Ezra Bennet's Story

Ah hell, now there were two people. Brandon shrugged and considered it. His hand dropped away from the other and he smiled. "I did tell someone. I told Kurt I had planned to drop by Hanh Dam's to borrow his grimoire. I didn't think Dam had anything to do with everything that happened, and didn't consider him a threat." The necromancer shook his head. "I should have known better. I was shit luck in dating."

Brandon offered the other a smile. "Don't worry about me though. Had Laura not been there, I would have used a spell I know that would have gotten me out in a heartbeat. But it's not one I can use around non-necromancer's unless I want them near death's door." and he didn't want that for Laura.

Ezra had resisted the urge to facepalm so long, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “This is not exactly what I’d call calming”, he muttered under his breath, looking at the necromancer through his fingers. “I’d advise you to additionally let your aunt know next time. Or even me, if you feel comfortable with it.”
He thought about the dating comment for a moment. “I sincerely hope that you didn’t have any worse relationships than your last one.” Carving runes into your lover’s neck had to be on top of the list of terrible dates.

Brandon considered this. "Well. He's the worst romantic partner I've ever had, that's to be sure." He considered his history and then shrugged. "And my aunt was at the hospital. What would calling her do? Besides, I don't have you number Warden." He pointed out, then considered things, and tapped his chin. "I know just the solution." He murmured and sent the other a flirtatious look.

"Clearly we should head out for coffee some time soon, so we can get more comfortable with each other." He offered and scribbled down his number on a scrap of paper in his pocket. "Here." He offered. "Text me you're number, Warden Bennet, and we can arrange coffee sometime."

On one hand, Ezra was pretty sure the necromancer had just attempted to flirt with him, on the other, he couldn’t really trust his own judgement at the moment. Thoughts were still jumping around in no particular sensible order, so that observation should be better dealt with some other time.
However, on a purely logical level, of course, they would be working together frequently in the future, so getting acquainted made perfect sense. “That seems reasonable”, he agreed, getting out the phone from his pocket. The scrap of paper would be too easily lost, and, while he was at it, he sent him his number. “And Ezra will do just fine, Mr. Hammerstine.” He finally managed to make eye contact again.

"Please, call me Brandon." He insisted, rather pleased. That went pretty well. It was hard to judge Ezra's reaction, but at least he had accepted the number. That was a step forward! And it was one he rather liked. Brandon took out his phone and added Ezra's number to his phone book as soon as he received the message. The background of his phone contained a painted portrait of a little girl in a dress and he smiled slightly at the sight. Bethy hated having her photo taken, but loved it when people painted her. Not that she said still for a painted portrait, but she still liked it.

He couldn't help but show the other. "My little sister." He explained. The blond hair smiling little girl looked dressed for a fancy dress party with her hair done up and her dress with a sheer overskirt to it. "Not that Aunt acknowledges her, so don't bring her up. She's from a family that took me in before my aunt found me, when I was on the streets are my parents deaths." He smiled. To all appearances the little girl was 6 years old. At 34, he could have been her father many times over, but instead, she was just a beloved little sister. He'd have to drop by sometime soon, so she could exclaim over how old he looked now, and to give her a new doll to play with.

“Thank you, I will.” It usually took him longer to figure out when to offer first name basis, he was glad it had worked out. Surprised at the sudden flood of information, Ezra focused on the painting. The girl looked young, she must have been born long after Brandon’s adoption. But perhaps it was just an older picture.
He knew little about art, but he could tell it was well done from how lively the expression felt. Although he did find it a little odd that he hadn’t chosen a photograph instead. “I am sorry to hear about your parents.” Ezra glanced towards the necromancer, relieved to find him smiling. “She looks like she enjoyed having her portrait done. Did you make it?” He was relatively certain he remembered reading about Brandon’s shop selling art supplies.

Brandon's cheeks turned bright red at this. "Yeah." He whispered and closed his eyes. "She's a good kid." He admitted. "I visit when I can. It's just her and the caretakers now. The adoptive parents died shortly after my aunt found me." He shrugged. "But she had two caretakers who love her very much. I help with her upkeep when I can, but that's the best I can do." Aunt Catherine hadn't been told she was still alive, and he wasn't going to tell her. As far as he knew, he was just particularly proud of the portrait he had painted. To the best of his knowledge, she had never see Bethany.

"I think the majority of her wardrobe is princess dresses. She's spoiled rotten." He was the cause of most of it, and he knew it. The necromancer smiled though. "She's practically the most innocent thing out there. It's refreshing sometimes, especially after a tough job. I'll probably go see her, once I'm healed up a bit."

