Search Warrant

January 23, 2016:

Detective Crowley executes a search warrant on the Institute. More than she wanted to know is discovered.


Various locations.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

There was a reason why Scott set up the appointment for Detective Crowley to visit on a Saturday morning. Most people are asleep. Especially the kids that live here - though a fair number of them are taking advantage of the nearly foot of snow that had fallen the night before. Even the teenagers are up a little earlier than usual to go out and have a massive snowball war in the backyard. NO POWERS. There's some snow sculptures being built by some of the more artisticly inclined children along the driveway, and most of the staff is using this as a day to catch up on grading and lesson plan for the next week.

However, Scott is waiting at the entrance to the Institute. He has Hank's file tucked under one arm, and a cup of coffee in the other as he glances at his watch after security informed him of Lillith's approach.

It was all impressive really; a school as big as this that had mostly stayed off of the radar, why.. not many fights had even broken out at the school compound that police had to respond to and write tickets for and even the Catholic schools suffer that little fate with tiffs and disturbing the peace. But nothing. Nothing but glowing commendations from the teachers and students alike, and even those whom were registered either drop off the radar or leave fulfilling and quiet lives. Not bad, Mr. Summers. Not bad at all.

The approach was met with minor annoyance after exiting her vehicle, the chill causing her shoulders to lift and gloved hands squeezing her peacoat shut as she slams the door after her exit. "Mr. Summers." She acknowledges, taking those quick steps up the stairs, one hand shifting into her pocket as she pulls out a folded paper, thick as it was covered.

"Search warrant. I'm sure it's not needed but just in case I need to go digging further. Covering bases on the legal side, of course." She wasn't trying to be mean, or upset the fellow, but their last meeting wasn't tip top and she figured they'd be on edge. Comes with the job.

It's early but Peter doesn't sleep late. It's too dangerous. And there's snow. Lots of snow. It's not something he has a lot of experience with, not in this amount. It's also hella cold so there's no real desire to go out in it. He wanders out of the cafeteria with his own cup of coffee and pauses when he sees someone who screams cop. No one else can hand over a folded piece of paper the same way. He wanders a little closer then blinks and shakes his head as he gets a mind full of static, grunting in surprise.

There's a slightly anbnoyed look as Scott accepts the folded sheet to unfold it and read it over. "You'll find that we do follow state and federal mandates here, Detective." he offers calmly as he opens the door to allow her access to the foray so that she can get out of the cold weather and warm up. "There are no weapons or drugs tolerated on campus." though he makes no mention that to some, most everyone on the campus is considered a weapon. "The students here are learning to control of their powers and how to use them in a responsible and legal manner." he explains as they walk towards the staff hall.

That's when he notices Peter coming out of the cafeteria. Speaking of those that are learning to be responsible with his powers, he gives just a faint smile. "Peter, this is Detective Crowley of the NYPD. She's investigating Doctor McCoy's dissapearance. Lillith, this is Peter. One of our new students. He may seem a little old, but we do offer GED and distance learning courses to those that are still seeking an opprotunity they were never offered." he points out. "The staff hall is this way." he gestures with the mug to lead the way.

Lillith breathed COP. It was a hard thing to hide when you were undercover. People often times over compensated by wearing Jersey's and baseball caps and whacky baggy styles to accomidate their neighborhood that they were stationed in. It's always the baggy pants and sunglasses. That screams cop. But the way she carries herself all straight back and stiff neck spoke of too long on the force and the need of vacation.

Once out of the cold, Lillith bounces ever so slightly, dusting a little bit of snow from her shoulders as she reaches up to draw the hat from her head, letting out a little breath as the heat catches her and warms her, making her core feel very, very nice. Gloved fingers mess her hair just a touch as she takes in the sight of the foyer, gesturing towards Scott to lead the way as she listens with abject curiousity.

"I'm not here to judge the school or what you do here, Mr. Summers. I'm only here to find Dr. McCoy." She had to keep a narrow mind on it all, and not judge. Nor put him in a place where he had to explain everything. Her focus had to be clear.

