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Thursday 2nd May, around midday


Liberty Park


The man was old, probably in his sixties, yet in good health. He had a health mop of white hair and leathered, tanned skin. He was dressed in a Linen suit, and one could only guess he had been a handsome man in his youth - he still held on to some silvered good looks and an easy charming smile. 


"Hello young man" he said, approaching Marcus. 


"Mr..Irons, isn't it?" he asked, bowing slightly. "I am Doctor Lake. No, not a medical doctor.." he chuckled. "Just a humble student of history..."


He mopped his brow with a handkerchief in the hot May sun. He wore a broad sun hat, but still, the sun was high in the sky. 


"Taken me a while to find you, Sir" he explained. "I thought I should bring something to your attention. I keep my eyes and ears open, you see, and I know more than a thing or two about the myths and occultism of the past. If I am not mistaken, you have a smack of that about you, am I right?"


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Marcus was on a new sketchbook. By now he'd finished his portfolio and had submitted it to a number of schools, but that didn't stop him from drawing. It was a nice break from everything else that had gone on in the past few months, and there was something to be said for the quiet moments when they were as elusive as this. 


He didn't notice the older gentleman approaching him. Rather, he didn't pay him any immediate mind. It wasn't as if he was a physical threat, after all. His pencil stopped mid-stroke, however, at his name being spoken. Marcus looked up, didn't recognize the voice or the man to whom it belonged, and a skeptical eyebrow rose.


"I'm sorry.. do I know you?"


There was a certain amount of defensiveness to his tone, but to his credit, Marcus was trying not to be rude. He wasn't even sure how this person knew him--somehow that seemed incredibly important.

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GM "No no" chuckled Doctor Lake. "Well, I would guess not. Unless you read dusty old history texts and journals that I rarely submit, and not so rarely get rejected by" he said with good humour. "I'm considered a bit of an eccentric, even by my peers, you see. A good word or two by Adrain Eldritch keeps my reputation afloat, such as it" he said, looking thoughtfully at Arcturus. "So all I have is suspicions and hunches. And I have one now. Which might concern you. A detective Chance is snooping around an old Junkyard near Wharton State Forest. And she is visiting a very interesting young...or perhaps old, lady. One Lucy Harker. Better known, I believe, as Revenant...And, young man, I don't trust her..."

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The mention of Adrian Eldritch was all Marcus needed. It meant two things: that the good doctor knew more or less who he was and what he could do, and he should probably be taken seriously. The cover of Marcus's sketchbook clamped shut. This sounded like it was going to be one of those 'things that bump in the night' cases, and now he was wondering if the Master Mage was deliberately steering him towards those. Not that he minded... a little heads up would have been nice.


"Alright," he said, standing up and stretching a little. "You got my attention. But... why me?"


It was true that Marcus was no stranger to the supernatural and the occult. He figured it best to probe just what the doctor knew about him before committing to anything, if for no other reason than to keep his expectations realistic...

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"Why indeed?" chuckled the Doctor. 


"Because of hints, because of clues. I don't know if you are aware, but Wharton forest and the area around it have been the site of more than a few native American burial sites. And more of a few of them have spirits and charms to protect them, or hide them. And the good Detective Chase is interested in them. I don't trust her" he explained. 


"As for you, well, I know you can handle yourself, and are trustworthy. But more importantly, it's the beast rune. I guess - and it is only a guess, that you have that brand at the moment? and I'm sure you are worthy of it, although it has seemed as much a curse as a boon from my limited understanding of it. Well, I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that certain histories hint that the Beast Rune was known to the native american's. Perhaps they even used it. I can't be sure of course, this is all just crackpot theories from an old man..." he said, with a broad smile. 

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"To be fair, I probably don't understand it any better than you do," Marcus admitted with a nonchalant shrug, "But I still don't get what this Detective Chase person is after. If she's after the Beast Rune, why not come to me directly?"


Marcus paused for a second; it was possible that this detective didn't have the information that the doctor had. Still, he didn't like that her info led her to someone he didn't know, which meant he was missing something. 


He also couldn't help but feel like the doctor was probing him for information about the Beast Rune himself, likely for research purposes. It wasn't a huge secret or anything, but he'd been far more careful about who he discussed magical subjects with ever since he'd first encountered the Cult of the Beast down in Freedom City's sewers.


"I'm gonna need a lot more detail than suspicion. No offense."

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"I'm gonna need a lot more detail than suspicion. No offense."




"My thoughts exactly" replied Doctor Lake, giving his customary chuckle. 