He hadn’t expected the other man to blush at the question, and wondered if he was private about his art. "You have a fine eye for detail, it looks very life-like", he added with a smile.
“And it sounds like you two are close.” Despite the age gap. Ezra couldn’t help but feel kind of envious of their relationship - he had never had siblings, just a handful of cousins that neither got along with each other nor him. It had been lonely sometimes but on the other hand, his parents always tried their best. Who knew, maybe his potential sibling and him would have just ended up constantly fighting. He shrugged off the thought.
The comment about the girl made him chuckle, he had no trouble picturing Brandon being the one to buy those dresses for her. “I’m sure you had no part in spoiling her.” The necromancer’s excitement was infectious. Or maybe it was the caffeine finally kicking in. It was hard to tell.

Brandon laughed. "Well, someone has to. If I could take her in I would, but, well, there's a lot reasons I can't." For one, very few people knew that Bethany Lessard was alive today. For another, Brandon knew better than to make obvious any connection he had to the Lessard family. That would destroy an awful lot if he did. "But I made certain her caretakers would, and she knows I'm her big brother." That was the important part. The necromancer smiled slightly.

"Thank you. I...I don't show off my painting very often. The only thing I really accept commissions for is my pottery and my clay sculptures." His painting on the other hand, was very private. "You'll have to drop by the shop sometime to check it out. I'm sure Laura would love to see one of her saviors anyway."

Not only a doting brother but also generally artistically inclined - unless Brandon’s artwork was made from victims, Ezra was struggling to understand why the department was so hostile towards him. It seemed a tad harsh just because of the necromancy. Did the magic one practices really define one as a person?
Again he had to stop himself from flinching, aware he hadn’t done much to help. “I might take you up on that offer sooner than you think - I've been meaning to talk to her.” Partially to check up on her, mainly because he was curious what the girl that attracted so much trouble was like. He looked Brandon over, reconsidering what he had just said. “Well, maybe not too soon, the two of you will have to recuperate. Speaking of which, I should let you head home. I'd hate to have the reputation of harassing the exhausted and wounded, we should try not to make a habit out of this and next time meet when you are neither of these things”, he suggested wryly.

It was less his magic - though that certainly didn't help, given how necromancy was viewed - and more his past. That however was sealed up in records and wasn't something anybody was going to get from him. The necromancer offered the other a smile. "Come by anytime. She's there Wednesday, Thursday and Fridays after school, and Saturdays in the morning." And he was firm on those being the only shifts she worked. The girl didn't even work full shifts, but he didn't mind. Her being there meant he could go over accounts during business hours.

"I'm there all the time of course, but I live above the shop." Brandon shrugged and then smiled to him again. "You're right though. I need to get home. The shop was a bit of a mess when I last saw it and there's no way it's gotten any better in the meantime." He didn't even want to think about how much repairing the window that was broken would cost, much less about any supplies he may have lost to the attackers.

The phrase overworked, understaffed, and underpaid had never been truer. While they had all hoped to catch a break after this most recent case, that wasn't going to happen. Getting back to her office over an hour after she'd left the Seychelle's house, Catherine collapsed into her chair behind her desk. "Someone owes me for that... snafu." She muttered hoping to be left alone until it was time to go home.

A knock on the door to her office quickly put an end to her thoughts of dozing off for the rest of the shift. "Yes?" She answered rather grumpily. "Uh.. excuse me Warden, but this fax came in from DPD..." The young man at the door began as they entered the office, really unsure of how exactly to talk to the female warden. "And?" Catherine said testily, hoping to soon be rid of the officer who had obviously drawn the short straw. "Well... we felt that you might want to take a look at it." He said hastily shoving at her across the desk.

Skimming through the contents, she frowned. "Is this all?" She asked before turning to the computer on her desk. "Yes, it came in earlier while you were out on a case. Your secretary said to come back later." Ishae seemed to take great delight in causing minor chaos among the lower ranking officers at this particular office.

"Alright.. thank you." Catherine said as she skimmed back through the pages of the fax. They could have just emailed it, but apparently felt that this was somehow better. "Bloody police departments..." She grumbled as she started to send out the request for the second staff wide meeting that month. This time at least the contractors wouldn't have to get involved unless absolutely necessary.

Molly was the first one in the room -- other than Catherine of course -- and she took her seat rather curious as to what could have happened so soon. She took one glance at Catherine and kept her mental shields up and her mouth shut tight. Long acquaintance told her that the other had had a very bad day.

Not that the tall woman could blame her. The last big case that had required a staff meeting had just finished, and now they were in another. It wasn’t a good thing, and the junior officer understood the other’s anger. Calmly, she took out a notepad and pencil and schooled herself to take notes. Anything that put that expression on Catherine’s face she did not want to deal with.

Hesitatingly, she offered. “Should I get the coffee pot, Warden?” she offered the other. It may help after all, if they other had some coffee. The black tar that the precinct favored was sure to wake you up, at least. It might help with the tenseness in the other's frame.

Rafael entered the room with the 4 inch Kimber holstered on his right hip and two extra mags tucked onto the belt. His left hand rested on the hilt of a medieval knights bastard sword which was firmly secured to him via the sword belt. The sword appeared out of place on him otherwise with jeans, polo shirt and boots.

