sixthiterationlogs | obscurial event: town hall.

Entry tags:

obscurial event: town hall.

WHO: Percival Graves
WHERE: Town Hall
WHEN: Half an hour after the first sighting / hearing of the Obscurus
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mentions of violence, abuse, hate, etc
STATUS: Something like a mingling -- feel free to post OTAs of your own. If you need Graves to respond, just put his name in the header / or in bold somewhere in your comment!

Graves has to get ahead of this; he must. The Obscurus that had raged across town is monstrous, magnificent; but it's twisted magic, dark beyond all comprehension, a parasite that had latched onto a young man who had no other recourse. Graves has never seen the likes of it in his life, but there will be plenty of time to ruminate on that later.

Right now, Graves' objectives are clear: keep a lynch mob from forming using whatever means necessary (in this case, with information -- MACUSA's not here to obliviate the entire lot of them), find Credence, and contain the damage. They can figure out contingencies later.

The fact that he should have seen this coming is not lost on him; as Director, he should have had more comprehensive measures in place -- no matter if no one has ever actually dealt with an Obscurus in written record in four hundred years. His own precautions and failsafes had not been enough, he had not anticipated a creature of nearly this much power, and with preliminary (incomplete) knowledge of the damage the Obscurus has caused, Graves holds this meeting.

It haunts him, the cries resounding within the wails of the thing. Credence's cries. He tries not to think about just why he's attacked him -- he knows exactly why, and the truth of it makes the bile rise in his throat, anger burning in his bones: all reactions that do not serve his objectives at this point in time.

He's healed himself somewhat, the bleeding from the gash in his forearm has stopped, wrapped up tight -- the dislocation fixed even if Graves still favors his right side almost imperceptibly. Nothing can be done for the cracked ribs but time, and after all, he's suffered through worse. And more importantly, Credence is in distress, lost out somewhere, and Graves knows he needs to keep the peace and protect him, to get him back before the parasite itself consumes him wholly. Newt (and perhaps Tina) are searching for him out there in the woods, and he's here, intent on dealing with whatever fallout may come their way.

He doesn't trust No-Majs, their violence and hatred bleeding deep and rampant in the centuries (then again, wizards are not much better), and despite altered circumstances within this village, he still does not trust most of them -- after all, fear is a powerful equalizer, it can turn even the most intelligent people into faceless, irrational mobs. And that had been why he had first sought out Stella and Peggy, enlisted their help. The centuries old law, the one thing that keeps them from war with the No-Majs, cannot apply here, it must not. He will Obliviate them all later if necessary, but Stella and Peggy have proven that they can be valuable partners, and with a common tie to Credence it's unlikely they would turn on him. He tells them what they need to know, withholds all that is irrelevant -- including the identities of the wizards amongst them.

His duty is to them, not to the No-Majs, and he will keep them safe however he can.

In a sea of unpredictable variables Graves makes the best decision possible; he alerts Queenie as well, even as he prepares to address the people. Graves looks a little worse for wear, which is an improvement from earlier in the evening, all things considered -- and while the squirrel on his shoulder is a deviation from the norm, the little creature is at least peaceable, settled.

"What happened out there is not a natural disaster." He says, getting right to the point without pomp or greeting. "The force that destroyed the schoolhouse is a part of Credence, and he is as much a victim to it as you are. That force is called an Obscurus, a parasite that latches itself onto a child who has -- special gifts, but who have been forced to repress and hide away those gifts out of shame and fear. An Obscurus is created through violence and pain -- by being constantly bullied or abused. Credence is an Obscurial."

Best to give them as much context as necessary but hold off on the details. Graves' words are crisp, almost impersonal, but the magic that gathers, crackles just under his skin is present and strong, detected only by fellow folk born to magic itself -- his failsafe: if anyone goes after Credence with the intent to hurt him, if the worst happens and the village turns on Credence, he will do what it takes to shield him from it. As Director, he has never shied from difficult decisions; he doesn't intend to make exceptions now.

"What you may have seen is an extreme. Some of you may have noticed that Credence has not been himself lately. When Obscurials reach their emotional and mental breaking points, they lose control, and it triggers a physical transformation into an Obscurus.

"This was what happened, and the causes of which are currently under investigation." The lie is effortless and undetectable. After all, he has spent his whole life professionally dealing in secrets and lies.

