Saw – Madame Rose Li’s Club : GS.

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Madame Rose Li’s Club – “Saw”

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was now well after 5pm and Tommy had already dealt with his reporting duties at the hospital under the instruction of his editor back at the New York Times. With his article sent in to the head office, he now wanted to stop off at the one place that he knew he would get answers about the package and its contents, that Frank was going to be using against the Commander. Frank had not called Tommy as yet or left a text. Both of these facts had the reporter worried, but he knew that Frank was on a mission and that really Tommy had no place to interfere. Especially after he had been warned off by his editor. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t go and confront Rose about her involvement. There was something about those photographs. Pure coincidence, or was there a motive behind it. Tommy didn’t trust the woman. Especially after he behavior when his brother died. It disgusted him. Sadly, his brother loved the woman. Not that it got him anywhere.

Pulling up outside the club, Tommy got out of his car and shut the door before locking it. The streets were pretty much devoid of life at this time of day. The club was not even open yet, not to punters. But he was already spotted by one of Rose’s guards, and gestured to come towards the entrance. Could it be that she was expecting him? Not showing any hint of emotion, Tommy walked around the car and strolled up to the front door. A large dark skinned man with shades and a black suit was watching and then gave Tommy a nod, as he opened the door for him to enter.

Just like that.

Walking through the club, it was deserted. No patrons were inside as yet, just staff going about their duties. Restocking the bar, preparing the tables. All looked up as Tommy entered. He was so much like his brother, that one would easily think that the dead had come back to life. Only it was the gentle laughter of a woman down the back, with some young lad that she was teasing, that would have Tommy focus on the darkened corner. Of course she would have a toy boy on a chain. It was her style. The moment that she spotted Tommy however, Rose put her hand up to the young man’s face and then dismissed him as easily as you would a bus boy. The real deal was here.

Dressed in a red cocktail dress with a sparkling diamond necklace, Rose got out of her chair and swanned over to where Tommy was standing. She looked like the cat that had just swallowed the canary. A glint in her eyes of mischief, that Tommy was not at all happy to see.

 

“You came.”

“Not for what you are thinking, Rose.”

The reporter stared her down, while she became coy in her presence. “Oh you would blush if you knew what I was thinking.” The woman was known for having an insatiable appetite for men. She reached up and caressed Tommy’s cheek, causing him to harden his jaw. If anything, it just turned the woman on even more so. A challenge if ever she saw one. “Are you hungry? I was about to enjoy a rather tasty new dish.” The innuendos were coming thick and fast now. Was she speaking about her toy boy, or a meal cooked by her chef? Tommy already had plans to cook dinner for Elissa and simply shook his head.

“I’m saving myself.”

“Really? Who is she?” The woman had a radar that could track a rival quickly, and by the way Tommy was acting, he was off her menu.

“None of your business. Let’s cut to the chase. Why did you give me the pictures of the Commander and….that..”

This was not what Rose was expecting and she suddenly looked disappointed. “Because, I was trying to help your friend. Remember, Detective Frank Malone?’ Naturally, Tommy knew what she meant, but was that the real reason. The whole thing stunk to high heaven. At this point she grinned, and made a cat like pawing at Tommy’s jacket – at which he seized her wrist and tightened his grip. “You don’t help anyone, but yourself. Like you are trying to do now.” There was a menace in his voice, and Rose was loving every minute of it. She didn’t even try to wrestle free, but pushed herself up against him.

“I know what I want, Tommy. And I think you know it too.” Her eyes searched his for some showing of feelings for her….good or bad. Tommy released his grip and pushed her back at the same time, causing her to lose her balance and grip the nearest chair. Her hair whipping around her, but if she was upset, it wasn’t showing. She grinned menacingly, as she heard the Chef bring out the dinner plates. It was a roast meal. Roasted goat with vegetables and all the trimmings.

“The things I have done for you. Why…even now, I’ve tried to make your friend’s problems….go away.”

Tommy’s eyes hardened from what he had just heard. “What do you mean, Rose?”

Rose raised herself up to standing proudly, before tearing a piece of goat meat one of the plates on her table and licking it.

“You’re the reporter, go find the story.”

Tommy knew right away, that Frank was probably in trouble. The reporter slammed his fist down on the table causing the cutlery and plates to fly off and clatter to the ground. Staying here was wasting time, and he knew that Rose was just toying with him now. He spun on his heels and took off out of the club, leaving Rose standing there knowing that he would be back….and she’d be waiting.

 

~RB~

Goodbye Frank : GS.

 

Two wrongs don’t make a right.  The last hours of Detective Frank Malone.

Co-written with Nhal.
Razorbackwriter: Heading out to the street outside Elissa’s apartment, the two men would be saying good bye to each other. Little did they know the importance of what this would mean. Frank now had the goods on the Commander, thanks to Tommy’s connection in the darker underworld of New York. Reaching the curb, Frank puts his hand out to flag down a taxi, as Tommy is about to head to his car.

“You sure you want to use them?” The reporter asks, almost second guessing himself. The evidence in the brown envelope is damaging. So serious in fact that the Commander would never get a job in the city again, not even street sweeping. Frank gave a mere shrug of his shoulders. Everything the Detective had tried to do to clear his name and his own reputation had been hindered by the Commander at each and every turn. With the most recent death of Joey Patone, Frank was now a scapegoat more than ever for who was truly responsible for the mobster’s murder. The Commander had in his possession the photographs that had been taken from Joey’s apartment and featured images of the creature that had taken Rory that fateful night. Those alone could prove that Frank was not in the slightest bit crazy, and backed up the claims that he had made. It would vindicate him not only to those that he served with, but also to his ex wife. Isolde would also be in the clear, since her lab reports on the firing of Frank;s gun would show that he did not shoot Eliissa, or Joey Patone.

One career for another.

“This has to end, Tommy. My life has been a right mess since the night Rory died. I’ve had enough of people holding that over me. You saw the fluffy alien princess upstairs. They exist. That means this creature that attacked Rory also does. The Commander knows it and is trying to keep it under wraps. God knows why. If I have to blackmail the bastard with these pictures to get what’s left of my life back…then so be it.”

Frank had no remorse for the Commander. He was the most corrupt official in New York. This was an easy out for him. All he had to do was hand over the pictures from Joey’s apartment and let sleeping dogs lie.

The reporter let out a sigh as a cab pulled up alongside them.

“This is my ride. I’ll call you. See ya, Tommy.”

Frank smacked the side of Tommy’s arm and then got into the cab. He settled into the back seat as the detective gave him an address that he knew was a place few ventured. Dock nine, Warehouse 32. The cab sped off into the traffic, leaving Tommy standing there on the sidewalk. There was little he could do, but wait for Frank to call him that night, and let him know how it went down.

In the cab, Frank started to text the Commander’s phone.

~Commander, it’s Frank. You and I need to talk. Meet me at Dock nine, Warehouse 32 at 4pm today. Bring the evidence box from Joey’s apartment, and I’ll let you have the goat pictures and footage.~

Frank pressed send, then stared straight ahead as his fingers strummed the outside of the parcel that contained the photographs.

In the Commander’s office, the Commander was dictating a letter to his secretary, when his cell phone started to vibrate. Thinking it could be his new wife, he picked it up – only to turn pale when he read what was on the display. ~Goat pictures?~ The Commander nearly started to choke, and it was bad enough to have his secretary run around behind him to pat his back. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Of course, the Commander was far from okay, and started to scream at the girl to get out of his office. This had to be a set up. Frank didn’t have it in him to try and blackmail anyone. Or did he? The Commander couldn’t take any chances and quickly lept up, grabbing his coat. The evidence box from Joey’s apartment was still on his desk, and in a terrible rush, the Commander left his office to go and meet up with the Detective. His career and everything he had ever worked for was now on the line.

In a darkened room across town, an agent had his hand up to the left side of his head phones.

“Ma’am….the Commander is on the move. He’s going to go meet Malone at the docks. Should we respond?”

The red hue of a cigarette burning was coming from the corner of the room and a feminine voice responded. “I think its time to bring the curtain down on the Commander. He just reached his use by date.”

Pushing herself up out from her chair, she snapped her fingers at her assistant – a dark skinned man wearing a black suit. He slipped on a pair of dark glasses and fell in behind the woman in red. It was zero hour.

4.00pm

Pulling open the warehouse door, a faint light could be seen inside the empty space within the warehouse. Stepping in with his gun drawn, Frank looked about for signs of life. There was nothing but the faint drip of what he thought was water. Had the Commander even shown up? Going in a bit further, he could just make out the outline of what looked to be the Commander seated at a table in the middle of the building. He was just…staring into space. Frank re holstered his firearm and then headed closer towards the Commander.

“It’s a shame it had to come to this…..”

The Commander didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He had a bullet hole in his forehead – his nose drenced in blood and the slow dripping of crimson onto the table in front of him.

The Commander was dead.

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Nhal: “A shame? No, I don’t really think it is. If anything I think it’s just one of many inevitible truths.” Bols stepped out of seemingly nowhere, almost as if he was spawned from the shadows themselves. He slowly paced his way through the open space, his shoes clicking against the ground loudly as he walked up behind the Detective. He crossed his arms and shook his head slightly as he paced up next to him. “And you know, I really am sorry, but there is one more truth im going to have to show you… A truth I dont think your going to enjoy.” Stepping around the body, Bols tucked his hand into his jacket and removed a small vial of dark blue liquid which he held up in front of his face, peering through the glass with one eye.

“Nobody enjoys the beginning, but the end?… Oh man that part is a whole lot worse…” With a gentle toss into the air he flipped the vial around in the air and caught it in his other hand, dropping it into his sleeve and then dropping his arms to his sides with a soft shrug. “So what will it be Detective? Are you going to take an offer of peace and prosperity? Or will you be put through a hell of running in circles for the rest of your life? You have five seconds to decide.”

