Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Downtown Saint Lemeux

Fishman

Fishman

Broseidon
Benefactor
The office at the Saint Lemeux PD felt strained today. Aside from a few mumbled conversations, it was quiet, an unusual occurrence for the office.

Walking inside chattering loudly on the phone expecting the roar from LPD rewarded officer Natacha Lacoste an ocean of stares from her colleagues. She paused abruptly, mouth hanging open mid-sentence before speaking again.

"-I'm gonna have to call you back. Meet me later today, okay? Bye."

She snapped her phone shut as she waded through the blue uniforms, her own shirt and pants matching. The woman rose her coffee over them as she made her way to the chief's office.

"Hey, Legrand? You threw me a text earlier. You wanted to see me?" she asked as she got to the other side, stumbling into the chief's office. She hooked her toe around the door and swung it closed when the large, stout man motioned.

Prior to their meeting, another text had been sent to a detective- Leo Decirne- to also meet Chief Legrand at his office.
 
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Leo Dicirne was not the sort of man who followed the rules. That is to say, he abided by the law - he enforced it -, he just didn't see the point in following the smaller ones. The dress code for example: while most, if not all, of the police department were dressed in an attire closer to suits, with matching blue trousers and shirts, Dicirne had gone for a different look, with black pants, but still keeping the blue shirt. Over the top of it, a waistcoat like garment, but unfastened at the front. He wore his customary black tinted sunglasses, and something akin to a stetson atop his head. In short, he could have stepped out of a spaghetti western, and while partially this was a natural attraction to his clothes of choice, it was also due in large part to his own personality, and his will to be different.

The chief has sent him a text in the early hours of the morning, asking him to be in his office, only, it wasn't really an ask. More like a tell. So he had abandoned his nightly activity, and had travelled home, to make himself look more presentable. And now, as he approached the building, he was checking his reflection in his phone. While some may see this as simple vanity, it was actually closer to a survival technique. If there was anything out of place -black veins, uncovered eyes, blood - his phone would let him see it.

Nothing being out of place, he walked into the department, quickly moving towards Legrand's office, ignoring any 'hellos' and 'hi's' he may receive. When the door was in front of him, he put a habitual hand to his neck, touching marks that weren't there, and pushed the door open, moving inside.

"Legrand" he said, nodding at his boss, before taking note of the other person in the room. "Lacoste?" He said, having seen her around a few times.
 
"Dicirne," replied Natacha, raising a brow. "Hey, what's this about, Legrand? This ain't an office meeting."

The chief leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, eyeing the man and woman in his office. He reached forward briefly to tap a folder on his desk. "You two might be acquainted already with the murders and disappearances here in Saint Lemeux. Particularly the ones that happened on church property. Now, see, the church doesn't want us sticking our noses in this business, but we all saw those markings on that proselyte that went crazy in the Square, right after his two friends were murdered. There's only a blurry figure for a perpetrator on cameras. This is hot news by now, so I'll be really surprised if you two haven't taken a whiff of it."

Legrand spilled the contents of the folder onto the table, filled with reports and gruesome photos of the Lumiena Square murders, where two proselytes- paladins in training- were slaughtered. "I wish I could grant you more information. The church is bustin' my balls every time I try and touch the case. This is where you two come in," the chief started, pointing up at them both. "This here isn't a case I can let anyone go on alone. The marks are Caer marks. The Order thought they got every last bloodsucker in this town fifty years ago, but they're wrong. Unless someone's playing a sick joke, this ain't a hoax! You two need to find any connections you can to this case, you hear me? And if you encounter the bastard, get the hell out and report it right away. Do we understand?"

Natacha blinked in surprise. "Caer? We haven't heard any word from them in years. They ruled Lutetia for a long time by overpowering the church- just one family against all of Lutetia! My grandmother talked about it. You're sure they're back?"

"With every hope I'm wrong, Lacoste. You're one of our best cops since you've got a lot of witchcraft up your sleeve. I'm depending on you to keep Dicirne safe. Dicirne, I expect you to be hot on this case and allow Lacoste to accompany you every moment you're on this trail. This is the most dangerous thing I've ever asked any of my people to do. Let that sink in."
 
