Hanover looked me over. Grant is driving a beat-up car, of uncertain, but probably late-70s or early-80s "vintage" (to be generous) and he nonchalantly THBUMPS the wheels over the curb and drives down the grass of the park to where a van emblazoned with the insignia of the NYPD is parked. A large section of the park has been all torn up - partly cordoned off from the public by the Public Works Department. A pair of plainclothes lab workers are taking samples from the ground, taking pictures, and other busy-work. A few passersby stop to watch, but it's rather boring. Grant shuts off his car and gets out, ducking under the tape and sauntering across the grass, a cigarette dangling idly from his upper lip. Hanover leans back against a tree, slightly separated from the others, nonchalantly...he looks like he's a rubbernecker, but a polite one, far enough not to be interfering. Grant lights up the cigarette and pushes his sunglasses up his nose a bit, peering down at the (surely) incomprehensible divots, gouges and holes on the ground. "Manetti." he calls, to one of the techs, who looks up. "Oh, hey, Sutton." "What the heck is this gunk down there?" They converse idly about the viscous stuff in the bottom of the hole and seem to come to no real conclusion. Sutton flips through a notebook and makes a few notations. Hanover crosses his arms across his broad chest and watches...just another gawker...that's all... Grant suddenly pauses. He looks up from his notebook. He keeps looking up, up, up - the tree that Hanover is standing under. He takes off his sunglasses. He peers at the tree. His eyes flick across it, then across neighboring trees. He taps his chin. "If Galas, Simms and Perry all saw something growing, and all the other trees have branches broken upwards, how come those branches are broken downwards?" The lab techs have no answer for him. He starts pacing off the length between the few distinct hoofprints in the ruined ground. Hanover notices he's been 'seen'...but makes no show that he has...instead he examines his nails, buffing them on his sleeve. Grant suddenly pauses, turning quickly around, giving the whole area a once-over as if noticing something for the first time. "Be sure you get pictures in all directions." he tells the techs. "Because there's nothing screwed up except right here." Grant's eyes pause on the rubberneckers a moment. Hanover The man before you seems to be somewhere in his early twenties, until you look into his strange, grey-white eyes. They carry a sense of age within them out-of-keeping with his classically sharp, Teutonic features and pugnacious, lantern jaw. His hair is a very dark, almost charcoal grey, odd in one so young, it sweeps back from a high forehead and hangs past his shoulders in a ponytail. Perhaps it's his hair and eyes, but his pale skin seems to carry the merest -hint- of a greyish cast to it as well, though he looks by no means unhealthy. There's something about his expression as well, easy and light for the most part, but there's an intensity in his strange eyes... He wears a tight, deep grey turtleneck that shows off the span of his shoulders and chest. His build is quite muscular, but not bulky, instead there is more a sense of compact power and a catlike ease of movement. The shirt tucks into a pair of close-fitting black jeans, revealing legs to match his upper body. On his feet are a pair of Docs, kept surprisingly well-polished. Over this all he wears a solid black topcoat. Central Park Reservoir -- New York The center of Central Park has many of the Park's most famous features and attractions - dominating this area is the reservoir - a huge body of water, and Manhattan's main water supply. It's enormous, separating the north section from mid-park. Obviously, no swimming takes place there. Other landmarks can also be found here - Cleopatra's Needle - an obelisk, the mate to which is located in London. To the east is the Metropolitan Museum of Art; in the southern regions of this section of the park are the Shakespearian Gardens and Belvedare Castle. Contents: Hanover Obvious exits: East Harlem Morningside Heights Upper East Side Upper West Side Central Park North Central Park South Grant's eyes sweep across Hanover without giving him more than a cursory look. "Okay, I think that's it. Between two and four porters or phasers, one grower that can also shrink back down." he says to the techs, who sort of shrug, like they can't see it. Grant picks over the grass slightly to the side of the ruined area, where the bodies were found, but sees nothing new, apparently. He looks up at the current bunch of rubberneckers. "Anyone here the day this happened?" Wow, you've never seen them scatter so quickly. Hanover, however, doesn't move, nor does he volunteer any information. Grant looks back at Hanover. "How about you, buddy?" he says conversationally. Hanover's response is a slight, almost enigmatic smile and he replies smoothly, in a noticable west German accent "I believe I did, ja." Grant ducks under the tape and approaches. "Oh, yeah?" he says. "Did you see anything?" His tone is very casual, like he's not really paying much attention and has a dozen cases back on his desk exactly like this one. Hanover says, again noncomittally "Oh, some people were eaten, large creatures." he says it like he sees it everyday. Grant nods. "Eaten, you say? How large were they...big as a bear?" Hanover shakes his head, his arms crossing again and looks down at you "Oh, I'd say much larger." Grant nods, like this checks out. "How big?" he says. "Where were you standing?" Hanover replies, pointing then sweeping an arm across the area, his gesture encompassing all the hoofprints and a bit more "Oh, I moved about." Grant nods. "I bet you did." he grins. "So how big do you think these creatures were? Did they just appear out of nowhere?" Hanover cocks his head to the side, as if performing a mental calculation "I'd say about 4 meters...that's about 20 feet to you...and they came out of a large, black, swirling 'gate' of sorts." Grant nods. "4 meters...20 feet..." He makes a note of it. Then he looks back up at Hanover very quickly like he heard something. "Look, I have to get going - do you have some ID and a phone number where I can reach you? I gotta copy this stuff down for the report, I can get the rest of your statement later." Just your typical sloppy harmless New York cop, that's him. Grant mumbles "A little under 10 cubits." to himself suddenly, and makes another hurried note. Hanover nods and extracts a leather wallet from his coat...his ID is that of a resident alien, work-able, basically about permenant... Grant scribbles the information down without comment. You say "Okay, ah, thank you Mr.....Feist? Fist? Thanks." You say "Oh, here's my card. Call me if I forget to call you in the next week or so, okay?" Hanover hesitates before replying to -that- particular statement. Grant hands a dog-eared cheap government-printed card to Hanover. It identifies him as Grant Sutton, Detective, Major Crimes Division." Long distance to Hanover: Grant notes that his power can't detect lies - only relationships. If you're trying to deceive him but telling the technical truth, he detects the deception. If you're trying to get him to the right place but using little white lies to do it, he detects the truth. You paged Hanover with 'And anyway, it -seems- like it's just a formality, that he doesn't really care either way whether you call him or not.'. Hanover finally settles on "I will...consider it." is the best he can do, technically true, he will think about it...and if it doesn't inconvenience him and throws suspicion off, he will. Grant nods, not paying attention any more, apparently. "Thanks again." he ducks back under the tape to sign off on the techs' final report, apparently.