Log:Grimm Justice, Issue 1

2014/11/23 Frankie Grimm 1

Grimm Justice - The Case of the Rampant Platybear
Student Quarter The student quarter is north and west of the CBSU campus, and is entirely dependent on the university for its flavor, but its flavor is different. Much of it, especially in the back streets, is cheap housing, with students being the main tenants. On the three main roads, though - Courtland Way heading east, Harrisburg lane northwest, and Stardancer Boulevard south - are one or two grander buildings, most notably the stadium on Courtland and hospital on StarDancer. Along these roads, and scattered through the district, are other services such as students attract: fast food establishments, second-hand stores, laundromats, convenience stores, doughnut shops, and a small park. The average age of people on the street is markedly lower than elsewhere in the city, whether walking, cycling, hoverboarding or just hanging out.

Judging by the skies overhead, tomorrow was going to be one of those days about which rock ballads are written. Thick, dark clouds are rolling in from the east and the west as a pair of fronts try to link themselves to one another and fuel an even greater beast than either of them could have ever hoped to be. With how cool it is in Colonial Bay at this time of year, it promises to be slick out on the roads, but the real danger is always in that cold November rain.

Frankie Ghostfist, it should be noted, hates everything about the Student Quarter. Even the hospital. Most especially that yappy dog living in the wannabe sorority house over there. Also probably that guy carrying an architect's model into the MagLev station. No one can be up to any good at this hour, in this god foresaken weather, in this vile hive of hipsters and post-teenage drama.

At present, Frankie is perched atop a dumpster in an alley between a very suspicious Thai take out place and that tattoo parlor every college town has that specializes in tramp stamps and ankle dolphins for drunk co-eds streaming out of the upscale bar across the street. She is, mercifully, not in a business suit at the moment - though she's also not in her proper "business" attire either - just a pair of fatigue pants and about three layers of shirts that do very little to flatter her or provide much in the way of protection. Despite the coming storm and the greasy grime surrounding her, the gumshoe is hard at work trying to make sense of the tracks on the cinderblock wall in front of her.

There's another person who hates the hipsters and sorority sisters and frat boys. If the weather wasn't gloomy enough already, here strolls one Gabrielle Grimm past the trendy coffee shop that has a twenty minute wait for a cup of coffee based on the line inside. She much prefers the quieter one in Bridgend. Less chatty blondes and women with accessory dogs sitting in their purses.

For as gloomy as Gabrielle is, she's countered by her cheerful roommate. Usually. Except that Adam is freezing and bundled up with a big scarf wrapped around his neck, his nose reddened as he sniffles. Gabrielle, on the other hand, is dressed casually and not bundled up at all. Dark Capri cargo pants, an army green tank top, and the red flannel buttoned up half way over it with the sleeves rolled up to her elbow don't provide much against the cold, but Grimm isn't bothered at all.

As the pair pass the coffee shop, Adam says, "I can't take the cold anymore! I'm gonna--"

"Don't do it," Grimm warns."

"But!"

"Doooon't," Grimm warns again.

"I'm sorry! Forgive me!" Adam breaks the spoken rule and breaks off from his friend and jogs to the door of the coffee shop. "I'll catch you later! Promise!" he vows before ducking inside to stand at the line that's almost all the way to the door. Gabrielle sighs and refuses to join. She just turns to watch him give in to that awful coffee shop, then turns again to continue her journey.

The hairs on the back of Frankie's neck rise just as she seems to finally get a read on those tracks on the wall. She sniffs at the wind, grimacing at the schnoz full of rancid Thai she receives, but she follows that feeling in her gut. Frankie straightens up, boots starting to slide across the top of the dumpster as she does so, and turns to face Grimm's general direction.

When the door closes behind Adam, Grimm feels the wind shift outside. With the change in pressure, she feels something else. Actually, technically, she feels /TWO/ somethings else. Both are supernatural, both are in opposite directions. For reasons she cannot place right now, she gets the impression that one of these things is hunting the other; also the one being hunted is, itself, hunting something else.