Raising his hands out to his sides he gave a soft smirk towards the young detective. His own mischievous grin upon his face causeing him to look far less serious than his voice led him to believe. “Choose, now… Five…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: Who was this strange man that appeared right as Frank was saying what he thought was a sad kind of greeting to the very dead Commander. It stopped the detective in his tracks and the package that had been kept tightly under his arm slipped and fell to the ground – scattering across the dirty warehouse floor. The sounds of his shoes, as he passed around the body of the Commander and his almost sarcastic tone was enough to make the Detective wonder if it was the man that had done the killing. Normally, an assassin doesn’t dance around his victim and taunt a police detective in the process.

“Who are you?” Obvious question is obvious. Not that the man would divulge such a thing. He was too busy speaking in riddles. He kept speaking about inevitable truths, something that had been lacking in Frank’s world up till now. The Detective was about to reach for his gun, when the man produced a blue vial and tossed it into the air, catching it with his other hand. It didn’t take all of Frank’s detective skills to work out that the vial spelt trouble. But why did he flaunt this, instead of a gun? Surely if he had killed the Commander, he would turn a gun on him. None of this was making any sense.

“I don’t understand what you are talking about? Did you kill the Commander?”

The man was set on a deal of sorts. One that the Detective only had two choices from and under five seconds to make it. HIs eyes showed conflict and confusion. Was his life on the line? He had spent years running in circles. Everything that had led up to this point was all smoke and mirrors. The truth….was on the table…on the floor. Now the Commander was dead, would he ever be free?

“Five…”

“Wait…I don’t understand..”

In a mad panic…Frank blurted the first thing that came natural. “I just want it to end!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: Bols stopped with a small shake of his head yet again. “What a dull choice… But I guess you wont have an issue with my own, seeing as you wont remember it.” Raiseing one hand in Frank’s direction he held two fingers and a thumb open towards him, as if displaying a card to the man across from him. “Im going to have to ask you to sit like a good boy.” Snapping his wrist downwards his fingers now pointing towards the floor, the weight in Frank’s body suddenly began to grow exponentially as if he was burdened by heavy stones or steel.

“You see, there has been a unanimous descision to take you and your boss here, and replace you with more… Cooperative buisness partners…” Turning his hand slightly, the weight of Frank’s being continued to grow faster and faster until he could no longer support himself. “Although if it makes you feel any better, its all for a good cause… Trust me.” Bols let off a light smirk before he flicked his opposeing wrist, summoning the vial of liquid to his hand again.

“Hey Volkov, hold onto his head for me will you? we dont need him squirming around or else I might knick something important…” As he finished speaking, a very bulky looking man in a white suite made his way into the warehouse from outside, getting close to Frank he simply gave Bols a grunt and a nod, placing his large hands on either sides of the detective’s head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: How was it that this man was able to wield the power over Frank, to have his entire body become heavy as lead. Frank had no choice, he had lost the ability to move freely. Hands and feet swelling and he was finding a rising pain in his chest as he struggled to breath. Frank tried to speak, to voice a protest – but it all came out like a pathetic sounding grunt. His eyes now bulging as though his head was caught in a vice. He wanted to reach out towards this man, who was acting like a showman more than anything. But he simply couldn’t. A look of horror now on his face, as the unknown man said that there had been a unanimous decision for both the Commander and the detective to be replaced. Frank knew that the Commander was on the mobs books, but he never had the chance to prove it. Did this man think the same thing of Frank? Did he even care?

Not by the way he was speaking. Again with a sinister smirk and the showing of the blue vial, the same one that he had spun around on their first meeting.

“Although if it makes you feel any better, its all for a good cause… Trust me.”

How could he trust a man that had his sights set on killing him? Every part of his life was now spinning before his eyes. This was the end. it was not how he envisioned it. He never got the chance to say goodbye to the one person he loved. His son.

A single tear ran down his face, as a large man in white appeared from the shadows and took hold of his head. The only saving grace for Frank now, was that his death would be swift. He closed his eyes….and inwardly prayed to his Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: Flicking his opposing wrist, Bols brought a large syringe from his sleeve, stabbing the tip through the vial in his other hand and began to draw the blue liquid before he dropped the empty vial onto the ground. “Do enjoy your time here, because as short as it will be, it sure as hell wont feel like it.” Casually stepping over the corpse in front of him, Bols swiftly swung his arm and stabbed the needle into Franks neck, injecting the fluid within directly into his blood stream before tossing the apparatus aside. “Now then, the drug will start taking effect in about three minutes, so until then, we get to have a little fun… Volkov, make sure he doesn’t move an inch…”

The enormous man simply gave another grunt and a nod as Bols paced away from Frank’s position, approximately 20 feet in distance. Spinning on his heel he stopped and when he faced his target. “And so, we begin.” Slipping his hands into his opposing sleeves he pulled out two small knives, twisting his arms and his wrists forwards he loosed the blades, sending them spiraling towards Frank and burying them deep into the soft flesh at the joints of his shoulders. “Hit, Fourty points.” His head cocked to the side slightly. “But im sure I can do so very much better…”

Tucking his hands back behind his back he slid them under his vest before bringing them back in front of him and fanning a series of various sized and shaped blades. Tossing his ensemble into the air he began to juggle them in his hands before he suddenly hopped back and lifted his left leg, rapidly kicking at each individual blade and sending them flying towards the target. A blade in the arm, leg, shoulder, stomach, another leg and a shoulder, a hand, a deep graze against the neck, then both the final blades burying themselves in his waist. “Alright, thats much better… Ill call that Three-hundred Fifty points.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: This man was like some crazed circus performer with his insane wit and then the actions that were to bring horror and misery to his target of choice – the ill fated detective. It’s one thing to know that you are going to die. It’s another to be tortured beforehand. Without the ability to really scream as his body was now like a massive led weight, his jaw just fell open and the hollowed sound of his rasping breathe would bring a chill to anyone that felt a shred of humanity. The man with the knives clearly didn’t. He was enjoying this so much he was even shouting the scores as his blades made their mark on multiple parts of Frank’s body. A single bullet could have just ended it all, but this was dragging on and on. Blood spurting out of the wounds where the many blades were now buried. The man that held onto Frank’s head would surely have his pristine white suit splattered, but neither man seemed to care.

The drug that had been administered early on, was now starting to slowly take affect. Not that it really mattered. Frank’s mind had now completely snapped and reality was a nightmare that he could not be released from till a blade would puncture either his lungs or his heart. The man was clever enough to avoid striking major organs and arteries to prolong the suffering of the Detective. To fall prey to a sadist was the worst thing imaginable.

Pools of Frank’s blood was now forming on the floor under him and running towards the nearest drain hole. A gurgled sound came from Frank as he started to slip from consciousness due to the severe blood loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: “Come on Franky, stay awake… We just have a little longer to play, then we can wrap up here. Volkov, you can let him go… With all the nerves and tendons that Ive severed, theres no way he’s going to be moving anywhere…” The larger man gave his signature nod and grunt, releasing frank and stepping off to the side. Bols’ expression suddenly went serious, his arms moving out to his sides in a T. “Well Frankie, its been fun… But, my associates think its time we end this little dance… And besides, I have some important guests showing up soon, it would be a shame if I missed them…”

Turning his wrist sharply a thin fibre wire began to fly through the air, spiraling around Frank. “I think the term ‘Death by a thousand cuts’ is quite applicable here.” Giving his wrist another flick, a series of blades of varying sizes, styles and lengths began pouring out of his sleeve as if someone had knocked over a box at an old blacksmiths shop. they all stuck to the thread as more and more began to spew forth, surrounding the detective in a near solid wall of iron and steel.

“And this shall be the end… Any last words detective boy?…” Moving his arm to his front, Bols closed his hand, pointing a finger towards Frank as the dozens of different blades all faced in his direction, poised for the killing blow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: Time had slowed right down, with everything in front of Frank to be nothing but a horrible blur of sound and sight. Though Bol had drugged the detective so that he would never remember this death, as he lived it – Frank was going through a torturous end. Mercy it seemed was not in Bol’s vocabulary, and so as the blood wept from each and ever blade strike, the detective looked nothing more than a sad mannequin that had taken it’s final bow. It was no longer about pain, it was more about regret. Missed chances, lost days, a pathetic existence. There seemed to be no justice or truth except to say that Frank’s death would end up being as much a mystery as Rory’s had been. And all for what? Would anyone care?

As more cuts were inflicted, the warehouse gave way to another setting entirely. Frank found himself on a jetty facing a boat that was boarding with many other people that had either been murdered or taken away….like Rory. In fact, it was Rory who was waiting for Frank. Still wearing the same suit as he had on the night of his murder, blood stains down his shirt, and gouges in his neck that appeared fresh, Rory extended his hand towards Frank to follow him. The detective looked down at himself, no longer bleeding profusely, but appearing as he had when he first entered the warehouse. His hands trembled as he reached for his friend. United in death?

“Come on, Frank.” Rory urged. The boat was ready to depart. All the others were now on board and staring at the setting sun. They would follow the sun till it reached the end of the earth and then be taken onto their new lives. “I’ve been waiting for you, mate” Rory was smiling now as Frank started to take those last steps…..

“And this shall be the end… Any last words detective boy?…”

The voice was coming from behind him. It was the monster that was delivering the final blow. Frank turned his head slowly in this dreamscape. Rory was now shouting at Frank. “Don’t listen to him…..Stay with me. Join me.” There was a desperation in his voice as though he knew what staying behind meant. A large horn blast from the boat meant it was leaving and Rory jumped on the loading ramp. “Frank!”

“Rory….”

