Breadcumbs

BlackMagicWoman · Witch Way But Dead

Breadcumbs

Ashes Of Faith · Lukois' Lucifer

By the time he got to the scene the crowd was three deep around the barrier, and most of them were reporters. It's always hard tp push past a crowd of reporters with the scent of blood in their nostrils. Especially when you were Ash Redfern, vampire executioner, federal marshall, and local RPIT officer. It hadn't been like this in Salem, or at least not nearly as bad. Not as much media in tiny NorthEastern hamlets. As he got out of the Hummer he shut the door behind him and from the other side he could hear a mimicing clang as Detective Marcs joined him outside in the beautiful summer sun. A hand lifted to shade his eyes from the sun as they focused on the empty building behind the barrier. A building that the smell of something sulphurous was coming from. Ash wondered for a moment what Evie would be able to see if she touched something in this place. He got a whisper of evil from the air here so he knew for him to pick up on it that it had to be strong.

The second one of the reporters saw him heads started turning in his direction, microphones pushed forward as they tried to block his path to the baracades. Not an easy path to get through. You might not think so, since on camera they appear to be brain damaged wimps with severe eating disorder. But put them at a police barricade and a miraculous thing happens. They become strong, aggressive, willing and able to shove anything and anyone out of the way and trample them underfoot. It's a bit like stories of aged mothers lifting trucks when their child is trapped underneath. The strength comes from this mysterious place - and somehow, when there is gore on the ground, these anorexic creatures can push their way through anything. Without mussing their hair too. Luckily for us the officer on the other end of the tape recognized them.

"Let them through folks," he told the reporters. "Let them through."

Stepping under the yellow tape Ash straightened on the far side with the odd sensation that someone was tampering with the oxygen content of the Hawaiian air. The building looks like something that had at one time housed by marginal developers. Moving forward he seemed blind to the bustle of activity that was a part of every crime scene. Senses already tuned into what was in that building. Stopping he turned to Dakota.

"Go check in with the techs down by the booth where the call was made. Get me a print, a hair a fiber, anything. I know the operator will have a voice recording, I want copies of it delivered to the station before we even get back."

Since Lydia left for India it had just been him and Dakota. He had no problem setting aside the pack when he stepped onto a crime scene, so whatever went on between them in that capacity had nothing to do with this. For the moment they were both being overworked with the new weight of cases, but until he found someone new worth hiring there wasn't much to be done about it. Kota had said she met someone promising, but Ash had yet to encounter said person. Coming to the outside stairwell of the building he stopped there a moment and closed his eyes, a hand braced against the bare concrete of the wall. Senses were opened, walls lowered so he could get a clearer sense of what it was this place felt like, but it was nothing he had ever smelled before. Black timberwolf opened it's mouth and howled before leaping forward on the metaphysical plane and rubbing itself on the ground. Picking up the scent as it clung to that fur.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes opened and at the top of the stairs he saw Sergeant Gibson one of the islands leading homicide detectives, and the closest thing to a minion that the Homicide Head Miss Carlson had. He stared at Ash from above. His face a dark carved mask of curious hostility, like a rottweiller that wants to rip your arms off but is mildly interested in knowing first what flavor you might be. Obviously someone had their cranky pants on about having the spook squad called in on one of their cases. Seemed these days everything was either about politics of dick measuring contests, and Ash had little interest in either. There was also the little matter of Gibsons pro-human attitude. The moment he had found out what Ash was things had just gone down hill from there. Finally he looked at me and shook his head.

"One of these days, you and me."

"I'll take a rain check," Ash told him with all the good cheer he could muster. "In the meantime if you'll excuse me."

He stood there taking up the entire stairwell and just staring. But finally he nodded slightly and moved to one side. Ash waited and when the way was clear he moved past. There was a healthy spring in his steps as he made his way up the stairs, eager to see this most recent assault on the publics welfare. The assholes at homicide had already had the body moved to the M.E.s office so as Ash exited the stairwell and made his way into the thickest congested area in the building he pulled the slim black cell phone from the front breast pocket of his perfectly tailored suit jacket.

"Cypress, I need you to talk to Sphinx about the girl the department sent in today at..." Wrist was lifted and he looked at the face of that antique Rolex, guessing on the time. "About an hour ago is my best guess. It's been bumped to my department so he knows what that means. Thanks."

Phone was closed without a goodbye and slipped back into his breast pocket. From a passing tech he grabbed a pair of gloves and carefully fit them on over pale tattooed hands. Sometimes he wasn't sure what bothered people more. The wolf, or the tattoos. With a snap at the wrist the latex was in place, and he was moving towards the scene of the crime, which turned out at that point to be little more than a symbol in blood on the floor. Not exactly anything to write home about.

