Max Avendir walked down the city block heading to the scene. He'd been called earlier by police chief Hardy, to come investigate a murder that by any means wasn't conventional according to Hardy. If he had been called, then there was something going on here that was not of the ordinary.

Max arrived at the scene a few minutes later, noticing it was in the alleyway next to the discount liquor store. He crouched under the police tape and went over to where Hardy was standing. He could see the corpse laying there, barley any signs of a murder. How this was a murder was beyond him, but he would know in just a few moments what happened.

Walking over to the corpse, Max bent down and ran his hand over the victims arms. Visions flashed before Max's eyes. He kept his hand on his arm and he saw it. Saw the whole thing happen right before his eyes. Creatures he could only assume belonged to hell following the man down the street, creeping up on him and forcing him to run into the alley. With nowhere to go, he turned around to face the creatures and in a split second it was all over.

Max stood up and turned to Hardy. "What we have here are hell fiends, minions of the devil and they extracted this man's soul. That's why there's no sign of struggle. I know what you're gonna ask and I'm already on it. I'll call up the team and get right on the case. I'll contact you with more info when it's available."

Without even waiting for Hardy to respond, Max walked away, took out his phone and dialed a number. It rang 3 times then picked up. "Hey it's Max. Get the team and meet me at the coffee shop and 21st and 7th ASAP, we got a case and this one has hell written all over it. I'll explain the details when we're all there. See you"

He hung up and walked towards the direction of the coffee shop. As he walked though, he could feel as if there was a presence following him. Turning around, he could not see anything, but he felt it. After a few minutes he made it to the coffee shop and went inside, found a table and sat down. He motioned over for the waitress to come over and he asked for an espresso, as he would sit and wait for the rest of the team to arrive.

As he was walking along tossing his coin and catching it everytime, which awed some people on the other side of the road a bit, his phone started ringing the annoying ringtone that he loved. He took it out of his pocket and clicked answer. After he ended the call he turned around completely and headed towards an espresso shop.

Once he got there he opened the door and strolled in, hand on garlic spray can just in case, once he saw Max he relaxed a bit. He nodded to him, sat down and ordered a Late waiting for the others.

The problem with storing vitality in Phylacteries was that it left you completely exhausted afterwards. Jackson was just considering turning in for the night even though it was currently daytime when his phone hummed at him from his desk. He saw Max's number and considered ignoring it, but he never rang without good reason. He answered it, listened to the instruction and then yawned. Max always picked the worst times to find them a case, but there was no point complaining, it paid the bills after all. After shrugging into his coat, Jackson put his revolver in the holster and made an effort to pull a comb through his hair.
The air was cool outside, good because it helped him wake up, and the walk into the city to find the coffee shop got the blood pumping around his body. The coffee shop on 21st and 7th was a quaint little place, not the kind you'd expect to find a meeting of a world-class supernatural task force. Good thing too, it would be embarrassing for the S.I.N to run into a world-class task force, although they might be able to ask for some pointers. He noticed Max, boss to him, sitting at a table with the other one, Olderson, sipping at a drink. He pointedly ignored them and went to get something with as much caffeine in as possible. That done he sat down gave them both a polite nod and waited for the others to arrive.

Grigori ben Judah listened to his boss's call with consternation. For some reason, the entire agency had been called to a coffee shop for "mission briefing". Why would the leader of the network organize a top-secret meeting in a random coffee shop? Why would it be sent out to everyone in the organization? It was obvious... the leader had been co-opted by a hostile entity that was now trying to lure everyone into the open, where they could be murdered! Well, Grigori ben Judah was smarter than that! Grigori moved out, seeking to catch his enemies unawares in the comfort of their own ambush.

At the intersection of 21st street and 6th street, Grigori spotted the stated coffee house. With catlike tread and a 325-pound suit of armor, Grigori cautiously snuck into the alleyway connecting 6th to 7st street. Grigori ambled up the alley, until he came to what was most likely the back door to the coffee house. With one slight push, the door crumpled under The Cleansuit's fists, and Grigori was free to enter the coffee house's kitchen.