It was to be his last word, as the blades all surrounded him…and delivered the crushing blow. Blood spewing from every point of entry. Frank was dead.

The boat sailed off….without him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RIP Frank.

The Maze of Greed – Part Four : SS.

Hate and revenge can lead you down a very dark path.  This is what Scar and Mariela are about to find out.  What if they are not the only ones that are lost in the Maze of Greed?

Scene setting : Maze of Greed – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Dessy and Artie.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “I was speaking all la de da. You know, fancy talk. I didn’t mean that you were mywitch…I…I…oh forget it.” Trying to explain his faux pas was just making him seem a bit silly. He didn’t mean to upset her, but by her body language the damage was done. When a woman folds her arms and gives you the look, its best to settle your bets and pay your dues. Even if you meant no harm by it. The alp much rather find a way to help the witch get far as he could from Lydia’s clutches, but now that they were in the maze, it was going to be easier said than done. Course, she interrupted his chain of thought when she mentioned that Lydia was far more evil than she first thought. Lydia had gone out of her way to earn the young witch’s trust. Becoming a woman who was nothing more than a fraud. Oh she seemed lovely, alright, but the clues were there. Like when she killed Warner, and used his blood as a sacrifice for the Devil. Did the Devil himself not say that she was an ambitious little bitch? This was of course all well before Scar arrived on the scene. And he was summoned from the book of shadows. Lydia’s grand plans for him were to keep Mariela out of harms way as she plotted the ball, and then what was to happen afterwards, when everything fell into place. Again, Scar knew that Mariela was the key to Gabriel’s curse or the removal of it. But Scar had taken Mariela into the maze first and well before Lydia was ready. That was why she appeared in the hand mirror held by the raven man.

“You…remember the hand mirror, don’t you?” Scar started, his face now perfectly serious. There was no joy or mischief in his voice. “There….is another one. Here….somewhere in the labyrinth. A bigger mirror…a looking glass.” It appeared the Alp knew a whole lot more about Lydia’s schemes than first imagined. “It’s not hers. It belongs to a Warlock. I think his name was…Raul, or something. Anyways, it is enchanted just like the one I broke.”

Scar fidgeted with his hat nervously as he bowed his head. “My understanding is that the Lydia in the mirror is in another dimension. It was why I thought….that it was safer out here, than in that hall.” Was the Alp starting to regret bringing the witch out into the maze? “As for….the price of using my hat as a way to escape, the price could be a greater one than you are prepared to pay. As I said before, magic always comes at a price.”

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela stared at him, raising an eyebrow as the alp tried to explain himself… but miserably failed. “‘Fancy talk?’ That’s what it is?” she said, before she just ended up grinning when he told her to forget it. She didn’t know what had happened for Scar to start calling her “my witch” when she wasn’t his property. But if he was trying to earn brownie points, it wasn’t working. Not right now. Mariela was still a little unhappy that Scar never gave her an explanation. She also didn’t like whatever was going on in the maze. She was a little angry about that.

Mariela nodded her head when the hand mirror was mentioned. Her face turned into a frown when Scar grew serious. Most of the time he was always happy and playful, so seeing him so serious was weird. “What does the mirror have to do with anything?” she asked, putting her arms by her side. “And why did a warlock give it to her?” she then asked afterwards. She was so full of questions, and so curious.

Mariela watched him fidget with his hat, her green eyes watching him as he talked. “So, there are two Lydia’s? Why and how? And what does this “other Lydia”,” she made air quotes with her fingers. “…want to do with me?” she then pointed to herself. She listened to him again, and she thought that Scar was regretting taking her out to the maze. That’s what it sounded like, at least. “What do you mean “a greater one than I won’t be prepared to pay”? Scar, I have no idea what you are talking about…” she sighed, and gave a roll of her eyes. “I know magic always comes with a price! Everything comes with a price!” she said, annoyed, and moving her arms around the air dramatically.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Scar grimaced as Mariela’s anger started to get the better of her. Here she was, stuck in a horrid maze with the Alp, when she could be back in the ball room. Though little did they realize just what had gone down within those walls. Scar certainly didn’t know….not yet. All he knew was that when he took Mariela from the ball room, he genuinely feared for her life. Some of Hell’s most powerful beings were in that room, and with murder taking place, unruly fights…well, Scar figured some of them might succumb to the blood lust and attack a pretty thing like Mariela. She totally took his words the wrong way, and he felt like she was scolding him for it. It really was just an honest mistake, and yet he could feel the rise of her anger. She was becoming more and more animated. Flailing her arms about her wildly. His answers had only made her want to ask more questions. For example, what did the mirror have to do with anything? Why would a Warlock give it to her?

The alp was starting to feel drained. He had no idea that Mariela would be so damn curious about…well everything. His job was to keep her in the dark. That was what Lydia had set for him. But after the wonderful times he spent with the witch, he had lost sight of what was required.

“Why would a Warlock do a deal with the Demon of Ambition….and Greed? Why do you think?” Now he had an exasperated tone. Scar had only overheard the pair plotting, but not actually met the Warlock properly. “He obviously thought there was something to be gained. I don’t know….maybe…maybe…” the Alp stuttered. Racking his brain of possible conclusions. “There must be…a damn good reason. Maybe they had a common enemy. You know, revenge and hate can lead you down a very dark path.” He glanced around him and then he suddenly had a clue. “What if….there is someone in this maze, beside us? What if, she let him use the maze…for a purpose other than her own?’

Perhaps the Alp was on to something, but the train of thought left his mind when Mariela again quizzed the hat and the price that would be paid for using the magic within. The colour drained from his face, as he stepped right up to her and went to grab her shoulders. Staring at her he said softly.

“Imagine a place where you had no power, no magic. The hat is a portal in a way. You could use it and save yourself.”Scar turned his head away from her as he closed his eyes. Was his love for her so much that he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice?

~RB~

 

Dessy;  Mariela took a deep breath and put her arms by her side. She was getting angry. This entire thing was just frustrating her in many ways. From being dragged out of the ballroom, to being in a terrifying maze, to this whole confusing mess with the two Lydia’s and the two mirrors. It was frustrating the young witch. All she wanted was for the entire mess to be over, and that’s it. She rested her arms at her sides, watching Scar as he spoke.

“Why would a Warlock do a deal with the Demon of Ambition….and Greed? Why do you think?”

This caused Mariela to give a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t know. It could be anything. But Lydia and this warlock were obviously working together for something. For what, Mariela didn’t know. “I know there must be a “damn good reason”, but what is that reason?” she asked. The witch was too curious for her own good – asked so many questions. “Yeah… “Hate” is starting to lead me down the path where I’m going to destroy the next living creature that appears in this damn maze.” she grumbled, putting her hands on her hips. At Scar’s next words, Mariela’s eyes widened. “What purpose would that be? And if there is someone else in this maze, then we have to find them, Scar. We can’t leave them in the dangers of the maze.” she spoke, now determined to save whoever this person was from the terror of the maze. She wasn’t going to just leave them here.

All of a sudden, the color drained from Scar’s face when she mentioned the hat again. He grabbed her shoulders, staring at her as he spoke, and Mariela’s green eyes stared into his red one’s. “If losing my magic is the price I have to pay, then I’m not doing it.” she spoke, but watched turn away from her and close his eyes. “My magic is the only part of my family I have left, and I fully intend on keeping it.” she spoke, crossing her arms now. “And I never said I wanted to go to another dimension. Because I don’t.” she said, but her face softened. “There’s something you’re not telling me about this, Scar. I can see it in your face.” she said. She took one of her hands and placed it on the Alp’s shoulder. “What is it?” she then asked, tilting her head to the side as her other hand lay by her side.

 

Artie:  Blackness, then slight light. More blackness, then light again.. Bandit’s eyes would flutter open slowly, laboriously, her head pounding as though she’d been knocked out. What a hell of a dream.. Though, she would soon find it wasn’t much of a dream. Her wrists felt sore underneath her, her whole body aching with a dull and burning pain. She would push herself off of the grass, attempting to take in her surroundings through a fog of pain in her head. Her eyes blinked again, lids heavy and yet not fully opened yet. A light groan escaped her lips, a tired look on her face that had a prominent bruise on her cheek, in the midst of a healed but dirty cut. How it had gotten there, she couldn’t tell. Blonde hair that was stained brown fell into her face, furthering to cloud her vision. With a light huff the female would manage to sit herself up, reaching to her neck to find no collar… a clear ploy of some sort. She was sure it had merely moved itself to be around an ankle, but she wasn’t sure. At the moment, all of her limbs felt painfully dead and dull.

“Hello?” The word formed on her lips, but her throat was so dry all that came out was a soft croak, more along the lines of ‘grnoa?’ She herself could only barely hear the noise come from herself – it was so painfully quiet of a noise. This was the effect of little water, the burning that steadily rose a direct symptom of this dry throat. She would lick her lips, but unsuccessfully, as her tongue had little moisture to begin with. As she began to somewhat focus, yet still weakened, Bandit would gaze down at herself. She was fortunate to be back into clothes, her prior clothing.. It was in the same dirty condition, with a minor tear on the hem of her shirt or pants leg, but otherwise they seemed to be unaffected. Where am I? Pure willpower would force her to crawl to a hedge of the maze across from her, sitting up but un-moving as she appeared almost dead, eyes barely open from the energy crawling here had required. Her head slumped a bit as her eyes closed, the sounds of something in the distance.. voices, maybe? She couldn’t be sure if they were friend or foe, but she would try to not make herself known, knowing an enemy wouldn’t be fended off if she was found..

Dispelling myths – BC.

Finding answers in the City Library was proving harder than first thought.  One book would be borrowed and given to Selina, but Joel knew that the search would have to continue if they were to trace her family in this time period.

