The Mortal Instruments

Juniper was dead, the only person who had sought to aid Lorena in her madness and she was strung up headless. Who would have done such a thing? Then again who wouldn’t? The technique was intriguing and artful, but that wasn’t right Juniper had been her friend; a concept Lorena barely understood anymore. Juniper had helped her develop the names, helped her filter her thoughts, identify right from wrong. The Seelie had hidden her from Lorena following some misguided idea that she would hurt her. Now some evil machination had destroyed her, she would remove that things head from it’s shoulders and then make a much more dramatic artwork with its entrails. No, no, no that was an Amanda thought, but Lorena was finding it difficult to find fault in it regardless how violent. Did automatons even have entrails.

Lorena was beginning to lose focus again, she wasn’t sure how long it would take Henrietta to set in. Henrietta was any thought related to dissociativity and by far the most dangerous of Lorena’s identified psychological issues, leading to long periods of blackouts.

Juniper had managed to find her way back to her hotel room, but to track Juniper’s killer she would regrettably have to return to the club, something she was not willing to do in her current state. Before she could stop herself however she was already grabbing her fur coat and turning the ticking tumblers of the front door, emerging into the turbulence of New York’s mechanisms once again.

A cab ride later and she had returned to Pandemonium, her legs had guided her here by design and on arrival Lorena felt like she was half dreaming, only her clockwork guiding her now. The shadowhunters were still here, she would have killed each one of them if it wasn’t for the danger, taking delight in the feeling as their hearts stopped ticking. But she would have to abandon them for now, beginning the climb up the fire escape to the roof where Juniper’s killer had performed their artistry.

 

Masque was shocked as an arrow glanced off his arm. Seriously, who even uses arrows anymore. He could not see the assailant though "Bow and arrow, such an outdated technique" He muttered critically. Straightening his tie he decided escape was the best option right now, people were crowding around his masterpiece, just as intended. True art had to send a message, true art had to inspire strong emotions, terror and fear were his favorites. There was nothing quite like the panic and melodrama caused by a horrific death. Masque clicked his fingers and suddenly his body and clothes became almost transparent as he melted into the shadows. He suddenly sprinted off the roof and clambered over the rooftops with elegance, with spins and flourishes for added extravagance, even though nobody could see him. It was as if he were performing some kind of dance routine around the buildings of downtown New York. Eventually he reached a small alley which he pranced into. Stopping by an unimpressive door Masque reached into his pocket to try and grab some keys. There was some scrabbling, to his great agitation they weren't in that pocket. They weren't in the other pockets either. Masque scowled and muttered with irritation "This is most quotidian, this is unacceptable!" he reached into the pockets on the satchel, and that's when he noticed that the bottom of the satchel was stained with blood "Hisss... Bad. GAH!" He stamped his foot with great irritation and dropped the satchel. He gripped onto his hair and pulled, letting out an ear-splitting scream of frustration as he did "uuuuuuUUUUUGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!". Silence for a moment. Masque counted to five, then let go, and picked up the satchel again "This... this is such a flawed situation" Finally he found his keys after some more rummaging and entered the hideout, locking it after he entered. It was dark inside, until he reached one room which had several spotlit pedestals in alcoves in the walls. Closer inspection revealed that the pedestals appeared to have faces and heads placed upon them. Gingerly he placed the head of Juniper Mistheart upon a pedestal "And here, my beauty, you shall remain forever"

 

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The stars were out in the night sky as Sieg sat on the edge on one of the many buildings that made part of the city. The lack of clouds made this a perfect night for the warlock to do his usually bit of star gazing. Other than that he wasn't really doing much to note. Most night when he was bored he would just star at the skies until he decided to leave. The building he'd chosen to sit on overlooked Pandemonium, a place in which he usually wasn't interested in what had happened there. This night would prove to be different though.

There was quite the scene going on at Pandemonium right now. Sieg may not have known the full details about it, or any details about ti for that matter, but from the looks of things something had occurred here. Whatever that something was it had caught his interest and given him something else to observe for the time being. The first thing that he decided to observe were the too people who happened to be standing outside. Maybe that would say or do something that would give him some more insight.

(More may be edited later, depends on if I remember or not)

 

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Brianne sighed, rubbing her temples. "Thank you Rhett. Hendrik will be in charge of hunting Masque. I find myself called back to the Institute." She turned to Hendrik, clasping his shoulder with one hand as she passed by. "I hope you'll have no problem working with him." She told the other Shadowhunter. "And I hope we can rejoin you as quickly as possible. "May the Angel watch over you." She told him, as she turned away, beckoning with two fingers towards the second Shadowhunter. "Come on Roxanne. I want to get this over and done with." The kindness had left her voice, replaced with irritation. She really didn't mean to, but something about the other girl just set her off.