The greatest thing about being a freelance, Grigori thought to himself as he stomped into the coffee house's kitchen to the loud disapproval of the attendant cook. is not having to answer to anyone.

"ALRIGHT, YOU PUSILLANIMOUS FRYCOOK," barked Grigori at the cook. "HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! THIS IS OFFICIAL STATE BUSINESS!"

With excessive caution, Grigori stared intently at the interior of the kitchen. Anything could happen here, and Grigori had to be on guard. The slightest movement could set him off! Grigori stared deeply at the kitchen's coffee maker, searching for anything that looked out of the ordinary. Whatever it was this lunatic impostor wanted, he would certainly want to start off the ambush with a little drugging. And what better way to drug someone than to slip it in their coffee? It was genius!

Nicholas was currently hanging out on the balcony of his suite in New Horn City. He was currently waiting for his next race that'd be hosted at the Red Vine Speedway that was located within the city. He glanced down at the vehicles driving on the road. He stared at them for sometime before he dramatically raised his left hand in the air, "You will know the glo-". Nicholas paused as he noticed his phone was ringing with the tune, "Let's Make Lots of Money." It was the ringtone of one of his Agents.

Nicholas answered the phone, "Donny whatcha got for me?" Nicholas nodded his head, "Game Show huh? FIR you say, how much?" Nicholas beamed as he did a celebratory fist-pump with his free hand. "Donny you make me so happy! And any media gigs to talk about my heroism against those mutant "supernatural" freaks?" Nicholas nodded, "Schedule it for a Thursday. I'm busy the day you told me they wanted." Nicholas listened to his phone as he said "Well it was great talking to you. Keep getting me cash buddy!" Nicholas hanged up the phone.

He again looked down at the cars, "Well if any of you monsters are out there, I shall descend upo-" Nicholas was interrupted by another loud ding coming from his phone. Quickly Nicholas Grey scrolled through the message, noting the address of 21st and 7th Street. Once more Nicholas stared down at the cars below as he started up again. "Well if any of you monsters are out there, I sha-"

Once more he was interrupted in his monologue, this time by a knocking at his door. He went into the suite proper as he closed the door to the balcony. He opened the door as he saw a cart being wheeled in, "Your room service sir. Veal and Lobster." Nicholas rubbed his hands together, as it was moved in fully. Nicholas shut the door as he took the knife and began cutting into the veal, "But first GRUB." He grabbed the remote and began flicking through channels. The news was boring as it didn't feature him. He kept flicking channels until he came across footage from his previous race. "Now that's a handsome stud!" Nicholas declared as he saw himself on the television with the trophy.

Sure he was called up for helping out in someway, probably taking down spooky stuff. But Nicholas could not resist the charm that was the televised Nicholas Grey, and he could surely spent a few moments basking in the memory of getting to Victory Lane just a few days ago.

Rrrrrrriiiiiiiip.

The sound of something wet being torn echoed through the chamber. A light giggle sounded once the silence returned, and then another tear. Then a solid thud. Then a splash, which lasted a full minute before trickling out. Just as the echoes faded and it seemed another sound would come from inside, a sound from outside broke the chain.

Ring ring! Ring ring!

The door swung silently open to reveal a youth wearing safety goggles and a long white overcoat normally seen in chemical labs. A scorpion tail sprouted from the back, and was currently shrinking back into the youth's back. Most striking, though, was that the youth was splattered liberally with a red liquid and seemed ecstatic because of it.

The youth reached toward the only furniture in this next room, a chair, and lifted the ringing cell phone to answer it. "Hiii~ You've reached Scorpio! I'm washing my hair or something right now, so leave me a nice message! Piiii~" Scorpio listened to the agent relay Max's instructions while removing the overcoat and goggles, knowing that the fun was over - for now.

