Fugue State

a state or period of loss of awareness of one's identity

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 Seek And Ye Shall Find, @Sarah // Alexander
May 3 2017, 08:08 PM
29 Witch Manager @ Lizandria's Oddities
My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.
Lucidum Coven
Luv sick pup~


she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Alexander would sit and watch as Declan drew his diagram, trying to make make heads or tails of any of this wasn't an easy feat for the cop so what Zand thought he'd make of it, he wasn't sure. Still, he thought it over as bubbles and names were scribbled against the paper, their lines offering clues. Leaned on the desk he'd set his chin in a palm as the other set of fingers tapped along its surface quietly. Thoughtfully. "I talked to Nic," his tone was thoughtful before he realized maybe he shouldn't have spoken of an ongoing case with a civilian.. though he was also a civilian.. still, his expression turning a bit sheepish. "Not about anything... ya'know, confidential. But he works for Ubisoft, ya'know so I figured he'd likely know a thing or two about Ted's business... seeing as it's all well-to-do and what not. He'd never heard of it," that in and of itself had struck Zander as odd, how did someone as entrenched in the tech world as Nic, not know what this business of Ted's was? "He did say that most of those people have like, tiny little strip-mall business fronts, even if they don't have their computers there -- apparently most of them don't -- but they have some other way to contact them beyond their home address,"

He'd hum thoughtfully as fingers tapped gently along his cheek.

"I'd suspect Sylvia knows something. A woman who's house was as clean as hers? I doubt she doesn't know where every piece of her silverware is at any given moment." So surely she'd know what went on in her backyard. She had to have seen something, there was no way, in Zand's mind, that she had no clue what went on in her own backyard.

His two cents offered he'd continue his pondering as Declan's voice filtered back in with an offering of owed price to be set. Eyes widening slightly, their sea-green depths would shift to peer at the other witch a moment. "Oh. Well... really, it's no trouble at all. I really... I mean, I'd just be happy knowing there wasn't a face wearing monster roaming the streets, ya'know?" He sounded a bit put off by the fact that there was currently one of these at large on the in the greater San Fran area. Was certainly not his cup of tea if you will. As if potentially sitting on ghosts wasn't a big enough reason to fear where your feet took you, that seemed an even larger issue, one different altogether. Drifting off a bit he'd return with a sharp and crisp nod. "Yeah, will do," his chuckle is soft as he smiled a lopsided beaming thing at the other witch. "I'd really rather not have you show up on my doorstep all gnashing teeth, either," and wasn't that the truth of the matter.

His evening would be spent on Nic's couch, watching movies and chatting about the weather while he combed over the borrowed book, looking for anything and everything that they could use in order to find and or defend themselves against a wendigo if needed. Or. Well. Declan could. Alexander had no want to be there when and if they found a clue enough to track the thing down in actuality.

The following day he'd wake early as was typical for the ginger though the text from Declan wasn't expected and swung him into gear as quickly as the few scant gulps of coffee in his system would allow of him anyway. Filling an insulated travel mug with what was left, he'd rush himself out the door of his apartment building, arms tugged into his coat on his way to the car parked at the curb. Book tucked under his arm, just in case, he'd slide into the car like this were some regular occurrence, as if the old woman living across from him in 3C wasn't staring out her window at him like he was someone she'd apparently never known in her life. Lived across from for years but surely he was stranger for all this odd and sudden slipping into police cars.

"Morning," his voice was graveled a bit as he slid the belt across himself, book in his lap. "Ready for wendigo 101?" Easy his voice was quiet and a bit less cheerful than it normally would have been, he'd blame the lack of coffee, which he'd move to gulp heartily as Declan answered in the affirmative.

"The older they are the more unstable and emaciated they are. Apparently they're not really a species so much as... a form of extended animation? They're made when a fae dies, like dead dead, and then are brought back to life with some ritual. It... I guess just slows the rotting? But they never live very long after the fact, it's not a permanent solution to death. Their hunger grows as they age and usually by century five to seven, they're deemed menace and... put down by someone close to them."

It all seemed odd and uncouth to the ginger.

"Unfortunately," and he'd frown here as they slid through the city, his eyes wandering the streets as if looking for one of these fabled creatures. "They're not easy to kill. They don't have iron weakness like most fae, and they're fast and strong, can also use compulsion, like vampires. They also... whither the earth around them. Its said that most of the time you can tell where they live by this, at least in spring and summer, as their yards will always look... well, dead. Luckily though. They have a weakness against magic. I read this other book about witch fables that involved witches being involved in their hunting, like way back in the day. So... I mean, at least we have that going for us."

It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.

user posted image
May 9 2017, 03:52 PM


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Declan had known a fae or two in his life. In Ireland, the bastards are practically worshipped by many, though in Declan’s personal experience, he wasn’t overly fond of them as a rule. He had nothing against them, per se, just generally preferred to keep their circles from ever intersecting if he could help it. That line of thought seemed confirmed by the notion that after they die, then the real fun can begin.

