Donovan cranes (heh) his neck to try and examines the body as much as he can without actually moving past the cops. No signs of struggle or even anticipating that attack. Its like he didn't know he was being attacked until the pain hit him. And yet...he lays forward, his stride through the rain carrying him and pushing him forward. Conclusion, he wasn't even aware of the attack, and if no one saw the attack happen before he collapsed, it seems that the attack itself wasn't natural...
Luke, your gaze lands upon a young Asian teen in skinny jeans and windbreaker, holding a small umbrella extended over him. He isn't mortified per se, but oddly taken aback, perhaps even morbidly curious.
He's startled as he realizes you're addressing him.
"I mean..he was walking, right? And he just...grabbed his chest and fell over. I swear that was it."
Zenna tries to make her inner Mythos resonate with the crowd, but the complete fascination and excitement of the crowd are overriding any real need she may sense here. She looks at the window, and see's Donovan trying his past to peer past the police line.
Frederick turns to a man dressed in a grey jacket, buzzed hair, waiting under a nearby awning rather than use an umbrella. He shrugs.
"Some guy fell over dead from what I heard. No one knows why though."
He gives you a look, elevator eyes, and asks "You're old man Stern right? The collector?."
About an hour later, you all meet back up to discuss the....incident your new job surprisingly came with.
"So, from what I can tell, there isn't any signs of assaults by weapon. We're probably looking at something mystical here. Still, I'm betting that there are some rules to it's ability: it probably has to either be able to see you, or know your name, unless this creature or person was just attacking a random person. I think for my part, I'm going to check the surrounding rooftops, and see if I can find any signs of someone being up on them."
"It could've been poison, although I doubt it. The coroner will give me a call as soon as she's done with the autopsy - we'll know more then."
Wade nods when Donovan finishes. "Good idea. I'll take a walk around the neighborhood, see if anyone saw anything useful."
"I think I'll go and see the boy's father - if someone was willing to kill the kid, odds are they'll want to go after him, too. I'd like to get him somewhere safe..." Luke hangs his head. "Or look around if it's already too late. There has to be a connection there, otherwise I doubt there would be a motive."
Shifting somewhat uncomfortably, Fredrick leans slightly towards Luke as he says
"I think that I shall accompany you to meet Mark's father. After all, we wouldn't want anyone of us to come up against this unknown individual by themselves."
Zenna asks Wade if he minds having her tag along.
"Sure, I don't mind. You can be a cadet," agrees Wade. "And keep close just in case."
Will do.
It's late. Late enough for the throng of partying teens to thin to the hungover and the stragglers, walking through the puddles on the sidewalk. The rain has lightened to a faint drizzle, almost a mist really. Still, way up here Donovan can smell the cheap booze and easy money that downtown has promised to the younger generations from decades long ago. A light chill rushes your face in the night wind as you check the time.
11:24pm.
Your sister will be getting off her shift soon, might wonder where you've been too. Hopefully won't come to that. She means well, but she's still a sleeper. She literally can't understand the things you deal with these days, and maybe for the better.
From all the way up here, ten stories by your count, there doesn't seem to be much at first glance.
You might find something if you take a bit more time to...
*clck*
Your eyes shoot to the door leading back into the office building your standing on, its handle jiggling as you hear someone slot a key into the lock from the other side, ready to open it. The night guard shouldn't be here so early...
=========================================================================== =======================
Wade and Zenna are hitting the pavement, avoiding the occasional groups of students. A giggling group of girls waiting for a taxi stops your path momentarily in front of a large nightclub, The Temple. On the outside, its marble-like detailing gives a high-class impression, and definitely a place where those with money went to have some fun.
A phone rings with a familiar ringtone, and Wade looks to see its the forensic coroner on the force.
"It's his heart Wade!" the raspy voice exclaims on the other side. "His damn heart is gone! Ripped out completely!"
Forensic coroner Frank N. Steinman is a Rift that you've known and worked with on the force. He works with the Mist to help explain the unexplainable to sleepers and is no doubt currently fabricating a fake heart with a gunshot wound in it.
Zenna, as Wade is taking his call, your eyes wander.
