Fantasy Murder in the City of Devils- IC

[strawberryspiral]

Murder in the City of Devils​

IC THREAD
​

A murder mystery set in the fantastical Los Noctis an international epicenter of the arts, culture, and entertainment. Bloodywood is a place for self discovery, expression, and where dreams are said to become reality. Some say The City of Devils is both a symbol of hope and everything wrong with the world.

In the year 2024, Los Noctis City has prided itself in upholding the Mythical Mandate. A series of laws put into action by The Order of Divine Judges. A council of wizards with presidential power, and strict moral codes. The mandate deems all arcane/supernatural beings as deserving of equal rights and the right to asylum from Hunters. Some prevalent places of worship have begun to pop up within the city, taking on the title of “Safezone”.

Due to the current tense political environment some living in the so-called: “City of Stars and Plastic,” have noticed strange comings and goings as of late. Rumors of mass violence and uprising to come makes waves with conspiracy theories online. Pointing to the acceptance of the Arcane as a sign of the times. Some even believe magic to be a great sin, that one day it will come back to bite humanity in the end.

With the Mythical Mandate, magic related crime has almost doubled. Not only is it abundant, but the severity of the crimes has increased. Often violent and disturbing in nature, and involving magic's much darker facets. As the government pushes to accept the supernatural into everyday life as equals. The people wait with bated breath, just because a law is written doesn't mean others will follow. Especially those in positions of power who consider laws to be beneath their illustrious feet. As for secrets the city hold plenty, the maze of alleys hide plenty, and fear of the unknown holds many mortals hostage. This story follows detectives, several celebrities, and beings both heroic and nefarious as they go about their daily lives. Attempting to survive within the shadows of the City of Devils.

Collaborators
@Garbage. @BuggaBoo @Pumpum Ayama @Coryen2 @joestar

This city is my home, it raised me up when the world pushed me down. My family’s lived here for generations. Some people say this place is cursed but I disagree. From the beginning, humans have always labeled magic as a gift from devils. I think it’s because we were envious, and didn’t understand it. Personally, I’ve always seen magic as a gift to us all- it’s saved lives. Provided humanity with so many opportunities. We should cherish that- human or arcane doesn’t matter. That’s why I love this city, it brings our dreams to life. Rashani Sharpe

 

[strawberryspiral]

Part One: Things Better Left Unsaid​

-October 10, 2024-​

-9:30 AM-

-Downtown Central Business District-​

-Los Noctis City Police Department-​

Sgt. Detective Andrei Silverspun​

There’s that smell again- Andrei’s head snaps up from where he was anxiously tapping his foot while scrolling through emails at his desk. Sniffing the air with just the barest flaring of his nostrils, one of the guy’s bought that atrocious pumpkin spice latte again. Everyone at this point knew how sensitive werewolf’s noses are to certain smells, Andrei particularly.

Nothing against pumpkin, just that the smell of it mixed with spices always irritates his sinuses, and gives him migraines. One of the newer AIU officers- Nelson D’aprile, a guy twice his age who Andrei knew from the early days in the police academy gives him a shit eating grin as he passes. It’s too early for his nonsense, so he opts to ignore him.

How Nels made it to the Arcane Unit is beyond him. He once watched D’aprile step on a Pixie’s wings on purpose, and walk away with a slap on the wrist. He’s the sort of jackass that knows just how to press Andrei’s buttons, he’s been at it since the first day they met. The moment he found out Andrei was a werewolf a switch seemed to split. Nelson made it his mission to drive Andrei insane, maybe he wanted to see the werewolf snap- go feral on him or something. Not that he’d ever give the prick the satisfaction, he’d have to do a lot worse than that.

“Oh, sorry sniffer. Does this bother you?” The elder detective asks with a snide smirk, free hand running over his bald head as if he had hair to sassily toss over one shoulder. Nels winks in his direction as he sits at the desk directly across from him, and Andrei just rolls his eyes. Not even bothering with a response because Nelson just wasn’t even worth it.

Looking over to Julian, his half- banshee partner who usually finds the guy just as irritating as him. Digging through a desk drawer to find a paperclip he’d fashioned into a clip for his nose specially for situations like these. Clamping his nose helps and he goes back to scrolling through emails to distract himself from the smell.

While searching through messages he stops on a response he received from the Captain late last night on the Stalker and Violent Threats case he’d been putting together.

Send New Email

New Email Received

Captain Julia Ramirez

Re: Requests and Referrals

Meet in my office at the earliest convenience.

