12975/Into the Badlands

Into the Badlands
Date of Scene:	06 April 2021
Location:	Badlands, South Dakota
Synopsis:	The X-Men arrive to investigate a small town murder.
Cast of Characters:	Storm, Cyclops, Beast, Phoenix, Pixie

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Storm has posed:
It's not all too uncommon for Charles to get a request from one of his old friends. Friends in the term of they knew each other once upon a time and someone helped the other out. Charles really doesn't divulge his personal life with others, and that was fine. Help was needed and it was given especially when asked politely.

There were no details or questions asked, only to get to the Badlands in South Dakota, and probably pack some clothing that would be a little bit warmer, anyone's choice. The Blackbird would be the method of travel and cars that were reserved by Charles in a hidden corporation. The cars would be driven by whomever had the keys to the kingdom to the address indicated on the line. It was dark out, of course, the sun setting over the horizon, the path that was taken littered with white vans and a crime scene mobile.

It wasn't that it was an active crime scene, it was a week old. The detective in charge held up the clean up as long as she could in anticipation in help from the X-Men. This was officially their wheelhouse now.

Detective Rachel Moore stands upon the sidewalk leading up to the house, a small colonial that clearly housed three bedrooms with no basement. There was an attached garage that leads off from the kitchen, where if thought about and dreamed of, where groceries would have been brought in. The lights were all on in the house, the garage door wide open, the car that belongs to the inhabitants of the home still parked in the driveway.

Detective Moore was a figure all on her own. She stood an odd 4ft11, but as short as she was, it seemed that she loomed. The look upon her face was near grave as she chewed upon the pencil in her mouth, a very old habit that she literally couldn't get rid of.

"Give us til the morning, alright?" She calls out to the crews, who all groan at her insistence. "Oh shut up, you all are getting paid by the hour, we're doing one more sweep and I better not hear a goddamned peep outta your mouths again!" No one said a word, but the activity of hurry up and wait was swiftly abandoned for a free night off. Van doors slammed shut, van engines roar, van wheels peel out of the area one by one..

Cyclops has posed:
As the pair of cars pull up, one driven by Scott, the other by Hank, the field leader slides out of the driver's seat and hips it shut. He's dressed in a pair of jeans and a button down black shirt with a heavy jacket with a wooly interior to keep him warm. He has on a small compact visor as well that can pass for a trendy pair of shades.

As he approaches Detective Moore, he gives a clear of his throat. "Ma'am. I'm Scott Summers. Cyclops of the X-Men. Sorry if we're a little bit late. Our GPS took us the long way. What can we do to help you out?" His eyes sweep towards the older house, then back towards the diminutive woman as he folds his arms over his chest.

"Charles did not give us much in the way of information, just that it was a matter of importance."

Beast has posed:
This kind of fieldtrip is the kind that ends up with Hank McCoy's small arsenal of field gadgets and gizmos being packed in conveniently plain looking black sports bags and such other things. There's a cluster of them conspiring in the back of the rental. He'd have driven, if given the chance, keeping eyes on the road and the circumstance, the odd commentary on historical facts popping up along the way when taking in the scenery and signposts, but on the whole, the doctor is quite serious when on a mission and this is no exception.

He pulls to the curb a ways back, watching the white vans until they take their leave of the scene and only then commenting "... Shall we?" he asks to whoever is, or is not riding shot-gun with him, unbuckling and reaching for one of the bags o' gear, this with sample containers, baggies and gadgets that measure 'parts per million', background radiation etcetera. Blue jeans, black cap, plain brown combat vest full o' pockets for handy samples and a black leather jacket over all of that, hides some of the blue fur at least. As he puts bare foot to the sidewalk, he sniffs the air for trace aromas, casting attention about casually.

Phoenix has posed:
With this being official but low-key team business, Jean is dressed accordingly in her 'business casual' uniform of black jean, a fitted green shirt, and a cropped and fitted black jacket, black boots, and a muted gold belt with the X buckle. As often is, her red hair is left free. As she gets out of the car, she shoots a quick glance aside to Hank and murmurs with a grin, "Need a hand carrying some of that?" Not that he can't shoulder it all, but that's a lot of bags.

