going here. At this point in time there has been no more incidents to report. However Toby appears interested in approaching myself and contact appears imminent, will update report after contact.

File Date: Feburary, 2010
Toby Schippers has confirmed that he and Spire Schippers are new hunters with the goal of wiping out cryptids who do harm to humans. Toby also confirmed that he holds magic that allows him to sense cryptids types but does not seem interested in learning more advanced magic. Toby also confirmed that Spire is a turned werewolf who is not in nor interested in joining a pack at this time. During contact I offered to advise Toby during hunting cases to help him and his brother.
This contact was offered for two reasons, first and foremost to keep an eye on their activities, second was to make sure the rookies do not get killed.

File Date: June, 2010
Toby Schippers has cut off communication with me for unknown reasons, will continue to track phone and keep an eye on the brothers until phone is discarded.
Final Thoughts: In a few years Toby Schippers may be a good candidate for SCION, watch for him in the future.
However Spire seems to be a risk and loose-cannon, unless he joins a pack there is cause for concern. If you see subject stay off to the side and observe with caution. before approaching. A lone wolf is a dangerous thing.))))

Courtesy of Derek Avalon. Timely with information as always.

(((There was one other notice of a relatively new vampire turning up with Spire's print on her, but Derrick Avalon's reports composed the bulk of the "Agent Incident Reports" section of the file.

Granted, Derrick's hadn't been the only Agent Incident. Just the only one with names and collected prints.

The "Criminal Record" and "Psychiatric Reports" sections, however, were a bit more diverse. Juvenile records indicated that Spire was cited for animal abuse and destruction of property several times before the age of fourteen. On his adult record, however, the file was squeaky clean--legally and officially, anyway. The brothers were known to have been in towns where cryptids of unknown status had disappeared or were found dead, and SCION flagged the potential involvement of the hunters.

The psych record showed an early ASPD diagnosis on Spire (though, again, no record of treatment after age 18), and a few bouts of "hallucinations" on Toby, which SCION footnoted as possible magical ability manifestation, in addition to speech disorder treatment.

Status was listed as unaligned with any cryptid organization, no investigation warrant, but worth a yellow "watch" note.

All in all, a pretty smatter of red flags.)))