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Post by 0 on Dec 23, 2017 6:40:52 GMT
His watch vibrated. He ignored it.
Walsh stalked straight over to the station, pulling himself inside after flashing his badge. He took off his apparently malfunctioning scanner and dropped it onto a spare table, picking up another from a rack along the wall--after a moment's look-see, not that he was entirely sure what to be looking out for, other than false readings.
While the scanner was on loan from the security offices for the time he was working there, the watch was personal equipment from his district, tied to his heartbeat as much as his cruiser was to his prints. Unfortunately he couldn't just swap it out like the other, but he could get it looked at.
UUUNFORTUNATELY that wasn't going to happen so soon; the electricians here were busy with their robot, and he couldn't just up and run somewhere else.
Retiring to a room in back, Walsh slipped off his watch, turned it off, placed two big fingers firmly to either side of the face, and split the screen from its holder.
He had no clue what he was doing. Honestly if he broke it he could care less.
But he was pretty sure hacking had something to do with the wires....
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Post by 0 on Dec 20, 2017 20:52:12 GMT
"Don't believe everything you read," said the bird, a hard thing for him to say. Much as he liked to rely on books, authors were themselves fallible and prone to mistakes.
He stepped forward and stole a glance at the book itself, flipping through some of the pages himself before returning it to the place that the mammal had left it at. It looked like a compendium on various species, which meant that the data therein had to have been condensed and focused--and therefore may be missing some important bits of information.
"The book's not a full article. Daemons referenced could have been bad eggs, and the contracts could have all been done about the wrong way. Surely there's something other than souls they seek?"
He looked towards the child as he spoke once more, nodding. "You're right: you should be planning for all possibilities.
"Actually...," he continued, pausing, thinking. "If your daemon here really isn't the amiable sort, perhaps we could fool her rather than overpower her. So far it sounds like she holds all the cards." He turned back to the quadruped. "What does that book say on how many contracts a daemon can hold at once? How do they keep track of the souls under their wing?"
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Post by 0 on Dec 20, 2017 20:33:45 GMT
Doppler winced just a mite bit when the fox suddenly raked one of its legs, causing blood to pour out. He wasn't usually the woozy sort, but he hadn't exactly been expecting it, and it was only further puncuated by a dull ache in his head. A mumble seemed to pulse between his ears, the fox's voice muddled but there; after a moment he was able to parse what was being said--thought?--to him.
The child rubbed his head with his pen-holding hand and said, "Okay, okay, fine; you're alive." There was a measurable note of disappointment to his tone; much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he couldn't exactly deny the blood he was seeing. He didn't know much about ghost physiology, but he was pretty sure the fox was right in that they didn't bleed.
What in the world did that make this fox (or "kitsune" as the beast put it), then? Boggled the boy's mind.
He sighed as he looked down at his notepad, not sure whether to continue making notes on something that was strange and no doubt unknown, but not at all what he was looking for. What a waste.
He eyed the...kitsune. "Do you need a bandage?"
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Post by 0 on Dec 18, 2017 19:58:05 GMT
Everything looked relatively normal up on two.
In the sparse morning light that was shed through the upstairs windows, Walsh browsed between the shelves and peered into the various rooms, flipping out a flashlight whenever things became too dark. He left the locked doors alone for the moment, instead peeking through the windows that allowed a small glimpse into those sealed rooms. He decided not to bother with the residual detector, seeing as how it had been dissipating so fast down below, he doubted such an undisturbed area would have anything of note.
Curious. Whatever had happened must have come and gone.
Walsh tapped lightly at the piano, checked behind the other checkout desk, and then disappeared into the records room. With no windows and plenty of places to hide, it was dark enough in there that he decided to try the light switch for this one.
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Post by 0 on Dec 18, 2017 4:06:08 GMT
'Ghost in denial,' wrote Doppler. He suspected such a thing to be common. Otherwise, wouldn't ghosts just walk off to...wherever dead people go? Or perhaps they were lost....
"Uh...yeah! Sure," he said, watching the fox keenly. Knowing what ghosts could do was always in a ghost hunt--a-hem, RESEARCHER's best interests.
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Post by 0 on Dec 17, 2017 23:24:18 GMT
The banter and debate that went on between the two was absolutely fascinating, and the crane stood silently back while he absorbed the information that was being divulged on a topic that he knew very little about. < couldn't tear himself away from it, nor could he find a place for him to speak up. He wouldn't have any input of his own anyhow!
However, as the discussion went on, he grew to find this rather untrue. The bird lifted a wing, primaries brushing up against his bill, then swept over his head as he brushed down a few feathers that had strayed out of place, waiting for a point when he could voice his question.