“What, like some…Weekend at Bernie’s thing? A fae dies, and someone somewhere decides ‘you know what would be fun? Takin the corpse of this here fellah and turning it into a face-stealing eating machine. Yeah, that’d be a right good time.” Declan’s tone walked the line between incredulous and irritated, especially given the fact that now it seemed like they could be up against something that was damned hard to eradicate. He truly had no current notion of how to proceed with this information. Well, that weren’t exactly true. He would keep going, head long, of course, but he suddenly felt less enthused about it.

“Magic.” Declan mused aloud at the potential Achilles heel Mads mentioned. “Like…binding magic, maybe? Something a bit more destructive? Well, answer me this. Is there anything in that lore that…I mean, let’s say we were able to capture, trap, whatever, and then tuck him away in a cell somewhere. Any particular reason why we would worry about that cell not holding strong?” Declan was used to dealing with things that weren’t killed in traditional ways. Vampires, shifters and the like. But you could still lock them away in a cement bunker and there wasn’t a lot they could do about it. The one good thing about the general public being aware of the existence of supernatural beings was that most branches of law enforcement were basically equipped to deal with their more ‘special needs’ individuals. SFPD had a supply of honest-to-God silver bullets, in point of fact. Iron, salt, even crucifixes. The only ones who poo-poo’d the notion of such things were those who had not yet had cause to rely upon them.

And then, of course, he also had to mentally deal with the nugget of information that Ted was not known within his own declared circle. Granted, it was admittedly possible that the two had simply never crossed paths, but the world wasn’t that big a place, so, now the idea had to enter the ring that Ted’s entire career was bollocks. The tough part was finding that starting point. Which of these leads would be the thread that the others wound themselves around? Mrs. Rainey and her obliviousness to obvious things? Ted’s potentially made-up career? So where was his money really coming from? Was he even still alive? That kept jumping out of the pack with the ‘pick me! Pick me!’ hand raised. Find Ted. That would be the start. No hits on the missing person’s description, yet, but these things took time. That wasn’t a dead end yet.

“Oh, right.” Declan said, recalling a particular detail. He reached behind him into the back seat and pulled up one of those small brown paper bags with the twin firm paper handles, containing a small mixture of muffins: Lemon Poppyseed, Cranberry Orange, and Blueberry, and their supposedly healthier cousin Bran. “Breakfast.”

“Go for the blueberry! I would kill for a blueberry muffin, man.” That was the voice of Kurt who appeared suddenly in the backseat, in all of his dead hippie glory, from the long hair and bellbottoms to the round spectacles that John Lennon made famous. Of course, one of the lenses was cracked from the accident that had brought about Kurt’s demise, but he didn’t seem to mind so much.

“Oh, right. Uh…” Declan flinched a little, forgetting that the spirit realm was not Mads’ favorite thing in the world to have jump out at him. “Sorry, yeah? That’s Kurt. He’s one of my more regular irregulars, and wanted in on this one. Kurt, this is Mads. Uh, Alexander Maddox. He’s the fellah I mentioned what could read where a thing has been by touching it.”

“That’s pretty cool, man. So, like, if you were to like get a hold of some lady’s vibrato…” Kurt was saying with a grin.

“Pretty sure he’s got better uses, yeah? Knock it off.” Declan said with a hint of sternness behind the words, though couldn’t completely hide his amusement.

“Sorry, man. Been dead for a while, you know? I take what thrills I can.” Kurt said, sitting back into the seat from where he had been leaning forward to better see the two witches in front.

“You get used to it.” Declan said a little apologetically to Mads as they made their way back across town to Dublin, back to the suburban paradise which, like the Hollywood clichés, was apparently hiding a rather dark secret. While Declan knew that was absolute tripe, bad things happened everywhere, he had to admit that he was viewing the well-manicured lawns under a different filter at the moment. As they neared the Rainey residence, Declan’s gaze scanned around, doing a slight double-take as they moved past the small three or four-acre copse of trees that bordered the neighborhood. He brought the car to a stop, his head turned to look to the trees.

“Say, Mads. What was it you were saying about dead plants?” Declan asked, pointing towards the trees. The outer trees seemed alright, but beyond them, the grass, trees, and shrubs were showing definite signs of brown. “What are you willing to wager that somewhere back in there…” Declan let that thought trail off. Today was not the day to go and confront the face eating big bad, especially if they could in fact do some sort of mind mojo. “Oh, and look. The trees run right up to the Rainey’s back wall. Remarkable coincidence, that.” Granted, he still considered Ted to be a manky shit, but he was beginning to have a similar opinion of Sylvia. There truly was no way she could be unaware of things. Her only saving grace would be if she were somehow being coerced under threat or some such, but even then, his forgiveness would be limited. At least the picture was growing a bit clearer, despite Declan not much caring for what the finished product was shaping up to look like. A rotten answer was still an answer.