Seeing Peter there, she studies him briefly, her gloved hand outstretched for a shake if he's willing to take it. "Mornin', Mr. Peter." She was sure she wasn't going to get his name, or a shake if at all. Either way, if he does or doesn't, she moves along, her eyes carefully studying the surroundings.

Peter studies the offered hand a moment, obviously deciding whether he wants to take it or not then steps forward to do so before enough time has passed that she drops it. "Peter's my first name." And the only one he's given so far. Without being invited, he falls in behind the others. /She's a psiot./ he tells Scott telepathically.

~What did Betsy tell you about probing into other people's heads?~ Scott thinks, a gentle chide at Peter about being too nosy. Even if Scott knew she was a mutant, it doesn't show. He gives a nod to her explanation. "It's the inevitable questions we get from every guest, Detective. I've actually suggested to our headmistress that we just print out a general Q and A when someone visits the campus." It's only said half-jokingly as he folds his hands behind his back, a nod offered to a pair of bundled up students that streak by on their way outside. "Watch the running!" he calls out after them, as he slides his security card through a secondary set of doors that read 'STAFF ONLY'.

Leading down the series of rooms where the instructors stay, he pauses at Hank's room, swiping his security card through again to open the door. "Here we are, Doctor McCoy's office and room."

There was a pause as she catches the children streaking around the halls, a little smile forming along her lips as she pushes on with the following. "So you do get a lot of visitors?" She asks, curious, if nothing else. For it to be a school, she quietly noted to herself, it was highly secure. Key card accesses, which seems highly advanced from the schools that she's visited herself. Though, it was probably important, something that's filed away to be noted for later.

As the door was opened to her, she gives Mr. Summers a nod and pushes herself in, her hands drawing into her pocket as she studies the lab with an open mind. Refrigeration units, microscopes, computers.. printers.. and another door. "What's beyond there? I'm assuming it's where he sleeps?"

/I didn't./ Peter answers, continuing the unspoken conversation. /I can hear everyone's thoughts without going into their heads unless I try hard not to and even then it doesn't last long. Hers are static." Which is actually better than inane drivel about the latest fashion or TV show. He takes another sip of his coffee and adds /Besides, I can feel it. Does everyone know this is a school for mutants?/ Following the others into the lab, he looks around curiously.

"On occassion. Usually our visitors are those that are perspectives or bringing us perspective students." Scott pauses for a second and turns his attention to Peter. "Yes. Professor Xavier has made it no secret that this is a school for excecptional and gifted students - what are called mutants or psiots, as you put it." he says, deciding to drag the young man out of thinking at him. As much as Jean, Emma, and Betsy use it, he's not a fan himself, and it still causes him headaches when coupled with the injury that cost him the control of his powers.

"That would be Doctor McCoy's living quarters, yes." he responds as he returns his gaze to Lillith and settles his arms loosely across his chest to take a draw from his coffee. He remains in place near the door so that the detective may do her work, as he takes his own notes on her in return.

Lillith was aware that Peter was behind her. He wasn't exactly making it a secret. There was always a hesitance with someone walking behind her, which causes her to occasionally glance back behind her shoulder at the young man until they were at a stand still in Hank's space. Though, there was a little confusion. Her gaze falls from Scott to Peter, and Peter to Scott again with an upraised brow and a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Well, alright.." She murmurs quietly, then pushes forth.

Once his living quarters were made known, Lillith takes those steps to venture forward, heading straight towards the private space without touching the lab itself. Though, there was something curious laid out upon the table, the scrap heap flashing red for a moment then powering down draws her to stop and take a glance with a frown. "Does he normally dismantle things and leave them partially operable?" It was Sentinel tech. But Lillith didn't know exactly what it was. It looked all like bits, bobs and bolts to her.

So she knows he's a mutant. This does not thrill Peter but now he knows to stay out of sight of visitors in the future if he decides that's something he needs to do. He steps to the side of the door and leans back against the wall to stay out of the way. "Was he taken from here?" That seems unlikely all things considered but… "There any suspects?" He's asking Scott, letting the cop do her thing uninterrupted though she can hear him of course. "If you need my help…"

While Scott may know exactly what Hank was working on - in this case how to defeat the Sentinel's mutant detection sensors - he doesn't give it any voice. He instead offers a little bit of a chuckle. "He's a scientist and always been naturally curious, Detective. It is better he does it here than trying to take apart the coffee pot in the common area." he states as if that has actually happened before as he watches the Detective at work. "No, he wasn't taken from here; he was ambushed on his way to a meeting at the United Nations to speak on mutant rights as they are emerging in Europe, I believe is what he told me. Doctor Grey and I had talked to him recently, he is planning on becoming more vocal in the field of mutant rights and we were actually planning for him to resign." he admits as he leans against the doorframe.

