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Monday night, after purchasing a 1998 Toyota Camry for my Private Investigations firm (but registered to a fake company and essentially meant as wheels for Riley), I parked the car about a block away from the Walker safehouse. Nearly bumped into Clare when I exited the car, and as we just started talking with one another, a bunch of hoodlums across the street started harassing this bum--who turned out to be dead. So when he toppled over, they all ran. I briefly scanned the area before heading over and might have gotten a faint whiff of Paradox in the area--to faint to be sure. I think, maybe, bad luck caught up to the poor guy. I ushered Clarice on her way, then I called the police and helped to keep the scene secured while waiting for the officers to show up. When they did, I recognized one of the guys, told him what all was up and what I'd done to seal the scene of, etc. They appreciated it, and I got to see and meet some unfamiliar faces in the police force. Gosh, has it really been 4 years since I resigned as a homicide detective? It brought back memories of the job. Unpleasant ones. Always responding to tragedies and never preventing them.
I'm trying not to think about the homeless guy. Or the subsequent forensics investigation. Or anything along those lines. That job was dragging me down emotionally and spiritually. i don't care to go back and visit, even if it's briefly.
Tuesday night I decided to go grab a vegetarian sub (with cheese--I'm not completely crazy) from Garcia's and pull a shift keeping an eye on the park. I ran into two garou just outside of Garcia's: Becky and Maddie. Maddie I know. Becky I didn't. She carries a giant, greasy-ass rat in a bag. The thing acts like it's starving, but... Bleh. I don't mind domestic rats that are clean an cared for and sociable. This rat? It just looked near-feral. After Becky left, Maddie and I talked. We ended up discussing out favorite fairy tales. She liked "The Little Mermaid" and "The Adventures of Pinocchio." I said I'd have figured her as being a fan of "Peter and the Wolf" if it hadn't hit a little too close to home.
I'm trying not to think about the homeless guy. Or the subsequent forensics investigation. Or anything along those lines. That job was dragging me down emotionally and spiritually. i don't care to go back and visit, even if it's briefly.
Tuesday night I decided to go grab a vegetarian sub (with cheese--I'm not completely crazy) from Garcia's and pull a shift keeping an eye on the park. I ran into two garou just outside of Garcia's: Becky and Maddie. Maddie I know. Becky I didn't. She carries a giant, greasy-ass rat in a bag. The thing acts like it's starving, but... Bleh. I don't mind domestic rats that are clean an cared for and sociable. This rat? It just looked near-feral. After Becky left, Maddie and I talked. We ended up discussing out favorite fairy tales. She liked "The Little Mermaid" and "The Adventures of Pinocchio." I said I'd have figured her as being a fan of "Peter and the Wolf" if it hadn't hit a little too close to home.
