The address of the 'holding unit' Rockfield Bounties is employing directs the group to a dilapidated waterfront warehouse in Boston's industrial sector. The harsh glare of summer sunlight from overhead matched by the pungent reek of sewage, filth, and copious air pollution. Three armed men in anonymous black work within; one has a thick mustache, another has a crooked nose, and the last has a particularly thick neck. Crooked-Nose is first to respond to the group's arrival, lowering his weapon fractionally as he calls out: "Take it y' th' investigation team? Rockfield said you'd be comin' in. We got y' boy James," Thick-Neck and Mustache loiter at the edge of a cage that's been welded to the warehouse floor, within which James Wilkins sits on the barren floor.
A Deserted Warehouse
This building has seen much better days, and likely hasn't seen use at
all in the past two decades. The warehouse's floor has been cleared of refuse, and in the center, a holding cell has been put in place, with a steel cage firmly secured to the ground with bolts and a not-insignificant amount of welding.
A tear-streaked teenage boy with a mop of dirt-blond hair is sitting, chained up in the Warehouse's cage.
It is night, and about 65F(18C) degrees.
[ ] [ ]
Fenneke is standing here. Savannah is standing here. Leonidas is standing here.
Summer sunlight is -fading- overhead as night falls, of course.
"Hey... " Fenneke says quietly as she approaches the boy rather than offering much peer to the thugs holding him. "Hey, you okay? You look like you had a rough time. Want to talk for a bit and then we can get you home, okay?"
Savannah takes a moment to gather her bearings before glancing over to where Fenneke approaches the boy. Approaching slowly behind the blonde, she chews on her lower lip and studies the young boy curiously.
"What's there to talk about?" the tear-streaked boy blinks towards Fenneke, recoiling to sit back in the furthest corner of the cell. "Who are you people? Where am I? What is this?" he starts protesting. The thugs standing vigilant in the holding area just shrug, keeping their opinions to themselves, save for Crooked-Nose, who seems to have nominated himself the group's mouthpiece, who pauses to lift a slim black flip phone, which he opens, then sticks into a clip on his belt. "Jay said he'd be up and on his way in a jiffy. He uh. Just said he had something to take care of, first," the man notes, before turning to watch the group question James, and chew idly on a toothpick.
Leonidas holds his silence for the time being, glancing about at the cage curiously and the various thugs before peering through to the boy.
"I just want to ask you some questions, James. I promise, nobody is going to hurt you. You're just going to talk to us and tell us some stuff and then we'll get you nice and safely home," Fenneke says as she flicks glance towards the man with the toothpick, before focusing her attention the tear-stained boy. "You remember me? I'm Fenneke. And this is Savi and that's Leo. And we just want to know a little more about the Davis family, okay? Can you tell us anything about George? You probably knew him really well."
Savannah crouches down a little, getting more on the caged boy's level rather than loom over him. A friendly enough smile is offered to the boy though she remains quiet at Fenneke's side. After tucking a curl behind her ear, she casts another studying glance around the room.
"I want to go home," the boy proclaims sullenly, chin lifting so that he can peek up at Fenneke from beneath his mop of tousled blond hair. His eyes are a pale cornflower blue, and he shrugs a little. "I don't really know George much. I mean. From school. And Anna would talk about him a lot," the boy explains uncomfortably, hands fidgeting with each other. "George is kind of a jock. He uh. He plays football. And he's got kind of a temper. He picks on a lot of kids. Not really me. I think he left me alone because of Anna. But he's got a temper. There used to be a lot of rumors that he was on drugs. That he uh. Took steroids, for football."
Seeming somewhat encouraged by Savannah's smile, the boy sits up a bit more, adding, "But he kind of beat up most of the people that were saying that, and people stopped talking about him." He draws his knees up to his chest, folding his arms atop them, then asks, "Can I uh... can I tell you a secret?" uncertainly, gaze flicking between Fenneke, Savannah, Leonidas, and then the armed goons guarding the cage.
"Yeah? Steroids, huh? So he was really strong?" Fenneke asks quietly as she crouches down too, listening to the boy. "Do you think he'd ever get angry enough to hurt somebody?" She asks quietly, sort of crouching near the kid, her head tilted slightly.
"Yeah... please?" Fenneke says with a nod, her smile matching Savannah's as she kneels down.