Walking past Julian whose desk is saddled up against the opposite side of his own, tapping his shoulder lightly as he passes. “Be right back, the Captain needs me-” He starts only to be interrupted by Nelson who always has something to say.

“-Ooh someone’s in trouble,” D'aprile sings-songs.

Andrei just gives him a flat look before turning on his heel to walk across the expanse of their relatively small department towards Captain Ramirez’s office. From behind him he can hear Nelson let out an exaggerated huff, “Huh, looks like the Big Bad Wolf woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

There’s some weak laughs, mostly sympathy chuckles. A couple of other officers give him panicked looks as he walks past their desks as if begging him not to leave them alone with him. Stopping at the open door awkwardly, Andrei pokes his head in to throw a casual smile her way as he knocks lightly on the doorframe.

“Morning, Cap, how’s things?”

From where she’s hunched over, fingers flipping through a case file she waves him over. “Things are shit, everything’s turned to-” She stops as someone walks by the doorway.

A single hand raising, and dark brown eyes glancing to the ajar door pointedly, “Close it the door will ya? And have a seat.” The sergeant does just that with a pep in his step, moving to sit down in one of the uncomfortable chairs sitting just beyond her desk. A heavy sigh leaves her lips as the Captain shuffles through the manilla folder on her desk.

“Seems like you’ve been knee deep in shit since the first of October.”

Andrei shrugs, brows raising as he realizes the case file she’s got is one of his recent ones. “Yeah, I guess, the Tidal case- celebs got it rougher than you’d think. Something’s wrong with people these days, whoever’s been tracking her is clearly not of sound mind.”

Captain Ramirez chuckles, pushing rectangular glasses up the bridge of her nose as she eyes the paperwork before her. “Clearly, and we need to take these threats seriously. You mentioned something in the report about New Veil City- the attack back in 2022?” She flips through paperwork as she reads it aloud and he nods.

“Yeah, I think it could have the potential of developing into something similar. I mean, they did threaten the Jubilee Ball in letter three. That’s why I put in the request for extra manpower and specialty N.O.P gear.”

Captain Ramirez tosses the folder on her desk with a loud groan. Pushing her glasses back up on her wrinkled forehead with a grim frown pressing its way onto her face as her dark eyes meet his. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Sergeant Silverspun sucks in on sharpened canine teeth, “Lay it on me Captain.”

“Well… Good news is they’re giving you the manpower- Blackthorne and Montgomery. Bad news- your request for special N.O.P gear was denied. Until, the Order of Divine knows for sure an Arcane is involved they won’t touch it.”

Hand smoothing over his face Andrei tries to shove all the frustration he feels into a tiny ball. Pushing it to the back of his mind for later. “Of course, just my luck. Can I be frank with you Captain?”

The Captain answers in a pitying tone. “Feel free, Sergeant.” She throws her hands up in the air as if to say there’s no one but her around to listen anyways.

“I thought the AIU was supposed to make this stuff easier. I mean, it feels like there's just as many hoops to jump through here as there was when I was just a Private on the force. The Order said that instating the Arcane Unit would help us bypass all the B.S. But it feels like we're doing the exact opposite here. I’m fighting an uphill battle with the Order just to get past all their security clearances!” He grumbles.

Leaning over to drum his fingers against the wood surface of the Captain’s desk. Trying to dispel some of the tension piling high on him as this conversation draws on. The International Hall of Culture and Arts Jubilee is tonight, and he still doesn’t have everything he needs to guarantee this girl’s safety. Andrei's got zero leads and nothing to back his claims. Nothing but a gut feeling so true just thinking about the Jubilee makes him want to throw up.

Grabbing the old cord phone on her desk, the Captain taps some buttons to make a phone call. Glancing between Andrei, and the manilla folder on her desk, as she speaks. “I know, I know- believe me you’re not the only one who’s said that to me. I’m doing my best, you know how it is in the LNCPD- we have to make due.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” The half werewolf mumbles as she makes a request of the secretary on the other side of the line.

“Hey, Janet. Send in detectives Montgomery and Blackthorne for me will you? Thanks.” She slams the phone back down on the receiver as her eyes slowly drift up to meet Andrei’s once again.

There’s weight there, as if there’s something on her mind she wants to say but can’t. Within the dimly lit office, curtains closed, and door closed the Captain shifts in her seat. Hands clamping together into a ball on her desk as she awaits the arrival of the two other detectives.

“Just try to survive the night, and we’ll see what I can do about that referral. Alright?”

