Why was he following this woman again? Yeah, she had saved his life, so there was that going for her. But she had also had a hand punched fully through her body, and yet she was walking around like it was nothing worse than a paper cut. She had thrown a coat over herself to hide the hole in her uniform, so at least people weren't looking at her in horror. They had been walking for nearly half an hour, and even his long legs were having trouble keeping up with her brisk, bouncy pace. He knew this city pretty well, but they kept making twists and turns down back alleys, and he was sure they went in a circle more than once.
Finally, he had enough of just following in silence. "Hey! Just where the hell are you leading me?"
Ginny turned, walking backwards at the same speed as before. "I told you! I'm taking you to Noxumbra HQ!" She spun back around on her heel and kept moving.
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, and what the hell is Noxumbra exactly?"
She held up a hand, pointing at the sky. "It's the people I work for!" Her tail swished behind her as she giggled. "You'll find out more when we get there! Trust me, it's best to see it for yourself first. We're almost there."
Tag rolled his eyes. She had said that ten blocks ago. "Shouldn't we have at least... I dunno, done something back there with the body?" They had just kind of left him there on the floor in a pool of blood. "I mean, there were plainclothes cops right outside the building. Someone probably called in about all that noise you made..."
She shook her head. "Nah. It's fine. One of our cleanup teams is probably already on it." Cleanup teams? That was worrying. What kind of an organization needed a team to clean up dead bodies? Just what the hell had he stumbled into this time? "And we're here!" He nearly walked right into the back of her as she stopped dead.
He looked around. They were in a dead-end alley between a bunch of warehouses. "Oh... a dead end. Great. Is this where you plan to dump my body next?"
She smiled at him sweetly. "Nah. If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be a corpse!" The cheerful way she said that only unsettled him all the more. "No. This is the back door. Trust me, it's a lot easier than the front." She pushed one of the bricks into the wall and it sank in. As it clicked, a section of the wall slid away, revealing an elevator with smooth metal walls and no features. "In you go!"
Shaking his head, he stepped into the elevator at her suggestion. "Well, let's see what the land of Oz is like."
She stepped in after him. "Oh yeah, I read that one." She poked a button and the door closed. "Saw the movie when it came out, too. Liked the book more."
He just stared at the back of her silver-haired head as the elevator started to descend. "When it came out? That was almost 90 years ago! You look younger than I am. You're, what... 26? 27?"
She giggled. "Aw, that's sweet, but no. I'm actually 571."
He continued to just stare at her, incredulous. "Five hund- what!?" She just giggled softly. "What, are you going to tell me you're a vampire? I already saw a werewolf today. Just need a mummy to complete the set..."
She shook her head. "No, not a vampire or a mummy. I am undead though." She flashed him that same sweet smile that unnerved him. As hard as it was to process, he almost believed her. At least he believed she thought she was that old and undead. He was really starting to regret getting into this tiny metal box with a potentially crazy person. A crazy person that could lift a wolf twice her size and throw him across a room like a doll. Maybe he was the crazy one and all those visions as pieces of clothes and bedsheets had finally broken his mind...
The rat suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh man, you should see your face right now!" She leaned against the wall to keep from doubling over. "Ah, no. I'm kidding. I didn't see the movie when it first came out. I only just watched it a few weeks ago."
He did not find the humor in this. "So you're not a 570 year old undead... whatever?"
She shook her head, still fighting a fit of giggles. "Oh no, that part's true." Yeah, one of them was definitely crazy. Finally, the elevator came to a halt. He had no way of knowing just how far down they had gone, but if he had to guess, it was pretty far with how long it took to get there. "Here we are." The doors slid open and she motioned for him to exit. "Welcome to Noxumbra."
He was not really sure what he expected. A grand underground temple. A massive open space with all manner of wild creatures. Maybe some kind of overly decorated throne room. The main reception like you would find in any office building was certainly not on his list. "Uh... huh..." Wood paneling on the walls, a dark blue carpet underfoot, and a desk kiosk with a digital pad sat right in the middle, though no one sat behind the desk. On the wall between two doors was the name Noxumbra in bold letters, curved under some kind of stylized flower design.
Ginny brushed past him. "Oh, one sec." She poked at the tablet on the desk a few times, muttering to herself. "Uh... let's see. Guest... one... name..." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Do you go by Victor or Vic?"