“There’s Hector.” Declan said, nodding up ahead as he put the car in park and stepped out, shouldering his satchel. “Kurt, feel like taking a little nature walk?”

“Right on, man. You guys be careful. This place has bad vibes, man.” Kurt said as he faded from view in the direction of the trees.

“Morning, Hector. Anyone about?” Declan asked the expired gardener.

“No, she left a little while ago. Place seems empty.” He replied, his gaze shifted towards where Kurt had headed into the trees, Hector looking rather uncomfortable.

“He’ll be alright. Can’t get killed twice.” Well, technically one could, but no need to get into that now. “Good, though. Was hoping it’d be empty.” Declan said, looking towards Mads. “Nice thing about a proper warrant, nobody has to be home for me to execute it.” He said with a wink as he then headed towards the Rainey house, making his way towards the back. The gate wasn’t locked, so no fence hopping was needed. This day was starting out ok, after all. Declan removed the satchel, laying it on the ground, reaching within to remove a pair of latex gloves, slipping them onto his hands. “Right then. Let’s see what we can see. I know this whole thing has been asking a lot, you don’t have to come in if you would rather hang about out here.”

Declan’s first order of business was to circumnavigate the pool, lifting the cover over each filter spot, kneeling down to examine the contents within. Plenty of standard flotsam; leaves, twigs, feathers and the like. One down. The third filter he checked yielded a bit more interesting results, unless it wasn’t unusual for some people to have what appeared to be bone fragments floating in their pool. Declan withdrew the pieces he could find, laying them beside the pool, lifting up to get an evidence bag from his satchel, though paused and looked over towards Mads.

“Redser, if you touched, say, a piece of bone, would you be able to tell if it were one or the other known parties, or a possible unknown?” Declan asked as he placed the shards within the evidence bag, carrying them over towards his satchel before resuming his search. “Justice can take a gruesome path at times, yeah?”

He knelt down at the next filter, hope renewed a bit from the potential new evidence, when suddenly he heard Kurt’s voice from over the wall, glancing upwards in time to see the spirit pass through into the pool area.

“You gotta see this, man. It’s…you gotta see this.” The spirit said, oddly a little breathlessly. Fun fact: ghosts don’t breathe, but, Declan had seen enough to know that emotions and old habits die hard. Kurt had apparently seen something that had disturbed the expired peacenik. Given the man’s intimate familiarity with the Manson family, that was saying something.

“Keep it down, yeah? Neighbors, me mucker.” Declan gently berated Kurt as he lifted to his feet, an unspoken question cast towards Mads, a queried brow as Declan made his way to the gate then around towards the trees. Kurt had already made his way back to wherever the ‘this’ was, and as Declan followed, it pleased him that one theory had been correct: the further in he went, the worse the plant life appeared. The first thing he saw was one of those two-room tents set up by what appeared to be a small cook fire. At first glance it appeared to be just a normal camping spot, which Declan’s first thought would be a simple squatter, or neighborhood kids having a hangout. He wasn’t quite sure what had alarmed Kurt so much, unless the man had some sort of camping phobia. But then he looked closer to what he had thought was a pile of rocks and dead leaves.

Bones. All sorts, all sizes. Based upon their various sizes, Declan assumed there were cats, dogs, squirrels, maybe fox, what appeared to be possibly a cow, a deer or two, and was that a bear? And, of course, human.

“Jaysus” Declan exclaimed quietly, his gaze riveted to the pile as he did some mental inventory. “Well…” he said with a slow sigh. “…seems we have found some sort of lair. Don’t guess I was expecting some rotting mansion high on a hill or secret underground bunker. A volcano would have been nice.”

The first question that came to mind was wondering how long this had been happening? Was the entire neighborhood being held under sway? Pets, animals, people gone missing and nobody had a clue? Not a single report filed?

“What in the actual fuck have we stumbled into here?” Declan exclaimed aloud as he nudged at the pile of bones with a foot. He was about to remove his phone and call for a forensics team when he heard two things nearly at once: Hector saying ‘they’re home!’ and the unmistakable click of a hammer being drawn back on a revolver. “I have a warrant.” Declan said quietly as both hands lifted in the air, turning to see whomever had arrived, though he had a suspicion.

“You’ve stumbled into deep waters, Inspector.”
Said Sylvia, the still perfectly coiffed housewife appearance in place, with the added touch of a .45 in her hand. “Quite frankly, I am not sure what to do here. One of the rules is ‘no police’, but, rules are made to be broken, and, well, you’ve put us in quite the awkward position.” Beside her stood what Declan had to assume was the Wendigo, and the face was equally assumed to be Greg. Or was it actually Ted? Whichever, Declan simply decided on 'Bernie'. It didn’t seem the time to ask. “I guess we need to talk. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Today was turning out so well, too. And I should say the same to you. Killing me would be more stupid than you know.” Said Declan with another sigh, really hoping that were true.
May 13 2017, 06:05 PM
29 Witch Manager @ Lizandria's Oddities
My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.
Lucidum Coven
Luv sick pup~


