Writers round table

[Qualapec]

"Andrea?" she said looking at him with large doe eyes.

Andre stared at her, dumbfounded, for a few moments. Yamila was more haggered looking than before. Her dark hair was plastered to her face with sweat. The silks she had on were plain compared to the extravagant clothing she'd worn earlier. Most of all she didn't even look like she would be able to walk if not for the aid of the healer. He found himself smiling. That was his Yamila, stubborn to a fault.

The last time she'd given birth she hadn't looked like that. He'd been in the middle of a heist when he got the message she was in labor. By the time he was back to their little cottage in an underdeveloped world his mind was racing with all the things that could have gone wrong while he wasn't there. And she'd been standing at the doorway, waiting for him with a beautiful baby girl in her arms. He remembered it so well. The golden reflection of the sun on the field surrounding their home had given her dark skin an ethereal glow.

She was definately more worn out than she had been then, but she still held herself with grace.

Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he felt his defences against the trauma he'd pushed away begin to crack.

She was the first to break the silence, "I'm glad you made it..."

He shrugged and mimiced nonchalantness as best he could, "You know how it is with me and my kind; if it isn't one gallows it'll be another."

A ghost of a smile dashed across her tired features, "I'm sorry. For everything."

"...Yeah. Me too." That was all he said before reaching out with his hand and gently tracing it along her jaw, before guiding her face up to his. They kissed, sweetly, sorrowfully. After all the time away from him, she still tasted like the most exotic spices, her hair still smelled of jasmine. Having her body so near to his, her presence overwhelming his senses was what caused the shields at the back of his mind to shatter; opening the floodgates holding back the pain of losing his hand, the pain of losing Yamila again, and the mental problems that were destined to arise from facing one's own mortality. Quickly, he broke away the kiss.

He turned and walked away in the hope that she couldn't see the tears slipping down the side of his face.

Later, in an abandoned corner of the palace, he made a seat on a piece of rubble. The tears came first. Then the sobs. Then the crushing pain in his chest. After that came the uncontrolable shakes from the leftover adrenaline in his system.

He stayed like that for a long time.

VVVVV

I watched what transpired between the woman in red silks, and Andre. I realized that my assumption about her earlier had been correct. So that was Debbie's long lost concubine mother. Andre's long lost wife. I don't quite know what was said, or what wasn't, but in the end Andre turned and left. This left Debbie to approach the tired out woman. The two of them walked inside with the healer. I assumed they had a lot to discuss.

So, I turned my attention to Reza. "So...what do I need to do now?"

Reza shrugged, "You could search the Five Center worlds...but they are massive, and there's just as much a chance he could have disapeared into a smaller world to recurperate."

"...So what do I do?" I must have sounded like an idiot, but I was still not going to go around searching for an Emperor in multiple universes without even a clue of where he was.

There was a slight roll to her eyes, "You may return to your home and await further instructions."

"Oh," I said, a little snippily, "I'll wait for instructions, will I?"

"Yes," Her tone became just as clipped as mine, "That's exactly what you'll do."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Now you're just being infantile," She snapped.  With an exasperated sigh she ran a hand through her dark hair, "It will take a while for myself and my spies to locate him. You might as well go home and rest up for the next battle." There was a slight glint to her eyes, "However, remember that the Wildflower is connected to the magical plains. It may potentially effect circomstances and bring you into situations where you aid is required. Meaning it could very well take you to the Emperor itself after enough of his strength returns to make a dent on the spiritual plain."

Oh goody. But it seemed that, at that moment, nobody else needed me. I could return to my home, my bed, my computer, my tv, my bed. It seemed like such a foreign concept now.

I got ready to will myself home. But I had a thought.

"Reza, what do you benefit from helping me destroy your Emperor?"

She smiled, "That infant that was born today is now the heir apparent to the throne. If somehow the current, cruel Emperor could be replaced by that child, and the child were bred to be a true leader of men and beasts, then the Empire would be a beautiful place. That is what I seek to accomplish."

I nodded. It was fair enough. Even if I didn't totally agree with her methods. "Oh, and tell Andre and Debbie that I'll see them around."

She nodded an affirmative.

With that, well, I guess the best comparison I can make is that I clicked my ruby slippers and willed myself home.

[Anduriel]

With that, well, I guess the best comparison I can make is that I clicked my ruby slippers and willed myself home.

Except, home wasn’t where I ended up. Sure, I was back on earth, my town, my street, but my home wasn’t there. Where my house had been, there was now just a square plot of empty land. The earth was all cracked and dry with a few pieces of rubble scattered about, but that was it. For the gazillionth time since this whole shebang started; I just stood there gawping. What had happened? Now I know I’d just spent time in magical gaga-googoo  land, but here on earth; buildings don’t just disappear.

“Mr Gardner?” A gruff male voice called out from behind me.

Agh!

Would people please stop sneaking up on me!?