She leaves Scott to make the initial contact while she's getting out and adjusting her jacket, though be it with or without baggage she'll head over after their leader in short order.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn yawns and stretches as she steps out of the car after Scott, peering around curiously. "Soooo, why'd they call the Xmen on a case like this?" Surely there's more to it than a mere criminal case that could be dealt with by the local police, right?

But Megan is sure Xavier had his reasons, and perhaps there's more to it than meets the eye. For now, Megan hovers in the background, scanning the area, awaiting further details and instructions.

Dressed in blue jeans, hot pink shirt and a black spring windbreaker, she's ready for sundown, even if it seems counter intuitive to investigate a crime scene in the dark..

Storm has posed:
"Hoo, you guys are huge." Detective Moore comments; while it would have been a joke, her facial expression seemed a 'off'. Off as in she was exhausted, tied and tried her brain around it. Only a few people have been allowed into the crime scene and the bodies were already at the coroners office, awaiting the doctors signature.

"So the whole teams here, good. Let's go inside." She reaches into her pocket, retrieving a bundle of booties, each member of the X-Team receiving a pair which would go upon their feet. Preserving the crime scene.. and it was a mess.

As she slips hers on, she begins to speak. "I don't want to say -too- much out here in the open, but surface level we have, or what I hoped we have is a good ol' fashioned murder." She straightens herself up, her shoulders rolling as she gestures to the house. She says nothing else as she walks up the path, then pushes the door open with her shoulder. She seems to have forgotten gloves.

Cyclops has posed:
Once he slips the plastic booties over the top of his boots, Scott follows after her as he sweeps his gaze about. "Is this involving a mutant? A mutant murdered someone?" That is the only thing that makes sense for why they would be summoned all the way out here.

<< Jean, let us know if she's hiding anything from us. Scan the area as well if you can, let's see if someone has a stray thought that we may stick out. >>

He blows some bangs away from his face as he moves inside, stepping gingerly for now.

Beast has posed:
"Thank you Jean, I should be fine. This is just the scene bag. Forensics and measuring equipment. " Apparently, like a big blue boyscout, Hank comes prepared. You never know, right? Taking the elasticated footwear, he slips them on, fishing his own pair of nitrile gloves from one of the vest pockets, because he has to. Not a one of anything on scene is going to fit. He is otherwise quiet as he lets his senses guide him to the story of their own; all the people in and out, crossing the scene, but concentrating on all that lies beneath all that-- listening to his nose.

He also slips his regular glasses into their case and removes a special pair from a much sturdier case; computer specs, proper spygear kind of equipment with an internal optical interface, so that he can document and mic-record things for his files on the scene, for comparison and later analysis. He carries his PPM-geiger gadget in his left hand, taking readings of the air as he goes also, occasionally glancing at the screen to see what the sensors are picking up.

Phoenix has posed:
"So much for taking it easy." Jean teases Hank with no small degree of affection before she settles into business mode. As they're handed out, Jean puts on the shoe covers as well as takes a hint from the precautions. She pulls a hair tie out from her pocket and does quick work of binding her hair back before stepping inside. Less chance of shedding easily spotted copper hair.

<< Of course. >> Jean replies back to Scott as she begins her silent work. On the outside she just looks somewhat distant like she was only half listening, but then the other half of her focus is turned to her psychic powers. She doesn't just hone in on the mind of the detective, but the emotions sunk into the house itself that may be lingering, though fading as the people it originated from have gone.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn grimaces at the 'huge' comment.She's hardly 'huge' herself, though she's not tiny either but really, it's what's inside that counts and clearly this police woman is more than capable of defending herself, or she wouldn't be in this position in the first place.

Biting her lip as she peers about curiously, Megan keeps her mouth shut as she follows the others inside the house, while quietly hoping this little venture doesn't involve any horror levels of blood and guts. She's never been a fan of horror movies really..

