What Mystery's Lie in a Dead Man's Eyes

[Crowley]

It was a mild January morning in Laguna Beach, California. The sun has just begun to creep above the horizon and while the residents of the city were still sleeping, the sound of sea birds echoed along the sandy stretch. One bird, however, did not make a sound. While the white gulls dipped lazily to and fro, it moved inland quickly and with purpose. Certainly if anyone had been awake to observe this bird, they would have thought it odd to see a raven arriving from the sea. In actual fact, it had come from Illinois, by way of the spirit world known as the Umbra, and had simply misjudged its destination and ended up a couple of miles too far east.

It wasn't often that Kristopher Crowley made cross-country trips through the Umbra on a whim – and this particular instance was no exception. His arrival in California had been prompted by the receipt of a message detailing a bizarre series of attacks in the Laguna Beach area. The victims had been brutally mauled, apparently by a wild animal of some kind – or at least that's what the news reports said. A quick search on the web had revealed some rather gruesome images of the bodies, with wounds that no normal animal could be responsible for. As Crowley soared high above the empty streets of Laguna, he couldn't help but feel anxious. Something was amiss and it seemed it would be down to him to find out what.

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

While the majority of Laguna Beach might have been asleep, there was at least one early bird up and about. Freshly woken by a hit or two of caffeine, Penny Lloyd-Fraser sat over the morning newspaper with a slice of toast in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in the other. The front page had some story about some film festival, but that wasn't what Penny was interested in.

She flicked through the first couple of stories until she spotted the headline – 'Investigation Into Brutal Attack Continues'. A couple of days ago this had been the top story. Now the police were trying to keep things quiet, to avoid any 'unnecessary panic'. It wasn't the first instance of a hideously mutilated body turning up in Laguna and Penny had her suspicions that it wouldn't be the last.

Stifling a yawn with another bite of toast, she glanced up from the paper as she heard a fluttering at the kitchen window. With a smirk forming on her lips, she stood up from the table and pulled the window slightly ajar, just enough to let in the rather large black bird who had landed on the window sill. “Hello, stranger.”

[Crowley]

The raven hopped from the sill onto the kitchen counter. The bird cocked its head left and right, eyeing the kitchen and adjoining room. They were empty. There was then a sound like a whole flock of birds taking off together. Where the bird had stood, now there sat a man.

“Good morning, Penny. What's for breakfast?”

The red-head held up a half-eaten piece of toast. “Sorry. We're all out of rotting carcass,” she quipped, smiling almost apologetically as she did so. Crowley rolled his eyes but took the joke in good nature. Without warning, he snatched the toast away from Penny and waggled it at her accusingly.

“You know, I had to postpone a meeting with an Immortal to be here,” he said in mock irritation, as he eased down from the counter.

“So let's get right down to business, shall we? I want you to tell me everything.”

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“Just for a change, hmm?” Penny raised one eyebrow playfully, though she was half-serious. If there was one thing she had come to expect from a conversation with Crowley it was having him act like a one-man inquisition. She couldn't blame him, though. It was in his nature. Though she was still smiling, her tone took a turn for the serious. “Come on, then. This is one of those conversations that require sitting down.”

They pair took chairs at opposite sides of the table on which the morning paper was laid out. True to form, Crowley immediately seized it up, his eyes dancing over the relevant article. “... suspected to have been the work of a wild animal,” he read aloud, glancing incredulously at Penny over his dark glasses.

“There's no pattern. The victims are all locals to Laguna, but police reports don't identify any common thread. Usually I'd say that was a tell-tale sign of some supernatural involvement, but not even that adds up. It's too brutal for any of the local leeches, and none of the resident packs know anything about it. Everyone is totally stumped.”

Sighing, she leant back in her chair. “I think the coroners are still trying to figure things out, though. I tried to get in, to have a better look at the body for myself, but my student press pass can only get me so far, you know?”

[Crowley]

Carefully folding the paper and setting it back down, Crowley smirked.

