This is not a wilderness. This is a police station, all gray walls and floors and desks and chairs.

There are case files and bulletin boards and the fading smell of coffee, and there's a man on the floor in a sheriff's uniform.

There is also a woman, fear and desperation and anger on her face.

She is standing inside a jail cell and seems nervous.

This could be connected to the gun pointed at her face.

 Anyone's guess, really.

There is now a large object, flying motorcycle really, floating in the middle of the room, with her on top.

Stop. Shield on a hair trigger. Study the situation. No Neuroi. Okay, good.

A bunch of hostile people, one armed (the gun is an unfamiliar sort but the overall shape is unmistakable), but a man and therefore not a Witch and not too terrible a threat. Okay.

Shield imposed between the gun and its target, a glowing blue circle full of faint patterns. An instant later sharply applied telekinesis causing shear stresses in unfortunate parts of its wielder's hand, unless they let go. Her hand on her sword.

"Okay what the hell did I accidentally teleport into."

A boy from a nearby room bursts out.

"Can you disarm him?"

Consider the gun dropped.

The sudden sound of hissing and growling may be slightly more concerning.

There's the source!

What a fascinating creature.

The way it moves...well, don't get too close. Study it from a distance.

Consider the gun flying over to her hands. Not having time to examine it, she sticks it into an empty holster on her vehicle. She repositions her so as to have everyone in clear view. "I am a witch and I am not afraid to put you down hard if you initiate violence even more than violence is clearly already fucking initiated, one at a time please, what is going on."

"...Am I having a stroke," mumbles random lady.

"The lizard monster can paralyze with its tail. Don't kill it, just stun. Sharp claws and fangs, please help however witches can."

The lizard monster springs into the air, trying to sink its claws into Grendyne.

It slams into a suddenly appearing shield. And then floats there with visible effort from Gren. "I don't have many nonlethal options, to be honest. Don't think I can force this transformation off either. Think he can take a mild lightning bolt and just be out of sorts instead of dead? Also who are all you people?"

Meanwhile ropes of light bind the tail and limbs down, soon to be backed up by physical ropes she draws out from a compartment.

"The guy with the gun is Matt. He was controlling the guy who's a lizard. The others are innocent bystanders. That's my mom, who deserves an explanation for all this. And that's the sheriff, who will probably need one if he's not arresting me tonight. In the next room there are two people who got injected with venom, if you have anything for temporary paralysis that would be appreciated. I'm Scott."

"He doesn't have his gun anymore." Pat pat. "I've got a heal but it does jack all against poison and disease, better at trauma. Lizard guy, can you talk?"

Deep breath. "I don't want to kill anyone. Every life is precious and all that, especially if you're not entirely in control of yourself. Especially especially if you were transformed against your will. That's just terrible. But... You're also dangerous. Godammit, I hate these kinds of situations."

"The lizard will change back, eventually, if Matt isn't controlling him actively. Knocking him out is easy if you'll just hold him still."

"Now, hold on just a minute-"

"Scott, what's going on? How do you know so much about this-this shooter, and that thing! I don't understand."

"Later, I promise. First we have to resolve this."

"So does anyone care about the part where I'm turning into a kanima, hence why I need your bestiary and honestly why can't you keep those things in the public library, how important is secrecy to you people!"

"You know what I'm probably further from home than I thought." Rope starts going around the lizard, slightly looser than before. No need to be unnecessarily mean. "But if a stinking book can make progress on whatever grievances you lot have I have to agree on the library thing. For what it's worth you do have the same sort of magic on you as this guy. It's still loose enough I might even be able to do something to it. Maybe. Not while I'm the only thing preventing stabbing and shooting."

"Maybe later. Can you tie up his master while I work on getting the book?"

"Yeah I'm really hesitant to do much of anything other than preventing immediate bloodshed that explicitly favors one party in this situation. I literally popped out of the blue and I don't think you have my kind of witches here or you'd have reacted differently. While I can guess who's in the right it's hard to take everything at face value. You're a sheriff, yeah? Sworn officer of the law and all that. Or maybe if anyone here can explain why a bestiary is necessary."

"I'm a sheriff. I also don't know a thing about all the magic that's going on here."

"I shouldn't have to leave the building to get the book here, and as long as we get him the book he probably won't try anything else. Right Matt?"

"Of course not."

"Okay. Do you mind if I make a call to the people who have the bestiary, uh, witch lady?"

"Uh huh. Alright, book, off you go. Sheriff, my apologies for not turning over the weapon quite yet."

She peers at Matt, trying to sort of... Poke around the edges of the weird magic.

"No, no, I don't understand any of what's going on here and you obviously have the power to handle it until I get my bearings. I hope you'll defer to me as the local authority when I do."

"Scott, after your phone call, we should talk."

"Okay. I'm going to call the hunters."

And he does. It looks like a tense conversation.

It might degrade her tentative authority over the situation to ask 'What's a phone?'. So she doesn't. She does take a closer look around the room though.

The room resembles most bureaucratic systems. Lots of paperwork and documentation of ongoing criminal cases and unsolved murders. 

There are a lot of unsolved murders in this town, and they cover bulletin boards throughout the room.

There are desks for various deputies and the sheriff's office near the back of the room, furthest from the door.

Most of the action is taking place in the main work space, though the woman is in a cell in a nearby room.

Aaaand now lizard thing is done being tied up by multiple passes of thick, waxy rope in a way that should be rather constraining but not quite as actively uncomfortable as before. She lets the golden bands disappear and lowers him to the floor. "So can you talk? And can you answer questions with nods and shakes?"

It tilts its head as though able to hear her but not understand her. 

The conversation on the phone is getting a bit heated now.

This is getting old fast. "Phone guy, don't start another fight okay? Who are you even talking to?"

He mouths 'Hold on' and holds up a hand as a signal to wait. "No. She called herself a witch...I didn't bring her here, I don't have any magic. Please, it doesn't matter who brings the book...okay, we'll be waiting."

She taps her metal flying thing with her fingernails impatiently.

To the woman in the cell, "Ma'am, are you in there for a sensible reason or just because of the guy who had the gun?"

...That smell. That, over there, is a pot of coffee. Cold, which is almost blasphemous, but she could use the caffeine. "And is anybody going to do something stupid if I stop paying attention for the ten seconds I need to pour a cup of coffee?"

