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A world much like our own.


a part of SCION, by VitaminHeart.


VitaminHeart holds sovereignty over A world much like our own., giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Default Location for SCION
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A world much like our own. is a part of SCION.

23 Characters Here

Oren Kovalenko [158] Science.
Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana [118] Espionage, Intrigue, Martial Arts, and a healthy Imagination.
Issac Schofield [118] Always watchful.
Phoebe Stride [113] "Nirvana doesn't get enough credit."
Fel [93] A kind Fallen that enjoys helping others.
Christina Eberhart-Taroni [92] Knowledge is power, magic is might.
Alexander Wiseman [92] "Perception is key, half the battle can be won if the enemy perceives he has lost"
Crystal [90] This snarky teenager has a reply for just about everything.
Rafael Jose Alihambra [89] "I am a F**k Mothering Assassin, and I demand to be respected as such"
Spire Schippers [86] Just your friendly neighborhood cryptid-killing werewolf-sadist-sociopath. :)

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Kovalenko Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Alexander Wiseman Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Arcturus. Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Toby Schippers Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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Alexander Wiseman

Hearing the door open Alexander glanced sideways to note not only Derricks arrivals but he had collected Arc as well. A fortuitous turn of events indeed as they did not need to send anyone out now, plus the mages skill set was an extremely useful tool. " Mr. Avalon... Its good to see you again" Hearing Derrick use the term of time out implied to Alexander that they place was entering a sort of lock down. No operation was to be launched until all the information was compiled and given a once over.

" And you come bearing gifts" he said flatly. Striding over to Arc he Reached down and lifted the unconscious figure and threw it over his shoulder. " I will secure him upstairs in one of the rooms... and once i have him compos mentis i will let you know" he said turning to carry the man upstairs. It was strange seeing Alexander carrying a person with the seeming ease and very little discomfort shown. It served to remind everyone that he was still a vampire and not just an old man. He would however make a detour into the medical area to grab a blood bag before heading up stairs.

Once upstairs he find the room that had his possessions in. Mainly a large travelling trunk. Placing Arc on the bed he went over to the trunk and undone the leather straps and the clasps. Rummaging round inside the trunk for moment he pulled out two separate lengths of ropes and laid them to one side. Using the ropes he would lash Arc down to the bed making sure to tie some bulky knots into the rope to make sure he couldn't shake them loose. Satisfied that Arc was secure he would wait for the man to regain consciousness before even thinking about feeding him, as Alexander could tell the new blood had yet to feed.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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"Mr. Avalon." Spire and his small bit of soul searching was briefly interrupted by the entrance of their superior. The man behind the shades was a ranking SCION officer, one who handled the Cold War esq job of erasing memories. Just like Ms.Kovalenko, he chided the group, perhaps rightfully so. Like his interaction with Oren, Montana didn't seem offended. Briefly interested perhaps, but not tickled in any way.

"Yes, I was going to have a private word with Spire, then I'll join the briefing. I believe I'll be able to give somewhat of an accurate rundown, and would like to address the situation first if I may."

Strictly to avoid the choir of voices that would inevitably voice their displeasure, and their defenses, and their opinions. Each would have their turn, but it was time to get some semblance of order between them. There was a lot to cover. Their next course of action would need to be decided upon, as well their plan for the hunter brothers, and their newly turned comrade. Arcturus.

"When the operation is finished, and our patient is taken care of I imagine."

Montana nodded to Derrick, the rest, and moved to the foot of Lulu's bed. Placing his hand on the foot, he began to pull her, very carefully, out of the medical wing. The IV drip most parts crimson life, some parts painkiller was left behind. He'd rather have their second patient lucid for the meeting.

"This way."

He opened the door back first, and pulled Lulu into their hallway, past that beautifully carved dresser, and to an empty room. A guest room, filled with the polite knick-knacks your average homeowner would leave in a room that anyone might stay. Homely enough without being overbearing, completely with a wide eyed cat clock that sat on the bedside drawer. "Would you mind Mr.Schippers." The older male motioned to the cot with his head as he lifted Lady Lulu's small frame, and placed her on the other bed. "Just out in the hallway, it shouldn't take up much room."


"It will take some time to discern what the creature is, which I believe was part of our agreement."

He reclined against Lulu's beside table, removing the wide eyed cat from view. His palms were placed on the wood, down. Inches away from his 1911. "That being said, if you have any questions, I'll do my best to answer them, within my parameters."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Spire followed Montana as the man deposited Lulu with a placid look about his gait. He found the shift from the chatty street photographer to this businesslike persona fascinating. And amusing.

And dangerous. Because it reminded him uncomfortably of himself.

His hand wasn’t far from his firearm, either.

-“I’m not especially worried about finding out what it is,” Spire waved. He had full confidence that Toby would sort out the creature’s origin, type of magic, level of power, and pretty much all except what she’d eaten for breakfast now that the younger brother was in physical contact with her.

