Rozalind made her smile, though Gemma couldn’t imagine what she might have done to get on Twain’s bad side. It didn’t seem like Twain even [i]had[/i] a bad side. Either way, she was looking forward to meeting her when the time came, though hopefully TIGER’s help would be unnecessary. She couldn’t help being relieved that they wouldn’t disappear like MOON did, though. To have someone on backup like that was reassuring.

Hoping that they would be able to drive right up to whatever horrific locale that they were going to be exploring was just wishful thinking, of course. It wasn’t long before they were heading out to the site of the event on foot, and oh, how Gemma hated it. Her headache and the sticky dread festering in her gut were just complimented by the bitter cold, icy thin air. Progress was slow, mostly held back by her, probably, but she refused all help that Icarus offered her. Who- or whatever had forced her to climb a god damn mountain when she was being pelted by god only knows what kind of occult crap while she was in the middle of her first serious investigation in her first serious job was going to get it when they finally got to that plume of smoke. As long as she didn’t freeze to death first.

As soon as Gemma saw the creepy castle in the distance, she knew that that had to be the source. She wasn’t even being influenced by the movies she’d watched as a kid; the power emanating from it was so strong that her fingers went numb at the tips, and not from the cold. She’d stuffed her mittens with hand warmers. The numbness was definitely a side effect of the event.

“I can’t just wait here!” Gemma protested at Twain’s suggestion. She’d come all this way, and to be left out when the real investigation began… “I feel fine, Twain, I swear. We have backup on its way and I’ll…  I’ll freeze to death if I just sit here!” She felt like Zesiro, complaining like this. But it was true!