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The Multiverse

Setting



Years ago fire ravaged this building, nearly burning it to the ground. All that was left was a burnt out husk and as many questions surrounding the fire as mysteriously as it had started. If rumor were to be believed, it was started in the archives that held numerous occult and magical items, and due to poorly designed fire suppression systems was able to spread throughout the old building.

In the time since its fall, the landscaping has taken over, the pavement nearby cracked and flaking away in chunks.

The organization and it's agents that once called the building home having fallen into an equal amount of disrepair; tied up in bureaucratic stubbornness and political red tape.

However, now there is talk of repairing and setting things to right once again.
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MCU Headquarters

The derelict remains of a once bustling Mythical Crimes Unit's Terran Headquarters

Minimap

MCU Headquarters is a part of Ellum.

2 Places in MCU Headquarters:

3 Characters Here

Axolotls [1] This Mexican walking fish (who prefers it when people call her a salamander) is highly intelligent. It comes in its very own mobile fish bowl.
Gwathel [1] "Shadows whisper, shadows bind. Like threads of gossamer, the darkness creeps up, and devours you."

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Character Portrait: Catherine Dumitrescu Character Portrait: Brandon Hammerstine
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She was quiet as she listened to him, while picking bits and pieces of trash off of her coat, pants, and out of her hair. "Parson Lessard..." Catherine said thoughtfully as she mulled this new bit of information over. That child had been a disaster, and rightfully so considering how he had been turned and left to wander the city alone. "Psychic outbursts are fairly common I hear." She commented nonchalantly; she'd even had a few of her own, but not within recent memory. "However... there is some truth to that bit of information not being widely spread."

Catherine couldn't recall if she'd ever told Alexander or not; more than likely hadn't as they both had their own secrets that they kept from one another. While that wasn't exactly a healthy way of dealing with things, it somehow allowed their marriage to stay relatively intact. "I wouldn't let the cursed thing in the house because it smelled; it reeked to high heaven of the worst kind of magic." She wasn't terribly inclined to believe him, but would rather sooner than later admit that it was a neat trick as to how his sire had managed to turn him. "Your sire must have had a taste for blood tinged with death."

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It looked like she did believe him. He smiled at that. He grinned. "I took good care of Babbit. He was clean. Physically." Magically, of course he reeked of necromancy. He shrugged. "My magic didn't survive the turning. Or rather, necromancy didn't. Luckily, my psychic abilities remain, or I think my sire would have simply killed me." There had certainly been attempts, if, by vampire standards, playful ones.

He shrugged and smiled. "I missed you." More than he liked to admit. "All of you. Is Laura doing okay? Uncle Lex?" He wanted to know, for sure, more than just rumors. "My cousins?" He bit his bottom lip, a fang peeking out. "I tried to escape earlier, but fledgling bonds kept me close." And his needs as a fledgling as well.

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Catherine eyed him with suspicion as he claimed he had kept the familiar clean. "There is clean, and then there is clean." She said, refusing to explain the difference between the two. "I'm sure had your sire killed you, that that would have been relief on your part then I suppose." Catherine added as she picked a piece of vegetable peel of her jacket, a look of disdain evident on her face.

Sighing she looked at the gaunt man, claiming to be her nephew. "Laura is fine, Alexander is... Alexander. I'm sure your cousins would send their love if they knew anything." She answered, not telling him that this was the first she had been out of the fae realm in quite some time. "Well then, it sounds like the bonds did exactly what they were supposed to do."

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He smiled and stepped closer holding a hand out to help her up. "I guess. They forbid me from finding you." He admitted and then shrugged. "I never was that good at following orders." he admitted and then tried to smile. She seemed okay, at least a little. It seemed like she believed him, and if that was right, then it was amazing.

That didn't change that he was starving. Hesitating, he bit his bottom lip and smiled. "Come on. I need to pick up some juice boxes. There's a shop a few blocks down that carries them." It was safer than hunting and he couldn't go as far between feedings as he wished that he could.

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"I doubt you could have even found me until now." She said while she took his hand up off the ground. But, she didn't say much more than that. The intervening years had been something she'd not wished to discuss, even with people like Lex and Molly. It had been her own private grief that she had refused to share out with others. "But you're right, you weren't good at following orders, regardless of who issued them." Catherine agreed as she finished brushing the last bit of garbage from her coat.

"Juice? Ugh." She remarked making her own expression of distaste this time.