"Really strong," the boy agrees again, shuddering slightly. "He broke a kid's jaw, once... but," the kid tightens the grip of his arms around his knees, huddling uncomfortably in the corner of the cell as he peeks through the bars at Fenneke and Savannah. "Anna told me once that he's a werewolf," the boy explains in a quiet hush. "And that was why he had such a bad temper. I don't know. I thought she was kind of crazy," he mentions, pulling his knees tighter and tighter to his chest until his fingers start to turn white. The pallid, tear-streaked boy leans in to hide the lower half of his face behind the tops of his knees.
"Did you ever ask her why she thought that?" Savannah finally speaks, her voice quiet and carrying a light southern twang as she gives a small bounce into her crouch, probably trying to stay up right.
"I see. So that's probably where he is right now," Fenneke says with a little sigh and a rock back on her feet. She listens, however, her voice dropping away.
"N-not really, no," the boy answers to Savannah, head turning to peer at Fenneke with a confused blink, before his shoulders lift in the faintest of shrugs, and then resume their uncomfortable slouching. He hugs his knees tighter to his chest, then asks: "Can I go now?"
"Is there anything else you can think of that might help us? James... did anyone you know in the cul-du-sac get hurt and then seem to recover really fast?" Fenneke asks as she watches the kid, still kneeling down near her. She settles her hands on her knees, chewing on her lip slightly.
Savannah gives up on the crouch an sits down in front of the cell, her legs crossing Indian style as she cocks her head faintly, her gaze filled with a keen interest on the boy's response.
"No," the boy answers succinctly, peering back and forth between Fenneke and Savannah, and looking increasingly confused, distraught, and unhappy. Disinterested in James Wilkins, Crooked-Nose gnaws at the tip of his toothpick, then spits it out to wonder, "Where the hell is Jay?" With impeccable timing, however, the doors open again, and Jay Davis is staggering through the doorway with a red-and-white cooler in hand. Following him in is the matronly figure of Janet Wilkins, handgun drawn on the ex-cop as she comes through the doorway. Her gaze wavers for a moment, darting towards James where he's caged at the center of the warehouse floor, and Jay starts to move, until she cocks her gun and he freezes in place under her sharp glare. "My boy didn't do anything!" the woman shrieks, brandishing the pistol at Jay. "Your little harlot of a daughter wasn't good enough for him!"
"Hey, oh, hey... " Fenneke says as she rises, lifting her hands defensively, her eyes a little wide. "Listen, lady, he's fine... we're just going to go ahead and let him go and you can take him home... " She watches Jay for a minute before looking back to the shrieking woman, subtly stepping in front of Savannah protectively.
Savannah starts to rise from her sit, but when the gun is waving around, she simply freezes in place and flicks her gaze between the woman and Jay before looking over at Leonidas and Fenneke.
Jay's grip on the cooler tightens until his knuckles pale at Janet's shrieking, and the tenseness in his posture and infuriated expression on his face give light to the struggle he faces in remaining still under-the-gun. "Open the cooler!" the crazed lady commands him in a high-pitched bark, gaudily-painted nails standing out in relief against the gun in her hand as she waves it back and forth menacingly between Jay and Fenneke. Following her instruction, Jay slides the cooler open, and even the gun isn't enough to keep him from dropping the cooler in shock. The plastic clatters to the floor, and out rolls the frozen head of a virile elderly man. "See!? I took care of your daughter just like I did my philandering scum of a husband!" she shrieks. Within the cage, James is cowering back against one corner. "Now let my grandson go."
Leonidas just looks kind of lost; a vein throbbing in his temple as he looks between Janet and Jay, and the cooler the man carries, shaking his head a bit. He sucks on one of his canines as he ponders the gun in the woman's hand and just stays quiet and still-- he too trying to stand in front of Savannah somewhat.
Once, twice, thrice the head bounces with a sick sound, rolling across the floor until it comes to rest with the frozen, flat surface of the severed neck flush to the floor. Pale, dead eyes stare up and over at Fenneke and Savannah when it comes to rest.
Jay doesn't seem to be the only one in shock as Leonidas's brows raise rather high when the macabre bouncing ball comes to rest, staring up at them.
Savannah blinks, seeming as to she's sitting on the floor, probably comes face to face with the bouncing head. All color drains from her face and with a knee jerk reaction, the head is lightly kicked away from Savannah as she presses back an inch or two against the cell.