Megan does arch a curious brow at beast though, "Ooh, Soo have you done this sorta detective work before then?Can I help,too?" of course he has. He's a super smart, more experienced super hero than she is. Ohh and a scientist too.

Storm has posed:
"I suspect so." Detective Moore waits until she walks inside. "I already know who the suspect is but I cannot really call them that." Her hands slip into her pocket so that she could avoid the need to touch, but she does create her own path around the mess of the house. "I know this is all too.." She couldn't find the words to explain it, but with her being a mutant herself, she knew how this town would react to one of theirs being one. And she was scared for the teen.

"I looked over every inch of this house and couldn't find a clue about what or where they could be. I can tell you something though, the family didn't know about this and neither did the .. well.."

The interior of the house was in shambles. The mess of the crime scene obviously preserved for the arrival of the X-Team so that they could conduct their own investigations. Pools of blood stain and stick against the carpet, number tags littered along the floor which seem knocked over under the assumption that it was swabbed and pictures taken.

Blood splatter along the walls as well, and oddly enough on the ceiling, which seems to be a concentrated stain as if someone was held there, then released below. The ceiling itself was a disaster, four diameter holes that punch through but never reaching the waxy fill that holds the shingles in place. It was telling that whatever happened was quick, as plaster remained all over the floor.

The detectives thoughts come fluidly, as soon as she thinks it, she says it. Emotional wise? Nearly nothing there.

"I'll run it down. Family of five. Neighbors say that they're pretty normal. Mon stays home, dad goes to work in town as a tour guide to the Badlands. Kids in school, good grades. A little bit of trouble but nothing anyone really bats an eye at. Neighbor hears smashing and screaming, calls the cops. Four vics, one missing. I said kidnapping because it just didn't smell right. My third eye opened."

She gestures around the house, noting where all of the blood stains were, pointing out the largest. "Father was found here. Mother over there." A point to the couch, but there was no clear indication of where she landed with her body missing.

"Kids bedrooms were upstairs. They didn't have a chance."

Cyclops has posed:
"Megan, stay outside for a moment and keep your eyes peeled." Scott calls over his shoulder once he spies all the blood splattered around the room. This is not something he wants her to see. "Let us know if you see anyone suspicious. In fact, do a quick flyover the house. Make sure that no one is hiding on the roof, or tucked away in the surrounding yards."

Taking a small flashlight out of his pocket, he shines it around the main room as he sizes up the destruction and the activity. "Which kid is missing? What's their name? Age? Physical description."

<< Jean, you know what to do. Hank, we should get your nose to work, see if you can catch a scent of the missing kid. >>

He rubs his jaw a bit as he clicks his tongue along his teeth.

<< Megan, as you fly around, let us know if you see /anything/. Check the landscape. We're missing a kid. May be a body, may be hiding. >>

Beast has posed:
"Hey, there's no heavy lifting involved, so I feel as if I'm still following orders." Hank murmurs, with a tap to his temple "...aside from that kind." "More times than I care to think about," Beast offers with a gentle tone and a small, but present smile. He nods, pulling out a high resonance camera device, which he hands to Megan. "Document the outside," the only instruction, that's really necessary for the moment, he pauses by each of the plaster scatters, holding his measuring device and blinking rather obviously several times, to scroll through computer interfaces on his spectacles, slowly working to measure scatter range, diameter of blood splatters, type of splatter pattern -- all the forensic information that can tell volumes by the application of math and studious (and often tedious) scientific experimentation by squints of the past. He glances to Scott and Jean, then starts murmuring such things as '...pounds per square inch of force by assailant...' and '...splatter pattern concurrent with...' muttermutter.

<<Already on that, I've been sniffing since I arrived. I'm going upstairs, to put scent to individuals. Work out which one isn't here.>> And also try and pick up on whether there's a more potent scent of fear, anger and/or otherwise from the missing individual. He breaks away, trotting upstairs with surprisingly light steps, for such a large lad, lithely avoiding evidence contamination.

