The Mortal Instruments

New York City, New York.
9:00 pm. ​

There is a calm over the city, an unnatural stillness. The humans move about their business without a care, without a worry. But there are those who cling to the shadows, who watch without being seen, or speak without being heard. There are those that hunt, and those that are hunted. Tonight is the night of the new moon, the black sky, and the starless horizon. Tonight is where it begins.

​

Brianne looked up at the glowing sign of Pandemonium. The one safe haven for all races in New York. She had come here many times over the years, each time for a different reason, a different purpose. Tonight was no different then any other night.

The runes on her skin glowed; a Mark for speed on her thigh, revealed by the shorts she was wearing. A second Mark on her neck, to despell any glamours, and a third on her wrist, for strength. The fourth, she left unmarked, just in case she needed to cure a poisonous cut or heal a wound. Better safe then sorry.

She took a deep breath, trying to stretch out the tight shirt as much as possible before heading inside. The music pulsed in her ears, and the flashing lights nearly blinded her until she adjusted. She looked through the general crowd; not seeing her quarry in the immediate vicinity, she strode towards a private sitting area.

Ash, a warlock with whom she carried a somewhat tenuous relationship, was there. She parted the red curtain, wrinkling her nose at the excessive drama, before stepping inside. "Ash. I figured you'd be here." She sighed, resting her hands on her hips. Her stele clinked at her side. "I'm looking for one of your kind. A warlock. Goes by the name of Masque. He's here. Give him to me, and I'll put in a good word for you with the Council."

She named the ruling order of Nephilim in good faith, knowing that she had enough sway to give her...friend, some very nice benefits.

​

Morrigan let her fingers drift along the side of the pool. Central Park was lovely after the sun went down. Well, besides the beggars and murderers that stalked the street. She wasn't afraid of them, for the simple reason that they didn't see her. It was for the best really, what with her blue grey skin and somewhat ethereal beauty.

The water rippled underneath her skin, moving away from her touch. A water bug fled the carnage of its watery world, skimming towards the middle of the lake. Morrigan sighed, and got to her feet, brushing off her feathery dress before strolling towards the forest. She had work to do, and it wasn't going to get done by scrying into the water.

A shiver rolled down her spine as the dead leaves and branches crunched underneath her feet. Normally the moon would be shining down on her skin, her hair, and everything else, making it glow with the silvery light she so adored. Instead, it was dark, and dead. A new moon was out tonight, but it didn't feel new. It felt frightening.

She shuddered once more, and carried on her path.

 

​

Brianne took the offered seat, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes flicked to the shadow that left, but that was the only indication she had seen anything at all. Well, until she decided to comment. "I see you've made good use of your friend's gratitude." She said, her tone blank. In truth, she didn't approve. But she was Nephilim, and Ash....Ash was a Downworlder.

Something he didn't fail to remind her of now. "Trust me, if I was interested in your affairs, I would have asked. The only reason I'm here is that it's your duty to report any information on this Masque. He is one of your own, and he needs to be apprehended. He is killing humans, do you understand what this means? If the Council has sanctioned his capture, surely that can tell you how badly he needs to be stopped."

She wished badly she could make Ash feel strongly about something, anything. But it was hard to make someone who had seen empires rise and fall feel anything then meager interest in the doings of mortals.

"The only lead I have is what the Council gave me. A fairy reported seeing Masque enter here, not two hours ago. I can only assume he's picking out his next victim." She stood, restless. "Have your....friend, join me, then, once he returns. I see no point in becoming your entertainment until your important meeting." She turned to exit the private area, her hands on the silken red curtains once more. "It's a shame, you know. I expected more from you."

 

Hendrik had come to the Pandemonium with the younger Nephilim, Brianne. She had briefly explained to him why they were exactly out here in this rats nest. She had to talk to an old friend of hers who might have some more information in regards to their quarry. While Brianne had gone to a more private section of the club, Hendrik had remained in the normal area of the club. He hated it to be perfectly honest, didn't like clubs, the strobing lights and the loud thumping music weren't his cup of tea. He would much rather have waited outside for her to come back but then he couldn't keep an eye on the entrance to the private section and in case of a hostile situation an intervention would take longer. The runes on his body glowed, one for speed and one for dispelling any glamours, leaving him with two more. The humans didn't see him and he just watched through the crowd seeing a few downworlders, he kept watching them, he wouldn't do a thing to them seeing they weren't breaking the rules and therefor couldn't rightfully kill them. He decided to move himself over to the curtains seperating the common areas from the private areas of the club. There he waited for Brianne to come back, the look on his face clearly showing that if she came back he'd want to get out first and ask questions later so he atleast didn't have to deal with the things that he hated anyways.