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"It's either the juice boxes, or I go hunt." He murmured and then closed his eyes. "I would rather not hunt, if possible. I don't like...I don't like that I have to." He didn't like the blood lust, or the fact that he had feed on people. he was rather ashamed of both, truth told.

"I can't exactly walk up to the blood bank and demand a few bags." Though he rather thought it would be funny to try it out. The man shrugged and then looked away from her, seeking to change the topic. "What happened to HQ? I expected to find it still standing."

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Catherine resisted the urge to smirk at this change of events, it almost seemed like the shoe was on the other foot now. "I see." She said knowing quite well how he felt, but never bothering to say as such. While it left one with either of their particular dietary needs feeling good for a time, on the back side of that sugar like high was the guilt and self sabotage that occurred. "Well I suppose needed must be met, one way or another." Catherine agreed as she stooped to pick up the sunglasses that had fallen out of her pocket.

"Oh that?" She asked, returning his question with one of her own, not seeming terribly interested at the moment. "A fire broke out, they think it started in the archives; they would like to claim arson but never had any leads."

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"With the sheer number of people who could have doe it, good luck figuring out who even if it was arson." He snorted, amused. "What remains of their archives is pitiful. It's also unwarded, meaning some idiot mundane breaking in for shelter may now know." he wasn't too surprised that the council had messed up the clean up. Hm. maybe he could go hunt later. Blood from the source always tasted better than from the box, magically preserved or not.

"And I could do without the need to be met. God, I forgot what being a fledgling is like. It's ridiculous to have to consume so much." Needless to say, he was not a fan. However, his sire was not one to let him avoid it for long. For that matter, he was surprised said sire had had him tracked down yet. Maybe he hadn't recovered from the psychic backlash of having their bond severed. Brandon hadn't felt like being gentle, once he had figured out how.

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Catherine just offered a shrug, "Yes well... Council is finally getting their wish of my deposition on whole thing, though frankly I wasn't even here when the whole fire started." She had been doing her due diligence as an ambassador to the varying courts of the unseen. "But, that's neither here nor there, and while I do agree that the Council seriously messed up by not warding the site again.. it's not exactly my problem." She explained. There was a certain freedom having been relieved of her duties with MCU, but somehow she felt that it wasn't to be for very long.

"Look Brandon, you've been around the block once with this. You know that if you don't meet your need for blood that someone will likely find this whole thing out, and put you down."

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"Ah, but my sire loves and cherishes me as his little dress up doll. Better yet, he has a ton of political pull. I doubt worse than a reprimand would occur." Still, he began walking in the direction of the shop. "Come and walk with me though. i know i need the blood, even if I'd rather not." There were juice boxes to be consumed a block or two away. He was sure he was pleased with the idea, and by that he meant that he really did not approve, but he'd do it anyway.

Still, it bore saying. "I'm surprised you haven't asked who turned me yet." He figured she'd want to kill them for it, or she'd at least have a stronger reaction. Maybe she was still in shock? Then again, he had always been pants at predicting his aunt's reactions to anything.

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"I'll hazard a guess considering your last phrase there that it would be one of the Dragon court." She replied, which meant that there was more going on under the surface that she realized. The vampires had always been a deceitful bunch, and tended to play their cards closer to their chest than the fae ever did. "Believe me, I am well acquainted with most of their ilk." Maybe she was still in shock, or maybe she had spent too many years not using the language, but English was not coming to her very easily tonight.

As she walked with him she considered all of this, it seemed that they had taken advantage of her fondness for Brandon, and grief at his passing.

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"Bel did." He confirmed and kept walking. "Or rather, Isis." He admitted. "I was kept cloistered tight, a doll for Isis to play with, but never to be seen outside my suite." That had rankled the most. Oh, he understood why of course. If his family had caught even a glance, the first few years, then he wouldn't have remained there for long. Being so tightly confined had meant keeping a better eye on his blood lust as well. There had been a major worry, he knew, given his past.

"I'm not to be out unless escorted by a member of the Court either. Or rather, wasn't to be out. Like I said, I'm not that great at listening." Though technically, his aunt was a member of the court.

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Catherine was silent again as she listened to this new found information. "I find it interesting that they kept you so secluded." She finally said as they reached their first intersection down from the headquarters. "Especially ones like Isis and Ra who seem to be hesitant to spark the ire of anyone, yet put in place a facade of anything goes." She had found the Dragon Court tiring, boring, and in many ways crude. "But I believe most of that was for your own protection, if they weren't a slight bit paranoid."