Phoenix has posed:
Minding where she walks, Jean carefully picks her way through the house as she begins to look around. Psychometry isn't much in her wheelhouse, so the house itself has little to offer her. She looks towards any pictures to put faces to the individual, but that seems the extent of her physical investigations.

<< The detective seems to be an honest person. I'm not sensing signs of her hiding anything. >> She relays to the team before she carefully rests her fingertips to her temple. Mentally she reaches out, skimming the house for any signs of life and then expanding outward across the yard and surrounding area.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn pauses at the entrance to the house, trailing after the others and taking a deeep breath. Okaaaay, she's never been a fan of those freaking bloodied murder mysterious or horror movies or violent assault type movies, and she's really starting to wonder if she should even be here when.......!

Thankfully Scott gives her an out, and she smiles faintly at him , nodding, "Y-yes sir!" she nods and takes the camera from Hank, affixing it to her gold x-utility belt. "Okay, can do! Be right back!" and with that, Megan turns on her heel, spreading her wings as she takes to the skies, slowly circling the perimeter, flying up high enough to get a good view of the ground and surrounding area on her camera..

Though will she find anything this late after the crime was committed?

Storm has posed:
Detective Moore leans back as she watches the last in line.. well, flee the scene. She makes note of that later.

"Oh, lets see. Five five, one hundred and ten pounds. Brown hair. Male. Blue eyes. The name is Charlie Dixon." It was usual for them to not place a name when calling them the victim or suspect. At least to her, if they were a monster they did not deserve the honorifics their parents had given them.

She turns to watch the furred man scale the stairs, a slight grin upon her face. "Well would you look at that.." And soon, she gestures towards the kitchen so that they could follow her. "One thing that has me hoping that the kid is still alive is that the fridge is ransacked..."

The double doors to the kitchen open to a relativevly clean spot. Save for the mess that lies upon the floor. Leftover spaghetti looked as if someone dug a hand and splattered it upon the floor, dinner rolls were crushed but there is no evidence of a finger print. They were kicked aside, quite possibly by her own crime scene techs. Milk caps were open, but it carried an awful smell. While it was rotten, it smelled even more pungent than normal. Not like it was accellerated, but another chemical added.

The psychic resonance from Detective Moore gets louder in this area, quite possibly because she could smell it herself. Her hand lifts to cover her forehead as if she had realized something astonishing, but she didn't. She was hiding.

Henry's path takes him upstairs, where there's a bathroom upon the right. The door was cracked just a little, but the atmosphere in this area changes as well. It smells.. fresh. As if someone were hiking in a path, or had a brush with nature and left their clothes behind. Even the walls seem to glisten and look thicker than they were. Upon closer inspection, over by the two doors, dried sap seems to cling to the walls mid trickle.

Megan's track outside would give her an upward view of the family car. Perhaps this was missed in the initial investigation. Scrapes and scratches were along the top of the SUV, as if a rather large werewolf had caused the damage. There was even a tiny dent, like someone landed atop of the SUV and jumped off immediately.

Cyclops has posed:
<< Hank, once you're done upstairs, take a sniff here near the kitchen. Looks like the fridge was emptied shortly after. Food on the ground. Sounds like someone was really hungry afterwards. >>

Nothing says working up an appetite like a little bit of murder.

Scott takes a look into the kitchen as well, rubbing a hand over his face in thought before he starts to move througout the rest of the downstairs. He'll look inside the basement if there is one and the closets as well. He'll flash his light around to try and find anything that may stand out.

<< Check the bedrooms also Hank. See if anyone was taking clothing out. If he was going to raid the kitchen, he'd probably want to grab a suitcase and clothes also. Just want to rule out a kidnapping versus a runaway situation. >>

Beast has posed:
<<MMmn,>> Hank's mind is rather fuzzy around the edges, mostly because a million and one different thinks are flashing through it and subsequently, there's some background noise. He takes out a sample swab, gently scrapes a bit of sap from the bathroom wall and sniffs it. Yep, smells like...

