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[Fox]

Matt was rapidly developing a headache, trying to keep his thoughts in order in the face of Mischa's...Mischa-ness and the worryingly-increasing list of pertinent information. "....okay," he said, scowling. "First off, you're calling off whoever you've got stalking your 'problems'. If I've gotta track them down, it's time I'm not spending finding your stabby dude."

 

He paced a bit, wondering how real heroes dealt with this stuff; it was supposed to be busting some drug-seller, not...this. "Shoulda stuck with the ghosts," he muttered.

 

Wait.

 

"You got a list of people who got killed by your murderer?" he asked, glancing up at Mischa. "It'd be somewhere to start, if you don't know where to find 'im. Your Manaka supplier, too - if I were a stabbing psychopath, that'd be a pretty big target. Not gonna feel too bad about them if he beats me there, but I really don't want that trouble. Death's not worth it."

[Brown Dynamite]

"My first supplier worked for Orphis Shipping.  He was knife guy's first victim.  My two best customers were next.  Then three of my competitors who get their route from the same gay.  This man gives me a leetle bit of a heart attack knowing he's lurking around.  I'll call, if you can really put a stop to this crazy guy."  Mischa replied making his self perseverance known.  Carefully reaching for his phone with one hand he'd dial as instructed trying to reassure the youth he wasn't pulling any crazy stunts.

 

"My current guy is very good.  Kenny.  Also works for Orphis.  They're the best ever since their CEO sold all her stocks and ran off in the middle of the night.  So easy to find someone to buy.  This guy was clean before I hired him, no way this crazy guy is going to find him."

 

The audible sound of the call going to voicemail punctuating his sentence.

[Fox]

Even the dog looked depressed, head and ears dropping in kind to match its master's exasperation.

 

Matt drew a hand down his face, wondering if this bad luck was his or Mischa's. Honestly, given how today had gone, it could be either.... "Never find him, huh.You even know where he was, how to find him?" he asked, scowling. "I need something to go on, man, or I'm gonna be stuck in here with you forever. Either tell me where your guy is, or tell me where he was so I can go find what's left of him."

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

 

"The Fens.  Kenny, lives near a no tell motel, name is Good Vibrations.  Eh, eh.  Get it?"  The large man called out especially proud in making the connection with the motel's name.  Oddly seeking appreciation from the youth that wanted little to nothing to do with him.  Nervously, trying to get on the teen's good side.  His expression made it clear he wasn't sure that the boy and dog could actually stop the "stabby guy", but one didn't have to be a genius to see the wheels turning in his head.  'The sooner this guy leaves, the sooner he's no longer standing in my appartment pointing a gun at me'.

 

With a bit hesistancy, Mischa actually finished off with the information that Matt could actually use.  "House number 1442."  Upon rattnig out his supplier's location, Mischa warily finished dialing the number on his cell phone.  Getting set to call off his own attack dog from hunting the kids from earlier down.  "Nicolai! Leetle brats live tonight, I have a friend who will take care of the thing.  Niet, don't tell him.  Is no problem." 

 

 

[Fox]

Matt eyed Mischa with unease until his dog broke the silence, scratching at the man's front door. "....yeah, okay," he said, relaxing a bit. "Guess I've got a guy to visit. Here."

 

He put the heat ray down and gently kicked it to the other side of the room - way from himself, sure, but away from Mischa, too. "Don't really like these things. Keep it in case your stabber finds you before I find him. C'mon, Fang. Time to go for a run."

 

His dog gave a sharp, happy bark as they made their way out, leaving the drug-peddler behind and jogging their way toward the Fens with a grim determination and a sincere hope that no one else would stop them in an alley.

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey

Saturday November 14th, 2015

1:05 AM

 

Matt was in fact not stopped by any other crazed attackers along the way.  But, running around all night did provide an entirely different set of problems.  By the time he had arrived in the Fens "Kenny's" home had a police sticker plastered on it, furthermore there were some signs of yellow tape around the hose signifying that at one point a crime scene unit was in the area.

 

A quick scan of the area revealed that was no longer the case.  Not a policeman in sight.  Seemingly dispersing quickly on to other matters.  The sticker on the door of the residence serving to show if someone tampers with it while they're gone.  The lack of law enforcement didn't mean there wasn't a crowd.  Curious onlookers had gathered.  Some people regaling the other lookie loos with tales of what had occurred earlier.

 

[Fox]

"....yeah, okay. Saw that coming," Matt muttered as he saw the crowd, eyeing the police tape with a little more familiarity than he'd have liked. "C'mon. Let's see what the side without the people looks like."

 

As casually as he was able, Matt and his companion made their way down the sidewalk and around the side of the block. He was, by all appearances, just a kid walking his dog...albeit, a kid with intent to trespass on a crime scene, and one with much sharper ears than a human was supposed to have. Not to mention the ears on the dog, which weren't just for show....

 

He tried to glean what he could from the not-too-distant crowd's chatter while he figured out how to get to the back of the house unseen.

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

 

Canines interacted with the world with their sense of smell.  A bloodhound had sixty times the smell receptors of a human, even a dachshund had twenty five times the smell receptors of man.  Matt was not a canine by any estimation.  Yet he, and his canine companion, was far and away from the average nasally challenged layperson.  As such traveling to the rear of the house provided not only unfettered access to an uninspiring view, it also provided access to an assortment of scents. 