Scene setting : The City Library – Blood City.

Co-written with Gene and Temp.

 

Gene:  

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The contents were a list of names of supernaturals: vampires, fairies, ghosts, shape shifters, demons and more. Over half of these Ava hadn’t heard of; it was obvious the book was a collection of races which existed and didn’t exist, though Ava wasn’t sure which ones were real. She came to a halt when she found Witches. Flicking to the page number, Ava began to read.

The book began with what Witches were – as if the reader didn’t know what they were – and then moved onto how Witches are perceived: old hags, young maidens, demonic creatures in human form. It brought a smile to her face to see how the book mocked the perceptions others had about Witches. Eventually, the chapter became more serious: its description of Witches was pretty accurate. They pretty much the same as humans, the book described, with the addition of magical abilities. It was unfortunate Ava had made the decision to skim read; there simply wasn’t enough time to read the whole chapter. Luckily enough, a few pages in, the book moved onto the history of Witches. Some accounts of the race were probably folk lore; Ava did not mind. After all, the author had to include some humour to keep the reader engaged. It was until she came to part where Witches in the twelfth century she began to read.
Her reading was disrupted by the intrusion of Joel.

The only indication of her irritation, at what he said, was that she folded her left arm and sighed slightly.

“I don’t think we’d get any real facts on Witches since no one really knows they exist. We’ll only find rumors and myths in these books,” Ava looked over to Selina, who was sitting down. “The archives might help,” The amount of times her history teacher had voiced his fascination with the archives was far too much. “If we knew her last name, maybe we might see them in the archives,”

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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Joel figured Ava was not to pleased with what the Teacher had said. She was doing the best she could to find some clue to Selina’s origin and what led her to be in this time, but trying to find that in a book of myths might not have been the best place to start. A book like this one needs to be studied at length for hours, not a matter of minutes. Joel himself should have known that. As Ava concluded that whoever wrote the book did so from a skeptic’s point of view, or perhaps a human’s, then it would be classified as myth not fact. Thankfully, Ava was a bright child and had a better idea of where to look, since the book currently offered no substantial leads.

“The archives might help.”

“They might indeed, Miss Blackbane.”

“If we knew her last name, maybe we might see them in the archives.”

Thinking for a moment, when Joel and Ava were back at the Peach cafe, they had made introductions, and he recalled what Selina had said. “Her surname is Shamandalie. Selina Shamandalie.”

So this was the name that they would be searching for. Joel gave Ava’s back a light pat, and to lift her spirits hopefully, he added. “Good thinking.” Joel didn’t give out praise often. “But I think we might borrow this book. If not just for the simple fact there might be something in there that triggers Selina’s memory. Who knows, she might be able to dispel a few myths for us, hmm?”

Joel turned his head to check on Selina, who was now swinging her legs back and forth and sucking on one of his mints. Least the child priestess knew how to behave in a Library.

 

~RB~

 

Gene:

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Closing the book, Ava was unable to hide her smile when Joel praised her. She nodded, in thanks, and was about to ask Joel to put the book back where it originally was – as its home was too high for Ava to reach; hopefully, the man would not notice this, unless it was very observant – until he advised that they should borrow the book for Selina.

“Okay,” Ava nodded; she removed her purse from her leather jacket and fumbled around for her cards until she came to her library one. “I’ll go take this book out,” She proceeded to walk away and head for the counter.
As she approached the counter, gave her library card, and asked to take the book out, she recalled the name Joel had said. Selina Shamandalie; the surname rang no bells. Perhaps it was a good thing. If the family still existed, who knows what they’d be doing? They’d be Witches – that’s for sure – but would they be good or bad? As quickly as the questions arose, Ava dismissed them. Now was not the right time.

Taking her card and book, she picked up the bags she had left near her seat – as Ava didn’t want anything to take any of the contents – then returned to maze of bookshelves, searching for Selina and Joel.

Upon finding them, she’d ask, “Where are the archives…?” Ava was almost too embarrassed to ask. Would they be treasured in the library or elsewhere? She had no clue about such things and maybe it was good she didn’t. After all, one would except someone of Ava’s age to not care about such things.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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Joel watched Ava take the book over to the counter to take out, using her library card. While it didn’t have the answers that they sought straight up, it could be useful down the track. The teacher made his way back over to where Selina was sitting, and reached out to ruffle her hair in an affectionate manner. He normally was not like this as he only mixed with students during working hours at the school. He had a younger sister at home, who was now too old to play games with, though they were still pretty close. She was one of the few people that understood Joel. You could say that they had a very special bond. Joel had not given much forethought in how they were going to help the girl beyond finding out if she had any living relations, or even if they could find people that were….well, her kind. The teacher didn’t even know where to look, in this day and age. Though his research into the occult, which he never thought he would come to use; might be of help to the child Priestess.

“Ava is just borrowing a book that we might need.” The teacher offered, right as Ava returned and asked where the archives might be. Joel thought for a moment, and then he raised a finger as the answer struck him. “The Hall of public records. It’s near the city council chambers. A bus ride from here.”

The Hall of public records was a government funded facility that held documents, certificates newspaper articles and classified documents, that only were released under the freedom of information act one hundred years after they were sealed.

Joel picked up his satchel and threaded it over his arm to rest the strap on his shoulder.

“Come on, we’ve pretty well exhausted the search here. Next stop, the Hall of records.”

 

~RB~

 

Gene:

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“Hall of Public Records?” The name was familiar to Ava, however she had never been there. Why would she? Such a place would be a bore to any 16 year old. It did make sense that the archives would be stored there. Despite the name, Ava pretty much knew not everything would be public. There would be secret documents – information the Council wouldn’t want anyone to find out – within some part of the building. Or was Ava being too naïve? Would the Council hide things of importance in the Hall of Public Records? It was where Ava would expect them to be stored – that or the Town Hall. Though, the truths about the City might not be placed in either location for the very reason people would assume they’d be there.

Ava held the book out to Selina, “Perhaps it’ll be useful to you. Page 432. That’s the section on Witches,” When Selina took the book; Ava would pick up her bags. She checked her watch. It was noon, almost evening. Before nightfall, Ava hoped they’d discover at least something else about Selina. Where would the girl stay? Joel was the likely solution as Ava’s parents would never allow Selina stay the night.

Her phone buzzed and Ava pulled it out. Her mother was calling her. Swiftly, she muted the call and nodded to indicate she was ready; time to catch the bus.

 

Temp: Joel and Ava were certainly determined to assist her, which was something that she greatly appreciated. Selina also knew that Tallulah appreciated the assistance that she was being granted, though it didn’t really benefit her at all. If it were up to Tallulah she would turn Selina back into her true self for awhile, but she knew that this version of Selina wanted no part in that. Being split between two very different personalities wasn’t easy, nor was it easy to maintain. It was a constant stress on Selina’s body and soul, as well as Tallulah’s. However, it was inevitable that Selina’s true self would soon make an appearance, but for how long would she be present? That mostly depended on the severity of the situation. So far she had not been threatened, but the moment that she was…things could go very bad. That was all yet to be seen though, so for now Selina and Tallulah would rely on Joel and Ava. She happily took the book that was offered to her and picked up Tallulah from the table, then pushed herself out of her seat and started following the two. Apparently they were off to yet another location.

 

 

The Maze of Greed – Part Three : SS.

There are many untold dangers lurking in the Maze of Greed.  Mariela, the witch has escaped one, thanks to the magic of Scar’s hat.

Scene setting – The Maze of Greed.  Seven Sins Series.

Co-written with Dessy.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Scar felt a tingling sensation just after he had shouted for Mariela to put the hat on if she could. He knew what the hat could do, but did Mariela? Hearing her voice, the desperation in the tone made Scar all the more determined to find her in this hellish maze. Scar had a renewed sense of urgency as he raced down yet another path that was lined with hedge walls so high that you couldn’t see over them. The alp was panting, much like a canine – rounding another bend and yet seeing no sign of his beloved Mariela.

The snake woman statue lurched forward with the intent to grab at the witch. This statue that had come to life was one of the charmed attractions of the maze. A deadly creature that if she had gotten her hooks into the young witch, she would have set her venomous snakes upon her. Her yellowing eyes glistened with hatred as she swung out, only to have the witch vanish before her eyes. All because she put on the magical hat. The snakes drew back their heads sharply – then started a slow dance like motion, using their senses to try and feel a change in the air flow to find the wily witch.

The charms clinked and rattled all around the snake woman statue, who was now hissing violently in her desperation to snatch at the witch. Her head snapped towards the sound of Mariela’s foot falls as she fled from the scene. Her nose crinkled up in disgust, since she could not capture the girl, but just as the statue started to stiffen, Scar turned the corner – almost running smack bang into it.

“GAK!” The alp explained. He looked up slowly to see the menacing eyes of the statue once again brighten. “Oh……shit.”Yes, the Alp was frightened, but then he used his agility in speed to zip around the statue. Making faces, and blowing raspberries at it. The snakes flew out, snapping at him wildly but the alp was simply too fast. He was like a blur of black and white, being the tuxedo that he wore. This was turning into a bit of a game but one where he was trying to get the snakes all tangled up and cause the statue to become trapped within her own creatures.

“Ehehehehehehe!”

Scar was such an odd one at times.

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela had eventually stopped running – mainly so she could catch her breath. She turned around to look in the direction she was just running from. She hadn’t heard anything else from Scar after last time, and she was beginning to worry. The maze was huge, and she didn’t want to know what else was in this maze, or get lost in it. She was walking backwards, watching the statue as it appeared angry that it couldn’t catch her. This caused a grin to appear on Mariela’s face.