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After an exciting trip through the house of no corpses he was going back downstairs, leaving Detective Rodgers to interview and take notes, all the necessary things that Ash tried to deligate to others. He preferred to be on the stabbing end of a machete rather than the one who honed the edge. Finding Dakota he went towards her, ignoring the shouts and flashing bulbs from the reporters who were still playing at the barricade. Waiting for her to finish up what she was doing he took the time to try to store in those primal memory banks the various smells that lingered around the pay phone. Would he remember the right one at the right time? There was always a possibility.

"I need to go down to the M.E.s office and check in with Cypress and Sphinx. Homicide sent the bag packing before we were even called in," There was a slight edge of a growl to his voice there at the end but he suppressed it as best as he could. "After you finish up here can you go check something for me?"

Ash stopped one of the blue suits and got a pad and pen off of him, writing down an address and phone number on a piece of paper in his careful script. He was hoping to get some consultation from a source more in tune with this kind of ritual than either of them. This shit wasn't even up Dakotas alley except that the girl was now dead. Other than that this didn't feel a bit like necromancy.

"The store is called Thirteen Moons. There was one in Salem. They are supposed to have some very competent staff that might know more and be able to come out and take a look at the site after all this dies down some. That number's for one of Milos rats, Tommy. I don't know the girl who owns the store, but I'm pretty sure the two of them are together so he should be able to help if there's no one at the store when you go by."

Ash paused a moment watching Dakota carefully. He wanted to say be careful, but she was not pack here so he just turned and walked back towards the Hummer, leaving her to catch a ride with one of the other detectives.

Cypress · Ash's Doll

Long silky black hair shimmered in the florescent light, flashing the mix colors of extensions through the thick darkness. The strong smell of chemicals, death, blood and human excrements was masked by disinfectants. The loud whirring noise of the air was the only sound heard, until the ring tone of Leonard Cohen's I am your man started to play. Cypress would carefully pull the slim phone from her corset.

"Good afternoon my Ulfric."

"Cypress, I need you to talk to Sphinx about the girl the department sent in today at... About an hour ago is my best guess. It's been bumped to my department so he knows what that means. Thanks."

No goodbyes between them. Cypress closed the slim phone, slipping it back into the tight corset. Sphinx, walked along side the body Cypress was working on. Careful gloved hands placed on a leg, bone shinning in bright lights of the office. A tilt to his head. It was the body Ash had just been speaking about. Cypress explained to Sphinx, what Ash had wanted. Sphinx left her in charge of the body. He would check over it once again after she gave her report. A nod of her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Plucking gloves from the box at her side. Black thin gloves. The very same kind most tattooests used. Small hands would push through the powder-less gloves. With wiggling of fingers she smoothed out the latex.

Lashes, long framed Cypress' cheeks as she worked. The image of a doll dressed in a corset of deep blue, a cameo lace choker sitting at the hollow point of her throat. Came to anyone's mind if they stared at Cypress in that moment. Black lace edged the top of the silk corset traveling down the sides to the ends. Plump rear hidden away behind a skirt of black and dark gray lace. Lace piled on top of each other to give slight peeks of her paler than pale moonlight skin. The scars across her chest peeked. Ash's claw marks were still a soft shade of pink, in the process of healing even now. The older one of a heart with initials, had been broken through by Ash's claws, cutting across Haruka's initials.

Back bent lightly over the tissue of an exposed stomach. Gloved index caressed the skin that had been brutally ripped apart by teeth and claws. Lips parted to release her voice, a breathy calm smooth sound. Sphinx watched carefully, admiring Cypress' work. She was speaking not to Sphinx. It was the recorder for each case. Sphinx lifted his head turning to the door. Ash was coming in while Cypress spoke.

"Eyes are missing, removed before death. Liver, heart, kidneys are missing. Taken before teeth and claws were ever used."

Gentle fingers set in the gloves brushed over the meat. her wolf rolled on the floor enjoying the scents, the decay the carnage that was around her. The woman showed no signs of enjoyment. There was however a calmness around Cypress, more so than normal. The dead brought her a sense of belonging.

"Chest cavity was forced apart. Who ever did this was a little more than human. Not lycanthrope. Human, just a little more stronger than a normal human.The teeth and claw marks are not beast. They are not animal or lycanthrope claw marks and teeth."

