Wallace McManus's Story

“Hello everyone, this is Toni Roberts with a special news report. We all know of the recent coming out of the things that go bump in the night. Without warning, we’ve learned that vampires, werewolves, witches, and more are all real, and among us. They’re in our police, our firemen, our hospitals, and now I can conclusive evidence that they are in our schools.

Behind me stands the St. Thomas Aquinas School for Gifted Youth, a private academy allegedly for academically talented children from kindergarten up. However, it appears as if this school is in fact a private academy not for academically talented children, but for magically or psychically gifted and nonhuman children. These children can board here, or be a day schooler, and their website boasts of nearly 1000 enrollees.

I have managed to find a pamphlet describing the school to prospective students. The students here are here because of the potential danger they represent normal children, with difficulty controlling magic, or even their own strength. Children remain here until they are capable of blending in with the general populace or they graduate, where they-”

Molly turned off the TV in the break alcove, refusing to watch another second of the utter shit on TV. The gentle giant glared at the now blank screen and then shook her head, despairing quietly. “They went after the kids. What kind of bastard does that?” She whispered, and tossed her brown paper lunch bag in the trash can. They had a small kitchenette alcove to eat in, and store your lunch, but the TV was a newer addition, and it was a miracle it was still in one piece.

The world was falling apart, or at least that’s how it felt. The decision had been made to come out to mundane humans, to let them know that monsters and magic were real, and Molly would love to strangle whoever decided this was a good idea. Cross-species incidents were up through the roof, and everything was hell in a handbasket. There was even talk of them integrating with the regular police department, though as far as she knew, that hadn’t happened yet.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate fox news lately? They’ve been re-airing that stupid segment for a good week now.” They were going after magically inclined people with pitchforks flaring. How the hell were the kids supposed to feel safe then this nutcase did this? The school was now compromised, and she had no doubt that little to nothing would be done about it.

Maybe she could talk the director into putting up a watch there, someone to keep an eye out until things died down a little. It’d probably reassure the younger kids at least. Molly tugged at the base of her high ponytail and considered her options.

None of it mattered. Today, she was getting to meet new team members. Or a new team member. Molly hadn’t paid that much attention to the briefing.

One of those members walked through the door tapping through in a set of black pull-on work sneakers. Her clothing was as well tailored as herself all proportions just so. An olive-skinned mediterranean face hadn't any blemishes to it any more than the smooth black button-over pants and sheer silk shirt. Her short strawberry blond hair rose in a light tuft that she thought went well with the tasteful floral pattern of her new shirt. She'd made an effort to look good on her first day in the notorious texas branch no matter what the higher ups thought they were doing to her. Forensics needed doing whoever she was assigned to.

While she didn't need her bronze rimmed glasses, they were just glass, they had a light-sensitive coating to hide her eyes from others while out among strangers among other filters. Removed by long fingers the glasses hooked behind the tablet through her shirt just above her bust. Definitely in the interest of safe keeping. Behind them had been brown eyes that were actually a metallic bronze that well matched her frames hinting at inhuman ancestry. Darting from handles to cooking area she took in and categorized the scene. The tablet released from her tight grip around the chest of natural tight-trimmed nails got a note to test the kitchen for cleanliness later as well as the TV knobs.

Chrysanta spied Molly at a table complaining then making open-ended questions. Rhetorical questions to everyone were a particular hated thing for an Irshi-blood since she had to answer them. The forensic technician when she approached tried not to look her new superior in the eyes even while talking. Since learning from the mistake that got her here in the first place.

Despite her visual disconnect she did her best to be respectful as the words poured out, "No, I've never met you before now and I'm supposed to find the trails of bread crumbs for you operatives to catch him so the kids feel safe."

Her gaze could empty the place in imagination where lies were born and it flickered if for a moment to try and lock eyes with Molly by an involuntary habit she couldn't suppress. Chrysanta blushed then darted her gaze safely away, "I... ahh... Hello. I'm Chrysanta Townsend your new field forensic technician, Miss Bronson."

Next through was Davien. A detective had escorted him all the way to the door, so Dave knew there was no real chance of getting out of this one. He walked into the room, doing his best to conceal how shaken up he was by the last 24 hours and play it cool. He gave quick glances to both of his fellow occupants of the room through his aviator sunglasses, and gave a less than genuine smile. Turning his attention back to the room, Dave located a chair and table. Making his way over to it as smoothly and calmly as he could, he sat.

Damn Dave's head hurt. The noise of the police station, the smoggy stifling air, and the constant barrage of light and electronics in the fair city of Dallas was getting to be enough to drive him crazy. No matter how he felt though, he needed to try and be polite. This is the first time ever he had been caught by anyone for anything, and there was no telling what they were going to do. In fact... He didn't even know if the other people in the room were prisoners like him, or why he was even here. He should by all rights still be in that jail in Crandall, or in Daves line of thinking, most likely dead. But for some reason, right before they made him take off his watch for processing an agent from the MCU rushes in and takes him down here. Maybe they wanted to dissect him. Who knows.

He decided to keep his mouth shut and his sunglasses on for now, picking up a pamphlet of some type and pretending to read it through the dark lenses. He was also taking a look around the room at the windows and doors, visually testing them for weaknesses. He tried his best to keep an eye on the other two in the room as well, remaining as inconspicuous as he possibly could. Best just to wait and see if anyone talks to him. He wasn't in the most sociable mood right now, but knew that conversation would have to happen at some point. He would give it his best shot when it did.