Owner	Pose
Phoebe Beacon	It wasn't often that cases that stemmed in Gotham City made their way over to New York, but a memo had gone out in the morning. Some kids from Gotham had lodged a missing persons report for their friend -- part of the reason it took so long for things to process (beyond the normal red tape), was the fact that several entries in the AKA database had come up.     Doe, Constantine-Chandler, Wayne was the most recent name attached to it, though it had been removed and just left at the last name Beacon. 18, 5'6, dark brown eyes and black hair. Last seen in Hell's Kitchen with a pitched argument with an older white man.     Psych profile showed she'd been treated for depressive episodes through her early teens after her father, postumusly awarded a medal for his work as a firefighter, was killed. Treatment included prescriptions for sleep meds, PTSD, anxiety, depression, all that stopped within the year. Rap sheet included one count of criminal tresspassing in Gotham, which had been expunged as it was related to her treatment.     Also showed two years ago she was recovered by her biological mother, then returned to Gotham and sought emancipation (provided by one Harvey Dent). Current address was listed as both a destroyed bar in Clinton and an address in Bristol Township, Gotham City.     Pictures ranging from a bright-eyed mid-teens girl with a T-shirt saying 'GOTHAM HOPE' to an older teen in second-hand T-shirts advertising bands and softdrinks to a most recent picture, showing shoulders hitched up, hair pulled back, and eyes looking sunken and tired.     No mention of her other activities, just a note that her friends in Gotham were concerned for her well-being -- she'd finished school in New York City and seemed far more quiet and withdrawn, and hadn't responded to texts or calls for about a week and a half at the first filing.     It seemed odd that the case was passed to Pezzini, the manilla folder with BEACON, P. A. - MISSING PERSON landing on her desk from a stack off someone else's grap.
Sara Pezzini	Though many names, Sara was well aware from the pictures who this person was. This prompted her to add Phoebe's name to the file in the New York computers as Beacon, Phoebe, and sent a note off to Gotham PD to do the same. Names were important in her line of work, and the GPD might be able to get more information if they knew who this actually was. That however was all the longer she stayed at the desk in her office at the Bushwick Precinct. She then grabbed her jacket and headed to Hell's Kitchen. As she sped through New York her hope was that Witchblade would offer her up a vision of this heated argument. It would tell her who it was that Phoebe was fighting with, and that was an important clue to have... someone to question maybe. If that failed, because his Psychemtry wasn't always a reliable thing, then she would have to hope there was a magical trail that could be followed. Either way, her starting point was Hell's Kitchen.
Phoebe Beacon	Hell's Kitchen -- within sight of the Laughing Magician bar and the Curio building. The park at the moment was occupied by a couple of teen toughs wearing gang colors, grumpy clouds overhead that were considering raining on their parade.     People bustle past on business, mostly their own.     There is an after-feeling of magic here, but perhaps because it is so close to 'home' for Phoebe. Or because it was a place where emotions ran high between two rather magical people.     Witchblade may be able to pick up the signature of Phoebe's own magic, and the magic of a particular Light Magic angelic type person. The shelter over a couple of picnic tables appears to be the epicenter of the strong emotions and magics, the picnic tables being that same, heavily-painted gray wood of some of the older benches in the park and playground.
Sara Pezzini	To those watching, it looks like Sara pulls up on her motorcycle, removes her helmet and then just start meandering around. It's not professional looking at all, but she doesn't seem to care. She is following the breadcrumb trails of magic. Phoebe's she recognizes immediately, the other she doesn't know... which means her hopes of finding who the argument was with ended there. Moving closer to the picnic tables, Witchblade picks up on the emotion connected to the magical trail. This leads Sara to actually reach up and touch the shelter over the tables with her right hand, to give Witchblade physical contact that might lead to more information.
