EuAngelias
Active Member
Alice sits in her office, perched on her white leather chair. Her desk was clear of work, leaving a clear swath of glass surface. A portable table had be set up to the side of the room, a white sheet over a long lump.
She waits.
Mouse sits in the security room, heavy wires plugged into the various ports along her head and neck. To the techs in the office the little pink haired girl might be dead and more than once they have called wondering why she plugged into the security systems. After a few hours, she stands up with a frown and disconnects the cords, a quick flash of pink lighting and an e-mail pings to Alice's desktop " sorry didnt find anything incredible, just that they seemed to know where they were going, no deviation or searching as they went, and they killed almost all of the camera's. I will clean up what I can and send it to you. Mouse"
Grace arrives in short order, as she said she would. She can be seen clearly on any outside security cams approaching, hands up, displaying that she is holding nothing. She is also outside of her standard wardrobe of leather coat and baggy clothing, replacing the usual with a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt. The only remainder is her silver cross necklace.
She approaches the building, allowing security teams to take her into custody without complaint and direct her to - well, wherever it is she's going to be staying for the moment.
Jericho meets her at the door, and at a signal, the security men nod to her and leave. He's in black t-shirt, jeans, combat boots, and his shades. He also wears his double shoulder holsters with twin .45s across his broad chest. For some reason, she gets the impression he just got back from the field. "Thanks for coming, Ms. Mereland." There's no pat down, he does not show any distrust. He simply leads her up the stairs and into the fancy glass-walled office of Alice Glenisle.
"Thanks for letting me walk here, honestly," she says quietly with a sort of half-smile. She follows him, folding her hands in front of her and waiting, once they reach Alice's office.
"You'll understand why she's mad in a second. But it's not at you, really." He opens the door for her, and follows her inside. "Here we are, ma'am."
Alice smiles. She sits as if she's been waiting for Grace and only Grace.
"Grace. Thank you for joining us. We're waiting on Ian. He'll be here shortly. But first, you know that a Templar named Doyle had been kept under protection? I did not. His body was found lifeless when I came in this morning. According to security footage, two gasmasked individuals broke in, killed him, and left. Apparently."
The blond woman raised a brow at Grace. She appeared to be waiting.
She nods once, at Alice. "I had assumed my request for a holding cell would have had to cross your desk, ma'am. I apologize for not having kept you appraised." She shifts, briefly. "I also did not and do not consider him a Templar. As a Witch Hunter, I have limited authority to suspend those under suspicion - As he was, and as I did. However, I did not anticipate his demise, nor did I intend for this to be a permanent measure. His association with the Dawnbreak placed him at risk within Temple Hall, and I wanted the full story first and foremost."
She frowns, looking chagrined. "For whatever it may be worth, ma'am, I apologize for any problems I have caused you with this situation."
Alice folds her hands on the desk. She continues to smile. "Ah, then it was my own mistake that overlooked that request. How silly of me." She raised a brow. "You don't consider him a Templar? But what of the Hall? What do they think?"
The blond woman made a little shrug. "Ah, it matters not, really. What I am curious about is that."
Alice gestures to the object covered by the sheet to the side of the table.
"Kindly have a look that, dear?"
"The Hall agrees, as far as I know...like I said, I put him here to prevent ..well. this thingexactly." At the suggestion though, she nods, stepping lively over to the sheeted object and carefully pulling the sheet off.
It was a log. One that Grace should find familiar.
"Intern XY tells me that she can smell you on it."
Grace furrows her brow, staring at the log. "I... don't understand," she says slowly. She looks back to Alice, expression puzzled. "I thought that was Doyle..?"
Blake stays quiet, his face neutral, throughout the exchange, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. He pays close attention, though.
"This was Doyle. Or rather, Doctor Zurn watched this turn from Doyle to this."
Alice raised a brow. "Do you know any fae, Grace?"
"Not that I'm aware of?" She glances at the log again, her lips dropping into a bemused frown. "How do I tell if I know a fairy," she asks, directing her vision towards Alice once more.
"Hmm. Okay. Why does this log have your scent on it?" Alice tried a different tact.
"I don't know, why does it?" Her tone by now is pure confusion, and it sounds like she actually thinks Alice knows.
"You know anyone with green hair?" Blake asks quietly.
She peers around at Blake. "Well, I guess, yea-" She knits her brow, again. It all clicks. "...Oh, fuck me." She scrubs a hand through her hair. "...okay. But- But. Why would- I can feel the frustration headache rolling in..."