Sliding completely free of the dumpster, Frankie lands with a dull *WHUD* of Army surplus combat boots on pavement. Quietly, the gumshoe skulks toward the alley's entrance, hazel eyes shifting around the streets as she seeks out that glimmer of magic to go with the gut check sensation of Power she feels.

A game of cat and cat and mouse. That -is- a strange vibe Gabrielle gets as she slides her hands casually into her pockets. Her shadow, however, keeps its hands at its sides, moving into a type of gunslinger's stance. The wind rustles her hair a little, and at least her shadow reflects that as well.

So what does she do? Try and figure out who the mouse is in all of this. Because that's what Grimm really cares about. She'll trash or scare off whatever supernatural baddies have decided to stalk the streets tonight, but she wants to make sure the intended victim in all this is safe.

She follows her hunch and turns about, sensing, feeling. Yes, maybe this way. She changes direction, heading for the hunter that's being hunted, in the hopes to find the one hunted that's not hunting anything. Maybe she's miscalculating which feeling to follow. She even had to do some double think and mathmatical reasoning to help with her decision. But now that it's made, she travels at a comfortably brisk pace.

Oh look. There's a Grimm walking through Frankie's field of vision, along the same rough route that that sensation of Power is moving along. Frankie narrows her eyes as her attention starts to center on Grimm, her unwitting hunter.

Which is precisely the point that the hunted hunter chooses to utter a long, loud, "AOW! AOW! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Frankie's head snaps up and twists so she half-faces the back end of the alley. Her own lips peel back in a silent snarl as she remembers her true prey.

Coyotes and wolves? In the city? This far from the zoo? Grimm's gaze turns in the direction of the loud howl. "Well, crap." That doesn't sound good. But it does sound helpful. She takes a step in the new direction and just flickers out of sight on the sidewalk, then flickers into sight closer to the howl without physically crossing any intervening space.

Hey look. Grimm's more than halfway down the alley now.

Frankie double takes when she finds herself presented with the back of Grimm's head from 50 paces. She looks back and forth a few times, assuring herself that there is, indeed, someone formerly from the sidewalk accross the street now present in the alley between herself and the prey.

"Uh," comes Frankie's quite intellectual and well-reasoned opening salvo. That it's coming from the hunter of hunters is just gravy.

It should be noted that there is some kind of scrabbling going on up on the roof of the building that dead-ends the alley. Something is up there. Something big. Something that probably does not want to play Scrabble.

Darn, overshot. Grimm's still getting the hang of her abilities. She half turns at the eloquent introduction and protest from Frankie, regarding her cooly for a moment. But soon, there's a spark of recognition. "Hey, aren't you...?"

Grimm cuts herself off as she looks up towards the scrabbling sound. "That, huh..." her brow furrows in a definite 'I don't like this' expression. Recognizing the detective from a billboard, she extends a hand palm up to Frankie. But it's not for shaking or introductions when there's something big, supernatural, and noisy in the area that needs to be dealt with.

"Need a lift?"

"Aren't I...?" MORBO HATES UNFINISHED INTERROGATIVES! Frankie quirks a speculative black eyebrow at Grimm, though her hazel gaze does swivel upward and to the right at the sounds of rooftop scrabbling. Her eyes flicker back to Grimm and that outstretched hand.

"Not especially," replies Frankie, tone flatly business-like. She shimmers in view of magesight, mystical energy being drawn into her form and channeled through her body to concentrate in and around her legs. A moment later, Frankie launches herself upward and to the right toward the rooftop. It's only 10m to the edge of the roof and a clear view of the hunter what's being hunted tonight.

Grimm clicks her tongue as she watches Frankie make the impressive jump. She's more impressed and curious about the energy she's drawing in. While Frankie draws in energy, Grimm draws in light and exudes darkness to the mystically sensitive.

Gabrielle's ascent is less effort, but also less impressive for it. Another shadow step, and she's just...there. On the roof. One supernatural entity facing off with what may be above. She has a pretty good idea based on the tell tale howl. Which is why when Gabrielle reappears, she's nothing more than a shadow of her former self in a literal sense. Her body is dark, rich black and semi-transparent.

