Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
[Trigger Warning: Blood, Graphic Violence, Sickness, and Suffering]
Many of his colleagues had found it strenuous in their efforts working at Monroeville this week, sharing these thoughts and feelings both vocally and passively. One of them, who happened to be a mere acquaintance, had been severely wounded by the outrage of a maddened patient. Needless to say, a directive had been set where this classified individual was ordered for an immediate removal, after the conclusion that the inmate was responsible for a significant amount of times where harm and vandalism were a result. Palmer knew fully well the common misinterpretation of the term “removal” among the lower staff, but regrettably the head of security, himself, was absolutely aware of its true connotation.
Alas, he hadn’t been asked to do the job this time as there were other things he had been actively attending to. The dark blond decided that tonight he was going to take a break. He was entitled to one, and the ongoing conditions with staying in an intensely concealed and confined area was demanding to all who either worked or lived there. Monroeville’s own walls were bare and cold, giving a sense of coldness and chill at all times. Whereas, this bar he had found, was full of colour on the walls. The place was small, loud, and occupied by many men who he figured had recently finished their shifts for the night. There were a few women as well, particularly a middle-aged woman with dark curly hair sitting in the corner with 2 other ladies. They were loud, laughing as they drowned themselves in tittle-tattle babble and alcohol.
“TV’s quiet tonight,” the bartender remarked in a thick accent, “Ain’t no games or anythin’ going on tonight.” A few men sitting to the side of Palmer murmured in agreement as they conversed with each other, sharing stories back and forth of their day at work, as well as their own personal domestics they were encountering with their spouse. Although he wasn’t a part of the conversation, Palmer would give a sullen nod every time the man next to him would elbow him for either a nod of acknowledgement or agreement. To be honest, the head of security had no idea what the intoxicated man was laughing or talking about as he had, for the time being, mentally shut himself off from the noise of his surroundings. There were limitations, and even though the ex-agent was very capable of tuning into his senses for work purposes, he needed respite.
Tonight, however, was certainly one where he needed to be on-game. He hadn’t noticed the 20-year old fidgety man walk into the bar sitting on the far end from where he sat. Palmer also hadn’t seen the initial shaking of the man’s arms as he would pick up a glass and guzzle it down. Neither had he seen the 3 shady men slip into the bar, eyes on their unsettled target who was now drinking his fourth drink for the evening. When the newcomer reached to drink his fifth one, Palmer caught sight of the raven-haired man’s arm going into a convulsion. Adjusting his posture, Palmer realised it was all too late as the man’s eyes turned white, his mouth opening with the follow of a blood-curdling scream.
A heavy, dark, green air like substance infused the room as it detonated from inside the young man’s mouth. An eruption of cursing and shouts commenced as the bar attendees panicked, attempting to evacuate the small building. Reaching for his gun, it proved too late as the raven-haired guy was then immediately shot by an unknown figure. Palmer felt a warm liquid slide downward and out from the corner of his mouth, that familiar metallic taste giving the message that he had to get out right away. Coughing up a storm, Palmer hurried to the door, almost tripping over a few of the corpses sprawled out on the floor. A few others had escaped, but most were beginning to already collapse on the sidewalk.
Tears began to pour out of Palmer’s eyes. Inevitably, it was another side effect of the other’s power. Using the long sleeve of his grey thermal to wipe away his tears, Palmer noticed the sudden red stain on his shirt. Blood continued to seep from his mouth. He ran fast, using all the strength that he could to get away from the scene and out of public’s eye. Instantly, he felt a crippling pain from inside causing the ex-agent to bend over. It was an excruciating feeling, the sharp pains feeling as if a sharp object was tearing at him from the inside. He was struggling to breathe; loud gasps emitted as he fell to the floor. His eyes glazed over in a flash as his body continued to struggle in its fight, a sudden change occurring as his body shifted from human to animal form.