He glances over at Peter. "According to the reports we got, the person that attacked and took Hank was the same one that tried to attack Beverly Sunderland a couple of weeks back. I haven't had a chance to speak with her on it yet, though I suppose it is more of a police matter now. Detective, have you had a chance to meet with her?" he asks Lillith as he returns his attention back to her.

The questions that Peter asks were question she's asked before. She's gotten the suspect's description from Scott when he visited the precinct, so she doesn't revisit that line of questioning. As she opens the door to his living space, she looks around. It was quite clean and actually spartan. There were no errant smells of cigarette smoke or liquor, or something that would suggest that he was an addict other than from his work, which gives thoughts to her own space and how it looks. Neverminding the two as they converse, she takes the step inside, her fingers pressing together as there was a show of relectance as her gloves come off, soon shoved within her pockets along with her hands as she turns to settle down upon his bed.

"No. My apologies for that. Still working on a cold case that's been made priority. Murdered mutant. Human trafficking.." She didn't mind sharing that information. It was on the news, after all. Albeit very briefly.

So no one whose mind Peter can plumb for information. Well, the offer was made if Scott wants to take him up on it once there is someone. Falling silent again, he watches the detective do her thing. In this case, sitting on the bed. How firm a mattress Dr. McCoy likes must be of importance to the police.

"Lots of casework for one person." Scott observes dryly. He knows how overworked the police are, he respected that - he also knows how mutant cases are generally lost and forgotten - that he doesn't respect so much. "If you want to speak to Miss Sunderland, Peter, you're more than welcome to." he says with a chuckle. "She may be visiting the school soon to help with some of our drama department stuff, but her sunny disposition may send you hissing into the shadows." he says in a half-tease as he listens to Lillith and nods. "Of course, I'm afraid there's nothing we have to offer here on that, isolated as the school is." Even if he was lying, it is impossible to tell. He's learn to master the poker face. "Was there anything else you needed to look for, Detective, or may I show you out?" Apparently his last visit with her is still settled on his mind, and even Peter's revelation about her hasn't set him any more at ease.

Firm mattresses -are- important. Especially their angles. As Lillith sits and watches the two, her hands slowly withdraw from her pockets to lay carefully on the bed. If they were really studious, they would see there was a slight tremble, as if she didn't want to do it in the first place but it was necessary. The bed, it was always going to be a point of contention for her because people rarely pass up the opportunity to sleep in it. It was something that was always in contact with the victim, whether standing, sleeping, laying and reading, or other activities mentioned.

EDITORS NOTE: Trying to keep it PG folks!

The trick to this all was contact for her, contact needed to allow her imagination to soar, to pick and pull and guess from that imagination even though it was the truth. And most of the time, she was right. That was one thing that was never understood.. how was she right when she just.. guesses? Intuition.

"Yeah.. too much." She idly comments, her eyes gone straight, pupils growing wide as saucers as her gaze flits left and right, back and forth.. up.. then down. What she sees and what she thinks were two different things, and to her it almost seemed a few minutes have passed when it was only but a second.

Her hands snatch up from the bed to rub the middle of her palms briefly, fingers pressed as she immediately stalks out of the room. "Piece of paper, pen. Then I'm leaving. There's nothing to be found here."

Now that was an interesting display. /Did you see that?/ Peter asks Scott, going back to telepathy. He's not quite sure what to make of it though and as the detective stalks out, he looks at Scott and shrugs before pushing off the wall and following.

Scott had seen the display, yes. As Lillith is pressing her hands on the bed, he goes over, and glances at the project that Hank was working on. Picking up one of the bolts, he's studying it as he hears the request for paper and pen. "Oh, right!" he says, snapped out of his thoughts as he turns suddenly, as if startled by her request as she comes closer. As he turns, he fumbles the bolt, sending it through the air towards Lillith. "Erk!" he manages in surprise as the small piece of metal goes flying.