"Tag..." He answered blandly, still just looking around. He poked at one of the potted plants in the corner, a little disappointed to find it was fake.
She frowned. "Yeah, it is for a nametag. I wanna know what name you want on it."
He looked back at her. "No, the name on it. Tag. I go by Tag."
The rat just blinked at him. "Huh..." Shrugging, she turned back and tapped in the letters. "Well. I've heard stranger names. Like that one Djinn. I swear, his name had no vowels at all." Something behind the desk whirred. She reached back as the machine printed the badge out. She held it out for him. "Here you go. Make sure to keep this pinned on you until we get you in the system, or security will end up tackling you or something."
He took it, looking at the thing. The word 'GUEST' was emblazoned at the top in bold, red letters, with 'Tag' under it in much smaller print. "Thanks." He pinned it to his shirt. "So... now what?"
She smiled. "Now, I take you to the boss. She'll want to meet you in person." She turned on her heel and pushed open one of the doors. "C'mon. I'll give you the penny tour as we go."
"In for a penny, in for a pound." He just murmured under his breath, following her. The doors lead to an equally underwhelming hallway. This place really was just an underground office building, wasn't it? Doors lined the walls, spaced pretty far apart. The most impressive thing was how long the hall seemed to be.
Ginny pointed to one of the doors. "Back there is the security office. The holding cells are there, too."
"Holding cells?"
She nodded. "Yeah. For criminals that don't put up so much of a fight they have to be put down." Criminals? She continued before he could voice the question. "Back there is the library. Technically it's the research department, but it's just a whole hoard of books and the nerds who read 'em. Most of it's in the computer database anyway, but they like to keep the physical books in there, too. Something about preserving history." Pointing at another door. "In there is our magic lab. Basically another library, but for mystical arts. Apparently, those books don't translate to computers as well. I dunno."
He scoffed. "Magic lab. Right. Where's the crypt?"
"Three floors down with the storage." He waited for her to start cracking up again, but when she just kept walking, he had to assume she was serious. "Uh..." She pointed down another hallway. "Down there is the offices for all the agents. There's also a break room, kitchen, and dormitory type place, with showers and beds and stuff. Some of the agents pretty much live here. I mean... I do, but I don't have much of a choice."
"Why?"
"Because I'm undead?" She said it like it was the most obvious thing. "Anyway, the boss' office is just in here." She knocked on the door, then opened it before waiting for any response. "Hey, boss! I brought him."
He followed her inside. This was a little more what he was expecting from some secret organization. The room was huge, bigger than his own office and then some. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with books, spanning the whole length. A huge desk sat in the middle made of some dark wood. It was ornately carved, and would look right at home in a museum. Sitting behind the desk, hands folded as she waited patiently, was... "No..."
The woman stood up, her smile softening. "Hello, Victor."
He just stared. There was no way it could be her. She died when he was a kid. And yet... here she stood, looking not a day older than any of the pictures he had seen. "...Mom?"
She nodded. "Yes. Oh, look at you. You've grown so much..." She motioned to one of the stuffed chairs sitting in front of her desk. "Please. Have a seat. We have a lot to talk about, and I'm sure you've got a million questions." That was an understatement.
Ginny waved. "Well, I'll let you two catch up. I've got to go get changed and cleaned up anyway. Asshole ruined my uniform." She huffed as she walked out. "Was brand new, too." She shut the door behind her, leaving the two jerboas alone.
Tag took a deep breath, though it did nothing to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in his brain. "Okay. First. How!?"
Beatrice gave him a warm smile, one he almost recognized. "The short answer is, I faked my death." She held up a hand before he could ask. "The longer answer is just that: longer. But first, let me ask you a question. You have powers, right? A psychic touch?" He nodded. "Did you ever wonder how you got them?"
"Well... yes. All the time." He tilted his head. "I looked into it as much as I could, but I never found anything that made sense. Just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about astral projecting and spirit guides. Closest I got to any kind of answer was some old research paper about possible latent psychic abilities being tested back in the '50s and '60s. Nothing conclusive." He shifted a little. "Dad always just said I was special... But I got them from you, right? You're a psychic, too?"
She shook her head. "You're only half right. You did get them from me, but I'm not a psychic. I'm a witch."
He scoffed. "Well, to hear Dad talk about you, I believe it."
She let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, that sounds like William. I never treated him as well as I should have, but it's hard getting close with someone knowing you'll have to break those bonds before too long. How is he, anyway?"