"Because of the guy with the gun. You can ask the sheriff or check case files if you want to be careful, though. It's not that uncomfortable to be in one of these for less than an hour."

"I don't think anyone should mind," he says, putting away his phone. 

"Now I'm not claiming any kind of official authority here, I'm probably very lost too, I'm just saying I'm probably the reason nobody's been shot by now and I plan to continue serving in this capacity." She gets a cup of coffee, black, and drinks it very fast.

"We appreciate that," the sheriff says, unlocking the cell door. 

"As much as this crisis situation was apparently way over my head, I do think I'll need to be a mediator between, uh, magical teenagers and foreign witches and the rest of the world." 

"How does the witch thing work, exactly? Are you a species, is that a job, is this too personal to ask?"

"Subspecies, by most definitions. Sometimes perfectly ordinary little girls turn out to have magic when they become teenagers. We're pretty common, hence my assuming I've managed to get teleported to an alternate world or something."

"Scott, maybe you should explain the part where you know about magic, which exists."

"I'll explain everything when we get home. I've been staying safe."

"Do you have any idea how you got here? Is teleportation common among witches?"

"I was heading off to fight a monster, our teleporter sent me here instead. Without the rest of them. I hope they're safe."

She shakes her head.

"Teleportation is not common. I know one teleporter personally, and I know of less than ten total. If I guessed I'd say there's two hundred teleporters the world over, tops."

"If you need somewhere to stay, or food to eat, we'll all help. 

"That discussion can wait until nobody's going to be at each others' throats if I walk away, I think."

"Yeah, the supernatural politics is really mind-numbing around here."

"Whatever you say, gunman." The adrenaline rush is leaving her. Good thing coffee is available to replace it as they wait for whoever is coming to arrive. Sip, sip.

The wait isn't that long.

A man with a rifle comes in.

"Well, looks like the main threat has been handled. Victoria?"

A woman silently and slowly brings the book to Gren.

"No, he's the one who wanted it. I'd like to know what's going on too but mostly I just want nobody to fucking shoot each other." And, yes, she's watching that gun carefully.

The man certainly has good trigger discipline.

If he shoots anyone, she can be sure it won't be an accident.

"I'm sure. We're all sensible people here, there won't be any need for violence."

"Matt, can you even read French? I think you'll have to do the translating, Mr. Argent."

"Alright. I guess he wants to hear about kanimas?"

Flip, flip, flip.

If he shoots anyone, he's likely to find a shield between the gun and its target.

Tense telekinetic coffee drinking.

"The kanima, an instrument of justice, follows its master. The first kanima was created when a South American priest rid his village of murderers. The bond between the two grew stronger, and their will became one. The kanima finds those the master thinks unworthy, and strikes. The kanima can only return to human form when it resolves its past issues."

"...Nothing in there about the master becoming a kanima?"

"Your alpha might know. Ask him." 

"I'll have to research this without you. Thanks for bringing the book."

"Kanima was created by a revenge quest. You sir, who are afraid of turning into one yourself, have you perhaps been taking revenge a bit too far?"

"...It wanted to kill people who deserved it. I gave it deserving targets. There was one it wouldn't kill itself. So I did it."

He wrings his hands, looking away from her. 

"...Yeah, I can see a link to emotion in that mess. Lovely. How noble of you."

Ugh.

"Judge, jury, and executioner should never be one person barring extreme emergency circumstances such as this one. Past issues, huh?"

She shakes her head and points at the tied-up kamina. "You guys have any clues for him? I don't think he's really awake in there right now. Can't answer questions."

"He really wanted to be a werewolf because he likes to win. Maybe he needs to let go of that?"

"The kind of all-consuming emotion that's bouncing around in there doesn't come from friendly competitiveness. Worth a shot, maybe..."

"Jackson, we need you on the team. Coach says we haven't been the same without you, and you know how valuable you are. Everyone at school wants to be cheering us to victory, but we can't do it without our captain."

The kanima listens, but nothing happens.

"...Any other personal drama that could be doing this? Violent desires, hopelessness."

"Violent desires, maybe, I guess he can be kind of aggressive? He found out he was adopted, that could be a past issue he has to work out. He dumped his girlfriend but they were together at least a year?"

She winces. "He lost two strong personal connections. Finding out you're adopted is not easy. I had a friend who dealt with that."

"Okay. Should I try to get his parents or his girlfriend to talk to him? Neither of them know about the supernatural, most humans don't."

"You are not blowing open this secret because some boy has unresolved feelings. You would endanger every innocent person out there."

 "I'm a foreigner, remember. Why would it endanger people to know?"

"If people find out about these creatures, some of the infirm and the ambitious think becoming a werewolf will give them what they want. Then comes the violent urges, the lack of control, the horrific transformation, and the call of their alpha. They endanger themselves and their former friends. Others who learn about the things that go bump in the night try to fight them before we can prepare them. They die. If there had ever been a hunter with the authority or the charisma to go public, we would have."

"I don't know how you're evaluating the risks, here, but I know the last five times I heard a 'for the good of the many' argument they turned out to be misguided at best. A Kamina is a far, far cry from a Neuroi. Could these parents and girlfriend be said to be sensible, that they'd know a bad idea when they see it?"

"I've never met his parents. Lydia is sensible, but she's also vain and ambitious and recently she had a fugue state or something, I don't know if she's stable right now."

"I think it seems worth talking to her, if things get violent I am capable of dealing with that."

"What do you plan to do with us?"

"Does anyone think I shouldn't arrest that young man? If not, I should work on that first."

"I'll drive us to Lydia's, unless you can fly?"

"I can fly. I can't take five passengers. I'm not going to do anything in particular to anyone beyond doing my best to stop bloodshed."

"I object to being arrested."

"Duly noted."

He handcuffs him and puts him a cell.

"If something isn't keeping the kanima down, Matt might be able to break out with it. Can you make it invisible and take it with you? It's heavy, but not more than two people."

"That'll be fun, tired as I am. Just a few minutes right?"

"I can probably carry the kanima to the Jeep if it's invisible, and the drive should only be ten minutes."

"Sounds good unless you have an amendment to the plan, book-owners?"

"If nobody minds, I think I'm going to go home. Scott, we'll talk when you get back."

"I'll stay back and try to write this up so I don't sound completely insane."

"We have our own car. We'll be right behind you."

And he and his wife head outside.