“Mr Joey Gardner?”

I turned around to see a guy 5’9, with ebony skin, dressed in a brown pants and a white shirt with no suit jacket. Instead he wore a long brown raincoat. A vibrantly red tie that seemed just a little out of place with the rest, set off the ensemble. The man looked to be in his early 40s with short cropped hair, and he was stalking towards me. Now if I was a certain character from a certain urban-fantasy series I had been reading recently, I’m sure I would have come up with a really clever and witty reply. All I managed was:

“Uh…”   

He seemed to take that as a yes.

“Mr Gardner, I’m Detective Inspector Frances,” he said as he flashed me his badge “And we need to have a little chat.”

Shit.

(AN: It's a little short but for some reason I just couldn't resist.)

[meg_evonne]

"Do I need my lawyer?"

"Probably, but you could help things along if you just answered a few questions."

"Like?"

"What happened here?"

"You think I had something to do with it?"

"You disappear in the middle of it.  Your neighbor survived the blast and he saw you at the scene outside shortly before the bomb went off. You can talk with me or you can talk with Homeland Security.  Actually you'll end up talking to both of us, but to be honest, I think I'll have a little more compassion."

"Why?"

"Because years ago it happened to me, just like this.  Crazy beast in the middle of the night, lot of running and fireworks--then poof, I was somewhere else.   Sound familiar?"

I didn't know what to say.  I looked where my apartment had once been, where my neighbors had lived, where most of them had apparently died.  Finally, "Wildflower can't be everywhere can it?" 

"No, I'm afraid not."

[Qualapec]

"No, I'm afraid not."

"This is some interrogation room," I managed as I took a deep drink from the bottled water. It actually wasn't an interrogation room, it was Frances' kitchen. A homey little kitchen with more plastic in it than metal or wood, but clean. Except for the coffee maker, which seemed to be the only thoughroughly used part of the kitchen.

Frances sat down at the opposite side of the table from me, "So, how did it come to you?"

There was no need to specify what he was talking about, "A friend. She gave it to me as a gift, turns out she knew what it was the entire time. What about you?"

"I was in a car crash when it came to me. Saved my life. When I crawled out a Knight took me to another world, claiming I stole it," He leaned over the table, "You're in some pretty serious trouble here. Homeland Security isn't going to be happy that a bomb went off in your apartment, and you were sighted in the middle of mysterious activity at the scene."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, "I shouldn't be suprised. That's kind of how my last few days have been..."

He smiled, and suddenly I couldn't help but feel just a little bit connected with him. We were both people who had been sucked into something we didn't want, into a battle against forces greater than our own. "Yes, isn't it funny how the Wildflower is supposed to deffect circomstances to our benefit, and yet it seems we are more unlucky when we have it than when we didn't...However, you do have a chance to avoid trouble with the government."

Oh goody, time for the sell. I figured there had to be some reason he hadn't taken me directly to the station. I'd HOPED it was some internal connection to me or a desire to talk about old times...suppose not. "Okay," I said, "What do you want?"

He put down his coffee, and met my eyes, "Let me explain something to you. This world is the farthest away from the center of the..."

"Multiverse?" I offered.

"Thank you, multiverse. This world is farthest away from the center of the multiverse. Of all the worlds it's the newest, and thus the less connected to the spiritual plain." He rose to his feet and walked over to a cabinet, where he pulled out a collection of manila file folders. Sitting back down at the table he continued, "However, it seems that in the last century the spiritual pressure in this world has increased. I assume this is because we are no longer the last world in the lineup, that a new world is spawning after ours, and thus is pushing us closer to Wildfire."

"And thus we're becoming more affected by the magic..." I finished as I reached for the first of the file folders. It was a mass murder, looked like some kind of office party, but it was hard to tell through all the gore. At the center was a creature somewhere between man and wolf. I could only guess, a werewolf. It was dead, filled with gunshot wounds.

Frances nodded, "Exactly. You see, we've always been drifting closer, it just seems that as the new world is in it's birth stages the process has been accelerated."

I shook my head. All my work to keep the Empire from absorbing my world, because it would cause mass panic, seemed to be in vain. It was all happening anyway. "Damnit..." I cursed, "And there's nothing we can do to stop it?"

"No, this is the natural process of things. Although,normally it's supposed to be slower. Usually people become accustomed to it over a long period of time."

I was looking through another file folder, this one was filled with burnt corpses, "What do you need from me?"

"Protection. We need someone who can stop these supernatural forces, keep them from killing people, which will keep them from being noticed."

"And if I refuse?" I felt like I'd said that simple phrase so many times recently.

He laughed, richly and deep. When he calmed down he managed to say, "You are the Wild-bound. You should know the answer as well as anybody."

I smiled. So, Detective Frances DID know what it was like to be the Wild-bound.

[Anduriel]

I smiled. So, Detective Frances DID know what it was like to be the Wild-bound.