"Dead." He was surprised to find his voice as cold as it was. "Car accident six years ago. Drunk driver smashed into him doing over 120."
She winced. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
He frowned. "You already knew that. You've been keeping tabs on me." She shifted uncomfortably. "That crazy rat just about said as much. You sent her to watch me. She knew I was on that werewolf case. I didn't tell anyone where I was going today, and yet there she was, swooping in at the moment I was in trouble. On your orders." His voice grew louder as he spoke. "So drop the bullshit hurt mother act. You could have contacted me at any time!"
She winced again, and for a moment, he actually believed his words hurt her. "Yeah, I deserved that." She took a deep breath. "You have to understand, though. I had to fake my death. People would start asking questions."
He clenched his teeth. "Yeah? Like what?"
She frowned. "Like why I don't age. You must have noticed. I look just like I did in any pictures you saw, right? Not a day different in almost 30 years." He wanted to say something else, but he couldn't think of anything good enough. "20 years. That's all I ever get. 20 years at most before I have to disappear and change everything. It was already so close when I met your father... then we had you. I pushed it longer, but people started asking already. So I had to vanish."
She slumped in her chair, hanging her head. "But... I couldn't just start over. I couldn't completely abandon you. So... I joined Noxumbra and worked my way to the top so I could always keep an eye on you. Even though I couldn't tell you. I was so proud when you became a police officer. And then detective!" She took another deep breath, and he heard it catch in her throat as she fought back a sob. After she was back in control of herself, she looked up at him. "Then, we found out you had powers. That was my chance to bring you in."
He remained quiet for a long time. "...and you... what? Expected me to just welcome you back with open arms?"
She shook her head. "No. I expected you to hate me. But you deserved an explanation."
He scowled even more. "Yeah, well. You've given it, and I do." He stood up, turning to the door. "We're done here. Good luck with your secret club or whatever this is. Just leave me out of it. It's what you do best anyway."
His mother stood up so quickly, she nearly knocked over her chair. "Victor, wait!" She rushed around her chair to try and catch him before he got to the door. "There's so much more I need to tell-" The moment she reached out and grabbed his hand, he cried out, grabbing his head in pain. "Victor?" It was just like when he had touched the werewolf's blood, but so much more of it. Images, emotions, sounds, and memories not his own flashed through his head at a lightning pace. The world around him stopped existing as he tumbled into the visions. He did not feel himself hit the floor, or hear himself screaming in agony.
They came so fast, he was only ever able to catch a moment of it. A young woman, a jerboa, standing in a field of wheat. Her clothes were like something from an old west movie. Then the field was on fire, her clothes and fur scorched yet she remained unharmed. Her parent's funeral, dead from the fire. The fire she started. People screaming at her. Chasing her on horseback. Hiding in a cave in the mountains, rain pouring outside. She was cold. She was afraid to even think of fire. A hand reached for her, making her flinch, but the owner was kind. Her home was warm. A beaver. Another witch. She had books and knowledge. Knowledge she shared.
The woman was an adult now. His mother, as he suspected. She had a lover. A soldier sent to the first world war. He came home in a box. The next lover was the same. Second world war, same result. Just repeating the loss. She withdrew, practiced her magic in secret. She knew better than to try and bring them back. That was a dark path. She wandered the world. Countries he had not even heard of. She met so many other creatures. She burned a mummy, befriended a phoenix, fought off the undead.
Another hand. Kind, welcoming, in a blue uniform with a flower symbol. He knew the flower's name this time. A Purple Nightshade, also known as a blue witch. The man holding his hand out, a bear, friendly and strange. Voice like gravel. He offered her a job. To join him. She said no. She left. Another hand, the reason she said no. He knew this one. Younger than he ever saw his father. They grew close. Married. She promised she would never fall in love again. They made love. She was pregnant. They fought. People asked her secret. She looked 30. She should be older. Was she sure of a kid at her age? They thought she was 50. She was so much older. He was born.
The accident. Faked. She used magic. Pushed the car off the road and started the fire. The explosion before it hit the river. No body. She walked away. She cried. Sorrow. So much sorrow it physically hurt. She almost turned back. She kept walking. The bear again, his hand out. He welcomed her. She worked hard. Magic research. Hunting more creatures that preyed on innocent. More witches. More fantastic things from nightmares. A shadow beast, a vampire that got away, a flying serpent, a talking sword. She was promoted, second in command. She had authority. She found him in secret. She watched him. He was just becoming a detective. She was so proud. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that. The bear retired, old and grey. She was put in charge.