"Good luck with that, Sheriff."

The Kamina is now invisible except for a few dots of green to make sure nobody trips over it.

The kanima gets into the car without much fuss.

Scott calls Lydia.

"Lydia? Yeah, me and Allison's parents want to drop by and talk to you about Jackson...yeah, there's a reason for that...no, but it's something you might be able to help with. It's not your responsibility, I know the breakup was bad, but he's going through some stuff and you might want to know more about what's going on. Can we come over? Okay, thanks Lydia."

He sits down, and they drive to her house.

Gren is not aware of this conversation. She follows the... Horseless carriages.

There is a frustrated girl standing outside a large suburban home.

She taps her foot impatiently as Scott pulls up to the curb.

Scott gets out, but leaves the kanima inside for now.

"Hey, Lydia. We'll explain everything in a minute, just don't freak out."

Argents flank Scott, one to his right, and the other to his left.

"She's going to land now. The flying witch."

"Sure. Let's see this witch, then."

Well, that's her cue. Swoop down. "Good afternoon."

"Okay. So there's the witch. Hi. I'm Lydia Martin, I hope they haven't biased you against our town already."

"I am trying to keep an open mind and everyone's arteries closed. Has he explained things to you at least in as rushed a way as to me?"

"He barely explained that he was coming here. Scott?"

"Magic is real. But her kind of magic isn't local. Sometimes, ours makes people change into stuff. Like werewolves. I turned into one a while back; you can probably guess when."

"So Jackson was right. You were enhancing your performance. I mostly dismissed it as jealousy."

"Jackson recently started to turn into something too, but not a werewolf. He's a lizard thing. He's in the Jeep."

"When will he change back?"

"He can't control it, and it's dangerous. He needs to resolve his issues so he can change back."

"So it was me or his parents and you thought I'd handle it better," she summarizes.

"I would like to note that I only know what I've been told about this world. Well probably run into culture differences sooner or later."

"Noted. Scott, what do you think I can do here, exactly?"

"Try talking to him, tell him that you understand why he broke up with you-or that you want to understand, and he should explain to you what went wrong. Maybe talk him through his feelings about adoption?"

"I don't really know how it feels to find out you're adopted. Complicated, but not enough to turn you into a lizard monster."

"The problem seems to me to be about love. A lack of it."

"Okay. Can I see him?"

And Scott brings him out, placing him on the ground.

"Jackson. I love you, and when you gave me back the key, it hurt. If you had told me what was going on, maybe I could have helped. So here I am, helping. I know it was hard, hearing how you did, but your parents chose you. My mother loves me, but she couldn't be sure she would like me. But your parents selected you over everyone else. You were chosen by them, and by me, if you think that means you're alone or unloved, we'll prove you wrong.

Gren is definitely not forbidding herself from falling asleep after a long day. Nope.

"Jackson, I've never met you properly but I still found lots of people who care, who want you to be happy, to help, even when it's hard. Please listen to them."

Inspired, Lydia places both hands on the kanima's face.

She can't quite pull off a sob, but anger at the unfairness of the world isn't hard.

Her boyfriend dumped her and became a lizard and she's going insane.

"Please, Jackson, we need you to come back."

And Jackson...

...comes back.

...Gren is just going to wait until he calms down a little bit more before untying him, yeah.

It doesn't take very long.

He looks around nervously when he realizes his situation.

"McCall, what did you do?"

"You're welcome. You should also thank Lydia and...uh, sorry, I don't think I asked your name, foreign witch, ma'am?"

"You turned into a kamina, and then back. And now that nobody is about to hurt anybody, as far as I can tell, I can properly freak out about the - wherever I am. Sheesh, what a day. I'm Grendyne Nylund, and my rank really doesn't matter, the organization I have it in doesn't seem to exist here."

"I'm glad you're okay, honey."

"Right. I'm going to go home and someone is going to explain to me how I got here tomorrow. And I'm not your 'honey'."

"...Lydia, do you need anything? Otherwise I should find somewhere for Grendyne to stay, and talk to the sheriff."

"I have a guest room, and this is too little notice for a hotel. If that's alright with you, Grendyne."

"Call me Gren. And I really don't care where I sleep as long as it's soon, I'm running on grit and coffee right now."

"Well, we're outside my house, so I'll just let you collapse inside. Good night, Scott."

"Okay. Good night, Gren."

Scott drives off, and Lydia leads Gren inside.

The house is fairly unremarkable: a fridge, an oven, a couch, some TVs, a laptop, and stairs, which they can take to the guest bedroom.

"The bathroom is just across the hall. Do you want to look at it to make sure nothing is too different?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry about that whole scene, if you think I ought to be. It seemed to be the only path that didn't lead to blood."

"I'm sure you handled it the best you could with what you knew."

She shows her the bathroom. It has the expected bathroom things.

Sink, towels, toilet, a bathtub and a shower.

Sarcasm, how nice.

They're strange ones, but plumbing is in fact a thing she's experienced. "Familiar enough. Thank you very much."

"Rest well. Don't worry if I scream, it's just nightmares."

"...D'you want a quick blast of healing? It's more for aches and pains and physical trauma, but it touches 'wellness' pretty well and can help account for bad sleep."

"If you think it'll help. I've been...stressed out lately."

"Don't mind the aura. It's a side effect I haven't been able to fully get rid of."

Gren takes a deep breath and-

For a moment she is prettier than she has any right to be despite the dirt and grime and circles under her eyes. Not obviously supernaturally so, it looks like something in the way she holds herself, but clearly there is magic at work.

And Lydia's aches and pains wither with a slight prickling sensation. She only keeps it up for a few seconds before letting out a shaky breath. "Yeah, sleep now."

"Thank you. Sleep well."

"You too."

She goes to the bathroom and has a drink and takes off her coat but doesn't bother with the rest of the uniform and sleeps like a log.

If Gren doesn't wake up by noon, there's a knock at her door. 

She's awake by then. Ate a snack from her coat pocket, showered and cleaned the uniform as much as a little magic would allow, too.

But still sort of sitting there, fretting about her team.

"Hello?"

"Good morning! I don't know what you have planned tonight, but I'm hosting my birthday party here, in a few hours. Mostly other high school students, so they'll all be around 16 or 17. You're welcome to attend, but if not we should find something for your to do. You can stay here again tonight, and I can help you make other arrangements tomorrow."

