Chapter Text
"Mistress, we're here."
Finally, at long last. As much as she liked flying at night, her wings were beginning to get a little sore. Coming through the window, she surveyed her surroundings, the room of the long abandoned building coated in dust, cobwebs around every corner. What little furniture there was had lost form and overall use long ago, it being little more than a formation of wood and cloth.
The long haired beauty hidden in the shadows wrinkled her nose in disgust. Despite whatever conceptions humans had of her kind, she did NOT simply sleep in whatever spooky place there was. Her living quarters were meant to be kept in order and looking splendid. In place of stone walls rested old, rotting wallpaper, in place of lavish furniture rested dirtied chairs and a broken vanity mirror, and in place of a bed adorned with fat, red roses was nothing more than a worn out mattress with several questionable stains on it.
She would not live like this for more than one night at most.
"Lucian." She spoke up. "Hand me your coat."
The two figures that were with her transformed from their bat form, one a hulking figure while the other was short and lumpy. Like she, they too were hidden by the shadows of the night, yet, like their mistress, were more than eager to get some sleep. "Ah, of course, mistress." The larger of the two said, removing his coat, yet he paused upon looking at the bed. "I'm, mistress? Are you sure-"
"Positive." His mistress said firmly. "I'm not sleeping on that thing's bare surface. Now cover it so we can all get some rest." She pointed to the stained bed. With a grown, the hulking figure laid his coat out on the bed. "Cleaning begins tomorrow." She then said. "This room is to be spotless and furnished when I return from my little job hunt tomorrow. Am I clear?"
"Yes, mistress." Both the large and little figure said.
"Good. Now, let's all get some sleep." the woman released an exhausted sigh. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, mistress." Both of her servants said, the large one finding a chair to recline in while the smaller one rested on his shoulders.
Her wings had long since retreated into her, she transitioning into a more comfortable sleeping position, her attire coming off of her in small strands of cloth, rearranging themselves into a soft, silky gown of light pink, her hair spreading like a veil as she lowered her head. This whole situation was awful. To think, there would be a time that she DIDN'T want to go to the human world. Still, there was no other choice for her or her two servants. Everything was gone now. Her home, her last remaining relative, everything. All taken from her at once. All into the void. She had no other choice but to come here. It was either that, or she could join the rest of the nobles and servants that perished alongside her family's chateau. She didn't wish to leave, far from it. She wanted nothing more than to stay and fight. Yet before she could even realize what had happened, she had been whisked away to this place, out of her realm and to the one she used as an escape from her home.
And escape that now would have to be her new home for some time. For how long, she didn't know, yet she could only hope that, ironically enough, that it wouldn't be permanent. Though...while she was here, perhaps she could find some sense of enjoyment. After all, this place was quite large and packed with several interesting sights. Sights that she could use as a means to move her mind away from what had just happened. This city...she would find what it held, both in its alleys and high in its skies.
Though...perhaps finding some work was in order, much to her dismay. And an actual place to rest her head. No way was she staying here. She had a good amount from the small 'surprise' that she had found courtesy of her late father, yet even she knew it wouldn't last forever. She could only hope that she could find something at least mildly interesting.
A Few Weeks Later
Daily Bugle
The brunette man watched in anticipation as the mustached head of the Bugle went through and took in every detail of every photo that was handed over. "Is there a problem, sir?" the photographer asked, though inwardly, he was rolling his eyes. What was he kidding? Of COURSE there was a problem. There always was. The photographer in question had a red shirt covered with a denim jacket, jeans, and simple, brown shoes on. His eyes were hazel and skin apricot. He was clearly younger than the man behind the desk, his hair greying and dressed in a suit of blue with a red tie.
"It's all the same, Parker!" J. Jonah Jameson proclaimed in frustration. "Every week, it's all the same thing!" He then held up a photo, pointing to the image of a red and blue clad 'menace' (Jameson's works, not Peter's) swinging by a couple of buildings. "Spider-Man seen swinging by in Times Square!" He then took out another photo. "Spider-Man's taken a stop down in Queens!" he then slammed the photos down on the desk. "Not one ounce of exposure for the renegade delinquent that he is!"
Peter had to keep himself cool, reminding himself over and over again that this guy was the head of the Daily Bugle (though that didn't make him any less of an ass). "Well...maybe he's feeling a little camera shy this week?"