"I have no detail to offer, unfortunately. All I know is that there is this Junkyard, Goodman's Junk, in the West of Freedom. Nothing unusual about that, except two things. One, there is every indication that it is a burial site for native Americans, and Two, Detective Chance has taken an extremely keen interest in it. And I suspect she has found something. Or, more precisely, she wants something, the way her feverish interest has taken hold of her..."


"Quite why she has gone to Revenant, I do not know" he shrugged. 


"So there you have it. I'm not asking you to do anything. All I'm asking is you to spy, I guess. To find out that detail we both want. To make sure nothing happens. Because by my understanding of the history, whatever was buried there might have something to do with the Rune..."

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Marcus sighed, masking deeper frustration. He wasn't exactly a stealthy individual. Not that he wasn't capable, but even without the aggressive nature of the Beast Rune, he was much more inclined to direct confrontation. He'd done so much tiptoeing in the last few months that part of him was getting a little restless. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket and nodded.


"Right. But what's in this for you exactly? You don't even know me and you're asking me to spy on someone else... as if my saying yes was some sort of foregone conclusion."


He straightened up a little bit and looked squarely at the Dr. Lake. Marcus wasn't entirely sure how much the doctor knew about the Beast Rune--or him, for that matter. Just how much did the good doctor go through to actually locate him? For all he knew, he was walking into a trap. Not that he wasn't going to go to this junkyard, of course. If he and the Beast Rune had anything in common, it was that neither liked to be caged or controlled.

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"Me? I want to sleep well at night" explained Dr. Lake. "Pardon my frankness, but the myths of the beast rune are disturbing to say the least. Why, there was one from Persia that described the complete slaugh..."


"Ah yes, but I forget myself" he smiled. 


"I have little in this world but my knowledge. Responsibility, I give to others!" he said, and looked like he meant it. "You can do with what I give you as you wish, of course. I am hardly in the position to insist. But what I can give is advice. Something fishy is afoot, and I suggest you find out what it is..."




Lucy Harker's apartment was not hard to find, for a detective in the know. And Detective Amy Chase was just such a detective. At first glance, she looked like she had walked straight out of a glamorous detective show. She was till, beautiful, slim, and had an attractive crop of short and stylish jet black hair that complemented the mirror shades she wore as a habit. Her clothes were stylish, just the right mix of cool and professional. 


On closer glance, there was a steel to her. Maybe intelligence, no, a more accurate description would be a drive. And a scar running down her face, from the brow to the upper cheek, marred - or perhaps augmented - her natural beauty. 


She pressed the doorbell with insistence. 


"Lucy Harker? This is Detective Chase, Freedom City Police. I need to talk to you urgently"

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Lucy didn’t pose much of an imposing figure she was short and didn’t appear more than a pretty young thirty year old woman, if not a little on the pale side, until you got to her eye’s two pits of pure darkness. It all seemed at odds with her warm friendly smile.

“Hello there Detective Chase, please excuse my dress I was having a bit of a lazy day.â€

She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a Flag’s baseball shirt and a pair of sneakers which despite any instance she’d just thrown it on still looked good on her. Out of habit, having dealt with vampire’s for the last couple of year, she didn’t invite the detective into the house. Once the Detective had entered she was once again the ideal host guiding the other woman into the lounge.


“So detective what can I help you with?â€

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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Detective Chase sat down in a cool, relaxed manner, crossing her legs but keeping her shades on, her eyes impenetrable. Through her clothes, Revenant spied the bulge under her jacket, and the momentary glimpse of dull steel. The woman was armed. Probably normal for a detective, but even so, this woman was taking no chances. 


"I need your help. Don't know many superheroes, to be honest, but being as you kinda practice law, and help out locally, we got your number down the station. I heard you even worked with those fools down in the Fens, Harry the Hound. Yeah, I remember him from a few years back. Scruffy, lazy, unprofessional. Force won't miss him even if he did have a knack of catching the odd crook.." she said, voice slick without any gabbling. It was a voice that would suit the draw of a cigarrete for artistic reasons - except Det. Chase didn't smoke. She was too much of a health freak for that. 


"I got wind of something down at Goodman's Junkyards. Normally good guys. They don't do the normal work on stolen cars that we get every now and again from dealers like that. Got a good reputation. Now, I got a few complaints. They got unfriendly, stopped doing regular business, turning every one away, even threatening them. For about a month now. All legal, technically, but it gets me to wondering...how they still afloat? what nasty piece of business are they doing? whats the deal?"