<<The missing teen is some manner of dendromorph. Possibly even a dendrokinetic, but I can't tell much more without analysis. I have a sample, which I'll analyze when we're not in the middle of all this.>> He can no doubt tell which rooms had a massacre in them without going in, homing in on the one that smells like a Hiking trail, scanning over the interior and eyeing the window, closet, array and angle of the bed, to see if it was disturbed or ransacked. <<I have a feeling...>> -- and that smell from downstairs is likely absolutely rancid <<...oh my stars and garters, I need coroner's vaseline...>>

Carefully, he literally vaults over the bannisters to land, holding his forearm over his nose at the approach to the kitchen, holding out his chemical particulate PPM device to see what the composition of the Foulness <tm> happens to be. "That is /not/ just Sulphur dioxide..."

Phoenix has posed:
<< ...hm. The detective. She may know more than she's letting on. >> Jean's voice comes through the link, a bit distant as she concentrates but touched with the haze of suspicion. << I don't sense anyone else in the house or outside except us and the neighbors. But... >>

She trails off for a moment as her brow furrows and her head tips towards the front door. << The neighbors. Across the way and down one - no two. They're unsettled. Suspicions. Police not telling them anything. They... maybe know what happened. May have happened. I can go try and speak to them while you three work here. I'm not one of the officers. They may be willing to speak to me. >> Or she just gets the info.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn continues to slowly circle the perimeter up above, dark eyes narrowed and carefully sweeping the area, and thankfully the camera has one of those little night lights on it so that she doesn't have to feel around in the darkness as she co to use to snap pictures..

When Megan spies the SUV parked a little ways down, she frowns deeply, hovering closer to it for a better look. <<Uhh...Guys, this is nuts..Family SUV is badly dented and scratched..Looks like it was attacked by a giant wolf like animal...Werewolf?!>>

Yiiiikes..She examines the lawn next, snapping more photos..<<Meep! erratic holes in the lawn, leading to the back..I'm gonna check the backyard now..>> she shivers and draws a deep breath, rising higher as she flutters around the back of the house.

Storm has posed:
Still with her hand upon her forehead, her lips scrunch up into a bit of anger as she looks off into the distance. While others collect evidence and themselves, she moves to the kitchen counter to turn her back away from the windows. "Sorry." She mutters to Jean, finally lowering her hand to reveal that third eye. She wasn't kidding, she really did have a third eye. It blinks like the rest of her eyes, but it does move on its own. It was surveying the room, and whatever reaction it was having, Detective Moore was disconnected from it. This was from hiding herself for so long..

The downstairs was normal, which is telling. Concrete floors and stone walls make up the foundation. Egress windows that look freshly built were placed in calculated places. There were boxes of old clothes and toys pushed up against the wall, which looked messed in but normal. Some other boxes contained old photos of the family and the children when they were babies.

In the far end corner of the basement was the wash room. The large concrete sink, a washer and dryer hookup, appliances look almost outdated from the 90's. This area? Complete dead end. Death didn't touch this place.

Hank's arrival into the kitchen startles Detective Moore, the eye upon her forehead widening then lowering as if it were sneering. "What?!" Detective Moore looks around. "Sulphur dioxide? What are you on my man?!"

The trail that Megan spies does indeed lead further away from the house and into a cluster of high trees. It's clear, that if Megan keeps moving forward, she would eventually hit the Badlands National Park.

Cyclops has posed:
"Based on what I'm hearing from all sides is that this kid can turn himself into a tree, leaped out the window and landed on the car outside, scratched it all up to hell, booked it through the yard." Scott says as he makes his way back through the huge living room. "So most likely the kid's powers kicked in, could have gone a bit wonky and freaked out. May have killed his family by accident, or, someone else did and he still lashed out with his powers. Can Hank see the bodies?"

He folds his arms over his chest as he thinks for a moment, tracking Hank's run towards the kitchen. His brows lift upwards some. "Whatcha got there, Hank?"