More in part because Cypress could not smell one. The body held no scent of a lycanthrope. Held no scent of any animal actually. Lashes lifted, to give Sphinx and soon Ash, dreamy colorless eyes. Pupils swimming in the sea of white, with only a thin ring of deep dark blue showing what her eye color had once had been.

"Meat was ripped apart, carelessly. She was long dead before she had been eaten."

One hand moved to touch the leg with the shinny bone exposed. Meat clung to the bone by ligaments, tendons some ripped clean off, others hanging by hope. Gloved caressed the flesh still intact. A stump of a leg no more no less. It was just a pile of bones, meat and some organs, nothing else. Arms were intact, partly. The size of the chest the flare of what were once hips, told it had been a woman. Head, with fire red hair, nose crooked and broken.

Heels clicked against the flooring, stepping away from the body. From a pile of papers, Cypress lifted the pictures she had taken. She also brought Ash a mold of the woman's mouth.

"Teeth are still in tact."

-- Edited by Cypress at 17:45, 2008-05-05

Baleful Human · Duo Were'dness

Police scanners where one of her many connections to the job of contractor. So when the call came in that a possible lycan attack had happened she had departed the Humans First office in a hurry leaving the office jackels wondering where she was off to in a hurry. The white dodge peeled out of the parking lot and it took no time to get to the scene of the crime. Regretably it was already swarming with police officers and reporters. Parking down the street she watched and waited, camera was lifted from the backseat as she started to attach the lense. Leaning the lense on the steering wheel she flicked off pictures of the reporters and police arguing back and forth.

She would snap off a full roll of 27 pictures before setting the camera back in the case. Windows were rolled down as she watched, smoking cigarette after cigarette. A breadcrumb indeed.. the office jerks would have a field day with this. By morning the walls and telephone poles would be plastered with notices of warning from the HF demanding super's be brought to justice over the murder or what ever had happened. Smirk on her lips, she just happily sat and absorbed the happenings going on.

Faith · Vampire Reporter Extroardinaire

And there she was. Reduced to chasing flashing lights and loud sirens. When the dispatcher announced the emergency and a possible Lycanthrope attack. Faith was ready to hug the dusty police scanner she called "Scanny." He just made his rent on her dusty desk. Bag and keys and blackberry and voice recorder and camera in hand (one woman Inspector Gadget here) Faith bolted out of her house and into her Bugmobile. There were no sound effects, although she did get in without using the door. Shane made it look so effortless and Faith wanted to keep up. A bruised and slightly scraped thigh later she remembered that doors were there FOR A REASON.

But that didn't matter when Faith parked the car down the street where the cops haven't gotten to with their "Caution" tape. Primo parking space right in the heart of the action. With the tools of the trade in hand, Faith put on her most professional smile and canvassed the area. All the usual critters were there. The TV people, all flashy suits, too much makeup and hair that wouldn't move even if a tornado came by. Hell their hair would probably the only things that would be left standing. A thought that made Faith run her fingers through own her to make sure it hadn't mutated into a mess of snarls and tangles thanks to the ride in a convertible. Then came the Independent TV stations, less glam, more wrinkles, they covered the REAL news not just flash and glamor. OOOO a Murder, Swoon. Nope, not them. Then the occasional radio crew, which was possible to be staffed entirely by interns. A wrinkled polo shirt with the station logo on it pretty much confirmed that theory. Only newbies wore station gear "free publicity" HA!!!!! And then there were the news paper and journals people. Elbowing the hardest, trying to shove their voice recorders as close to anyone with a mouth as possible. Faith watched this go on and slunk off to the sides, listening to the conversations officers were having and then spying the tall, dark and pimpin man himself.

"ASH! Marshal Redfern! One moment of your time do you..." And he just walked past her like she was invisible. In this mess, well who could blame her, but man talk about a kick in the shin. It actually almost hurt, but no matter. Not one to crumble, or sob under pressure, Faith rose above, snatching a rookie in a uniform off to the side. Fact that a few buttons of her shirt were now mysteriously open...could have had something to do with the smile on his face, a promise of being in a nationally syndicated paper (Yeah right, Faith wished) or the fact that Faith was flirting like a Catholic girl with only one day till graduation. What ever it was Faith hit pay dirt. Enough details and even managing to talk the rookie into take a couple of photos for her in exchange for dinner.

Oh "Sure" she said "no problem" she said. Maybe she could drop the "I'm seeing someone else, sorry" line on him AFTER he brought the camera back. God sometimes men, uniformed or other, were just so easy. Looking down at her half open shirt, Faith adjusted the collar a bit so that the edges of the shirt didn't fall open TOO much. "Good job girls. Now perk up he's coming back...ugh great he looks like he's going to be ill. That better be some good photos."