she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Alexander hadn't dealt with a lot of fae in his life but the few he had hadn't been that bad overall, not in comparison to this one anyway. Some part of him, the soft and malleable part would cringe lightly as the old movie Weekend at Bernie's is brought up, while it should have been a laughable offense it was something that worried him all the more if he were being honest. Disgusted on some whole new level he'd not even been aware one could be disgusted over. Though as the idea of magic was brought up his attention would simmer and calm itself into a thought process that wasn't propping up a dead fae and toting it around a beach house for a weekend. ”There honestly wasn't a lot, but I'd assume binding would work, could trap it in a sticky ward maybe?” His face would grow a bit sour as Declan continued this questioning and while he wanted nothing more than to help he wasn't so sure if he knew answers enough to actually do so. ”I don't think so? I mean they're strong and all but... I mean, maybe it's barbaric... but I'd assume if you just, fed them lightly, it'd be enough to weaken and contain them long term,” it sounded barbaric and he'd cringe outright as he said it. ”Though, in reality, they're still counted in the fae courts from what I could find, so we'd... you'd, likely not have much to do with it anyway,” such was the leeway offered to the other species, tried by their own and such. He was sure, though his knowledge on the subject had been learned in the last week, that the mortal world would hold some sway even in this but it looked to be largely up to the fae court to decide their own fates.

The mention of food and the moving of a paper bag was a needed distraction for a brain that didn't do this on a daily basis. Though it'd been nice to get out and stretch his legs a bit his mind had been terribly exhausted the last few days and not at all due to his power for a change. Like an ordinary person taking up running without buying the proper equipment and just running for two days straight. Untested and untried and his everything was sore and aching as he set his coffee canister in a cup holder and reached for a muffin--

Sweet Mary and Joseph,”

The whole of him would suddenly attempt to crawl from his skin as a voice from the backseat sounded and the semi-transparent figure sat there in his peripherals. A hand clutched to his chest and he'd melt a bit into the seat as his heart threatened to lurch from his chest. A tentative wave is offered to the man as he swivels around a bit to glance at the man in his weird and yet very authentic Halloween looking hippie garb. Returning himself forward he'd snag a muffin, went blueberry as if to quell the man in the back seat before he started in on things he ought to touch. Zander's eyes widen as he sinks a bit into his seat.

Zander's unease would step back a bit as they rode back to the eerie neighborhood they'd only just left some days before, it was all so familiar and well manicured, creepy in its own right and while it shouldn't be, Zander was fairly sure he'd forever steer clear of houses in well maintained neighborhoods as his primary residence. hard pass.

His gaze would filter off into the trees as Declan gestured, his words were mumbled around the last half-mouthful of muffin. ”Wither stuff,” a swallow and he'd wash his mouth with the last of his coffee before clearing his throat. A brow would rise in as he glanced to the back of yard, the pool deceptively pristine in a manner that shuddered his spine and frowned him. He hoped, and he'd mutter it lowly and mostly to himself as he peered out the window--

”I really hope we're not planning on going back there,”

The trio would pile out of the car, Zand sticking clear of the hippie ghost-- Kurt, as they stood a few feet apart on the sidewalk, he'd slide himself off towards the trees and the ginger would take a long slow winding breath, relief if ever there was a flavor of such a thing. Thank god. Better the already dead guy than the two living, maybe just as barbaric a thought as his earlier one but he still found it better. A little lesser as Kurt strode off and left them with a note about vibes. Great.

Feet following behind the other witch they'd slide up the sidewalk to another ghost (just his luck) though this one seemed indisposed with being unseen, so that was at least nice -ish. If nothing else, this whole adventure was teaching him a lot about police work and the in's and out's of things most people simply took for granted. ”That's handy,” he'd no idea over how a warrant worked but it was nice to know not everything the police did was bogged down in red tape. When faced with a decision he'd stand and balk a little, peering into the backyard with a quirk of his brow.

In or out.

”Uh... no, it's alright I'll go with.”

The prospect of hanging out with the dead gardener didn't sit any better with him than traipsing around in a back yard full of potential murder clues.

Six in one half dozen in the other.

Sliding in after the ginger witch would fidget with the bracelet on his wrist, habit more than anything as as Declan worked on the pool filters. His feet would wander, poking his head round the areas that contained tools and the like, looking for obvious things that didn't require him to touch anything iffy. Everything looked more or less clean, normal wear and tear on all the gardening tools, like everything in and around this house their backyard was pristine and well organized and not a single speck of blood that the eye could see. A soft hum would purse from his throat as he was addressed, a foot nudging open the door to a small out building, shed by the looks of it, though its insides were dark and full of boxes and things that he'd rather not touch if he could help it. Turning his face would fall a little as he glanced to the bone fragments in the bag he held. ”Yeah, maybe?”

He didn't seem enthused over this but it was all for a good cause.