"Looks like I am almost early. I see no one else brought their swords along for the castle sieges. It would seem I am the only one to have the forethought to. I also have my armor tucked away in the car." Rafael said in a slightly sarcastic tone as he entered the room rather oblivious to the Wardens mood.

Ezra was contemplating the choices that had lead to this caffeine buzz. It might have been the ridiculous amount of green tea he had drunk - the strong stuff, he thought wryly. However he had settled in nicely in his new apartment, even if there were still boxes waiting in the hallway to be unpacked and shelving needed to host the abundance of books and files he ran out of room for.

The atmosphere in the room was tense already, and he had the good sense to take his seat quietly. Maybe with a good safe distance away from Paladin Fisher, just in case Warden Dumitrescu decided not to humour him. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to Miss Bronson, along with a small smile, ready to find out what this was about.

Alexander didn't take long to go strait threw the Aegis portal near the exit of the council and right out threw the full sized body mirror in the long forgotten corner of Catherine's office right next to the fire place. He coughed a little bit because he got a big old cloud of dust right in the face as he stepped through. "By Athena's owl and shield don't you ever dust that thing woman?" He asked as he brushed him self off. Looking up at the gathering of agents he blinked in a staggering nature. "and of course I walk right into a field agent meeting. If this isn't just the text book definition of awkward." Alexander was dressed in his usual fair. Blue jeans, a sport jacket, over a polo shirt, dress shoes had long ago given way to comfortable pair of cross fit boots. He was as per usual caring a .38 snub nosed revolver holstered on both ankles A .45 ACP 1943 variant in a holster under both his right and left arms each having two spare magazines on the side of the holsters. Then finally on his left hip a Roman Gladus on his right hip a Viking Francesca a gift from Fryga to symbolize their firmly seated friendship.

Catherine had given Molly assent to go and start a new pot of coffee while she organized her notes. The day that had started out long, just grew longer by the minute as she struggled to figure out how to address their new issue at hand. The police report had been spotty at best, and seemed to lack really any evidence to support their desire in bringing MCU on board; but she had been wrong before.

Glancing up at Rafael, she scowled at the sword firmly attached to his waist. "Are we compensating for something Fisher?" She asked him in an bitter tone, pointing to the sword at his waist. "Last I checked this wasn't 1095 or the crusades." Why did this man insist on strange things such as Russian Roulette and now a sword? Then again, Catherine had to remind herself that none of them would pass a normal department's psych eval. Turning her attention over towards Ezra, she noted that he seemed to have survived last week's adventure with little damage. "I see you survived our adventure Warden Bennet."

"Now that we're all here," Catherine began as she picked up her notes in one hand, and took the remote to the room's projector in the other. "This afternoon I was handed a fax that came in from our friends at the police department. They seem to have had a rash of kidnappings, and murders. While this is fairly normal for the Dallas and Fort Worth metro area, the most unusual thing is it's children." She had been about to switch to the next slide in the projector when she noticed the strange looks on the rest of the faces in the room. "Oh come on, it's not like this isn't normal." Catherine said trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

Molly got back with the pot just in time. With a sighed she poured Catherine a cup, made it to the other's usual specification and set it on the woman's desk, and poured herself one, then set it down, and smiling at the others in the room. The smile dropped as she heard the news. Child murders. That was certainly not normal, in the Mundane or in the Unseen realms.

And then she saw the Councilor. "Councilor Summers." She greeted politely. "Would you like some coffee too? We have enough for everyone." And she knew where Catherine kept her clean cups. It was all too easy to fall into odd habits when around Catherine. Still, she hadn't expected the other there. Ishae had mentioned to make it an extra large pot though, so the other likely had an inkling.

"Well first off ma'am this sword resembles nothing of the barbaric religious zeal of the Crusades. This exact model I have here is from some time in the 14th century. This is a knightly blade made for the slaying of those who wish to do evil. I also have the matching armor set in the back of my car. Paycheck well spent if you ask me." Rafael was speaking with rather fervent zeal. Before turning to Alexander. The sword was also out of the sheath with Rafael admiring the blade.

"I also see the newcomer has come prepared for battle." Rafael looked over as Alexander made his entrance which did not seem to phase him.

"So I take it that we have to slay another Krumpus? Maybe someone summoned a Greater Demon this time. I can't wait to give it a taste of holy steel. I forgot to mention that I was able to get the local Bishop to bless the blade with Holy Water." Rafael looked please with himself as he went back to listening.

Of course the sight of dead children would be a common thing, why had he ever thought otherwise? But Ezra hadn’t been aware how much his face must have escalated at the sight of Councilmember Summers arriving and quickly did his best to get his expression under control. Miss Bronson took over before he could mention the arrival to the other warden. “Good day, Councilor. What brings you here?”, he asked, trying to sound polite and not too curious about the unscheduled visit.
Not an everyday occurrence. And yet somehow still less strange than Paladin Fisher’s antics.
He just hoped that convincing the local bishop had not involved direct use of that blade.