There are a few homeless folks here and there, driven off by bouncers and doormen to not scare off the customers, but taking up places in the occasional alleyway and street corner. You can feel their hunger, their longing, not strong enough to draw you through the Mist, but enough that it's noticeable and hard to ignore.
You and Wade have stopped under a street lamp, its yellowed light casting your shadows away. Your eyes follow along with your own shadow up to some figures in the distance.
There's the doorman in a suit, young and mexican descent, his shaved head gives off a cold and stoic figure, and he has the body to back up his job. And you sense he needs....a hug.
There's an Uber driver, an older caucasian woman, smoking as she rest against the side of her car. She looks grumpy, but is slowly relaxing. You sense she needs...sleep.
And then there's the young Spanish girl in a fashionable dress, she's on her phone, texting and typing something. Her furrowed brow gives off a worried expression and she's biting her lower lip. You sense she needs...a safe place.
And then...you feel yourself being drawn to one of them.
=========================================================================== =======================
The walk to the Sapataro home takes Luke and Frederick further and further from the bright lights and busy crowds and into the more business and development section of the downtown. Still, it wasn't too far from the bustling and hustling younger crowd, and the showtunes of the theatre district could be heard if you strained your ear hard enough.
The moon was out tonight, and the lights of the two-story building of Sapataro Shoes were off. It was as modest as Mark made it out to be, and through the front windows, you can see all manner of shoes, boots, and heels of varying design. Its almost rustic, the sense of a small store owner's peace and earnest prosperity. Still, the doors are locked, and there isn't a trace of light as far as you can see.
Frederick, your eyes pick up the keen craftsmanship of the window displayed models, the tight binding of the supple leather and the intricate work of the patterns. These are quality goods by far. Luke, you look around the shop, taking in the wooden floorboards, the odd small plush chairs for fittings, the countertop at the far back with small narrow staircase behind it, and the small door at the other side of the back wall, firmly shut.
After leaving the group huddle, Donovan enters the tallest nearby building, relying on his confident yet calm stride to take him past the guard desk (the guard at the desk really isn't paying any attention to him anyway, as he is watching the crowd outside to try and figure out what is going on). He makes his way past the bank of elevators and to the stairwell.
Arriving at the top shortly thereafter, Donovan thinks to himself I barely felt that. I guess I am stronger now.
arriving at the top, Donovan first checks the alarm on the door but he finds it disabled. Guess one of the night crew comes up here to smoke he thinks to himself as he exits onto the roof. He takes a quick peek down below, and then is just starting to take a look around when the door begins to open.
As it does, the world around him slows to a crawl: he hears the tumblers click one by one as loudly as someone using an old typewriter in an empty room; The rain slows, and he can make out individual drops as the slide slooowly to the ground.
Taking advantage of his heightened perception, he moves to the side of the doorway that will be blocked by the door when it opens and waits just around the corner from the door itself, watching to see who [I]or what[I] he thinks to himself while suppressing a shudder, will come out.
Without realizing it, he has drawn a knife and holding it in his dominate hand in a reverse grip, with the blade resting against his forearm.
Zenna, wondering if she can find something out (or at least help someone) while Wade is on the phone, holds up a finger to him, as if to say "I'll be right back."
Instead of trying to direct her pull, she then opens herself up to the greatest need, focusing on hopefully teleporting the short distance into a shadow or unoccupied doorway so as not to scare anyone to death, and allowing her auto-chameleon shapeshifting to subtly change her facial features and skin tone to whatever will help the person feel most comfortable. It might change her more than that, but she is starting to understand that's part of being whoever she now is, and is willing to take the risk.
It takes Wade a couple of seconds to process what he just heard.
"Steinman, what do you mean ripped out? Not cut out? What the hell can even do that?"
He tries not to let Zenna out of sight while talking on the phone, which might de difficult, given her abilities.
"Probably lives on the second floor. Maybe asleep by now, judging from the light." Luke looked around the building.
"We could break in." Luke notes, biting his lower lip. "I'd rather not. But if he's in danger, I don't know if we have a choice."
Donovan can barely notice the movements he's making, readying his muscles to strike, waiting for the victim to walk into view. The cold night air seems to disappear as even sound vanishes from Donovan's senses. All that's left is him, and the kill....
"F+&&! I hate this job!"