"Oh... gross," Fenneke says with a wrinkle of her nose, and boy can she smell it. Her nose wrinkles up and she turns her attention to the crazed woman, tilting her head, saying, "So, that's a confession? When did you die?" Her hand begins to sneak to her purse, fingers slipping into it subtly.
Leonidas thinks; 'Well.. I suppose we were right about Janet then.. Jesus Christ.. why didn't we just take -her- in like originally planned... if we had just god damn tried to arrest Warren.. we would have found he was missing.. no one ever listens to me.. fuck sakes.-- and gross.'
Slack-jawed, Jay just blinks at the rolling head, hands lifting into the air in a helpless gesture of surrender after his clumsy dropping-of-the-ball. It takes him a second to drag his gaze away from the morbid image of the frozen head, and he turns to face the elderly woman. Janet has eyes only for Fenneke, for the moment, at least. A high-pitched laugh comes from her, and she brandishes the gun. "Do I look like I'm going to just turn myself in? Let my grandson go," the woman demands haughtily.
[Private to Fenneke] Between the severed head, the reek of the abandoned industrial building, stale smoke, and Janet's overbearing, over-applied perfume, it's hard to really tell if -she-'s decaying. Something smells rotten, though.
"I wasn't talking about turning yourself. I was talking about you... telling us your evil plan or whatever. Isn't that what you're supposed to do now?" Fenneke says as she remains where she is, before offering over to Leonidas, "Leo, can you free the kid?" Her hand keeps heading to her purse, gripping something inside, while her silvery blue eyes remain locked on the crazed woman. "Come on, tell us how it happened. You're never going to get away if you leave us alive... " She wrinkles her nose but keeps up that light sniffing. "Tell me how smart you were, how you're going to get away with it all."
Once the head rolls away from Savannah, she peers through Leonidas's and Fenneke's leg to the gun wielding woman, her eyes narrowing some. Her hand lifts and grips lightly against the back of Leonidas's pants as she slowly starts to pull to her feet.
"Hrrgh," the old lady huffs with equal parts irritation and disdain. All she has to offer to Fenneke is a haughtily screeched, "You're not nearly as clever as you think you are, you empty-headed little blonde tramp."
Still wearing something of a scowl, Leonidas glances away from the gun totting mad woman to Fenneke, jaw tensing a bit before he looks back to Savannah at the tug on his pants while she rises to her feet-- the back to the cage with James within it; once Savannah has found her footing he would mutter, "Sure. Love to." as he turns his eyes back on Janet while making towards the cage to try and determine how to open it-- wondering if the guards are still there because he missed a lot when his computer restarted.
"Or is it James? Is he the wight? Are you feeding him bodies?" Fenneke taunts, trying to keep the woman's attention as she subtly nods to Leonidas. "Tell me. Let me have it. If I'm not so smart, educate me."
Leonidas thinks; 'There is the go ahead. If I get this cage open.. i'm grabbing the kid.. and threatening to break his neck. She cares for him.. she won't want to see him hurt. We demand she drops the gun.'
Crooked-Nose and company have their guns aimed down on the elderly woman, though they seem content to hold their fire and remain at the ready, given the potential hazard of the hand-cannon the manicured old lady is brandishing. When Leonidas finds the door to the cage, he would find it secured with a keypad, and Crooked-Nose calls out to him, "The key is five-three-oh-nine." A second's uncertainty creases on the old lady's face at Fenneke's taunt, and she starts brandishing the handgun with more emphasis. "You shut your mouth, airhead. You're -beneath- me. And my James."
shifting a bit on her feet, Savannah squints down at severed head and gives it a quiet study as Leonidas walks off towards the cell.
"Eight six seven.. -five three oh nine-.." Leonidas half sings as his fingers hit the last four digits of the song; the man seeming all too at ease as he waits for the door to release-- his cool blue eyes seeming to have an even icier stare towards James.. some dark thought swimming about in their depths it seems.
Glassy, dead eyes study you right back. The head seems to have been frozen for a fairly lengthy stretch of time, making it difficult to judge the state of decomposition. It would appear to have been severed cleanly. Likely with a saw, or especially sharp kitchen knife.
"I'm beneath you? How am I beneath you? Because I have a heartbeat?" Fenneke continues her taunting, still angled to be right in front of Savannah, her sandal-clad feet almost kicking at the rolling head. "Tell me, lady, -how- are we beneath you? James died with his parents, didn't he? Or did he die after? Or did -you- die?"