"I had been considering building a lean-to in the woods and hunting squirrels if nobody would take me. Not that far off from how I grew up. But hospitality and a real room is obviously better, thanks."

"Not sure what to do, but probably not the party, no offense. I'm used to a certain kind of teenager... If I had a way to reverse teleportation I'd do it but that is not among my list. Guess I can look for stuff a Witch could be handy for? Or try to read about all the neat technology you guys have. I was mostly in combat mode or half-asleep yesterday, but, what, wireless telephones and horseless carriages at minimum."

"Do you have computers? That might be the most useful thing we can provide. "Horseless carriages" we usually call cars, motor vehicles, or automobiles, though the specific term varies by region and how formal you're trying to be. They do help individuals or small groups travel, but they can have consequences on the environment that might be a problem if you can't mitigate them."

"I didn't tell anyone yet, I think, but we are in the middle of a global war against - aliens or demons or whatever the hell Neuroi actually are." She makes an illusion of a house-sized one with a flying Witch for scale. "That guy's about average. Blew up two fishing boats and a bridge before we killed it. Now I really hope someone comes looking for me and we can bring back tech. Wireless telephones will be excellent, no more getting lost in the fog or mixed-up scout reports from couriers. What are computers like?"

"Computers are a kind of technology that uses math to do increasingly complex tasks. I am not the best person to explain and you are probably not the best person to learn how to make them- I'm sure you're intelligent, but I doubt we got your world's greatest engineering mind at random, and my interest lies in pure math, not anywhere else. I can teach you how to use one, if you're stuck here long enough, and I can easily spend the next hour demonstrating important features. The Internet, which is how computers network and share information, is probably the most useful export we have."

"You're right, I'm not an engineer. I'll gladly take you up on that offer for a tutorial- Is there anything you'd like in return? Heal aura is actually pretty wasteful for just one person, it's an energy-expensive magic and I can't target it, but I can do other stuff."

"Maybe an overview of what you can do while I get my laptop?"

She starts walking to her room.

"I can fly, carry things, temporary shields, blow things up, my special ability is copying other magic and I have a whole lot of stuff memorized, but I think it's better at other Witches' magic, I could barely touch the kamina and werewolves stuff. Oh, I should dispose of my weapons in the woods today, before they get unstable."

"Hmm. Nothing that immediately solves any global problems, and revealing you to Beacon Hills could easily be a mess, since you're just one person and can probably only help with rescuing individuals. The next step if you're stuck here, or if it takes a while for your organization to find you, is probably to ask Scott if anyone in town knows about other magic that you could try to copy."

Inside Lydia's room, there are bulletin boards covered in inspirational quotes: Sun Tzu, Hillary Clinton, and Lucille Ball. The names might not be familiar, but it's not hard to gauge the tenor of them after reading a few.

The walls are purple, and there are butterfly outlines above her bed.

She has her laptop on her desk, and shows Gren how to use a search engine.

It may become clear that Gren's literacy could be called 'shaky' by someone uncharitable. But she really likes search engines, much faster than asking a librarian!

If asked about librarians, Lydia would say that they do have the advantage of being people, if you want help with research. But for speed, a search engine is the way to go.

After demonstrating basic search, she takes them to Wikipedia.

"This is a wonderful resource for preliminary research, though you should usually check the sources down here, at the bottom. It's possible that depending on how interworld travel works, you can start using our Internet as soon as you build the right infrastructure. Teleportation wouldn't do it, but maybe you-that is, witches- can do standing portals?"

"Ah, no, almost nothing is permanently magical except curses and geases."

"Well. The Internet might not be so immediate, but it's not the only thing our world has. There are powerful weapons here, some of them may be effective against Neuroi. I think the next steps, in order, would be to talk to Scott about any local magicians or witches or whatever he knows about, and then to work on revealing enough to the right authorities that they'll share technology with another world. The second will be difficult, time-consuming, and possibly intractable. Any advice you have on handling a government would be great, I am only turning seventeen today."

"Seventeen doesn't sound all that young to me, huh. I'm a soldier before much else so I hope it's not surprising I'm eager about the weapons. If I get rescued there will be trained diplomats coming along soon enough so the best thing for me to do is write a thorough briefing for them, or possibly study government and technology so I can serve as an adviser. The two biggest things I've learned about handling governments are 'be patient' and 'know who to talk to to make things move'. The second tidbit doesn't really help immediately, I admit."

"Like I said, any advice. Here, before eighteen you only have limited control over your circumstances and decision-making. Parents are given a lot of rights and responsibilities, and I don't think we'll be served going into the law there, just keep it in mind as a background cultural assumption. As for dealing with governments, that can wait until after we talk to Scott and after my birthday party."

She calls Scott.

"Alright, he gave me the address. How much of an imposition is it if you fly me there?"

"Not very. If you want us to be invisible at the time, somewhat more but certainly doable." Type type. She's looking up 'warfare technology'.

"Invisibility shouldn't be necessary if we go up high enough; how securely can you carry a passenger?"

"The 'wing is actually designed for an optional passenger. Maximum flexibility without sacrificing too much of any one aspect. There's straps and handles and I have some pretty potent telekinesis to catch you if you manage to throw yourself out of it somehow."

"Do you have airplanes? Flying in a large 'carriage' is not at all the same as individual flight, I except."

"We do not have airplanes. We do know that human-tolerable flight ceiling is about five to ten kilometers without prolonged adjustment period, or potential health complications. Not just because of the cold, air's thinner or something."

"It is thinner! We can talk about that too, but maybe not while you're flying. I think four miles should be good if we move fast."

"Okay. Do you have a flight coat, though, it'll be pretty chilly. It's inconvenient that magic is secret. I could just advertise for work."

"Well, magic doesn't have to stay secret. I can bring a coat, but not one designed for flying, is that alright?"

"Perfectly fine. Ours are thick leather and wool, because we're stationed up north and it helps deal with snow and rain. And if necessary I can do heat and fire."

"I'm getting the impression from the Internet and things people have said that love and, uh, probably also related things are treated a lot less seriously here than I'm used to. I'm not Catholic or I'd have felt obliged to rant about sinfulness by now but. Think you can predict any more surprises I'll have to deal with?"

"...Depends on how long you stay. All of our wars are fought against other humans in other countries across the sea, so while war is the default assumption, it's also distant and abstract. The Internet is so ubiquitous that many people make friends there, and there's also online dating. Dating is a casual relationship that may or may not precede an engagement or marriage."