The sudden profane yell catches you off guard as the figure moves into view. He's wearing a grey jumpsuit and judging from his utility belt he seems to be some sort of handyman or custodial staff. His wiry grey hair is cut short and his large Adam's apple seems to bob as the man yawns.
And then he glances in your direction.
Cursing loudly, he drops his cigarettes in surprise, them landing in a small puddle, eliciting even more curses.
"The f+!* are you doing up here?" he asks, eyeing you suspiciously. The nametag sewed onto the front of his jumpsuit reads Eugene and his lanky frame stoops down to collect his now soggy tobacco before standing again, waiting for your reply.
=======================================================================
Zenna emerges from the dark lit alley and feels herself walking swiftly. Her normal hair has grown bouncy and curly, and her skin has darkened into an earthy tone. The sway in her hips becomes more pronounced as her chin rises a few degrees higher, confidence swelling from....somewhere.
She marches up to the door at the club and without a moment's hesitation, flings her arms around the doorman, who looks utterly shocked.
As you pull away, he just looks at you, dumbfounded. This boulder of a man seems to fold in on himself, as if trying to remove himself from your hold. He looks scared, his face shaking no as he mouths the words.
And then....
then you say the words that come to lips, fueled by his need, his life-consuming need to hear you say something.
"I forgive you."
That is when he breaks. He turns into a mess of a man on the pavement, drawing attention from everyone in the nearby area. You can feel his need growing stronger in response to your actions, something that happens when a need is filled and it starts to revel in its completion.
And then the spell breaks on you.
You're back to normal, still holding this sobbing man who can't pull himself together, about a dozen people staring at you. If they're sleepers, the Mist will make an excuse for what they saw, but this situation is very real.
========================================================================
Wade, you can hear the raspy excitement on the other end of the phone and almost see Steinman walking all around his lab, taking lumps of clay and molding the replacement heart as he talks excitedly.
"Come on Walton! You know I don't mince words, just bodies!" his harsh laugh applauding his own joke.
"The trauma to the remaining blood vessels are as if they have been actually pulled from the body. But! But!"
And he grows even more excited.
"The dermal layer above the heart was completely intact! Not a single laceration! It was as if his heart was inside his body, and someone ripped it out without actually breaking through the chest! Amazing!"
========================================================================
The building itself, Luke notices, is sandwiched between two much larger buildings. However, unlike normal apartments and such, there is no side entrance. Given its old construction, you feel as if this section that hasn't been renovated didn't meet fire code, but hasn't been updated to it yet. The owner and son most likely entered and exited through the front door.
"Oh, thank god!" says Donovan as he steps from the corner, palming the knife back into it's sheath as he does. "I've been trapped up here for hours, since I'm the new guy, the people from my office thought it would be fun."
"Sorry about scaring you there. I was hoping to get the jump on one of them and punch him in the face for leaving me up here. Thank you again!"
Donovan moves towards the man as he does and quickly takes his hand and begins shaking it profusely, as though truly relieved.
Zenna strokes the man's hair, motioning people away with waves of her head and glares, each in turn, pleading with her eyes for privacy, and her eyebrows clearly threatening that something bad will happen if people get in the middle of this clearly personal moment.
She considers disengaging before the man realizes that she isn't his lost loved one (guessing by his reaction), but she glances down the street at Wade, and instead tries to help their cause. She stays until he is able to look up, and when he discovers that it isn't who he thought, she says
Sorry. I'm a psychic. Takes me over sometimes. I don't even remember what happened. Are you okay?
... Then to distract him from his own possible embarrassment, and just in case he vaguely recognizes her real face and starts to make the connection, she goes all business.
I was actually in the area today working on an investigation. Do you know Mark Sapataro, and did you see him earlier today?
After listening to whatever he has to say, good or bad, she looks to see if the Spanish girl is still around. If she is, she approaches her and asks her if she has seen Mark Sapataro. Whatever the answer, she gives her money to get a taxi and a room for the night as appreciation for the information. If the Uber driver is still there, she gives the girl an extra hundred to tip that woman, so she can take the rest of the night off. If questioned, she just gives the explanation "I'm a psychic."
She likes this investigation thing. Makes it so much easier to help people when you have an excuse.