Now, that was something that she didn't see coming.

The 'erk' and the bolt that flies through the air was so direct that it would cause a broken nose. While Lillith was no stranger to pain, she didn't want to be put on desk duty again for a simple mishap. But the gloves were off, and her hand quickly and deftly reaches up to snatch the bolt from the air, her fingers curling around the metal.. and that's when all hell breaks loose. In her head.

They would see her catch it, and bring her hand down to toss it towards Scott as if it were hot. But in her mind, it seemed as if it took forever.

Instead of the pupils of her eyes expanding, the darkness took up the entire expanse of her eyes, the sclera colored back as she takes in a shrill of breath.

What she sees was phenominal, a trace back into time, that bolt being locked into place inside of some unknown building that was stories high, many men in white coats pouring over schematics, even sometimes arguing, and some cheering with papers flown into the air in victory..

..and then the touchdown of the monstrosity, beams flying, a loud boom that seemingly shakes Lillith for a breath of a second..

..the contents dropped upon the table, taken apart by McCoy and inspected before he looks up and smiles..

..and then a land so war torn, a woman cradling another as she lays dead, blood everywhere. She screams as she looks up, her arm shielding her face as that same red beam bears down upon the two, obliterating them.

Lillith finally lets out a breath, her teeth gnashing at the air, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she falls back onto the ground, stiff as a board as if she were tasered right between the shoulderblades and brought to a stand still.

There's more images - not just of the white coats - but of half-man, half-machines looking over it as it's reawakened. Snow. So much snow.

.. an attack force. Images of red and white mixed with other colors, scanning.. scanning..

.. locking onto one alone. Out of all the attackers, only one was targeted.

.. an unexpected error. Self-repair diagnostics.

.. the shape of an Amazonian female just before the sword comes crashing down.

Catching the bolt as it's hot potatoed to him, Scott snaps, "Peter, catch her!" the fall wasn't expected result to the overload of emotions, but he's going to do his damnest to keep her from hurting herself.

Peter was watching Lillith not Scott so he doesn't see the bolt flying through the air till it enters his field of vision. Not that he'd stop it since he doesn't want to advertise his abilities to the cop. He doesn't know that the bolt came from a Sentinel. He doesn't know what a Sentinel is. Survival takes precedence over watching the news. But he knows now as Lillith broadcasts everything she sees directly into his head. Catch her? Who's going to catch him? The coffee cup falls and shatters when it lands as he reaches up to clutch at his head and groan, staggering back into the wall and sinking down onto the ground.

Peter or the Detective. Well, it is a lot easier to hide Peter's body than it would be Lillith's.. though honestly it's because Peter seems to have some control over his fall that Scott lurches forward, catching Lillith before she hits the floor and careful to avoid her hands as he frowns. "Get it together, Peter." he says in a snappish tone to shake him back to the here and now as he moves towards the bed to put her back on it. Hank's bed - seeing more action than Hank has.

Peter unfortunately gets a full blast of everything. Now that she was open, random mutterings which sound like a madwoman's rants are fed to him within that powerful push. He could possibly see everything that was afforded to him, meeting Brinley, hanging with Kurt, the Purfiers and the Reavers, nearly being sawed in half, the hospital stay, the home invasion, her training.. and then dead space as everything before that goes black.

It was truly a terrible thing to see, he could probably even catch a glimpse of her end in the fight as the pillars begin to rise in New York, but that story itself was neither here nor there.. she was out of it and nearly seizing.

She hisses and crackles nearly even as she's laid upon the bed, those few moments of her seizing up, kicking against the bed, thrashing left and right was met with a sudden silence and breathing of the norm. Her hands lay limply against the bed which soon jerk straight up to grasp at her coat to grasp and clutch to keep them somewhere more familiar. Her.. goddamned.. head..