<< Yes, sounds like a great idea. Take Pixie with you and cloak her appearance. Make her look like a normal girl. It seems like she caught a trail outside. >>

Beast has posed:
"Rotten eggs," Hank helpfully supplies to the detective. "...sorry, bad humour. It avails of me, when I am assaulted by bad stenches, diffuses tension..." McCoy crouches though, now that he knows what he's looking for and counts sap drops. More importantly, he also scans for some rather less normative kinds of airborn particulates, left behind: Biosignatures of such things as dermestid enzymes, coprophytics and more importantly: Saprophytes. Plants after all, mostly convert sunlight and water, but they also break down organic matter, sometimes at a rate of knots. His gaze is fixed on the PPM meter. "...I have a hunch. It's always traumatic, after all. But occasionally, it can be exceptionally traumatic, to manifest." Sayeth the man that knows this very well indeed.

Phoenix has posed:
<< If she's got a trail, then I'm going with her. >> Jean states over the link before withdrawing her focus and turning it towards Megan. << If the trail is fresh, Megan, we should investigate. If it's old, then let's speak with the neighbors to get some more information. We can follow the trail after. >>

As she talks, she starts moving through the house towards the front door to go outside, still minding where she walks.

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn blinks slowly as she looks around. <<Umm Okaay, the trail leads to the badlands..I dunno about this..>> really, she really doesn't wanna meet whoever or whatever banged up the SUV and created those holes. And her steps slow a bit, glancing around. <<Umm it's leading to the badlands but I gotta baad feeling about this..>>

She frowns a bit as she peers more closely at the marks, <<Hmm they seem fairly old, Soo...Should we talk to the neighbors first then?>>

Storm has posed:
Detective Moore knew she made the right choice in involving them. Her decades of hiding who she was pretty much left her out of the business like this. "I imagine all kids who 'awaken' as they call it freak out. I remember not being too happy with three eyes." It blinked.

"But that's my logical assumption. But it's an assumption, working theory. There's no telling if this was intentional or not, the havoc in the kitchen and the way the holes were busted into the house.." She sniffs and then nods. "Yeah, I'll set it up with the coroner. He's pretty much waiting at my request to hold the bodies. But.." She glances towards Hank. "..this place isn't too friendly with mutants. The coroner is fine, but.. I'll get Hank in. Don't worry about it.."

Mental gears were working overtime at how she'd do this, but it was going to get done regardless. She watches at Jean's back as she departs, then glances towards Hank. "Mm." Is all she could offer to his hypothesis, hand shoved back into her pocket but head dipped low to try to corral in her 'mutant' as she calls it.

Cyclops has posed:
"Don't worry about it. Jean can make you see what she wants you to see. She'll make Hank look like any esteemed Doctor to the coroner. There's no need to get you in trouble or cause unnecessary paperwork." Scott says as he gives ar ub of his nose. "Megan found a trail outside that is leading to the woods, which cam probably serve is camoflauge or safety. Is there /anything/ that you may not be telling us and may wanto get it off your chest?" He asks the Detective rather bluntly.

"Because we work better when we have every box checked off. It helps Hank slow down a bit." He says as he glances over to his blue furred best friend with the big brain. "What is your hunch?"

<< Jean and Megan, go on ahead and follow this trail. Even if it's old, it may lead to something. Jean has the firepower for both of you if something goes weird. We can hit up the neighbors tomorrow in the morning when we get some sleep and work out the kinks. >>