She makes her way back to Wade if he hasn't given up on her in the meantime.
"No, I wouldn't want to break in either. It would make them distrust us, and would just be generally rude." Craning his neck slightly as he looks towards the upper floor, he rubs at the back of his neck for continuing. "If nothing else, I guess we could simply ring the doorbell and hope nobody is to asleep. Or we could try meeting up with the others before returning, lending us some legal support for waking them up this late at night."
"I guess we just have to hope he's home. Don't say anything about his son - especially his death. I suspect he'll hear about it soon anyway, and I'd rather not have to console a crying father while trying to ask him something." While it was unethical, sure, it was the truth. Grieving could be postponed for the moment.
Luke places his finger on the doorbell, pushing it twice in succession for good measure.
The custodian seems apprehensive at first but finds himself nodding along with your words. His hand is rough and course but firmly grasps yours in return as you relate your experience.
"S!@*, and I thought I was having a bad night. You must be freezing up here! Come on, I'll make you a cup of coffee. and I can unlock the private bathroom with a shower, got to clean it anyway."
He relates to you, someone kicked by the powers above, and genuinely wants to help you. The building you're on is a corporate building, though not one of the largest. To have so many amenities, it seems to have some significant backing.
=======================================================================
It was a euphoric, but painful sensation. Zenna could help people, but there was only one of her, and so much pain, need and desire in the world.
It's a good ten minutes before his sobs become silent, and he is able to regain some level of composure. You'd think he'd be embarrassed, but such powerful tears tire a man out, and he looks up to you.
"I'm sorry, you...you look like someone I know."
He pauses.
"Someone I used to know," he corrects himself, getting up to his feet.
The front of his clothing is a mess, and you can see his head scrunch up in pain from the strain of his earlier sobbing.
Can Sense Need I'll allow for what you did for him,
Desire to Promote Unity: I think this tag might need to change. It should be a skill or item according to the examples of the rules. Otherwise, it might apply to any positive interaction with an npc. The question to prompt the tag is: WHAT DO YOU NEED MOST IN ORDER TO CARRY OUT YOUR MISSION?
Popularity: Do you want to establish that most people will recognize you on sight then? If so, this definitely applies.
A look of recognition crosses the doorman's face.
'Sapataro's kid? Yeah, he helped me get fitted for a pair of shoes for the job." he gestures to his feet, donned with very nice, but modest, leather shoes.
"Old Man Sapataro's gonna be heartbroken when he hears...Didn't want Mark working at his part-time job at Red John's Kitchen at the corner over there."
He also points out a restaurant (currently closed) with a large neon sign of steak, fire, and spitroast on it.
=========================================================================== ==============
Luke rings the bell multiple times, the chime ringing in the main room and, what you suspect, further into the private residence section.
No reply. Several more attempts also render no response at the door.
Before Luke and Frederick can resume talks of what they plan to do, a bright beam of light shines on both of them.
"'Scuse me, fellas?" A police officer, a bit heavyset as he pulls up his belt, looks to the two of you.
"We got a few calls down at the station that there were a couple shady characters loitering around Sapataro's place. We didn't think much of it the last few nights, but three is pushing your luck here. I'm gonna have to ask you to keep moving along, alright?"
Zenna thanks the man and returns to Wade, telling him what she learned.
"Great. That's exactly what we need - someone who can rip people's heart out without anybody's noticing." Wade shakes his head and lets out a heavy and sigh. "I bet they'll drop this case on my desk. If that's the case, there's going to be a lot of maneuvering."
He nods to Zenna, gestures towards Red John's Kitchen and stars walking.
"Thanks for the call, Steinman. I have to go now, but I'll keep in touch in case I find anything interesting."
Luke chuckles, hoping to defuse the situation. "Sorry, officer. Just wanted to talk to Sapataro, nothing illegal. Can't say much of the other nights, this is the first time I've been here. Apologies if we woke anyone up."
Although, Luke thinks, I'd better make a mental note of that.
"Thanks man, you're a real lifesaver."
As the two men walk down the stairs, Donovan will ask "So, what was going on with the police downstairs? I saw them show up, but since I couldn't really make anything out I stopped paying attention."
Zenna accompanies Wade to Red John's Kitchen.