Frankie steps off of the edge of the roof a moment or so after Shadow Gabrielle arrives. She casts a sidelong glance at the nebulous, ephemeral darkform before her hazel eyes look down the length of the roof at the thing trying to rip open the exhaust venting for the Thai restaurant.

Based on its reaction, the creature seems to smell the ladies' arrival more than hear it or feel it. The thing straightens up after a few more seconds of trying to shred the metal, holding itself aloft on its digitigrade legs whilst its head is pointed up and nostrils flare to take in the smell of new prey. Covered in dense brown fur, it bares a passing resemblance to what one imagines when one thinks 'werewolf', though there's something off about its features.

Looking closer, the beast more closely resembles something out of a geneticist's maddest nightmares. Its head seems to be a bizarrely flawless fusion of ursine and rodentine anatomy, right down to the beady black/brown eyes that afford it limited mammalian vision. The torso is distinctly ursine in build and proportion, though its legs and tail are very much the vision of a murderous, 9' tall beaver. Plus, for giggles, it has arms apparently stolen from some kind of man-duck-monster.

"... Why is there a platybear in Colonial Bay?" inquires Frankie.

Grimm has to chew on that question for a few moments. The inside of her cheek assists in that endeavor. After some moments of silence, Grimm just mutters with a shake of her head, "This freakin' city, man." That's probably a good enough answer, given the city's history. And she's definitely one to talk, but c'mon! One may expect a shadowy being, necromatic queens from other dimensions, and strange spirits. Take Spirit, for instance. But a platybear? Those are usually associated with the land down under. Geographically speaking, it's much more unlikely to have one of those in Colonial Bay than the other odd spooks.

Coyotes and wolves? In the city? This far from the zoo? Grimm's gaze turns in the direction of the loud howl. "Well, crap." That doesn't sound good. But it does sound helpful. She takes a step in the new direction and just flickers out of sight on the sidewalk, then flickers into sight closer to the howl without physically crossing any intervening space.

Hey look. Grimm's more than halfway down the alley now.

Frankie double takes when she finds herself presented with the back of Grimm's head from 50 paces. She looks back and forth a few times, assuring herself that there is, indeed, someone formerly from the sidewalk accross the street now present in the alley between herself and the prey.

"Uh," comes Frankie's quite intellectual and well-reasoned opening salvo. That it's coming from the hunter of hunters is just gravy.

It should be noted that there is some kind of scrabbling going on up on the roof of the building that dead-ends the alley. Something is up there. Something big. Something that probably does not want to play Scrabble.

Darn, overshot. Grimm's still getting the hang of her abilities. She half turns at the eloquent introduction and protest from Frankie, regarding her cooly for a moment. But soon, there's a spark of recognition. "Hey, aren't you...?"

Grimm cuts herself off as she looks up towards the scrabbling sound. "That, huh..." her brow furrows in a definite 'I don't like this' expression. Recognizing the detective from a billboard, she extends a hand palm up to Frankie. But it's not for shaking or introductions when there's something big, supernatural, and noisy in the area that needs to be dealt with.

"Need a lift?"

"Aren't I...?" MORBO HATES UNFINISHED INTERROGATIVES! Frankie quirks a speculative black eyebrow at Grimm, though her hazel gaze does swivel upward and to the right at the sounds of rooftop scrabbling. Her eyes flicker back to Grimm and that outstretched hand.

"Not especially," replies Frankie, tone flatly business-like. She shimmers in view of magesight, mystical energy being drawn into her form and channeled through her body to concentrate in and around her legs. A moment later, Frankie launches herself upward and to the right toward the rooftop. It's only 10m to the edge of the roof and a clear view of the hunter what's being hunted tonight.

Grimm clicks her tongue as she watches Frankie make the impressive jump. She's more impressed and curious about the energy she's drawing in. While Frankie draws in energy, Grimm draws in light and exudes darkness to the mystically sensitive.

