Answering the Call

[Wyll Wyldclay]

Katarina, still in the garage, was leaning up against the hood of her car lost in thought. That is, until the clacking sound of a shotgun being cocked snapped her out of her pondering.

"Evening, Siren," Wyldclay said, levelling the shotgun at Katarina. "Or is it morning? It's so hard to tell in here sometimes."

They tossed a collar to Katarina, with a red jewel on the front. "Put it on. We've got a mission to take care of, and unlike your regular partner, I'm not one to take unnecessary chances. Plus, I'd get indigestion if I tried to devour you whole should you go off the rails."

Katarina glared at Wyll for a moment, before reaching over to pick up the collar. "You know, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," she said, putting the collar around her neck. The jewel glowed red, and Katarina winced as the thing tightened around her throat.

"A common misconception, easily falsified by numerous trials," Wyldclay grinned, lowering the shotgun. "We deal with the truth around here. Almost exclusively," they added, cackling at their own private joke.

"Where's Ryn? I don't fancy going out without my regular partner," Katarina said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, that's the fun part," Wyldclay grinned, dropping a folder on the hood of the car. "We've got reports in from the City of Angels about murder, and abominations, and a crazed woman ripping people apart like twigs. Your little Deva has gone off the deep end, and we need to put a stop to it before the veil is shattered too deeply. We've got witnesses to mindwipe, viscera to clean, and a rogue agent to pacify. That's where you come in. You've got your voice and, of course, the sniper rifle you think no one knows about under the passenger seat. Shall we get going, then? You can drive."

[Wyll Wyldclay]

"Ryn wouldn't go around killing people," Katarina said, her voice raspy from the collar. She crossed her arms and refused to look at the folder the Wyldclay had dumped on the dash. "If this is even her -- which I doubt -- I'm sure there is a logical explanation for everything."


"Oh, of course! Logic and Ryn go together like peanut butter and two-stroke engine oil," the Wyldclay grinned, sprawling over the hood of the car. "I'm sure you can ask her when you see her. And if you go in unprepared, maybe she'll rip that pretty little throat of yours out and solve YOUR problem at the same time! Win win situation!"

"Seriously. Get in the car," they added. "I am doing you a favor by getting you in on this, because believe you ME, no one else would give her more than a moment's chance. I'm doing you a favor, you can thank me later."