Phoebe Beacon	Even though the trail was old. Phoebe was leaking power three weeks ago, as if she wanted to be found.     As Sara reaches up to touch the shelter over the tables, she would feel the cold of an unusually chilly day for May. The sound of rain falling heavily around them. Phoebe smells of black pepper and citrus, with the undercurrent of roses beneath her as she stood near the table, facing Chas Chandler.     There had been some sort of argument. They were both tense, though Phoebe's smaller form was curling slightly as if she had been socked in the gut. There was enough distance to show that wasn't the case however.     Chas turned and walked back towards his cab, parked at the edge of the playground.     "... so, that's it." Phoebe gasped, and collapsed backwards against the table, and she watched the retreat, "Better off without me anyway."     She reached into her pocket, and then scootching up on the table she tucked something up behind one of the supports, and then withdrew her bag, turned, and pulled her hood up to jog back into the rain.
Sara Pezzini	Sara's eyes glass over as the images hit like a freight train. Of all the abilities Witchblade had, this was the one that was the most rare, almost as if he was unable to completely control it happening himself. To those watching she just froze there in place, but to her she stepped from a warm summer day back to May 27th. She felt the chill in the air, the scent of the trees just starting to wake up for spring, and every single emotion both Phoebe and the other felt during the argument. It was literally as if she was both of them in that moment. Only a minute passes in the reality and the images are gone, leaving her to lean for a moment against the shelter to catch her breath. The level of anger and pain, the sadness and frustration, it was still with her as she blinked a few times to collect herself, and then it passed on. Hoping up the table, she reaches up to the shelter over hand where Phoebe had placed something, feeling around in an attempt to find it.
Phoebe Beacon	I only feel hurt.     Reaching up, Sara would find an old camera film tube, and a key. Not anything fancy, just an old, brass #66 key with its hexagonal head and jagged teeth. It has MASTERLOCK on it.     And that's it. Nothing else, enough that they could be concealed in the palm of her hand, hidden in a pocket without too much intrusion, secreted up in the supports of the shelter where not just anyone would find it. It would have had to be someone incredibly lucky, or someone who could be able to see where she had hidden it.
Sara Pezzini	Hopping back down, Sara looks over the key. A locker some place, perhaps Grand Central Station? That would be where she checked first, as sometimes the first guess is the lucky one. If not, then she would have to search up all the places in the area that had rental lockers with Masterlock installed. The film case is turned over twice in her hand, then she gives it a very light shake to determine if it was holding an actual roll of film, or something else.
Phoebe Beacon	No film, but there is paper. A photocopy of notes. Circles and words and spells.     In English, the top read 'Backup - Puppet'.     A necromantic spellwork to create a flesh puppet, and the tiny details to get everything correct for a remote activation -- though the photocopy wouldn't do for any proper spellwork; all far, far too small and ill-detailed to replicate it.     The key, in fact, does fit into a master lock on a locker in Grand Central. The locker is non-descript, near a bathroom.
Sara Pezzini	Sara's knowledge of magic is seriously lacking, Witchblade's however it not. He may not be able to work rituals and spells, but he knows one when he sees it. Once Sara has pulled it out to look at, it's only a short time before he tells her what it is, and all the possible things that could be done with it. Why would Phoebe have a necromantic spell? One to create a flesh puppet with of all things? This is what Sara pondered as she rolled the paper up, replaced it in the film canister then headed to her bike. Grand Central was /always/ busy now. With the JLD no longer using it for a headquarters and the repairs nearly 90% complete, life had returned and the trains were running. Moving through the place she counted down the lockers until she found #66. Too close to 666 in her opinion, but that was thoughts for another time. Putting they key into the lock, she wiated for a moment to see if there was some sort of trap, for Witchblade's danger sense to go off and armor her up. If nothing happened, she would turn the key to open the lock.
Phoebe Beacon	Why would Phoebe need flesh puppet, a regular Frankenstein's Monster, stitched together from spare parts indeed?     The lockers were nicely numbered. The locker in question had a master lock that matched the key, and after the key was inserted there was no warning, no sense of danger -- outside the normal being near the bathrooms in Grand Central.     The locker opens.     And it seems very, very normal. A leather backpack, some books. A change of clothing including two pairs of socks (one with happy avocados on it, the other with eggs with little horns and pitchforks). Two pairs of gloves.     The backpack Sara might recognize as Phoebe's 'go bag'.