The message delivered, Scorpio began making themself presentable - the chief had chosen a public meeting place that made it easy to set up an ambush, so Scorpio needed to blend in. The red was cleaned from the face more easily than the hair, but Scorpio figured it was fashionable to have streaked blonde hair nowadays and so would not be an issue. Somehow, carrying twin silver-edged swords crossed on one's belt didn't seem at all conspicuous to Scorpio's mind, though.

---

Thud.

The lights in the kitchen shook as something landed heavily on the roof. A lighter sound came from behind Grigori before Scorpio stepped in, smiling beneath the pair of shade upon their face.

"I think I'll have a medium Chai tea with just the slightest hint of sugar and mint, too. Put it on his tab."

Clover was sitting on her couch watching a baseball game in Denver when her phone rang, startling her. She jumped up and looked at the caller ID, listening to what Max had to say before stalking out of her small cottage in the middle of no where, jumping in her car and speeding off, using sirens given to her specifically because she generally had to travel far to get to anywhere important to cases.

She arrived at the shop quicker than she expected, stalking in and plopping herself into a vacant chair.

Jack Bright was not born yesterday. No self-respecting law enforcement, investigation, or... ANY task force, really, would have a meeting in a coffee shop. He might respect this crew of halfwits in the same way he respected a sad clown who managed to get beheaded after calling the sword thrower a pussy, but even HE didn't think they were that thick. He sat in a colorful lawnchair on an adjacent rooftop, spying equipment at the ready. Then he heard the approaching sirens and hit the deck, manning his sniper rifle. That wasn't an undercover police car though. It was the wrong make and model. Which meant it was a stolen siren.

It was obvious. Whoever the chucklefuck in charge was, he was actually a cultist. What he was a cultist OF didn't matter right now. Jack Bright had made plenty of enemies. Whether this incompetent was brainwashed or just that stupid, it was readily apparent he wanted all the agents in one place, in public, where there were no wards or safety measures. All it would take is to wait for the agents to reveal themselves, then summon his dark patron. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Agent Bright cocked the rifle, lining up the shot.

Max, sat there, slowly sipping his espresso and waiting as the task force arrived. He wanted to tell them of their new case, but they weren't all there yet. He didn't want to have to repeat it twice. Looking, he saw that Clover, Jackson and Max were here, but the others weren't. They would arrive soon he hoped.

Picking up his espresso, he downed the last of it and looked over at his colleagues, the other task force members. " We've got a doozy of a case and it's not gonna be pretty."

He was about to speak further, but his phone rang again and he fished it out of his coat pocket. Looking at the caller id, he clicked it on. "What's up Hardy? Oh really, moving you say. But that's impossible, unless..., no wait they can't be doing that can they? I'll get the squad and be down there lickity split." Max hung up the phone and looked to the ones that were there.

"We've got trouble. We need to hurry over to the scene." He leaned in close to them and whispered. "Seems they've managed to start reanimating the corpse. We need to stop it pronto." He let them know where the scene was, 23rd and lexington, the alleyway next to Jim's discount liquorsand told them to meet him there.

With that said, Max quickly got up and threw some money on the table to pay for his espresso. He quickly hightailed it out of there, walking faster than usual, the few blocks back to the scene. This was some serious shit and this needed to be stopped right away.

Clover sighed and decided to leave her car here since the place was only a few blocks away. She pulled herself out of her chair and walked out of the café, her long legs giving her a slight advantage of speed. She was only a few feet behind Max on the walk over, though she only caught up as they arrived at the scene.

Grigori rounded on Scorpio, glaring wildly at her beneath his clay-and-iron guise. This lunatic just wandered in through the back door purely to buy some tea! Didn't they know that this was obviously a sting set up by whatever has taken over their boss? The coffee and tea would be the most likely to be poisoned! Grigori needed to inform her of her potentially dangerous decision in a tactful and subtle matter. One slip-up here could alert the monster behind his "boss"'s guise to what Grigori knew, and when that happened... Grigori shuddered, and began to whisper to Scorpio.

"THINK FOR A SECOND, YOU SCATTERBRAINED HARLOT!! THIS OBVIOUSLY ISN'T A NORMAL MEETING-- IT'S TOO DAMN SUSPICIOUS!! QUIET DOWN... YOU'LL ATTRACT UNWANTED SUSPICION!!"