His words are calm, as he looks at each and every one present. Even now, he quietly guards Credence's shame, his past, giving only what is necessary. "The cries you may have heard within that cloud was him, and we are searching for him at the moment. We intend to put a stop to the destruction, retrieve him and help him, as well as to ensure that this does not happen again." He pauses. "I understand that you may be afraid, or have concerns. I am here to reassure you that we have the situation under control, and to address these concerns."

A beat, and Graves considers the crowd, silently warring with his own instincts when he realizes that at this point he has very little left to lose. "Credence Barebone is not a monster. And for those of you who know him, he is still a friend to you. He is someone who needs help. "

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Sam had come for answers but he actually hadn't been expecting any. Since when did they ever get answers? Sam notices Peggy standing at the door and tries to read her expression, but his attention is already drawn to the man calling the meeting. He looked even worse for wear than Sam himself. Sam had dodged the creature and aside from some cuts, bruises, and an already wrapped sprained wrist he was fine. In fact he was a little on edge -- both from the attack and from the destruction. He'd never seen anything like that before and at the moment he was assuming it was another curve ball from this place.

So, when Graves begins to talk about Credence and what he is, Sam is a little shocked. He silently takes it all in, trying to match what he saw a few moments ago with the boy he'd been playing chess with only recently. He'd known there was something troubling Credence, something below the surface, but he'd always just assumed it was some other kind of trauma. Not something that required a meeting like this. It just doesn't make sense and yet, somehow, it explains so much about the way Credence behaved and some of the things that Sam had brushed off.

Even worse, some of what Graves says makes Sam think of experiences he had back home. He understands the tightrope Graves must be walking and the fact that Graves is being vague is not lost on him. But another thought occurs to him in that moment. Where was Credence now?

"How can we help him?" Sam is standing, he's not sure when he got to his feet. "You say it's triggered by mental and emotional trauma? Like PTSD, right? I have some training as a counselor in that area, working with soldiers mostly, but is someone looking for him? Someone he can trust? He has to be terrified right now. And sending someone after him that he doesn't trust could only make it worse. So what can we do?" If this was even a portion of how Steve felt when it came to Bucky, Sam suddenly had an entirely new appreciation for what his friend went through.

They all wanted answers. Needed answers, even if they were more than used to not getting them, at this point. This though, he learns, isn't something caused by the people who brought them here. This is worse, perhaps. Something far more personal. Sonny hadn't been in the path of destruction, but he'd seen the aftermath of it. The injured people, the wreckage of the schoolhouse. And now they're learning that whatever did it was part of Credence.

It's hard to believe. Sonny knows Credence. They're friends. From day one, he's had a gripping urge to protect the younger man, to make sure nothing and no one hurts him. He'd suspected from experience, from his job, that Credence likely hadn't always seen the kindness he deserved.

He didn't know it was this bad. He wishes he could've done more. That's the worst part of his job — there's rarely anything they can do beforehand. They always end up helping afterwards, handling the aftermath.

"I want to help, too," he says, glancing from Graves to Sam. "I'm not a counselor or anything, but I'm a Special Victims detective at home. We work with abuse victims a lot, we have sensitivity training. Whatever's going on — Credence doesn't deserve it. I want to do what I can to help him."

It's hard enough to be in a crowded room on his good days, especially one running this high with emotions: so many kinds of fear, inward and outward seeking. Frustration for the secrets, fear for their being revealed, fear for the new unknown cast upon them and another near death. It crowds up against every piece of him rubbed raw by Casey's disappearance, sinks into his skin, sets him anxious to leave.

He's making his way back through the crowd, needing some air, needing to get out there already, damned if he'll let another person slip through his fingers like--

Smoke, Jesus.

But he catches Sam's question, and he's spent enough time with him and Sonny both he doesn't need to pick their reactions out of the crowd to know they're genuine. Whatever Credence has done, they're no more upset with him than Kira is, and it means something to feel that, wondering if the fear in the room will coalesce into a mob. "I'm going," he says, stopping briefly at their elbows. "Credence calls me a friend, the only other person he talks about like that is Tina. I don't think he'd hurt me, even like this." Even with his strange temper the other day, he seemed to be holding it back for Kira's sake. "I'll bring him back."

Sam glances at Sonny, nodding in appreciation for the back up. He was glad he wasn't the only one here who understood even a little what Credence might be going through psychologically. True, they probably weren't the most qualified to deal with something like this, but certainly they were better than nothing.

Sam takes his attention away from Graves for the moment to notice Kira. He'd seen the younger man planning to go but he appreciates the heads up. He lowers his voice, "You want us to go with you? We might be able to help? And I don't think we're going to make much headway in here." He glances at Sonny to see his thoughts but then notices that Graves has his eyes on them and nods to Kira, "Meet you outside?"