Kota · Death's Handmaiden

Crime scenes always had a way of turning in to a media circus. Flash bulbs and TV cameras microphones being held out over the crime scene tape and questions filling the air so jumbled it was hard to make out where one started and another one ended. Kota was carefully hanging on every word Ash said. going over the details of the scene in her head so that she did not fuck up on the job in ways she had fucked up with the pack.

"Go check in with the techs down by the booth where the call was made. Get me a print, a hair a fiber, anything. I know the operator will have a voice recording, I want copies of it delivered to the station before we even get back."

She damn near tripped on her own feet when he told her to go down and check the booth before going in and looking over the actually crime scene. Body or not she was not used to this at all and could very well of had some insite on to what was seen in there. She was more then just a necromancer, she was a cop and while her gifts sometimes gave her an advantage when it came to her job, She was a damn fine cop and did not use her abilities as a crush to solve every case.

"As.... Marshall ...."

She stopped herself before she even finished the comment or protesting. Just nodded.

"Yes Sir"

She was being to touchy. It was not a slight against her she was sure. Just an unexpected order that stuck her funny. When thinking about it he wanted to make sure there were no fuck ups, and that if there was any thing left behind to help them. As always when she was working Kota was dressed to the 9's. She spent more on her suits then most people spent on car payments.

Small slender sensual form was not hidden in bulky over sized clothing. no pants hiked up so high she looked cut in half and no blazers that went to her knees. Sleek line black pin striped slacks with a matching jacket over a lovely violet colored blouse showing just a hint of the supple swell of her breasts. Hair pulled back in to an artistic twist keeping the lush full main of reddish chestnut off her collar save for a few spiral curled ringlets that dangeled across her shoulders.

It looked like a tool kit, the case she carried in her hand. You could call it that. As a detective she did not need it, was normally just a CSI thing, but Kota has become accustom to colleting he own evidence and spent an extra year in collage just to have the certifications in order to do so on the job. Techs huddles around the booth. Another Kit lay open on the ground and someone was busy dusting off the outer metal casing around the phone.

"I'll take it from here boys, I want the walk way scoured, I want every thing. Cigaret butts, pop-cycle sticks, chewed gum, candy wrappers , Bag it tag it and send it to the lab for possessing. "

Few of the techs looked pissed, still not used to her coming in and taking over things. She was under orders and was not going to have any arguments between departments. A flash of her badge ended all arguments before they started so she could get right to work. Finger printdust and the find horse hair brush came first. Trick was when your dusting for prints do not sweeping the brush in a side to side motion. Spin it. twist it back and forth between you fingers so you do not ruin any prints that may have been left behind. And never! Never hue a heavy hand. The damn phone was covered in prints, Each one was taken off the phone with a trip of clear evidence tape and pressed against a white back ground very carefully.

She felt someone watching her, call it a sixth sense but it always made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Violet eyes stood out even more, shifting shades of violet brought out by the color of her blouse so they held a chilling haunting quality. Making eye contact only for a moment, wishing she could say she was sorry one more time and have him truly believe it. Having him disappointed in her hurt in ways she had not felt since she was 9 years old and her father sent her away to boarding school.

She had a few prints, Some partials, and a handfull of full prints... and one that had to be from the killer. Build up of prints did happen. When one after another had pressed against the same spot. Good thing about bored people on the phone. they have a tendency to play with the buttons. Rubbing them off till the finish their conversation. And who used payphones these days? Every one used Cell phones leaving this thing damn near pristine. From the number pad she got two partials and the receiver a full thumb print.

It was when she was gathering the prints she saw the strain of hair that was cause between the reciver body and cap. Happened a lot on Payphones. No telling who it came from but she could hope it gave them something to go on. It was slipped in to the small clear evidence bag and she finished her work up swabbing the phone for DNA. She wanted a look at the crime scene itself.

Ash was there. Standing only a few feet away seeking her full attention. Kota gave it, with out hesitation. He did not sound happy, hearing that tone, the distant thunder in his voice made her wonder who has pissed him off... She got her answer when he addressed her. It would never change. Department against department all looking for a moment to shine. All thinking they were better then the other. Would be nice if the ignorance and stupidity could be put aside. They were all on the same side.

"I need to go down to the M.E.s office and check in with Cypress and Sphinx. Homicide sent the bag packing before we were even called in," There was a slight edge of a growl to his voice there at the end but he suppressed it as best as he could. "After you finish up here can you go check something for me?"