”I can--” his voice would falter as Kurt walked through the back wall of the yard, insistent upon pulling the pair – or at least Declan-- back and away from the pool. Alexander had exactly zero want to follow, not because of Kurt at all but rather... murder woods were incredibly unappealing to the other witch. Standing there a bit awkwardly he'd shift himself a little. ”I'll... uh... just be here. See if I can get anything from these bones,” his expression paled a bit as he wandered the woods with his eyes and then plucked the evidence bag from the pile of things. The likelihood of anything lasting on the chlorine bleached bones was low, maybe some DNA in what was left of their marrow.

Ghost and Declan had wandering off to the murder woods and Zand would sit himself against the far side of the porch, leaned against the railing as he suspected this would be a right doozy. Slipping off his bracelet he'd pick a smaller fragment, one that looked unidentifiable as much more than basal 'bone'. A sigh and he'd test his theory, shaking it from the bag to rest in the palm of his hand. Bone, it turned out, was a lot like hair, in that it was all a bit odd and offered little in the way of help. Just odd flashes and feelings whereas most offered clear pictures, like movie reels in a sense.

He couldn't be sure how long he'd been out though there was movement at the edge of his vision, enough that he'd tuck himself into a ball, shadowed by the corner of the house and going unnoticed in the grand scheme of things. Thankfully it seemed the man with a gun was the object of their attention.

Everything that happened next was a blur.

The ghost appearing, he could only assume it was the fabled hector as he moved to herd Zander to the gardening tools in a hushed voice directed him to the metal rake... and a shovel. Well he couldn't carry both. Opted for the shovel before he was shooed on again and towards the woods. When he peeked around the corner he'd suck himself back with a firm shake of his head. No way. It was hector that garnered their attention next, keeping them distracted or so Zand would assume anyway as he gathered his whits and slid out from behind the wall. The swing was broad and shook him to the core of himself as the back of the shovel collided with the back of the fae's head, its long handle snagging Sylvia along the way to shove her forward in an unexpected fright that would hopefully dislodge the gun from her hand without discharging it as she stumbled forward to catch herself against the ground.

There was guilt and fear written across his face as he stood there in the aftershock of it all, shovel in hand and staring at the crumpled (what he'd assume was) wendigo. Gaze flickering up he'd catch sight of bones... all manner of them. Wide-eyed and in shock there was little he could do as everything spun and his knees buckled and the world went black.

It was fine though, there was nothing embarrassing about grown men fainting.

user posted image
May 28 2017, 08:09 PM


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Declan’s first concern was wondering who would take care of his dog if he got eaten. He should make some sort of arrangement if he got out of this. His second concern was Mads. He had dragged the witch around on this case mostly because his abilities had been a sight useful. Plenty of breaks in this case would have gone undiscovered for months, if found at all, if not for the divination thing. Wait, was it divination if one saw the past rather than the future? Well, whichever, it had been useful. But he had also enjoyed the witch’s company. Mads had always made Declan feel welcome back when he had first moved to San Francisco and sought out the local coven, and that had meant a lot. And while nearly constantly surrounded by his communicative spirits, Declan tended to not seek out the companionship of many living beings. The point of all this was he felt bad for dragging Mads to what could possibly be the witch’s death. Declan wasn’t afraid of dying, but he deplored the idea of causing the death of the undeserved.

While these thoughts were flashing within his brain, his gaze caught the sight of movement from the rear and the side. He didn’t wish to betray whatever it was by glancing in that direction and tipping off the two before him, but he knew he should at least stall things as best he can, and thankfully, at least one of the two didn’t seem to immediately wish to kill him. Declan could work with that.

“Look.” Declan said, keeping his gaze mostly upon Sylvia. “I can help you, yeah? But help me first. Help me figure out just what happened here. I mean…there be a lot of dead things here. How has it gone unnoticed?”

“Who said it was unnoticed?” Sylvia laughed with a tone of incredulity. “I’ve seen you poking around the neighborhood, but I guess you didn’t poke deep enough. Maybe somebody would have talked, but I doubt it. Fear is a powerful thing, Inspector. And I am sure you are well aware that not all deaths are unwanted.”

“Stop the lights…” said Declan, his brow furrowed though his hands remained upright as the gun had not been lowered. “…so…what, you’ve got some sort of murder-for-hire program going here?” Jaysus, Declan really hated suburbia.

“Some.” Sylvia said with a shrug. “It’s easier. Most people like it better than the monthly lottery system. But the lottery is still preferable to declaring open season. ” This statement made Bernie giggle a little, and caused Declan to wonder which was creepier. Betty Crocker-Manson, or the giggling Jeffrey Dahmer.

“So, you lot have kept an entire neighborhood living in fear just to keep this one fed? For fucksake why?” Declan kept peripherally tracking movement while he conversed, though frankly it had gone a bit beyond stalling and had entered the realm of interest. Macabre interest, to be certain, but Declan always did like to know why people did the bad things they did, even though there wasn’t always a ‘why’ beyond ‘because I felt like it’.