Brows shoot his hairline in surprise, “They okayed the undercover operation but not the gear? Forreal?” He asks incredulously, voice raising an octave in disbelief as she cringes.

Captain Ramirez somehow manages to look more disappointed than he feels. Andrei can smell the subtle shift in her scent- from confident to wary. “Sorry sergeant, our funding’s gone to shit. As usual.”

Bronzed skin betrays him, tinged red with the rage he’s managed to hide so well, up ‘till now that is. “You gotta be kidding me Cap’.”

Mentioned
Ayama (Julian) @joestar (Phillip)

---

-West Bloodywood Hills-​

-Tidal Twins Residence-​

Jazmine Tidal​

BANG BANG BANG

The balled fist of one of the Tidal Twins slams repeatedly against the locked door of her older sister’s bedroom. “Jess! Get up! I’m not kidding!”

There’s no answer from the other side of the door, leaving Jaz faced with no other option but to keep ramming her fist into it. “We have to be on the red carpet in less than ten hours! Get up! Or I’m dumping your fish tank into the toilet!” She threatens from the otherside of the door, voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.

At this point she knows Lillian can hear everything from where she’s setting up her expansive kit of makeup and application tools. Not that she cares, Lillian’s seen them go at it worse than this. Her and Jessica hadn’t really been getting along as of late. Spending a lot of time apart while her sister did a press tour, promoting “All Out of Luck” her first acting gig. While Jaz focused on what brought them to Bloodywood in the first place- their music.

As she raises her fist to slam back down on the door one more time it swings open to reveal the blue skinned merfolk clad in a baggy shirt and underwear. Rubbing on eye sleepily with a yawn, “Gods above- chill the fuck out. I’m up- I’m up-”

“About time, you know how long I had to bang on your door? How long were you out last night? I told you to go to sleep early-” She pinches one of her sister’s swollen, dried drool stained cheeks. “-Ugh, now your face is all puffy from the drinking.” She chastises only for Jess to slap the hand away.

“Don’t touch me, your greasy fingers are gonna give me pimples.”

“The drinking will make you break out before I do,” Jaz snaps back and watches Jess walk right past her, heading down the hall towards their shared living room.

“Whatever loser, you’re one to talk. You’ve got dark circles for days.”

“Yeah, because I was working on our album. You remember our album right? The whole reason we moved out here, to record-”

“-Yes, I know Jaz, can you quit it with the passive aggressiveness? You’re worse than our Moms.” Jessica complains, wandering across shiny wood floors to the saltwater fish tank setup that holds all her fish friends from back home.

“I’m not being passive aggressive, this is just outright aggression.” Jaz gripes as she goes to sit on their giant coffee table, the low hum of the TV playing in the background.

“Breakfast for my sweet babies-” Lifting a hatch on top of the tank Jess coos to the little fishes as they sing her praises, sprinkling dried flakes into the clear blue water. “-You don’t have to be such a bitch about it," She tags on while chirping to her angel fish.

Lillian- their make up artist, and general life line is off to one side of the living room. Setting up her station of applicators and makeup. She doesn't like fighting in front of staff, it makes them look bad. But Lillian's seen thema t their worst at this point. Jaz reaches to grab a grocery store bag full of wax strips off the floor.

“Because of you I had to write a whole album alone and we have to wax our legs, I’m allowed to be a bitch.”

Jess just lets out a bubble of laughter, as if the thought of Jaz being uncomfortable in a mini skirt amuses her. “Short skirts are a slay though! Besides, you would’ve written the whole album on your own anyways. You never take my criticism seriously.”

“You can’t even find middle C on a piano, of course I don’t take you seriously.” Jaz scoffs not catching the brief look of hurt that crosses Jessica’s face as she looks over to where Lillian is prepping for make up.

“I could, if you taught me-” Jess stops as the front door opens. Whole body jolting at the sound of their security system beeping. One of their stylists enters, pushing a garment rack on wheels into the living room. Their manager- Willow Turner follows closely behind, holding an ipad so close to her face Jaz doesn't know how she's able to walk in without bumping into something.

Her sister’s wide turquoise eyes follow the stylist’s figure as she enters warily.

“You’re jumpy,” Jaz notes, only for Jessica to turn away, a sour look crossing her features as faces her fish friends.

“I’m just hungover,” She traces the glass of the fishtank watching as the small school of angelfish bob along happily, nibbling at the food floating around.

Jazmine rolls her eyes, “Of course you are. You want me to order something?”