 

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot abruptly shattered the peaceful ambience of the nightclub like a hammer through a mirror. A body fell to the floor. People screamed. Chaos reigned.

Backtrack by an hour or so...

She swirled, she twirled, she moved with vibrant energy. She was a masterpiece, truly the most beautiful fairy in the club. Everything was perfection, she was a melody, a beautiful song that moved harmoniously. She was a painting, every stroke of the brush made with utmost care and compassion, layered and layered by a master craftsman to create the perfect image. She was beautiful. "Oh Bartender?" Masque called to the person at the bar "See that beauty over there? Let me buy her a glass of your most expensive cocktail" Masque lay some coins on the bar "Tell her it's from a secret admirer" With that, the warlock retreated into the shadows of the nightclub, hidden by the masses of people. Throughout the flashing lights and blaring sounds, Masque was only focused on one thing. That fairy. Her face was intoxicating, her voice the sweetest sound. Perfection. He watched as the woman came to the bar and, with a look of surprise (even surprise was perfect on that face though) graciously accepted the drink. Yes. Drink up. Enjoy. For a moment Masque looked away from the woman and looked into a pocket mirror he kept on him. At the moment he was wearing a subtle mask that wore a vaguely content expression. less twisted, less contorted, than his other masks. With one hand he smoothed back his shock of white hair and straightened the blood red suit. He'd stolen some clothes especially for the occasion. The only thing that annoyed him were the horns. Imperfections, obtrusions. Disgusting. They marked him out. However, Amongst the strange types gathered at the club he was hardly out of place. The last thing he checked was the revolver hidden in his coat pocket. Loaded, with an iron bullet.

It was time. Subtly Masque made his way towards the masterpiece and she soon found herself face to face with him. At first she reacted with a beautiful expression of shock, before that perfect face shifted to a surprised chuckle. Masque followed the laughter with his ears, marveling at the harmony of it.
"And what're you supposed to be?" She questioned flirtatiously. Masque's heart pounded. He was face to face with true art, what could he say? To Masque, it seemed they were alone, despite the throng of surrounding downworlders who inhabited the Pandemonium club.
"Your secret admirer" Masque answered plainly, his own voice sounding rough and coarse in comparison to her music, he wanted to claw out his own throat, he could never achieve her level of perfection
"Oh! That was you? Well thanks" she smiled "You're too kind"
"I'm not kind enough, you deserve far more" Masque stuttered, mentally kicking himself as he said it. Curses Masque, now you're just sounding creepy "Sorry, it's just... you're beautiful"
"Oh! well thank you" She smiled. If she was put off by Masque at all she didn't show it "I wish I could say the same about you, but I can't see your face! How about you take off that mask?"
"I couldn't possibly! My own face is grotesque in comparison to your beauty!" Masque stepped back slightly, afraid she'd try to remove the mask "I am not as gifted as you, the fates have been unkind to me"
"Nonsense, everybody is beautiful in their own way" She reassured him
"Yes... you're so right" Masque smiled "I'm glad you understand true art" this time the woman did seem a little confused, but even her expression of confusion was a masterpiece "Go ahead then, remove my mask" Masque leaned in slightly. The fairy giggled, as though this was all a game. With Masque's other hand he reached into his jacket pocket, his hand curling around the revolver. Carefully she reached up to his mask and slowly lifted it. As soon as the woman could see Masque's mouth he hissed at her, revealing his razor sharp teeth. Everything happened in one second as time slowed down. The woman gained a worried expression, a disgusted expression. It was the one face she could wear that Masque despised, she was spoiled now, imperfect. Nevertheless Masque would do as he intended anyway. Death would remove that imperfect expression she wore.

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot abruptly shattered the peaceful ambience of the nightclub like a hammer through a mirror. A body fell to the floor. People screamed. Chaos reigned. Masque smiled. Securing the mask to his face again, Masque leaned down and lifted the fallen body of the fairy. Light, like a cloud. She was returned to perfection. Masque forgot once more about the chaos and terror as he stared wistfully into those eyes which had lost all life. The iron bullet from point blank range had killed her almost instantly. Now... now she would forever be art.