Zenna and Wade make their way to Red John's Kitchen to find it closed for the night. through the glass they can see an iron and wood aesthetic that seems to scream "MANLY." it even has a small hearth that seems to pump the smells of its many grills and stoves into the surrounding air, a smart tactic to lure in customers.
But it is closed, and as you check the time, you find midnight already past.
========================================================================
"Right....talk to Sapataro huh?"
The officer addressing Luke and Frederick looks suspicious, but his hand does move away from belt.
"Well, why don't you two come back tomorrow during business hours, hmm? Sapataro's an old man, and I doubt whatever you need to tell can wait when he's fully rested.
He has a stern look in his eye that this conversation is over, and you two should be heading on your way.
========================================================================
"I was just getting into work, but yeah man, that was crazy. Some kid just went and keeled over. Heard it was drugs or something. Maybe an ex-girlfriend had a hit on him."
You get the sense that Eugene the custodian has more fun with the wild and crazy explanations rather than what he thinks probably happened. If only he wasn't a sleeper, he could never imagine what actually occurred.
Eugene does get you set up though, while you're showering and then getting warmed up, he spends the time drying your clothes under hand dryers. He really does seem like a good guy, though a bit crass and rough around the edges.
As he escorts you at, he says that if your coworkers pull a stunt like that again, he'll piss in the coffee for you. A trustworthy ally indeed.
========================================================================
"Thanks, but after this I think I'm going to look for another job. I don't mind a bit of hazing, but this was way over the line."
Donovan will stick out his hand and say "I have to say, though, Eugene, you are a stand up individual. I wish you nothing but the best!"
Donovan will then make his way out into the city, disaster having been narrowly averted.
When everyone gathers at their base of operations, Wade retells them about his findings.
"So, what we have on our hands, is an unsub capable of ripping the hearts out without breaking the ribcage. This is a highly disturbing turn of event. That was about the murder."
"Zenna also found out that the victim worked at Red John's Kitchen, and that his father didn't want him there." Wade nods to Zenna. "We were late yesterday and the place was closed, so I'd like to visit it today."
"That is all from me."
"So I couldn't really find anything on the roof of the building I was on or the immediate surrounding buildings, but I still think our best bet is that this ability requires sight."
"Wade, have there been any other heart attacks recently? We should check on them just to be sure, as from what I understand, they don't usually do an autopsy on people that die of natural causes."
Luke muses to himself. This power sounds similar to my own, only the application is stealing hearts rather than objects.
"Fredrick and I tried to get in contact with the boy's father, but found little success. We were stopped by an officer who found us suspicious. More importantly, he said that someone had been waiting in front of his house the last two days, not just when we got there."
"I think we should investigate further on that front. In addition, I'd like to know exactly from what 'ripping out hearts' comes from. It seems pretty unique."
I don't have anything to add to what Wade said. I'll accompany him again to check that lead.
And so the group, having confirmed their findings with each other, the group split off to cover more ground and continue up on the leads that each had discovered.
Red John's Kitchen isn't quite open for business at the time of 9:30 am, but the workers inside are getting ready for the day's shift. Even now you can smell the fresh cut meats from the vents around the restaurant.
Approaching the door, a hostess opens as she notices you standing there.
"I'm sorry, we're still not open yet, but I can take a reservation if you'd like?"
She's cute, most likely a college student working to pay her student loans off before the full weight of them hit her. Like all the other workers, she's wearing black apron, and plaid-red button up underneath, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She smiles politely and waits for Luke or Zenna to respond.
====================================================================
Luke treads down the familiar sidewalk of last night and finds that the morning crowd is somewhat sparse. The throngs of young adults that filled the sidewalks have been replaced with suits and ties, folks heading to the large skyscraper business buildings of downtown.
And in the middle of all the bustle is the quaint shop of Mr. Sapataro. You peer in the window, and see an elderly gentleman helping a young couple in the room as he fits a leather shoe on the young man's foot.
His white hair is sparse everywhere but his chin, as the white wisps drop past his button shirt collar. Suspenders are what hold up his pants, though they give off the impression of squeezing him as his crooked back prominently displays the spinal bones of his back. The shoes he wears are an impeccable brown Oxford, though the design has been played with, a somewhat elegant embellishment. And then there's his smile. It's the smile of someone doing what they love, and wanting nothing more.
