Description: Zach Glenn has placed himself on The Butcher Case. His first stop was to visit Agent Daniel Little, and was very informative for everyone involved.
This was a hell of a case so far.
Honoka was gone. After her attack at the hospital, the woman was situated in the hospital. Once her lawyer and friends got wind of her situtation, they dove on here like a falcon on a baby bunny rabbit. After the STPD got THEIR rights read to them, the woman was checked out of here with only a few minor fines slapped in her name. And whose fault was it that the lawyer came here, and her friends?
Certainly not Agent Little's.
The detective of Interpol was currently finishing up in Officer Louis's room. After the attack by the Butcher, the Officer was relocated to another room to rest and recover... though it looked like both wasn't happening. The officer was still delerious, the effects of the Butcher's 'soul devouring' still infesting him form within. Daniel Jack was just finishing up writing, his right hand finally unbound, while his left still heavily bandaged. He was able to wear a light dress shirt now; no more being topless in gauze. "Thank you, Officer Louis." Daniel concludes, as he finishes in his notepad. "I'll come back here to visit. You keep yourself rested, right?" Daniel had a few leads still. But first, he thinks as he begins to leave to the hallway, where the posted guards stood...
He had to talk to some people.
Funny thing, that. So did Captain Zach Glenn, United States Marine Corps. He had read about the Butcher's attacks in the paper, of all places, and decided to use some of what the Second Vanguard referred to as 'discretionary leave.' 'Discretionary leave' was codespeak in the Second for 'Off-the-books public duty,' and referred to a very broad category of situations. Monsters beyond the capability of normal police or military agencies definitely qualified. Such a capability would be dangerous in the hands of most people, which is why getting into the Second at all was as difficult as getting into just about every other Special Operations outfit, the Secret Service, and the NSA, combined.
Once Zach had started to look into the situation, he was directed to look up one Agent Daniel Little. This drew a smile from the Marine; Zach knew the man to be surprisingly competent. He was also directed to Southtown General Hospital.
So Captain Glenn arrived in his service uniform: khaki long-sleeve button-up shirt and pants, a khaki web belt, and a khaki tie. A green coat is draped over his left arm, which also holds a hard framed service cap. Zach spots the Agent, and makes his way toward the Agent.
"Agent Little," he calls out by way of greeting, "Good to-" Zach pauses, his demeanor faltering slightly as he gets a good look at Daniel. Zach frowns, leaning in slightly, and seeming to stare /through/ Daniel.
"What..." Zach's frown deepens, and he blinks slowly once. "What happened to you, man? It's like you're not all here."
Of all the people he expected, Zach was not one of them.
When Agent Little last met Captain Glenn, it was in a Neo-League fight in Translyvania. That was an incident... an incident that was certainly recorded. For the marine to show up here, in Southtown, in the hospital actually gives the man pause as he leaves the hospital room.
"Glenn?!"
The guards rise up, but Daniel, motioning to back down, steps forward in the hall. "Good to see you... too?" He continues, extending his right hand for a shake. As Zach's reaction of shock comes, the detective doesn't know quite what the matter was... until he blinks a few times.
"Oh, this?"
Daniel raises up his left hand, which was still bound heavily in gauze. "Don't worry about it. I had a run in with a psychopath. Lets just say he really, really messed up with my hand." The detective smiles a bit, an empty smile, as the ennui suddenly washes over him. "Nah, don't worry."
"What the hell brings a jarhead like you here?"
"Not the hand," Zach says, almost impatiently, as he shakes Daniel's hand. "The..." Zach frowns. Daniel might not have the right framework of knowledge. "Your... soul," he finally says. "It... it doesn't look /whole/."
"I'm here to help you with a case you're working," he says honestly. "But I'm starting to think you're in need of more immediate help," he says quietly.
"My soul?"