NOTES ; Big congratulations! I’m SO happy for you! <3 Sorry for this post being so late. x
The night was slow, slower than usual, and Gen knew that was not a good sign. Usually they had at least an attempted homicide happening every night, but tonight there had been nothing. Not even an attempt at homicide. For the city of New Orleans, that was unusual. It usually spelled trouble for New Orleans as well. The slow night put the short brunette on edge, causing her leg to shake uncontrollably while she was sitting at the station. Her striking blue eyes kept glancing towards the clock placed on the wall. The air in the room was tense, as she could feel that other members of the New Orleans Police Department felt the same uneasy feeling about tonight. They were all antsy, not saying a lot to each other, focusing on their paperwork from the previous night and glancing at the phone every few seconds, anticipating the sharp ring.
Gen jumped out of her seat as the room was filled with the sharp ringing of the many phones. The other detectives answered the phones, writing down the same story: something strange was happening down in downtown New Orleans. There had been a strange gas emitted in a local bar, multiple gun shots, multiple fatalities. This was why Gen disliked being slow at work. Big, multiple casualties were the cause of slow nights. Gen grabbed her vest, her gun, rushing out to her squad car. Her partner was driving them there. She was preparing herself for the worst, never expecting the best. Gen’s line of work allowed her to see the absolute worst in humanity. This was a fact that she never got over. She was constantly preparing for the worst situation. At home, she had six locks on their front and back doors, hoping it would prevent people from breaking into her home. She had sirens on each window, alerting her to if it were opened.
The team arrived at the scene, being the first ones there, paramedics not far behind. She heard bits and pieces of what was being recalled from the evening. None of it made sense. People didn’t just emit noxious gasses. Not normal people, anyway. Gen had a gut feeling about the type of people who had been the cause of all the chaos tonight. They had abilities, just like she did. Their ability scared her, though. Gen’s ability didn’t harm others, it protected others. This other person’s ability caused nothing but harm to the others of this town.
Gen walked around, noting the causalities. There were at least six, more popping up as paramedics made their way through the scene. Gen noticed the pattern of people outside, trying to get away from whatever was happening in the bar that night. They were strewn across the sidewalk and into the road. Some were deceased; some just needed oxygen to clear the toxic gas from their lungs. Gen kept walking, walking a few blocks down to make sure there were no other victims. Then she noticed an animal laying in a pile of human clothes. She rushed over, noticing the bird, stomach tightening as she realized who it was: Palmer.
It was her former work mate and close friend. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks because of his work being extremely busy, so she was not expecting him to be at the bar. She bent down, picking up the bird’s head, noticing the blood pouring from the creature. She grabbed the shirt he had been wearing in human form, placing pressure against the wound, soaking the shirt in crimson, thick liquid.
“Palmer, it’s me.”
She exclaimed, picking him up, cradling him in her arms.
“You’re going to be okay.”
She added, looking over her shoulder at the scene unfolding behind her. She needed to get him to a veterinarian. How was she going to explain this? She rushed (with Palmer in hand) towards a local vet downtown, pounding on the door. The half asleep man answered, and Gen shoved the bird toward him.
“You have to save him. He’s like family. Please…please...”
She begged, noticing how the vet instantly took over, taking Palmer in hand. Gen let him know she would be back, and she took off towards the crime scene again. She helped get the causalities counted and documented. She made painful phone calls to family members, letting them know their loved one was a victim of a mass shooting in their town. Twelve hours later, she made her way to the veterinarian’s office, bursting in the door.
“How is he?”
She asked, having to explain the situation (injured bird) to the techs.
“I know. Pets are just like family. But I assure you that we have stabilized him. He is still sore and resting. He might have to stay here…”
Gen put her hand up. That was not an option. Once Palmer healed, he would turn back into a human. She couldn’t risk that.
“No, no. I do not have the money for that. I can take care of him from here. I have training in first aid. Thank you for everything.”