“I’m a lot more interested in the whys, and in the big picture. I know there have been killings around here. Old, dark stuff. We’ve found a few items of curiosity, other than the corpse.” He smiled. “Well. The Thing formerly believed to be a corpse. Given the size of your little band of misfits here, I assume that’s not your only lead, either.” He jerked his head back toward the mismatched gathering. “I’m also curious about what makes all of you so interested. What’s this organization of yours?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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"To put it simply Spire, we are an organization that works to maintain balance between the denizens of this earth." Montana motioned with his right hand, the one opposite of his holster, to the three of them. "What we are doing now. You the Werewolf, I the human, and our sleeping Vampire. Cohesion. Peace, relatively."

Relative peace. There were some issues the organization couldn't tackle. "Similar to what you and your brother do, and hunters like you. The difference being, we don't show preference to a group of people. We manage all groups equally. Or as equally as we can."

Montana didn't miss Spire's lack of interest, the probing in his grey eyes. It had started long before the older male had opened his mouth to talk. Scrutiny. It painted him suspicious in nature. A good thing in their line of work, and it was indicative of something else as well. He'd be a liar, and a good one. Much like himself.

"As for the particulars, I have learned more then what's evident today. Why's and the big picture can be an endless game of speculation, as for the facts we have, and the facts we've learned I'll need some clearance to share that with you."

"What I can tell you is this. I believe we are dealing with a network. Possibly working through many fronts. Eyes behind every newspaper and pub glass. Each with varying knowledge with their directive linking them together." "We have the resources you don't, and the counter spy abilities you lack. Due to your status as a duo."

"I don't have any qualms working with freelance hunters. From your end, I'd be suspicious, waiting for the first bullet behind a closed door. From my end, I could figure you both working for a nameless enemy or something entirely different that would see harm come to my comrades regardless of our shared goals."

"I think such suspicions have their place, but there's much on the line when lives are being lost. So. If you feel the need to share what information you have, I'll take it into my meeting, and see what I can give to you."

An olive branch. Possibly coated in adhesive? Possibly.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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“You just narrated the opening sequence of a film noir,” drawled Spire. “We already assumed it was a group, not an individual. When I said big picture, I didn’t mean an abstract watercolor, Mr. Montana. I don’t think it would be fair for me to tell you the location of a—well, let's call this individual a contact, when you’ve given me a vague stick of bait.”

“And yes. It seems we have a bit in common,” Spire added a bit curtly in response to Montana’s explanation of their peacekeeping organization. He didn’t look at Lulu. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his lip from curling with all this talk of cohesion and harmony. “And you’re right. We’re after violent paranormals bothering the innocent bystanders. We’re less interested if some human conspiracy theorists want to lynch a local witch or two. That’s their problem. And we certainly don’t worry about inter-supernatural West Side Story turf wars. That’s a self-cleaning oven, as far as I’m concerned.”

He half-sat against an endtable, thrumming his fingers on the wooden rim. “But since I’m assuming you haven’t simply been stalking us, I’m curious about how you seem to know so much about my brother and me, and our mode of operation.”

Spire supposed that Montana could have easily conjectured their certain species-selectivity based simply on the fact that they were hunters, but earlier he had shown that he and Issac knew more than they should. This was another probe, to see how far-reaching the tentacles of this organization slithered. What records they had access to.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Crystal
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Issac sighed heavily, today was shit, but stride was right he should probably cut the mage some slack. It just baffled him why she had brought up his dislike of magic as if it were racism or something. Sure he didn't like magic, especially mental magic, but that didn't mean he 'hated' it's users, he just didn't like people poling around were they ought naught poke. Her blerting out how he felt about his co-worker, even if not by name, reinforced that dislike of all things ' mind reading'. Strides works poked at him like a stick, he didn't mind it so much coming for her though, so maybe there was some truth behind Christina's rant.

" You're probably right, I've been on edge since this whole thing started." He forced a smile but it didn't manage to reach his eyes." 'bout the stick and the paper work. How did your and Crystal's day go anyways? Learn anything?" He asked crossing his arms under his chest and leaning back against the wall, watching the entrance to the room they were in and the direction that Christina had fled.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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"I've shared with you what I can. The location of the brook is unknown, but you know for certain the brook exists" Montana had, admittedly, found the film noir comparison amusing. The banter concerning the nature of his abstract explanation was more of the same. He had listened patiently until Spire finished, and waited a few seconds to reply. He was listening. A lot of what he said Montana could agree with, at least from their perspective. Hunters often stayed in their niche, weather it be Cryptids as a macro, or vampires as a micro. Filling in the gaps with their preference.

"If we were to continue on with our train of thought, concerning this being an organization rather then an individual, or even individuals, it would stand to reason that given time we could re trace you and your brothers steps since arriving in York, correct?"

Roughly anyhow. It would be somewhat time consuming and re direct resources that could be put to use in other areas immediately. Yes they could trace the digital footprint, yes they could estimate their projected paths, check credit card purchases, even the places they might have accessed a wifi network.

"We could very possibly figure your leads, as easily as we've kept tabs on you and your brother ever since you crossed paths with one of our operatives, via our intelligence network, which would render any contribution made by yourselves redundant.