She then squinted her eyes at a blur of black and white – before hearing familiar laughter. Scar. Mariela had ran towards it a few feet, before stopping and watching Scar make faces at the statue. “What the hell is he doing?” she mumbled. Mariela had a very amused expression on her face, and it took every urge to not burst into laughter. He was acting like a five year old, and the entire scene was quite amusing. He was… an odd one, that much was for sure.

She waited for Scar to run towards her, but the Alp seemed too busy. Mariela gave a groan and a roll of her eyes, before running in his direction. She took Scar’s hat off to make her visible, before quickly grabbing his hand. She spun around afterwards and began running again, pulling Scar along with her. She stopped after they had ran several feet and handed his hat to him. “I believe you might need this back.” she spoke, although she was also trying to catch her breathe. “And what took you so long?”

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was a strange, yet comical sight to see the snakes slither around and around the statue maiden daring to try and attack the wicked alp who was simply way too fast for them. Within no time at all, the snakes were all knotted and tied up, causing the statue to be unable to lift her arms. Scar continued with the childish taunting, the poking out of his tongue and the cross eyed expression that would have any child in fits of laughter. He would have continued, had it not been for the sudden sound of Mariela’s voice – a light mumble asking him what on earth he was doing.

Scar finally stopped to catch his breath, tossing a glance back at the statue and then smiling proudly at Marelia.

“Snake charming.”

It was said so off the cuff, that it was simply ridiculous. Before Scar could say how pleased he was to see her, Mariela snatched at his hand and spun on her heel to drag the wicked Alp along with her. Scar almost got pulled off his feet and it took him a bit of effort to keep up with the witch. Only when she stopped a few feet away from the now incensed statue that she spoke to him. It was hard to tell what she was saying, cause she was visibly out of breath.

“I believe you might need this back.”

“Why thank you. Did the trick, didn’t it?’ Scar took the hat graciously and placed it back on his head, giving it a firm pat and then tilting it to the side. You had to admit, it looked better on Scar than it did on Mariela.

“And what took you so long?”

“Ah…yes. Well. Remember birdy?” Scar said with a slight tilt of the head. He wasn’t sure how the witch would take this news. “Let’s just say he would make wonderful pillow stuffing.” In other words, he was dead. Scar shrugged his shoulders. “Oops. My temper got the bad of me.”

Pouting he approached Mariela and uttered softly. “I am sorry. Old habits…and all that.”

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Snake charming.”

This caused Mariela to roll her eyes. “That’s just…” she started, before sighing. “You know what? Nevermind.” she then said with a shake of her head. She looked over towards the statue and gave a grin. “Well, at least you’ve managed to get snake lady over there distracted for a while. That’s a good thing.” she said with a nod of her head. She then turned her gaze back to Scar. By this time, she had caught her breath back – at least for now.

“Mm… yes, it did. The hat isn’t just a simple accessory after all.” Mariela commented, grinning. The hat looked far better on Scar than it did on her. That was for sure. Mariela narrowed her eyes and titled her head at the mention of Birdy. “The one you got in a fight with? Yes, of course I remember him.” she spoke. At his comment, she widened her eyes. “You… killed him?” she then spoke in a shocked tone. “I can clearly see that.” she said when he mentioned his temper. She then shook her head. “One less person we have to worry about.”

Mariela gave Scar a pat on his arm when he apologized. “No need. Old habits die hard. I get it.” she gave a smile, before growing serious and putting her hands on her hips. “Now, I don’t suppose you have a trick in that fancy hat of yours to get us out of this death trap of a maze, huh?”

 

Razorbackwriter:  Rows of glistening razor sharp teeth were on show as Scar cracked a huge smile at Mariela’s words. According to her, he had done a good thing by trapping the snake woman statue in her own snakes. It was rare for anyone to pay he a compliment, let alone say he did something good, considering what he had just done to Birdy. Course, what he did do to Birdy was the next source of conversation and her reaction left him feeling a tad nervous. Scar succumbed to temptation to eliminate the raven man as he believed that Mariela’s life was in danger at his hands.

“One less creature, my young witch. I dare say that Lydia has many more lurking amongst the hedge walls.” His eyes taking in their current surrounds before settling his gaze back upon the beautiful Mariela. For a young innocent she was handling the maze rather well….considering. “This maze is no simple parlor game. It was designed with a sole purpose in mind.”Again that would take thoughts back to Lydia’s evil schemes. One thing he did know was that Lydia did not do this on her own.


“There is…one more thing I didn’t tell you.” Scar started, only stopping when Mariela asked if there was another fancy trick in that hat of his. Scar pinched the edge of his hat with his thumb and index finger – dragging the pair along the brim with a quick flick. The alp’s mind racing as he teetered on whether to tell Mariela or not.

He lowered his hand uneasily and stepped back from the witch.

“It….could. But I must warn you, there is always a price to pay.”

What he meant by that was something he was not quite ready to divulge.

~RB~

 

Dessy:  Mariela watched him as he smiled after she commented on him trapping the statue with her own snakes. She gave a smile as well, but the smile then went way and ended up with an eyebrow raise. “Your witch? I don’t recall ever being “yours”…” she spoke, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. HIS witch? She wasn’t property. Scar didn’t own her – nobody did. “Yeah… I really don’t wanna stick around to to find out what those other creatures are.” she said nervously, this causing her to shiver because she could only imagine. And she didn’t want to.

“Really? I could have never guessed considering I got got attacked by a statue and her snakes.” Mariela said with an eye roll. “That “sole purpose” is obviously death. Lydia is much more evil than I originally thought.” she stated. Mariela’s face grew serious at Scar’s next words.

“There is…one more thing I didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, boy.” Mariela sighed. “And what would that be?” she asked, mentally preparing for whatever came out of the Alp’s mouth. She was not having fun right now. Not at all. Mariela eyed him the entire time, and wehen he took a step back, Mariela tilted her blonde head. “I don’t like the way you said that.” she spoke with a frown. “What “price”? Why does everything come with a price?”

 

 

 

Tallulah : More than a toy – BC.

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Joel and Ava were now on the hunt for clues.  The library could be a wealth of information, if you knew where to look.  The cat plushie that Selina held was not what it appeared to be.  

Scene setting :The City Library, Blood City.

Co-written with Gene and Temp.

 

Temp:  Selina was appreciative of the assistance she was being given, but she felt like she was being looked at strangely by Ava. Mostly everything she had said and done shocked the girl into a new period of time, but why? Perhaps she was like her, a Witch? Or maybe she was someone who hated her kind? Selina really couldn’t figure it out, but she knew that it bothered her. Hopefully Ava didn’t actually have any negative feelings towards her, and instead was either nervous or extremely curious. Either way, she wouldn’t fault the girl.

While Ava was being told what to do, Selina turned her attention back to Joel, who was now questioning the plushie she carried with her. Her head tilted down as she looked at it, then back up to Joel. “Not cursed, but possessed…tis’ a demon in mine service, and the lady helpeth to keepeth me under control.” Joel likely wouldn’t understand what she meant by ‘control’, but she could explain that if he questioned her further on the subject. Tallulah didn’t offer any argument or comments to her revealing this information, which meant that Selina was free to do as she wished. This would help keep her in control of herself simply because she could express things without restraint.

 

Gene:

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After receiving her instructions, Ava shot a quick smile at Selina and Joel, and then walked away from the two. Purposely, she started at the shelves – dedicated to history – at the far end of where they were. She had to clear her mind. Ava leaned against the shelf, staring at the floor. Selina was a witch. No confirmation was needed; Ava didn’t want or need Selina to perform a spell – she just believed because, upon giving it further thought, witchcraft was a sufficient explanation. Her knowledge about things other than spells, when it came to witchcraft, was limited; her imagination began to run wild, thinking of the possibilities out there. Though, the only way she’d find out is if she began her task.

Removing her bodyweight from the shelf, Ava looked at the top row, tilting her head so she could read the titles on the spine. Some books were, essentially, a repetition of the ones before it, from a different author. There were books from the history of the world, species, even the universe, though she’d expect them to be in the Science section.

Finally, she came across which was much more suited to the ones she was looking for. The palm of her hand opened, and the book flew out from its position, landing in her hand. Her fingers ran over the title, inked into the cover: ‘The myths of the Supernatural’. Opening the book, she began to read the first page.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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Ever have the feeling that you are in too deep? Joel was starting to feel this way. From what would be considered fiction to many, this girl was basically saying that she was a High priestess from a fifteenth century coven, and that in her arms she was holding a demon, no less whose job was to keep her under control. Whether the plushie was doing a very good job of that remained to be seen. Joel began to ponder. If she was a being of great power, than why was she in form of a child? Surely a Priestess would be an adult. Again Joel rubbed his chin. Nodding at appropriate times, but keeping a close eye on how this girl reacted to his questioning. She was so upfront, and not holding back, really. This either meant she was telling the truth as she knew it, or….she was the best cosplaying actress on the planet.

Joel checked over his shoulder on Ava, who had now found a book – hopefully one that would give them some insight into Selina. Wanting to keep the girl calm and content, Joel reached into his satchel and pulled out a small packet of mints. He enjoyed these when he was on the bus, or in between classes. He kindly offered the packet to Selina, not as a bribe, but hopefully something she would enjoy.

“Here…these are mints. Very tasty and good for your breath.” Not a great choice of words, but the good intent was there. If she took them, Joel would excuse himself and make his way over to Ava, but not before placing down his satchel at the study table.

“The myths of the Supernatural?” Joel had come up alongside Ava and used the crook of his finger to gain a view of the cover.

“We want facts…..not myths.”

~RB~

 

Temp:  Selina tilted her head to the side as she looked up at Joel. Her eyes scanned him curiously, and eventually she looked down at Tallulah. He was a very curious man, but he didn’t seem at all familiar with magic. Perhaps he was unique in some way, or perhaps he was genuinely just trying to help her. She happily took the item that was offered to her by Joel, and payed no mind to him walking away and over to Ava. The two were obviously looking for some kind of history on her and her coven, which she didn’t mind. Though, she did think it was pointless.