Gabrielle's ascent is less effort, but also less impressive for it. Another shadow step, and she's just...there. On the roof. One supernatural entity facing off with what may be above. She has a pretty good idea based on the tell tale howl. Which is why when Gabrielle reappears, she's nothing more than a shadow of her former self in a literal sense. Her body is dark, rich black and semi-transparent.

Frankie steps off of the edge of the roof a moment or so after Shadow Gabrielle arrives. She casts a sidelong glance at the nebulous, ephemeral darkform before her hazel eyes look down the length of the roof at the thing trying to rip open the exhaust venting for the Thai restaurant.

Based on its reaction, the creature seems to smell the ladies' arrival more than hear it or feel it. The thing straightens up after a few more seconds of trying to shred the metal, holding itself aloft on its digitigrade legs whilst its head is pointed up and nostrils flare to take in the smell of new prey. Covered in dense brown fur, it bares a passing resemblance to what one imagines when one thinks 'werewolf', though there's something off about its features.

Looking closer, the beast more closely resembles something out of a geneticist's maddest nightmares. Its head seems to be a bizarrely flawless fusion of ursine and rodentine anatomy, right down to the beady black/brown eyes that afford it limited mammalian vision. The torso is distinctly ursine in build and proportion, though

Covered in dense brown fur, it bares a passing resemblance to what one imagines when one thinks 'werewolf', though there's something off about its features.

Looking closer, the beast more closely resembles something out of a geneticist's maddest nightmares. Its head seems to be a bizarrely flawless fusion of ursine and rodentine anatomy, right down to the beady black/brown eyes that afford it limited mammalian vision. The torso is distinctly ursine in build and proportion, though its legs and tail are very much the vision of a murderous, 9' tall beaver. Plus, for giggles, it has arms apparently stolen from some kind of man-duck-monster.

"... Why is there a platybear in Colonial Bay?" inquires Frankie.

Grimm has to chew on that question for a few moments. The inside of her cheek assists in that endeavor. After some moments of silence, Grimm just mutters with a shake of her head, "This freakin' city, man." That's probably a good enough answer, given the city's history. And she's definitely one to talk, but c'mon! One may expect a shadowy being, necromatic queens from other dimensions, and strange spirits. Take Spirit, for instance. But a platybear? Those are usually associated with the land down under. Geographically speaking, it's much more unlikely to have one of those in Colonial Bay than the other odd spooks.

Frankie reaches up to rub the bridge of her nose whilst the platybear seems to spend several moments sizing up the two things that just appeared on the roof. Offering a vexed grunt/sigh, Frankie half-inquires, "You ever hunt a chimera before?" The other half of her tone suggests she expects the answer to be 'no' or something to the same effect.

Grimm may receive a reprieve from answering Frankie's question because the platybear finally offers a tremendous roar that sends ropes of spittle flying across the rooftop before it starts loping toward the heroines at speed. Well, it's charging at Frankie, at any rate. Being quasi-insubstantial, Grimm may or may not be getting ignored by the platybear and its terrible manners.

Or, you know, Grimm could receive a reprieve from answering Frankie because Frankie gets hit square in the chest with a platybear shoulder. She offers a harsh sound that defies description save to say it exemplifies 'having the wind knocked out of you' before she crumples double over the chimeric beast. When it digs its claws into the rooftop and comes to a skidding halt, Frankie goes sailing across the boulevard and through a second story window in the building across the street.

An overworked CPA may have just quit after screaming so hard and so loud her glasses cracked.

It would've been a very brief answer. Gabrielle's mouth begins to open to answer, but having one's conversational partner rudely and abruptly depart causes her to clamp her mouth shut again. And a platybear, she can assume, makes for a bad replacement partner. Especially with its tendency to spit when talking. Time to get some distance.