I took another swig of water. Now it seemed I was more like Virgin King; Protector of the Universe. Ok, I really gotta think of a cooler name for myself; like Frank. It was odd sitting talking with another Wild-bound, made me wonder if he had known Debbie and Andre. As usual, there were more questioned raised than answered.

“Ok, so I’m like the new sheriff in town, but what happens when I’m… not in town? Or not on this planet for  that matter?”

Sure, I had power, but I couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“That’s where folks like me come in,” Francis replied “Guys in the know who ain’t gonna stand by and let some supernatural asshole tare up our planet.”

“Guys like you?”

“Yeah, seems destiny had other plans for this wild-candidate, got me a wife and kids now. But that only makes our job more pressing. People like us, we‘re the guardians of this plain, the guardians of Earth.”

“So this Wild-bound gig isn’t a lifelong deal…”

Now that was interesting.

“It lasts as long as the Wildflower needs you, then you move on to the next part. Destiny works in strange ways for guys like us.”

“Guys like us?”

“Yeah, y’know; descendants.”

“Descendants?”

“Uhuh,” he said before letting out a little chuckle “There an echo in here or somethin’?

I was doing a pretty good parrot impression by this point, but my blank expression must have told all.

“Uh, they didn’t tell you about that? Oh boy…”

[meg_evonne]

Uh, they didn’t tell you about that? Oh boy

"I think it would be easier to just get laid..."

I stared at the ceiling and thought.  Frances let me work it out as he got a beer out of the refrigerator.  It was covered with photograghs of kids, lots of crayon drawings, a prescription for someone named Candi for an ear ache.  'Why did I get pulled into this?  Descendents? What the heck?'   My dad was a plumber and my mom worked in the registrars office of a state college.  As far as I knew my grandparents had been farmers, bankers, merchants, with one lawyer politician that got in trouble for taking bribes.  It really seemed like Debbie and the Wildflower had made one major mistake this time.  Certainly I'd never heard about any of them being Guardians of Earth. 

Then again, how could Wildflower be wrong?  Maybe I needed a road trip back home. 

"How will you fix it with Homeland Security?  How do I explain that I run around with a plastic toy (Wildflower was playing Starwars again) attached to my hip?  I don't dare be away from it.  I don't know which would be worse--if they believed me OR if they just chalk me up as an over the top, insane, crazy sci fi fan...    I just graduated from college man, I'm supposed to be looking for a job, not saving the multiverse."

The Wildflower hummed at my side, not a warning type humming.  Maybe it was an "I'm so sorry I screwed up your life, Joey" type way. 


and we are back into hard core 1st POV.  We may need to start a 2nd thread to meet the need of women authors wanting a female who knows how to kick ass.....  :-)  Okay, I'll contain myself, I promise, I think, maybe, ahh...I'll never make it.  Chewing my nails in angst.  I'm betraying my sex....:-)  It's a good thing I'm working on an obnoxious 14 year old female YA book....

[Qualapec]

AN: You can start a second thread if you want to, meg_evonne. But in our defense I think we have some pretty strong females in this story, it just so happens that Debbie and Reza happen to be somwhere else at the moment. There's no reason not to tell something from their POV using 3rd.

The Wildflower hummed at my side, not a warning type humming.  Maybe it was an "I'm so sorry I screwed up your life, Joey" type way.

"So, where am I going to live until you send up the Bat Signal, Commisioner?" I asked. It was a perfectly reasonable question, as my last home had been blown sky high.

Frances nodded, "I'll work something out. But for now you can stay here."

I blinked. It was a tiny, homey apartment. I imagined a wife and kids living there and could hardly think there would be room. Unless he planned for me to live in the living room. While that made linguistic sense I still thought it silly from a practical standpoint.

Again, he laughed. "No, I rent this place for work. To store my files and to sleep if I'd be coming back too late or, you know, if someone-dash-something is following me and I don't want to lead it back home."

Okay, that made more sense. I asked, "Allrighty then, next topic: I'm sure you have some cases in mind for me to start in on. And I assume that as long as I'm working with you I don't have to pay rent?"

There was a little bit of a pause, before, "Okay, no rent. You have enough on your shoulders...And you're right. I do have a case in mind."

He told me.

I blinked, "You mean those are real?"

He nodded, "Yep, them and pretty much every other nightmare you've ever heard about."

Suddenly, my mind filled with all the nightmarish things I'd already run into in Wildfire, then I thought about all of the other things I remembered from fairy tales.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

I promised Frances I would get my sleep before starting my 'investigation'.

It wasn't until he left me alone in the apartment that I realized I didn't know dick about investigation.

[Kristine]

It wasn't until he left me alone in the apartment that I realized I didn't know dick about investigation.

I had gone almost immediatly to sleep after he had left.  Out of habit I locked the door.  It wasn't till I heard Frances coming in the next morning that I considered how useless that was.  If something from the Not-Here wanted to get me, the front door would not have been an obstacle. 