Brianne tried to compose her face as she walked out of Pandemonium, ignoring the small groupings of Downworlders as she made her way into the backstreets, and back towards the Institute.

​

Morrigan's lips tightened, and she turned her head away. "Please, leave her covered. She deserves to be remembered as she was, not as she is. I do not want her mother and sisters to see her this way." she said to Ash.

She lowered her hands, though her eyes remained turned away. "I did not know her as a friend, but each of the Fey knows another. We aren't such a large society that we don't know each of our names, or our faces." She lifted her hand up, and a small bat dropped from the sky, alighting on her fingertips. She smiled gently, and tickled the head of the creature as it hung upside down, before whispering gently to it. The words that passed her lips were from no language she had ever read, nor one she had ever been taught. Morrigan called it "magic-speak", the ability to talk to other species besides the ones that could speak words. She was one of the few amongst the Seelie Court who retained this gift, another reason they were calling for her swift marriage.

Magic among the Fey could be passed down to children, or grandchildren, with the right breeding, of course. But now wasn't the time to dwell on her fate. The bat nudged against against her finger, and squeaked in response before dropping, and swooping back into the night. He would find the right people, the safe people.

"I'm afraid I must ask a favor." She murmured to Ash, tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. "I need help carrying her body to the edge of our land. The pond in Central Park. I will ensure you are rewarded for your time, or that of your lackey's. Once we arrive there, the others will take her home. Please, will you help me?"

The favor of a fairy was a heavy thing to offer, and Morrigan prayed it was enough.

 

Hendrik had understood that Brianne was far from pleased to go back to the Institute and taking Roxanne with her, but there was no way he could be the one in charge. The Clave had sent him here for a grave error or so they liked to call it. He couldn't take her place even if he wanted to and it was convenient that he didn't have to deal with Roxanne. The other bloke turned out to be named Reth and he was eager to get going. "No problem at all. I think we'll get along just fine." Hendrik said she then said she hoped to be able to join them in the hunt, it'd be good to fight with another Nephilim, while it wasn't a parabatai it was better than nothing. "Good luck with the Clave" He replied and then walked towards a ladder leading to the roof, he paused and turned to Reth "You coming?" The Nephilim didn't wait for an answer and climbed up to the roof if there was any sort of trail left then this would be the place to start looking for it.

 

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Just get her back. It's not worth the argument. Brianne reminded herself as she wove through the streets of New York with the ease that practice gave her, keeping an eye on Roxanne while trying to stay as far away as possible. It would have been nice to have another female Shadowhunter to converse with, someone besides Hendrik, who, kind as he was, just simply didn't understand everything that ran through her head.

At one point, she had hoped to make a friend out of Roxanne, but that changed when the girl went soft in the head. Some people just can't handle our way of life. She supposed, climbing up the steps of an old church and pulling out her stele. As she carved the rune out for the password into the air, and the glamour over the church dispelled, she sighed. It was just a matter of time before Roxanne killed the wrong person, and when it happened, she had no doubt the Clave would look to her to disburse punishment. Brianne only hoped by that point she would be otherwise occupied. Somehow.

The woman strode through the nearly empty halls of the Institute, towards the Artifact room. It was filled with glass cases that protected relics, treasures, and, well...loot taken from Downworlders. It was in here that the mirror was kept, the one spelled by the fairies to allow communication between the Institute and the Clave in Alicante, the City of Glass.

Brianne ran her finger along the edge, in a pattern only familiar to herself. No one else was allowed use of the mirror. Why, she didn't know, nor did she care to ask. Just another burden placed on her young shoulders. An old man rippled in the image, his beard flowing towards the ground. Brianne bowed to him, keeping Roxanne out of view, for now. Despite her antagonistic attitude, the girl was a fellow Shadow hunter, and she had only wanted to help, in her own strange way.

"Sir, I come bearing news." In order to make her creator's job easier, she summed up the encounter between Masque, herself and Hendrik, before reluctantly adding Roxanne into the story.

"Let me see her.' The old man intoned, and Brianne stepped away, motioning for Roxanne to come forward.

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Morrigan didn't respond to Ash's comment, instead leading the way back towards Central Park, her hands drifting along the alley way walls. She could have carried her sister back, but it wasn't practical. This wasn't the only sibling she had lost, and it would be far from the last. Until this....person, was caught, it wasn't safe for anyone to be alone. She knew that her parents would fully intend on either dragging her back into the Seelie Court for safety, or forcing her fiance to guard her. Neither option sounded like one she was willing to take, so she made a third for herself. For now, anyway.