"Stranger in a strange land, heh. The war is all too immediate to us."

She shakes her head. "No need for me to be so depressing. Want to go now?"

"I'm game."

She puts on a coat. It probably won't keep her very warm, but it's not nothing.

Her... Steelwing looks like a motorcycle jointly designed by the Army Corps of Engineers and Metallica, then stripped of its wheels and engines. There's a reasonably padded seat with a sort of harness thing, and convenient handles, as described.

Gren explains how to slip in and tighten the straps. It's not hard.

"Did witches ever use broomsticks?"

She learns quickly enough, and manages to settle in gracefully.

"We did, once. It's still the classic, you see 'racing brooms' so far from the concept of broomness they would be useless for actually sweeping but still have the branches-and-twigs aesthetic... But it turns out that brooms are actually really terrible difficult and unstable flying tools. I even know some of the physics behind why!"

"Magic that makes sense! There probably won't be much of that here."

And they're off. Lydia directs her. 

"Alas." Has Lydia ever ridden a motorcycle? Been on a roller coaster? It's kind of like either of those. More like the roller coaster except for the fact that Gren flies levelly once they're at height.

And yeah, it's pretty chilly.

Lydia enjoys herself, despite the cold. 

She was warned, and it's still worth it. 

They land outside a small building, with a convenient sign identifying it as a veterinary clinic.

"Remind me to return the gun to the sheriff. Forgot to, yesterday. And dispose of my bombs in the woods - don't need 'em if there's no Neuroi to fight."

"Are they very sensitive? We can do that after we talk to Scott and his mysterious friend."

"I've never had one blow up on me, I don't know the statistics but it's not never and it's not perilously often. They do get worse if you let them sit for more than a couple of days though." She follows her into the building.

"Hey. Dr. Deaton should be here in a bit, he's just picking up some books and some herbs."

"Hm. All our stuff is very direct. No potions or anything."

"I don't know everything he can do, but he can make protective barriers that specifically keep out supernatural creatures. We can find out if witches count, and if not, you can make them around cities."

"Could be useful! Unless supernatural creatures are already in, or they can break somehow?"

"They don't keep anything out, they stop it from crossing. You can contain things too. But if you make it to stop invasion by Neuroi, it wouldn't stop one that's already within the barrier."

"Hm. I want to see it done before I decide if it can maybe stop Neuroi."

"This clinic is lined with mountain ash. Not as powerful as pure, crushed powder but still effective. Supernatural creatures like me can enter, but not use our powers. I'm sure he'll show you a real circle, though."

Fwoosh. Illusion-flame. "No, I can still use mine. I couldn't feel it at all, still can't, I think it's something fundamentally different."

"You think the magic is too different, or that it counts you as a human?"

"Both, I think. I'd be able to feel something if it were interacting with me at all."

"If it's both, I don't think it should work against your monsters."

"Maybe you should introduce us to your friend, since he actually knows magic."

"He'll be here any minute. I'll just wait in the back, then."

"Might try it just in case but I really don't think it'll work." Nope, not commenting on the interpersonal stuff.

"Magic is real, Lydia! Your boyfriend dumped you to become a lizard, Lydia! We always tell you about important things that affect you, Lydia!"

She shakes her head and looks out the glass door impatiently for the doctor.

"I'm sorry if we can't help you with your problem. That's life."

"Oh, I know. Easy solution is way too much to ask for. We've been looking for one for twenty years... He does seem, uninformative. Would you like me to run through what happened yesterday? Don't know how useful my perspective will be but I don't think you know much of it yet. Going by the general trend of informativeness."

"That would be a big help, yes. If you don't mind."

So she runs through everything since the teleport gone wrong, brisk and sharp and clinical, as if she was reporting it to her commanding officer.

Lydia appreciates that! Gren knows how to treat a lady, unlike some people.

Scott returns to the front of the office.

"He's here. Just parked outside."

Gren walks over and introduces herself politely. Still in the rather eye-catching uniform, so it should be reasonably obvious who she is anyway.

The doctor welcomes her to his office, of course.

"Scott has told me a little about you."

"You were looking for a more complete explanation of what kind of magic our world has?"

"Yes. The idea was that, since I can copy my world's sort of magic, I might be able to do the same here and put it to some useful end. I can't feel the barrier here, though, so that's unpromising."

"Does your copying magic normally restrict itself to people? The power of mountain ash comes from the tree and its crushed forms, not from its users, though intent is involved in creating a true barrier."

"It's imperfect in either case, but I can usually feel and copy both personal and non-personal magic from my homeland. I can't feel the ash barrier at all."

"I assume you've tried feeling out the kanima's magic, and possibly Scott's, since you were so abruptly dropped into a tense situation."

"The overall impression was 'big, tangled, confused mess'. I could probably pull out one or two features, strength or senses, given a few hours to stare at one."

"There are a lot of things I don't like to advertise to the general public, and one of them is my past with the supernatural. This town has been quiet for nearly a decade, and I didn't want to stir the pot. That's less of a concern every day, and you don't seem like the type to broadcast personal business, so I'll stick to the professional. The type of magic native to our world was used by figures we refer to historically as 'druids'. The actual facts are complicated, but what matters to you is that werewolves, kanimas, and most creatures out there, are their doing. Our doing, though I am not nearly old enough to take credit or blame for that."

"You've never been very specific about why you know so much. What happened that made you stop being a druid?"

"One does not stop being a druid. The responsibility I took on is still waiting. Helping you and your friends is just a perk of the job."

"So druids are the source of all magic here, more or less?"

"Nearly all modern magic is the result of druids, though most current druids didn't contribute at all to the current system. There are a few exceptions, but I've mostly heard rumors. Kitsunes, I believe, are somewhat independent, and there are other creatures that, if they exist, can't be explained as part of this system."

"I'm not really feeling any active magic off of you, either. It's a sort of synesthesia, but now that I'm thinking about it I'm not sure I'm not just making myself think I see it."

"Quite likely. The magic I use comes from plants, stones, and other natural forces, not from anything permanently attached to me. Werewolves and wendigos, meanwhile, have ongoing effects from long-dead druids."