“I think I know where this is going... but please, carry on.”

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“Let's face it- the coroners aren't going to find out what did all of this,” Penny said, leaning forward as she gestured to the paper.

“It's pretty obvious that the cause is something out of the realms of human understanding.”

“You need is a coroner outside of the realms of human understanding, then,” Crowley interjected.

“This is right up your alley, Crows... and there's no other way we can get to the bottom of this. Are you in?”

[Crowley]

“Do I really have any choice in the matter?” Crowley shook his head and took solace in a bite of toast – which turned out to be cold. He frowned slightly and put it to one side, dusting some crumbs from his hands. “Just point me in the direction of the body.”

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“The family had it moved to the O'Connor Mortuary in Laguna Hills. I guess they're going to have it cremated,” Penny gave a shrug.

“You better take this,” she added, as an afterthought, as she tore a piece from the newspaper. It was a photograph of the recently deceased.

[Crowley]

Never a moments rest. It was hardly surprising that Crowley had so few real friendships. It seemed he was always coming or going, running an errand or doing a favour. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like to 'settle down'. Luckily, the thought made his skin crawl.

“I'll be off then, shall I?” He deposited the newspaper scrap into his jacket and stood up, glancing briefly around the interior of Penny's apartment. He had visited many times but never really paid it any attention. This time was no different. He had other things on his mind.

“See you tonight, right, Crows?” Penny asked, interrupting his thoughts. “I'll leave the window open again... Good luck.”

Soundlessly, Crowley nodded and as quick as he had arrived, he vanished once more.

[Crowley]

There was no rush to get to the funeral home. It was early hours yet and Crowley doubted that anyone would be up and about in the mortuary. In light of this, he opted to take a more scenic route to his destination, drifting here and there in the California skyline. The air was beginning to warm and a pleasant breeze ruffled through his feathers. It should have been a lovely day, if not for the grim task at hand.

When he felt that, at last, the time was right, the raven turned its course towards Laguna Hills. By now the denizens of the world were awake. The quiet that had presided over the calm morning was replaced by the sound of car engines, whirring and spluttering. From his vantage, Crowley watched the people – like ants – as they scurried about, all in such a hurry. They had their own problems to worry about, their own little dramas, trivial as they were.

A-ha. As his gaze roved over the scenery below, Crowley's keen eyes caught sight of the house to which he was heading. It was small and squat, with white walls and a terracotta roof. The garden was lined off with a little fence and in the centre of the turf there was a large sign planted. - O'Connor Family Mortuary. Crowley briefly pitied the children of the O'Connor family, born into such a grim legacy, but dismissed the thought as he made his descent.

Crowley made a point of landing a couple of houses down, in the shadow of a dumpster. The street was quiet but he spent a minute or so checking that it was completely empty, and he was not being watched, before he shook off his feathers and assumed human form. He made his way to the O'Connor house slowly, mentally composing himself for what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he rapped one hand on the front door and drew in a deep breath.

[Crowley]

The sound of hushed voices could be heard from behind the door – someone shouting from one part of the house to another, and a second voice sounding in turn – and then the soft thump of footsteps. A young man, mid-twenties, opened the door and smiled, almost apologetically, at Crowley.

“Hello, sir,” he said, his voice soft and supplicating. His eyes moved surreptitiously over Crowley, noting the black clothing, that hallmark of someone in grieving, an attire he was all too accustomed to seeing. “Please, come in. How can I – we – help?”

The door closed behind Crowley as he was ushered carefully indoors. It had become habit now, for the O'Connors, to treat guests like fine china. They did not coddle their customers, but were gentle and respectful. John O'Connor, the man who had greeted Crowley at the door, was particular adept at this. He brought his latest potential customer to the front lounge, a modest sitting room that the family themselves rarely used for relaxation, but instead for conducting business.