Perfection.

 

​

Brianne opened her mouth to reply to Ash, something witty on the tip of her tongue, when the atmosphere was shattered by the sound of gunfire. Ash reacted almost instantly, pushing past her and towards an exist. She desperately hoped he meant to watch, and not escape himself, before turning and pushing through the throng of frightened people herself, towards Hendrik. "This makes it difficult!" She yelled over the sound of screaming Downworlders. "I think we should split up! You take the exit on the right side, I'll head for the back!"

She didn't wait for him to respond before darting towards the back stairwell that led to a somewhat basement-like room with a door. A door that would take him outside without anyone the wiser. Brianne liked Hendrik, really. He had taught her useful things, and was helping her now. But liking him wasn't enough to overcome the difference that lay between them. While he was her senior, she surpassed it by holding more authority. It wasn't fair, and she knew it. Hendrik should have become head of the Institute in her place. But it wasn't her place to question the Clave, or the assignments they gave.

She jumped past the stairs, landing solidly on her feet before turning the corner..and freezing in her tracks. Was it him? Who else would be carrying...the body of a fairy? Brianne had a tough stomach, and such things didn't cause her nausea like they used to...but that didn't curb the disgust. Fairies were beautiful, and far beyond a cunning that could be dealt with, but that girl, she hadn't deserved this. And because Brianne had been too slow, someone else had paid the price.

"Masque!" She yelled, drawing her stele and sweeping one foot behind her, face determined. "Stand and pay for your crimes!" ****, should have not split up. She had confidence, but she wasn't stupid. If Masque did decide to find courage, and fight her, it would be tough. And she could only Mark one more rune.

 

Hendrik had been waiting outside of the exclusive area of the club, minding his own business which pretty much meant feeling miserable about his surroundings. What was it that drew Downworlders to clubs, he hated it all, why couldn't a meeting with a warlock be in some nice and quiet bar or a pub. He really didn't understand the appeal of these sort of places, he may just have been getting old. Then a shot rang out and panic spread like wildfire through the crowd. Moments later Brianne was next to him saying something about covering the exit to the right. Despite being her senior and more experienced she had authority over him. The Clave had willed it so and so it would happen, no matter how much he disliked it. Roxanne then showed up and he completely ignored her, why she had been left out of the institute was an even bigger mystery.

He stalked off seeing Brianne hadn't left much of a choice for him, he had to watch an exit and he was going to do just that. He pushed himself through the crowd towards the aforementioned door. He would have objected but Brianne hadn't given him a chance to do so having walked away, hopefully Roxanne had some clear moment right now and watched Brianne's back. Instead of watching the door from the inside of the Pandemonium he went outside, he had had enough of the music or noise passed off as music and walked to the opposite end of the alley, positioning himself in the shadows while keeping a watchful eye on the door, twirling the Stele between his fingers. She had just said watch the door and he was watching it.

 

"Crimes? What crimes? All I've ever done has been for art and beauty! How is that criminal?" Masque scoffed as he looked the woman up and down "Beautiful, perhaps. Determined. Yet as long as you stick to those silly ideals you will forever be imperfect. And that just won't do" Masque retorted casually. Suddenly he noticed another nephilim approaching from the side. Time to act. The dead body weighing him down, Masque was not quite as maneuverable as he should have been, so although he tried to dodge the stele glanced off his side "You, girl, have a very crude and cliched definition of madness. I disapprove" With that he waved a hand and confetting and blinding lights erupted at Brianne and Roxanne, temporarily dazzling them. Stealthily he slipped amongst the crowd, using his illusionary magic to hide but he hardly needed to, amid the chaos he was difficult to see anyway. Masque found his way to the back door of the club and slipped outside. Hefting the dead fairy's body, he climbed up a ladder and found refuge on the club's roof. "Oh I am sorry, dear. You're too heavy, I cannot carry all of you. Worry not, I have a solution, there's only one part I need to keep" Slowly and carefully he took out the dagger from his coat, and as he begun his work blood splattered across the roof. When he was done, he placed the part of the fairy he liked in a satchel, and stared with interest at the rest of her on the rooftop. He could work with this.