Most of the vampire world had been chomping at the bit once they discovered that the boy, now man who had been Parson Lessard was alive; and in the care of an MCU officer. The whole thing had been a mess, and forced them unwillingly to take sides.

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"I mostly found it annoying." He admitted and glanced around, then crossed the intersection. "Half may have been for my protection. Half was fear of you and Uncle Lex." He smiled, amused. "You both scare them. Bel, at least, doesn't think he's stronger than you, or thinks he may be fairly close, at best." He glanced to her hand, and was momentarily surprised to see no ring. "...Your binding is gone?" He knew the purpose of that damned thing.

Years in seclusion, only being called by nicknames meant he longed to hear his own name again. He wasn't going to say that though. He was just glad to be out, even if he had no doubt that he'd be paying for it as soon as the Dragon Court got their hands on him.

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"Oh I'd be more afraid of Alexander than myself." Catherine commented. She knew better than to create problems within either court unless she could quickly solve them. However she still found herself surprised that they had done this. What could have possibly been their reasoning? "I think their fear is misplaced though, I doubt I could even begin to touch them." She assured him. There was a reason the pair had ruled as long as they had; strength, and sheer power. She remembered Rahal's stories, and while she took them with consideration, Catherine suspected there was some amount of truth to them.

"My what? Oh..." She said looking at her hand with a frown. "No... there are other ways to bind a person." She explained rubbing the spot where the ring normally sat. "The ring can be removed.. it's more of a monitoring device than anything.... and it's something Tatianna requires."

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He frowned and took he hand abruptly, examining it, before releasing it, just as abruptly. Brandon still struggled to make his movements look human lately. He frowned darkly, and shook his head. "They shouldn't have you bound at all. You aren't mcu anymore; they don't have the right." They had no control over her, as far as he was concerned. He had never liked the bindings himself, and suspected that they were why he no longer had magic at his fingertips.

The bindings must have interfered with his turning. That had to be why. "So. What have you been up to? MCU seems mostly disbanded as a whole, for some ridiculous reason." Or at least the local offices seemed it. Without police, of a sort, he knew incidents had risen between mundanes and magicals, and he didn't even want to know how many crimes had gone unsolved because of the lack.

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"Some of us are bound as punishment, I would think you would remember that." She said plainly as she returned her hands to her pockets. Catherine knew what her punishment was, and as far as most of the unseen was concerned she was still serving it out. The fae were not nearly as stringent in their rules, but still recommended that their courtiers uphold the laws when outside of the court. Sighing she tried to find a way to explain this newest gap in time, "Disbanded yes, and I've largely been keeping to myself. There isn't much to do within the courts." Catherine explained.

"I do know that Alexander and June voted against the decision to disband, however they were over ruled by a majority." She said with a shrug. "It's an adjustment for some of us, some more than others." Catherine commented noticing his awkward movements.

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"I maintain I needed therapy more than binding." He grumbled then paused, glancing into a glamoured shop window. This was the place. "And I'm working on it. It's...weird." He shrugged. "And it's not like anyone tries to appear human in the court." that was half of what made it so hard. The vampire sighed and ran a hand over his scalp, missing his hair, as he had for years now.

"June and Uncle Lex have always been the sanest voices on that damned council." Definitely the sanest. he glanced to his aunt and smiled. "I'm kind of reluctant to wander off." He admitted, a smile hovering about his lips. He had only just found her after all. "But you probably need a moment to, I don't know, take in that I am alive, of sorts."

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"Yes but... as tightly linked as some magics are to emotions, it was better in the long run." She pointed out. "You might want to work a bit harder though, you'll never survive unless you do." Catherine added, failing to mention that there were also persons in the court, like herself who preferred to appear human. For now, she'd likely keep this new found information to herself during her next visit to the court.

"Alive? Why don't we say dead man walking?" She asked wryly. Catherine was still trying to figure out what had happened, as Brandon's side of the story was only that; one side. "Wander Brandon. You have an eternity."

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He flinched at that reminer. "Well. I suppose we both do, now." An eternity like this. Great. The blood, at least, would make him look a bit healthier. The man smiled and glanced to her. "How will I find you again?" That was the key, after all. no point splitting off, if he wasn't going to ever see her again.

There was no mention of her finding him. he'd have to come up with a better option that staying in the archives though, that much was clear. For one, he was tired of looking homeless.