She told them. She paid them their services, a few grand from her savings account, and then she bundled the patched-up Palmer in her arms, placing him in the back of her car that was waiting outside. Now she had to go home and let Ella know they were going to have company for a while. She drove home, pulling into the driveway. She grabbed Palmer again, making her way inside.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”
Ella ran up to her momma, confused as to why there was a big bird with her mom. She grabbed onto Gen’s leg, eyeing up Palmer. Gen placed Palmer on the couch, thanking the babysitter for working overtime to stay with Ella. She sat with Ella on the floor, allowing Palmer to rest on the couch. She had explained to Ella that she found an injured animal and that they were going to take care of him until he healed, just like a good person would do. Ella seemed to be okay with that explanation, happy to have her mom home to play with. Gen was exhausted from the day, pulling Ella into her lap so they could read a book together.
[Trigger Warning: Subtle Mention of Torture, Surgical Procedures (Needle)]
The sound of the sirens melded into the background of distortion that Palmer was hearing. He felt himself coming in and out of consciousness sporadically. Special authorities and paramedics could be heard rushing to attend to the sick and wounded, rapid footsteps and quick exchanges taking place as the workers consulted with one another. As he felt the sudden physical sensation of a gentle human hand supporting his head, blackness overcame him soon before he was completely out.
Regaining consciousness again, this time Palmer was unable to see anything. He could scarcely come to terms with what was going on, but was immediately taken aback as his senses were beginning to return. A beeping noise resonated and the sound of metallic devices being stationed on a surface of some kind was all that he had gathered.
Straightaway, a disturbing memory had emerged inside Palmer’s mind as he recalled a time where he had been badly hurt. The bald eagle’s feathers bristled as he felt a different and a much larger hand pin him down, tightening at the eye coverage that had been fastened on. Whoever had apprehended him beforehand was quick to realise the bird’s startling movements. Palmer felt weak, a stirring sickness inside causing vomit to slide out of his hooked beak.
“Get me a sedative,” ordered the man who had the bird of prey pressed down. If only he had enough strength, Palmer would shift back to his human form to take them out; his gun had still been attached to him before the change. As he felt the needle going inside him, his talons scratched against the metal surface in anger, shortly before his struggles were finally overcome by the anesthesia.
_____
Time had passed, and Palmer was starting to hear another discussion taking place. This time, one of the voices belonged to a female. Albeit he couldn’t make out all the words that were being said, inwardly the shifter swore the voice had a familiar ring to it. After the blinder was removed from him, the eagle hissed and a sequence of colours and blurry lights entailed his vision. At the moment that he was transferred to the other’s arms, sleepiness was unavoidably prevailing again.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”
Hearing the girl’s cry, Palmer somewhat opened his eyes while finding that he was now being placed onto a couch. Dizziness kicked in, but the room he was now in was a warmer temperature compared to the previous environment he had been in. Glancing over to where he was hearing more conversation taking place, he instantly realised as to whose voice he had formerly listened to prior to his nap. Palmer was relieved to see Genevieve, a good friend and remarkable detective he had temporarily worked with in the past. Her long, straight dark brown hair complimented her recognisable blue eyes she always had; a trait that distinguished her from others. Sitting on her lap, he could see her daughter, knowing full well that she meant the most to Genevieve more than anything. Without doubt, the sweet little girl shared the same traits as her mother.
He didn’t want to interrupt their time; it was special for a parent to have that essential bonding time with their child. As Ella continued to read a story to her mother, Palmer was starting to put together the pieces of preceding events. Although the medication was still in effect, he was able to think back to what had happened at the bar. Had Genevieve found him there, he thought to himself. Maybe his friend would be able to fill him in with the further details, and of course she was going to be expecting some, herself.
NOTES ; I'm not a fan of needles, and I usually tolerate them pretty well, but the last one that was given to me by the doctor made me cry, hahaha. ^^; (It hurt my side soooo bad!)
The only thing that kept Genevieve going was caffeine. There was no way she would have been able to work night shift and be a half-okay mom without the caffeine buzzing through her system. While Palmer was out, Gen had made a pot of coffee, extra strong, and she had about half of it before sitting back down with her little darling.