Omnipresence, real or not was a powerful tool if it was believed.

"Beyond this missed opportunity to build a working relationship, our parallel investigations could see us inadvertently thwarting each others efforts with each step we take."

"If you can give me intel to take into my meeting, I can persuade my superiors to allow me to form an alliance between us, and set up a steady flow of information, and cooperation in a manner that would help, rather then hinder."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Crystal
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The Fighter gave a short nod, reclining further into the fabric of the couch. “Damn right I am,” she said, quite obviously pleased by the assertion. “Ya need to get a damn drink or somethin’ once things boil down; been talkin’ like the bosses’re out to get us or some shit like that.” Stride snorted at the thought, obviously still not affected by Issac’s paranoia. After all, if there was some odd conspiracy, it would have already been clear as day by now- or, at least, that was her logic.

At the other’s question, Stride grinned beneath her mask, hands moving to clasp behind her head as she kicked her legs out onto the table before her. “We went and found someone who might know about the whole cryptid deal. Had to go and patch her up ‘fore she went and died on us, but from the sounds of it, she ended up seein’ too much and gettin’ torn up ‘cause she ended up gettin’ caught. Once she’s up and talkin’, we could probably get a lot outta her.”

Stride paused, mulling over something in her head, then gave a chuckle. “If everyone else ends up havin’ their heads stuck up their asses, then that means we’ll just end up gettin’ promoted sooner. Less competition and all that shit.”

The idea was a novelty, and she quite liked it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Alexander Wiseman Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Crystal
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Issac chortled ,offered a half hearted smile at the suggestion of a drink. He did need one, but he also didn't. Many nights had Issac simply drank his life away, he had stared up at the world from the bottom of a bottle more times than he cared to admit. At the moment however that suggestion pulled on him stronger than it had in years.

" Only if you go drinkin with me." He said in a joking tone.

She went on about the person she had found, Issac quickly drew the connection to the vampire Montana had been dealing with upon their arrival. The news she had been torn up after learning to much worried him. If who ever was willing to kill anyone with any idea as to what was going on, well then that just added another layer of shit to deal with. Not the fact that whom ever would kill, but rather how many of the bodies were just victims of the classic blunder of 'seeing to much'. Sure it'd be easier to figure out what was going on sense all the bodies and what not could be linked to the killings, but the killings with more purpose would be harder to find. More leads to chase down, more foot work. And here they were, stuck in timeout because of poor mission planning.

" Have any leads on who did it? I know Alexander and Kora had talked with the wolves around here. They turn up anything?"

" Sounds like you two are gonna get a cookie out of this while mom and dad ground the rest of us. Where is the kid anyways? She do well or did she freeze up after finding what's her face?" Issac was curious how Crystal had handled the whole situation, with her being new to not only SCION but the whole supernatural world, and the gore that it came with it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Alexander Wiseman Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Crystal
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“What,” Stride began freely, “ya need me to hold your hair when ya start tossin’ up? Look, man, I know ya well ‘nough, but not that well.” She didn’t seem to notice much of Issac’s internal dialogue, attention currently stolen away by a can of soda she was reaching for. As her fingers wrapped about the black aluminum, she grinned, moving to pop the tab and relishing the soft hissing that followed.

“Accordin’ to Lulu,” she went on, taking a pause to pull away her mask, “it turns out that the York Pack ended up havin’ more of a hand in things than we thought.” A sip, fabric pulled up once again. “Some of ‘em were cartin’ off the cryptid when she saw ‘em, and when we found ‘er- our new source- she was in some alley somewhere. Fucked up pretty bad.”

Another pause, this time to lower the drink. Carefully, Stride lifted a finger, and, placing it against her collarbone, spoke again. “From here…” her finger traveled, then, mapping out the scratches inflicted on their guest. “To here. Had a buncha bites, too. Even if they weren’t the Yorks, some werewolves really wanted the chick dead.”

The can was returned to her hand. “Don’t know much about what they found out, but Kora said that the local packs would apparently stay outta things. ‘parrently not, though.” A shrug. “Thought she went off to talk to the Yorks, too, so it just makes things even more of a pain in the ass to deal with.”

At Issac’s next question, the woman’s grin returned, and, absentmindedly, she made a slight gesture with her soda. “Last I saw Crystal, she was hangin’ with the other rookies. Did pretty damn well out there, though, gotta give the kid that; was the one who found the body, ya know. Went and froze up a lil’ when she actually got there, but she did real good.” Stride gave a slight nod at her own words, admittedly proud of the young werewolf. After all, she had been one of the people often called in to deal with the girl, and with their similarities, it hadn’t taken long for Stride to take a shine to Crystal.

It was nice knowing the kid had true potential, and seemed to have enough of a stomach to at least keep from barfing at the sight of a mauling.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Crystal Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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Issac shrugged off her response not allowing the disappointment show on his face, even if it wasn't a date thing it still sucked to be turned down by a friend for drinks. Listening to the rest of what she had to say. Arching an eyebrow when Stride mapped out Lulu's wounds.