True, Dicirne had heard of the proselyte double murder, and had thought it relatively amusing, how two would-be paladins managed to get themselves killed. Still, this was hardly a fitting emotion for a detective to show, and on the outside, Leo was sombre, or at least, he looked it.

"So you're wanting us to have a look around and see what we can find?" he asked, lifting his head up from looking at the file. "I'm game, seems like an interesting case, but where do we start? You have images, but if the church are keeping us blind, I'm assuming we have no leads?"

Leo was cautious about this: yes, he did want to work the case, but at the same time, he didn't want anything about his private life uncovered. He had a fairly active nightlife, and he would prefer to keep it a secret. He liked this job: it was interesting, and came with a steady supply of cadavers.
 
The chief crossed his arms and scowled. "None that the church isn't holding from us. There was a kidnapping on Monastary grounds, a blind kid and his aide. The boy hasn't been found, but his aide has returned. I did have one detective on the case: Colette Lavoie. She had an interview with some witnesses before the case was wrestled over. Her contact information is inside of the packet. Get it touch with her and see if you can get any more drops of information out of the damned Order. They can't treat this as their own problem, Selene be damned!"

Natacha nodded. "Understood. I'll keep Dicirne safe while he picks up clues-" She turned to face the man, smiling gently. She held her hand out to him. "Well, partner, shall we?"
 
Dicirne listened to the chief rant with a half grin, the corners of his mouth upturned. His dedication was admirable, but his anger was just plain funny.

"Right" he said, nodding to show he understood. "We'll go check out this Lavoie then, see if she can point us anywhere" Hopefully not near me he thought, raising a hand to scratch his neck.

He turned to Natacha, but ignored her hand. She was smiling at him with a smile usually reseverved for young children, or those who were short of a few mental faculties. He wasn't particularly fond of the look, but at smiled back, if only to appear normal. "Let's set off then" he said, nodding in farewell to the chief, and then walking back through the door, one hand straightening the hat on his head.
 
"Very well," said Natacha, bowing her head to the chief. "Take care."

"And you both. Don't die out there. You need to understand the gravity of this situation."

"I believe we do, chief," she replied, taking her cap and setting it on her head as both she and Dicirne walked out of the door. "Selene protect us. We've got a hell of a case. You don't seem terribly perturbed, Dicirne."
 
"Should I be?" he asked "Once you work one murder, you've worked them all. Two cadavers are exactly the same as the next two, the fact they were paladins is irrelevant. Clearly they weren't that good at it anyway"

He weaved his way through the offices, flipping open his phone and checking the numbers "Do you have Lavoie's number by chance? If not, we'll have to sieve through the papers..." he realised his prior comment about the paladins may not be appreciated by his new partner, and mentally reminded himself to keep in line.
 
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"I feel you don't have a lot of perspective on what we're up against," spoke the policewoman, who was slightly shocked. "Those were paladins in training. Proselytes. Children. The markings were potentially from vampires- not ordinary ones, either. Do you know who the Caer are?"
 
Clearly, Leo had overstepped some line; whether this was something personal to Natacha, he didn't know, but it couldn't be helped.

"Some sort of vampire group I imagine" he said, "some sort of advanced group of vampires, ones brave enough to go after the church, or stupid enough I suppose. Presumably there'll be a crackdown on any bloodsucking related behaviour. And the fact they were children is also irrelevant; if a vampire thinks nothing of it, then why should I? Pity never helped the dead"

His little monologue complete, he flipped his phone closed, which is what he had been looking at, and turned back to his partner.

"So, the number" he said. "Want to dig it out?"
 
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"Neither did petulance," remarked Natacha, pulling the number from the packet. She retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and snapped it open, dialing the number. After ringing several times, a caller picked up.

"Hello? Investigator Lavoie?"
 