A few moments later the lifeless, decapitated body of the fairy dangled from a rope at the front of the club. Art.

 

​

Brianne could have fought past the glamours, could have chased Masque down, but it was pointless. She didn't have Hendrik with her, and Masque had already slaughtered his victim; it was too late for the girl. She shut her eyes, and waited for the lights to pass before opening them, and turning on Roxanne. "Damn you." She said, whipping her stele through the air angrily as she approached the other Nephilim. "Damn you for interfering, damn you for scaring him off and gods all damn you for letting him get away." She said the words quietly, without yelling, but the anger behind them was clear.

Half of her was tempted to just leave Roxanne there and go back for Hendrik, but that would just the other girl to involve herself in some later date. She sighed, putting her stele away as she rubbed her neck, the strands of her hair cascading over her fingers. "Come with me. Now. I'm going to take you back to write up a report and send it to the Clave. You can explain why Masque's blood isn't staining the cement at my feet right now." She paused as she headed back up the stairs. "And if you think of avoiding it, I'll simply report you. Then you can have every Shadowhunter in New York and beyond hunting you to bring you back to the Clave."

She continued up the stairs, up to Hendrik. "He's gone." She muttered, disappointment clear on her face. "Escaped. I have to return to the Institute with Roxanne, but you can try to pick up a trail, if you want." She looked around for Ash, and resisted the urge to try to find him. "If you do, try to enlist Ash. We're going to need more help with this one."

​

Morrigan crouched underneath the maple tree, letting the green leaves touch her finger tips, brush against her skin. The woods were still tonight, too still.She knelt down and brushed aside some of the debris to reveal a shallow puddle of water. "Why?" She asked softly, letting the very tips of her fingers touch the cold liquid, making the surface ripple. When the ripples had cleared, they revealed a most gruesome sight. Morrigan pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp, before letting the image fade. Another of her kind, gone. No wonder everything was so silent; so shocked. She should go back to the Court, report to the Seelie Queen, who undoubtedly already knew, but instead she sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees with her bare feet peeking from under her dress.

No doubt the Nephilim would be involved. Downworlders killing each other wasn't all that strange, or uncommon, but a fairy being killed was. Usually it was the body of a werewolf or a vampire, from their blood feud, or that of a demon, slaughtered by its intended victim. One of the fey.....it wasn't right. Something more was amiss. But what? She dared not go to the Shadowhunters. Unless....perhaps she should, to claim the body of their brethren.

Decided, Morrigan got to her feet, pressing her fingers to her lips before touching them to the space above her heart. "Blessed peace, sister." She murmured, before setting off, towards the place where she had seen the remains of the body.

 

Jenny's pov:



Jennifer 'Jenny' Shag at some unknown time was in a tall building she sat in a dimly light room. The dark red chair she was in standing out from all the other things in the room. Across from her sat a person in a dark blue robe. 'What brings you here?' the person asked her. The person should know why she was here, but she figured she should answer anyways. ~Several hours ago Jennifer 'Jenny' Shag walked out of one of the many buildings she owned. On different days she would go to the different buildings she owned to check on them. Really she did not know why she did it. They have been doing fine hundreds of years and today was sopost to be any different. What ever it was she did not know, maybe it was just to get out. In the end it gave her something to do so she should not complain. She walked into another building she owned, this one a bar. There were several people in the bar already. 'Did you hear.' 'No way, Do you think?' At some point she tuned the conversation out. At some point the two people left. She thought that this was odd. Most people stayed at the bar for several hours. Maybe they went Pandemonium. The Pandemonium was one of the most popular building in town. She walked out of the building when someone came up to her. 'Jennifer Shag?' "Yes, what do you want?" 'Someone wishes to see you.' She let out a sigh making her way to the building. She passed the Pandemonium building on her way. It looked packed and a interesting night. At some point making her way into the tall building. She walked into the dimly light room and took a set. "You were the one that called me here." 'Jenny..' "Don't call me that, only my closest friends call me that. Now I ask you again, what did you call me here for?" 'The Mortal Instruments...' "You called me here for a peace of jewelry." She knew it was much more then that, but she was not going to let this person know that. 'I wish to about them.' "They are nothing but jewelry nothing more nothing less." 'I thought you being a vampire you would know more.' Her eyes light up. How on earth did this man know what she was? "I do not know what you are talking about" 'You don't?' Well you best be on your way then,' She saw the person rub there head like they were thinking. This was a huge waste of time.