"Or he's getting better at avoiding you, Parker." Jameson replied. He groaned, rubbing his sore temples. How was he going to make a headline out of these photos? As far as he was concerned, these would just be retreading the same ground over and over. What could he do? 'Spider-Man: Planning something big?' or 'Spider-Man: Menace on the move!'. Frankly, he was scrambling for ideas, yet found himself running dry. "Anyway, get yourself ready, Parker. I've got another job for you." Peter was somewhat surprised at this, yet at the moment, he was sort of wanting a bit of a break from having to take Spidey's photos. Perhaps a break in the routine would be what he needed. "American Museum of Natural History just opened up a new exhibit." Jameson explained. "Something Irish or Scottish, don't really know. Basically the same thing from what I remember from high school."
'Don't know which high school YOU went to, but they're totally different.' Peter thought, once again inwardly rolling his eyes.
"And those fine folks have chosen us to cover it!" Jameson declared with pride. "But you won't be going alone." he told Peter. "We've got ourselves a journalist going with you." he then furrowed his brows. "Speaking of, where IS she? She should've been-"
Suddenly, everyone heard the door to the office opening. "So sorry for the delay." a smooth, feminine voice said, immediately gaining everyone's attention. "Traffic was a killer."
The two turned to see a shapely, blonde woman standing in the doorway, one leg in front of the other and a hand on her hip, as if she were presenting herself off for the three men. She wore a black pencil skirt that came to her mid-thigh and a white, button top, a pink neck scarf tied to the side, and pointed, black heels. Her hair was long and smooth, parted to the left, and her eyes were a bright hazel. Her skin was somewhat pale, yet not to the point where she looked ghostly, and appeared to be somewhat chilled but smooth. She surveyed the men, smiling with her painted lips at the attention she was getting. She hadn't been here but a few moments, and already, she was being noticed for the beauty she was. The moment before she had opened the door, Peter felt his spider sense go off, though, to his surprise, it was somewhat subdued. As if alerting him that something was coming, yet it was unsure as to whether or not it was an active danger. It seemed to just register this woman as some sort of anomaly.
"Ah, there you are." Jameson said, acknowledging the woman. "About time too. First day on the job, and you're already late."
Wait, first day? Peter had never seen SEEN this woman before! "As I said, traffic was a killer." the woman answered Jameson. "So sorry, sir." she answered, though her voice was more of a cooing plea than a genuine sorry, as if she were trying to make herself sound 'cute'. Another thing that seemed off about her, Peter thought.
"Yeah, well, don't make me regret my decision on hiring you." the mustached man then turned his attention back to Peter. "Anyway, Parker, this is Kathleen Henderson. Our newest journalist and, for your next job, your partner."
The woman, Kathleen, turned her gaze towards the photographer. "So, THIS is Mr. Peter Parker?" again, his spider sense was going off, yet not entirely. She wasn't dangerous...at least not yet. "Well, I should've listened to what Betty said about you." she drew closer, studying each and every aspect about him, circling him like he was some sort of injured gazelle and she was a lioness on the prowl. It seemed she liked what she had seen. "You ARE quite the looker."
"Oh, uh...thank you?" Peter answered, somewhat put off by the woman's boldness. As well as her gaze.
"Kathleen here is our newest member here at the Bugle and New York as a whole, and I've appointed YOU to be her guide." Peter was about to turn around and protest, yet he didn't get a word in before Jameson began barking more commands. "Now, go on! Skedaddle! That exhibit is only going to be open for a few days, and those photos aren't going to take themselves!"
American Museum of Natural History
The towering structure of the T-Rex skeleton stood in a pose that made it look as if it were roaring and proclaiming its status as king to all that would hear its thundering cry. At least, that was the scenario Peter constructed in his mind. Though it wasn't what he was here for, he immediately took a shot of the display as they waited for the museum docet to come collect them.
"Such a large beast…" Peter heard Kathleen say, seeing her eyes grow wide as she studied the dinosaur bones, approaching it and reaching her hand out. "For such a thing to once reside in a world such as this…" Suddenly, she felt a hand seize her wrist, she looked to see the photographer had stopped her. He then gestured to a plaque on the display.
'DO NOT TOUCH'
"It's something, isn't it?" Peter asked, trying to act casual, yet inwardly, he was nothing short of confused. Just what the hell did she think she was doing? True, there were several tourists and even residents of the city that probably had no respect for the displays and put their hands all over it, yet this adult woman was acting like she had never even seen a dinosaur before, let alone a display of its bones.