" Sounds like it was pretty nasty, hope she heals up well. " Issac nodded a bit glancing away from the female fighter. " we really don't know who attacked our lady friend other than it had been werewolves. Good to hear the kid's doin' alright. She seems to be the most dependable rookie we have. She didn't freak out or nothing.. Hmm. " Issac gave a sage like nod. He just sorta sank into silence not really knowing where to go with any of this.

He was after all locked in a safehouse waiting to be questioned by Derrick. They had Longbow Upstairs, Alexander was probably dealing with him. His mind went through a check list off all the others in the house, he haddn't talked to the kids, not that he really wanted to but it might be wise to see what they had found, unless they were gonna do some sort of team meeting and discuss what the hell was going on. He frowned a bit , puzzled at what his next move should be. Christiana was off in her room, probably still fuming at Issac... Maybe he should go apologize to her.... or at least let her know that Longbow was alright.

"Do you think I should go apologize to Christiana, or at least let her know Longbow is alright, or just let it be? I'm not terribly good with this sorta situation..." Issac admitted studying the glass window and the street below, it overlooked the rear of the building where he had parked the van and his rental car, he looked at everything but Stride at this point. If Stride didn't have a useful answer he'd probably wander off to see what was going on in the 'rookie lounge' or see what Fel was upto...

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"I do actually agree with you." Oren responded from where she stood, at that point sewing up the incision in the creature's front with as neat a stitch as one could manage when time was a big factor.

"Used to be human. Not one anymore." she remarked.
"And I can't honestly see someone wanting to do this to themselves."

She'd decided not to acknowledge any snide remarks on Spire's part. Indeed on anyone's, as she was set on the task at hand and quite determined to do it well. Even the appearance of Avalon didn't elicit much of a reaction other than:

"I'll make sure to join in your pep talk when I'm not up to my elbows in viscera."

In any normal circumstances, she would not give much of a chance for this creature's survival. She had undergone some massive level of trauma and for what expertise the researcher had, the whole thing should have been seen to by a proper surgeon. Still, she had cheated death once at least, maybe it would be two it a row.

With the stitching complete, or at least satisfactory, Oren taped some wads of gauze over the thing. The cryptid lay with her eyes shut, breathing turned shallow and even. The painkillers were either doing their job admirably, or she was about to die. The physiology was a bit too alien to say for certain one way or the other.

"Think you've got everything?" she asked over to the young hunter.
"Once that's taped up I'm not sure there's a lot else that can be done for now as Mother Theresa over there had suddenly taken against healing people..." she paused and straigtened up a moment.
"So I might as well go and see if I'm unemployed yet."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield
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Given the lapse of silence in response to her joke, it didn’t take long for Stride to realize that it had been taken seriously. With a snort, she gave a slight wave of her hand, using the other to adjust her mask to a more comfortable position. “Relax, man, I was fuckin’ with ya; ‘course, still wouldn’t be ‘round to hold your hair for ya, but I could go for a beer or somethin’.”

With that, she finished off the rest of her drink, smashing the can against the side of the couch before tossing it into a nearby trash can. “But yeah,” she said, popping a particularly stiff part of her neck, “ya should probably go say somethin’ to Christina ‘fore she ends up filin’ complaints or some shit like that. Doubt she’d care much ‘bout Masky, though.” Idly, Stride began to thumb a loose patch of fabric peeling from the couch. “Unless they’re bangin’ or some shit, in which case, ya really don’t have to tell me.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Alexander Wiseman Character Portrait: Arcturus. Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield
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Derrick's lips curled up in a smirk at Alexander's statement "Yes well, I do enjoy being a courier and delivering packages." He was silent as Alexander dragged Arc off, and as Montana led away the wildcard known as Spire.

His silence was broken as he heard Stride's words about 'the bosses out to get them'. "Trust me Stride, your teammate has done enough of a job screwing things up for you then the bosses ever could."

Before anyone could go into a panic thinking that the teammate was them he turned to look at Issac and Stride. "And it's not either of you by the way, though everyone blundered a bit today it's the person who is not here right now that caused the most commotion." His voice took on a darker tone "I'll explain what happened when Christina is down, after all I want another mage around to confirm how inappropriate that medieval idiot acted before I decide the proper course of action next time I see him." His tone evened out after a quick pause. "Issac if possible could please tell Christina to come back down after you've apologized to her."

Pausing for a moment he reached into one of the grocery bags and pulled out a box of granola bars and passed it to Issac. "Oh and since you're headed in that direction could you please give her these, they should help with any energy drain by using magic she is experiencing." How Derrick knew Christina was experiencing energy drain was not explained as he moved on to his next task.

After he was done speaking he moved to Kora and handed her a bag of grocery that was full of various candy and chocolates. "Here, we are going to be stuck here for awhile I know werewolves have a higher metabolism. So I bought this for you and Crytsal, share it how you want." Truthfully Derrick just bought it because Kora liked candy, but he didn't need the others to know that he had a heart.