There are probably a million more people more qualified to deal with this sort of thing. Actual therapists, and Sonny has an entire list of them he could recommend right off the top of his head if they were at home. But they're not. They don't have those kind of resources. What they do have are some people who've dealt with people who've gone through some shit, and those people sort of know what they're doing.

Sonny trusts Kira. They might've gotten off to a rocky start, but he's heard the way Credence talks about him. Credence trusts him too, and that's what's more important.

"We'll help search," he says, his gaze flicking back towards Graves before returning to Kira. "Never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes."

Good men, good intentions: even down a sprained wrist, Kira can't imagine refusing that kind of help. Sam's savvy enough to avoid the suspicion of leaving in a group, and Sonny's someone Credence has mentioned before, and certainly geared toward being helpful.

Why he keeps extending it to Kira, when he's been an asshole and a half about it, he isn't sure--but this isn't about either of them. "I guess it would be kind of stupid for me to run off into the woods alone," he admits, having planned to do exactly that, and fuck the consequences. Fuck a lot of things, lately.

"I'll see you out there," he says, and in case they're still being watched, mimes a lighter and cigarette briefly as he turns away. Graves had smelled them on him at the feast, no reason he couldn't have kept a few. No reason he couldn't just be slipping out to have one, overwhelmed in the middle of a crisis.

He wishes that were the case, when he slips outside and has to keep himself occupied in the minutes between. They'll find him a ways from the door, and he nods to Sam first: "You were around when it happened, did you see which way he was heading?"

Boy was Sam used to dealing with people who rushed head first and said fuck the consequences. And usually he was the dumbass following right along behind them. What that said about him, he didn't want to know really. Sam snorts, "Yeah no kidding. You could really hurt yourself." He holds his wrist up -- Credence hadn't even technically been responsible for that injury. Sam had gone to dodge and then wound up falling wrong on it. And that was in the village where things were relatively clear. The woods were a whole other ballgame, seeing as how they could change and shift without warning.

Still, he was in and it wasn't like a wrist injury prevented his eyes or legs from working so a search shouldn't be a problem. He realizes though that Kira doesn't want them walking out to be obvious -- so Sam pays attention to the conversations a bit more and when Graves is distracted by other outbursts -- no loner conversing with himself or Sonny -- he slips out. He'd been working on that back when he'd been searching for Bucky. Although it was a lot easier to blend into a crowd when you weren't one of the few black men in them. Still, he managed to make it out without anyone stopping him so he'd have to take it.

Once outside, he checked their surroundings, "That way. Beeline for the way out of town after smashing the school really." Sam is pointing down what might be considered the main road, past the inn and obviously out into the unknown.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Sonny dealt with someone running head first into a stupid situation without thinking about the consequences. Not when he has three rebellious, rambunctious sisters, and a recovering gambling addict for a best friend. On the bright side, he's normally around to rein them in and be somewhat of the voice of reason, so that's something he's at least used to.

Occasionally, in certain situations, he has to be reined in himself. But he's kept a steady head so far, and he intends to continue doing so.

He and Sam slip out as soon as it's safe. Easy enough to do once Graves's attention is dragged to somebody else putting in their two cents. Outside, Kira's waiting for them, and Sonny's mildly surprised to see he didn't take off on his own when it took a moment for them to step outside into the darkness.

"We should grab a flashlight," he reasons, casting a glance up at the moon. It'll provide some light, but likely not enough once they're in the cover of the woods. "Or a torch."

"You can go get one if you want," Kira says with a shrug, but it chafes his crumbling patience to spare the time. Following Sam's arm, he stares into the trees, the shadows resolved to several shades in the time he's been outside. "I've been out there at night, you might be surprised how well you adjust."

He could grope his way blind through this canyon to Credence; he knows the feel of that beast that rode at his back, sensed it rising over the last couple of days, but there hadn't been anything to do. Nothing but what he's always done: try to stand by his friend, and let him speak his mind, even when the words started to cut.

"I don't know how he'll feel about fire," he adds, glancing at Sam before looking fully back to Sonny. "The people he grew up with, they were called Second Salemers. I don't think he'll hurt me, but--he has to know it's me."

Sam nodded at Kira, "I understand. But he isn't going to know it's you without some light." Unless he could see in the dark, Sam wasn't sure what abilities he had at this point, but somehow he felt that was unlikely.