"This creature…" Kathleen spoke, eyes taking in each and every detail. "It is a...theropod, yes?" she questioned. Peter was somewhat surprised to hear such a term come from her lips, seeing as he assumed she had no idea what it was. "It is a...Tyrannosaurus, yes?" Peter averted his eyes for a moment before nodding. This whole situation just felt awkward. Hell, just being around this woman felt awkward. His half and half spidey sense was about to drive him crazy! "Ah, good." Kathleen said. "I always get confused as to which is which. All of them look the same to me." it was faint, yet Peter swore he heard her say something else. "No distinctive horns or wings. Compared to the beasts at home, they lack much detail."
"What was that?" Peter asked.
"Oh, nothing!" Kathleen said, waving her hand dismissively.
"Ah, there you are!" another voice called out, Peter and Kathleen looking to see a young woman with her blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail with a pair of round glasses. She was dressed in a black outer and black skirt with black heels with a tag pinned on her that read 'Allison Cartwell'.
'Allison...from the way she looks, I would've thought that she would've been Debra Whitman's missing twin.' Peter thought, chuckling to himself. "Yeah, we're from the Bugle." he explained to the woman, presenting his camera and Kathleen presenting a clipboard and pencil.
"Excellent!" the decot clapped her hands together, bursting with glee at how she was the one to present this new exhibit early. If anything, this was good practice before she had to do the real thing. She just hoped that she wouldn't screw anything up. "Now that you're here, step this way, please…"
A short distance away
Immediately, Peter began snapping photos, impressed and intrigued by the displays before him. And while he hated to admit it, Jameson was sort of right on his description of what was being presented.
Stationed beneath glass containers were ancient, rusted articles of armor and wear, such as aged arrowheads of bronze, the head of an iron spear, bronze rings that were listed to be the ancient currency of the people this exhibit was presenting about, and several other displays had more articles of this peculiar sect that existed long before his time.
"Can I...start?" the decot, Allison, asked, clearly nervous. Peter and Kathleen nodded, the young woman clearing her throat. She only hoped she wouldn't make any mistakes. "Now, what you see here is some examples of the weapons the Celts used during their prime." she explained. "The Celts themselves were first recorded to exist in the seventh or eight century BC, and were essentially a collection of tribes with origins tracing back to that of central Europe." she paused for a moment. "Am I doing ok?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah!" Peter reassured her. "You're doing fine! Just fine!"
"Oh, good." Allison sighed. "I just got this job and, well, it's always sort of been my dream to work at a place like this. So be patient with me, ok?" she then noticed how Kathleen's eyes scanned and surveyed all of the articles before her. "Like what you see? I do too. I was psyched when I heard we were doing something about the Celts." She then led them to the next display, this one presenting stone statues, both busts and humanoid figures, all with partially missing limbs and thus, had to be supported with stands. "These here are some figures that were collected for this particular exhibit." Peter took a few shots. Allison then gestured to one particular set of figures. "These are believed to depict a rider and his steed." she then gestured to another set, these two seeming to be a male and female figure, and while the details were muddled and worn with age, they were clearly meant to be crafted in such a way where their full nudity would be presented for all to see. "Um...are you allowed to put this in the article or no?" Allison asked.
"Uh...maybe not." Peter admitted, not exactly sure how Jameson would react to him taking photos of what were essentially 'naked' statues.
"Yeah, probably not." the decot admitted. "We've got a field trip set up for Midtown Thursday, and, well, you know how high schools can be with things like this."
"Don't I ever." Peter confirmed. He remembered how sex-ed class was a nightmare for the teacher to get through due to there being snide comments every five seconds. He himself didn't make any, yet he'd be lying if he said he didn't chuckle at a good majority of them.
"But anyway," Allison got back on topic. "These are believed to be statues that relate to the worship of their gods and goddesses. Which ones they are is up for speculation, yet here," she grew excited, as if she were about to present to the class her own show and tell. The statue in question was what appeared to be a bird, the size of a crow or raven. "Yet this here, this one we can identify." the woman answered. "This one is believed to be an idol relating to the goddess, Morrigan."
Peter and Kathleen's eyes lit up. Now THAT name, Peter had heard before. Upon needing to fill an elective for his new semester as a senior, he took a course in European history. Though it was a generalized detailing on the history of each country, yet there was a particular section detailing Wales, the Celts being one of them. And while he didn't remember the exact details, there was a listing of some of their more well known gods and goddesses, one of which happened to be Morrigan. "So, why such a specific figure?" Peter asked, taking a snapshot of the bird figure.