It was, perhaps, a good thing he had never suffered from too many morals. Plans already raced through his head on how to raise the funds to get a nicer place to stay. No one would miss the homeless after all.

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"I suppose you're right." Catherine agreed, having never really given her nephew much explanation about things, but it seemed that he was a quick study; at least from what little information he could get in the court, despite being so cloistered. "Find me again?" She asked mildly confused, then remembered she had made it a point to not exactly tell anyone where she was or had been. Catherine had just assumed it would only be natural that she "I'd tell you to stop by my office, but that's been burnt to a crisp and I technically don't have one anymore..." She mused quietly. "Well, we sold the house shortly after.. well you know." She said making a slight gesture with her hand. Never did she mention the time spent back with the fae, Catherine felt that he wouldn't understand it.

"Look, my phone still works.. use that." She finally said finding it difficult to give him an exact answer. Now back in the current realm, she had duties to take care of, and that meant paying a visit to the Dragon Court; as detestable as the felt.

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He nodded at that note. "I remember the number." he agreed. "I'll give you a call once I have a place and phone of my own." He gave his aunt a grin. "Just...don't tell the Dragon Court you've seen me just yet?" He requested, looking all too amused that he had even managed to escape at all. For all that Bel and taro were long time parents and sires, they never seemed to realize that he wasn't nearly as biddable as any of their other children, and no punishment given had affected him well enough to work for long.

He had always been hard to punish, when it came down to it, especially if he didn't care about your opinion at all. it didn't surprise him that the house had been sold. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if she had spent a chunk of that time with Queen Tatiana, his...well however they were related. He had never paid attention to that.

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"Oh I likely won't, this is just between you and me." She said conspiratorially. If the Court thought that these kinds of politics were perfectly fine to play, then she'd play some of her own. It would be a game of chess, and Catherine wasn't about to become a pawn. "Do us both a favor and stay low for awhile, at least until you can get yourself a safe house." She suggested. So far no one knew that she had returned from the fae realms, and she'd like to keep in that way; at least until she'd spoken with a few trusted allies.

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"I plan on it." He agree easily enough. "If some old contacts of mine pull through, it should only be a month or two before I have one." he admitted, not willing to admit what it was he would be doing to earn the funds for that so quickly. He grinned. "A good thing I was paranoid about taking care of Bethy as a kid. I still have some cash under some pseudonyms from then." Not a lot, but it would be a decent starter fund, to be sure.

The vampire grinned and gave his aunt a tight hug. "Stay safe,o kay? And let Uncle Lex and Dawson and all know what happened, where I am?" He missed his family, after all, and was glad to let them know where he had disappeared off too. He couldn't wait until he got to see them all again. It shouldn't be too long, especially considering how their family didn't really die, it seemed.

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Visiting the scene of a violent tragedy was something Gwathel always found alarmingly interesting. She could see, feel, and touch more than the average human could. She had found the more violent the event, the more it seemed to bleed into the location. It never mattered if anyone, or no one died, was maimed, or hurt, or if anything precious was lost. It only mattered that it was violent.

And what was more violent than fire?

It didn't help that it brought out the nature of her curse. Fire was concerning that way, destroying all it touches, yet bringing in new life, and renewal. It was like what she had become, but in reverse. She didn't want to admit that's why she'd sought the remains of infernos out. Hoping to find some metaphorical key to switch things back to how they used to be, and to sate her need for destruction.

This one was particularly interesting to her. She'd heard whispers of it, tales of part of a large, secretive building exploding into hot, angry flames. She'd been stuck on Terra for so long, she was unsure why she'd waited until now to seek it out.

Maybe it was just because Nebrajit was far from where she'd been, or maybe it was because she hoped for an answer. Either way she was here now.

Rain trickled down from a lazy gray sky, pelting the lone woman along the road. She was tall, and lithe, walking along the cracked, and crumbling asphalt with deft strides. No matter how graceful her movements though, something about her just seemed out of place, even at a distance. Something about her was just wrong in an undefinable way. She was something that wasn't supposed to exist, but a suit of human flesh kept her glued into reality.

What made it strange was just how human, and normal she looked.

Dirty-blonde locks of well maintained hair tumbled down over her shoulders, reaching to her upper back; now plastered to her skin from the rain. It contrasted on her simple black pants-suit, trimmed in ivory-white, and tailored to near-perfection. She wore white open-toed wedges, and clutched a black leather bag to her side. While she looked overdressed for a burnt out section of a lowly town, nothing visible about her screamed wrong.