(Privately)Once the gate is open; Leonidas would try to step into the cage and close it behind him-- making over to the boy and around him if possible to take his backside; his arm trying to cinch around the kids throat in a chokehold.
(to Leonidas) (Privately)Savannah slants a small glance his way, her fingers curling behind her back. When they curl, he can feel a small tug of her telekentic gift before she's slanting her glance towards the gun wielding woman with a tilt of her head.
Savannah curls her fingers behind her back, then stretches them out with a small wiggle as she shifts a small glance towards Leonidas then back over to the gun wielding lady with a small frown.
It would seem that Leonidas is intent on the cage, and James for the moment; his sole focus on the youth. Give that the numbers are indeed correct and the door releases-- Leonidas would step in and suddenly clsoe the gate behind him then make over the James-- taking his back if able, arm slipping around the youth's throat in something of a chokehold.
"Or maybe Jay's pill-popping wife just lost it and chopped her up into pieces," the old lady taunts right on back. "Or that little piece of work Fionna Fitzsimmons ripped her apart with her bare hands. Or maybe her thug of an older brother ate her. Why should I tell you anything?" the gun-wielding lady taunts right back. But for all her taunting, Fenneke's questions see their answer soon enough. As Leonidas punches in the keypad's code and steps into the opened cage, the boy recoils... at first. But when Leonidas gets too close, the boy lunges forward with surprising speed, chomping and tearing with the viciousness of an animal at Leonidas's shoulder. The lady trains her gun towards Leonidas and pulls the trigger, but her gun jerks to the side and her aim goes wide, blasting a gaping hole into Thick-Neck's shoulder, and putting five more rounds into the wall as she just keeps pulling the trigger until it goes 'Click-click'.
Whatever Fenneke was yanking for in her purse comes up empty as instead she pulls out... a bottle of beer. She tosses it hard against the once-weepy kid's head in a swinging motion, trying to land a solid connect to the kids skull while the woman is wide-swinging her shots into the thug. Should the broken bottle leave a jabby broken half-bottle if it lands, she'd try to hold onto it.
Fenneke slips an aquamarine smart phone into a pocket.
Fenneke gets a bottle of double IPA beer from small change purse shaped like a pear.
Fenneke gets a bottle of double IPA beer from a pocket.
"OoOooWw! Fuuuck!" Leonidas bellows as the gnashing little gremlin-- once believed to be a docile sniveling oboe player; aka James tears his teeth into Leonidas's shoulder the material of his vest and shirt doing little it seems as blood quickly begins to stain the fabric. With a concerted effort Leonidas tries to stave off the child-- perhaps aided by the launched bottle from Fenneke. He even uses the distraction to try and throw James off into a corner of the cell while a change begins to take him-- white fur errupting from his skin and a deep beastil snarl tearing from his throat.
Once the gun starts going clickety-click-click, Savannah throws her hand out towards the gun lady, and squints with concentration. A quietly mumbled, "Jedi mind-trick, psh," is uttered under Savannah's breath as she tries to hold the old woman in place, even lifting her an inch or two off the ground should she be able.
A staccato of gunfire is returned at Janet Wilkins, after her first, and only, salvo of bullets is fired. Her face bears an uncomfortable mixture of horror, distress, and contempt as one round lances through her shoulder, and the rest go wide. Perhaps inexplicably, her body suddenly rises, a few inches off of the ground, and she's unable to move as the guards cease fire, and hold their aim on the women. Save for Thick-Neck, who's sitting on his ass griping and trying to bandage his shoulder with his shirt. In the death-cage, the bottle makes contact, shattering into a myriad of shards that leave the boy's untidy mop of blond hair stained Fitzsimmons-red. He's dislodged from his bite on Leonidas's neck and his body goes flying into the wall of the cage with a loud clatter, as the man begins to change. All the while, the frozen head that Fenneke had kicked rolls on the floor, finally coming to a halt, now with dead eyes peering upon someone where she's trapped in place.
The eyes of the dead husband now gaze upon the crazy old woman brandishing a gun nearly bigger than she is, of course.
Fenneke tries to push the door of the cage closed again behind the retreated monster-kid, the broken end of the bottle brandished as a weapon as she hisses out a breath. She doesn't change for her part, but seems aware of Leonidas's changing. If she manages to shut the cage door and lock the kid back inside, her eyes would narrow on him for a moment.