Sara Pezzini	"Son of a bitch," Sara mutters quietly as she reaches in to pick up the backpack. Whatever was going on, Phoebe didn't even have her equipment, the things she might need for her own safety. It felt wrong to her, to be snooping through the teenagers things, but her worry for the girl was winning out each step of the way. Unzipping the pack she checked the contents, trying to see if there was any hint, any indication at all of what was going on. Did Phoebe have some of the things she needed? Had she deliberately left a trail to this location for someone to find... something? Sara had no intentions of giving up, in fact she would look over every item in the locker and then, over the locker itself. First she would feel inside along the top, side and back, looking for some sort of hidden compartment, and then she would open her eyes with magic, looking for any indications of a hidden pocket in reality that might be present inside the locker.
Phoebe Beacon	The locker itself was painfully normal. The pack was mostly empty; there was a pocket knife at the bottom. A few stubby candles. Paperwork for name changes and a couple of physical fake ID's. A Nine of Diamonds playing card. A glasses case with a pair of blue acetate glasses in it. The clothes had been worn -- there's lavender deoderant on the shirt if she turns it inside out. Phoebe had changed her clothes and then instead of disposing of them, locked them in a locker with lock whose key she left at a park.     The books are normal, one was a roadmap to places with crude names in the United Kingdom and another was a dog-eared recipie book for common cocktails and libations.     One sketchbook was full of magic circles and incantations, though. A workbook that she was building in, demon traps and protective circles and how to pronounce the Names of things.     And in the very bottom of the locker, there was a reminder list: Birthdays. Schedules. Lydia and Raven's wedding (*NOT* in space) was circled twice, a map of the town of Bayside, New Jersey, and a folio on Ghost Towns in PA.
Sara Pezzini	Everything went into the backpack for now, as Sara intended to take it with her. There were clues, she knew there was, and the most obvious was Bayside, New Jersey... but was it too obvious? What was Bayside to Phoebe? She was seriously hoping it wasn't the ghost towns in Pennsylvania, that would require some serious planning, but if Bayside didn't pan out, that is where she would start looking next. Once the contents of the locker are in the backpack, she slings it over her shoulder and closes it, replacing the lock. When she found Phoebe, she would need her locker to be safe and sound, even if it is empty for the time being. Looking around the surrounding area, she shook her head slightly as she as headed back outside to her bike, looked over the map for any indications of marks.
Phoebe Beacon	The map of Bayside had dates on it, ranging within two seventy-seventy year ranges.     Seven distinct X's with dates in 1945, the name Nathan Musik -- apparently Phoebe had been researching this town as well. Sara might recall recently there had been an event where after some strangers came through, fourteen children showed up on a river bank the next day, remarkably well preserved for saying they were from 1945 and 1868.     The Ghost Towns of PA had a couple of stars, with a newspaper article regarding one recently being sold.     Phoebe wasn't seen in Bayside, and her notes were dated the day before she disappeared. The footage showed her ducking in and changing her clothes afterwards.     And as Sara was climbing on her motorcycle, before even leaving Grand Central station, she'd feel a tug down an alley nearby.
Sara Pezzini	Sara stops dead in her tracks, the hair on the back of her neck rising slightly. Turning slowly, she seems to be feeling for where the tug is, and with the pack on her back heads toward the alley. Any danger at all, even the threat of a mugger with a knife, and Witchblade will react, but this was a new sensation, to be tugged at in this way.
Phoebe Beacon	And then the pulling stops. Like a tug of war suddenly letting go.     Someone portaled.     The alley was thick with the remainder of its magic, wafting away on the breeze and fading like a memory.     No muggers, no weird signs or sigils, just a back alley with a dumpster overful of trash.