Jess’ lips purse and as she slowly nods, eyes still fixed on the angelfish. "Get me a smoothie- well blended," Is all she responds with.

No please, or thank you, just a command- like Jazmine's her butler or something. Looks like it was going to be one of those days then. Sometimes her sister got this way, moody, and slightly on edge. Jumpy for some reason Jazmine isn’t able to understand, probably hang-xiety from the night before, but still. She could tell something was off about her twin lately, they'd grown up together after all. Jessica’s not the paranoid type, Jazmine’s usually the fidgety one given her social anxiety.

Maybe that's part of why she’s in such an off mood this morning too. The last place she wanted to be was sitting in an audience while cameras projected her every facial expression to millions watching world wide. But, it was necessary- she’d been nominated for something. Jessica too, and if they wanted to bring in more fans for their album’s debut they’d have to get their name circulating more in mainstream media.

The IHCA Jubilee Ball would give them an opportunity to rub shoulders with some pretty big names too. Probably the only thing she looked forward to- getting the chance to meet Saint Laurence. An artist she’d been listening to since she could barely crawl. Her mom’s still to this day have all their stuff on vinyl, blaming the song “I Want You To Love Me” for the twins’ conception.

Looking to where her sister stands motionlessly staring into the deep blue saltwater tank, Jazmine can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. Probably because something so obviously is- Jess has been drinking a lot lately. To the point of being belligerent and reckless, sometimes Jaz thinks her pupils look blown out too. But she doesn’t have the courage to confront Jessica on that, and doesn't like what it could mean for them either. It’s easier this way, communicating through backhanded insults and judgemental looks.

Grabbing her cellphone she begins to put in an order for food delivery, watching Jess stare through the fishtank like she’s looking into another world. Swaying abc and forth on her feet, mind in a daze. Jaz shakes her head, if this got any worse she’d have to call their Moms. That’s the last thing she wants to do. Jess hates being snitched on; she sees it as the ultimate twin betrayal.

Tapping her cell phone screen, Jaz navigates to the menu of a decent restaurant nearby. “Hey, do you want anything from this brunch place Lillian?”


Mentioned
Ayama (Lillian)

---

-Bloodywood Harbour & Warehouse District-​

-The Arouet Chasseur Agency-​

Jethro Agot​

Expensive, waxed loafers made of snakeskin slap against pavement. A man in a long coat and button up shirt, far too nice for this side of town, makes his way through narrow alleyways. Passing by shabbily dressed humans and arcane alike who send speculative and conniving stares the man’s way. His clothing catches their attention but they keep their distance- recognizing the power he holds by the odd ember orange irises he sports.

Though on the outside he appears put together, anyone who knows him could recognize the anxious twitch of his left brow. See the worry clear on his face, skin pale yet blistered red in places, with cracked lips. As if he’d been standing in the cold weather all night leading up into the early morning. His legs shake as he reaches the massive front door of the Arouet Chasseur, a Private Detective Agency he;d been frequenting as of late for business. Being a man in the business of selling rare and ancient magical artifacts he found himself in all sorts of places. This one was no different than any other, Dr. Voltaire Chariot- the owner is a man driven by scientific and magical curiosity. Something Jethro himself can relate to, that’s why he was the first option he’d considered when the news struck his ears.

In Los Noctis City people whether arcane or mortal, all beings are relatively the same. Either searching for purpose or knee deep in nefarious means meant to give them one. Jethro pokes the little doorbell, listening to the mechanical buzzing that sounds on the other side. Hopefully, the doctor would know something.

Anything to make sense of the hushed conversations he’d overheard last night. He should’ve stayed home, this is what he gets for roaming the streets at night. Eventually it was bound to happen Jethro always somehow finds a way to get himself into trouble. He just can’t mind his own business, never could. Gossip attracted him like rot to flies.

Staring straight into the heavy, steel reinforced door, his mind wanders back onto the strange metal contraption he’d come across while wandering downtown. It was mechanical, with cogs, wheels, and gears- a strange mix of magic and metal. Could only be the result of advanced, new age magic. Just being in its presence had been overwhelming, like every atom in the air was vibrating on a different frequency. The air had felt thick and there was this horrible groaning from below the cement ground, as if the earth itself was tossing and turning in pain.

Waiting impatiently with one thumb still jammed on the doorbell button, Jethro swallows the spit collecting in the back of his hoarse throat. If the Agency couldn’t give him any answers he’d have to go to the police. They’re the last people he wanted to turn such an advanced piece of technology over to.