She had no intention of following the warlock around, or vice versa. For now, it would suffice. The immediate future, however.......

She kept quiet until they reached the pond, and knelt at the edge, her fingers forcing the water to ripple. The longer the ripples, the more the water seemed to pull away from the center until it revealed a set of stone stairs. Two elves and two fairies walked up the steps, Morrigan felt her stomach drop as one of them became more familiar each step he took.

He said nothing as they looked at the body, but his gaze never left her face. "The Seelie Queen thanks you for your service in helping our sister come home." He said to Ash after a long pause. "She also wishes you to know that whatever bargain Morrigan made with you, is for you and Morrigan alone. She is not responsible for the dealings of those in her court, who do what they wish without orders."

Morrigan held her pose, though mentally, she winced. She hadn't thought the Queen would mind, but apparently, this was one of the warlocks that wasn't favored. "We'll take her home now."

The elves and second fairy took the body from Ash, and Morrigan's fiance turned to stare at her. It was commanding, he wanted her to follow him. Well, unfortunately, she wasn't in a following mood. Not now, and not ever. She held her ground, staring him down even as the others turned and left, the water sliding over the sides of the stairwell until the pond was once more glassy, and smooth.

If she drowned herself, would they be able to see it? Morrigan shook her head at such folly before turning back to Ash. "Thank you. I will keep my promise, and uphold my end of the bargain." Whatever it may be.

 

The Old Man, as he was so named by this girl, sighed. "Roxanne, you used to be one of the best and brightest. It has pained us in the Clave to see you fall so far." He rubbed his bald head, deliberating on how to deal with the girl. They needed every Shadow Hunter they could get, but Roxanne, by the tale that Brianne told, had cost them a highly wanted target. Someone who wouldn't stop until he himself was stopped.

And there was a reason Brianne had been named Head of the Institute. This wasn't Roxanne's first infraction either. He knew what some of his fellows would want, but he had always had a soft spot for this generation of Nephilim, the two girls in front of him especially. Intelligence and ability were something to be treasured, while the other members of the Clave only saw them as weapons. With a sigh, he lowered his hand, resting it back upon his staff.

"Roxanne Slane, I hearby put you on a probationary period. You are not to leave the Institute without permission from Brianne Lightwood, who will be your immediate supervisor. You are to report to her regarding any and all matters you attend to, no matter how small. It will be up to Brianne which missions you are allowed to take, when and if you are allowed to leave, and what your role will be during aforementioned missions. If you disobey this order, or her in any way, there will be no mercy for you, child. Do you understand me?" His tone, while gentle and full of regret, turned stony and solemn by the end. It was imperative Roxanne understood this was her last chance. Her only chance.

It was too late for any of them to save her, except for Brianne. Maybe together, they could save this girl from the painful death she was rushing towards.

​

 

Breathless, the boy arrived at the motel room. A few hours ago this event had been reported, it had quickly arrived at Shadow Hunter ears. And since the others were preoccupied with the events at pandemonium, the young new Shadow Hunter Nicholas Nightwine was sent to deal with it. He arrived before the mundie police, he came as quick as he could. "Right, what do we have here... oh god" Nicholas covered his mouth as he looked upon the scene, and left the room. Closing his eyes and breathing heavily, he built up the courage to go back. Demons... demons were the worst. There was no doubt that it was a demon, the dead husk was clear evidence of that. Both were human, one of them a woman. Unclothed. Carefully, and nervously, Nick examined the scene. The demon had left his possessed body here, there was no way to track the killer from here. Deciding there was nothing else that could be done.

On the walk back Nicholas tried not to think about the dreadful situation, and what was worse was that he couldn't bring the demon to justice.

Masque's hands trembled as he reached up for his mask, taking it off always hurt, but he had to. Slowly and carefully he removed the mask, and glanced at himself in a mirror. Hissing at his reflected he realised how ugly he was. How could he be the prophet of perfection and art with such a visage? As he parted his thin lips, razor sharp teeth could be seen. Hurrying, he quickly put the mask up on its shelf and took another one down. This one's features were twisted into a manic expression of depression, a frown of inhuman proportions and drooping eyes. Placing it upon his face he looked back in the mirror. That was better. He had hand-crafted these masks over several decades, only perfection was acceptable. Even now, Masque noticed impurities here and there that showed his own shoddy workmanship. Scowling Masque walked out of his room of masks. The satchel lay on the ground, blood caking the bottom. Masque breathed in and clenched his fists. stupid stupid STUPID. If he'd left a trail of blood... they could find him. Spontaneously Masque gripped at his hair and hissed, as he fell to the floor. He'd made too many mistakes, he'd let passion get in the way of perfection, why couldn't he prioritise properly? STUPID. Masque pulled out his knife. "Punishment must be delivered"