Grigori peeked out over the counter. Sure enough, Max seemed to fake a call and told those who had taken the bait exactly where to go... a dirty alleyway in the bad part of town. Organizing a squad meeting in public? Not bothering to wait for everyone to show up before telling them where to go? Using the words "lickety-split"? It was all too obvious! Fortunately, it seemed that Max had noticed neither Grigori nor Scorpio, and so they were above suspicion. Grigori turned to Scorpio, and raised his hands emphatically.

"WE'RE SAFE, FOR NOW. LISTEN, WE NEED TO TAIL THIS GUY-- HE'S NOT MAX AVENDIR... AT LEAST, NOT THE ONE WE KNOW!! HE'S TAKING OUR COWORKERS TO SOME DIRTY ALLEYWAY OFF WHERE NOBODY WOULD MISS THEM, AND WE NEED TO STOP HIM!! ARE YOU WITH ME, OR NOT?!!"

Nicholas Grey continued watching the footage about him, where he was answering questions from the media after the race. He always enjoyed the parts where he could watch himself talk, whether it be interviews or movie scenes. One reason was that he was able hear his voice which was always nice; and the other prominent reason he loved it was that he could talk alongside himself as he knew all the answers.

And as it was on, Nicholas knew he was going to have fun with this. And so, as was tradition, he began talking with his TV-self in unison, "Well, winning this race was only natural for me! Racing is in my blood!" Nicholas shook his head and chuckled, "Aaah, do I ever fear losing a reason? Do I, NICHOLAS GREY, fear losing a race?! I don't fear it at all. My vehicle is top notch, my Pit-crew are top-notch, and more importantly I AM TOP-NOTCH!"

He watched as the camera did a close-up on his smile and thumbs up. Nicholas took out a fork and slammed it deep into a chunk of lobster. Quickly he reached over to the small container of butter and jammed the fork in. With a frantic motion, Nicholas swirled the chunk around and in the process knocked down the container, causing much butter to spill and stain the napkins on the tray. However that wasn't important, as it could be cleaned up later. What was important was the fact that he had over-saturated the lobster in butter as he liked it.

Quickly, Nicholas Grey brought the chunk up to his lips and proceeded to eat it, while butter slid down his face. All the while he stood up and glanced at the television which switched from his race coverage. "BOO! And we were just getting to the good part! I was just about to..." Nicholas boldly stood up as he did a Pelvic Thrust, "TURBO THRUST." Nicholas sat back down as he finished up the veal, as he flicked through more channels. "No, no, no... Wait." He flicked the TV, and after around ten channel switches, he decided to stop. However he made a mental note to see if the hotel offered any of the movies he played some part in.

But that could wait, what mattered now was that he got to the address. Presumably it was the address of a corporate building which was renting out rooms. But that didn't matter, what mattered was that Nicholas Grey was going to arrive in style. As such he swiped the phone from the landline and dialed up the valet parking, by pressing the single button devoted to them.

With a grin on his face, Nicholas thought of his sweet car and how rad it was going to be driving it over. "Yoooo, it's Nicholas Grey, the Nicholas Grey, I need my car brought out pronto." He paused as he listened to the valet. Eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean it isn't there!?" He howled out, "Did yo-" And then a thought came upon him. He asked one of his agents to take it to get some touch-ups. "Oh right. So I need to get somewhere real quick like, what's the fastest car you can spare?"

"What do you mean you don't give out loaner cars!?" Once more he listened to the response, as he slammed his free hand against his face. "Well what kind of transport can I get? So how long for a taxi?" He tapped his foot as he grumbled out, "Too long. What else?" Nicholas Grey inquired.

"Only public transport then? Right, what time does it depart?" And with that Nicholas Grey promptly slammed the phone down.
While it was not his intended method of transport, he knew that by riding the bus, he would be with the adoring masses! He would be able to bask in the limelight of the adoring masses. Invigorated by this revelation, and the fact he had to get down there fairly quickly, he rushed out of the room and with a quick stride he headed towards the lobby.