Only the Holy Seeress knows what the LNCPD or the Order of Divine would do with the device. Power like that was volatile, and Jethro had no motivation to turn it over to those bumbling idiots. They wouldn’t know what to do with power like that, or they did know exactly what to do. And that could only end in catastrophe for everyone.

Mentioned
@Garbage. (Voltaire) Ayama (Akari)

---

-Downtown Arts District-​

-Lucida Cross Chapel-​

Salem Byrd​

The crisp morning air and clear blue skies of autumn did little to soothe the ghostly young woman’s rampaging fears as she hovered close to the ground. Drifting through a small group of shapeshifters, all laughing boisterously just outside the local community Safezone. Salem reaches up to pull the brim of her snapback down lower over her face. Dressed down in loose fitting sweatpants and a matching baggy sweater she tries to remain as unrecognizable as possible. Distinct pale pink wisps of translucent hair tied in a messy bun at the base of her head.

The young men in front of the chapel are doing tricks on skateboards. Zigzagging around one another, scraping down guardrails with incredible balance, that Salem finds herself jealous of. One of the shifter’s- a young man covered in scales with snake-like pupils, pauses his skateboarding stunts. Going to hold one of the massive double doors made of shined oak wood open for her.

“Thanks,” She murmurs meekly, surprised by his sudden act of chivalry.

The young man just tips his head nodding, a smile parting green lips. Forked snake tongue darting out between sharp fangs as she passes by. The shifter doesn't seem to recognize her thankfully, so she makes a dash for an altar shoved into an alcove at the back of the Chapel. It's a beautiful building lined with polished, wood, and brilliant multicolored reflections of stained glass windows. Casting colorful glowing lights over the small gathering of people held within the Chapel’s walls.

She steers clear of the crowd gathered at pews, or knelt at the massive stage, just before the altar upfront. Several arcane and mortals of all backgrounds turned to look in her direction as she entered; only to thankfully immediately ignore her.

That is until, someone within the Chapel shouts out her name, “Salem!”

A familiar voice rings through her ears as she hovers in the back of the Chapel. Some within the Chapel begin to whisper, eyes darting back to glance in the ghoulish celebrity’s direction. Salem just huffs, glaring to meet eyes with an old friend and her current employer, Rashani Sharpe. The aging woman’s wrinkled face creases into a large, warm smile as she approaches the ghoul/human hybrid. Something in her hands that she holds tightly at the center of her chest. It flickers gold- some sort of necklace that she plays with as she stops just before Salem’s translucent, corporeal form.

“Hey, you made it-”

Salem can feel their eyes, the pointed looks. They’re all starting to recognize her, she can see a young woman- human, pulling out her cell phone or covertly filming her as she wanders over in their direction.

“-What the actual hell Rashani, why would you scream my name like that? Everyone’s looking- everyone knows-”

“-Relax,” A single hand reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ears as Rashani whispers next to her ear. Getting into Salem’s very personal space but at this point she’s used to her CEO’s maternal nature.

“It’s fine, we have the law of hospitality on our side here. No one’s going to be rude. Trust me.” She waves a hand flippantly through the air.

Salem eyes the young woman who is trying to hide her cellphone camera with a piece of paper. Pretending to read some sort of “Mental Health Outreach” pamphlet whilst violating her privacy- ironic really.

“Oh, yeah? What about her?” Her chin juts out to signal Rashani to the mortal teenager not so sneakily taking footage of her.

The CEO of Lucky Sun Entertainment smiles. A glimmer of humor flickering through dark eyes as she rubs fingers around the golden pendant, hanging by a tiny chain at her neck. “Oh, no need to worry. The fancy faerie in charge of this place- he don’t play...”

Mentioned
@Coryen2 (Cadmus)

---

 

[Ayama]

Captain's office, with Andrei & Captain Ramirez

Goddammit, Julian thought, relishing the mundane expression as he walked to work with his hands shoved in his pockets.

As members of the Divine Order, the Blackthornes were, of course, devout followers of the Seeress, but ever since leaving the family behind Julian had taken great pleasure in becoming as mundane as he possibly could.

His father, whom he rarely had contact with at all anymore, would grit his teeth in irritation when such expressions crossed his son's lips, torn between wanting to yell at him for blaspheming against their prophet and the feeling that, with his inability to carry on the family's legacy, it was actually more appropriate that Julian not invoke her name.

