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Too damn slowly, the woman reacted, whipping around to face the shattering glass sound as the gargoyles began bearing down on her. With one hand, she ripped the covering off of the long thin weapon, revealing a halberd that pulsed with blue energy, a lightning bolt carved along its staff with a...

"I do," the prisoner responded, stepping quickly to stand at the back of the line.

Vernon didn't respond, just stood there watching the night sky. He could see the sirens in the distance, wondered if they were for him.

"Mm," Vernon replied - to all of it. His eyes focused again on the werewolf as he reached into his back pocket, pulled out a crumpled card. He handed it to the boy, the words DET V DUPUIS VIOLENT CRIMES stamped across it, black on eggshell white. A number followed the name. "In case you need...

"It's not nothing," Vernon said, lifting the recent corpse up slightly so he could slide backwards, lowering it to the cold roof tile. "He died afraid, but not alone. Died knowing we tried to save him. It's not nothing." The cop stood, then, flexing his knees lightly until a small pop could be...

"What's a millicenton look like?" the man asked, imagining some form of vehicle. He lifted a pack without any discernible effort, holding the rifle by the barrel.

The cop's eyebrows creased at the news that the boy had opted to follow the sound of screaming as opposed to turning tail. He glanced at the roof - in the direction Rene was standing - lips twisting as if in thought. When Elliot finished, Vernon let his words hang in the night air as opposed to...

Vernon let out the air in his lungs in a loud snort, his gaze snapping back to Elliot. He waited until the conversation between the two ended before nodding his head at the dying wolf - the man clutching weakly at Vernon's pantleg, his breath morphing into a constant, keening rattle. "Now might...

Joe Darknaught: A super powered criminal. His skin hardens the longer he's awake, and he's freakishly strong. Also very dumb.

"Yeah," Vernon said, rubbing at his chin - three days of scruff making his entire body itch. He should've shaved - would have been better if he was clean shaven. The three-day ritual was all out of whack, now - with cops dropping like flies and something bad - really bad - scrabbling at the...

"Yeah," Finch said, rolling his eyes, "he's in the wrong business for ambition."

"I don't know who she was," Vernon replied, annoyance riding his tone, "but I was hoping she was related to another case of mine." He reached into his shirt, pulled out a pendant and showed it to the boy. "Orange portals usually mean spacial pockets - relating to time magic. This contains it -...

Vernon bowed by the man's head, flicking open a straight razor and cutting through the thick cords that held the man down. With as much care as possible, he unwrapped the man's wrists, then moved to his feet, continuing the clinical, quiet motions. A rattling sigh escaped the man when he was...

Not waiting, Vernon scaled the fire escape two steps at a time, boots clanking against the anchored stairs. Halfway up, it rocked dangerously in its supports, but he just grit his teeth, tapped his thumb, kept running. Vernon reached the top, and took in the fully-formed werewolf now strapped...

"Boost me," came Vernon's response, then, pausing for a second, looked at René. "You stay here," he said, then gestured to Elliot.

"Wait, you can't-" Vernon called, and, swearing, followed. The scent took them half a block south, where a two-story building sat, squat and ugly, surrounded by low rise apartment complexes. The fire escape was rusted and worn, the first rung nearly ten feet off the ground. They heard nothing...

Harriet fell backwards, staggering to face the wall. Vernon let the boys move past him for now, thumbing back the hammer on the revolver, keeping his eyes locked on the woman. "Don't," he said, as she straightened, still facing away from him. She was breathing heavily, her hands inching towards...

"Mm," Finch said, poking at the tech's shoulder. "I think you should leave the detecting to the detectives, son."

Vernon DuPuis' grip tightened on the steering wheel, the undercarriage of the car scraping against the crest of a hill as it flew towards the location of the call, competent hands gripping at the wheel. The siren screamed out from the beat-up patrol car, echoing off of buildings as he screeched...

Harriet, too, was frozen - her arm cold, numb, as the black ink circled her limb, making it feel like it wasn't part of her, like it was luggage being swung by a strap. She pulled, aiming to put a foot on the thing and rip free, the knife clattering to the alleyway floor. The man, tied down...