The incident. Her son's greatest mistake. Killed an innocent. He turned in his badge. She wanted to console him. She watched. He had powers? Psychometry. Still used his powers to help people. Still proud of him. Still kept her distance.
The werewolf. Violent, but hard to find. Shifter at will. Could mask his scent. Victor was on it. He found him. "Genevieve, watch him." The rat was sent out. "Protect him. Bring him to me. It's time." There he was, in the office. So tall, so handsome, so angry. At her. She deserved it. Him screaming at her. Him screaming in pain on the floor. She hurt him!? Do something! Help him! Help your son!
Finally, the blinding white light overtook his mind, and then all faded to black.
* * *
As Tag's consciousness slowly returned, he realized several things all at once. First: he had passed out. Again. These new kinds of visions took one hell of a toll on him, and he was going to need to learn how to deal with that if they were going to keep happening. Second: he had just witnessed his own conception and birth from the point of view of his mother. As things he ever expected to experience go, that was about as far down the list as possible, even with the crazy things his powers had him experience. Third: He just watched his mother's life, from her childhood almost 200 years ago to today. She was a witch, and had lived a life almost impossible to believe.
Fourth: she was not lying. About anything. Her entire time here, she had been watching him and watching out for him in as best a way as she could. It didn't excuse abandoning him so young, or never reaching out, but it did put color to his view of her actions. He only got the vaguest inkling of just what this Noxumbra outfit was about during all of that, basically policing the supernatural, but he gathered that it was important. He would hear her offer out. If for no other reason than they might help him understand his own powers and how to control these new visions.
Fifth and finally: someone was standing over him. He slowly opened his eyes, the lights of the place were not quite painfully bright, but he was still staring up at them. He shifted to look at the person standing over him. "Welcome back." Her voice was soft, melodic, almost ethereal. As his vision started to clear, he was able to make out details, though he doubted what he was seeing. A doe, tall and thin, wearing a white lab coat and blue medical scrubs. There was also some kind of bird behind her, all pure white feathers, with its wings stretched wide. Then she moved, and he saw it was not a bird. The wings were hers.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, she still had wings. "Uh..." It was about all he could muster.
She gave him a smile, and the only word he could use to describe it was radiant. "Relax. You had a bit of an episode in the director's office. You're in the infirmary now." She tapped something on her coat, and when he focused, he saw it was a name badge. "I'm Doctor Sarah. Can you tell me your name?"
He looked confused. She had to have known it. Then he realized that was why she was asking, to make sure he did. "Tag... uh... Victor. Takdt."
She nodded. "And you know where you are?"
"Yeah. The infirmary, like you said." She giggled, and he had never heard anything so beautiful. "I'm in the Noxumbra... well, building, I guess? That rat earlier kept calling it HQ, so I guess the Noxumbra headquarters?"
She nodded once again. "Very good. Seems you're not suffering from any issues from the fall."
He sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "Uh... dunno about that... it looks like you've got wings to me..."
The doe's smile returned. "Oh, you're not seeing things. I do." She spread the wings out a little more. "I can put them away if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Put them away?"
"Hide them." She folded the wings up behind her, and in a flash of light, they vanished. "Some of the staff with a more... demonic lean tend to find them a little unsettling."
He stared at her, his thoughts racing once again. "Demonic... Hold up, are you telling me you're an angel?"
She nodded, beaming at him. "Guilty as charged." That explained the odd sort of ethereal nature about her. "More importantly, I'm the head of medical here, and you have a clean bill of health. So you are free to go. Though it was a pleasure to meet you." She held a hand out, but he instinctively flinched away before he even realized why. "Oh... sorry. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm not one of the arch-angels or warrior angels, so I'm actually quite incapable of doing harm."
He shook his head. "No... no, sorry, it's not you. I get visions from touching things. The last couple of times have been... Well, the reason I passed out in the first place. Overwhelming."
She tilted her head. "Really? In that case, you should go and see Dr. Mind. I'm sure he can help you figure all that out."
"Dr. Mind?" His tone was dubious at best. "It's not a giant, talking brain floating in a jar, is it?" At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if she said yes.
