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A deserted Crossroads,

Deep in the San Sebastien Swamp, Vibora Bay

Walpurgis Night 1936


Many place had a legends of places like this where one could sell your soul for the ability to play like a (fallen) angel, if only for a short but glorious time. On this night a young man, John Robinson, had dressed in his best suit and travelled out to the swamp guitar in hand. In the moonlight he could see a figure at the crossroad, a misshapen thing, though he should have expected something considering who he was expecting to meet tonight. Taking a breath he stepped onto the crossroads to meet the one he was sure that could help him achieve his goal.


He wasn’t sure what to except, but the woman that stepped into the light wasn’t want he expected. With her fancy extravagant hair, apparently not a hideous a beast in humanoid form, and her strange boyish dress it wasn’t the kind of girl you’d see even in the clubs of Vibora Bay.


Hi there we need to talk!”


Several Months plus Seventy odd years later…


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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Betsy hated a mystery, well that wasn’t true she loved mysteries but those were the kind she had the occult skill set to solved.


Hi, yeah it me again, did you manage to get a message through to any of our Municipal Heroes?” she should keep asking for help from the Mayors heroes but this was an emergency.


The mystery was one of those ones that needed a superhero style solution, the one that she really wasn’t part of even if she kept running into those kind of things in this city. Maybe for a quiet life she should go back home, supernatural menaces seemed to come out of the woodwork there as far as she could tell.


Yeah I’m still at my office if you want to remind them to pop by and help out.”

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It wasn't long before there was a knock on the door of the office. Marcus felt like he should have spent more time with Betsy. She knew more about the supernatural than he did, despite his connection to the Loa. And with everything that had happened on the night they all met... well, he should have sought her out. But everything happened so fast... or so slow. It was kind of difficult to tell some times, to tell the truth.


Ms. Brooks had called, so he came. If nothing else, Ogoun had been itching for him to do something lately, and this might let him punch something bad.

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Come on in, excuse the mess.”


The office was what you’d expect from a classic detectives office, full of papers of various sorts around a slightly battered desk. Feet up on the desk Betsy was as relaxed as you could be, and it wasn’t apparently something she’d just done for show. When Marcus opened the door she sat upright in her chair, a sliding motion much like how a cat would more. She got out a bottle of whisky and poured out two generous shot.


Please take a seat. Would you like a drink?”


She gulped one of the drinks and helped herself to a refill.

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Marcus stepped inside, carefully avoiding any of the piles. If she hadn't responded to him the moment before, he could've sworn that she had been sleeping. For his part, Marcus was in his costume, with a grey jacket over it. Not much to conceal his identity from people, but that didn't matter much anyway, did it?


"Sure, I'll drink." 


He took the seat, reached for the glass, raised it with a "Salut!" and emptied it. 


Marcus had to admit that he didn't know Betsy too well, but he hadn't expected her to be the type to drink like this. "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Brooks. So, what do you need?"

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Another drink and an offer of a refill was offered before Betsy finally got down to business.


Look I need you help with something… I am good at many things but I still don’t always know how to deal with the superhero stuff. Supernatural I can kick its arse, superhero stuff not so much.”


She slid an old faded black and white photograph from 1936 according to the pictures caption. The photograph show and old timey Blues band and off to one side, helpfully circled, was someone who looked very much like Betsy including her very distinctive jacket.


Not only superhero stuff but worse its time travel ****.”

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"Sounds serious. You don't really strike me as the type that likes asking for help." 


Marcus denied the next drink. No, one was enough. He wouldn't fall down that well again. He accepted the photograph however, and failed to suppress a smirk. 


"Sorry to disappoint, but its not like I've dealt with any time travel before, so I don't know how much help I'll be. Ogoun's powerful, but time's not exactly his domain."

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  • 2 weeks later...

The Immutable Betsy Brooks

I won’t stuffer fools gladly but if I need help I’ll ask for it, mamma didn’t raise no f***ing fool!”


Another drink though she wasn’t even a little buzzed yet, among her powers was apparently a liver of steel.