After giving one bag to Kora he then went to put the rest of the bags away in the kitchen. Putting them away consisted of placing the bags on the counter and then going back to the main room to have a chat with Stride.

Skipping the pleasantries the mage went straight to the point. "Do you feel up to donating some blood today? I was informed by the higher ups that we are running low on blood supplies in here. With two extra vampires joining us and one being heavily injured, we are in dire need of blood." His lips curled up once again as he spoke the next part. "So Stride are you willing to let me stab you? You can stab me back if you know how to draw blood."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Fel flinched after Oren scolded her twice, in her instinctual desire to heal she forgotten that the Vampire did not like touching without warning. The scolding and her general guilt and confusion at wanting another living creature made the Fallen wheel off to try to make sense of everything. A hard feat when her head was pounding fiercely, eventually the pounding subsided enough for her to make a move.

/Montana would know what to do/ Fel thought to herself, after all the man was wise beyond his years and knew her the best. With that she wheeled her chair over to his door. She hesitated as she sense the presence of someone injured, though that hesitation gave way to fear that Montana had gotten hurt while she was caught up in her own feelings.

Pushing through the door she caught Montana's last words. 'If you can give me intel to take into my meeting, I can persuade my superiors to allow me to form an alliance between us, and set up a steady flow of information, and cooperation in a manner that would help, rather then hinder.'

Fel was surprised to find a man she had never seen before standing in front of Montana. He was tall and seemed nice, though she could sense something off about the man. The temptation to touch Spire and find out what was wrong with him was high. With a sigh she pushed down the urge and focused on the more urgent task at hand.

"Oh dear did I interrupt a peace negotiation? Well I don't really have the same sway that Montana does, but I do think that working together is always the best way." A small smile appeared on her face. "After all we can get things done quicker and save more people if we help each other instead of hindering."

She wheeled the chair through the door and headed towards Lulu. "Anyways I'll just fix her up and be on my way out." Reaching towards the sleeping vampire she brushed the woman's hair out of her face. "Hello miss Lulu, I'm just here to give you a healing boost so you'll be able to recover soon." With that she moved her hand onto the vampire's shoulder and let her powers fix up any lingering wounds.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Though Lulu had been out cold for the trip from the medical cot to a bed, she became fairly quickly aware that she had been moved. There was a pillow beneath her head, and far less noise as she started to come around. 

One voice vaguely familiar, and one new. The same went for their scents.

She laid stock still as they spoke, at first out of fear and confusion, and then out of interest; A detective learned more when nobody thought they were being heard. 

She listened for a minute or two, hearing the exchange take place and following the game of cat and mouse as best as she could given her level of lucidity. From what she could tell, Mr. Montana was dangling bait, and Mr. Schippers was dancing around to figure if he could take it off of the hook. 

Then another voice, along with the soft, indistinct noise of a wheelchair's metal glide. Lulu could smell the Fallen, and hear the quality of her tone as she drew closer: The girl knew Montana well, and was not afraid of the wolf.

Either Mr. Schippers was safe, or Montana was far more dangerous than Lulu had previously assessed based purely on his species.

The Fallen girl spoke to her, then, and touched her, which Lulu resisted the urge not to draw back from. Instead, she stirred in her sleep and let an easy smile cross her lips, leaning into the touch.

She yawned once, having decided that the time she could plausibly be asleep was up, and rolled onto one side with a drowsy, slow motion. Her knees curled up into a more natural sleeping position, though one that was distinctly indecent for someone in a short, torn dress.

She did not know much about the Schippers man’s motives or character, but she was aware of his gender. 

Her long-lashed eyelids blinked once and then rested shut, and she nuzzled her face against the pillow. “Thought you were the kind of guy to buy a lady dinner before throwing her into bed,” she mumbled lazily, her tone still lagging with drunken weight.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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The corners of Issac's mouth curled into a quiet smile, one that managed to touch his eyes for a split second, but it was washed away like chalk on a side walk when Derrick's words caught him. He had already figured that he hadn't fucked up the most but at the end of the day it was still something to take note of, if only on a personal level if Arc and Rafael's blunders overshadowed his own. When Derrick got to suggestion, Issac simply nodded taking the bag from the man. He didn't even think to question how Derrick had known , after all with both of them being a mage, it would have been like Issac why he offered Stride or Arc a bottle of water after a mile long run or something. Least that's how Issac saw it.

" Don't know how responsive she'll be to me, but I'll do as you ask." He said , sounding like he was off to clean latrines for the next week. He offered Stride one more smile, as if to say ' well funs over' before heading off to the direction Christina had fled.

He moved through the house quietly, more of a force of habit than actively trying to sneak about. He guessed Christina had long figured out about him showing up.Better lead with a peace offering.... He Simply tapping twice on the door panel , pausing a polite moment before speaking.