Sam considered the problem, "One of the kits I got for Christmas had a flashlight. Haven't used it much because I figured we'd need to save the battery. I can grab it on the way out." They will pass by his house that he shares with Clint and Wanda on the way out of the village, so it isn't even out of the way. He can also tell that if they don't do it quick that they'll probably lose Kira.

"We can't go into it recklessly," Sonny reminds, though he certainly understands. If it were one of his sisters out there, one of his close friends, he doesn't think he'd have the patience to do anything other than charge in head first. But the forest has been known to change, and there's no telling what's out there other than Credence.

A torch might read like some fire-and-pitchforks witch hunt, which is something Sonny hadn't exactly thought about. Dealing with victims of abuse and trauma is his forte, but the finer parts of this particular situation are ones he's entirely unused to.

"Without light, he'll only see shadows looming in the dark," he reasons. "It'll only take a second to grab one on our way out."

"I can go into it however I please," he says evenly, though he's not racing into the woods with his first steps, and he's aware of the sense in their words. Aware that he's bristling for all the wrong reasons, at the wrong people--but he has one hand on the cards Credence gave him and the other hanging at his side, and in it he can feel the ghost of Ren's clammy wrists, bruises blooming at his joints and mapping out his bones under the skin.

He can't drag another body home. He can't do it, with no Casey to pull him away from the grave and no Credence to ask him about stars instead of acknowledging the tears on his face in the slightest.

"Just be quick about it, please," he tells Sam, sparing a moment to meet his gaze, to show that he is waiting for them, despite it all. "I'm not trying to be stupid," he says to them both, "It's just--I don't care anymore. I don't care if he kills sixteen people and injures thirty more, I'm not losing him."

Sam knows better than to keep Kira waiting. He just nods and slips ahead to get into the cabin and find what he needs. "Be back shortly."

He understands where Kira must be coming from, he'd encountered people far more "bristly" than Kira was being, but he knew it would be in their best interests if they at least tried to keep Kira in some form of check. He was too close to this, just as Steve had been with Bucky and sometimes Sam found himself wishing he'd spoken up more to reel his friend back in. But, you couldn't wish your life different and so Sam tried to make sure he had as few things to regret as possible.

It doesn't take him long to get what he needs. He's done his best to keep things in the same places for emergencies like this--quick grab and go seemed like it would pay off when he'd stashed some of the supplies around the house and this situation is proving that his call had been a correct one.

He comes back out with the light, it illuminates a lot and makes the cabin seem even stranger than usual. The shadows stretch around them just as Kira and Sonny had discussed. "I'll keep it pointed towards the ground -- that should help. I also found these," he tosses a glow stick towards Kira. "I don't want to use more than one," he says, directing the apology at Sonny. He then looks back to Kira, "But it seemed like it might be good to have a back up source of light."

His attention turns to the woods and he directs the light that way, "Shall we?"

"I know," Sonny says. "We're gonna find him, okay? And then we're not gonna let anything happen to him. No matter what." It could be construed as an empty promise, one that Olivia would chastise him for if he were at home, but there's conviction in his voice, and more than enough determination to back it up. There's nothing empty about it, because Sonny's going to do everything in his power to keep Credence safe, even if that means physically placing himself between the younger boy and whoever might want to hurt him.

He begins to walk, trailing behind Sam's slower pace as the other man slips ahead to get some supplies. It's making progress even as Sam's gone, just to placate Kira's nerves a little. They don't make it further than the cabin before their companion is back with lights, dismissing the apology with a wave of his hand. He understands.

"Let's go," he says, and he's more than happy to begin leading the charge towards the woods, despite not being one of the two with any sort of light source. A grid search would be the most logical way to go, but they don't have a map and they don't have a large group of people looking. Wandering aimlessly through the woods with a flashlight calling Credence's name sounds like a very poor way of executing this, but it's not like they have any other options. And it's certainly not enough to make Sonny back off.

Beyond his own breaking point, Kira's preference for going into the trees alone was as much to do with his own methods for navigating. His hands hesitate on the cards in his pocket, in the presence of two possible naysayers. He could ask the direction to go, and they could look at him like he's crazy, argue against tactics without concrete results. Sonny believes in God but not this kind of miracle; Sam he doesn't know much beyond the man's ever-willingness to help.

But he is helping: Kira holds the stick in his other hand, uncracked, and glances between his taller companions. "I won't use it if we don't have to," he promises, moving it to the other back pocket of his jeans.