Leonidas thinks he closed the gate behind him when he stepped in? Asking for clarification?
"Crap....Leo, you oka-- Uh," Savannah calls across as her attention shifts to the cell, though she keeps her hand trained on the floating woman. "Don't eat him, he probably doesn't taste very good," Savannah calls out towards the shifting man before looking to Fenneke with a blink.
Possibly already closed, Fenneke quickly sees that the door to the cage is truly secured, one way or the other.
Leonidas's face begins to enlongate, teeth growing and curving wickedly aswell from blackening gums. What once was pale skin has become a light layer of stark white fur and the clothes the 'man' wears begins to tear open and slide off as his frame increases in size. Hands become paws with vicious claws and the man-now beast's body surges with sinewy muscles-- coiling as though to spring towards the dastardly little cannibal-- intent on retaliation. It's truely a cage match now, and one will find out whose bite is worse than their bark.
Leonidas turns into a majestic, snow white lion with flowing mane and piercing moonstone eyes.
Fenneke slides a hand along the back of her dress and begins unhooking something under the silver fabric. With a little bit of a shimmy here and a smush there, she's tugging out her bra from an arm-hole of her dress. And then she heads towards the dangling woman, trying to grab her wrists if she can and tie her up MacGyver-style with the undergarment, wrinkling her nose and groaning, saying, "Lady, you wear -too- much perfume."
Fenneke removes a delicate violet lace bra and slips it into a pocket.
Savannah just kind of boggles at Fenneke and the makeshift cuff, her head tilting faintly, "You..We should buy you some cuffs or something." Her attention soon swivels back to someone and she calls out, "Just Sit on him, you weigh a ton.. C'mon, don't eat it.. It probably taste worse than zombie brains."
Rapidly finding himself in a role reversal with Leonidas, trading places in the grand hierarchy of the food chain, the boy has about enough time to stumble up to his feet before being pounced by the snow white king of the animal kingdom. Whether from desperation, or pure hunger, the oboe-playing cannibal claws at the sinewy form of the big cat, lunging in with his head to chomp at the taut flesh whenever able. Blood and torn-off skin drip and dangle from the boy's teeth, dyeing his chin crimson as he does his best to stave off his assailant. The over-perfumed elderly woman just glares down at Fenneke, flailing futilely with her emptied hand-cannon, as blood soaks through her over-priced dress, and drips where she's held above the ground for a second later, before she falls, staggering as feet hit the floor, crumpling to her knees as Fenneke binds her wrists with undergarments.
"You worthless tramp. How dare you. How -dare-," the woman keeps shrieking out bitterly as she's subdued. "He's just a boy. He's my boy. You leave him alone," she cries, tears starting to pour from her eyes as they set towards the cage match that begins in the center of the warehouse floor.
"Are you kidding? This is the -only- reason to wear one of these stupid things," Fenneke says over to Savannah as she continues trying to secure the old woman's hands with the scrap of surprisingly strong and feminine violet lace. She starts giggling despite someone' still awaited grudge-match with beastie-kid in the cage, "One time, my boyfriend was dressing up as a woman and asked to borrow one of my padded bras to break into -- you know, maybe I shouldn't tell this story. He might be mad. Point is, I don't own a padded bra and he was all shocked and stuff."
Once the woman is secure with that little bit of lace and has fallen to the ground, Savannah turns her attention fully to the cage match, muttering aside to Fenneke, "Psh, padded's the only way I can fill out anything," as she asses the situation before asking the blonde MacGuyver, "Do we let him eat him? Is that why we're here?"
"I...don't know. I mean, he's a super hungry wight kid. We can't just let him go out and be all wighty, can we?" Fenneke says as she keeps her hand on the old woman's neck, trying to press the grey head to the ground, her attention on the cage though. "He -ate- his girlfriend." She wrinkles her nose a little bit, lots of nose-wrinkling, probably because of the smell of death and blood and perfume all mixed together. "He's an eater, we can't just let him... go out or whatever. Check to see if she has any more bullets? Maybe we can shoot him in the head. Might be a little cleaner than letting Aslan eat him."
"Yeah...And it can't be too good for our Simba to chomp away on it.. No telling what kind of bacteria it carries," Savannah agrees with Fenneke as she moves behind the gray headed woman to check for bullets, "Just you know, wondering if I should throw the kid to the ceiling or not..Probably should, yeah?"