"Hm." She summarizes her abilities, including the most frequently-used copied magics: Elemental manipulation and various violent attacks, 'hard light', various kinds of tracking and telekinesis, whisper spell, teleporting small objects short distances, guiding projectiles, invisibility and a don't-pay-attention-to-me thing, telekinesis, a very crude and awkward empathy, and a similarly crude and awkward healing effect. "Any of that sound handy for anything around here?"

"The best place for you might be convincing neighboring packs to treat with Beacon Hills. I'll have to gather a local pack sooner than I planned, though."

"I am not a diplomat. I'm not trained for it, I'm not temperamentally inclined for it. If it's really the best option, I appreciate bringing it up, but keep that in mind. And if you still think that's the best option, I need someone to arrange some kind of pay or reward, I can't just live on charity forever."

"They won't respond to anything as gentle as diplomacy, but point taken. Beacon Hills, unlike other towns, might look aside if you were interested in using your abilities to rescue people. Evacuating buildings, averting more predictable crises, and possibly helping me figure out how deal with the mess that's been made of supernatural creatures by my predecessors. Pay would be unofficially for your work as a witch; officially you'd have to be employed by me, at the clinic."

Lydia leans against a wall, looking around the room.

"Grendyne the witch, veterinarian's assistant. That's a new one. No long-term contract, right? Even though I can't reasonably attempt to return to my post, I'm not supposed to sign contracts obliging me to anything until my enlistment's up."

"No, no. I'll handle the pay, you handle the helping people. Your magic that hides you from awareness, do you think you could use that to steal books? Hunters tend to collect bestiaries and written lore more easily than druids, since they kill those who own them more often than we do. I can't see why that knowledge should be hoarded."

"Hm, I can see borrowing and photocopying, not sure outright theft is necessary."

"If you expect returning them to be as easy, it might be worth it. It also might leave people who aim to kill with the knowledge to do so. Taking books away from hunters could simplify supernatural politics a great deal."

"Yeah, well my nickname is copycat, not cat burglar. I'm used to being a hero and having a clearly defined monstrous inhuman enemy that nobody can even try to negotiate with because they don't talk, with no qualms about doing whatever to them. Maybe I'll get over it."

"All of our monsters are human. Sorry to disappoint. Anyway, classic heroics are available. I'll officially put you on the payroll and we can set it up."

"In absence of a better idea, 'classic heroics' and studying technology is a good plan. Thanks!"

"Alright. I'll get started on logistics. Tomorrow I'll give you a primer on the specific creatures that might threaten you and the town, in order of likelihood that they'll come here. Scott, you should be there for this. Bring Stiles and anyone else who could use the knowledge. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Nylund."

"I hope we work together well, Mr. Deaton. Any better ideas for where to dispose of weapons than in the forest somewhere?"

"What kind of weapons? Some can just be melted or burned and their material used for something else. Others will be more delicate."

"The most pressing ones are black powder bombs, mercury fulminate impact fuses. I was planning to set them off in the middle of nowhere since they get unstable a couple of days after priming."

"I'll find a nice bit of nowhere. I imagine flying will be faster than driving, so I'll let you handle transportation, but I'll get you a location by tonight. Anything else urgent?"

"I don't think so."

And with a few pleasantries, Gren and Lydia are ushered away. 

Dr. Deaton and Scott get back to their work. 

"So the local magical vet is hiring you as a superhero," Lydia summarizes. 

"Hey, if it pays. My life so far hasn't been exactly normal by my standards either. If it were I'd be married on an onion farm with two little ones by now." She makes a face at the idea.

"My sympathies. I can imagine worse fates, but not duller ones."

"I should get started on the party preparation, so you're free for a few hours. Try not to scare the locals, they're very egalitarian but completely oblivious, and they might not react to magic with torches and pitchforks, but there will probably be a lot of denial and fainting spells."

"I was thinking library, maybe walk around a few stores to get a feel for this place. You foresee any problems with that?"

"I can get a ride and have her drop you off at the public library. Then, you can wander a bit. Save the flying for when you're not going into town."

She calls for a ride. 

And shortly, there is a ride.

"Hey, Lydia. Who's this?"

"She's new. Recently found out about some of the stuff going on around this town, and didn't instinctually keep it to herself. Shall we go to my house?"

"Okay. We can talk. Nice meeting you, uh, visitor."

They get in the car.

"Nice to meet you." Gren follows into the car, humming a little tune. She has trouble with the seatbelt but eventually gets it.

Lydia probably should have thought to offer her help, but she is busy being passive-aggressive with her best friend.

Allison parks the car outside the library!

She will be polite to this otherworldly visitor, and then she and Lydia can hash things out before the party. Or after, she really would prefer after. 

"Enjoy your stay," she says brightly, and Gren is left alone. 

So she... Goes into the library and wanders around for a while, getting a feel for the things available.

There are shelves and shelves of fiction. 

She might be more interested in nonfiction, which does offer various books on introductory science topics, history organized by time period and region, and periodicals, if she's looking for recent news. 

There are also computers, though most are in use.

Nonfiction. Encyclopedias? Science and engineering. History? War documentaries?

No war documentaries. Some educational films and music, mostly.

In terms of books, she can find encyclopedias, history, and science, yes. 

Woudl she like to check those out? 

She'll just read them here, for now at least, thanks. One at a time, even.

Time passes.

She might like to wander the stores eventually, before they close for the night.

She is of course welcome to stay in the library.

Yeah, off to the stores she goes. She's kind of hungry but doesn't have local money. The last of the ration-biscuit in her vest holds her for now.

Most of the stores will not give away things for free.

One of them offers a perfume sample.

She's not big on perfume, but sure she'll take a perfume sample.

...She wanders by the clinic again sooner or later, and if that's closed will use her well-trained sense of direction to find her way back to Lydia's house.

The clinic is closed, by the time she gets there. It's getting lately, and the moon is up.

It's pretty, as full moons go. 

No problem by her. She'll jog back to Lydia's house rather than destroying a tree for a branch to fly on.

The party seems to be very rowdy.

Most of them seem to be under the influence of...a combination of substances.

A few of them seem affected most intensely.

She might recognize them as having something in common.

Oh, joy.

The smell is mostly alcohol at least. But alcohol and strange magic is a potentially dangerous combination.

Do they seem to be in danger? Or like they might do something regrettable?

Mostly distressed by unseen phantoms of one kind or another.

The complete absence of the birthday girl might also be notable.