 

Such knowledge didn't pinpoint which scent belong to whatever assailant had been here earlier.  But, no less than two people had moved about using a window in the rear.  One of those two smelling very familiar...

[Fox]

Matt's dog sniffed at the air, whining, and Matt himself frowned. "Yeah, I smell it too. ....can't be right, though. Remember 'em both, just in case - at least one of them's our guy."

 

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his mask to tie it around his face. No sense in causing extra trouble if the police came back - some kid hero poking around was going to be a lot less concerning than some idiot civilian. Hopefully.

 

The dog took the opportunity to change, too, albeit more literally - like a struck match, its mundane disguise burned way in black smoke and shadow, eyes like burning coals eyeing the window. "Scents rarely lie, Howl," it advised.

 

"Yeah, well. Here's to hoping." Grim dissolved into smoke of his own, billowing through the window to land lightly on the other side; his dog wasn't far behind. "Anyone home?" he called out, peering around. "Haven't met a murder yet who didn't stick around, so I'm hoping you're still here, rather than...anywhere else."

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

 

Matt didn't get an answer as he entered the dwelling.  At least not verbally.  But, his Death Awareness had honed in to the center of the room.  There was a young man sitting on the ground.  Silently staring at the wall.   A once white wall that had taken some sort of frightful combination of green and brown after years of abuse.

 

To speak nothing of the state of the upturned furniture, damaged electronics, and the overall ragged state of the rest of the house.  The transparent spirit looked up at the psychopomp.  And then silently resumed his staring at the wall.  His eyes focused on one spot with a laser like focus.

 

Whatever the case may be.  Aside from the restless spirit, the house seemed abandoned.  If there were any other residents to the house they left with the police a good while ago.

 

[Fox]

"Yeah, thought so."

 

Grim sighed, softly walking over to the center of the room and plopping down cross-legged, close enough to the spirit to have a friendly chat but trying very hard to not invade his personal space. His dog, for its part, seemed more intent on dropping its head into its master's lap for ear-scratches than anything else going on, though it kept a watchful eye on the house's remaining occupant.

 

"Sucks, right?" Grim's attention was on the wall, rather than the spirit, but he inclined his head that way. "Dying? Never been a ghost, but I've done the dying part. Hurts like hell, depending on how you go, and then, what, you're stuck here. Some folks like it, but...I dunno. I guess if I got my butt killed I'd probably want to stick around, too."

 

He cocked his head, frowning. "So...what're we lookin' at, here? Missing picture? Secrets of the afterlife hidden under a couple inches of mold?"

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

 

"Wall safe.  Hidden, between the studs.  I was saving up money.  I didn't want this job."  He croaked.  A dryness to his voice, despite the fact that his throat certainly lacked the solidness needed to feel dry in the first place.  "I was going to make something of myself.  Me and my girl, we were going to get out from the Fens."

 

"Best of two bad choices.  They're still bad choices though."  The spirit said.  Shaking his head in frustration.  "I didn't even tell her about the money.  Told that crazy guy with the muscles who killed me.  Begging him not to.  He didn't care. It was all for nothing.  My life was all for nothing."

 

His head finally drifted away from the false wall that apparently housed a safe.  "Who are you anyways?"

[Fox]

"Grim," he answered, though the name didn't roll off his tongue like it was well- or oft-used. "I'm...man, I dunno. Mostly I help people like you, and try to stop violent idiots from making more people like you. The dead deserve to rest, y'know? And people don't deserve to die too early. And not like this."

 

He sighed, scratching his dog behind the ear; the creature issued an encouraging grumble, smoke-like fur rippling in a wind nobody else could feel. "Speakin' of which, I'm trying to find the guy who got you. If you can tell me what you know and how to find him, where he was going, I'll do what I can to bring him down before he gets anyone else. You really oughta think about moving on, too - I can help with that, or the dog can. Take you where you're going. Sounds like you deserve some of that peace they're always preaching about - and if it helps, and you can tell me who she is, got a picture or something, I'll try to make sure your girl knows where the money is. Better'n leaving it for some construction company to find. ....I know what it's like to want out of the Fens."

[Brown Dynamite]

GM

 

"I don't really know who he was.  Guy was built like a mack truck and hit like one too.  I cut him with his knife.  But he still threw me around the place with one hand.  He was looking for the guy I was moonlighting for.  I...looked the other way when shipments of Manaka root came in.  And it made into the hands of less than reputable street chemist.  This general, or at least he says he's a general, calls all the shots.  As in you say no to him you get shot.  I get the feeling this guy said no to him at some point.  I can give you the general address it's in the woods though."

 

The distraught deceased looked over the dog.  Obviously contemplating Grim's offer to move on.  It wasn't hard to read the emotions on his face.  One didn't just accept it was all over in seconds.  Let alone believe that moving on was as easy as walking a dog.  Or being walked by a dog as it were.  "Lucy.  Her name is Lucy.  Please make sure she gets that money."

[Fox]

"I'll do whatever I can," Grim promised, with a teenager's sincerity and all the gravity of someone who'd dealt with the dead far too often. "Shouldn't be too hard to track down if she spent a lot of time here - though if you've got a phone number for her to go with that address in the woods, I'd take it."

 

He got to his feet, dog huffing in annoyance at the loss of its head scratches. "And of course it'd be in the woods," he wryly conceded, popping his back. "Been all over the city, what's a trip out into the trees? Gotta take the dogs out on a run anyway, or they go stir-crazy."