“Not as complicated as you might think. To keep my Ted around. Her killing Ted was because of his brother’s stupid mistake. Happenstance. Greg has since paid for that, and I have since learned that half of the time, Ted wasn’t even really Ted, but that is another matter. But when I figured out that she could keep Ted’s face, well…things just evolved from there.” Sylvia looked over at the Ted-faced thing more fondly than Declan felt anyone should look at someone who ate people as she said this.

“She really did love him, man. That’s kind of beautiful in a pretty fucked up way, considering he was an asshole.” Kurt said, nearly causing Declan to speak to his unseen companion aloud, though Declan read it off of her right enough; Love, even adoration. Fucked up, indeed.

“So, what now?” Declan asked, then coughed to cover up the sound of approaching footsteps. Whatever was about to happen, it was going to happen soon.

“Well, that is a good question. You officially know too much, and you don’t particularly strike me as a man who is willing to play ball, so to speak. I can’t just let you walk away, but, for what it’s worth, I do like you. Maybe it’s the accent. So, it will be quick.” Sylvia lifted the gun a little higher as she stepped closer, Ted/Greg/Bernie Dahmer looking a bit too expectant for Declan’s liking.

“Wait, wait. Just one more thing, yeah?” Declan said, his hands remained held upwards, fighting the urge to not hold his ground.

“Ok, what?” Sylvia asked, sounding a little impatient.

“Uh…” Declan began, though before he could even come up with a good excuse, the small camp site was filled with a dull gong sound, followed by a wooden thwack, and then things went quickly. Declan scarcely had a second to drink in the sight of Mads standing over Bernie with a shovel before he dove forward to stop Sylvia who was already recovering from the unexpected blow. Declan went low, the gun discharging over his head close enough for him to feel the breeze from the bullet, both arms wrapped around her legs, taking her down as he then rolled atop her, the gun removed from her grip and tossed aside.

“Mads, keep…” Declan began, though quickly noted his unconscious friend. For a brief moment, he worried that the off-target bullet had laid claim to Mads, though he quickly deduced that the angle was far too banjaxed, there was no blood that he could see, and that Mads was breathing. “…right. Sorry, mucker.” Declan said to his passed out coven-mate. He was relieved by the fact that nobody had been shot, though he was not going to count on the shovel keeping that thing down for long. Declan slid his pair of cuffs from his back pocket as he rolled Sylvia to her stomach, securing her arms behind her back, clicking the cuffs into place around her wrists. “Don’t move, yeah?” Declan said as he pushed up off of her, going to investigate the TedGregBernieDahmer thing.

The first thing he noticed was that Ted’s face was gone, and in its place was what was likely at one point a rather pretty girl’s face. The second thing he noticed was her eyes, which were now open and looking at him. The third thing he noticed was a hand suddenly grasping his ankle and jerking his leg.

“Fecking Doxie!” Declan shouted as he found himself dropped to the ground, he rolled to his back to sit up as he drew out his Glock, quickly sweeping the glade, both hands gripped his gun before him. “Where in the hell…” Declan asked slowly, rising to his feet to turn in a full circle, gun still at the ready.

“You won’t catch her. She’s too fast.” Sylvia said with a bit more glee than Declan liked.

“Dry your arse and tell me where she’s off to.” Declan said, still turning in a slow circle, not trusting that this was an escape. Sylvia’s only answer was a shrug and a humorless laugh. “Fine, then. Far wack of the world won’t be far enough.”

“Keep an eye on the fellah here, yeah?” Declan said to Kurt, or Hector, or both as he lifted Sylvia to her feet a bit less gently than he possibly should have but he was a bit perturbed at the moment.

“Who are you talking to?” Sylvia asked, still enjoying this a bit more than she should be.

“Shut it.” Declan answered as he took Sylvia to the car and locked her in the back seat, gaze still sweeping for any potential rescue attempt from what could be several faces. Maybe she would be stupid enough to come at them as Ted, or the girl’s face he had seen just now, but he doubted it. Coming back to where Mads was coming to, Declan squatted down and looked over the man.

“None the worse for wear, yeah? Brilliant job back there, mucker.” Declan helped the man to his feet, pausing to look around the clearing as he finally got around to calling for a couple of black and whites and a forensics team. “So many questions still.” Declan said with a sigh as he studied the pile of bones. “Guess we will see how chatty she is when she’s down at headquarters without a gun in her hand. Lots to answer for. The uh…other one got away. Still out there.”

Declan had mixed emotions at the moment. What turned out to be the primary perpetrator was on the lam; though Sylvia would be implicated in a hell of a lot, if he could get the neighborhood talking. So that was a decent thing, at least. But he was irritated that there was a man eating thing running loose at the moment. At least now he had an idea of what he was up against, so that was hopeful. Up, down, up, down. Victories taken where victory could be found, right enough.