"So I'm going to create a database of recent heart attacks and see if anything stands out."
Rolling up his proverbial sleeves, Donovan got to work on what he had dubbed their "bat computer", which was basically a desktop that they had installed in their base.
He started pulling in obituary data limited to the city and began looking for people under the age of 50. He also set up an alert to notify him of any more deaths that met his criteria.
[dice=Power
Luke turns away from the window for a moment, warily checking for the police officer who stopped him yesterday. Deep breaths. He thinks to himself, before opening the door. He looks around to browse, grateful to get a better look at the shoes. They were a fine quality, enough so that Luke considered purchasing some. But at the moment, Luke needed to ask questions, not prices.
Luke waits until the couple leaves, both to be polite and to ensure he can talk privately with Mr.Sapataro. Seeing the man alone, he approaches briskly.
"Mr.Sapataro, I assume?"
Fredrick will have accompanied Luke back to Sapataro Shoes, wishing to speak more with Mr. Sapataro. However, upon seeing the shoes in the light of day, he will walk over and look at them closer. For now, he is content to let Luke speak with Mr. Sapataro, but is still listening to their conversation.
Zenna responds to the hostess, flashing her a smile and saying
Oh wow, it smells great in there. We're not actually here for the food though. Is the owner of the restaurant here?
She hopes she will let them in without Wade flashing his badge, but isn't sure how likely it is.
Wade smile and looks around. "See, I'm in town for a few days, and I hear my old friend runs a restaurant and haven't told me. So I decided to see the place myself and reminisce about our good old university days."
It's a long-shot, but let's hope the owner is about my age.
Donovan gets to work, a fresh and piping hot mug on the desk as he clicked and typed, and waited through the endless progress bars as the computer compiled the information. He had to be careful and sparing with using the database. While it had access to the local hospital and police records, the access had to be minimal to avoid having their backdoor connection.
====================================================================
Frederick, looking at the the shoes you get that same feeling of last night. These are quality goods, and you can almost feel the love that went into each stitch of the leather. It stirs something in you. Not greed....no...but a sort of appreciation and respect. But make no mistake, there is a longing inside you, a wanting, however distant.
Luke makes his way over to Mr. Sapataro who has walked out the latest customer out the door, a new owner of leather shoes.
"I do apologize for the weight," he says as he cleans up some of the other options the young man was trying on. He sets them on the old countertop and turns to meet you, a smile on his face
"How can I help you today? Are you looking for some new shoes? Something a bit more comfortable when performing surgery, eh?"
He chuckles, an almost Santa Claus vibe emanating from him.
====================================================================
The hostess, her nametag says Ellie, gives you a polite smile. Even with Wade's beguiling voice, she only hesitates for a moment, before replying.
"I'm sorry, but we're still setting up for the lunch hour. He's filling in for an employee that hasn't shown up for his shift. But I can let him know you stopped by, Mr....?"
Ellie, is it Mark Sapataro that is missing? That's what we need to talk to your boss about. It's important, or I promise we wouldn't be bothering any of you.
Luke smiles. "I'm afraid not today. My friend and I would like to ask you a few questions, if we could."
"I've heard that this shop has seen more than a few offers - like someone is pretty interested in buying it." Luke says. "Does that happen to be true?"
Just as Wade wants to say his name and flash a badge, he stops, as Zenna goes straight to the point.
Feeling the longing building inside him as he examines the various shoes on display, Fredrick will force himself to temporarily turn away from them. Walking up beside Luke, he says "Well, I would certainly appreciate a new pair of shoes. Maybe even two!" Chuckling slightly, he continue, "But before that, my friend should finish asking his questions."
Donovan scans the results of the computer as it rushes through the archived files of both the police department and the local hospitals. Unfortunately, the list is rather empty as the keywords of "missing" heart" and "death do not trigger anything other than a few house burglaries where the robber had a heart attack, but very much still a heart.
Yet, in a broader search, you do get a partial report filed by a newcomer to the police force, Detective Randy Sinclair, who reported a suicide victim may have been a target for a criminal organization as their entire spine was missing. No sutures or incisions could explain it.
Then....