" Hey Christina, Derrick showed up with Arc intoe and told me to bring these to you. "He ruffled the bag a bit. " Looks like a grocery bag full of granola bars or something... " He fumbled around for words for a moment, finding himself feeling extremely awkward for some-reason... " You probably don't wanna talk to me right now, rightly so probabl--- no just rightly so, but I wanted to apologize. " Why was this so awkward... just talking to a wooden door.. He felt like he was speaking with a mouth full of sawdust and was half sure if he spat it'd be there. He pushed on.

" I shouldn't have done that, suggesting you were just lucky. I forget that you're not a field agent. You've got a good head on your shoulders and I should have trusted that. You're right about me having a bias for some people 'round here but it has less to do with feelings of affection and more with pride... But at the end of the day you lab folk are the people who are really make a difference and i'm just another boot who can shoot at stuff...." Issac paused trying to gauge how the door was taking his words... It wasn't working well...

" Look I'm really not good at this sorta thing... So I'm gonna leave this here and leave before I say anything else stupid... uh, Derrick is gonna collect the reports and what not here soon, he also has some new information for us by the sounds of it... " He trailed off leaving the bag at the door. He hoped he hadn't offended her anymore.

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Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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At Derrick’s remark, Stride snorted, drawing a foot back to rest snugly in her lap. “Yeah, I heard a little somethin’ ‘bout that,” she droned, glancing at the sole of her boot out of the corner of her eye. She’d have to clean it when she had the time- a few splatters of maroon had ended up sticking to the sole, combining with previously existing mud and debris into an unappealing crust.

The hybrid was unconcerned at Derrick’s change in tone, given the fact that it wasn’t directed at her. She instead busied herself with shifting her legs, allowing for a better view of the other foot. Upon noticing that Issac was leaving, however, she raised her head, giving the other fighter a wry salute in return to his smile.

“Have fun,” she said, slipping both feet back onto the floor.

Stride had started to rise in order to get another soda when Derrick came back, and, casually, she allowed herself to drop back into her seat with an audible “thump”.

“Do I get a cookie after?” Without waiting for a response, Stride deftly rolled up her sleeve, revealing an amalgam of smooth flesh and scales. Thankfully, several veins were visible beneath the surface, and the woman idly scratched the flesh about them. “Ya better not be lyin’ ‘bout me gettin’ the stab ya after,” she mumbled, picking at one of the plates on her skin. “‘fter all, ‘we’re in dire need of blood’, yeah?”

Of course, even if Derrick opted out of donating, she would at least get the benefit of getting more reasons to call the mage a pussy- and that was always a plus in Stride’s eyes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield Character Portrait: Derrick Avalon
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Christina’s current position was thus: curled rather pitifully upon her bed, head buried beneath her pillows as she tried to stifle the sound of the sobs and hide the tears that were part of her ordinary response when she became too scared, stressed, or angered – or any combination of the three. It had been rather embarrassing when she was younger (“Why are you crying?” “Because I’m ANGRY!”) but if she couldn’t get rid of it, at least she could make certain that she was alone before she gave in.

Issac was just about the last person she wanted to hear from, but she pressed her mouth harder against the pillow she was hugging, choking the sobs (which fed off each other) long enough to listen to his words. Words, which she had to admit helped her calmed down, begin breathing normally, and compose herself to open the door a crack.

“Apology accepted.” She said softly, angling her head so that her now loose hair would best hide her tear stained face. “And sorry for hitting you…” her voice was low, lest he hear evidence of her breakdown in it. “With all my ranting about professionalism, it was pretty hypocritical…” she smiled quickly, though with her face mostly hidden he might not see it. “I’ll be down soon.” And with that she swiped the granola bars and once again shut the door.

First things first, she bit into one of the snacks, helping her dwindling energy level, then with a huff pushed heavy black locks behind her ears. She broke the headache-relief charm, and then scrubbed at the reddened skin out of habit, followed by drawing out the few bits of makeup she carried with her. It wasn’t much but it would be enough. She had a bottle of water, which she used to wet a cloth and dab at her eyes before covering the temporary damage as best as she could.

A few gulps of the cool water finished the process, and Christina stood, composed as she was going to get on short notice. She fiddled with her hair, decided to leave it down and taking a final steadying breath, opened the door. She then walked to the main room and shyly peered in, almost looking like a different person without the elaborate updo.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Kovalenko Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Toby Schippers
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Spire’s fingers thrummed on the sidetable. His smile was skewed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Montana and the rest of them could be useful as temporary allies if the alleged crime syndicate was more than he and Toby could handle.

He looked Fel over as she entered. “I agree,” he said. “Working together is probably the best way. I don’t know if you’ve talked to Schofield, but failure to communicate was what dashed his plans last time we met. Keep us in the loop and we’re far more likely to stay out of your way.”

He moved out of the way as Fel moved toward Lulu.

“How about,” he said, “tell your friends in high places that you have two wonderfully cooperative hunters who would love to personally take you to meet someone who can aid your investigation, and who would likewise love to continue to lend a helping hand.”

