[center][hr][hr][img]https://image.ibb.co/hHTZ3p/pro.gif[/img][hr][color=536d78][b]Date:[/b][/color] Monday May 23rd, 2017[hr][/center]

[color=536d78][b]Road To Grimm:[/b][/color] Zoie looked over towards Mali and chuckled a bit. "Guess that is the magic three. Wonder if the Illuminati is at fault, or fucking Juno in this case," she said as she found an exit just south of Gary, Indiana and headed off the HWY. "Looks like we have a McDonald's, Burger King, White Castle, and Panera. Surprised there's no Starbucks," she contemplated as they pulled up to a light and waited at the red. "Which for you? Thinking Panera is out best bet for something that won't make us hate ourselves afterwards," she added. 

	Listening to Mali go on about a zombie apocalypse she nodded a bit. "Yeah, probably. Be nice to think that during something like that, there would be a place where people could go and work together. Not so much to rebuild society. I figure if there are zombies we're all eventually fucked, but at least places where people can live a little but fuck, people are assholes so god only fucking knows. Probably backwoods fuckers like friends of mine growing up would survive since their already used to living without shit like electricity and don't mind being alone."

[color=536d78][b]Chicago, Illinois:[/b][/color] Atticus's eyebrows rose sharply. "Seems you are deeper into this than I thought," he said a bit surprised by the words that were coming out of Caesars mouth right then. Granted he hadn't said a lot of words but what he did say was rather eye opening. "And to answer your question, apparently it is what God wants of you. Atonement comes in many forms and well He has a fucking twisted sense of humor," Atticus added as he pointed up towards the heavens. Shrugging he pushed the dice closer to Caesar before leaning back in his desk. "That is a Roman Dodecahedron and on it are the Twelve Zodiacs. Twelve sides. Many say three is a Holy Number, that seven is lucky, that thirteen is unlucky, and well sixty-nine is the ultimate lucky payout for some," he laughed before waving it off. 

	"If I were to call the number Twelve anything, I would call it the Perfect Number. It is the twelve full moons in a solar year, the twelve of months in our calendar. Twelve years in one full cycle of Jupiter, brightest of the ancients wandering stars. Twelve Olympian Principle Gods of Greece, twelve labors of Hercules. And so many more in the ancient religions. And then in our own, twelve, this is Gods most sacred if you take the text seriously. Ishmael had twelve sons. Jacob had twelve sons who became the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel. The twelve Apostles of Jesus fucking Christ. Twelve Days of Christmas. Twelve Great Feasts. Oh yes, twelve, is the fucking number of God, no matter what name you call him by."

	Sitting up he pulled out his bible from his desk drawer. It was old and worn, much older than he probably was. It was tabbed and post-noted on pages through out. "And then we come to the book of Revelations. Do you know what the Book of Revelations is about?" he asked the senior member of the Gonzalez family. 

	Claire looked over at Keystone and smirked a bit. "Then get the boss to put in clearance for ya. Remember I gotta get going. Dead friend and all," she said as she lead him back to the garage and pointed to the vehicle she had brought him over in. Pulling out another set of keys from her pocket she gave the man a once over. "Stay safe out there man, GPS is programed, just go reverse the previous entry to get directions back to the church. See ya man, I gotta run," she said before making her way over to a black jeep and climbing in. 

	Adelaide looked over at Robert and shook her head. "No, I never asked. I knew Marc worked for the FBI and was a former Seal. Lawson was a Marine, special forces. I knew if they had to send me something it was probably something I didn't want to know. Though I never suspected them of doing anything wrong. I'm usually very curious about things and want answers but something about all this just made me go it's best if I should just act as a delivery girl. Figured maybe they were just covering their asses," she said as she found the brown unsuspecting package and brought it over to a table, sitting it down and pulling the string on it. "I think Marc got transferred recently but Lawson moved there not long after the whole returning from the dead thing," she said as she pulled a chair over and had a seat. 

	Slowly and carefully pulling the string away from the box she set it aside and then started unwrapping the brown paper wrapping from the package. Pulling the lid off the box and looking inside Adelaide quirked a brow. "Oh, this can't be legal..." she muttered before looking over towards Robert. Sighing slightly she reached into the box and pulled out a folder and dropped it on the table. The folder had print on it. FBI - Classified. Then she pulled out another and another and another. Twelve in all. All with the same black stamp for the FBI on them, all marked Classified. Some old, some newer. Turning the box over she made sure it was empty before pushing it aside. "Why the hell would he send me classified FBI cases?" she asked as she looked over towards Roberts. It wasn't that she was really expecting an answer. More asking herself why the hell she had these. 


[color=536d78][b]Grimm, Indiana ([url=https://i.ibb.co/vBryJmf/ar121729041222794.jpg]Grimaldi Manor[/url]):[/b][/color] The basement door was just outside of the kitchen. There was a weird smell in the air. Sweet and artificial. Like one would imagine a candy factory might smell like. The door to the basement was open but the light on the stairs was off. There would be a switch on the side of the wall by the door. When the lights get flicked on, it will light up only to the bottom of the stairs. There would be another light switch at the bottom for the actual basement. The stairs, unlike the rest of the house, look unkempt and creak with every step taken. 

	Downstairs, things look very much like they had back when Riley and Adelaide were in high school. There was a pool table down there, dart board on the wall. Refrigerator in the corner that was usually stocked with various sodas and food for the kids to munch on. Couches were about, chairs, curtains hanging over all the walls, a tv, and then of course, the sound system. Chris had helped install it for Adelaide's parents, he was really into electronics and such back then. The smell was even stronger down there and there was an empty bottle of Strawberry Quick by the turn table at the sound system, the plastic was still cold. 

[color=536d78][b]Grimm, Indiana (Police Station):[/b][/color] Roy chuckled a bit at the Wolverine reference. "Yeah but if I got claws and can heal, then fuck them," he chuckled. Looking over the town he nodded. "God damn, yeah. American Horror Story: Grimm - already fits," he mused as he drove through the town and headed for the police station. "Oh no, not at all. Seems perfectly normal. Does he know anything else?" Pulling up into an empty parking space he looked around. He didn't see the sherriff's car. "Oh this is great..." he muttered under his breath as he turned the car off. Opening the door, a bunch of chex mix fell out of the car and onto the ground. "Heh, oh well, food for squirrels," he added as he stood up and started brushing himself off. 

	Looking around he shut the door and moved to the trunk. Popping it open and pulling out Cecily's bag for her before slamming it shut. "Well, let's go inside and see what we can find out. Maybe someone else took Tim's car or maybe there know where he is if not," he added as he unfastened the clip over his gun. Something wasn't sitting right with him about all of this. "I really don't like this town." Hanging over the bag to Cecily he looked towards the Police Station and the light above the glass doors flickered. "Yeah, I really don't like this place. It's like I walked into a bad horror flick." Glancing towards Cecily he forced a bit of a smile before he continued. "Stay behind me, just in case." Patting her on the shoulder he headed towards the door of the police station.