A Panic warning flashes across the screen as the computer turns itself off, a countermeasure in place to hide it when someone detects an intursion in the system. You aren't sure whether its the hospital or police force IT team, but someone definitely caught your foray into the networks. For at the next couple days, you should let your system automatically relocate itself so your net ID and IP will be fresh and not actively searched for.
=========================================================================== ================================
Ellie frowns.
"I'm not the one to ask, but if you're so insistent, I can grab the boss. Hold on..."
Ellie walks to the kitchen area, and judging from the way her shoulders rise and fall, she's taking a few deep breaths before entering and distubing the boss.
All is quiet except for the clatter of silverware and plates, sometimes the odd whoosh of a fed fire, but eventually a balding man looking in his late 50s emerges from the kitchen. He's not smilling. In his hand is a medium sized knife, chunks of meat still on its gleaming edge.
He wipes the sweat from his brow with a sleeve revealing a darkly stained armpit before leaning against the hostess stand and directing his full attention to both Zenna and Wade.
"You work for Zaine Powers?" he asks, making a single sniff like a bad cold sucking up some snot. "I told him, I'm not interested."
=========================================================================== ================================
Mr. Sapataro smiles a bit weakly, and chuckles.
"So many people too busy trying to make more money." he says simply, and nods. "Yes, a Mr. Powers has been by recently. Bought over a dozen pairs and made an offer ont he place. He's been rather persistent, but I could never sell."
Mr. Sapataro turns to survey the old wood of the floos, he breathes in the smell of fresh leather, and his eyes reflect the slightly dimmer yellow hue of the hanging lights overhead.
"Now you boys didn't come all the way over here just to hear an old man talk about business that'll never happen. Please!"
Before you both know what's happened, you find yourselves sitting across from each other. Frederick, you have a lovely brown leather oxford on, its pattern almost scale-like in the innerfolds. Luke, You are currently being fitted for some black leathers, the shiny leather an impeccable layer of quality.
Donovan is in the middle of sending Wade a text when he sees the warning. flipping the switch on the power strip immediately shuts down both the modem and the computer.
Someone in either the Police Department or Coroner's office knows what they're doing. Thinks Donovan as he removes the modem entirely from his machine then boots up his computer. he throws a copy of all the logs on a thumb drive then powers his computer back down and gets out a power drill, which he uses to drill through the hard drive of his computer. He then does the same thing to his modem, before collecting both and taking them down the subway tunnel and dumping them there.
Picking up his phone again, he finishes his text to Wade and presses Send.
Hey, you know a guy by the name of Detective Randy Sinclair? Also, You should get some milk for the clubhouse before coming back.
Donovan will then send a similar text to the rest of the group, in-between preparing a welcoming party in case someone managed to get their actual location from the system intrusion. He secures two of the entrances, and gets a good firing position on the third, laying out a few different weapons in preparation for a firefight.
The last thing he does is kill power to the base, so that the abandoned station behind him is a darkened area. He then sits and patiently waits for anyone to come looking.
"No, we're not. We'd like to speak to you about Mark Sapataro. Is there someplace we can speak privately?"
Zenna says nothing at this point, just going along with Wade's lead.
Luke smiles, liking the fit of the leather. "Amazing. Where did you find shoes like these?"
This isn't the first time Donovan's had to burn tech equipment, and it probably wasn't going to be the last. Still, it was better safe than sorry, and Donovan prepares himself for the worst.
====================================================================
The nametag splotched with dried red fat specks reads "Ned", a detail you notice as Ned closes the door to his office. It's a small almost cubicle-like room, with enough space for an old metal desk, some shelves, a printer/fax beeping on occasion, and a small cube of a television on a stool.
Ned clears the desk of some documents, quickly stashing the papers in his desk before locking it.
"Alright, what's all this about?"
Most of his sweat has dried by now, the square fan next to his desk blowing a cooling breeze onto him.
====================================================================
"Made them.." Mr. Sapataro says almost absentmindedly as he finishes the last bit of shine as he rubs some sort of cream onto the tops of the shoes.
"There! he says. With a smile and a slight groan, he straightens his posture.
"An old family recipe. Any sort of water, solution, or what have you slips right off! Good for the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker."
He chuckles at his own wordplay.