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Content Notice: Character Death

Date: November 6, 2017

Location: Phantom's Sanctum Sanctorm in North Bay

 

For once, it was a quiet Monday for Taylor. Halloween was always a busy time for her line of work, but the week afterwards, she'd come to expect the lull. Today, that happened to coincide with a day off with her boys' schools. Sprawled on her stomach on the large rug of her library, Taylor's brow furrowed as she tried to stay ahead of JJ in their lego assembly project. The latest addition to the haunted castle line was halfway assembled, but where Taylor wanted to follow the directions to the letter, her youngest had a tendency to... improvise.

 

"I don't think that goes there," she told the seven year old at his efforts to attach the constructed wall to the top of the tower. 

 

"It'th better defenceth!" JJ lisped only to scowl as he heard the distortion that his fangs made to the words. With his brows creasing, he enunciated carefully with a seven year old's scorn, "What kinda keep has open access like that. It's just asking to be caught by surprise."

 

"Well-- hrk-"  Whatever Taylor had meant to say was lost, her voice falling from human into the otherworldly echo it took on when she released her hold on Prime. JJ's eyes could only widen as his mother froze in place, her body flickering almost frantically, as if she couldn't quite sync in with Prime as all the barriers between Here and Other failed for one awful, terrifying moment. Even at seven, JJ's other senses were established enough to feel the danger even if he didn't know what it was, or what caused it. As he'd been trained to since he was old enough to understand, JJ did exactly two things;

 

"DAAAAAAAAAD!"

 

And then the seven year old dhampir vanished into the Void, exactly as he was supposed to in case of a potential invasion of Prime.

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Avenger had crossed the house by the time the echoes died - and for a moment found himself standing there with absolutely nothing to do, nothing to think, other than mortal dread and loss. He could smell the empty room, the empty house, and knew by now the faint aftereffects of magical travel and how utterly helpless he was to do anything about it. This was an enemy he couldn't fight, couldn't fix, couldn't buy off or intimidate. But the great thing about the life he'd built for himself in the past decade was that he didn't _have_ to do any of those things - he had friends who could. Standing there in the middle of his wife's lair (as he so often thought of it), he slowly and carefully took his brand-new phone from his pocket and sent the wordless "Emergency - Come Here!" signal to the two people he knew and trusted the most to deal with magical threats like whatever had made his son disappeare. Comrade Frost - and his son. 

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Thanks to the vagaries of time and distance within the void it was only moments later that Huang emerged from the 'Back Door' of the manor peering out with an incantation on his lips to check the house for danger before he pulled his younger self through as well and back into reality from the void where he had retreated.  "We're back here."  he called out less to alert his father that they were safe than to warn him they were about to enter the room where he was doubtless on edge.

 

"Hey you ok mini me?"  he asked again as he led JJ into the next room possibly more for Jack to hear than himself.   "Mom'll be back soon ok?"   he promised and turned to his father and succinctly explained, "Eldrich is dead."  he held up a hand and pushed through, "I don't know exactly how."  he shrugged, "But with on apprentice I can only think of one person the Powers would tap in an emergency."  He gestured finally to his mothers still cooling drink on the end table.

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"Dimitri is on his way," said Jack after a moment's hesitation. "He'll cover things here - he can always take the building into Niflheim if he has to. You do what you have to do to support your mother - and stop whatever killed Eldrich." He'd only met the Master Mage a few times, said worthy not being a great admirer of the vampire's personal style, but he knew all the good the man had done - and what sort of things caused wizards of over a century in age to die. He clapped the man that was his son on the arm and looked him dead in the eye. "Make me proud, son." 

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