"I'm going to need some help" I admitted.  I seemed to be saying that a lot lately.  For the latest in a line of heroes, I was getting the sinking feeling I sucked.  I chowed into a chocolate frosted custard filled donut and decided confession was good for the soul - or misery loves company - I wasn't sure which.

Detective Inspector Frances nodded, "Yeah, we had to look you up and I saw you don't really have a background for this kind of thing."

He had brought over bottles of orange juice and donuts.  I realized I hadn't eaten in a while and was starving.  He didn't look like he was going to have one and just twisted the top open on one of the juices.

"Seriously," I continued around a mouthful, "I don't know why it picked me.  I don't seem to be suited to this and my life is destroyed.  You at least had a law enforcement career starting."

"I was almost done with the police academy when I got it." he snorted mirthlessly, "almost ruined my life - strange things always happening around me, and me always pulling out my keys.  People thought I was nuts with that funny looking thing on my key chain."

I blinked looking at him blankly again.  How could he keep a sword on his key chain?

He took another swig of O.J. with a sidelong glance that told me he was amused at my confusion.  Then the light bulb went on...

"It didn't even look remotely like a sword for you..." 

He nodded, "It was one of those eight ball things, you can screw onto your gear shift to make your old barely running, rusted out Camero look cool."

I thought of the mystery mobile that was probably sitting in a scrapyard somewhere and winced.  "How did it get there?  I mean mine was stolen by...a friend and left in my apartment."

He shrugged, "Some gifted thief from further in, had managed to lift it and brought it here.  As far as I can tell he owned the car before me and the used car lot I bought it from."

I got suspicious.  "What was his name?"

Frances shrugged, "I don't remember.  It didn't matter after it saved my life, and I had become bound.  Besides after I got accused of stealing it myself and taken in by that knight, I'm pretty sure so did the real thief.  The emperor ordered everyone suspected of being party to the theft executed"

I stopped chewing for a moment thinking about my first hours in a cell on another world.  He seemed unconcerned how the stupid thing got in his possession so I dropped it, and made a mental note to hunt down the history of his old car if I ever had time.  For now it was back to...everything else.

"So, first thing. In the immediate future, do you have any idea how I'm going to convince the police that I am NOT a terrorist, or a Star Wars enthusiast who was making meth in my apartment?"

Detective Frances smiled crookedly, "I was getting around to that.  I'm afraid we have some.." he scratched his chin looking for the right words, "...Creative storytelling to do.  Most of which has been done for you - but you will have to go along and seem convincing."

I shrugged, "I guess I can do that."  Nothing could be more unbelievable than the truth.

He considered me for a long second, then nodded with a look that said he knew he had no choice but to trust me.  "Well, Like I said, your not the first person to have the Wildflower, so over the years we've built up stories about this...occult organization.  We called it N.A.I.F. and it's a well funded secret group of occult fanatics who are conjuring up evil with found ancient documents from other planes of existence. (the religious people like to believe Hell - so we let them.) They change normal people into werewolves or giant spiders or a host of other supernatural things that go bump in the night.  A group of 'experts' was recruited to fight these people.  We are a very shunned side, closet group that operates secretly within Interpol."

I frowned.  It was just too many things in one day.  Really.  "There's an occult group like that?"

Frances rolled his eyes and took another pull at his juice.  "No" he explained patiently as if he was talking to a child, "We made up this group so that we wouldn't have to tell the governments of the world that we were fighting an uphill battle against extradimensional forces that will probably, eventually, way in the future... give the average Joe public citizens everywhere the power to manipulate arcane forces."

I covered my chagrin by grabbing another donut, "Well yeah, of course, what I meant was...ah..." I took a bite to stall and give me time to think of an excuse, "What did you tell everyone N.A.I.F. stood for?"

[Qualapec]

I covered my chagrin by grabbing another donut, "Well yeah, of course, what I meant was...ah..." I took a bite to stall and give me time to think of an excuse, "What did you tell everyone N.A.I.F. stood for?"

Frances took a break from his sip of orange juice to look at me, very seriously, "It's top secret."

"...You never came up with a meaning, huh?"

He shrugged, "That's only half true. My partner came up with something clever, I just never...remember."

I laughed really hard at that. Not that I really had any right to, I probably wouldn't have remembered a bunch of big nonsense words either. We ate in silence the rest of the time, at the end I shoved a doughnut in my mouth. It tasted really good, and I couldn't resist a slight sense of arrogance. Debbie had always complained that I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight. I had naturally relished every possible oppertunity to remind her of it. Just as she had relished the oppertunity to drag me into an interdementional power play. See? Our relationship was very even.

With the doughnut and the orange juice finished, we got to work. Frances briefed me again on the case, "Local businessmen have been violently murdered. They are all from different companies, so there was no connection there."