Eventually, she stepped over to a desk and took a seat, setting down Tallulah on the table as she did so. She then leaned forward on the table and pat the plushie on it’s head, offering it a smile. “Tallulah, thou may speak…I order thou, obey mine words.”Tallulah could be very stubborn from time to time, and she had been that way since the cafe. “A’rite a’rite…sheesh, you didn’t have to invoke a command…whaddaya want?” Selina sighed in relief when she heard the voice of Tallulah, finally the demon had decided to comply, though this time it had no choice. “What doth thou think…about all this?” The opinion of her demonic servant was something that mattered to Selina. “Honestly, I think I shoulda let the real you get used to this world first…but you’re adjusting well enough, other than that old ass speech.”Selina wasn’t exactly comfortable with Tallulah possibly wanting her awakened form out, but she respected her opinion. She let out a sigh as she popped one of the mints in her mouth, finding it’s flavor to be very strange. It was unlike anything she’d ever eaten before. For now, she would remain seated, kicking her feet and enjoying her mints while Joel and Ava did as they pleased.

 

 

 

The Child Priestess – BC.

Selina offers up more information about her past.  Could something so fanciful be true?

Scene setting : The City Library – Blood City.

Co-written with Temp and Gene.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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There was no mistaking the look on Ava’s face. Or the fact that she blurted the question that Selina was a witch not once but twice. The good thing was she was managing to keep her voice low enough to not cause further unwanted attention. The teacher’s eyes darted from Selina and back to Ava who was truly having a great deal of trouble with this startling revelation. It was when Ava accepted this news, that Joel got her full attention. She believed. Most girls her age would be arguing how it was the stuff of make believe, fantasy and fiction. Yet, here she was….ready to believe. ~Interesting.~

“Okay. The Back Halo,” It was if she knew more than she was letting on. Joel had no idea what the Black Halo was or even meant, but Ava was mulling it over, as though she might be able to make a connection. Instead of going further, she questioned what Joel thought about how they might track down witches in something like public records. Surely they would hide, she added.

“No doubt they would try to hide themselves from public scrutiny. But they were still part of the society of the day, and so there would be records of their existence, if only by the surname. We could possibly trace them through census or even gazette clippings. If they had that back then.” Joel offering Selina a smile as he said this.

The Teacher placed his hand gently upon Selina’s shoulder and said. “I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the Black Halo, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t find out more about it. Even if it is regarded as superstition.” He shot Ava a look and then said. “We need to find the earliest books of settlement in the district. Who the leading family was at the time.”

This was turning into a hunt for the existence of witches, not only in the past…..but in the present.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Selina kind of figured that neither of them knew what The Black Halo was, so their lack of knowledge was expected. She knew damn well that everything from her past was dead and gone, and that she had to accept it. The thoughts of the past were interrupted by the mention of her being a Witch. It seemed to be a very unexpected thing judging by their reactions. “I am the High Priestess, and all that remains…” Her Grimoire was no longer hushing her or stopping her from revealing anything, as the fact she was a Witch was now out there. The only comforting thing she could find was the fact that neither of them took out a torch to burn her with.

 

Gene:  

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Joel’s instructions were clear. With him being older – and therefore, far more intelligent – he knew what to look for and where to look for it. Ava turned on her heels, pausing when she saw the section they were in: history. Here might be a good place to start searching. Ava wasn’t concerned with what they would find; instead, she knew the knowledge would benefit her. She was more concerned with how long it’d take them. As the whole conversation regarding Witches subsided, Ava managed to put on a masquerade of calmness. Never – in one day – had she undergone the state of shock so many times.

It was a pity she’d enter the state once more when Selina revealed she was the High Priestess of this Black Halo coven. This time, Ava managed to control herself. All she did was look at Selina, blink twice, then look away. She wanted to think it was impossible that the girl could be a High Priestess; Selina was short, she appeared meek and almost powerless; she seemed like a child.

“Should I look at history books, then?” Ava asked Joel, not wanting to go off and come back, realising she had been going through the wrong books.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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The Teacher held his breath a moment, when Ava asked if she should be looking at the history books in that section. The weight of Selina’s words was still being felt. According to her, she was the High Priestess of the Black halo coven. That would have been a person of great power and significance. Yet her appearance showed her to be barely a child. A child that clutched a cat toy as though her very life depended on it. Joel thought for a second, as his hand absently caressed the side of his leather satchel, that contained a very old and special tome. It was not one that belonged to the library, nor did he wish to take it out again….not yet. Especially not now. As much as he wanted to help this young girl….this Witch; there was some things that he was still trying to learn and they were in that very book in his possession.

“Look under the history of the occult in the city. They should have something.” Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke, only turning his head slowly, to jerk it in the direction in which to find it. He hoped that Ava would simply do as she was told, rather than argue.

Turning his attentions back to Selina, he cast his eyes down at the cat plushie she held. Could this be something of importance to her magic? He decided to ask.

“So….if you are really a High Priestess, then maybe you can explain the toy. I know you have spoken to it a few times. Is it cursed as well?”

Joel was no fool. He had begun to study the girl from the moment that she entered the Peach Cafe, and nothing escaped his attention. He waited with a raised brow for her reaction. It was not like he was trying to take it from her, but more to understand its significance.

~RB~

 

 

Little Girl Lost – BC.

 

Scene setting : The Peach Cafe – Blood City.

co-written with Temp and Gene.

 

Temp:  Well, at least there were still gentlemen in this time period. The mans sole satisfaction with her smile was flattering, and the words were more than welcomed. It was a nice change of pace from strange looks and mumbled words. Unfortunately, the girl near the man seemed to be unsure as to how she should interact with her. The very late wave was something she decided to forgive and let go, rather than find any kind of offense. Selina was different from everyone around her, that much she was beginning to understand. From what she had gathered so far, there had been quite a bit of advancement as far as the human race went, both in terms of society and intelligence. There was likely a great deal of learning that she had to do, at least if she wished to live among these humans. The alternative to adapting to this new urban environment was to live in the wilderness. There would be a great deal of room for experimentation and witchcraft, should she choose to partake in it. It would also mean that her Awakened form wouldn’t be able to cause any sort of disaster. Leaving was definitely the best option, no doubt about it. Surviving on her own wouldn’t prove very difficult, or at least she assumed so. Before she did anything she would have to speak with her Grimoire, who was currently being stubborn and keeping her mouth shut. For now, she could at least enjoy her time among these ‘modern’ humans. Who knows, maybe she’ll even learn something.

Presently, she was too busy focusing on the food in front of her to notice anything going on around her. Anyone staring or talking about her would go unnoticed, at least for now. The quality of the food was a massive improvement from what she could remember eating in the past, which was fantastic. She had always enjoyed sweet things, but these biscuits were simply amazing. The tea was also very good and really fresh, which was quite surprising. The advancements to cooking techniques were something she was very excited to experience. Eating in general was something she loved doing. Thankfully she had no reason to worry about her figure, a true miracle. “So much hath changed.” Speaking to herself was a common practice she took part in, though this time she was communicating with Tallulah, who still remained still and silent. Was the world view on magic another thing that had changed? There was no other reason for her to remain inactive than that, considering she was very talkative when the two were previously alone. The silence was beginning to make her feel a bit lonely and depressed. Which only helped make her realize that she really was completely alone. Not one person from her coven likely remained, even descendants were highly unlikely to be alive. “I wish I couldst return to mine slumber…” Why hadn’t she thought of this from the beginning? Maybe she was just trying to deny the facts. Either way, it was unsettling and very distressing. A tightening of her chest was beginning to develop, as well as a very clear look of dread that now painted itself upon her face. She was starting to feel unstable, which was not a good thing at all.

 

Gene:

 

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The kindness and politeness displayed by Joel, to the girl, did come to Ava’s attention. He was an interesting person – that was for sure. Ava almost wished she could do the same; quickly switch how she acted around certain people. It’d certainly be a useful skill.

When Joel explained why he helped her, Ava’s gaze flickered to the floor. He had a point; people feared the unknown. Even Ava did, especially when she first began to practice magic. However, her fascination and curiosity was sufficient enough to motivate her to continue. Ava looked towards the girl. She was eating, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. She only turned to face Joel when he posed the question. This brought about silence once more. Anyone would want help if they were lost and hungry; the answer was simple enough, but Ava knew that wasn’t the point. Even though everyone would say yes, it was ironic how they wouldn’t help someone else in that same position. Ava wasn’t brought up to be charitable and had hardly been exposed to the poverty within the City. It was the same reason why she read the newspaper: Ava wanted to learn the truth about the City. The City – or the world for that matter – wasn’t a utopia.

“I understand,” She nodded. Just talking to Joel was allowing Ava to learn new things and open her mind; well, he was a teacher after all, “Should we ask her to sit with us?”

Once again, Ava twisted in her seat to look at Selina. This time was different. A look of worry was on Selina’s face and Ava’s own expression began to mimic it. Was the girl alright? Come to think of it, Ava realised she appeared to be around the age where one wouldn’t expect her to be out, in the city, by herself.

“Are you okay?” Ava called to her. A few of the neighbouring booths and tables heard the question, Selina once again becoming their centre of focus. It wasn’t Ava’s intention to bring any more attention to Ava; she bit down on her lip, silently cursing herself for her stupidity.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

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Soft words said only to herself were casually overheard. Joel couldn’t help but hear what the girl in the next booth was saying. Though it was not directed to anyone in particular, it did give rise to clues about the girl’s circumstance, and this suddenly made the young teacher curious. A natural trait of one that always was seeking to learn more about the world and those around him. Though Joel had his back to the girl, he was becoming more aware of her plight with each passing second. For a moment he zoned out of the conversation with the young pupil opposite him. Ava’s gaze was now going past Joel towards the girl in the next booth. Had what he said awakened something in her? Perhaps Ava did understand that Joel was in fact giving her a lesson on morals. “I understand.” But did she really? Only time would tell.