Think is I might need your other skills as well, that guy there…” she pointed to the main focus of the photo a guy with an old acoustic guitar


He’s Vibora’s very own dealer at the crossroad, we probably need to go there and see what went on there. Self fulfilling prophecy and all that, like I said I f***ing hate time travel.”

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"Alright. I'll help." Marcus would have helped anyway, of course, but he was good with Brooks knowing that time wasn't his thing.


He stood up, stretching his arms. "Let's go, then, and I'll play your muscle." 


Time travel, it sounded insane, but Brooks sounded like she had done it before. Was this what it was like to be a super hero, then? Had Marcus even scratched the surface of what might happen to him?

Edited by RocketLord
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  • 1 month later...

The Immutable Betsy Brooks

With one more gulp of whisky Betsy got up and pulled on her lucky, an only, jacket. As she did Betsy thought through her thoughts on how to proceed, however sure she sounded she was (mostly) always winging it.


Best not to use your boy, he’s a little capricious on the best of days and this might his deal. So we’re going to have to deal with another deity, unless you have a speedster on speed dial?” she paused and grinned before going back to her thoughts


Going to need an intermediary, I figure a Black Shuck will do, guess I’m getting a puppy now…” she turned and looked at Marcus looking pretty confident, however untrue that might be.


I’m going to need to gather some supplies, so I suggest you grab yourself a nice suit and a hat whilst I change my jumper! Best you blend in and I’ll be the distraction. Meet me at the crossroads of Wein and Wrightson just before midnight.”

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Marcus shook his head at the question on the speedster. It was a joke, of course, but you never knew in this little world of theirs. Honestly, he had trouble keeping up with Brooks, he knew little of the things that she spoke about. A Black Shuck, supplies... well, he could handle the nice suit and hat, at least. The style of the past might be more difficult, but he could probably do it.


"If you say so. I'll meet you there." He didn't have much else to say.




Half an hour before midnight, Marcus was at the crossroads. Of course it was the crossroads, where else would it be? He scoffed a bit at the thought, all made up in a nice suit with a nice hat. He had tried to match the style on the picture that Brooks had shown him as well as he could. It was not an easy task on short notice, but Marcus had resources. He had money. And that made the world go round, after all.

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

A couple of minutes to midnight a pickup truck pulled up and Betsy gave the driver a peck on the cheek before climbing out and collecting a large black dog, some kind of German Sheppard mix. She waved and strolled over the dog following behind before sitting between the two of them.


This is Barnabas he’ll be our guide for this trip. I picked him up at an ethical shelter, his poor old owner couldn’t look after him alas.” she thrust a big bunch of Lavender into his hands, trying to distract as she added “Your little super club might have made a generous donation to the place, y’all should be careful about leaving that kind of stuff laying around.”


She got out of her jacket pocket a scrap of paper with some words scrawled in a rough hand writing


Normally this would be a full ritual but we’re on a bit of a time crunch here, so I’m going for the short version. I had it translated at that amazing Greek restaurant, I recommend giving it a visit. When we get back!”


She glanced again at the paper before speaking


Γεια Ἑκάτη θα μπορούσαμε να χρησιμοποιήσουμε μια χάρη εδώ, αγόρασα ακόμη και τα αγαπημένα σας.”

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GM Post

Then nothing happened, and then that nothing had a young woman standing at the crossroads. She was Hispanic or Mediterranean appearing but her skin was so pale to shine in the moonlight, half of her bob was dyed black the rest of white, or maybe vice versa and as she moved her head different amount of light and dark flashed around her. She was dressed in a fairly gothy style all black with and festooned in jewelry all silver and moonstones. She also for a few minutes was apparently checking her phone, finally looking up at the two.


So you did!” she had one of those unplaceable accents “As the gentleman has apparently bought me flower let him explain why you’ve bought me here.” she had one of those look that you saw on cat pretending not to interested in there prey


She may not look like much…” Betsy risked leaning to whisper into his ear “That there is Hecate and I might have once called her up over girlfriend trouble. So be polite and very careful.”

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