I reviewed what I'd learned last night, "But the connection is that they all had the tendency to pay women to sleep with them."

"Yes, but it's important to remember that only one of them was known to pick up street prostitutes, the others spent their time with the high-end escort companies. And their bank accounts were drained shortly before they died."

I felt smart, even though I was really only reciting what he'd told me last night, "Aha. So whoever did it wanted money."

"And food," He added.

"And food," I agreed. A severe understatement was what that was. These business men had been skinned, and devoured almost down to the bone. Frances told me that the only way to identify them had been through dental records. I began, "So, I don't know a whole lot about mythology. How many she-demons are there that lure and devour flesh? Is it a vampire? I've always wanted to stake a vampire. Like Buffy."

He smirked, "Mr. Gardner you're Xander at best."

"But I have superpowers," I argued.

"Yes, but your a pale, skinny, parrot of a man," He seemed to get great pleasure from the look on my face, but he quickly dropped the subject and continued. "The you actually aren't going to get much trouble from the vamps. They've been here almost as long as people. They came here from one of the inner worlds about the same time we were clubbing animals with big sticks. As a result their culture has...adapted. While this would normally fit the profile the manner in which the victims died doesn't work out. Vampires tend to make it look like suicide, or hide the body in a way that no one will find it."

"So what did this?" I asked.

He sighed, "That's why we're here." Suddenly he looked just a little bit older, a brief look of longing went across his features.

I suddenly realized something. Frances was eating breakfast with me, and he'd been at the apartment until late last night. The idea that he even had an apartment seperate from his own home made me wonder if he ever really got to see his wife and family.

But, I reminded myself that it wasn't my place, and that I didn't know enough about the situation to supply an accurate judging of it. Not unlike this alltogether investigation. I am definately learning to speak before I talk.

After that I left to change into the fresh clothes he'd brought me. Blue jeans and plaid. I must have looked like a lankier version of the guy from Starksy & Hutch, and it felt uncomfortable to wear clothes that were so tight after spending so much time in the loose clothing of Wildfire. But all that mattered was that I was wearing familiar threads again. It felt really good. Even though my home was destroyed, this was the closest it seemed I was going to get, and I was glad for it.

Then we left to...investigate. I think. I remind you that I really wouldn't know what investigation looked like if it was knawing my face off. Debbie had always been far more into the detective shows that I was. The only one I ever seriously paid attention to was Scooby Doo, and according to Debbie that didn't count.

It was actually kind of funny, we'd spent a lot of time together before all of the supernatural crap, and those times watching TV and eating popcorn were distant. Now, I couldn't really imagine her as anything other than a perky mage-thief. Well, that and the spawn of Andre, but other than those two things I had a hard time pictureing her any other way. It was very, very hard to think there was a time I'd thought she was human.

With a sigh I realized I missed her. No, not Mage Debbie. Human Debbie. Sure Mage Debbie and I were still very good friends, probably even stronger after what we'd been through. But I didn't miss Mage Debbie like I missed Human Debbie. I guess that was because I knew that I would see Mage Debbie again, and that Human Debbie was someone I would never get a chance to see again. A part of me mourned that.

Quickly, I shoved it aside so Frances couldn't see. I walked out the door to the bedroom and met him at the door. We left quickly to go check out a theory he had.

I'll admit I was quite anxious to see this car that had once housed the Wildflower for him.

[meg_evonne]

Quote from Qualapec, "I'll admit I was quite anxious to see this car that had once housed the Wildflower for him."

Walking outside the apartment building and into the same car in question, Frances handed me a wallet, a cell phone, and a plastic flip open ID carrier.  I opened the ID, my photo (ripped from my driver's license) was in it, along with a shiny Interpol badge (I kid you not).  The ID said, Joseph W Capp, investigator Interpol, Dept of Special Cases.  I slipped it into my back jeans pocket, first having to fumble around Wildflower.  It was in detract mode and looked like a billy club--unless you touched it. Then it just felt like a plastic kids toy.

"Can we stop at a Mall first?"

"Sure thing.  A salary advance was electronically deposited into your account last night.  Interpol doesn't pay as good as the bad guys, but it's enough to keep you in a reasonable middle class tax bracket.  There's a debit card in that wallet I handed you.  The pin is N.A.I.F. on a phone keypad--so it's 6243."  He pulled up to one of those massive city zits, called a box mall.  He waited in the car and, as I walked away, I saw him pull out a cell phone and call someone. 

The first stop was the ATM by the front doors.  I scanned the debit card and punched the pin and asked for a balance.  Then I tried to get my eyebrows back down where they belonged.  'Yeah, that'll be enough,' I thought.

By the time I got out of there, I'd put a dent into the debit card balance, but I was no longer swinging a plastic lightsaber in public.  I now sported a lightweight Khaki London Fog Coat that I wore loose rather than belted.  I found inside the coat that Wildflower must have been busy, because there was a quick release fastener where I could hang it, out of sight. 