Ella had a lot of things she wanted to do with her momma today, such as having Gen read her favorite stories to her, draw some pictures, and even dancing around to Koo Koo Kangaroo. Gen happily, and sluggishly, did all of those things with her little one. She knew Ella would grow up soon, and she wanted to make the most out of every moment with Ella. Being in her accident five years ago made her realize just how quickly life could end. While Gen could protect herself (and anything she was growing inside of her), there was no way her power was strong enough to protect Ella against the dangers of the world.
As morbid as it sounded, it seemed to work for Gen. She was happy to put her own personal life aside to make sure that Ella had the best life possible while she was here on this planet. If that meant Gen never went on a date again in her life, then so be it. Ella was the most important thing in Genevieve’s life, and it was going to stay that way until the day one of them perished.
While Ella was coloring her fifth picture of Palmer in falcon mode, Gen went to finish off the pot of coffee. While Gen was downing the warm, black liquid, Ella made her way over to Palmer, looking at the injured animal. She ran her little finger over one of his feathers, gasping when she realized it was a real bird. Her blue eyes widened as she stepped closer to the falcon, placing her tiny nose against the cool, hard beak of Palmer’s.
When Gen made her way back in, she hurried over, scooping her little one up and away from Palmer.
“We have to let the falcon rest, Miss Ella.”
She cooed at her squirming daughter. She turned on the annoying kids’ music again, Pop Si Co taking the attention span of Ella. Gen made her way back over to Palmer, running her hand over his wing. She plopped down, sitting on her knees to examine the bird carefully.
“You poor thing…”
She muttered, looking at the wound that was bleeding through the dressing. She would have to figure out how to change a dressing soon.
“What in the world did you get yourself into, Palm?”
She muttered to herself, not aware that he was actually awake and rethinking the details of the evening.
Palmer’s eyes opened the moment he felt a small finger softly touch the surface of his feathers. Realising that it was just Ella, merely exploring out of genuine child-like curiosity, he ensured not to make any sudden movement that may startle the young child. He was taken aback, yet also amused, after the young girl placed her nose against his beak. He could see the amazement sparkle in her eyes. There were no signs of any other animals in the house, so he figured that perhaps the girl wasn’t too accustomed to having an animal in the house. This girl deserved a parrot. It would be entertaining to see how Ella would react to a bird that actually spoke back.
After Genevieve had returned, her words were a good reminder to him. It was best to rest as much as he could and then hopefully, he would be able to shift after Ella was put into bed. He didn’t want to traumatise the poor girl by changing in front of her, and to be honest, Palmer wasn’t sure it was possible to at this point. His eyelids were heavy and he hadn’t noticed Gen kneeling in front of him until she spoke again, touching his wing. There was no surprise to the caring nature of the woman; Gennie had a daughter, a mother’s instinct, and was a kind person overall.
______
4 A.M. That’s what it said on the clock by the time Palmer woke again. Thankfully, he was feeling more rested. He was going to take the chance to see if he could change back human; he was hungry and would need to talk to Genevieve once she was awake. There was still time before that, however. Maybe he could get a bite to eat, too, since his empty stomach was beginning to complain. Palmer took the chance and was relieved as his shift from eagle to human form was successful. Inside, he was still feeling a bit sick, but much better in comparison to yesterday. Rubbing his face with both hands, emitting a slight groan, Palmer found it in himself the will to stand up. Damn, everything was dizzy. He had to place a quick hand onto the couch as he almost lost balance, which would have been a pain to fall over and make a noise that would wake the others.
Before stepping to the kitchen area, a thought crossed his mind. Although, Gennie had more than likely checked, he wanted to be certain that no one was surveilling the two females without their consent. Palmer began to unscrew the first light fixture, peering close enough to look for any foreign device. His friend was a detective, and with these events that were arising, it wouldn’t be a shock to find her place bugged. Some would call him paranoid for taking such precautions, but Palmer had seen this kind of thing many times before in the past. He was careful in securing everything back into place, and felt satisfied that the apartment was clear.
There was an inkling of guilt as he walked over to the fridge. He’d make sure that he’d only have eggs because they were cheap, and would remember to leave money on the counter for her. Any other time Palmer would have asked, but he knew it would be best for him not to wake Gennie up at this time, especially due to the demand her occupation had. The woman was probably exhausted, after all.