"Of course Ash. What do you need me to do?"

"The store is called Thirteen Moons. There was one in Salem. They are supposed to have some very competent staff that might know more and be able to come out and take a look at the site after all this dies down some. That number's for one of Milos rats, Tommy. I don't know the girl who owns the store, but I'm pretty sure the two of them are together so he should be able to help if there's no one at the store when you go by."

"Ah, I know Tommy. I remember him from Salem. Sweet kid. I'll get right on it, We got some prints, and a hair from the phone. Sending it over to the lab right now then I will head over to The Thirteen Moons."

There eyes held for just a second. She gave him a bit of a smile, nothing flashy, and it never formed on her lips. Just a glimmer of something in her violet eyes that said she completely understood. They went parted ways, leaving Kota watching his back for a moment till the flash of some stupid news paper camera flashed out of the corner of her eye.

"Keep them behind the line!"

Was about another 30 minutes on scene making sure they did not miss any thing. Evidence Bag safely placed with in her kit. She wanted a look at the crime scene before she left Was not something she wanted to see, but had to. Flashing her badge to any one who stood in her way. She was not stepping on toes, RPIT was called in on this and Kota hated when she could not see a scene with her own eyes. Photos were great but they did not have the feel of the actual location itself. She did not so much as pay any attention to Gibson when she stepped inside.

She could taste the death on the air. Feel it creeping in under her skin that rancid smell still lingered along with something else she could not... like rotten eggs. Sulfur. Homicide KNEW this was not something normal! Just the look of the markings on the ground and the body found! Was all some stupid cock fight and right now she so wanted to deck Gibson that her finger nails were digging in to the palm of her hand. She had to get out of there. Leave the scene to the rest of the RPIT team and get on top of what Ash asked her to handle.

"Gibson. You and your team can go now. We have this well in hand. I will be sure to say hello to the Police Commissioner for you. We T off at 9am tomorrow morning. Yes this is going to make for some wonderful conversation."

Was it true... who knows. She had other work to do.

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Was on to the Thirteen Moons once she had swung by the CSI lab and dropped off her package. This was turning in to a long day and she could feel her stomach starting to ache and demand she get something solid in to her system soon. It could wait, maybe grab some fruit and a bagel, Cup of Java to wash it down with. Coffee sounded wonderful right now with the hours winding down. She was on her cell walking to her truck leaving the station. Call being made to Tommy, the shy Rat she had met down at the Cauldron a few times back in Salem. It was ringing away when she slid behind the wheel, turning over the ignition backing out of her parking spot.

"Hi Tommy?"

-- Edited by Kota at 02:49, 2008-05-10

Blaise Harmon · Fiery Female

(totally cock-blocking Tom haha)

-Blaise had been delving into some of the blacker arts, doing research and trying to figure out how a person even managed to get encased in a Jade statue let alone how to get that person out. It was an interesting predicament. She and Wendy had been having alot of fun with trying to figure it out. Jade was a precious gem though which really had more to do with Earth than water or fire. Blaise was just hoping to find some Hephestian ritual that might help, fire as a forger, as a purifier. It might work. The phone rang and she regretfully took her nose out of the book to walk behind the counter and answer it. Fingers worked the back of her star ruby earring to take it off before pressing the phone to her ear.-

"Thirteen Moons."

-The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, but she knew who they were looking for.-

"Tommy is out right now. This is Blaise. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Kota · Death's Handmaiden

When the voice picked up she was disappointed that it was not the sweet young man she had met back in Salem. But there was always room for new people. She was just going to have to get hold of him latter. But she was still heading to the shop with a few snapped photos of the crime scene. Those that were the lest bloody. Just the runes that had been used. Kota knew runic, could read it and write in front wards, backwards. upside down and side ways. Five different language of it in fact but that did not make her an expert.

Runes were complicated things. Gallic runes, often called Pagan runic, Greek, Phoenician, malachim, theban and even Fae had their own and Alchamic. She knew five out of the six above and was researching fae in the free time. That was a complicated alphabet. But every run had a meaning and if she could find out what these meant then she could put more meaning behind the fragments of dead body that had been found at the crime scene.

"'ello" Strong Irish accent was not hard to miss when it came to Kota.

"This is Detective Macrs with the HPD, Regional Preternatural Investigation. Would Sere happen to be in? Or someone that could take a look at some photos for me?"

She was not going to get to in depth on what was in the photos. Was just a few things... If they could give some in site, then latter that night they would be taking a look at the actual things.