Frances pulled up to a high rise and parked at the entrance.  The uniformed doorman looked like he was going to have a fit and rushed out to meet us at the curb side.  That old car really looked nasty, but we both just grinned as we flashed our IDs and the doorman could only frown as he let us in.  We took a private elevator to one of four penthouse apartments on top of the building, with soft jazz music piped in to keep us company. 

On entering the penthouse, my second thought was, 'Hell of a view.', referring to the view out the windows.  My first thought was, 'Hell of a view' , as I centered on, frankly, a hump-me delicious 5'6" Renee Rouso type, but with blonde hair, who was dressed in expensive tailored clothes.  The "business" look just couldn't look "business" on her.  I swore as Wildflower vibrated in jealousy inside my new coat.

The woman spun around, when we entered, holding a small digital camera in her left.  Her right hand reached beneath her suit jacket to her beltline in back.   When she recognized Francis, she let her hand fall--but it was too late.  I'd seen enough cop shows to know that meant she was packing a hidden gun.

Her voice was sultry, yep sultry.  I felt like I'd just walked into a noir detective movie and she was stacked perfectly for the part. The accent held a touch of upper end London, "Well, look who's here.  The boys who fight NAIF, she pronounced it as a word with a long 'A'.

"Joey, let me introduce you to Ms Carrolton.  She's a special insurance investigator who specializes in high end insurance claims--especially those that tend to fall into our catagory of expertise.  Ms Carrolton, Joseph W Capp, a new member of our team."

She briefly glanced in my direction, but I had the distinct feeling that this blonde had just taken note of everything about me, including my in-seam measurements.

"Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?"  I fumbled to readjust Wildflower as she continued to snip in amusement.  "Recruits rather young these days, aren't they?"

Frances just smiled, "We take what lands our way.  You'd be surprised how much he's adding to the team."

My personal thoughts? Okay, this lady was a bitch.  A gorgeous bitch, but still a bitch.


 

[Anduriel]

“So Sarah, why are you here? Tell me you don’t think the vic could’ve done this to himself?” Frances taunted the ‘insurance’ lady.

She gave him a look that said You know why I’m here before actually saying:

“Vic?” her tone a little incredulous.

“Vic-tim, Sarah,” he let out a little sigh “Victim. That’s cop-talk for the bag of bones that used to be our…guy…that isn’t there any more!?”

Francis stalked over to a corner of the room where an outline of something had been taped. If that was supposed to be where the guy had died, whatever had killed him, didn’t leave him like much of a man…  or much of an anything really. The outline just looked like a large blob. Francis was still talking, he seemed a little bemused.

“Ms Carrolton, would you mind explaining why the body that the DSC specifically requested would stay on scene for 24hours, is no longer on my scene? You know there’s tests that need conducting while the body’s still on location.”

Why would an insurance lady have anything to do with the actual body?

“Detective Frances, surely you know the story about the early bird and the worm? I got my worm,” she said smugly “The tests have already been conducted, just not by you.”

For some crazy reason I can’t explain right now, I was starting to expect that our Ms Carrolton worked for an insurance company just about as much as I had passed my Interpol entrance exam. Can’t think why.

[Kristine]

Sorry all.  NAIF was supposed to be the made up bad guy organization that the Interpol group is supposedly fighting - guess I didn't explain that very well
quote author=Kristine  date=1207806575
"...over the years we've built up stories about this...occult organization.  We called it N.A.I.F. and it's a well funded secret group of occult fanatics who are conjuring up evil with found ancient documents from other planes of existence. (the religious people like to believe Hell - so we let them.) They change normal people into werewolves or giant spiders or a host of other supernatural things that go bump in the night.  A group of 'experts' was recruited to fight these people.  We are a very shunned side, closet group that operates secretly within Interpol."..."We made up this group so that we wouldn't have to tell the governments of the world that we were fighting an uphill battle against extradimensional forces that will probably, eventually, way in the future... give the average Joe public citizens everywhere the power to manipulate arcane forces."

I suppose a NAIF unit would be like a Hate-Crimes Unit

For some crazy reason I can’t explain right now, I was starting to expect that our Ms Carrolton worked for an insurance company just about as much as I had passed my Interpol entrance exam. Can’t think why.

"Per the co-operation agreements between agencies, you will of course be sharing those test results and giving our experts access to that body." Frances smiled too sweetly.

Ms Carrolton returned the smile a little frostier, "We will be as co-operative as you would be in our place." she purred.

Frances nodded and turned back to where the body had been, dropping his surupy smile and grimaced at the floor.  "Either your crime scene guys are getting sloppy with the tape or this body was...uh..." he shook his head unable to find a word to describe the blood soked tape outline on the floor.