Spire looked at Lulu as she stirred but did not linger in the looking. He had too many eyes on him, two of them the intensely studious black ones, and in any case he didn’t need his mind getting away with him—and not in the way Lulu was trying to evoke. Spire’s olfactory system was too sensitive to look too far past the reek of vampire, so his were more like thoughts of hanging the little siren upside-down and cutting her throat so her borrowed blood spilled over her dainty face.

See. Mind getting away. Real problem.
Anyway, these particular supernaturals hadn’t given them a good enough reason for any of that yet, so no logic in dwelling.
The itch was subdued after a moment.
Yeah, he could still do the thought-reframing technique nonsense.


“Yeah,” said Toby, still surprised at how comparatively gentle Oren had been with him considering the way he had seen her cuss out her coworkers. “Yeah, I think I’ve got the whole—“ He paused and changed his mind. “—Well, almost all of it.” He looked up. “I mean, I’d better make sure. Sorry, I’m slower than you. I c—can seal it up in a sec.” As a matter of fact, Toby was quite certain he’d gotten it all—he worked slower, yes, but he’d had to remove a few bullet fragments while she’d had to deal with containing a few yards of viscera. He was lying, and lying did not fall under his area of expertise, but this was an opportunity. He wanted to study the creature without the vampire looming. “You go ahead, I’ll finish.”

Even if Oren spotted the lie, what she wouldn’t spot was malice, or ill-intent for the creature, unless she imagined it, because there was none in Toby’s big-eyed face. Pity, nervousness, and a curiosity to figure out what had happened to this Thing was what his face read.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christina Eberhart-Taroni Character Portrait: Issac Schofield
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Issac had already stepped away before he heard what Christina had said or even seen her. He hadn't stuck around long enough because he didn't want to poke something he shouldn't. He was wary. He itched all over from the now dry sweat and dust from the whole ordeal at the morgue... Issac had walked down the hallway and was entering his room when Christan stepped out.

This was the most boring part of any mission, the wait. He undid the flannel shirt that was part of his cover and shrugged it of.
The form fitting covert body-armor under was worn much like a tanktop. The cool wash of air than ran over was mindnumbingly refreshing as he un-buckled the three segments and laid them neatly on a side table, next to his bed.

He needed some peace of mind... He uncliped the holster for both of his weapons and set them neatly on the table as well.
His boots came next. Pushing a hand against his jaw he frowned, the two day old beard was bothersome... He walked off to the wash stand.

After a moment he was done, clean shaven. He still felt itchy everywhere else, but there wasn't much to be done about that at the moment. He fell face first onto his bed and just laid there for a while... he'd get up when someone needed him or they knocked. Odds were he'd have to give blood for the vampires anyhow. For now he'd enjoy the simpleness of cold soft sheets.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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"Fel." Montana greeted his favourite distraction with a courteous tone, and a polite, but not affectionate smile. His eyes didn't take on the normal softness they did when she was around either. Ever conscious of his body and and the tell tale signs they made when one betrayed oneself, Montana's feelings were well hidden between the veil of professionalism.

She had instinctively moved to heal Ms.Botrelle. Of course she did., she was a moth to pain. She had an ingrained need to mend physical wounds and sate the mental wounds that plagued the mind. This woman's mystery was irrelevant to the larger mechanisms of her biological, and perhaps spiritual, person.

Musing on the nature of green girl was better done in the meeting. All thoughts let back to the same source.

The comfortable sounds of flesh against linen, soft rustles as the former settled into the latter indicated Lulu was ready to be acknowledged as awake. Montana wanted to familiarize the two in his presence first, to see how their natural affinities reacted around each other. One half of Schippers and their resident Private Eye.

Lulu's initial play required naught but a small movement, innocent in nature that revealed the vixen hiding from her prey. Spire's response was dismissive, but not nonchalant. All noted by Montana who met Spire's eyes again around the same time his own left the vampires smooth skin.

"I believe I did take you to dinner before taking you to bed." He replied, referencing the blood pack he had fitted her with on arrival.


"I'll talk your proposition to the meeting, how it will be received, an operative moving with two hunters completely dark is something else entirely. I hope I have the sway to match the faith you've placed in me."

Either way, he would have had what eyes they had put on them. Montana didn't trust suspicious, but he was willing to work with it.

Out of the two present, the legs to die for seemed the more palpable of the two to work with. Perhaps the other brother, Toby, would be an interesting play off of Spire's predatory exterior.

He had one half of the family picture, he'd need to get the other one. So far they were shaping up to being the kind of people Montana could trust to get a job done.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roderic Alder Mayburry Montana Character Portrait: Spire Schippers Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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The momentary spike in Schippers’s heart rate did not escape Lulu, but he steadied it far too quickly to be someone she pegged as easily motivated by basic instinct: He, like the rest she had met so far, was a code to be cracked more with her mind than her body.

It made for a more interesting case, regardless. 

She opened her eyes, still heavy and lacking in focus, and turned first to the healer who had touched her. The healer was not a beautiful woman, from what Lulu saw n the shadows under her hood, but an interesting one. She had an easily learned face, and the tell-tale scent of a Fallen. “Hello, Fel,” Lulu said, taking the name cue from Montana. 