Daniel Jack's expression is confused, though he is smirking. He keeps that grip on Zach's hand tight, shaking it. Thoughts click. The woman, Honoka. Her arguments of the creature, the second sight. The detective's expression begins to turn alight as he finally pieces together what Zach was saying... and why.
"You're an -Empath!?-"
The words come from Daniel's mouth incredulously. "And you are here to help out my case? I... I don't know." He turns back to guards, and pausing, turns back to the room where Officer Louis is held. "But follow me. Tell me what you are doing, what you are, and... and..." Daniel wipes his face, as he enters the room where Officer Louis is held.
"What is it that you actually -sense?-"
"Psychic's another decent catch-all," Zach says as he follows Daniel back into the room. "There's a more accurate, long-winded explanation for it, though." He walks into the room.
"As for the other questions," Zach says quietly, studying Officer Louis carefully. "I'm here on a sort of official-unofficial business to help with the recent spate of assaults you are currently investigating. The administrative terms of it, I'm not at liberty to discuss." Zach frowns, taking in the sight of both Daniel and the officer in bed. "I'm human, just like you. Maybe differently gifted, but still human at the end of the day." Glenn considers carefully, and then nods towards a chair while grabbing one of his own to sit in.
"I'm going to assume you know a bit about chi," he says. "There is another type of energy that some people can tap into. It's got a lot of different names, but the easiest way to think of it is energy of the mind. Everyone has both chi and this energy in them. The vast majority of fighters utilize chi to do some of the extraordinary things that they do. Using a thing, manipulating it to do something useful, requires that you be able to sense it. The ability to sense it shows itself differently from person to person. For some, it functions as a sort of danger sense. Some can pick up the thoughts or emotions of others. I do a little of both."
Zach stares at the bed-ridden officer. "He," Zach says with a nod toward the man, "Looks like someone took a chunk of what makes him, well, him away. Same with you." Zach pauses. "Which... if I wasn't sitting here, seeing it for lack of a better term, I would have said was impossible."
"'Psychic?'"
The word comes out of Daniel's mouth in hushed tones, as the glares of the guards sink into his stomach. Just like with Interpol. A lot of people were... allergic to the supernatural. The mutterings of Daniel's own investigations is what likely led to his own 'unusual' assignments... like this one. Hastily, Daniel leads the Marine into the hospital room, where upon a bed, Officer Louis lays wordlessly.
"Okay, uh, I kinda understand it."
That is what Daniel states, as he fumbles around his pockets. Pulling out his notepad, he immediately begins writing down what Zach had said. "Human like me. Like... Honoka. Huh." The detective repeats. "Okay, so you can sense... yeah. Okay, I think I understand. Right." Daniel Jack nods, blinking several times. "I can relate the symptoms to you. Loss of personality. Lack of focus. Delrium. Nightmares. And... what's that low blood iron thing. Whatever that is. It is like a wasting, some kind of rot. And..." Daniel Jack pauses, looking at Louis. "That Butcher thing?" Daniel glances at the doorway, where the STPD stand guard. He lowers his voice.
"He apparently eats souls, I think?"
"That tracks," he says quietly. "It'd almost be mistaken for depression, if you didn't know where, or how, to look." And then the rest of Daniel's statement sinks in. Zach visibly stiffens. "Honoka? Japanese girl, about five-six? Black hair, purple highlights?" Zach turns to fully face Daniel, intent, clearly worried.
Daniel Jack nods along with Zack's assessment.
"Yeah. Circus girl. Came here dressed as a fresh med student or something, and ended up getting soul eaten by The Butcher when he came in. I tried to help her, but..." He raises up his left hand. "She has the symptoms worse; but if you were hoping to see her, I'm sorry man. She just checked out of here with her lawyer and friend. She was terrible, she barely could form together words..."
"... But she said something about the creature..."