 

Arachea Elderweb​

Arachea shimmered in from a darkened alley, adjusting her dark dress. She had done this once in a while, just to explore areas, humans and otherwise. Though there was always something interesting in the Downworlder life, mundanes weren't to bad from interest. They were slightly predictable, from what she had seen. What if one did this? What reaction. She smirked at the thoughts.
As she stepped out of the alley, a couple of male mundanes wolf-whistles to her, smirking and giving perverted looks her way. She acknowledged them laughingly, giving them a wink, and walking off down the street. A mundane's life was so short. Compared to her, a fey, humans seemed so insignificant, but Arachea couldn't care any less. She enjoyed a good gamble as to getting a good laugh out of them. She once offered a drink to one particular mundie the other evening a few days back, and not more than an hour later, he was sprinting down the street, clothes inside out, screaming and blubbering like a mad man.

But in all seriousness, tonight was not a night for playing games. She had a vision. Her Catalyst Event ability. As advisor to the Seelie Court, she was responsible for looking for the court's best interest. And so far, her vision only activated if it directly to those she knew might be affected in anyway, shape or form. Her most recent vision was a warlock, shrouded in red, causing chaos in an area full of mundies.
Her Catalyst Event functioned as a visual crossroads for individuals, only showing what choices that said individual might make, but will never directly tell which choice will be made. But she needed more information. And the only way she knew how to get more information, was to talk to an informant. And she knew exactly who. She rounded a block and, as if on cue, bumped right into who she was looking for.
Morrigan Moonsong.
"My my, Morrigan. Just the person I was looking for. We have got to stop meeting like this." Arachea said, realizing it, smiling a bit, revealing small canines.

 

The Seelie stood motionless eyes in shock, completely petrified. It looked as if she was awaiting her next windup, but that might just have been Cassandra thinking. That’s how it worked, Cassandra thought in clockwork, This woman wasn’t an automaton, she was a person, right? Lorena could never be sure. The names helped Lorena identify what was her from what was warped, they weren’t different personalities, just labels for incorrect thinking.

“You know why you’re here, so I think we’ll just get this over with. Where is Juniper Mistheart?” Lorena raised her SMG, loaded with iron bullets, to the faerie’s throat, unfreezing her face “And I will shoot you if you don’t cooperate” Lorena couldn’t lie and that was frightening, that last bit must have been an Amanda thought; associated with murderous tendencies and violence. But she knew now deep down whether she liked it or not she would fire, something that happened far too often.
“P-Put the gun down, I can’t lie to you”
“But you can evade or distract, so hurry up. My trigger finger is feeling awfully twitchy.” Lorena pushed the gun against her throat, Amanda was getting the better of her. This woman better answer soon, she didn’t like her own kind at the best of times, but killing was unnecessary.
“Okay! Okay, she was heading out”
“Where! stop trying me” This would be it if she didn’t answer “For your sake choose your next words carefully” that was almost a plea rather than a threat.
“Goddammit! Pandemonium! ok, the Pandemonium club!” The woman would have collapsed to her knees if she could move anything bar her head.
“Thank you” Lorena half sighed lifting the gun to her shoulder, turning her back and walking away down the alley. Each footstep counted down, a rotating gear in a complex mechanism, that decided her actions and everyone else's, the great machine.
“Can you let me go!” The woman shouted behind her.
“Oh, yes, I forgot” Lorena half turned letting off a burst of rounds almost immediately killing the fairy. She had lost again, not to her surprise, the death stuck in her heart, but unnoticed, like the countless others that resided there. Lorena had become a slave unto herself. Hopefully Juniper Mistheart would fair better.