“So, grab a bite once we’re wrapped up here? Nearly famished, now that I’ve calmed a bit.” People had begun to emerge from their homes, Declan could see a few here and there through the trees, huddled in their yards, speaking quietly, an occasional finger pointed their way. Declan found himself wondering whether he had freed the neighborhood from this terror, or doomed them by removing any checks and balances that might have been at play. ‘Open season’, he believed Sylvia had said.

Once the police arrived, Declan filled them in with the basics, leaving out the nature of the perpetrator for now. He didn’t need to deal with anyone having questions he couldn’t yet answer. The forensics team started cataloging the plethora of evidence at the campsite, and Sylvia was placed in a squad car to be taken to the station and processed. Declan would question her eventually. For the moment he felt like letting her stew in a cell for a while. His greater concern, at least personally, was that a wendigo, of which Declan had no knowledge of their existence until all of this, was loose in the city. That was one huge loose end, and he didn’t much care for it.

“Guess there’s some homework to be done regarding magic and abilities. And I know less than shack jit about that fae court you were speaking of. Should we…get them involved in this? And if so, well, how?” Just once, Declan would like for things to be like in the movies. Everything wrapped up nice and neat. Well, unless there was a planned sequel. If that were the case, Declan felt like the credits were now rolling on part one. And if there were a post credit scene, it would be something like the car driving away while under the watchful hidden gaze of Ted Greg Bernie Dahmer the blonde girl. Declan couldn’t help but take one last look at the murder woods before getting behind the wheel, ready to leave this neighborhood behind, at least for today.
Jun 2 2017, 04:44 PM
29 Witch Manager @ Lizandria's Oddities
My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.
Lucidum Coven
Luv sick pup~


she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Coming to in the middle of and area appropriately named 'The Murder Woods' was not Zander's idea of a lovely afternoon spent with a friend. Perhaps something necessary in this moment, one that would flood his mind with memories of the moments that had come before it, things that made him cringe and question how he'd even managed-- and then of course, as his vision flashed itself open to the wide sprawling green of the canopy overhead, it wasn't a view he'd that brought serenity but rather the amused and smiling face of a man that wasn't even really there. Kurt. The finger outstretched in a manner that he'd assume was to poke his cheek was leaned away from, a lean that shifted him in a motion much more skittish and skittering than was normal for a man of his size and age. This movement tickled the good-natured ghost while the Gardner stood some ways off frowning in disagreement over the antics of his fellow dead brethren.

Alone for only a moment or two, after his initial jolt of movement he'd settle and sit there let the whole of the situation wash over him before Declan returned. There was no Sylvia and no Ted-faced wendigo, both of which he couldn't have been more glad over. He felt little worse for wear, his heart still hammering softly and a new found ability to abstain from everything suburban for the rest of his life but he was at least without maiming.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine,"

His soft smile would come with a a quieted heh, as he shifted up off the ground to his feet. Swiping murder woods from himself his nod was quiet and a bit wayward; thoughtful. "I didn't get much from... the pool bones?" This whole case was one weird situation after another. Bone fragments from a pool. A woman killed with a baking tin. An animal thing that wore people's face and then, of course, there was Sylvia. That woman was a whole classification unto herself. Sea-green eyes widen a smidgen as the ginger's attention flickers back over to his coven-mate. The frown that filtered across his face was in no way a thing dependent on Declan but it was a frown nonetheless. "That things... that thing was the stuff of nightmares," and now, unfortunately, it was still lurking around the greater San Fran area.

Suffice it to say, Alexander Maddox would likely not be catching a lot of uninterrupted sleep for a while.

Sliding out of the woods, Zander couldn't rightly have said he'd felt a moment in his life where the whole of him sighed in relief, at least not as plentifully as it did in that moment.

Attention swinging around a bit as he shoved his hands into his pockets, carefully skirting around the murder pool and past the murder house he'd comment wryly-- "Uh, yeah sure, just... let's steer clear of any... ya know, steak houses and the like?" Because so help him, it'd likely be months before he'd be able to eat ribs or anything attached to a bone again. Even now, the thought of it paled his already pale complexion.

The staring neighbors were a bit off putting though in reality, it would come as no real surprise that they were all there and waiting, watching. The suburbs, if the television pegged them right, were all about gossip and this was certainly something to gossip about. Sylvia tucked away in Declan's car, though thankfully she'd be shuffled off to the station in another. Watching her slide off Zander's attention would flicker back to Declan as he spoke of the job not even near completion. Head wavering in a nod. "I'm doing my history thesis on the fae courts," thoughtfully stated as he pondered how much of it would actually be of any help. "It's all... very convoluted, but I'm pretty sure they've got an embassy representative downtown. That's probably the best bet for getting in touch with them. Unless you've got a trustworthy guide to take you there via the realm itself."

His frown would pull itself a little deeper down his face as the climbed into Declan's car.

"That place is about as safe as those murder woods are,"

A soft laugh, though it lacked the jovial nature that it usually did, a forced sort of wistful thing that shifted his eyes to the very same green patch just beyond the perfectly trimmed front hedges that rolled by.