The peanut gallery seems to take some measure of amusement, from Fenneke's and Savannah's back-and-forth. Even Thick-Neck, once he's finished tearing his shirt into a makeshift bandage and wrapping it around his shoulder, barks out a laugh that's followed by a wince and whimper of agony. Old Janet Wilkins is easily enough manhandled by the not-especially-manly Fenneke, and a cursory search would find her hand cannon empty, and her person lacking in preparation for an extended firefight. Poor Warren Wilkins' disembodied head just watches helplessly, condensation dripping down his frozen face as dead blue eyes stare out at his bound widow.
It certainly seems that Jame's teeth only fuel the rage of Leonidas as he focuses his powerful jaws at seizing and clenching upon the youth's arms-- hand or fingers that lash back against him-- very likely trying to rip the damn things off like the youth is doing to his thick hide. His paw does its best to try and plant Jame's face into the ground while he mauls the stale dead-living corpse-- all the while snarling.
It quickly becomes apparent that young James Wilkins is unsuited for life on the wrong side of the food chain, and despite his efforts, or perhaps because of them, he quickly finds the lion's teeth clamping into his shoulder. Chomp. Rip. And screaming ensues, as Leonidas comes away with an arm caught in his mouth. The predator becomes the prey, and it's not long before what little resistance the boy put up is squashed as Leonidas renders him into a blood-soaked rag of dismembered meat laying on the warehouse floor, all while his poor grandmother watches, helpless, bound by Fenneke's undergarments.
"That's...not pleasant to watch," Savannah gulps and looks away from the bloody mess of the cage, "We should buy him a new toothbrush or something when we leave here." She looks to Fenneke then and asks, "Should we open the cage now?"
"Yeah, uhm, yeah... " Fenneke says with more than a little bit of a wince as she stares at the spectacle, all of her buoyancy left from her. "Can we get the police here? I mean, because 'James' was killed by a wild animal attack but Janet still needs to be taken in. She sends an imploring look to the ex-cop as she keeps the woman's head pressed hard against the cement ground. "Please, uh, get someone in here who can take her into custody? We know what happened to your daughter now.
(Privately)With a rage filled voice, Leonidas would reach out to Jame's mind-- pelting it with a vile tone as he mutters about how this is a fitting end for the bastard.. goading him about how it felt to be eatten, and now he knows how Anna felt.
Savannah moves away from the tied up woman and Fenneke before heading over to the cage. Humming the same tune Leonidas had sang earlier, she punches out the code to open the cell.
Stunned, through most of the events, Jay Davis watches grimly as his daughter's murder is avenged by the white lion, which quickly finds its fur matted crimson. "I... I guess the Hand's reputation for brutality is... well-deserved," the man observes, before the caramel-skin cop hardens his gaze, and turns towards Fenneke with a peer. "But... I'm glad you guys... sorted it out. What do you want done with Janet? I mean. For all I care, you could've fed her to her grandson. But I don't know if the police could really build... a case... on her. I'm not sure you really want the police out here, either..."
It's only when James stops writhing that Leonidas finally eases the weight off of the boy's head-- taking a step back with arm still held in his jaws-- though that is quickly thrown aside with a jerk of head. The severed appendage strikes the metal with dull fleshy sound.
What was once a pristine, white coat of fur upon Leonidas, is not stained a deep sanguine, both from his own blood and that of the torn and battered form of James-- which the catch still watches warily-- teeth bared and a low rumbling growl echoes in the cat's throat.
Savannah pales a little as Leonidas's bloody flung arm slings blood all over her, seeming as she's standing right there with the cell door open, "Leo! C'mon.. It's done.. Stop.. Don't make me get the laser pointer!" She then turns to Fenneke and squints a little, "Wouldn't the severed head of her husband be you know, enough for them to do something to her if you wanted to go that route?"
"We weren't trying to be brutal. It's just. Lion. Cage. Dead creature trying to eat a lion. What did you want us to do?" Fenneke asks as she sighs, looking down at the woman draped on the floor. "Listen, we don't really have a facility to keep this woman and she might... try to bring him back again or something. You sure you don't have connections to -get- her in jail without her actually... I mean, she shot that guy over there." She points to thick-neck, again looking back to the kid, explaining, "This just proves something I've thought before. Wights... they're not like vampires. They have to feed, eventually, and they'll eat people they care about."
"I don't want to hurt her. She's a terrible murderous person but I don't want to hurt her. James was already dead," Fenneke continues quietly, awkwardly, as she keeps the old woman held down. "I've never actually killed anyone."