Pedestrian Mall
Midafternoon

The mall was buzzing today, filled with people shopping for the holiday season. The beginnings of a snow flurry had begun, but it was business as usual for every Lutetian browsing the mall. There was too much to be done before they were allowed to hurry home.

Despite the chilly weather, one woman sat on the ledge of an empty fountain dressed in a cowl and a heavy dress. Her thin, spindly fingers spidered gently over the strings of an unusual harp from Losenji. As she played, her eyes closed and the woman began to sing.

The air here never felt so cold
This winter's chill brings something new
And though the light tries to break through
They cannot break the season's hold

Blind eyes can better see the truth
Pale hands once fought this war for you
Warn though we will, you turn your head
You look in vain for light instead​
 
Before long, the musician had attracted a small crowd of onlookers, braving the winter chill to hear more of her strange but beautiful music. The harp, in particular, was an object of fascination. Where was it from? Looked eastern. The Isles maybe? Losenji, more likely. Though Lutetia held significant sway on the fashions and cultures of other Valoran nations, the small city-state was, by itself, culturally isolated from the rest of the world. Change from the established norm was a rare occurrence for a nation built on tradition, and was met either with curious intrigue or vehement rejection. In this case, wonder won out over distrust.

Few noticed a young man, perhaps sixteen, weave through the crowds. His head was bowed, his jacket pulled tight over his thin, scraggly shoulders. He looked up for an instant as he rounded the fountain, meeting the eye of the beautiful musician. He blinked at her, pale eyes wide and terrified, before darting off without a word. He needed to get away. Why was it so much worse this time? Crowds usually helped calm him, music especially, but it wasn't working like it usually did. He still felt... angry. Hungry...

Faelan would sense the boy's energy before he even approached - a dark, primal power stuffed deep inside his soul, raging at the crude mental barriers which kept it from escaping. It was an old magic, an almost ancient spirit, that much she might discern. Pre-Lutetian, even. How it had manifested itself after so long, in a boy no less, was difficult to discern.

But one thing was clear: it would not remain contained for much longer.
 
Near the edge of the musician's audience, there were those that noted the metaphysical beast-in-a-cage that bore its weight upon a young boy's shoulders. One in particular stood out very clearly, yet those around them paid no heed. They seemed to ignore it, from the stranger's ebony cloak to its dull ceramic mask, as if puppeteers on strings.

When the boy ran away they followed, again to the complete ignorance of the crowds. Their pace was brisk and urgent, yet still a walk. The boy likely didn't have much time, but probably enough that hurrying was not a priority. Yet.

The Fabre witch flashed a smirk of amusement behind the false visage. Such an old being proved suspicious, and her mind had set on finding out more about the circumstances of its appearance, whether it told her voluntarily or otherwise.
 
Mat pulled up to the mall on his Destrie. He glanced at the location he'd been told to investigate, before putting down the stand and getting off. He was wearing his standard grey armour that was most common within the Monastic Order. Before leaving his bike, he double checked his weapons were all all accessible. Sword. Lawkeeper. Scanner. All check.

Standing at just over six foot, the Paladin could look quite intimidating to some folk as he moved, blue eyes locked on following the signal that the scanner was giving. He was here to investigate some anomalies within the area.

Mat only glanced up when he heard music and saw that a crowd had gathered. He glanced around seeing if he could get a gauge on the possible threat in the area. It was his job to protect the public at all costs. As he processed the area movement caught his eye and he saw a boy run away.

The reading on the scanner... Mat knew he had to follow and immediately took off in the direction that the boy had ran in. Was he the source of the anomalies? Possibly. There was only one way to find out.
 
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The singer opened one eye that followed the boy who had joined the crowd until he disappeared. The witch and the paladin took her attention next, though she eventually closed her eyes and kept playing. The tune of the song changed slightly, and her words fizzled into a hum. Soon, the people began to disperse, and everyone who passed her began to walk in the same direction: away from the young boy.
 