"Sooooo... how do you feel about vegetarian?"

user posted image
Jun 9 2017, 04:25 PM


| | |
“I know just the place.” Declan said affirmatively with a quick wink to Alexander. “Ever tried Shizen, over in the Mission? Vegan sushi.” Declan understood the man’s need, after what they had seen. As for himself, of course, he had passed that point. Now he was fully capable of demolishing a slab of ribs having just witnessed a horridly butchered doxie down at the harbor. But he did understand. Shame, though. Mads would actually make a phenomenal crime scene tech.

Declan knew the place didn’t open until 5:00, so he took the long way back from Dublin, down through San Mateo, which suited him fine because he hated driving through Oakland anyway. He didn’t say much during the drive, as there was, even for him, a lot to process and think about. It was a win, sure. Sylvia was in custody, and hopefully she would talk enough to tie up some of the myriad of questions still unanswered, but it felt empty thanks, of course, to the non-incarcerated Ted-looking cannibal thing.

“I feel that way about most of the fae I run across. Diabolical stuff, from what I’ve seen of them.” Declan said, nearing the outskirts of the city. “No doubt they aren’t all bad, like there be good witches and bad alike, but, Christ I’ve seen some wicked shit that many still think is only in the legends and ghost stories. Makes me wonder if all the folk tales I was weaned on are true. Leprechauns, pookas and the like. I imagine so. Ironic, I suppose, coming from a man who talks to spirits on a daily basis. Oh, and don’t worry yourself there, either. None of em around, they’re all out seeing if they can spot our newest friend.”

Declan had a lot to think about now. Of course, he wanted to track and take down the Wendigo himself. He felt partially responsible for the fact it wasn’t behind bars currently. But he also knew, knowing what he knows of them now, how difficult that would be. The proverbial needle in a haystack. A thing that can take on anyone’s face could hide indefinitely, and that’s even if he/she/whatthefuckever stayed in the city. He couldn’t escape that this Fae Court was the way to go. He knew so little, but figured they had a way of tracking their own, and he couldn’t think of anyone who would advocate for the continued freedom of this one.

And that lead to more questions. How to get in touch with them? Mads said it was a dangerous place, though that didn’t worry Declan overly much. He had gone into plenty of dangerous places, after all. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be on the radar of some mystical council of weird faery folk. More than once during this episode he wished he had never even started down the path, he had to admit.

He pulled into the parking lot of Shizen Vegan Sushi Bar & Izakaya, and stepped out. Declan hadn’t eaten here before, but had heard about it and had been curious. He wasn’t a vegan, not by a long shot, though the Irish were known to often subsist on potatoes and cabbage anyway, so he had never been one to think that meals needed meat.

“I’ve heard the rolls here are a bit bland, just slices of veg on a blob of rice, but the Spicy Garlic Miso Ramen is brilliant.” Declan said to Mads as he held the door open for his coven mate. “But, then again, with a bit of soy and wasabi, cardboard is palatable.”

They were seated, and Declan ordered edamame, the ramen, and some sake. He needed a stiff drink after today. He felt a little concerned and guilty about Mads. The man’s help had been invaluable, but he hadn’t given much thought to the fact that the man could have met a dangerous or horrific end of some sort. Declan had signed on for that as soon as he agreed to wear the badge, but Mads was just doing favors.

“Look.” Declan said as he cracked open an edamame pod. “I know I’ve said it a few times now, but I just want to hammer home how I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far in this mess if it hadn’t been for you. Sorry if it got a bit intense for you, but, you really held up well, I thought.” Well, maybe not the passing out part, but he had saved Declan’s ass when Sylvia had the drop on him. That counted for an awful lot. “I mean, don’t worry, I won’t start dragging you along all the time, but, this case showed me just how useful something like you have can be. Can’t hide from the truth, and truth is what you see.” Ok, occasionally subjective truth that needs to be interpreted through perspective, but still.

Declan took several bites of his ramen, then downed a shot of the sake as he leaned back, watching as the other diners filed in, the wait and kitchen staff moving about. It dawned on him that, really, any one of them could be Ted/Greg Dahmer the Wendigo. The smart money would be on him or her getting fast and far out of town. But the thought of this thing loose in Disneyland was another nightmare of its own. No, Declan wanted it brought down, and he wanted to be the one to do it. The good news is, Declan now knew they tended to have a lair. And there was the dead plant thing. Plus the hopefully existing trail of missing persons.

“I guess my underlying point is, well, thanks. And when it’s time for me to go knocking on the door of this court, don’t be shocked if I call you to at least consult. Sure, I can research the same books as you, you just seem to have this understanding. Well, far lot more than me, at any rate.” Declan felt he was rambling a bit at this point, which he was wont to do on occasion, so he continued his meal in a few moments of silence. Followed by mostly small talk, anything that didn’t involve death or pool bones or face eating. Afterwards, Declan paid for their meal, then went back out to the car.

“Well. That was still an adventure, yeah? One of those days, though, where I’m glad to call it a day. Let’s go home.”

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