"Oh, it's not just this." Allison replied. "There are marks of here everywhere the Celts were." she pointed to a map that had shown the general area in which the Celts inhabited. "And...yeah, I need to go over this part again because of the high schoolers, but there's so much that has been found on her." Allison began to grow excited. "There have been stone stelae with sculpted breasts found at Castelucio de Sauri in the Province of Foggia. Region Aqulia in Italy."
Peter smirked. "You've been reading up a lot, haven't you?"
Allison smiled sheepishly. "Heh, got me. I've been pouring hours into this." she then went on. She was on a roll, so there was no reason to stop now. "Anyway, those findings at Castelucio date back all the way to the Copper Age around three-thousand BC. And it's not just there, sits in Spain, France, Portugal and England has statues, menhirs, and stone slabs that depict her. They range from showing her as a woman to a bird to a combination of both." she then gestured to a picture of some Celtic ruins. "Her breasts were believed to form the hills in County Kerry, or as it's sometimes called, Da Chinch Annan. She is the goddess of war and death, the guardian of the dead. She's been connected to the birds, specifically crows, the Earth itself, and her breasts were believed to not only nourish the living, but also regenerate the dead." Allison stopped for a moment. "How was that?" she was pleased that the two members of her audience seemed attentive.
Suddenly, Kathleen spoke. "Tell me," the blonde, newly hired journalist spoke. "These people...are they still around today?"
Allison and Peter looked at each other. "Uh...what?" Allison was confused. "Well...if you mean people that follow and believe what they believed, then yes." that seemed to really get Kathleen's attention. "Truth is, I got the last part of that speech from a friend of a friend. She's into that New Age stuff. I think she calls herself a Druid or something. She's one of the modern pagans, I think. I don't really know anything about that stuff, so that's why I asked to make sure I got this bit about Morrigan right."
Kathleen bit her lip. 'Father did tell me my namesake came from the ancient peoples…' she thought. 'Well, it seems that he chose well. Unfortunately, I can't reveal myself now. Never been worshiped before. Sounds like fun.'
"Oh, and there's something else, though I'm a little unsure of whether or not to include this in the speech. Again, it's something the friend of my friend said. Something about me taking this job." Allison explained, growing silent for a moment. Seeing as Peter and Kathleen were quiet, she took this as silent permission to continue on. "She said that, when the Morrigan comes into your life, whether through dreams or the sense of feeling something looking over your shoulder, she is calling you. She is a powerful figure, and will be with you during adversity, yet taking her hand requires great commitment. You may be haunted and your life reshaped. You will have nowhere to run from your responsibilities and will be tested. Yet through that, she'll make a warrior out of you. She delves into you and finds the strength and heroic heart you didn't know you had."
Daily Bugle
"Although, be prepared to make such a commitment. For not many can make it through."
Those words echoed through Peter's mind as he handed the photos to Robbie Robertson, the African American man surveying the photos of the various displays the young photographer had taken. Kathleen had handed in her notes to him as well, the two sets needed for the article on the man's desk. "Mm hm. Mm hm…" Robbie hummed, dark eyes traveling over what he was given. "Ah, excellent!" he declared. "Once again, Pete, you deliver!"
"Thanks, Robbie." Peter thanked him. At least someone around here appreciated what he did.
"I'll send this over right away." Both Robbie and Peter noticed how Kathleen went away, they saw her conversing with Betty. "She just winged this, didn't she?" the dark skinned man asked Peter.
"Pretty much." Peter admitted. "Granted, from the bits I saw, she seemed to manage to get most of the important stuff down, but then there's stuff like this." he gestured towards the notes detailing Morrigan, of which were mostly accurate, yet some words had little notes written by them, phrases such as 'That's right!' and 'You better remember it', and they all mainly seemed to be around sections that described how revered the ancient deity was. Not to mention that there were several little hearts drawn everywhere too. It was like she was proud of something, like the article meant something personal to her. Peter looked back to Robbie, having had enough with being quiet about it. He had to ask. "Hey, Robbie, when did she come in for an interview?"
"Around a week ago." Robbie answered. "On your day off." his face then got somewhat suspicious. "Weird thing, that was."
"Weird? Why?" not that this woman wasn't already weird, yet still, Peter was dying to get some answers.
"Well, you know how we had a new position open ever since Carpenter left us?" Peter nodded, anxious to hear where this was going. "Well, as if on cue, the minute we sent out an ad for the position, in comes this Kathleen lady. She didn't call or schedule an interview or anything. She just waltzed right in like she owned the place. Of course, Betty began asking questions as to what she was doing here, and she said how she was here for the position of journalist. Then Jameson comes out wanting to know what's going on. She asks if he's the one in charge and just goes into his office."