"She was a psychic too, I think, just like you." Daniel Jack taps his head. "She said that when she looked into the creature, trying to get a read on it or something, she sensed multiple souls in it. Like, the parts that it bit off? It kept in it, as a whole collection. So me, and..." Daniel Jack trails off, his eyes going unfocused for a moment. "... And... Honoka!" He snaps to attention. "And Officer Louis here? Our souls are still in that creature." He pauses again, a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.
"You think you can bust him open like a pinata?"
Zach's face goes pale when Daniel explains what happened to her, and he stares off into the distance. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I..." Zach thinks about this for a second. "If he fought you and Honoka, and walked away from the fight, then he's a bit beyond my ability to handle by myself."
Zach tilts his head to one side, considering. "But outside of that little complication," he says with a certain grim determination, "The idea seems sound." Zach thinks about things for a moment.
"I... think I might be able to help you and the officer out in the short term, though," Zach says carefully a minute or two later. "It... would be something of a band-aid, not corrective surgery, though."
"Help?"
Daniel Jack tilts his head. The whole thing seemed... odd. When Daniel expected help from Zach, if any help, it was a form of muscle and understanding. Zach could... sense what this creature was, under the mask. And he also was one of the few people who kicked Daniel's ass. The fact of the matter was that Zach had kicked Daniel to the curb in a fair fight. So when it came to being a bandaid, well.
The detective was skeptical.
"There isn't medicine for this, Zach." Daniel tries to explain, chopping his left hand forward. "I mean, you can't just fix a soul. There are whole religions about just how immortal your soul is. I mean, the only reason why... why I can do this, is from nearly a decade of training my focus. And I -still- keep losing it." The detective turns his head to the delirious Officer Louis.
"What can you even do for a man like that?"
Zach stares at Officer Louis, silently. He does this for a good ten minutes, seeing and at the same time not seeing the surroundings. The question is a good one. "You're wrong, sort of," Zach says. "About not being able to heal a soul. Happens all the time, really," he says as he slowly stands up, his eyes not really focused on anything.
"That little surge of pride when you close a case, or master some really difficult technique," Zach says. "Those moments where you feel impossibly good, or incredibly happy. Or when you are enjoying yourself in good company. Those things... they're 'good for the soul,' right?"
Zach takes a couple of what Daniel might take for cleansing breaths. The Marine rubs his hands together slowly as he walks towards Officer Louis. "It's not all that different, really," he says quietly, almost reverently, "From someone being with you when you are sad, or desperately alone." It's faint at first, but Daniel may notice a flicker of gold dancing around and across Zach's hands has he rubs them back and forth, as if trying to work some warmth into them. Zach's breaths are slow, deliberate things. It might remind someone of a person focusing before performing an exceptionally difficult task.
"That person lends you a little bit of their soul," Zach says as he seperates his hands. Motes of gold, and a few of green, hang suspends between his palms. The trail of lights and sparks sags in the middle, like dough. Zach exhales as he places one hand on Louis' solar plexus. The mystical point representing identity, ego, the sense of 'self'.
"If a person is willing," Zach places his other hand on the man's brow. The center of the mind, the ability to seperate reality from fantasy. "I can lend them some of my own strength, to help them find their way. To light their path. To lift their burden from them."
Zach attempts to lend Officer Louis some of the profound strength of his own soul, and golden light washes over both men in the working.
"Well, yes, that's what I do all the time-"
That was Daniel's initial response, before cutting himself short. Yes, that is what he did all the time. He would surge with pride, with resolve, with inner confidence. He did have that sort of confidence that fed his inner drive, that in turn... was the light that kept flooding him.
The light that kept him fighting The Butcher.
"I think I understand, but... how can you just give someone that?" Was what Daniel Jack questions. As Zach approaches the downed officer, the detective stands beside him, readying his notepad to take notes of what he sees. And as he sees that golden light... he scribbles. Studying. Observing. Listening. "Sharing... souls?" He states aloud, asking. And then, Zach places his hands upon the Officer.