'Get it together' he says. Peter fumbles in his pocket for a pill bottle, opens it, and spills out not one but two into his palm which promptly get swallowed dry. Putting the cap back on, he lifts his knees and and folds his arms on them, resting his head on his arms as he tries to put a shield up. Not the easiest thing to do when you're being bombarded by images he'd really prefer to not see and the screams are still echoing in his memory.

Scott allows her to thrash for the moment, he's not going to pin her down and make things worse. It's as if he's had practice with this before as he waits for her fit to end before he offers the gloves back to her. "Slip these on, quickly." he tells her as he glances towards Peter. He sees the pill bottle, but that can be addressed later as he turns his attention towards the detective. "Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth.." he urges her quietly.

The gloves were angrily snatched, her fingers immediately slipped into as she tugs and pulls with her fingers to ensure a correct fit. It was then that she slowly sits up, her hand clutching her head, her arm moving and flailing so that Scott could get the hell out of her way as she lurches from the bed towards the stand where the bolt had previously laid. She wanted a paper and pen, even more so, she /was/ going to scratch down her cell phone number so that he could call if there were any updates.

But she felt cold, dark.. her caramel skin pale as she drags the lain pen and a piece of already written on paper and begins to write.



Maybe that would help them, she didn't know. That's all she could feel at the moment and those feelings were prominent. She breathes finally, in through the nose, out the mouth, her body at a slight hunch as she wraps an arm around her stomach to seek away out. Screw this. She needs a fucking drink.

With a stumble past Peter, she spares the man one last look, confusion within her gaze as she traces her path out and into the foyer.. kids pass her by but she wisely stops, allowing them to rush away with her unseen as she draws out her phone to dial a number.

"It's Crowley. Yes. Pick me up. Bring an officer to get my car. No. I'm taking the day." There was no bye on her end. She just needed to get to the cold air before she loses what little breakfast she had.

Putting a shield up is closing the barn doors after the horses have escaped. Or, more accurately, after the cougar has gotten in. The horses are dead and there's blood everywhere. But at least there's no new input and Peter just needs to deal with what he saw and push it aside. He wasn't there, it wasn't him. Fortunately, he hadn't eaten breakfast yet so the Oxy can kick in more quickly than if he had. Deep breaths, good idea. He doesn't look up as the cop leaves as he concentrates on separating him from not him.

Scott looks at the note and the number, watching her leave. He reaches up to send a text towards the rest of the staff to give her a hand if she needs it, as he turns and kneels down next to Peter. "You alright?" he asks, offering his hand to the young man to help him up.

"Yeah." Peter can feel Scott looming and he lifts his head a fraction to see the hand. "That was unexpected. And loud." Sudden and overwhelming. He moves the pill bottle to the other hand then takes Scott's to pull himself up. "She can see the past by touching things." he tells the man. "Harada could do that." He slips the bottle into a pocket then rubs his eyes. He needs a fucking drink.

As Peter reaches to push the bottle in his pocket, Scott grabs his wrist, forcing his hand up while he's disoriented to look firmly at the bottle - the first thing he checks is to see if it's perscribed. Apparently he was serious about the no drugs thing.

There's no label. Peter's fingers tighten on the bottle just in case Scott gets any ideas. "They muffle everyone's thoughts." he tells the man, meeting his eyes. It's not an excuse or an apology. Merely an explanation.

"I want you to see one of the doctors on staff, as soon as possible. You can explain it to them." Scott doesn't take away the bottle, though with his training, he's tempted to give it a shot. "If I see this again, I will have you removed from the premises. One strike, that's it. You understand?" he asks, turning his ruby gaze directly on Peter.

"Yes. I'll make sure you don't see it." Peter says. He has no objection to seeing a doctor so doesn't argue about it. "Is the cop going to be trouble now?"

"I don't think so. We'll talk again when she's had a chance to digest what she might have sensed. I don't want to press her for now." Pushing to his feet, he helps Peter to his own and releases the young man's hand. "We just got over a huge case with the Smooth around here. I don't want a new drug causing trouble." he says simply as he turns to stalk out in order to share the information with Jean. How much he decides to share - well, that's up for grabs.

"I don't share." Peter tells the man's back as he puts the bottle back in his pocket. He leans back against the wall and exhales loudly. Looks like it was smart to scout out M-Town for a place to stay.

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