Light filtered in through net curtains, but the room was still dark. Crowley studied the man sitting opposite him from behind his dark glasses. Perhaps the silence was misinterpreted as Crowley struggling to come to terms with the lie that he was about to tell. Rather than playing the emotional wreck card, he opted to be the strong silent type. As much as it pained him to keep his beak shut, he found the less he said the more O'Connor felt obliged to speak.

Consolidations quickly turned to business, as Crowley was shown an array of coffins and other funeral trappings, each more expensive than the last. This gave him a good opportunity to see the layout of the house. Upstairs was the family area, while the basement was were the less pleasant affairs were conducted, things that customers like Crowley would neither here of nor see.

“I know this must be a difficult time for your and your family, Mr. Crowley,” O'Connor sighed, “...so please, take all the time you need. Whenever you're ready, we'll be here to help.”

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

While Crowley got his talons dirty, Penny was busy cleaning up. It was frustrating, to feel like there was nothing she could currently do about he problem at hand, so she was venting her anger on her living space. Fortunately for the throw pillows she had been fluffing, another idea sprung to mind. She paced to the phone and dialled out. It rang and rang and Penny was almost ready to give up when a voice, sounding somewhat rushed and breathless, answered.

“Nara? ... It's Penny. Everything alright?”

[Nara McKenna]

Nara could barely hear the woman on the other end. Esoterica was in the middle of sets and her boys, Ethan and Kevin, were dueling with their drums and guitar. It was hellish trying to hear anything on the cell phone. Thankfully, a little focus with her heightened senses made the words clearer.

"Penny!" She hadn't heard from that girl for months now. "Um, ya kinda caught me in the middle of sets."

Just then, Ethan tore into a loud rift that reverberated through the floor. "As if ya couldn't tell. Whassup?"

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

The crackle of the guitar through the phone line made Penny wince away from the receiver, before gingerly returning it to her ear. “Oh not much... hey, are you really busy right now? You know I could call you back... it's just that there's something totally fishy is going on with the local shape-changers. I could really use your help.”

[Nara McKenna]

Now Kevin was starting up, trying to be louder on the drums then Ethan, which was much to the approval of the roaring crowd.

"Um, hang on." Nara worked her way to the backstage receiving door and went outside. There were a few servers outside taking a smoke break. She gave them a small acknowledgement and started walking down the ally for some privacy. "Of course I'll help. I keep my promises. Just that I'm in Los Angeles right now."

She checked the caller ID and didn't recognize the area code, "Where the hell are you at?"

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“Laguna Beach, you goof,” Penny smiled to herself. Nara wasn't too far away, that was good.

“So what do you say – can you take a break out of your hectic rock star schedule to do some snooping for Gaia?”

[Nara McKenna]

"Hey, my life is crazy but I love it," she chuckled, "but Gaia comes first. Always. I'll see what I can do about wrapping things up here soon. The band can take care of things while I'm away." Penny knew that all of Nara's bandmates were kin and were used to the Galliard leaving at the drop of a hat when a cousin or the family needed her.

The phone was snugly secure between her chin and shoulder as the Garou checked her watch. It was a little past 12pm. Esoterica was part of an all day fundraiser to raise money for cancer research. They were a small fish in a big lake compared to the other bands here, and she was a little upset that she wouldn't get to see Melissa Etheridge later, but duty called. "Um, probably be there close to one-thirty depending on the time I get on the road. Where we meeting at?"

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“There's a little coffee pot on the shoreline that does the best organic food,” - Penny felt her stomach leap for joy at the very thought of it - “We can chill there for a while; I'll fill you in on everything we've got so far, then we can head back to my place in time for Crows getting back from his early-morning recon. Sound cool?”

[Nara McKenna]

"Organic food?" Nara made a face and repeated herself, almost dropping the cell. "Organic food???"

Her stomach grumbled in protest.

[Penelope Lloyd-Fraser]

“I'm sure we can find a greasy spoon nearby that will cater to your tastes,” Penny chided in reply. From the tone in her voice, it would have been easy to imagine her sticking her tongue out Nara down the line.

“Just meet me there, alright? We've got big business to talk.”