Unlikely however as it appeared someone had got to her first, Lorena dropped to one knee behind a dumpster upon seeing a shadowhunter standing sentinel outside the club, high above him the decapitated corpse of Juniper hung from the roof. Lorena dared not think how it happened although her mind gave vivid depictions of some ideas and how to replicate them. She knew returning to New York was bad. Regardless the beauty of it’s ever turning gears and the care in its immaculate design forever brought her back to the greatest of the world’s machines. Lorena darted again into the night, passing the placid faces of automatons the cities gearworks blurring into incomprehension, anger, the smell of blood and breaking glass shattering through the lens through which she watched all reality. Cassandra, Amanda, Henrietta, Georgina, Cassandra, Amanda, Henrietta, Georgina. Lorena sat huddled chanting the names and filtering her thoughts, stripping away anything that wasn’t real. The room she was in came into comprehension, some fluorescently lit public bathroom by the looks of things. She tore the goggles from her eyes, noticing the sticky feel of blood upon her hands. Looking down she saw a mundane stone cold on the floor next to her, surrounded by what adorned her hands. Lorena stood up and washed herself off in a sink, before leaving the grisly sight, she tried not let it bother her. It wasn’t the first time.

 

​

Brianne's conversation with Hendrik was cut short by Roxanne's appearance. Brianne made sure to take one long, deep breath, in order to keep herself from trying to murder the fellow Shadowhunter. "Unless, you would be willing to take Roxanne back to the Institute, and I'll follow the trail." She kept her gaze empty, her voice blank. She would not beg another Nephilim to take her place. It was her job, as Head of the Institute, to keep control of the Shadowhunters and keep in contact with the Clave. As much as she would rather be out here, hunting the rogue warlock, she knew where she belonged. That didn't mean she wouldn't let another take her place, if they desired. The place they should have gotten, instead of her.

It was then, that Rhett entered her radius of attention. "Ash's.....friend." She introduced him to Hendrik, completely ignoring whether Roxanne was paying attention. "Are you here to assist us?" She asked, hands on her hips.

​

Morrigan gracefully sidestepped to avoid running into Arachea before inclining her head. "Arachea. You were looking for me?" she inquired politely, her hands clasped in front of her. "You may follow me, if you wish, but...something terrible has happened. One of Fair Folk's life was interrupted far too soon, and I am going to collect her remains. She should be put in her final resting place with our people. Not left to rot in an unmarked, glamoured grave." It was debatable whether fairies' bodies could even rot, but Morrigan wasn't in the mood for semantics. Assuming that Arachea would follow, she turned and walked away, her bare feet touching the cold ground as lightly as though she was made of air.

Finally she came to scene. A figure stood near the body, and for a singular moment Morrigan had a fear that the vampires had come to taste Fey blood. She darted forward, putting herself in-between the body of the girl and the figure. He was a man, that much was clear. "I'm here for my sister. She belongs with her kind in her final moments. Do not make me fight you for this." The last sentence was a plea to Ash. She wouldn't be afraid to call the plants alive around her. The mundanes would be turned away by the glamour of Pandemonium, even here on the sidewalk, but that wasn't her concern. She was far from the least powerful fairy, but she hadn't yet grown her wings. Escaping if things went wrong would be...problematic.

 

Hendrik watched the exit by himself when he caught some activity on the roof, he drew his stele and drew a rune of invisibility on his lower arm and then unslung his bow. He watched curiously as the person decided to hang something down the building. That something was a corpse, he quickly grabbed an arrow from his quiver, drew the string and let fly, hoping to hit the target. He couldn't quite catch if he had hit the intended target all he knew was that he had to move around a bit before wanting to fire again. Even with the invisibility of his rune a target could track to origin of the arrows and use it to track a location. He moved to a different spot and looked again. Gone. He slung his bow back around his shoulder and waited, Brianne would soon be here.

As he saw his superior walk out the exit he decided to remove the run of invisibility again, there was no point in maintaining it. She came over to tell him their mark was gone "I know..." He said grimly. Then Roxanne came over and started to pick a fight with Brianne who didn't bite. She left him the choice of taking her place or following the trail. He didn't want to deal with the Clave, didn't have much sway with them anyways and really wasn't in the mood to deal with Roxanne, she could be quite bothersome at times. "I appreciate you giving me a choice, but we both know my place. You go back to the Institute." He said, while Brianne did know his place, he was uncertain if she knew how it had come to pass. Lesser Nephilim would have been exiled outright, only his track record saving him from that, they knew they couldn't miss him.

A new person, Rhett, showed up Hendrik had taken note of what Brianne had said about enlisting Ash's help on this one. And this person was introduced as Ash's friend. Well then it would seem no more help would be needed. Brianne had already asked him if he had come to help them. Well let's just hope that this help would be useful and not just a burden.