A/N: This is a rewrite of a fanfiction I wrote years ago. This time it's based more in the comic-verse and is less... pedo. Long story short I had a fifteen year old version of my OC hooking up with Abe S. Once I realized how terrible that was I deleted it and rewrote it. So here. If you would like any pronunciation guides, please ask. :)
My family has always been atypical, at best. We can trace our oddness back over a thousand years, with a Priestess of Niamh, Celtic goddess of water. Niamh granted my ancestor the ability to control water and mist, and in exchange, my ancestor would by a vessel on earth for Niamh. This gift was passed from mother to daughter, as long as they worshipped the old gods of the land, and not the new ones. My ancestor promised her this, and the long line of Niamh was born.
My full name is Niamh Anne ni Manannan. Every firstborn daughter in my family has been named Niamh, since the priestess had her first daughter. I tend to go by Anne; it makes things a lot easier at family reunions. Currently, I work at government office in Augusta, Maine as a secretary. It's boring work, mostly paper pushing and filing. I would love to be a field agent in the BPRD, but despite my knowledge in folklore and mythology and my "gift", budget won't allow it. So until then I bide my time in this position. It's boring, but a job is a job and it pays the rent.
April in Augusta was the worst. You never knew if it was going to rain or snow. Today, it was both. In the morning, it had been snow. By the time I left to grab lunch, it was to rain. Now, as I was leaving after a late night, it was snowing again. The plows and sanders were out in full force, but any taxi service was done for the night. Not that I blamed them. Oh well, public transit it was.
I made my way to the bus stop and tried my best to stay warm until the bus came. I was thankful that I had the foresight to put hand warmers in my bag before I left for work. I shoved them in my mittens and stomped my feet to check if I still had feeling. Goddamned bus was late again. Probably stuck behind a plow. At least I was prepped for the cold.
Outside of the plows, there was silence. All of the shops had shut down long ago in favor of going home. I was the only thing braving this mess. Or was I? There was a mewling noise, but it stopped. Probably just the wind going through the alley.
But now there was yelping. It sounded like a puppy in pain. As much I wanted to go home, I couldn't let a puppy stay out in this cold. I ducked down into the alleyway where I thought the noise was coming from. I dug through my back for a flashlight that I was sure I had stuffed in there one day. I found it and shown the light down the alley way. The thin light caught two eyes, a short snout, two paws, and two… flippers?
Oh no way.
No. way.
Not in Maine.
A dobhar chu.
Part of me wanted to flee in terror. Dobhar chus were known was vicious killers and attacked without mercy. But this one was tiny, just a pup, with a huge gash down its side. I set down my bag and flashlight and offered out my hand to it. It crept forward to sniff my hand. I stroked its head and it cooed.
"You poor thing, who did this to you?" I murmured to it, scratching its chin. I took off a glove and summoned water to me (not particularly hard right now). I placed my hand over the wound. I felt the blood coursing through the dobhar chu's veins, rushing the healing process. Muscle and skin knit back together and soon the wound was gone, and a pink scar was in its place. The dobhair chu let out a little bark as it examined the new scar, then licked my hand. I smiled.
"Alright, little one, let's say I take you home and feed you. Just don't tell anyone what you are."
I opened my jacket a little and put the little pup inside. He cooed again and curled up against my chest. I smiled. Once I got over the shock of seeing a dobhar chu, I found he was rather cute. Sort an otter and dog pup mix if you can imagine that. I picked up my bag and turned back to go to the bus stop.
Then I saw Mama Dobhar chu.
They're not so cute when they grow up.
Mama was surrounded by three pups, much larger than the one in my jacket. All of them started to snarl and bare their teeth. It suddenly dawned on me. A bunch of hunters and fishermen have been going missing or found mauled. Mama and pups were the reason why. Now they moved toward residential areas.
Shit.
Mama lunged at me. I instinctively ducked and threw up a shield of snow and water. I ran out of the alley and straight into a big, red wall of something. I bounced back and landed on my butt. I looked up and saw I ran into a big, red demon carrying a very large gun.
"See a big, scary looking otter dog thing?" it asked. I nodded dumbly and pointed back at the alley. The pup inside my jacket squirmed a bit. The demon went off and his companion, a fish guy, offered his hand to me. I took it and stood, a bit dazed at the turn of events. Then I came to another realization.
"BPRD…" I muttered, looking at where the demon went back to the fish man. "You're… You're part of the Bureau…"
That's the last thing I truly remember. I was in a state of shock. I remember making my way into a converted garbage truck, then falling asleep curled up on the seat with the dobhar chu still in my jacket.