"I cant get a warrant. But I could do with someone who knows the law and is a superhero at that. I got a nose for trouble, and I'd like to check this place out, as it stinks bad..."

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Marcus tried not to look annoyed. He wasn't really sure what the doctor knew, but he'd heard the story of the Beast Rune from a reliable source--the Beast Rune itself. It felt like, in a sense, he'd been having a conversation with himself, and it remained one of the most surreal things he'd ever encountered from his magical birthright.


"There's more to it than just carnage and violence," he said calmly, starting to walk and pausing for a moment to be sure Dr. Lake would follow. "All the rage and anger you probably read about? Probably nothing more than fear. That's where this really started... just a regular guy who was tired of being scared of the dark everything lurking in it. It wasn't his fault people tried to copy and perverse that. Lycanthropy? Just one of many consequences of not getting it... so there's really no telling if the tales you've heard are from the True Rune or just another unfortunate fake."


He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to go on a rant of his own. The history of the Beast Rune was, indeed, quite a subject, and Dr. Lake had been scratching at a rather multi-faceted surface. "But I'll check this junkyard out for you, I guess. Couldn't hurt."

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Lucy didn’t have any reason to doubt what the Detective was saying all that bothered her was that this could be some kind of elaborate setup. The whole deal was a legal grey area and if thing went wrong she’d be the one on the wrong side of the law. but there was really only one way to find out for sure. She didn’t let any of her concerns show, but instead gave the Detective a smile.

“Of cause Detective Chase I’d be happy to help if you want we can go now I just need to go get my coat.â€


She hoped she wouldn’t get into any trouble this time the problem with heroing was that it played hell with her clothes.

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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In the park


Doctor Lake struggled to keep up with Arcturus, despite being fairly fit for a man of his age. 


"Thank you. And keep me informed" he said, scrawling his number on a post it note and slapping it to Arcturus. "I don't know what's going on, just keep your eyes and your ears open"...


At the Junkyard...


Goodman's Junkyard was not in the best of shape. It had a few notices in peeling paint, and the buildings were a little aged. But it wasn't a total wreck. The junk looked fairly ordered, and the mesh fence around it looked pretty new and sturdy. A "Beware of the dog" sign hung outside, although it wasn't clear if it was a piece of scrap or a genuine warning, it was so old. 


The place didn't exactly looked guarded, either. There was a half-asleep man in a dirty jumpsuit, smoking a roll up and leafing through a disreputable adult magazine in a bored way just inside the entrance, the flask of coffee by his side not doing much to prop the man's eye open. 


"Looks like they paid for the best in security" said Detective Chance, her eyes unseen behind her mirror shades. She fingered the large and old steeled gun under her jacket. 


"But I guess I wont be needing that" she said, half with relief, half with dissapointment. 


"Now, I want to know what the hell is going on there, when they haven't taken or sold any scrap for a month..." she whispered. 

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It took a lot to shock Lucy and for a woman out of time she was quite accepting of thing considered risqué back in her own time. So she walked over and calmly looked at what the guard was reading.


“No wonder she lying down I’m surprised she can even stand with those.†She stood there with a broad smile, allowing the man to recover his composure.


“I was wondering if we could go and take a look around the junkyard? It won’t take long I promise.â€


Sometime it was worth trying the direct approach, it the modern era it tended to confuse people.

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"You should probably give me your phone number," Marcus mused, taking his phone out of his pocket, "and maybe an address where I can reach you after I find out what's going on... shouldn't take me long."


When Marcus made it to his car, he hopped into the driver's seat, tossing a half-dozen books off the passenger seat into the back. It wasn't the most glamorous thing in the world--it was riddled with rust spots and there was a tiny crack in the windshield--but it was his, and that was what mattered. From there, it was off to the junkyard...

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The bored man at the gate snorted his coffee up his nose, which ejected from his face in two neat streams whilst he gagged and tried to snap shut his magazine all at once. 


"Wha--who---where---when---?" he chortled through an inflamed mucosa. 


"I---I---mean, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, red faced despite best intentions. 


"I m-m-mean the Junkyard is closed...ummm, we ain't taking no more stuff, leastways not without the Boss sayin' so" he gagged, a hint of recovery emerging. 


He cast his eyes down to the magazine that lay open on the floor at his feet, displaying something that swiftly murdered the fragile recovery he was making. 


"Ahem..I mean yeah, sure, go ahead and see the boss...." he coughed, nudging the magazine closed and pointing at the wooden hut in the centre of the junkyard. 