Sara Pezzini	At the end of the alley Sara stops moving forward and turns around slowly a few times. There was nothing now, the tugging gone, but there had been something... an almost familiar feeling. "I do this for a living," she muttered to no one specifically, perhaps she was talking to the dumpster. "And I still had dead ends." Was that a reference to the case or to the alley being a dead end? Eyeing the dumpster for a moment, her mind went back to the many times she'd gone dumpster diving for clues. She didn't think it would lead to anything this time, not really, but she was just determined enough to go a head and give it a try.
Phoebe Beacon	Open the dumpster.     There is a SHEETZ bag.     There is not a SHEETZ in New York City.      -- did someone come in, dump a bag from out of town and just leave? What would even be the point?     The rest of everything was a mishmash of starbucks cups and overpriced food packages from hungry travelers, buthing that would indicate anyone really making a pull to Sara in this direction.     Just what in the world was going on?
Sara Pezzini	Now comes the real detective work. A pair of rubber gloves are removed from her jacket pocket, along with a large plastic bag. The SHEETZX bag is carefully collected and Sara checks inside it to see if there is a receipt. Whether there is one or not, she takes the SHEETZ bag and tucks it into the larger plastic bag and seals it. Finger prints are possible off bags, if she was in the right place with the right tools. There was no way to follow whom ever created the pull, no way to know who it was or what they wanted. It left her with no other leads than the SHEETZ bag, and that might in fact just be a dead end.
Phoebe Beacon	The SHEETZ bag is pulled, and tucked into the plastic bag. There is, in fact, a receipt in the bag. Paid cash, a little over two weeks ago, at a Sheetz in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, for gas on pump 4 (three and one half gallons worth), an energy drink and a water. The receipt has a timestamp and the Sheetz location number.
Sara Pezzini	"Fuck," Sara mutters, looking the receipt over. Did Phoebe know how to drive? Would she rent a car, steal one perhaps? What was the teen up to?! The receipt gets it's own little bag that is then sealed, before she turns and heads out of the alley. Was the tugging a warning? Perhaps it was more along the lines of a handshake? She really didn't know, what she did know is that she was going to have to access the security cameras at a SHEETZ in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania and see if Phoebe showed up on it. The likely answer was no, given the teen could teleport around, but once again... no stone unturned.
Phoebe Beacon	No stone unturned.     Submitting the paperwork took a bit -- but Sara's hunch was correct. There was a fingerprint that was able to be pulled from the bag -- matched the Gotham PD's entry for Phoebe from her tresspass booking. Cameras couldn't show positive identification -- the person was wearing a motorcycle helmet, but showed a motorcycle plate, New Jersey, registered in Gotham.     Phoebe's trail lead to Pittsburgh. And there?     Went cold. No more sighting. No more little hints. Nothing.     But Sara had the incantation, some of her research, and a good amount of items that belonged to her. Her magical know-how might not be the same, but Phoebe was a hero out of Gotham.     THere are probably Gothamites who would be very interested in what she found.
Sara Pezzini	It was an all nighter, and a lot of nagging, but Sara had managed to garner some information. For reasons unknown, Phoebe had been in Pittsburgh. With the information on Ghost towns, the appearance of the fourteen missing children, some from the wrong times, she was almost certain that Phoebe was on the trail of something, but what it was... no idea. Given the nature of this investigation, and the lack of a Special Investigations Unity in Gotham, passing the information she'd obtained to the GPD would be worthless. They would have no idea what to do, or even understand how she had magically obtained some of the leads. The only Gothamite she knew Phoebe to be connected to, and to have worked with, was Red Robin... but how to you contact a "vigilante" in Gotham? Sitting back in her chair, her office dark save for one lamp on her desk, a coy little grin played across her lips. Batman /loathed/ it when heroes from outside Gotham came to the city, so /that/ was how she could get at least one vigilante's attention. Show up in Gotham as Witchblade, and wait for the Bat to come to her. Surely he would know how to contact Red Robin, and perhaps even he might be interested in the missing Phoebe.