Despite their departmental anomosity Ms Carrolton answered, "The body was both ripped apart and desicated, like he had time to bleed while something sucked all the liquid life out of him."

She pointed under an end table, "there was an arm over there, and most of one foot under the coffee table."

I looked in the spots she pointed and and saw the sad little tape outlines of body parts.  When I looked up from spotting the one under the coffee table she was looking at me instead of where Frances, with a pair of surgical gloves he had pulled out of his pocket, was taking a sample on a big Q-tip of the blood and...something else, in the main body spot.

"Mr Capp are you just here to get the psychic vibe or are you going to do any acctual investigating?"

[meg_evonne]

Fixed my post....  NAIF bad guys,  he's now with Interpol, Department of Special Cases.  DSC?  How's that sound?

Frances grunted from under the coffee table, "Leave the kid alone, Carrolton.  He's learning."

She gave me a look that said, "Amature".  Which was not called for.  Hey, I hadn't vomited at the sight of blood or the smell in the room.  I thought I was doing pretty well.

Edited to add posting
Working on my villains... Side bar:

Riding upon solar winds, the rocketing gas cloud, known by Joey as Cloudius Gaseous, slowed outside the reach of its home within a massive black hole.  It swirled, waiting for the right time to enter the event horizon.  A large galaxy slipped within and the sight was impressive, but the gas cloud was impatient to reach home.  While it waited, it turned its displeased thoughts to the turn of fortunes on Wildflower.  It needed to share this new information and obtain feedback on how to proceed. 

From its position well out from the entry, he could see the multiple colored strands of massive energy power that stretched outwards away from the black hole.  Each strand-stream was a single unit, providing crucial fuel to provide for the needs of their existence deep within the Black Hole.  In the beginning, gasses formed together, eventually gained sentience with a random blast of magical energy, and sought collective refuge from the blast of creation.  This black hole became their first home.  Anything can feed a black hole, but we had specific needs to exist, to grow, and finally to multiply.  We needed the energies tied to magic.  As our control grew, we were able to exhort power, strengthen the threads between the magic worlds, rearrange the galaxies that previously had drifted aimlessly into the black hole by gravity pull, selecting those with magic within to feed us.
 
Over a hundred threads now extended outwards, each with one as I, working to construct a strand-stream of systems that had magic potential.  All connected  and tied together by natural portals from one to the other.  We encouraged the magic, we blew a soft breath, and it would flourish.  Each strand-stream had several worlds (galaxies), like pearls on a necklace.  The closest were the most magically developed and those further out the least.  The strand-stream pulled ever closer to the black hole, feeding each galaxy with its magic ripened world into the food chain of our kind.  It was a delicate ballet of systems intertwining, approaching, and finally falling when their magic reached the maximum to add to our size, strength, and power.  Soon, we would be large enough for the Release of a new colony, the first since the beginning of time.  It would be soon.  Soon…

The gas cloud felt the excitement from its kind as the galaxy with its magic world within slipped into the gravity well.  Anxious to join the others, to share in the feasting, and the celebration, the gas cloud waited impatiently.  It felt such joy as finally it slipped into the gravity well and was drawn home at last.  It had been a long time, but inside the black hole time was of no matter.  Once home, it would discuss the problem concerning the Emperor, who had backed away from his obligations on the world called Wildflower. 

Within its home, the comfortable absolute blackness surrounded it and it rejoined the singleness of the Mesh.  It felt the waffling of its greater energy envelop it, refuel it, welcome it home.  The Mesh of the collective stretched just above and across the base of the black hole, acting as a filter—pulling the magic energy it needed, releasing the rest to its final fate.  The strand-stream gas cloud released its findings so that all parts would be able to provide input from their own experiences with the memories from other strand-streams.  Its thoughts intermingled with the Mesh collective.

“The Emperor lost the Wildflower world.”  In responce the Mesh wavered in anger.  “I dared not break with his orders without your guidance and I abandoned the world at his order.  The Emperor is unconcerned with the development.  He claims that he will simply by pass Wildflower AND Earth and move on to the new world being pulled into the strand-stream.”

The Mesh collective communicated back via undulations of its surface. “That will mean that the Wildflower will not be in full fruit when it is taken, nor will Earth.”

“Yes, but he is right that the New World is ripe for the taking.  It can easily be turned towards magic.  It is in the elementary beginnings—folk tales and legends are ripe on the world, no technology yet competes to close down the belief in such things.   They have just learned the powers of the winds that they believe come from the Gods.  If I had spent less time on the other worlds, I could have been on Earth to turn it to magic, but I lost valuable opportunities once machines began to take hold.  Magic faded from their lives and it will be a struggle to bring it back.”

Again the Mesh collective communicated back, “The people of Earth are stubborn, but they will learn.  They will be forced to learn.  Once the Emperor takes the New World, will he be strong enough to retake Wildflower and Earth?”