Seeing the group leave, Jack realized they were heading to the cultist's lair. He couldn't kill them just yet if there was the possibility of taking out multiple cultists- quantity is what matters in murder, after all. He'd need a group of meatshields, however. He remembered the paranoid in the rocksuit breaking down the back door, and something about the androgynous scorpion thing that never left the store. But there was no time for stairs or elevators. No, someone needed shooting. Folding up his rifle and equipment and returning them to his briefcase, he inhale deeply as he walked toward the edge of the building... and dropped off into an open dumpster eight stories below. As the tissues and newspaper flew up, he kicked up and out of it, dusting off his shoulders and leaping from the rim of the dumpster into the window of the infamous Brightmobile. He cranked it up, gunning the accelerator, and flying out into the street, where he spun the car into a 180, reversing into the opposite alley. Looking in at the scorpion-tailed girl and rockman, he took an airhorn from the glove compartment. Rolling down the passenger side window, he blasted the airhorn and shouted at the two.

"GET IN ASSHOLES! IT'S OPEN SEASON ON DOPPELGANGERS!"

Scorpio calmly plucked an employee's brand-bearing hat from their head and donned it before moving up to the drink machines. Score! It seemed someone else had ordered chai tea and a fresh batch of the drink had just finished brewing. The old man - Grigori, Scorpio finally remembered - whispered energetically about suspicion and once more called Scorpio a harlot. Business as usual, Scorpio thought.

While filling the cup with tea, Scorpio noticed Max hadn't waited for the whole team to arrive before beginning the briefing, setting off alarms in their mind. Something was indeed going wrong, as old Grigori had said. Just as Scorpio was about to discard the tea, though, Max and the others left, setting off another alarm but assuring Scorpio that the tea was safe.

"Yeah, I'm with you," Scorpio replied to the armored wizard. They opened their mouth to continue, but was cut off by an airhorn and a shout from a familiar voice. With a grin, Scorpio turned to the door and dashed off. "Thanks for the tea, Grandpa!"

In the alley, Scorpio quickly spotted the familiar Brightmobile with its rear end closest to the doorway. "I call the back seat!" cried Scorpio with glee, seeing it vacant. The scorpion tail sprouted from Scorpio's lower back, digging powerfully into the road behind it. Scorpio jumped back, then used the tail to fling themself powerfully at the car - headfirst.

Crash.

Scorpio's shoulders caught against the front seats, preventing a close-up view of a greatly smashed central console. Shards of broken glass glittered from the floorboards beneath the androgynous abomination. Scorpio turned left to look up at Jack with the biggest shit-eating grin they could muster. "How ya been, Jackie?"

Grigori glared at Scorpio critically as she brazenly stole from the store. What monstrous behavior! To think that anyone in this community would be so bold as to break into a coffee shop just to steal from it was disgusting! Grigori turned to the stunned barista, and stared at her blankly.

"PUT IT ON MY TAB!!" said Grigori, not planning on ever returning to this store and not understanding that coffee shops don't run tabs. Grigori silently turned and stomped out the door.

Grigori stared incredulously at the side doors of Jack Bright's apparent car, and experimentally attempted to open it. He hooked one finger under the door's handle, leaving a sizable crater, and delicately attempted to pull the door open. As the door swung open, Grigori drew back his hand, taking the handle with him.

The Brightmobile's rear axle screeched in protect as Grigori failed to make himself comfortable in the back seat. Looking simultaneously surprised at himself and immensely disappointed, Grigori moved himself to the center seat.

"YOU SAID SOMETHING ABOUT A DOPPELGANGER, RIGHT?! WE SHOULD PROBABLY STOMP A HOLE IN THE GUYS WHO BRAINWASHED THE BOSS FIRST, DON'T YOU THINK?! WE CAN HEAD INTO THE WOODS TO FIGHT SKINWALKERS LATER!!"