Instead, she laughed. "No! No no. He is still very much with his body. At least as of his last checkup." She tapped her chin. "Though that does remind me. He's due for another soon. I'll have to put that on the schedule..." He could not help but smirk as she was distracted by her own thoughts. He had not expected an angel to act so... normal.
The door opened and a familiar, boisterous voice called out. "He all good to go, Doc?" Ginny stepped in, wearing a fresh uniform.
"Ah..." The angelic doe turned to look at the rat, and he swore he saw disgust on her face for the briefest of moments. "Yes. He is cleared to go. Though I would recommend taking him to see Dr. Mind as soon as possible to help with his visions so he doesn't end up back here so soon."
The rat nodded. "Yeah. Boss said the same thing." She looked at him then. "You ready to go meet the greatest psychic since Nostradamus?"
"Nostradamus was a fraud." Tag pushed himself up to his feet. He realized his coat was on a stool beside the bed he had been on and he grabbed it, draping it over one arm. "He made calculated guesses and worded everything as vaguely as possible. It's a classic trick fake psychics and mystics use to fool gullible people out of money."
Ginny scoffed. "Yeah, well... a bunch of his stuff was right."
"Only because it's so vague that it can be made to seem true. It was just shotgun guesswork." He ran a hand through his hair, brushing one of his long ears over his shoulder to hang down his back again. "Besides, even a broken clock is right twice a day."
Dr. Sarah could not help but laugh. "Oh, you and Dr. Mind are going to get along quite well."
Ginny sighed softly, turning on the spot and heading back out the door. "C'mon, ya tall party pooper. I'll take you to the archives. Dr. Mind works outta there." She perked up almost instantly. "Oh! I'll also introduce you to my friend Bill! He's kinda like the head librarian there!"
Tag gave a friendly wave to the doctor before heading out to follow. "Alright then. Lead on, Miss Revenant."
* * *
Whatever he was expecting, this... was definitely not it. Standing before him was a bull... kind of. The top half was a bull... the bottom was, as well, but with all four legs. Dark brown fur covered the majority of his body, with a kind of blanket draped over his hind. The top half was in a very nice business shirt, though he did not seem to be able to quite get the top button closed from the sheer mass of his muscular frame. Few people could make him feel small, but this person... creature... definitely did. With the relatively diminutive Ginny excitedly standing beside him, it only seemed to accentuate the man's... presence in the room.
"Bill! Good to see you again! This is the lanky guy I mentioned." She pointed at him. "Calls himself Tag."
The bull shifted his gaze up at him. Then suddenly broke into a huge smile. "Oh! Yeah, I remember now! The director's kid, right?" He stepped closer, patting the jerboa's shoulder so hard, it felt like he was nearly slammed to the floor. "You've been the talk of the place all day!" He held his hand out. "Name's Bill! Glad to finally meet you in person!"
"Uh... hi." He needed to stop expecting things. It was as simple as that. What he had thought would be a stern or stoic brute turned out to be a very personable and amiable man.
The bull's deep rumbling voice was like rolling thunder, even as he chuckled. "They didn't bother warning you about this place first, did they? Yeah, they like to kinda spring it on newbies. Throw you in at the deep end, as it were."
He just nodded. "Yeah... today has been... a lot..." It was hard to believe that it was the same day he came face-to-face with an actual werewolf. And now he was in the headquarters for the mythology cops or something. He suddenly realized that he had instinctively taken the man's hand to shake, and suddenly flinched his hand away.
Bill held up his hands defensively. "Hey! Whoa there! I know I can look scary, but I won't charge at ya or anything."
He shook his head. "No... It's not... you. Sorry." He sighed. "It's a long story..."
Ginny leaned in. "He's got a thing about touching."
"Oh?" The bull gasped. "OH! You're the one with psychometry? Doc M. was buzzing all around earlier fussing about finding anything we had about the subject."
Tag nodded. "Yeah... though it's been acting up lately." He looked at his hand. "Didn't go off this time, though..." He looked up again, then behind the bull. The room past him was lined with bookshelves, each one stuffed with texts of all sizes, from small leaflets to massive tomes. It seemed to go on forever, just floor to ceiling books. More than anyone could read in several lifetimes. "Is this place... psychically shielded? Is that a thing, or just a comic book trope?"