 

Hendrik was up on the roof looking for clues as to where the hell Masque had gone. Rhett had followed him onto the roof and well they apparantly weren't the only ones here. There was another Downworlder there, a fairy he decided to ignore her. No point in bothering her. He didn't particularly like Fairies either, too much of a hassle to deal with. Vampires and Werewolves were pretty straight forward, the Clave while bothersome wasn't too bad to deal with. Demons was even easier, but Fairies had the habbit of dicking you over, he wasn't gonna open a potential can of worms. He walked around in an attempt to find any leads on the killer he had been pretty good in leaving no traces, except one there was a trail of blood. He turned to Rhett "We got a lead, think you could help me following the trail?" He asked the young downworlder. When out of earshot of that Fairy he might actually try and get to know his compatriot.

 

The old man could only sigh at Roxanne's response, but let it go. It wasn't easy for an adult to be forced under guard, like a child. But Roxanne had to redeem herself, or be lost forever. "A moment, Brianne." He asked as Roxanne turned away.


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Brianne hesitated, struggling between the urge to retort to Roxanne and the call of duty. "Just go." She growled before turning around, smoothing the emotion out of her face once more. "It seems there has been a rise in murders. The Inquisitor reports that this is the cause of a demon. We've already dispatched a young man to the location, but I would like you to join him." He seemed to sense Brianne was about to protest, because he held up one gnarled hand. "Hendrik has other help against Masque, and he is a seasoned Shadowhunter. This other matter needs your immediate attention."

Brianne wanted to stamp and scream. Of course the other matter was more important. They were all but condemning Hendrik to death, should he succeed and find Masque. Should he fail, he would be berated by the Clave. Brianne didn't care about the past, she cared about the present, and in the present, her friend and mentor was in danger, though not immediately.

"Of course, sir." She said through gritted teeth, bowing before striding away as the mirror's image rippled. "ROXANNE HURRY THE F*CK UP!" She screamed through the Institute. It was only the two of them at the moment, and she needed an immediate release for her frustration. "WE HAVE A NEW MISSION!"

She yanked her stele out and removed the runes from her skin, her face tense as she spelled out three fresh ones; Strength, Speed, and Sight. Not the Sight, it was impossible for Nephilim to look into the future. She blinked as the rune faded into her skin, then pressed her hands to her eyes as they ached in the light. It would take adjustment, but if she was to look for clues, she would need all the help she could get.

"Don't get yourself killed, Ser Nightwine." She muttered as she let her hands fall and blinked, her eyes watering. "Because you've got company coming."

 

Rhett had caught up to him "Aye morbid as it may be, it's convenient for us. Rookie mistake on his behalf." Hendrik said simply, agreeing with Rhett, it was quite a mess indeed. Blood had gone everywhere, then Rhett went on about warranting something rather specific for this chase. He took out a small vial of black liquid and asked him to look away. Hendrik did as he was asked, he probably wasn't exactly comfortable with the change yet. Then Rhett muttered something about someone lying to him regarding the potion. Ash by any chance? A small smile crept up on his face. Betrayal always came at the most inconvenient times and in the least convenient ways. Just like the Clave had dropped him when he thought they would understand his choice. He then heard a low rumble and he turned back around where Rhett had stoond a large black wolf with a single white stripe running from his chin down. At a younger age Hendrik would have found it awesome, now while still seeing the majesty of the creature and recognising it's strength was not as impressed, not that he wasn't impressed just not as much as he would have been. Seeing he already had his speed rune on him he was confident he could keep up with Rhett and nodded at the great wolf saying "Ready when you are. Lead the way." The hunt for Masque had begun in earnest.

 

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Morrigan tensed at Ash's words. She might belong to him one day, but she would remain her own until the very last minute that she could take. Even so, she inclined her head towards Ash, turning away from the pond, and her fiance, leaving him standing there. "Tell Her Majesty I will work to find the killer, and bring him to justice before any more of our family is taken from us." She said over her shoulder, steel in her voice. He may be her fiance, but she was daughter of the Moonsong clan, Eyes of the Queen herself, and a fairy of the night. She had gotten all of that on her own, with no need or want of a man. And that wouldn't change any time soon, if she could help it.

She passed by Ash, back straight and head held high. "And I am not his woman." She said, the words poison as they escaped her lips.