And yet, any average person who ever even glimpsed her would attest to just how unnerving her mere presence was.

Luckily, it seemed like no one was around. She closed her eyes as she trudged on, listening closely to the whispers of her brood. She could hear them, always, but it took focus to understand them. Hisses, clicks, and shrill screeches bombarded her, but a clear mind, and heavy attention turned them into a chorus of hushed speech. She could hear everything her little ones saw, and felt.

So much of the arachnid chatter was about deep puddles the tiniest Wolf Spiders couldn't cross, or the webs of Long-Legs jiggling with rain, drawing them out in case it was prey. One courageous Black Widow's voice stuck out, ever so lethal, but so tiny, it had it's eight glowing eyes trained on a Pigeon. The bird was wet, and taking refuge in a windowsill, trying to ride out the weak storm. The Widow wanted to eat it so bad.

It made Gwathel giggle. It had no chance, but with a single soft whisper she dispatched one of her brood to assist. A very large Hawk-Tarantula, massive for his already large kind, and a most adept hunter. It would ambush the bird, subdue it with venom, and leave it to the widow. It was her little gift, to make a dream come true.

After all, the chatter provided the Intel she needed. Sure, it was all useless day-to-day observations, but nothing she heard mentioned any humans.

She was alone, as far as she could tell. She sent tiny Wolf Spider scouts ahead, and picked up her pace. She was almost jogging, but between the slippery, and decaying ground, and wedge-shoes, it was more like a brisk power-walk.

She approached the old MCU building cautiously, tenderly. Despite the events being long over, she could feel the heart of the fire that consumed it. She could smelled the burning wood, and tasted the ash. The closer she got, the hotter, and more intense it was, the stronger the memory of trauma that Terra held onto became.

She stopped some fifty feet away from the steps up to the main entrance, the heat of the memory too intense for her to keep going.

That was what always happened in the end. It was an unfortunate side effect of what she used to be. Spirits of her ilk, those that created life from nothing, could feel everything, always. Even the memory of wood, or dust, and when something violent happened those memories would often replay endlessly. Like it or not. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memory swallow her.

She stood there, stone still for a good hour while feeling like she was being cooked alive, despite the rain.

It was a painful event, but the only way to block out the memory of a planet like this was to feel it wholly, to relive it. Once she was able to quell the echoes of the past, she set to work. Calling her brood to her, all the smallest spiders she could muster, and having them fan out. Their task was to spot but not touch any magical wards that might be left lying about. Normally something out of their capability, she'd prepped a rather powerful divination spell the day prior.

She cast it like a wide net over her clan, coating each spider in it's magic. They'd all be able to see wards. Gwathel just hopped the locations abandoned state meant that any abjurations or illusions cloaking them were gone.

She was starting to worry for her lovelies when they didn't report back for awhile with any sightings. A sense of dread came over her as she sat on the steps, worried one of her little ones would walk straight into its death. That unease went on for another ten minutes until the hissing voice of a tiny Wolf Spider filled her mind.

"I sssee sssomething Ssss red. It movesss. Never ssseen ssssomething like thissss before."

She knew from the vague description exactly what it was, but to be sure she peaked into the little spider's consciousness, into it's soul. It felt warm, and happy to have her attention like this, but mostly hungry, which made Gwathel giggle. No matter how small or large, spiders only ever thought about food. She pushed it's thoughts aside, and focused on it's many eyes until she could see everything it saw.

There right in front of it, was quite the ward.

She released the little beast, and sprang up, dashing around the the back of the building. Hurriedly she ordered her brood to a safe distance, then bent down and scooped up a rock. With a snap of her fingers the tiny chunk of stone burst into flames, and she cocked her arm back. This wasn't the best plan, and she was aware of it, but she didn't know how else to set the MCU's ward off without harming herself, or her kind.

The ward was one a third story window, or what was left of a blown out window. Not that difficult of a shot even for a human, but incredibly easy for Gwathel.

She hurled the stone with amazing force, and it collided with the ward dead center, setting off a massive fiery explosion. She smiled up at it, pleased with her work. Hopefully it would count as a potentially attack on the structure, and alert the owners. If not maybe it would at least cause enough of a ruckus for someone to be dispatched to check. At worst it'd be loud enough to wake anyone inside the hovel up.

No matter which way it played out, it was her best shot at speaking to someone of the ever-shadowy MCU, and maybe getting some answers.