Bill shrugged, and for a moment he thought the bull's shirt was about to burst open from the movement. "It's kind of a thing, I think. I dunno. Psychic stuff isn't really my specialty. I just keep this place organized." He chuckled. "Maybe being around so many old books blocked it? Or maybe the mages put up some kinda ward. Who knows." Mages? He really should not be surprised they had mages. He already knew magic was real. He had seen it firsthand in his mother's vision.
"More likely you simply burnt the ability out and it needs to recharge!" The voice came from deep among the shelves. The owner was clearly elderly, but there was still a vigor to it. "Side effect of you not having trained it prop- Bill, would you mind getting your flank out of my way!?"
"Oh, sorry about that." The large bull very gingerly stepped to the side. It was almost dainty, nearly making Tag laugh at the absurdity.
"Yes. Thank you. Now..." There was a grunt and the sound of something being dragged. "Just a moment." After a few more grunts of effort, the owner of the voice finally came into view. A tabby cat, shorter still than even Ginny. There was not a spot on him that wasn't grey with age. His back hunched as he ascended the steps he moved into place. Yet his eyes were lively and full of intelligence, his movements less slowed from age and more deliberate.
"Dr. Mind, I presume."
"And you must be Victor Takdt." He grunted. "I see you inherited your mother's knack for stating the obvious."
He smirked. "Ginny tells me you're the best psychic around since Nostradamus."
"Of course I am!" He scoffed. "I've learned a thing or two since then. Like what I'm actually doing instead of making it up according to some interesting dreams I had."
It took Tag a moment to follow the thread of logic. "Wait, are you saying you ARE Nostradamus!?"
"Was. Left that name behind a long time ago. Wish everyone else would forget it." He sighed. "You put out one collection of inane ramblings, and suddenly the world thinks you're a saint." Now he understood what Dr. Sarah meant about them getting along.
He nodded slowly. "So, the whole dying from complications of gout was..."
"Faked my death!" The cat sniffed indignantly. "Kind of had to once we cracked the code on the philosopher's stone." He wasn't even surprised anymore. The cat waved his hand dismissively. "But enough about me. We're here to talk about YOU and YOUR gifts!"
Ginny looked up at Bill. "Hey, I'm going to head to the breakroom while these two do their thing. You wanna join me? Could hook up the games thing again..."
The bull chuckled, stepping around Tag to follow her. "Oh, you're on! I'm kicking your butt this time, mouse!"
She huffed. "RAT! Ya big, burly cow!" His laughter echoed as they walked away.
The cat chuckled. "I'd make a comment about being young, but she's almost as old as I am." He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Your psychometry. Your 'touch.' It has been acting up lately?"
Tag nodded slowly. "Yeah. Knocked me on my ass twice now."
Dr. Mind turned around, slowly walking back down the steps. "Follow me. And tell me about how it normally works."
The jerboa followed as he was led through the aisle of books. "Well, normally it only happens when I touch an inanimate object. Shirt, bedsheet, nametag, gun, that kind of thing. I get a vision AS that object during something... important that happened recently in the owner's life. Usually something emotional..." he sighed. "Well, usually something sexual, but that's just because of my line of work. Private Investigator work usually boils down to 'prove my husband is cheating' and independent background checks."
The elderly man nodded. "So, you experience this as an object? Not a view from the outside?"
"Yeah, that's right."
Dr. Mind stroked the wispy beard on his chin. "Hrm... fascinating." They came to a door, which he pushed open. Inside was a small, very cluttered room. Books lay strewn everywhere, piled up haphazardly against the walls, with several more laid out on the small desk near the middle. "Make yourself at home." He moved around and climbed up into the chair behind the desk. Once Tag had also taken a seat in the only chair not covered in tomes, the man asked, "Tell me when your power first... ehm... manifested."
He smiled. "The first time was when I was a kid. I touched someone's backpack, and saw that they were stealing stuff out of everyone's bags. Thought I was dreaming, but when I told the teacher, turns out I was right."
"Was it common to happen after that?"
He shook his head. "No. Pretty rare at first. Only happened... maybe 4 or 5 times in a year. Started to get a lot more frequent when I got older. Especially after my dad died. I touched the car and saw the whole crash..."
The cat nodded slowly, scribbling something down on a notepad. "That must have been quite traumatic. Is that why you became a private dick?"
Tag felt like he was in those therapy sessions he was forced to take when he served. "Uh, no. It's what led me to being a cop. Homicide detective, eventually. But, uh... some things happened. Not related to the visions. I was forced to retire. That's when I became a P.I."