The shadow disappears, flickering out of sight and then reappearing in the air above the rooftop by a few meters. She starts to become solid, and real, and colorful again as she floats there to watch the platybear. Gabrielle has a way with animals and occasionally people if they don't piss her off. Black energy begins to outline her body and rise off of her like steam. So what does the Conduit of the Dark do when faced with a rampaging beast? Unleash hell and nightmare? Summon shadowing claws from the nether to tear it apart? She takes a deep breath as she musters her most commanding voice and shouts at the Platybear.

"Sit, boy! Roll over!"


 * WHUMP*

The platybear abruptly just sits down, its beavery tail slapping on the rooftop a few times. It apparently understands sit, though perhaps not roll over?

"Who's a good boy? YOU'RE a good boy!" Gabrielle coos as she hovers in the air. Now, what were chimera again? Mythology class covered them. She initially thought it was maybe a wereplatybearpus. Or a platypus that was turned into a werebear? Something like that. It wouldn't due to accidentally hurt something that may just be a potential victim.

Short form: Chimerae are blended creatures, featuring the traits of two (or more!) distinct beings.

There are specific descriptions of THE chimera from Greek mythology, though the term has come into use in scientific circles - specifically biology and/or medical fields - to denote beings with multiple sets of genomes. Typically this is the result of one twin (re-)absorbing another twin in utero, early on in the pregnancy.

Modern occult lore seems to apply the term chimera to any creature that seems to be a fusion of two or more creatures. There are several documented cases sprinkled over the Internet, heronet, and assorted news archives of chimerae created by magicians - either by accident or by intention - and others created by various kinds of science. It's not clear what created your platybear, though it is definitely pinging your sense for the supernatural.

The platybear continues to pound the rooftop with its beaver tail as it is praised for being a good boy. It may, actually, be a good girl, but well. Who can tell with platybears, amirite?

Grimm is completely clueless on the anatomy of platybears. While she has the creature behaving, she calls across the street to the broken window of the CPA firm Feldman and Haim Associates. "Are you alive over there? Just groan if you are!" Frankie takes a recovery.

Frankie offers a miserable groan as she starts to stir. She eventually appears in the gaping void that used to be a window and squints across the street at Grimm and the platybear. One eyebrow quirks upward as the gumshoe attempts to resolve what she's seeing with whatever she expected in her head.

The platybear, in the meantime, offers a standard Perry the Platypus style platypus sound. It may expect treats for being a good platybear.

Grimm shrugs and grins impishly at Frankie's expression. "So, uhh. The answer is no to that earlier question. And what do we do with a platybear?" That is a good question. Maybe the Zoo can find it a comfortable home to release it back in the while.

Gabrielle vanishes and reappears next to the Platybear, where she reaches up to scratch the furry area under its ...bill chin? That's what she's calling it if anyone asks her. She treats Perry the Platybear as if it were a big furry puppy. "Such a good boy. You'd better behave." She suddenly ponders what Platybears eat. What to Platypus eat, for that matter? Fish? Bears eat salmon. Maybe she can get some lox at the bagel shop three stores down.

Perry chatters his... Bill? How the hell is he making that noise anyhow?

Frankie peels herself out of the wreckage and disappears into the building again. She reappears about two minutes later, limping miserably across the street until she's back in the safety of the alley between the Thai place and the tattoo parlor. There is that strange build-up and release of magic from Frankie before she arcs up onto the rooftop again. No doubt she's seen better days.

"Depends on why it's in the city," comments a bloody and bruised Ghostfist. She shambles across the roof toward Perry and Grimm, hazel eyes carefully examining the seated and roof-thumping platybear.

Grimm keeps up with the scritches on Perry. She has a platybear pet now. Well, FOR now, anyway. That drooling is an issue. "That, I could possibly find out if it was intelligent enough. I haven't really tried thought peering that much. But perhaps I could look at its memories and see what brought it here."

She's just theorizing at best. Being new with her abilities, she's not sure how far she can stretch them. Mostly she's just put her mind to a task and it, sometimes, just happens. And then she has to figure out how the hell she just did what she did so she can repeat it.

"But." There's always a but, isn't there? Gabrielle adds a caveat. "I'm not sure that it won't start rampaging again as soon as I start trying to find that information out."