Christ, okay, magic-sense- Are the unseen phantoms of the magical or hallucinated variety?

Both!

The humans seem to be receiving a slight buzz from the subtstance in the punch, but the werewolves are having vivid hallucinations.

Oh dear.

Is it amenable to her cursebreaking-copy? Probably not but worth a try...

Her own magic might be able to mimic its effects, but cursebreaking doesn't reverse them.

However, all of the magic seems to be coming from the petals floating in the punch bowl.

Those can turn to ash, thank you. Preferably in a way that doesn't alarm the partygoers.

Heal aura? Probably wouldn't help, and that's expensive magic.

Back outside to the two werewolves. "It's not real. Can you try to calm down?"

They don't seem to be snapping out of it. 

They're not particularly disrupting the wild party, though. Just collapsing against walls in fear and dismay. Other partygoers barely notice. 

This music is giving her a headache. The two werewolves can be manhandled with Witch-strength out into the backyard while she does her best to pacify them. Witches can be very strong for short periods of time, if they don't mind spending mana on it.

She reaches out for Lydia with a twisted version of her old captain's power. If she is within two miles, Gren will know where.

God, this town. Two magical... Situations, in as many days.

Lydia is within two miles!

Near the edge of town, on the preserve.

Time to go into the woods. 

What, is she supposed to leave them here? Well. She doesn't particularly like one and the other used to be a kamina so fine. Not like they'll call her out on the regulation against it.

She goes through the party again, grabbing a big handful of something crunchy and oily and kind of overwhelmingly tasteful because doing this on an empty stomach is a bad idea. And refilling her canteen.

She uncovers her Steelwing in the garage and flies in the correct direction. Relatively slowly, because forest.

Forest...forest...a big decrepit husk of a burnt-down house.

Lydia is inside.

Bow strung with knife in off hand, because she stupidly didn't think to look up how to operate modern firearms at the library and flintlocks are useless here. She probably won't use either, magic is strong, but appearances are important.

Hover close, quietly, listening. What other lifeforms are here?

There's a girl.

There's a boy.

And there's something else, coming up from beneath the ground.

She busts in, choosing an open window or smashing in otherwise. "Lydia! What's going on, and is violence called for?"

Lydia seems to be in a trance.

It is at least partially magical.

The werewolf with her is only somewhat conscious, due to the magic plant and its ongoing effect on him.

He was affected similarly to the boys at the party, and is just now recovering somewhat.

He mostly seems to be watching the figure climbing out of the grave outside.

The werewolf not with Lydia dusts himself off ineffectually. The dirt seems to be there to stay for a while.

"Well, this is a nice surprise. And on your birthday no less, thank you Lydia. I don't know why you brought this random stranger for me, but she is very pretty."

"Yeah, that's not gonna fly. I have a sudden, sneaking suspicion that you're behind tonight's nonsense."

"Rude. I'm only being friendly, you should try it sometime."

He cracks his knuckles, frowning.

"That's different. And that," he says, running his hand through his hair.

"Resurrection is trickier than I thought."

"Resurrection, nice. Don't suppose you're willing to share the trick?"

"He isn't. Don't trust him, don't talk to him, don't-"

He trails off, unable to muster the energy.

"I suspect that trick relies on an alpha's claws and a local banshee."

"Well, damn. Possibly dying kind of sucks you know? Banshee, eh. That's the other magic on her, other than the stuff they're all drugged up on?"

The banter is stalling and hoping he tells her more. She's not used to fighting alone, or humans, and information is always valuable.

"Oh yes, Lydia here is a banshee. The wolfsbane was my idea to get my nephew's help. I needed an alpha's claws to come back to life, and I couldn't use my dead ones, unfortunately, since the alpha power went to him. Also, they were decaying, a little. All better now though."

"Good for you. Seriously, congratulations. Resurrection is no small feat. On that note. Was there no possible way to do it that didn't involve poisoning four people?!? It's not fun stuff, I can tell that much."

"Just a few mild hallucinations; by using the punch instead of directly injecting them I saved your pet high schoolers a lot of pain. Derek needed a stronger dose to do his part, but he'll forgive me when he wakes up. We were always close."

"Uh huh, I totally believe that. What I'm lost on is how you pulled Lydia into this... Mess, at all."

"Honestly, I just want to go home and sleep it off. If it's anyone's mess, it's his nephew's. Family business and all." 

She stands up, trying to regain her composure. Her shudder as she passes Peter mars an otherwise steady gait.

"Okay then. Mr. Hale, I'm ticked off, separated from my friends who were fighting a very nasty war with me. In the absence of inhuman monsters there are human ones. I don't want bloodshed but if you push me I'm used to it. Think about that and produce reparations the injured parties find satisfying, if you please."

"Derek would prefer me dead, Scott would prefer me alive, Lydia here would like me to leave her alone, and Jackson couldn't care less. Assuming I have that about right, I think I'll stay in town and stay away from Ms. Martin."

"Good luck with that. Man, if tomorrow scores three for three I'll be ticked. Derek want a lift back to Lydia's? Don't know this place to find much else yet."

"I'll stay here tonight if you can drop him off at a motel somewhere." 

"That fine with you Peter? With the understanding that if you steal my stuff or anything I will be grievously annoyed."

"I can be very well-behaved, if that's what you like."

Her thing hovers lower, almost to the ground. "Then climb on, strap in if you like. It's more or less a flying motorcycle powered by me. To a motel, and as a favor for Derek."

And don't think she won't have the subtle sturdiness witchstrength gives running.

He doesn't seem inclined to cause any trouble. 

Then he'll be dropped off at a motel without incident. "I hope you have cash, I don't." 

Aaaand back to Lydia's house.

And Lydia is home. 

"Why did I ever think this party was a good idea?"

"Because parties usually go better. I'm annoyed, I was so proud of myself when I managed to copy that curse breaker but it doesn't work on anything here. On that note, we're you out of it enough to miss anything he said? I was trying to pump for information."

"I don't think so, but I seem to have a bit of a mental block around him. Peter Hale."

"Huh..... Mental. Shit!"

"You can try to do something, if you I want, but I think it's the result of having him in my head so long, not anything magical. He had a lot of...force of personality. I'll need a day to recover. Decompress."

"No I can't touch it but that's the extra layer. Or one of them. I hate mental stuff. You can never undo it."