When both hands return, one is holding a card: if they don't like it, they can fuck off, or they can follow him around under the pretense that he's a lunatic they have to keep safe from himself. At this point, he doesn't care. Tipping it to the light, he makes out a spade. Glancing back at the hall to orient himself, he points to the north. "We need to go that way."

A year in a mysterious, unidentifiable canyon, a few years spent with the Avengers, and Sam had learned that there was plenty of weird things that happened every day that he would never understand. He'd learned to accept it, to roll with it, and to protect his friends as best he could. It was harder when you were facing forces that could probably wipe you off the face of the earth as soon as look at you, but Sam managed as best he could.

So when Kira pulls out a card, holds it to the light, and then declares they should head in a northerly direction Sam doesn't question it. He raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't argue. Might as well see what Kira thinks is going to work, right? Kira doesn't strike him as the type to pull a joke and lead them in circles -- not where Credence is concerned. Sam's trusted his gut this far and it hasn't steered him too wrong.

"I just hope the woods cooperate tonight. I really don't want us getting lost on top of it," he muttered, glancing up at the trees accusingly. It had happened before, so he hoped it wouldn't decide to rearrange itself tonight of all nights.

Sonny, unfortunately, is still gathering his feet under him when it comes to all the weird stuff that's presented itself to him since arriving in the village. He's met people from different time periods, and has witnessed two different people create fire and ice out of nothing. This is an odd place, and he's trying to roll with the punches. But Kira pulls out his deck of cards, declares which way they need to go, and Sonny can't help his frown.

"You got that from a deck of cards?" he asks, and he can't help the faint skepticism in his voice. He does, however, follow Kira without further ado, deciding to put his faith and trust in the other man, as he's so wont to do.

He glances at the trees, then further up at the sky, praying silently for some good luck, and God's strength and courage to grace them as they go on this mission.

"Most people don't like it when I start proving myself with these things," Kira warns, letting Sam walk ahead in the intended direction with Sonny behind. He doesn't think either of them would let him trail behind, wouldn't be too watchful of him trying to slip away from back there. "Besides, the magnets you'd prefer to listen to won't help us find a person."

A mournful sound cuts across the canopy, from a distance Kira can't measure up ahead, and he comes up to Sam's side, mindful of the light showing the ground under their feet and the truth of his concerns.

"I've never gotten lost in here before," he promises. "Cards don't care where the landmarks are, they just know the destination."

"It can't hurt," Sam adds. Now isn't the time to get into an argument about it. While there hasn't been an attack from the woods since those weird bugs, Sam would rather not risk things. The woods have proven time and again to be a dangerous place to venture alone--but at least now there are three of them. True, one of them is technically injured, but Sam isn't going to let that stop him now. He'll take the verbal lashing from Peggy later.

When the sound drifts through the trees Sam stops for a moment, trying to get his barrings. He frowns, shaking his head. The sound is just being bounced off the trees, making it pretty difficult to pin point a source, "That's reassuring...'cause this place has a way of messing with your head if you're not careful. We nearly lost Miss Kate out here once...even some of the dogs people had couldn't sniff her out."

A quick assessment of the first speaker -- Sam's -- injuries informs him that Credence had been relatively lenient with the man as far as damage is concerned. But what matters, as the second speaker contributes, is that the both of them are professionals; men who are not so different from Peggy and Stella. A counselor (what a strange, new thing; Graves finds himself surprised that there's a vocation for it -- soldiers usually are actively encouraged to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, after all they were men, and drawing on others for help is so often seen as weakness). He frowns at the mention of PTSD, but makes a note to query that later.

He looks from Sam to Sonny, taking in their suggestions and questions; to say that their reaction is unexpected is an understatement. No-Majs usually have more of a fearful and violent response to something like this, a enduring trait he has long detested and has always made preparations against. The concern on their faces is something that makes him wonder if more exceptions to the norm here exist -- or if this is perhaps the norm.

Sensitivity training, working with abuse victims -- things really are done differently back in these men's world, and the sympathy he senses from them makes him pause.

"My colleagues are searching for him currently." He glances out the window. Serenity after the storm, a cloying, heavy thing in the wake of such damage. "Credence must have regained control of himself by now." Looking back at them, Graves chooses his words carefully. "He trusts the both of them." And that, that must be enough. "I cannot assume his mental state, but both your help as to his recovery will be appreciated. Your names are?"