She then let her eyes wander over to the Schippers man, and furrowed her brow in his direction. He was hard, wolfish, and handsome, like the men she’d grown accustomed to working with during her time as a human. A charming smirk over venomous fangs, and a plan they would never even allude to having. “Mr… Spire?” she asked, though she had heard his name quite well already.

And finally, her lazy assessment of the room moved back to Montana, watching him with a different sharpness than that which she had observed the others. If anyone here knew what was going on, it was him: His moves were practiced, emotions veiled. He was playing the kind of game one would only notice being played if they, too, were participating. 

He was good at what he did.

“I suppose you did buy me dinner,” she said at last, tone joking as she propped herself up onto one elbow, “Though, I think you may have slipped me something. I can’t seem to remember coming into a bedroom. Or being invited to any meeting?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Kovalenko Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Fel Character Portrait: Toby Schippers Character Portrait: Silas Whitmore
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Cults, sacrifices, transformations, resurrections...Madison had to take a moment to ponder whether or not he had fallen into some kind of old-fashioned horror movie, before shrugging it off for a more serious train of thought. After all, what with the implications that were being set out before them, things weren’t exactly looking their most brightest.

Was once a human.

Not anymore.

Apparently disposed of, only to come back as a confused young woman walking the fine line between death and life. And even then, in spite of her state, completely rejected by their local Fallen. “Let it die.” Of course, while Madison was not the type to leap into assumptions (“assume” makes an ass out of you and me, dear Maddie), and planned to speak with both Cryptid, Fel, and the enigmatic miss Lulu alike, there was still the lingering sense that they had stumbled upon something...a bit bigger than they expected.

Nevertheless, Madison was growing tired of feeling his clothes cling to him with rapidly cooling moisture, so, seeing that his assistance was no longer necessary at the moment, he decided to go change before pursuing any further action. His old outfit- completely ruined at this point- went neatly into a biohazard bin, and he himself went into a hot shower to wash off the remaining blood. After all, while he had experienced no real negative effects in spite of being contact with the stuff, it was rather unpleasant to have against his skin.

Once he was fully dried and dressed, the vampire stepped from the bathroom, enjoying the lingering steam for a few moments before making his way to his claimed room. Upon getting there, Madison retrieved his purse from the end table, and, sitting himself on the bed, freed his work phone from beneath the piles of trinkets and pulled up the contacts list.

While he had been called in to help with properly identifying their cryptid, it never hurt to have another opinion in the matter.

With that in mind, Madison pressed his thumb gently upon the enter button, and, after waiting for the incessant “brrring”ing to end, brought the receiver up to his ear.

“Hello?” He began, unconsciously crossing his ankles. “This is Madison speaking. Sorry for calling up so suddenly; I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

With any luck, Silas wouldn’t have too much on his plate today.

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Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Silas Whitmore
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There were snakes in SCION library’s historical section— Green mambas and tree boas wrapped themselves about the antique chandeliers and corn snakes nestled up in the shelves. There was even a fully-grown reticulated python who had taken a liking to the warm patch above the heating vents by the “Nordic Gods” shelf.

All beasts considered, the young scholar hunched over his notes in the back corner should have been far more alarmed.

But Silas Whitmore was not phased by the snakes—

Or, rather, not anymore phased than he was by the gecko clinging to the frame of his glasses, the lizard burrowed into his mop of brown hair, or the tortoise chewing on the lace of his shoe.

After six years of living with his “curse,” he had grown accustomed to the resident reptiles.

Besides, good, quiet company was hard to refuse.

The man poured over his work (Jotting notes from an old parchment of runes and images) with sharp blue eyes, which were magnified by his reading glasses to cartoonish proportions. The cuffs of his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the backside of his left hand was smeared silver with graphite from his own writing.

Silas was the epitome of focus: The kind of perfectly poised scholar who appeared on promotional ads for brain-boost vitamins.

That is, until the desk phone rang. 

The resounding prrrng! made him leap up from his rolling chair, starling the snake around his neck into tightening its hold and sending the lizard on his head running down toward his pocket for cover. He knocked two books and one plastic globe onto the floor as he lurched forward to grab the phone, and even then tangled himself in the spiral wire as he moved it toward his ear. 

The graphite on his hand smudged across his cheek like soot on a chimney sweep.

“History and Archaeology Department, Silas Whitmore speaking,” he said brightly. 

Then, realizing it was upside down, flipped it around and repeated, “Uh, pardon, this is— Oh, hello Madison—" And then, "Please, Richard, I can’t breath—”

There were several rustling noises as Silas coaxed the small ball python loose from his throat and let it curl around his free hand, “You’re not interrupting, anything, Maddie. Just pulled a few more resources out of the archive on our late green-blooded friend, and some possible matches on the species. Nothing conclusive, but— Ack, Shirley!”

He paused to pluck the glasses-gecko away from the lens she had wandered onto and replaced her on the frame, “Anyways, um… What can I do for you, Madison?”