As the eggs cooked, the water and oil contributing to the slight popping sound that was heard, the dark blond noticed a few pictures that were attached to the fridge. Almost every single photo included Genevieve and her daughter in it, smiling. Evidently, there was a strong mother-daughter bond between them.
Around midnight was when Genevieve realized that her and Ella had fallen asleep on the living room floor. They had been cuddled up under a Doc McStuffin's fleece blanket. Ella seemed to adore Doc McStuffins, which Gen didn't mind at all. The show had a cute, sweet concept to it, and the show also showed diversity with having an African American child as the main character. The girl was also into the field of STEM, which research showed a lot of girls didn't go into because it was male dominated. Gen wanted Ella to have these kinds of shows to show her that women of any sort of background, be it African American or Hispanic like they were, could become anything they dreamed about if they just put the time and effort into it.
Gen scooped her tiny daughter up in her arms, careful not to wake her up. She headed for Ella's bedroom, which was at the end of the hallway, using her right foot to gently knock the door open. She walked carefully in the dark, stepping on a few toys as she went, until she reached Ella's bed. It was a twin sized bed, covered in Doc McStuffins sheets and comforters. Ella really did have a theme about her life. Gen placed Ella in the bed gently, climbing in next to her daughter. She wrapped her arm around her sleeping child, drifting off to sleep herself.
She woke up around 4:30 A.M., the smell of someone cooking in her kitchen waking her up. She became alarmed, thinking someone had broken into her house. She didn't have time to grab her gun, so she grabbed the closest thing to her: book ends. She quietly made her way down the hall, making sure she used her detective stealth mode in order to not alert the intruder. Why in the world was the intruder cooking her food? Were they after Palmer? Was this some kind of big plot to kidnap someone with his ability? She went around the corner to the kitchen, raising the bookend above her head. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before stepping into the kitchen.
"What..."
She started, noticing that it was in fact Palmer in her kitchen.
"What the hell, Palmer?!"
She said, placing the bookend on the counter before going over and wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug.
"Good Lord, I thought you were someone who broke into my house and was after you."
She added, pulling away from the hug, heart beating fast from the adrenaline coursing through her body.
"I didn't realize you would shift back so soon. I'm so glad you are okay!"
Her words were rushed as she pulled him into another hug, this time of relief that he was okay and alive.
Fortunately for Genevieve and her training, Palmer hadn’t the faintest idea of the woman's initial “sneak” plan. He could see the eggs coming to a finish, the bright yellow yolk turning solid giving off a fine shine as the white around it hardened. By no means had he excelled in cooking. This was going to be just what he needed for now. There was no question to the amount of times he had encountered where food wasn’t an option; his previous work entailed full attention and devotion. Even in some parts of the world a simple meal would be considered luxury. Monroeville was nowhere near as demanding, luckily.
Suddenly, he heard a step followed by the mutter of no one other than Gennie, herself. What the hell was she doing? As he turned his head, the simultaneous sight of shock and realisation upon her face amused and perturbed him. Was she planning on hitting him around the head with that thing, he pondered. It was rather comical, in actual fact.
“Hey,” the dark blond said, attempting to prompt an explanation. Earlier he had decided he was already going to pay for any expenses he might owe, including the possibility of anything that may have been lost during the disruption to Gen’s shift. An internal guilt pursued to linger. Straightaway the pan was moved from the stove top as he watched the detective make her approach. A dubious side to him anticipated a little smack, yet the unforeseen hug was more pleasing to him.
He smiled a little, returning a small hug. His eyes were tired, affected by the contamination of the sedative that was steadily detoxifying out of his system. He met with her eyes, her bright blue eyes beaming back at him. Unlike him, Genevieve looked good for her age. He was fully aware that each of them shared a few horrors in their past, but the light was still there for her, burning bright like a flame that was determined not to be extinguished.