'Either she's really brave or really stupid.' Peter thought. As much of a pain Jameson could be at the time, not even he dared to try and approach the head of the Bugle like that.
"Of course, he goes in ranting and raving about what she was doing here and how she couldn't just break in here, and well, I don't think I need to tell you what else. Jameson being Jameson." Robbie said.
"Of course." Peter chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"But this is where it gets weird." Robbie said, then again, it was weird the moment that woman entered the building probably. "They both go in, and then Jameson goes quiet. Like, dead quiet. And we, of course, are wondering what the hell's going on. After a few minutes, I finally get up and check up on him, and just before I knock, here she comes, strolling out like she doesn't have a care in the world. And I remember what she said too."
'Thank you for the job, Mr. Jameson! You won't regret this!'
"And then he comes out, and he looks all...strange."
Peter was looking out as to whether or not Kathleen was coming over. Thankfully, she was still conversing with Betty. "Strange how?"
Robbie rested his finger and thumb on his chin. "I don't know. He could talk and everything, but they way he did it and how he looked. He just didn't look all there, you know?" Peter continued to listen, absorbing each and every detail he was hearing. "All he says is that we got ourselves a new member of the Beugle, and then after a few minutes, he returns to normal like nothing happened."
"Nothing?" Peter inquired.
"Well, yeah, he said his head felt fuzzy and he lost some track of time, but aside from that, he was the good ol' Jameson we know. All that changed was that this Kathleen had been hired up on the spot."
Now even Peter was beginning to question the legitimacy of this story, despite Robbie being one of the most honest people he knew. "Really? No 'I'll call you back' contacting references on her resume? Nothing?"
"I don't know about all that, but from what I understand, she went in there with him fuming and came out with him seemingly wrapped around her finger." Robbie said. "I'm not saying I don't believe miracles, but things like that...they just don't happen. Not unless you've got some sort of magic on your side."
Magic...Peter pondered that. True, it sounded somewhat ridiculous, yet then again, men such as Dr. Strange existed. And his spider sense was still on and off about this woman as a whole. Robbie's tale about how she came to be employed at the Bugle just only added to the overall oddity that was Kathleen Henderson.
"And what are you boys up to?" they heard a feminine voice ask, Peter and Robbie collecting themselves and making themselves appear discrete.
"Nothing." Peter explained. "Just going over the photos from the museum."
"Yeah." Robbie added with a nod. "Got some good ones here."
"And I trust you'll be making use of my notes too, yes?" Kathleen asked, flirtatiously fluttering her lashes.
Suddenly, Robbie grew stiff. Peter's sense was going off, and though it was just for the briefest of seconds, he could've swore that Kathleen's eyes began to change color. A hue of magenta covered her iris, a glowing dot in the center of her pupil. But again, it was all but for a second or two. Robbie appeared transfixed for a moment, the glow and hue also appearing in his eyes, yet soon, they returned to normal. "Yes, of course, Kathleen." he said calmly. "Your notes are spectacular. Jameson made a good decision hiring you."
"Oh, Rob, you're too kind!" Kathleen said. Then, she turned her eyes to Peter. "Say," she began. "I'm kinda new here, and don't really know my way around. So...I was thinking that maybe, if you're up for it, you and me perhaps go get some coffee?"
Peter was taken aback by her forwardness. "Oh, well…" he then paused, noticing how her eyes began to change again. 'There it is again!' he saw the light emit from her pupil, he soon found the prospect of taking her out rather alluring. Again, his spider sense was debating on whether or not this was considered dangerous, yet he found even that was beginning to be subdued. He had to act fast, he felt his general line of thinking was being tampered with, and no one around him seemed to notice! Steeling himself, Peter cleared his throat. "Sure."
The glow disappeared from Kathleen's eyes, she was seemingly surprised by his answer. "You will? Oh, I mean, you will?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure." Peter answered. "I mean, you ARE new here, right? You'll need someone to show you around and all."
"Aw, you're wonderful, Peter!" the blonde woman said happily. "Ok, the moment we get off, it's a date!"
"Date? Uh, no. I just mean-"
"It's ok. No need to be shy." Kathleen winked. "I'll be waiting for it with bated breath." with that, she went off, leaving the photographer and Robbie alone.
'That woman…she needs to be watched.' Peter thought, watching her go. 'Looks like Spidey's got yet another thing to add to his list of things to do.'