Even as he savored the expression, however, his soured as his mind turned, once more, to how bad things had been in the city lately. Mundanes attacking arcanes, arcanes attacking mundanes... It was the AIU's job to establish and maintain the peace, but they were fighting against literal centuries of prejudice and bad blood, and that kind of radical change didn't happen overnight.

Not to mention the fact that they were grossly understaffed, and what staff they did manage to get (most LNCPD officers wouldn't even consider a transfer to the division- they preferred to deal with mundanes and mundane affairs only, too prejudiced or too scared to step up) were, at best, incompetent, while some had clearly joined purely for the ability to make life hell for as many arcanes as possible under the pretense of a badge.

It was these assholes that Julian took something of an issue with (to put it mildly), and he'd already been called in on several occasions for making it clear to them that he wasn't about to tolerate that kind of problematic behavior.

Speaking of which...

The smell reached him a few seconds after it did Andrei's sensitive wolf nose, though he knew it was coming by the familiar expression of distaste on his partner's face. He and the younger detective had bonded fairly quickly after being paired up- they had similar values and a similar view on what their function was in this position as AIU detectives, and their struggle with fatherly approval or abandonment had further reinforced their being kindred spirits.

The two locked eyes following Nels' usual daily insult, Andrei's seeming to say 'Hasn't this prick gotten tired of this immature bullshit yet?', clipping his nose against the smell and returning to his emails. Julian had always admired his partner's impressive restraint in the face of prejudice and bigotry- between the two of them, Detective Blackthorne was the one most often deemed a 'loose cannon'.

Julian had petitioned to have Nels booted from the department for inappropriate conduct several times now, but nothing doing- they had no money, and they needed the manpower; even if that manpower was actually adding to their problems, rather than helping to solve them.

Julian nodded at his partner as Andrei walked past him to go meet with the Captain, his lips tightening thinly as Nels made another annoying comment.

If this idiot doesn't shut his mouth soon... the detective thought, vein pulsing in his forehead.

To take his mind off it, he made a quick stop by the coffee machine, grabbing a cup of the scalding-hot brew. Luckily, Andrei didn't mind the smell of plain coffee- it was the annoying additives that did it. As he took a sip and caught another whiff of the abomination himself, Julian thought that it was utterly appropriate that a basic asshole like Nels should be a pumpkin-spice drinker.

He walked slowly back to the bullpen, sipping and thinking, when his thoughts were interrupted by the Captain's secretary- a kind, middle-aged woman named Janet- poking her head out her office door and saying in her quiet, breathy voice "Detective Blackthorne, Captain wants to see you."

Julian made it a point to walk purposefully close to Nels' desk, 'accidentally' bumping into his chair and spilling his piping-hot coffee into his colleague's lap.

The officer jumped up, screaming like a banshee (no pun intended), and directing several choice expletives Julian's way. The detective responded with a bland and carefully neutral smile.

"Oh, sorry about that, Nels," he said without a hint of actual apology in his voice, "you know how clumsy I can get sometimes. But hey, too bad you aren't a werewolf, eh? Otherwise you might've been able to smell that coming."

And on that note, he left the man white-faced behind him, covered with coffee and spluttering with incoherent rage.

He stepped into the office to see a familiar long-suffering expression on the Captain's face and frustrated scowl on his partner's.

"Blackthorne, what was that ruckus out there?" she demanded. "You're not going to make me have to write up yet another report, are you? You know how much I hate the paperwork," she said as she stared at him hard. He responded with his most innocent expression.

"Of course not, Captain- it was just a little accident; no report needed."

"Hmm," she responded, not remotely mollified or convinced. The staring contest went on for another couple seconds before she sighed, resigned, and said "Anyway, you're assigned as backup on Silverspun's case- he believes Tidal's stalker might be hitting the Jubilee tonight."

Julian nodded- Andrei had shared his suspicions with him, and he trusted his partner's instincts.

"Of course, cap. Anyone else on this detail?"

"Montgomery's coming with." Another nod- Phillip Montgomery was an excellent resource to have on any obscure, arcane-related case, even if he'd been assigned to the division more on a consultant basis than for actual field work.

"Tac support?" he asked. The expressions on Andrei's and the Captain's faces told him everything he needed to know about that.

"Dammit. Okay, well I don't want us going in there blind. Drei, I think we should stop by Lucky Sun- talk to the Tidals, and anyone else there who might have some information."

The more information they could get on this stalker and the credibility of the threat, the more likely it was that they'd survive the night.

The Bloodhound

Julian Adrian Blackthorne

code by Nano