After addressing Kira briefly, Sam returns his attention to Graves. He can tell the man is evaluating and weighing his and Sonny's words, but Sam hardly seems swayed by it. He's used to people looking at him like that and he isn't about to let someone he hardly knows dissuade him from what he knows to be right.

He raised an eyebrow at the word 'trust' because he wasn't so sure about that. Steve and Bucky had once trusted each other and they'd been best friends, Sam wasn't sure Credence had that same foundation to go off of and hadn't he been living with Graves. What did that say about him? There was just too much Sam didn't know about the scenario and Graves could tell them whatever he wanted and they didn't have Credence here to disprove or discount what he was saying at all. It just...it rubbed Sam the wrong way.

"Sam Wilson. And I may not know a lot about this Obscurial stuff...heck, my life was pretty normal before getting involved with the Avengers, but powers or not people's mental states don't change all that much when it really gets down to it. And someone who is scared and doesn't know who to trust isn't going to just pop back up because you have two people sweeping the forest and calling his name," Sam paused and then added, "Forests mind you that have been known to change on a whim and we have people here who have been trying to map them out for a year now."

If Newt can handle Ukrainian Ironbellies without breaking a sweat, he can handle an Obscurus.

This, of course, is what Graves keeps to himself; the No-Majs have enough to wrap their mind around without the introduction of dragons. Graves is unaware of any organization called the Avengers, but he files that away all the same, together with the fact that somehow the man seems unfazed in the face of powers, and it makes him wonder if he's seen more than his fair share of events outside the realm of non-magical comprehension.

Perhaps.

"He trusts her." Graves says simply, but doesn't add a name to it -- the name is irrelevant. If nothing else, Tina is the only one who can get to him, the only one he will let close, and Graves knows that it's personal for Tina, that she will make sure he's safe. "She was the only one who helped him when no one else did."

They might be in the middle of a sort of disaster, chaos lingering in this Obscurus's wake, but Sonny's heart hurts. It hurts thinking about how scared Credence must be, how terrible of a trauma he must have suffered to allow something like this to happen. It hurts knowing that there was nobody there to help him before, to save him from whatever happened and prevent this from happening to begin with.

That won't be the case this time. They might be too late to stop it from happening, but they'll be here to help him recover.

"Sonny Carisi. I've talked to Credence before — we're friends. I'd suspected he'd been abused, he showed all the signs. We couldn't be there for him before, but we've got to be there for him now. We have to help him."

He wishes now he'd pushed Credence to open up a little more, to face the abuse that had happened to him so he could begin to recover. "I don't understand what's really going on, what any of these 'special gifts' are, but I don't need to to know that it's not his fault, and we should help him."

Sam kept his eyes on Graves, studying the man. He recalled conversations with Credence and mentions of a Mr. Graves. The fact that he's not out there searching as well probably says a lot about his patience for everyone here. He knew it would be important to stop a manhunt and quell any desire for a riot. Sam can respect that. He doesn't know Graves though and can only trust him so much, especially when his gut tells him that there are things being left unsaid and unshared.

Although the fact that it was a 'she' and was probably someone from Credence's world would narrow it down if Sam really cared to sort through the people he knew here. After all, plenty of people had been reaching out to Credence since he'd arrived in the village, so Graves' last statement about "helping him when no one else did" would be a lie for this place.

He'd take it. At least for now. He turned his attention to Sonny, "We should talk. We can compare notes and between the two of us maybe we can come up with a way to help him when he's located. Help with the search too. I don't know about the specifics of his particular brand of gifts...but I've encountered a few cases of my own that might help."

There was definitely a lot of things being left unsaid. It was clear in the way Graves skimmed over the special gifts part, the vagueness of the entire explanation. Giving enough information to, hopefully, keep the town at peace, but not so much that he's sharing particular aspects he'd rather keep to himself. The detective part of him is itching to nose around and find out what's up.

The Special Victims detective part of him knows that it's far more important to make sure Credence is located and taken care of before anything else happens. But he's decided that he's not going to let this go. It'll just be put on the back burner for the time being.

"Yeah," Sonny agrees, turning his attention back to Sam. They'd only spoken once before, but now it seems that they're very important allies, and Sonny's decided that he trusts the other man. "Special gifts aren't my forte, but victims are. They'll probably find him before we do, but we should search and be there for him once he's found. He'll need all the love and support he can get."

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obscurial event: town hall.

OTA -- though possibly directed at Graves?

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@ Sam and Sonny

continuation for kira and sonny thread?

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@ Sam and Sonny

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