Janet Wilkins slouches and crumples lower to the floor, when her grandson's unlife is ended by the white-maned king of the jungle. She weeps openly, body rocking back and forth despite bound hands. "My grandson... my boy..." she moans out pitifully. "Y-you people... what have you done? You filthy monsters." She keeps sobbing, falling face-first to the warehouse floor where she finds Warren's head, still staring her down. Jay lifts a shoulder. "I mean... I could call it in. But this is a lot of mess to clean up. James we could chalk up to an animal attack. But I don't think you want her talking," he gestures at Janet. "Best the supernatural community cleans up after itself, and leaves the cops out of it. Better that way."
It's only at the click of the cage door that Leonidas seems to finally pry his attention off of the still form of James, blinking as he comes back to reality from his violent spell. Pale blue-white eyes fix on Savannah and he looks from her to the re-dead boy, perhaps seeming a bit shocked at the amount of blood strew about the cell.
The change that had so suddenly taken Leonidas soon begins again; in reverse. His muzzle pulls back in forming mouth; those sabre teeth fading and becoming those winsome sparkly whites of his. His paws become hands and claws become nails. His tail retracts and his fur melts back into his body to leave him once again a man-- naked and reaching for the discard clothes-- soaked in his and Jame's blood.
Leonidas turns into an elegant young man with light skin and hair.
Leonidas gets A pile of an elegant young man with light skin and hair's belongings and straps it onto his back.
"I suppose we could just turn her over to Rockfield as an accomplice in the attacks," Jay offers after a protracted pause, taking a few steps over only to lash out with a vicious kick to the downed old woman's ribs, that results in a rather noisy, sickening crack, and a cease to her sobbing, shrieking, and crying. Instead poor Janet becomes preoccupied with coughing up blood onto the cold floor.
Leonidas thinks; 'Jesus.... what have I done.. I-- didn't mean to kill him.. I just.. I wanted to stop him..'
"They can get the whole story out of her," Jay admits, starting to warm to the idea after he steps away from the crumpled, grieving grandmother. "She's probably the only one left who really knows it, anyhow," he reasons, starting to nod over towards Fenneke.
"That, uhm, sounds good," Fenneke says as she stands, the woman bound by underwear and her own pain before the silvery-blue eyes track to Jay. "I guess... did you need us for anything else? We kind of got it figured out, I guess." She sends a troubled look to Savannah and Leonidas, all good humor drained out of her. "Yeah, I'd like to hear that later, although I think it'll take some serious doing to get her to talk. Do you mind if we get our lion home?"
"That sounds like a good idea," Savannah nods in agreement to the man as she moves in towards Leonidas. With a small frown creasing her brow, she asks the man, "Hey, you okay?"
"Uh... yeah. We'll uh. We'll clean this up," Jay agrees to Fenneke, shooting a terrified glance towards Leonidas, and turning to peer over towards Crooked-Nose, Thick-Neck, and Mustache.
Panting, Leonidas begins to slowly slide his sanguine stained suit on-- a bit wide eyed as he still ponders the motionless body in the cage with him. At Savannah's question he stammers, "I.. didn't mean to.." words trailing off for a few moments before concluding, "I just meant to.. hold him down.. and.. I lost it.. I didn't think that he'd.." his bloody hand coming up to pull his bangs away from his face, and painting the pale strands red.
"C'mon," Savannah murmurs to Leonidas as she moves in closer to his side, "Let's get you home and cleaned up and stuff..Then booze, lots of booze."
"Yeah, come on," Fenneke says as she edges towards Savannah and Leonidas, casting one last look of the scattered remains of the kid before shuddering a little bit. She starts to walk off, a part of the trio of 'victors'.
Leonidas is rather silently ushered out of the cage-- that is; he's rather quiet, still seeming bit dazed. The back of his sleeve comes up to wipe at his blood covered mouth-- the edges of it smeared with the dark ichor of the wight, from his tearing bites in his other form.
"Rockfield will wire the pay over to you guys. I uh. Look, I can't thank you enough," Jay Davis extends to the group. "I never would've thought James w--" he just shakes his head. "I owe you guys a favor, if there's ever a way for me to pay you back. You're all good to go. Thanks for bringing my daughter some justice," he offers, despite wincing when his gaze turns towards the gruesome blood-spattered cage.