“Yes, I believe he will be.  If not, there are others that we can convince to aid us.  We can promise the same thing we offered the Emperor—the safety of his home world.”

“And you feel that there is time to accomplish all this, on all three worlds, in time to feed us for the Release?”

“The Emperor is arrogant but desperate to save his world.  I would have preferred to not abandon Wildflower, but there is a very good chance that he will succeed.  With the New World, he will have enough power.”

The collective’s Mesh slowed its movement with the news, “IF he is successful, we would have an unprecedented strand-stream of eight galaxies in one great Calling.”

There was stillness as the collective considered this unheard of phenomenon.  Then a slow fluttering built to match the excitement of the recent feast.  “The timing of so much magical energy is an unparalleled opportunity.  If we shifted our energy on pulling them close together and draw them in quickly, it would be enough to precipitate the Release.  Our kind will possess the power to multiply for the first time since the beginning.  Go back to the Emperor, help him take the New World, and then with the added power take back the Wildflower and Earth.  We will move the other strand-streams to coordinate the Calling of this single strand-stream with the Release.”

“May we multiply!” The Mesh collective rippled and repeated the thought across its surface in ever frantic movement until it expelled the original gas cloud in an outward stream of particles that easily escaped the gravity well.  On the outside, light years away from the Black Hole, it swirled in the brightness of the universe and missed the comforting absolute blackness, then it turned and, sailing again within the dark hole’s particle blast, it speed along the strand-stream until it reached the first galaxy.  It sailed past the many uninhabited worlds to its center where it paused outside the atmosphere of the Emperor’s Inner World.  Accustomed now to the brightness of the stars and galaxies compared to the absolute darkness of his own home, it looked outwards, away from his home, away from the Emperor’s world, and down the subtle colors of the strand-stream from the Inner World to the farthest galaxy that contained the New World.  “Yes,” it thought, “May we multiply!  And it will be I who makes it happen.”

[Anduriel]

Meanwhile

Joey

Ok, so I’d done well with the whole not puking my guts out thing, but now they were expecting me to do real police work. In case you couldn’t guess; that’s something I haven’t done before. Ever. I didn’t know where to begin, I mean even with all the cop shows I watched; I was hardly crime scene investigation material…

And so I said the first words that came into my head:

“Actually Ms Carrolton, I am the psychic vibe,” I received a quizzical look from Frances “I’m DSC’s new psychic consultant.”

Big mistake.

If it was possible; Sarah Carrolton’s disapproving look deepened, until she looked like something resembling a bullfrog on ‘that time of the month’.

“Is that so?” She glanced at Detective Frances… I never did learn his first name; come to think of it “I didn’t think Interpol employed such means.”

I retorted with a most cunning:

“Uh…”

“Well Mr Capp, how about you give us all your professional opinion?”

Did I mention I’m really not psychic? It seemed I was however, kinda stupid. One of these days I was gonna learn to keep my mouth tightly shut. Seeing as this wasn’t ‘one of those days’; I just stood there looking stupid. Thankfully Frances came to my rescue:

“Ms Carrolton, if you’ve quite finished grilling the newest member of my staff, I think it’s time you left.”

“I certainly will n¬”

“Sarah, need I remind you that no matter who you represent unofficially, legally speaking you are just an insurance flunky, where as I am an officer with Interpol,” He fixed her with a milk-curdling stare “You leave when I say you leave. Unless you are waiting for an armed escort?”

If looks could kill; Frances would have exploded at that very moment. Ms Carrolton did not look pleased. She paused. As if contemplating whether to challenge Frances on this notion, but thought better of it.

“It is of no consequence. I have already completed my investigation.”

With that; she left.
“Finally, I thought she’d never get her fine ass out of here,” was all he had to say before standing up. “You fancy doing some actual work now? Tell me kid, you ever heard of a skin-walker?”

[meg_evonne]

"The Dresden Files TV show had a skin walker.  Skins someone and then wears the body?  Impersonates the person?  Is what happened here?"

Frances nodded. 

"In that case, what did all the millionaires have in common? that would attract skin walkers?"

Frances smiled, "Thought you'd pick this up pretty quickly.  Good job, recruit.  That's what we have to figure out.  While we work towards that goal, let me give you some rudimentary rules about handling a crime scene."

I listened in as Frances started feeding me rules on how to handle the crime scene, showed me the foot prints in the blood, the dusted areas revealing fingerprints.  Let's just say that I got the Crib notes to Investigation 101.  As we headed out of the building, Wildflower began to hum.  Frances might know investigation scenes, but I had my own personal Wildflower alarm security system.  I hollared at Frances to get in the car and raced to the other side.  Frances' Camaro (if I'm wrong on car type--let me know!) might be rusted out and ready for the scrap yard or a serious restorer, but the engine hummed like a pro, spinning it's wheels and the car's tires as it sprang forward.  0 to 60 in seconds.

Trouble was--it wasn't quite fast enough.