“Should we ask her to sit with us?”

“I wasn’t planning on staying much longer, but if you insist.” Joel was being honest in that he had planned to head home to Orago district. That was until the girl behind them muttered that so much had changed. What could she have meant by that? The girl was dressed as though she had stepped out of a time machine – not that there were even such things in existence. Not in reality anyways. Joel’s ears peaked again, when he heard the following remark again aimed at no one. “I wish I couldst return to mine slumber…”

That was enough for Joel.

“Go on and ask then, Miss Blackbane.”

Joel shifted in the booth, so that he could make room for the girl if she should happen to join them once Ava asked. Ava’s face however showed concern, which had Joel glance back at the girl again. Indeed the young girl was deeply troubled. Her lips pouting – a very real sadness showed. The tea and biscuits may have helped stave off hunger, but it was not enough to take away the sorrow. Who was this girl…..and where did she come from? More importantly, now that Joel studied her garments more closely…..when?

“Are you okay?” Ava called, bringing about the focus again of the entire cafe upon the young girl sitting alone in the next booth. That was the last thing she needed. Joel decided on action. Sliding across and out of the booth, he took the few steps and crouched down so that the girl could stare directly into his somber grey eyes.

“Please Miss. Come join us. We might be able to help you.”

Whether or not Joel could help remained to be seen, as he didn’t know the truth about the girl. Not yet. Joel offered his hand to the girl for her to take. Such gentleness in his expression, where from earlier he looked at the waitresses so differently. The young teacher could change emotions as easily as blinking. He waited patiently for the girl’s response.

~RB~

Frank takes the heat – GS.

Scene setting : Fifth and Maple Street; Joey’s apartment.

co-written with Chor and VunG.

 

VunG:  Elissa’s face remained stuck in an expression of intense pain and concentration as she tried to keep herself aware, and even as Tom and Frank came to her aid she tried to reach out for her gun again. No, she wasn’t about to try and pull some last stand maneuver, but she damn sure wanted to be armed. Every one of the extra shots made her blood boil, and even with her wound she wanted to fire back. Of course, she realized pretty quickly what a bad idea that was, and would promptly put her hand back into place while Tommy perched over her, stating the obvious. (No fucking shit,) she mouthed, not really caring if he actually saw or understood her words. They didn’t have time for the obvious to come down. But… she had to give up the fight, and nodded and remained in place while he found something to help bandage her.

She was aware of Frank returning fire, but beyond that Elissa was unable to really contribute much here. Still… apparently everything calmed down… which gave her enough time to bring her hand away and punch the floor furiously, slamming her head against the couch she was leaning against as she kicked herself for not noticing that damn sniper. She’d made longer shots than that, much less seen them, how the hell had she missed that?! Was she really slipping that much?! Was she really that much of a has-been?

Of course, just to make matters worse, Joey’s significant other came in at about that moment to see the carnage. Frank was quick on it, of course, and was able to get things under control. Grunting softly, she reached up to the buttons of her coat and undid them as quickly as she could manage, ignoring the pain of moving the arm involved. The moment the thing was off to allow for a little better access to her injury, her right hand returned to its place while the left went limp, tears of pain streaming down her face as she bit her lip. Under her jacket she was wearing what amounted to a grey tank top. Tommy would be able to see the wound clearly if he could get her hand away, and if he was paying attention he’d notice scars similar to her neck’s along both her arms and a single mark on the edge of her right shoulder where she’d been grazed by another bullet.

She was absolutely oblivious to the calls being made… except for Frank’s mention of an 11-41. Immediately shame overwhelmed her and she looked down, biting her lip as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Damn it all… was that all she was now? A freaking ambulance call?!

 

Chor:  Now Isa wouldn’t have called herself busy, but drinking her shitty coffee from the conference/break room down the hall just past the morgue was the one thing that she preferred to be uninterrupted in her morning routine. She guessed, though, that in the city that never, ever sleeps, ten in the morning was not too early for a homicide. Truthfully, she had been on overnight duty and just slept in her office. The lounge served comfortble enough for at most six hours of light, non-murder-interrupted sleep. The crackling of the heat coming on in the room caused her to wake about thirty-seven minutes earlier and her hair was still a raggedy, sad mess.
This, of course, homicidal maniacs did not take into consideration when they started killing for the day. One sip into the sludge shite in the cracked “Best Mom Ever” mug and the radio exploded with sound, turning her quiet world upside down and causing her to drop her liquid breakfast onto the counter. The mug bounced off the edge of the granite and tumbled to the floor, creating a scene more annoying than she wished to handle at the moment. Listening closely to the radio, she stood unblinking. 10-71. Not for her. 11-41. Still not her. Her fingers twitched. Now that she was alert, ready for it, she eyed the device hungrily. So quickly her emotions could change. When nothing else spewed from the muffled speakers and the sound quit its reverberation in the accoustic room, she bent and retrieved her cup. The handle was broken and where the piece sepearated was seen layers upon layers of all sorts of glue of different consistencies and colors. This cup is old, a piece of fine china in their little kitchinette, and she would put it back together again. Just like she always does.
A towel is procured from a bland gray cabinet and used to mop up the black mess. The coffee was actually so thick, it nearly reminded her of coagulated blood. A small smile tugged at her lips as she threw the towel in the ‘to-be-washed’ bin, where it woud sit for about a week and a half until she washed it at home. Her second in command for this shift, Khalil, opened the door gently, holding fresh scrubs she only imagined he planned to change into.
“I got word from the buses it’s homicide. Keep an ear out, I’m headed to change, you’re on dead guy duty, I’ll drive,” He said. Khalil didn’t have an office, mostly because he was new and not because he didn’t deserve one. He worked just as hard as any of the others, just Isa worked harder; and she was more qualified. She nodded, though, and followed him as he left the entrance. There was a pretty good chance they’d be seeing hearing someone call in a body within the next ten minutes. She pulled her coat on and plucked her clip board and pen off the shelf, waiting patiently in the corpse-mobile.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The street below Joey’s apartment, was now filled with brass and the blazing lights of squad cars and of course the ambulance. Tommy sat outside in the hall, his jacket now a disheveled mess, covered in blood and bits of broken glass. After having answered questions to one of the other officers, he was ordered outside while Frank was getting a dressing down from his superior.

“No warrant? Jesus, Frank. What were you thinking? You are just damn lucky this joint is full of drugs.” The Commander scowled, as he was handed a bag from one of the CSI teams. “More in the bedroom, Sir.” The rookie announced, as others were searching throughout the apartment for more. Frank had been consoling Patty, who was now being taken away by a special officer for the bereaved. Joey was laying on the floor under a sheet, while another cop was dusting for prints. There had been no word yet on the dark room, and this had Frank on tender hooks.

“Sir, I’m not going to lie. Joey Patone sent me some photographs and that is the reason I came here. I dragged Elissa and Tommy Xo in with me. So if you are going to throw the book at anyone, throw it at me.”

The Commander raised a brow, and then asked. “What photographs?” At this point, Frank directed the Commander to the dark room. The two gentlemen walked in and this was when the Commander’s face became quite stern. “So he liked a little photography. What has that got to do with anything?” The Commander not being able to see a connection. He could see the p*rn pictures, but then he saw the ones of the beast.

“What the devil?” He pulled one down and stared at it. “He was into Sci fi photography?”

Frank came up behind him and said. “Sir…look at the date.” It was the same date as the day Rory died. The image taken from the alley below. “Sir…that is the thing that took Rory. Joey…saw it too.”

“AHAHAHAHA. What a load of crock. He was fitting you up, Frank. This is ludicrous.” The commander wasn’t about to believe Frank. Who would? He spun on his heel and got in Frank’s face. “You got a dead man out there, and you have motive.”

“What?” It was incredulous to think that Frank would kill Joey, if he was the only other witness to the death of Rory. “Sir, you’ve got this all wrong. A sniper shot Joey through the window. Ask Elissa…..or Tommy.”

 

~RB~

Clueless – GS

 

Scene setting : The School

co-written with VunG.

 

VunG:  Elissa was wondering how long it would take John to pick up on her identity, it would be less distracting if he at the very least knew her name if they had met. She actually barely recognized him, though that was mostly because she tended not to work with the detectives all that much. Once their meeting got underway, she would nod to Tommy’s assessment; in fact, now that she thought about it, it would probably be bad to stick around. She was still more than a little baffled by the lack of evidence of casualties though. If this was a battlefield, there should’ve been bodies, or at least signs of these bodies, and there was no way this was anything other than that. Either that or it was extreme live-weapons training… which she doubted. She was willing to overlook the intact windows, again she knew that there were some weird weapons out there that could do some serious damage without that… but the lack of bullet holes was absolutely baffling her. If there were explosives, the windows would be blown out and there would be no bullet holes. If there were bullet holes there would be no blown out windows. A lack of either… all she could think of was something really big coming through with a wrecking ball.