"I don't even know if I can hope that it'll go away if he leaves me alone. He rewired my brain so he could die and come back."

"I will interrogate one of the other wolves about it. And the vet-druid. I will at minimum hurt him badly if he tries something like that again. He'd have a geas-or-execution deal back home but I can't do geases."

"That sounds extreme, but then I'm not the only one he hurt." 

She glances around the house, where they find a few unconscious people.

"I did this, all of it, because he wanted to, and I remember doing it. I remember thinking it was the right thing to do. I also don't remember it at all. It hurts to think about it." 

"Punishments for things that can break unity, like screwing with peoples' minds and making everyone not trust each other, get very very harsh punishments because we need to be on our game to fight the Neuroi. And prison isn't viable for most sorts of mind-altering Witches. Hence, geas-or-death. Other than promising to retaliate if I see it happen again I don't think I can help."

"Do you know what being a banshee means for you? I'll be asking Dr. Deaton that too."

"No. At least it's good news, compared to all the mind control. I finally know why all these weird things have been happening to me, and maybe my friends will actually tell me what's going on next time."

"Information deficit really stinks. I'm used to telling everyone everything, at least everything tactically relevant - team fighting and good coordination is a force multiplier."

"The supernatural conspiracy probably thinks they're protecting people. Scott just went along with it because the situation was already like that when he got here, and he constantly worries about getting people hurt. That's all he does with his time."

"Reminds me of some people from training. Every single one of us grew up real fast. You mind if I eat some of whatever's left from the party?"

"Help yourself. I'll try to handle these late departures." 

She goes about stirring the people littering her house and backyard.  

She radiates the heal aura juuust slightly to help them along. And munches on the more identifiable foods.

"Okay, I can probably spin this as the wildest, most fun party in months. That should keep everyone from thinking I drugged all of them. Which is good, I don't think mind control holds up in court."

"Man how do courts even work here?"

"I don't know that much about the legal system. There are local courts, which can forward the issue up the chain. They serve cities or counties. Those are smaller regions within states or provinces, which are smaller regions within countries or nations or states. Terminology varies and is barely internally consistent, and law isn't my specialty...what language are you speaking?"

"London Standardized English. I'm only familiar with Witch courts from home. Whole separate system for crimes done by magic."

"If you want to learn the laws around here, I'll help you navigate to the important stuff."

She retrieves her laptop. 

"That was general curiosity not specific curiosity. I'll stick to science for now I think. The ideal gas law is neat, I always wondered how the steam trains worked."

"You should look into more modern technology, if only so you have something to take with you."

She walks around the house, checking up on her guests. Some of them start waking up, and she explains just how wild the party got.

Most of them leave without embarrassing themselves further, though a few are skeptical that they drank that much, despite the evidence.

Does it help if a significant portion of available alcohol has mysteriously been illusioned as empty bottles and cans?

It does help!

No one makes a scene, and everyone goes home quietly.

"Alright. Next order of business is probably to talk to Derek. Since I resurrected his uncle. Who he killed."

"I don't really know everyone's names yet but I can clean up at least..." Obvious trash goes into bags. Less obvously-trash gets stacked. "Isn't telekinesis handy?"

"It is. We might even be done before my mom gets here. I guess she'll wonder why I trashed the house and ran away."

"I... Have no advice about mothers."

"I'm sorry.  I guess it's not a big problem to have. I'll figure out what to tell her."

She pulls out her phone, and starts making calls.

Grendyne is free to use anything she needs.

Before Lydia starts calls, "She's still alive. But I got thrown into a very rely-on-yourself culture at age 12 and only visit her every couple years."

Cleanup, cleanup. She eats more random snacks, enough to make a junk food-y meal. She even scrubs out a couple of stains.

And then... Borrows the laptop and resumes her research into ham radios.

After about half an hour, Lydia interrupts her.

"I'm going to want to talk to my mom alone. In the meantime, you can probably check in with the veterinarian."

"The place was closed earlier. I can clean the 'wing and do spell practice in the woods."

"Enjoy. Hopefully I can resolve things here without drama, I've had enough of that." 

"Good luck."

And she's off.

The woods are happy to let her practice in them!
They won't even try to trap her there forever and study her.

And when she returns, Lydia is sitting outside on her porch.

"How was practice?"

"Not so much practice as bookkeeping. But, did what I wanted to."

"Good. I had an okay evening. My mom only yelled at me a little bit, and cried about my unfortunate schizophrenia. I hope you're real, that will make tonight easier."

"I've been accused of being fictional before, sadly enough. My world can be pretty weird at times too, even if the Neuroi eclipse most people caring about it."

"We all have our quirks. Mind showing up inside so my mom believes that much?"

"Not at all."

The Steelwing is set in a corner of the garage again. There's not really all that much room for it, but it'll do.

"Tomorrow I'm going to find an empty-enough patch of woods if Sir Deaton, er, Doctor, hasn't. These weapons shouldn't sit around."

"You'll have to tell me more about your world. I know there are monsters, but not much more."

They head inside, where Lydia's mom is drinking wine alone.

"Lydia, what now?"

She stands, looking stricken.

"Ma'am. I'm Grendyne Nylund, a Witch." In the palm of her hand is a little bundle of manalight. She makes a fairly impressive shield with the other. "Any proof you need that this isn't total nonsense- I'm fairly versatile for a Witch."

"Oh. No, that's. Quite enough for one night. If you're still around tomorrow, maybe just- do the hand light again. Sorry, honey. We can talk more in the morning. Good night."

And she goes upstairs. She leaves the glass.

"Thanks for that. Sorry about the mess this whole town has made for you."

"What're you gonna do except carry on, right?"

"Right. If you're fine sleeping here tonight, I should probably sleep. Turn in whenever you want, as long as you don't make too much noise."

"I sleep wherever's available- Thanks again though. I'll probably stay up fairly late, get cracking on the technology briefing for in case I get rescued. Heaven knows something else will probably happen tomorrow and if I wait for a good time to do things nothing would get done."

"I think I'll leave you to it. I should get some rest, apparently being regularly possessed isn't good for a person." 

Gren goes back to research, and tidily writing in her little notebook. And snacking quietly - whatever 'chips' are they're pretty tasty once you get used to the grease.

The next morning, Lydia is waiting downstairs when she wakes up.

She has some eggs and bacon made already, if she wants some.

"Bacon!"

It's safe to guess she wants some.