The grumbling of Mat's destrier drew looks as he entered the mall. Paladins were not as rare a sight in Lemeux as in the lower city, but a church knight anywhere outside of the Monastery or a crime scene was far from common. The crowds made a neat path for the daunting warrior, murmuring among themselves as he passed. 'A paladin in the mall?' 'A bad sign. We should leave.' 'Perhaps it was just a standard patrol?' 'With how thin the Order is spread these days? Do you think they'd waste a knight without a reason?'

Two youths followed from a distance, cell phones trained on the advancing paladin. Something was about to happen. Maybe if they could get it on video, it'd go viral...

The hooded boy turned at the sound of the motorcycle, eyes widening as he watched the knight dismount and enter the mall. That... that had to be a coincidence... right? Maybe there was something else going on in the mall. After all, how could he know?

A bit more nervous, the hooded boy began to move faster, weaving through the crowds of people, now thinning as a result of Faelan's music. He took no notice of the cloaked witch following him - his attention was on the paladin.
 
As the boy continued his retreat, Tethys produced a long pipe with an excessively thin stem. Even without a flame the device's cup began to billow a thick smoke that collected around her feet.

The witch frowned behind the mask as a paladin, or 'canhead' as her younger colleagues liked to call them, made an unsurprisingly noisy approach. She needed to stop the kid lest the Monastic knight scared him away. She could not forcefully shoo them away, though, as work elsewhere would be compromised.

With a single gesture of her free hand, the smoke quickly and silently slithered past the still running boy. While he was focusing on the paladin, the smoke reformed into a rather accurate illusory clone of the Fabre witch. It stood directly in his path, and a voice resounded in the youngster's head. He would know it was the figure that addressed him, yet they were not the source of the sound.

"Please stop running, I would only like to ask a few questions."
 
Now that he had sights on the boy, and his scanner had indicated that the source of the anomaly was in the same area, Mat only glanced at the device to confirm that he hadn't veered off track from the source. He had caught the look from the boy and his expression for a moment had looked like there was fear within. That reinforced Mat's interest in him, and that there was a link between the scanner signal and the boy. Either that or he was just a troublemaker. Until the scanner told him to go elsewhere, he was going to continue following.

Mathias picked up his speed as the boy continued to move away from the scene. He didn't want to lose him. There was a magical anomaly and it was a risk to the public. He had to contain that risk and bring it in. And that's what he would do. He honestly didn't care whether it was an adult or a child, a man or woman. A risk was a risk. Anyone not human, or possessed some kind of magical ability were a danger to the ordinary.

And that made him determined to contain any and all risks.

His sight was on the boy. "Stop there!" He yelled still a good few strides away. If the boy chose to run though, he had no doubt that he'd be able to follow and catch up in seconds. He emphasised his demand with grabbing his Lawkeeper out of its holster to show that he was serious. It was only then that he saw the smoke in front of the boy. It changed into the image of someone. Mat glanced at his scanner. There was definitely a magical anomaly here, but whether it was the boy now, Mat questioned. But the smoke...

Now it was time for Mat to catch up to the boy, and find out what the smoke illusion was about.

"STOP!"
 
The boy startled at the smoke whisping around his feet. He took a step back as the vapor condensed into the figure of a woman, paling. Magic? Eleu save him, what was happening today? Why was everything so strange and dangerous? He just wanted to be left alone - to sort this out in his own way, as he always did.

It spoke to him. Strange... it sounded calm. Assuring, even. His experiences with the arcane thus far had been anything but comforting.

"I... I don't know you..." he stammered, voice thin and quiet, "...please, just leave me alone, I don't need-"

"Stop there!"

He turned, breath caught in his threat. The boy watch the towering paladin bustle through the crowds. No. He couldn't... how did he know? Why did he want him?

"STOP!"

He watched the lawkeeper leave its holster. Fear shot through the boy, a cold dread unlike any he had known. A paladin - an angel of vengeance, of death - was coming after him, gun drawn.

Coming to kill you, a voice whispered somewhere in his mind, to kill you...

He turned on his heels and sprinted as fast he could, pushing through the haze of smoke.
 
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