Hearing that she had thought someone had broken into her house caused the ex-agent to let out a soft chuckle. He was certain that no one was after him, and the happenings in the bar were nothing personal. There were too many reasons Palmer had gone over to argue why the attack had been an uncorrelated one. “Bald eagles are protected, but it’s the gators that the people are after nowadays,” he joked, hoping to lighten the mood. “But I’m guessing you don’t have one of those around here, right?”
The truth was, he was still sick. It somewhat astonished him that he had indeed shifted to human form. A wall was put up around him, however, to try and give the impression that he was better off than actuality. He knew that his friend was smart, nevertheless, and she would probably catch on. Genevieve was not a woman who was to be underestimated. She had done remarkable things that one would find it difficult to even fathom.
Gazing down at his friend, his brows furrowed as he evaluated her facial features. Yes, she was tired. Maybe she, too, was playing the wall game. It wouldn’t be any eye-opener as it was to be expected considering the fact that she also had a daughter to look after. As a detective and single-mother, chances are there were a lot of things she was having to live up to. Feeling the woman embrace him again, he hugged back, his concerned expression across his face unfailing as he stared into the wall, contemplating. They had always maintained a good friendship, and there were those tiny spurts of innocent affection through physical touch that was to be expected, but for her to hug him twice in such a way notified the ex-agent that she was needing some extra form of support from a friend.
“How about you?” Palmer asked, looking down at her again as his voice sounding soothe and calm. Speaking in regular conversation, his tone was known to pacify. When it came to shouting and interrogation, however, that was a different story…
At his little joke, Gen let out an amused laugh. Her strong heart was still beating fast, and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her system. She leaned back against her counter, placing a hand over her heart, still chuckling to herself.
“You know, I don’t think I know of any gator friends, but I will warn them if I find them.”
She told him, giving him a smile. She moved to place her hands on the cool counter, elbows bent. Her heart was starting to get back into its normal rhythm. Her smile faded into a look of concern. It was a look your mother would give you if she noticed your cheeks were flushed.
“How are you feeling, Palmer? Are you sure you should be standing up and cooking?”
She asked him.
“Can I get you anything? Tylenol? Something better than eggs?”
She added, moving to a higher up cabinet, pulling out a small woven container, lined with cloth. It was full of over the counter medication. There was Tylenol for adults and children, cough drops, sinus medication, and even children’s allergy medication. Her fingers grazed the bottles, landing on the Tylenol container for adults. The pills rattled against the plastic pill bottle as she offered it over to him.
“I’m really surprised you were able to shift back into human form so quickly. That seems like a great miracle.”
She added, putting the box of medication back into the cabinet. She was always careful to keep it away from Ella. She knew that medication, even children’s Tylenol, was toxic to children if taken in excess. She gently closed the cabinet door, making sure it didn’t make a loud thud that would wake up a sleeping child. She turned back to face her friend, shrugging her freckled shoulders.
“I mean, the day was pretty hectic, but this is what I was trained for.”
She told him, putting up a front. In all actuality, she was a worried, anxious mess. She considered Palmer a friend, a close one at that, and she couldn’t risk losing another person she cared for. She had lost her husband five years ago, and it still rattled her. She worried constantly about the safety of the people she loved. She never went in a car, unless it was the cop car. She never let Ella in a car. She was afraid cars would wind up taking Ella from her, just like they had tried five years ago.
“I could use some sleep, but they invented caffeine for people like me, who never sleep.”
She joked, giving him a small smile so that he would not worry about how she was doing at this point in time. He was the one that needed to be fawned over. He was the one who was so close to death almost twelve hours ago.
“I was on duty tonight, and we got called in for multiple homicides.”
She answered him.
“What the hell happened out there, Palm? Were they tracking you? Were they human? Were they creatures? The stories we were getting made them seem like absolute monsters of the supernatural sort. Gas being emitted, weird scenes. I didn’t get a bunch of what was happening because I was rushing around trying to save you, but I don’t know that we are going to be able to crack this based on their testaments alone.”
She spoke, rushing a little.
“Also, my team thinks I have some weird animal sense now. They are going to be asking me about why I thought an eagles life was more important than the human lives. I don’t know what I am going to tell them, Palm.”