The more she thought about it, the more her mind went back to that… thing in the pictures. Could that be what was out here? Why would it bite buildings? Thankfully her thoughts would be dragged from that as she wandered the school nearby and she caught John’s bizarre suggestion of a government military action. After an amused snort, she quickly wrote a note and handed it over to the man, shaking her head as she returned to her work. *I’m pretty certain if the government wanted to test a weapon on buildings there would be less high profile places than a school in the middle of New York. Try again.*

But… sadly, they were out of potential clues, not without turning this place over, and as John would soon point out, it would be a bad idea to keep the commander in the dark about this. And she didn’t want to get them in trouble over this; that wasn’t what she was here for. At the question, she nodded gladly and went to join Tommy while they called in the situation. Once the two were busy, she’d sign to him while he was putting away his stuff, ~Do you think the… thing in those pictures could have done this?~ She didn’t look as panicked anymore, but she definitely looked concerned, and wanted his opinion. This was frustrating, because her expertise in weapons had completely failed her, and she had nothing really to fall back on in this scenario.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Detective John Moss took Elissa’s note and took out his glasses to read it under the dim lighting. She was right. Why would any government agency pick a school to do its weapons testing? It was just not plausible. The problem that they all faced however, was finding evidence to pinpoint exactly what caused the destruction of the buildings. Tommy had already gathered as much photographic evidence as he could, but other than that, there was nothing else to be found on the ground. A site with no clues will make this a dead end investigation….or it would bring in every kook and whacko job from the cheap tabloids who would suggest conspiracy theories. The more Tommy thought about it, the less likely he would be to even show the photos to his editor. A story needs facts….names, clues. This had nothing.

As Tommy was putting the last of his gear away, Elissa asked him in sign if he thought the creature in the pictures did this. Her expression was one of calm and as though she was not discounting the creature in the photos that Frank had being very real. Shouldering his back pack, Tommy placed a hand on Elissa’s arm and then whispered to her ear. “It’s a strong possibility.. I mean, its size and the way Frank described it….something like that could have caused all this damage. But…if you ask me….something or someone…engaged it in battle. We just can’t prove it due to the lack of evidence.”

It was really like chasing ghosts, and Tommy was starting to feel like Fox Mulder from The X Files.

Detective John Moss was already on the phone to the precinct and soon about half a dozen squad cars along with the Commander’s car would all pull up at the school with their lights blazing. Some officers were already stringing up yellow police line tape, while others were walking around the debris taking photos and starting investigating the damage to the school. They were as clueless as the four that found the debris in the first place. Commander Brack, a forty year veteran of the force approached the four, as Tommy got in behind Frank….not wanting to be seen. Brack’s expression was one of disdain.

“So…what is all this then? Malone? Moss? Were either of you here to witness the destruction of the school?” Bracks asked gruffly before then noticing Elissa, who he had not seen for some time. “Well well well….if it isn’t former Captain Pourtales. Fancy finding you mixed up with these clowns. Oh….and super snoopTommy Xo, New York’s nosiest reporter. Seeing you all together at this school makes me think you had a hand in the damage. So…whose going to tell me just what happened? Hmm?” The Commander asked, folding his arms and waiting for someone to talk.

 

~RB~

 

VunG:  It was perhaps a little discouraging to hear Tommy’s assessment, mostly because she’d been hoping she was just losing her mind rather than have that aberration running around in their streets. However, the thought of something else fighting them was intriguing; if that thing was capable of doing this much damage… then what in the world was capable of standing toe-to-toe with it? It bothered her, and without a potential answer she felt very itchy. They needed a freaking exorcist or ghost buster or at the very least the Scooby Gang.

As the call was made, she’d go ahead and take them moment to pull out a small flask and swig a gulp of her whiskey, wincing as it went down. She knew that being drunk wasn’t the best idea right now, but she wasn’t drinking all that much, and she would probably need it to put up with that idiot Commander. As the cars came in, she went ahead joined the other three, smirking at Tommy as he hid behind Frank before shaking her head and standing calmly as they awaited the commander to deign to show his face. As he went to insult everyone on the site, she promptly pinched her forehead and shook her head with annoyance, letting out a rather loud sigh. She didn’t remember the man being such an imbecile, but then again she was usually just in the SWAT clique.

Snapping her fingers to get Tommy’s attention, she asked him to translate for her, then went ahead and spoke straight to the commander, nothing but a stoney expression shown to her former boss. ~I would advise against threatening or insulting us, considering we’re your only known ‘witnesses,’~ and she made sure to finger quote that last one to make a point, ~Second, we just arrived, I received an anonymous tip. Third, we don’t know what did it, but I’m pretty certain it wasn’t conventional explosives or firearms based on a lack of scorch marks, slugs, bulletholes, or blown out windows, so there’s your important details. Fourth, don’t insult your own men,~ and put extra flourish into the last one, her expression hardening as she glared at the commander. This wasn’t just something she would do for these three, this was her general reaction to any member of the force who was threatened, insulted, or otherwise acted against. She wasn’t usually a wildcat, but when it came to protecting the boys in blue, especially the honest ones, she was downright ferocious.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Everyone knew that Commander Bracks was a hot head – especially Tommy since he was the one that had a relationship with the Commander’s daughter. So, when Elissa asked Tommy to translate for her, Tommy grimaced and then flashed a cheesy smile at Commander Bracks who was in no mood for games. Elissa…was simply brilliant. Frank and John both stood quietly as she defended their reputations and gave a perfect account of what they had found, or rather what they hadn’t. Oh her gestures, followed by Tommy’s translations showed the girl had lost none of her spark, and Frank for one was proud of her and even straightened a little in her company. John Moss just stood there, feeling kinda out of it, since he was called in at the last minute. The last line….” don’t insult your own men” was given with an extra bit of oomph and Tommy made sure to relate that exactly as it was intended.

The Commander gruffly snorted at what he had heard. One of the other officers to come up alongside the chief confirmed exactly what Elissa had reported, much to the Commander’s annoyance. None of those at the site had anything to do with the destruction of the school.

“She’s right, Sir. There is nothing to suggest an explosion, or causalities. The site is clean.” The Commander’s eyes darkened and he stared hard at Elissa, who had stood her ground and glared back just intently. Hmmph!” That was all he could utter as many of the other police officers were coming up empty handed. Pointing a finger at Detective Moss, he ordered. “Have your report on my desk at 10am. Dismissed.:” And like that, he turned on his heel and headed back to his car.

Moss let out a sigh of relief that the incident for now was over, but there was obviously going to be words said back at the station. John took out his cell and then gave the other three a polite nod, before he headed for his car, and started to call his wife to let her know he was alright. Now it was just Tommy and Frank left standing with Elissa. Frank had kept his silence, with his head bowed. It seemed nothing he did was ever right in the eyes of his commander. What he wouldn’t give to crack the case of the death of his partner. The school was a dead end in his mind, but Tommy….he had other ideas.

“Okay, none of us are going to make it through the night without a coffee. I say, we go to the nearest coffee shop and refuel, before continuing the hunt for what took Rory.”

If Elissa agreed, they would all get into Tommy’s car and head to Jax’s coffee house. As they walked, Frank spoke quietly to Elissa as Tommy went ahead to put his gear in the boot of his car.

“Thanks. What you said…meant a lot.” His eyes softened as he watched her walk along side him. She didn’t have to stick around and put up with the crap from the Commander, but she did….and that was worth a great deal of respect in his eyes.

 

~RB~

 

VunG:  Oh it was so satisfying for Elissa to see the Commander stopped in his tracks after that stunt he pulled. Honestly, the guy should’ve, at the very least, been trying to help his men if he thought they weren’t in the best state of mind, not berating them; and honestly she couldn’t comprehend the idea of Frank doing that sort of thing to his partner. She’d only met the two of them a few times before, but she knew that they were best buds, and if Frank had been sick enough in the head to do something like that, then it would’ve shown up on a psych profiling. It was pretty satisfying too to hear that the other officers were pretty much backing her up, intentionally or no; at least she wasn’t completely botching it up.

Still, she felt sorry for poor John, and would flash him an apologetic expression as he took off, giving him a polite wave. Once it was over, she let out a breath and turned to the others, glad to see they’d at least stayed there, even if poor Frank was so beaten down that he ducked his head like a scared child. At least they’d weathered that storm. Of course, now that she’d just shouted down the police commander without a voice, her blood was pumping and, like Tommy, she wasn’t ready to call it quits for today, not yet. At the reporter’s suggestion, she nodded emphatically and fell into step .

Of course, what she hadn’t been expecting was for Frank to come up to him, and thank her for her words. Truth be told, she didn’t see it as anything grand, more what came naturally to her and what was right to do. Still, between the tone in his voice and the look on his face, she could tell it meant a lot to him. Perhaps she was the first person besides Tommy and maybe John to show any faith in him. The thought was kind of heartbreaking. Smiling back, she placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it lightly, telling him wordlessly that she was there for him, if nothing else. With that, she’d go ahead and find her place in the car, flopping into her seat with a sigh and began cracking her fingers.

 

Razorbackwriter:  John’s car pulled out of the parking lot, its red lights fading into the distance while the remaining squad car lights continued to blaze as morning was approaching. Sticking around the school was now no longer necessary. Their curiosity had been met with a dead end situation. A war zone with no clues. Slamming the boot of his car, Tommy checked Elissa as she found her place in the back seat and flopped in. The sound of cracking knuckles was her way of dealing with the stress, Tommy guessed, and he got in behind the driver’s wheel. Staying just a moment longer, Frank surveyed the area – memories of the night Rory disappeared mirroring the sight before him of all the cop cars and policemen looking for clues. Frank slammed his hand on the side of the car to let off steam before getting in beside Elissa and closing his door. Rubbing his hand lightly, he glanced at Elissa. You could see the guy was worn out and beaten down. Even his clothes hung on his body like they were too big for him. The guy probably hadn’t had a decent feed in months. Frank needed someone in his life. To shake him into awakening and to live each new day – not mourn what he had lost. But to do that he needed closure. The only way to get it, was to prove what he saw the night of Rory’s murder to be real.

Tommy’s car pulled away from the curb, and without word the three would head off to Jax’s coffee shop for a much needed cup of joe.

 

~RB~