She waits.
Mouse sits in the security room, heavy wires plugged into the various ports along her head and neck. To the techs in the office the little pink haired girl might be dead and more than once they have called wondering why she plugged into the security systems. After a few hours, she stands up with a frown and disconnects the cords, a quick flash of pink lighting and an e-mail pings to Alice's desktop " sorry didnt find anything incredible, just that they seemed to know where they were going, no deviation or searching as they went, and they killed almost all of the camera's. I will clean up what I can and send it to you. Mouse"
Grace arrives in short order, as she said she would. She can be seen clearly on any outside security cams approaching, hands up, displaying that she is holding nothing. She is also outside of her standard wardrobe of leather coat and baggy clothing, replacing the usual with a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt. The only remainder is her silver cross necklace.
She approaches the building, allowing security teams to take her into custody without complaint and direct her to - well, wherever it is she's going to be staying for the moment.
Jericho meets her at the door, and at a signal, the security men nod to her and leave. He's in black t-shirt, jeans, combat boots, and his shades. He also wears his double shoulder holsters with twin .45s across his broad chest. For some reason, she gets the impression he just got back from the field. "Thanks for coming, Ms. Mereland." There's no pat down, he does not show any distrust. He simply leads her up the stairs and into the fancy glass-walled office of Alice Glenisle.
"Thanks for letting me walk here, honestly," she says quietly with a sort of half-smile. She follows him, folding her hands in front of her and waiting, once they reach Alice's office.
"You'll understand why she's mad in a second. But it's not at you, really." He opens the door for her, and follows her inside. "Here we are, ma'am."
Alice smiles. She sits as if she's been waiting for Grace and only Grace.
"Grace. Thank you for joining us. We're waiting on Ian. He'll be here shortly. But first, you know that a Templar named Doyle had been kept under protection? I did not. His body was found lifeless when I came in this morning. According to security footage, two gasmasked individuals broke in, killed him, and left. Apparently."
The blond woman raised a brow at Grace. She appeared to be waiting.
She nods once, at Alice. "I had assumed my request for a holding cell would have had to cross your desk, ma'am. I apologize for not having kept you appraised." She shifts, briefly. "I also did not and do not consider him a Templar. As a Witch Hunter, I have limited authority to suspend those under suspicion - As he was, and as I did. However, I did not anticipate his demise, nor did I intend for this to be a permanent measure. His association with the Dawnbreak placed him at risk within Temple Hall, and I wanted the full story first and foremost."
She frowns, looking chagrined. "For whatever it may be worth, ma'am, I apologize for any problems I have caused you with this situation."
Alice folds her hands on the desk. She continues to smile. "Ah, then it was my own mistake that overlooked that request. How silly of me." She raised a brow. "You don't consider him a Templar? But what of the Hall? What do they think?"
The blond woman made a little shrug. "Ah, it matters not, really. What I am curious about is that."
Alice gestures to the object covered by the sheet to the side of the table.
"Kindly have a look that, dear?"
"The Hall agrees, as far as I know...like I said, I put him here to prevent ..well. this thingexactly." At the suggestion though, she nods, stepping lively over to the sheeted object and carefully pulling the sheet off.
It was a log. One that Grace should find familiar.
"Intern XY tells me that she can smell you on it."
Grace furrows her brow, staring at the log. "I... don't understand," she says slowly. She looks back to Alice, expression puzzled. "I thought that was Doyle..?"
Blake stays quiet, his face neutral, throughout the exchange, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. He pays close attention, though.
"This was Doyle. Or rather, Doctor Zurn watched this turn from Doyle to this."
Alice raised a brow. "Do you know any fae, Grace?"
"Not that I'm aware of?" She glances at the log again, her lips dropping into a bemused frown. "How do I tell if I know a fairy," she asks, directing her vision towards Alice once more.
"Hmm. Okay. Why does this log have your scent on it?" Alice tried a different tact.
"I don't know, why does it?" Her tone by now is pure confusion, and it sounds like she actually thinks Alice knows.
"You know anyone with green hair?" Blake asks quietly.
She peers around at Blake. "Well, I guess, yea-" She knits her brow, again. It all clicks. "...Oh, fuck me." She scrubs a hand through her hair. "...okay. But- But. Why would- I can feel the frustration headache rolling in..."