She told him, reality setting in for her. There was a lot of unanswered questions, and a lot of things she was going to have to fake if she wanted people to get off her back.
“Thanks,” Palmer replied in a low whisper, taking the medication in hand. Although he still wasn’t entirely sure about what particular toxins were still lingering, he wasn’t in the mood for anything else other than eggs. A little Tylenol wasn’t going to hurt, nevertheless. As Gen proceeded to talk and explain, he listened fervently as he grabbed a glass of water, briefly keeping his eyes off her. There was an uncontested reason for this, but only Palmer himself truly knew why.
Furthermore, he appeared to be entranced by the sight of small ripples weaving through the surface of the water. The waves could be compared to the sound reality of the damaging effect from an individual’s result of their actions. It was a dark place for those who sought to inflict harm upon others. It was also a dark place for those who took measures to stop this. He had been there many times, yet he was worried that his friend would encounter it… again. Incidents like these attacks were becoming fairly common, and in Genevieve’s line of work, he knew the demands could very well become greater. In spite of that, he wouldn’t interfere or stop anything against her will.
It was her choice what she wanted to do and he had to respect that.
“Yeah, I guess I’m still full of surprises.” One advantage Palmer had was that he lived with the security of no sudden change to human form unless he deemed so. If he had made an immediate shift to human whilst in front of Gen’s daughter, Ella, then there was a good case that the poor girl would develop a possible phobia towards birds. He didn’t want the girl having to live with questioning whether the next fowl she saw in her every day life would change into a person or not.
“I was in the bar. There was a shout and then the screaming persisted as a guy released some toxin from his mouth in the room. Black hair, twenties, about 5 foot 7… Someone else got him before I had the chance. I don’t think it was a personal attack and I don’t think it was planned. There could have been someone after him. I was out before I saw anyone.” As he finished his quick and brief explanation to the detective, the dark blond cursed inwardly. In actuality, as much as he hated to admit it, he was fairly embarrassed. Any time he lost a lead, it evinced nothing but absolute frustration. He was confident that Gennie and her team would find something. Indubitably, someone out there saw and knew something.
Another side to him felt bad for bringing inconvenience to the female’s case. If she hadn’t have found him, then maybe she would have had more time to further the investigation. Now, the brunette was going to have to answer to her team and supervisors for her actions. No wonder he didn’t even hear any inkling of amusement in her tone as she expressed her concerns. He would have to help her think of something. Any excuse relating to patriotism would be merely swept away.
“I won’t stay here too long,” he assured, intending to make Gen feel less of a burden. The last thing he wanted to do was add any unneeded stress in her life, as he kept reminding himself. “I know you’ve got to get some more rest and I’m in the way. Besides, it might be a problem if Ella starts getting too attached to this bald eagle of yours.”
Joking lightly, he couldn’t remember if he had heard what Gen’s justifications were to her daughter for keeping an eagle in the house. In fact, he wasn’t certain if the mother had spoken to her child about the existence of people and abilities. He could still recall the day he spoke to his father about his discovery. His mother wasn’t around, so she wasn’t there for him to confide in. Let alone, the vile man he had grown to detest, who should have been his faithful protector of a father figure, used him. That naivety dwindled years ago. Reflecting on his father was a thing that scarcely crossed his mind. He tossed it away like a piece of a dandelion in the wind.
The supposedly humorous comment from earlier was one Palmer hadn’t forgotten. He could see the bags under her protruding, fragile-like eyes. Those delicate eyes. She wasn’t sleeping well. He stepped forward, looking at her with concern. His gaze fixed into hers as he placed a gentle hand on her arm, a moment taking place where subconscious thoughts ignited between them like an open flame, which even Palmer hadn’t caught onto. It was as though the ex-agent was acting in a state of sheer innocence, blinded by the risk of the aftermath to his actions. Lifting a hand, he gently brushed a strand of hair to the back of her ear, own eyes softening as he conveyed concern. He was there to take and share the yoke.