And what happens next astounds him.
Officer Louis shudders, at first, from the touch. But as the hands are left on, the healing process begins. The officer calms down, relaxing. His eyes flutter, still staying shut. The nightmares were fading, the delirium was gone. And in its place... was peace. Officer Louis does not wake, no. But for the first time, in several days?
He falls into a peaceful, restful slumber.
Daniel Jack stares, eyes wide. "Did you..." He begins. He didn't understand what he saw. "Was that... healing powers? Did you give up your soul? Did..." Daniel Jack takes a deep breath, as the soul rot seems to surge to a head. Ennui takes over, as he relaxes into a near stupor.
"... Did you fix him?"
Zach takes a half step away, and lets out a tired sigh. That's about as much exhaustion as pride will let him show, but Daniel will notice the faint traces of fatigue in the Marine if he looks closely enough.
"Said it before," Zach says quietly. "We do that all the time. The sharing, I mean. When we let other people into our lives, when we help them get through a crisis, or celebrate an event." He takes another long breath, looking over Louis one more time. "I still have my soul," he says with a soft smile. "He still has what he has of his."
"I stopped it from getting worse. I..." Zach frowns, considering. "Whatever did this to him, it was bad... and I don't think he'll actually get /better/ until we deal with it."
"Oh."
That is Daniel's answer, as he looks upon the slumbering form of Officer Louis. "That sounds... very intimate. A little too intimate for me." That is what Daniel says, as he watches Officer Louis having the symptoms faded. "But incredible. So he won't be... afflicted by the negative effects... until the light wears off?" That is how Daniel puts it, struggling through the logic of it. He focuses on Zach, focusing hard.
"But what about you?"
"How does the treatment affect you?"
Another deep breath. "Don't know how long it will last. Could only last the night, could last days, weeks. But that... would be much better than I'd expect." Zach says after a moment of thinking, taking stock of himself. He's in uncharted territory, here. He doesn't feel different in any significant way. He glances at Daniel.
"Makes me tired, mostly," the Captain says. "Like I just did the Crucible. Twice." Zach watches Louis sleep soundly, feeling some measure of pride. He helped, if only in a small way. "If you want, let me get some food in me, and I can help you out a bit as well."
So it wasn't gonna last.
The detective nods. Zach was... Zach was going to be useful. With his martial talent in tune with his... his psychic stuff, he was clearly going to be someone that Daniel Jack would need to get to the bottom of this case... and to finally track down The Butcher. What Zach was doing was what he needed. And while his motives were top secret, well, someone who was doing the right thing was doing the right thing. All Zach needed was his support, it seemed.
And, apparently, cheeseburgers.
"Food? Hell, for what you are doing, I'd buy you dinner for a month." Daniel Jack finishes his notes, before putting the notepad away into his pocket. "We need to talk anyways. There is... there is so much at risk here, so much at play. The monster... he seemed to like empaths like you. Like Honoka..." He falls silent a moment, as he begins to leave for the door. Let the guard stare at him. The ennui that was rotting his head was driven away now, this new breakthrough filling the detective with that burning spirit of Todoh. As he reaches the doorframe, he stops, turning to Zach.
"Do you know anybody else that could help us?"
Zach's motives aren't top secret. He's a protector, a guardian. This is part of what he /does/. The legal mechanisms by which he got on this case, though? Above Daniel's pay grade. Zach follows Daniel to the door. He grins tiredly.
Rose, and perhaps one other. If she managed what Zach /thinks/ she managed, well, not only was it a surprise to Zach, but maybe the answer to this problem. "A couple of people come to mind," Zach answers with a short nod. "One of whom I needed to talk to anyway. But I need some food first," Zach says as he scoops up his coat and hat.
And after that? A trip to the circus, and then to find a certain priestess.
Log created on 23:14:56 02/06/2015 by Zach Glenn, and last modified on 14:05:19 02/07/2015.