"I'll *cough* just, err, clean up my coffee..." he said pointedly, indicating the undisturbed and intact flask at his feet. 

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Marcus pulled up at the Junkyard with Dr. Lakes mobile written on a scrap of paper, hastily produced by the good Doctor himself before their departure. 


"I only want to know what's happening...just to be sure...so I guess I'm asking you to spy!" he had finished with, complete with a knowing wink and a friendly smile. 


"Trust nobody! even me!"


To Marcus eyes, the Junkyard looked pretty much as a Junkyard should, except the surprising lack of activity. He just caught a surprised man jumping out of his seat and splurting coffee everywhere when approached by Revenant. As he turned off the motor, he saw Revenant stride away, and the man scrabble around the floor for his magazine, which he promptly rolled up and stuffed into his dungarees well out of view, checking to see nobody had seen him...

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The lack of activity didn't necessarily bother Marcus, but he knew that it was out of place. Stuffing Dr. Lake's note into his jeans pocket, he watched Revenant for a moment, unsure of who exactly she was. He'd never met her before--for all he knew, she could've been Detective Chase. Either way, he was on his guard, both physically and mentally.


Stealth was pretty much out the window, though he hadn't ruled out the idea of simply disappearing and coming back again. Stepping out of his vehicle, he approached the man with the rolled-up magazine.


"...'ey. You in charge here?"

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"...'ey. You in charge here?"


The man had another shock. 


"What the hell is going on today? We are closed, man! closed! can't you see?" he said, waving his arm around the Junkyard. 


Something about the ground didn't look quite right to Marcus. It shifted and cracked, and looked fresh. Someone - or something - had been excavating underneath the Yard. 


"Two visitors today. What gives? And no, I'm not in charge. The boss is...in there. Gordon Goodman. As in, Goodman's junkyard. He hardly see's anyone, and already got some lippy broad barged in to see him today" he gulped, tugging at his collar. 


"So, what you here for? We ain't buyin' and we sure ain't sellin'" he said, cautiously examining Marcus with a beady eye. 

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Marcus frowned, almost tuning the guy out entirely. Typically the ground in a junkyard was pretty solid--it was a dumping ground, not a digging ground. "If you're closed, a better question would be 'why are you here? But I guess I can ask your boss that myself..."


He started to turn towards where the woman had gone, glancing back at the man one more time. "...unless you'd like to tell me what you're digging for here."

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"Hey man, stop right there!" said the man, pulling out a spanner - presumably as some kind of improvised weapon - from his dungarees. 


He was a bulky man, but it wasn't just fat, it was blue collar labouring muscle. And although he clearly wasn't a skilled fighter, he looked like he had been in a fight or two. 


However, Marcus was bigger, and stronger. The man hefted his spanner in a shifty manner, not keen to fight someone of Marcus' build. 


"And who the hell said we wuz diggin?" he asked, lies whistling through a moderately poor set of teeth. 


He took a look at a rusty iron bell hanging amongst the piled junk. A warning sign, of some sort, presumably. 


And turned to dash for it!

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Being threatened didn't exactly earn the man any congeniality awards. The Beast Rune responded almost immediately, and Marcus could all but sense hostility, deception, and then panic in a matter of moments before he turned to run for the bell.


"Son of a..." Marcus darted forward and his form instantly changed midstride as he reached to grab the man by the collar, hopefully before any real trouble began.

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Lucy scanned the junkyard as they made their way across to the yards offices. Whilst she hadn't been in many Junkyards in her life she knew enough to spot where they seemed to be digging. The Steam Shovels and such like seemed to be very capable of carrying out their assigned task. She nudged the Detective and pointed toward the vehicles.

“It looks like there digging for something. Any idea of what could hidden under this Junkyard?â€

The last she remembered this part of the city hadn’t even been built up yet, it couldn’t have been anything from back in her own times.

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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"Beats me" replied Detective Chance, pulling Revenant along to the main hut where "Gordon Goodman" was said to reside. The outside of the hut was chipped paint and a little woodrot, but inside, through the window, it looked pretty neat. 


"But if they are digging, then I want to know why" she muttered, her voice focussing down to a steel. "Aside from anything else, they got no permit to do that, at least, not one I know of. Which would give us a reason to get an arrest warrant and turn this place over. Incidentally, we haven't got an arrest warrant, bear that in mind. I don't mind bending the law a little, but not too much. I am still a police officer, y'know!" she said. 


"So lets go and meet this mysterious Gordon. A man who runs a successful Junkyard without buying or selling anything..."

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