"I see." The man scribbled something else down. "Alright. Now tell me when you first had the more taxing vision?"
Tag took a breath and let it out slowly. He told him of his involvement in the werewolf case, though at the time everyone thought it to just be a wild wolf loose in the city. He told of his experience feeling the man was 'powerful' somehow. Then of touching the bullet hole, just as he brushed the blood, the rapid details of the man's life flashing in his head, and of the attack itself.
"When was this?"
Tag blinked. "Oh... uh... about a week ago?"
"Did you have any other visions between then and your episode here?"
He shook his head. "No."
The old man scribbled something else down, then tapped at the notepad. "Alright then. Here is my theory." He cleared his throat. "You've never been using your powers to the full extent before. Only able to interact with inanimate objects. Then, the first instance was with a werewolf, a more awakened being."
"Awakened?"
"Eh... mythological one. Touched with magic in some way. Something more connected with the..." He sighed. "You get the idea, yes?" Tag nodded. "Well, the next time was with your mother, a witch. Same effect. Overwhelming visions beyond your control. Then nothing from Sarah or Bill. I think your powers are recharging themselves after overloading. Might take a few hours or a few days. We only have two points of reference so far, so it would require more testing."
He winced. "What kind of testing..."
The cat chuckled. "Oh! Nothing invasive. Shaking hands with some of our more mystically inclined agents should be enough. We'll start with those that haven't lived for over two centuries, of course. It would also serve to help you train and hone this skill."
He groaned. "...great." He was not looking forward to getting more people's life stories blasting him into a coma. "What if I can't... reign this thing in and keep getting knocked flat every time? What if it makes it get worse?"
The man waved his hand dismissively. "Bah, don't look on the negative. This is a chance to expand an already impressive gift!" He chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you I saw a future with you in it! Working with Noxumbra, alongside that overly energetic rat."
He gave a dubious look. "Did you, though?"
Dr. Mind chuckled. "In a sense. Visions of the past are far more clear than those of the future. I saw two rodents, one dark, one tall, hunting down something... dark and dangerous, and very old."
Tag smirked. "Older than you?"
The cat huffed. "I'm only 600! There are things in this world older than history!" He cleared his throat. "But yes. I believe you are the tall one, and the undead girl is the darker. As for what you are hunting, that is beyond me yet. Too many possibilities to say for sure." He waved his hand again. "Enough of the unknown future. What of the immediate one? Will you stay here, train those gifts, and join our little group?"
The jerboa scratched the back of his head. "Can't say I'm looking forward to hunting something described as 'dark, dangerous, and old.' But... yeah, sure." He shrugged. "Guess I'm on the path to being a cop again? That is basically what you guys are, right?"
The old mystic chuckled. "Well, that is a crude way of oversimplifying it, but in essence yes." He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Well. I'd love to get started!" Tag gave him a weary look. "...tomorrow. We'll get started tomorrow. You have had a busy day from what I hear. That could impede things." He waved both hands. "Go. Shoo! Get yourself home and rest. We'll start training your abilities tomorrow! I'll have someone fetch you in the morning."
He let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you." He felt completely drained, something he was not looking forward to continually feeling while this 'training' happened. However long that was going to last...
Chapter 2 of my Noxumbra files story! woo~ This is the info-dump chapter. Tag is being escorted by the crazy black rat that saved him from the werewolf to 'Headquarters.' He finds himself in an underground facility and meeting with the director... someone from his past he thought long dead. He learns about the organization, about his own powers, and some truths about the world. Also meets some rather colorful characters.
No sexy times in this one. Not really any violence, either. This is the biggest info dump of this series. A little front-loaded, but the mystery of the series is not what Noxumbra is. The real mystery will start showing up soon... We'll also be getting back to my regularly scheduled violent sexiness in the next chapter.
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For some reason I imagine an animated show set in Alta Ferro. Five years ago I'd said it's idle speculation, but after seeing what Vivienne Medrano managed to get out, I'm not sure anymore.
For some reason I imagine an animated show set in Alta Ferro. Five years ago I'd said it's idle spec
I think it might work better as a comic, like Astro City, but a few mostly unconnected stories that randomly interact with each other in a meta setting could work as a webshow.
But since I cannot draw or animate, it's pretty damned unlikely.
I think it might work better as a comic, like Astro City, but a few mostly unconnected stories that
booleangemini352 | 