"Hrrng," comments Frankie. It's unclear if that's a good thing, a bad thing, or just... A thing. She waves Grimm off, presumably intending to silence The Darkness That Scritches, as she drops into a crouch alongside Perry. Frankie cocks her head to one side, regarding something on Perry very seriously.

"It's a pet," comments Frankie, pointing at something just under a patch of darker brown fur along the platybear's flank. Her hand may be shaking. Looking over at Grimm, Frankie comments, "Chimera don't usually come with a radio tag. I think we got to it before its owner did."

Pause.

"God damn. Thing hits like a freight train."

Grimm leans over to look where Frankie is pointing. "That doesn't look comfortable. Who the heck keeps a pet like this?" she asks as she keeps up with the scritches. . o O (And where do I get one?) She restrains herself from asking that part out loud. She looks from Frankie to the place around the street. "I'll say," she sympathizes somewhat. "That looked like it really hurt. But you were able to get up and get back here, so at least nothing's too broken or serious." The Darkness That Scritches looks on the bright side.

"I've had worse," comments Frankie. That may or may not be difficult to believe, considering how absolutely WRECKED she looks. A strong sigh could probably knock her over at the moment, the way she looks. "Rich people with connections. If I couldn't feel the magic binding it together, I'd say it was a gene job."

Perry the Platybear chatters in enjoyment of the continued scritches. It also snuffles at Frankie inquisitively, its chatter trailing off eventually as it considers the gumshoe.

"Big problem right now is we have to take custody of this thing until either Animal Control or its owner shows up."

Grimm looks to Frankie, then to Perry, then back to Frankie again. Her right brow pops up almost comically. "Do you think Animal Control would even be equipped for something like this?" She pauses to think about that. Well, it IS their best bet.

"Hmmm. I may be able to get it to keep behaving so Animal Control can deal with it. In the meantime, maybe the owner is nearby and trying to find it? Perhaps we could try signalling them. Or call the police department? They may have gotten a report on a missing platybear." Gabrielle sighs slightly. "And filed it under crank calls, maybe."

"No. Animal Control is never equipped for monsters," comments Frankie. She has, somewhere along the way, slid a hand behind her back. The gumshoe straightens up slowly and by measures, keeping herself stable on her own feet mostly by experience.

"In my experience, there's really only two things we could do here. I imagine, since you seem so attached to it, we're going to have to go with option two: Turn it over to the zoo." Frankie sounds quite nonplussed by this option. She frowns slightly, watching Perry as it continues to thump its tail against the roof. No doubt a city inspector is going to shut this place down for a full roof reconstruction.

"I'm guessing option one was to put him down," Gabrielle asks, perhaps not too keen about that. Then again, she wasn't the one who got to play tackle football with the beastie. Grimm is doing her part to destroy public property by patting Perry on the shoulder.

"The Zoo isn't that far." Shadows are everywhere, so nothing is really far for her. "I can get us there, no problem. It might startle this guy, though."

"That's usually how a hunter deals with its prey," comments Frankie. She doesn't bother to elaborate, removing that one hand from behind her back. For the moment, she continues to appear unarmed. Reaching up with one hand to rub her forehead, Frankie comments, "After that, if you could drop me at CB Memorial, I'd appreciate that. Now that I've got health insurance, I'm damned well getting what I paid for."

"Well I understand killing a monster that's rampaging. But if it's just an unusual animal that's lost and confused, well. No reason if there's no need." Grimm pats Perry again and holds on to its upper shoulder, then looks to Frankie. "This may be a bit disorienting if you haven't been translocated before," she warns as she gently moves to clap a hand on Frankie's shoulder.

"It's always disorienting," remarks Frankie. She grits her teeth as the hand comes down on her shoulder.

Perry makes an even more curious noise than he has been. His head twists to regard Grimm and Frankie simultaneously, though with those bear eyes it's questionable just how much actionable intelligence it gains from looking.