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy straightens up, looking at the reading, then stares straight =through= the Detective. He does a similar thing to Scott, looking at his friend, but not really seeing him, looking through, beyond. At the wall, then up at the ceiling holes, one by one. He then turns about, sliding the PPM meter into his pocket and goes to the front door, looks about and removes a tiny laser pointer.
Floor, there's a droplet of what looks like resin, highlighted by the laser's red beam. Then, tracked to the wall. Left wall. Right handed assailant. Down a bit, lower than the assailant; superior height. Punched down. Sap that hit the wall and behaved a bit like blood.
    And then as Beast moves, he points at the hole in the ceiling, into it and highlights ceiling joists, seemingly busted through, in a 'burst' format from... pointing at the floor. Right about where the splatter pattern of sap was found.
    And about, around, those little drops trailed all over the place, like blood from a wound, only slower, because of it's nature. "...Came in. Front hall confrontation. Mother cries out," he gestures with the lazer, like he's sweeping an arm out to the side, then turns to look toward the couch. "No struggle. Sudden and sharp." And back up at the ceiling, at the holes and contortions. "But those are where the bedrooms are... Oh, Od's teeth, this all happened so fast. I think it got out of his control faster than he knew what to do about it. But he got struck. The kid that's missing, that is. His blood is all over the place down here."
    He walks to the fridge then though and points to the pasta and milk curdle disaster, searching through it until he highlights a pinkish-greenish mess. "Detective? You might want to have that sent off with the coroner, too. It might be a match to... I would guess, the father."

Phoenix has posed:
<< We'll keep you in the loop. >> Jean returns to Scott by way of acknowledging the directive. She crosses around towards the back yard and her eyes seek out Megan. "Alright. Stick close. Keep to the air but stay low so people don't spot you. We don't need to spur more anti-mutant sentiments if people start seeing us hovering around a crime scene."

She reaches down to pull the booties off and pocket them so she can get better traction for the hike. "Let me know if you spot anything. I'll monitor the trail, Logan's taught me a bit about how to follow them over the years. If we encounter trouble, the goal is to subdue and put them out, not down."

Pixie has posed:
Megan Gwynn blinks and nods, moving towards Jean as she steps out. "Right..lI can do this.." she doesn't like to be made useless and she has her own means of protecting g herself, even if sheer brute force isn't her forte.

"Okay, I can do this, let's go!" she nods to Jean, heading skywards again as they move towards the spooky badlands..Megan has her camera and light at the ready for anything..

Storm has posed:
"She ain't doing that now is she?" The Detective said. She was fine with it, but she was sure that Charles had mentioned she was a mutant as well, if the third eye didn't make it completely obvious. Though, his latter words to her drew a little bit of a pause. Her jaw hardens as she looks Scott dead in the glasses. "No." And it was the truth, the way she held that little temper in was magnificent, everyone else would have gotten the business end of her tongue.

As Hank begins to move around and survey the scene, reading off a clear guess of what could have happened. With the way everything was laid out, it was a 95% chance that the Big Blue was right. "Well I'll be goddamned.." She mutters to herself, looking around upon the floor to snatch a paper towel from the discarded roll. Where most would cringe and possibly lose their lunch, the ones present wouldn't have, as she reaches into the mess to pick up the chunk of the Father discarded there. "See? This is why I call Charles in a pinch. Man can't make it himself.. he sends the best of the best.." Compliments all around..

Jean and Megan come up against a dead path. Where the holes in the ground stop; it takes on new life upon the trees. The trunks, eye level, all have the same holes, starting from the bottom which works their way up. The same sap was left behind, but the trail goes cold as it veers to the right. No holes, no sap. It was as if the teen had vanished where he stood.

"I think we're done here." Detective Moore said, retrieving her cell phone from her pocket. She dials a number and puts it to her ear, walking towards the front door at a careful path. "Alright boys, team no sleep. Time to pack it up, I'll buy breakfast."

It was going to be a very long night...

ELSEWHERE:

Charlie was cold, so cold. This was the spot where his sisters played, a cave that ran deep enough for someone to hide their treasures and trinkets. The young man was in pain, curled up, rocking back and forth, holding onto a barbie who looks gnarled and mangled through play, even tufts of hair missing but hidden with a red barrett.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.." He repeats, rocking back and forth, shivering, near choking from the smell that he had smelled before.. and even wondered about. He didn't want to be here, he couldn't stay.. he had to leave!

Charlie scrambles to his bare feet and begins to run, still out of breath from the strenous path he took to get there in the first place. Of all the things that could have been left behind, he kept in his hand. The ruined barbie that his sisters played with.