There's a momentary sound building up, like hissing that sounds like dark whispers in an echoing room. For Perry, Frankie, and Grimm, everything goes dark for just a second, like someone just shut off the lights. When the 'lights' come back on, they're standing (or sitting, in Perry's case) outside of the Zoo entrance. The only real disorienting part of the trip is that the surroundings have changed.

Frankie looks queasy when the translocation is done. Even so, she soldiers through and staggers/shambles toward the zoo's gate. The gumshoe grunts once or twice along the way before she reaches it and hits the intercom button. Presumably security will come along in the next few minutes to find out what the heck is going on outside the gates.

Perry growls lowly for a long few moments after the translocation, like he's trying to intimidate an enemy. He finally gives up on it and loudly *TWHACK*s the pavement with his beaver tail. There are cracks in the ground now as Perry looks inquisitively toward The Dark That Scritches.

Grimm resumes her scritches. "Shhh. Good boy. Food? You want food? They'll probably have something for you." She continues her job of keeping the Platybear placated while Frankie does all the real work.

Perry helpfully chatters his pleasure at the renewal of scritches. His tail also regularly hammers the pavement outside of the zoo. Some poor guy is going to spend all of tomorrow patching the densicrete.

Frankie leans up against a conveniently placed section of fencing next to the gate until security arrives. She straightens up and offers her most charming smile. It's probably not super charming right this moment, she looks rather a mess - what with all of the masonry and broken glass stuck to her hair and dusting her face and shoulders - thanks to Dear Friend Perry.

"Hi, guys. I'm Frankie Ghostfist, P.I. My associate and I were wondering if you could take custody of an extremely rare animal that we found roaming the streets of the Student Quarter while we were investigating a tax dodger."

The guards look nonplussed.

Seriously. This town. Gabrielle's still getting used to all these strange occurances, having just moved here.

"Is everyone in this town so...jaded?" Grimm hazards to ask. Because if they are, then maybe this really is a good town for someone like her. Then she looks to the guard and grins impishly. "He's a really good boy if you give him pets. But he's also meta strong. We couldn't find his owner."

The security guards take a step back, speaking in soft tones that Grimm suspects do nothing to keep Frankie from hearing them. Frankie straightens herself out a bit more, though this requires a lot of grimacing and flexing of joints as she powers through the pain. By the time the guards turn around, Frankie almost looks like she did before she got shoulder checked through a building.

Across the street.

Off a roof.

"At the very least, maybe your vet can sedate him until the cops can come. You and I both know animal control doesn't have anything to handle something like this."

The lead security guard rolls his eyes and groans. "Yeah. Fine. C'mon, let's get this thing of yours down to a holding cell. Simmons, go get the doc."

Simmons, obediently, sets off to find the veterinarian on duty for the night. The lead security guard unlocks and opens the gate, looking expectantly over at Grimm and Perry.

Grimm isn't so sure this will work, but the sooner Perry is secured, the sooner Frankie can take advantage of her health coverage. She starts walking forward, breaking hand contact with Perry as she moves a few feet away from him. "C'mon, Perry. Come!" she says in a cooing voice most people use with puppies and dogs, hoping Perry will lumber along to get more scritches and pets.

Perry hesitates a moment before obeying Grimm's command. It rises to all fours and starts lumbering along in her wake as Frankie stands up straight. Her hazel eyes flicker over the surroundings once or twice before she focuses on the security guard.

About a second later, after the gate has creaked open, Frankie and the guard both look at Grimm. With one voice, they both incredulously inquire, "Perry?"

Grimm shrugs at the question in stereo. "Whaaat?" she says defensively. "I had to call him -something-. My name's Gabrielle Grimm. I thought Platybear Perry was funny. Oooo, how about Pat? Short for Patches? Since he's like two animals patched up together," she converses rather casually giving the situation, leading Perry or Patches the Platybear inside and following where the security guards lead to a holding cell.

Frankie shakes her head. The security guard helpfully mutters, "Perry." Clearly they are an excellent tag team duo of dismissal. The troupe march into the zoo and toward a secured holding pen where Simmons and a veterinarian await.