"Please pardon my intrusion," the avian spoke again at last, "but I don't understand: why don't you simply request the contract be dissolved? Surely that would be far easier than trying to find ways to best one another." He'd offered up that option earlier, but the mention must have gone unheard; admittedly, he'd become distracted himself.
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Post by 0 on Dec 17, 2017 23:20:44 GMT
"Uh-huh...," said Doppler, jotting down everything that the fox said. He tapped the pen against his chin as he examined the notes and thought of what to ask next, not even seeming to notice the threat being tossed his way. Information first, THEN worry for his life and limb. Maybe. Probably not.
"Right," he continued, glancing up at the beast again, "so, how'd you die? Get run over on the road?" He couldn't hold back the smirk that quirked up at his own question.
Well, how else does a wild animal die only to find its soul wandering the earth for all eternity? Huh...animals had souls apparently--next thing you know, the fox'll be telling him that it has a name. Ridiculous!
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Post by 0 on Dec 15, 2017 5:04:23 GMT
The wolf waved her hand at all this, offering a cursory glance towards the pair. "Vulf vill eat von ov yore legs." She tried to pull off a hungry, wicked grin, a hard thing to do with wolf lips in an addition to the hole in her face. Perhaps that would only make it come off even creepier.
Then her torn ears perked up, eyes rolling away as though she were only just remembering something. "Hunt?" the wolf whispered, finally lifting her paw off the bridge post. "Ja; geud plan!"
There was another creak in her bones as she turned and stepped onto the bridge, her mouth still running as she walked across it. "Vulf vill grab big meal. Unt maaaybe let pups haft a bite."
The wolf picked up her pace as she hopped back down into the snowy dirt; then she started hobble-running out of the village at a surprising speed, considering all the hubbub she'd made before. "Vind yew, I will!" was her last call as she made to disappear from sight, a ragged, cackling howl rising into the frozen air.
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Post by 0 on Dec 11, 2017 20:47:01 GMT
Doppler listened intently as the fox began to speak, divulging information he never thought he'd get, least of all from the horse's own mouth. Honestly he was almost more impressed the pawed animal pointed to itself, giving Doppler the strange sense that he was living in a cartoon or comic.
"One sec," he said when the fox finished, dropping his spoon and popping off his chair.
The boy ran out of the kitchen, past the entrance hall, through the living room, and into a small makeshift den set just off from it. He shuffled around in a dusty desk, picking out a notepad and a pen, and immediately started jotting down what he could remember the ghost (or "supernatural being" and "kitsune" as it had put it) having told him, slowly walking back towards the kitchen.
Doppler slowly mouthed the words as he wrote them, not looking up until he got down all the information he wanted. "Okay, so...," he said at last, looking around for the fox. There was a pause in his words as he tried to organize the questions running through his head; why, there were so many of them! So many unanswered questions about the great beyond. "What do ghosts--erm...KITSUNES," he amended, eyeing the beast carefully: no need to get dishes thrown at him because he happened to offend the poor undead's sensibilities; "need to survive?"
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Post by 0 on Dec 11, 2017 6:51:29 GMT
Walsh flicked a strand of hair as his replacement finally appeared, as though tipping an invisible hat. Once relieved, he swiftly and silently skedaddled on out of there, off to get his equipment checked over in the security offices before retreating to the break room. Assuming he wasn't let off from the job he'd so utterly screwed up.
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Post by 0 on Dec 10, 2017 18:59:51 GMT
He regretted the offer almost as soon as he made it. Damn; he was supposed to ration that shit, not lead some stray on! Even if it was a ghost stray.
Too late to retract it now.
Good thing the white dogfox didn't seem to want any. Doppler very slowly ate the peaches and listened to it talk. Well, made sense for an undead wild animal to be free to hunt all the mice it wanted. Or whatever ghost foxes ate.
He began to wonder why he just offered physical food to a ghost.
"'Ey, it's not a dump!" said Doppler reflexively when the fox was done asking its questions. He had worked HARD on patching up the upstairs windows (before more of the roof had caved in and rendered his efforts moot), threw some good blankets over them an' everything.
Before he could think up an answer, however, something else was brought up. He stopped eating, eyes snapping towards the beast. "Wait--what? It DOES?"
The city repels ghosts? If true...then no wonder he could never find any around there! Why one just shows up on his doorstep--er, in his kitchen! GRAH-- ALL THAT EFFORT...WASTED!
And he lost his camera an' his radar an' everythin'...!
But where else was he supposed to look? The trees? Yeah, sure, just find a ghost squirrel next; that's what the people want, fuzzy pests throwing spectral nuts at the camera.
"Screw that," he mumbled to himself. But perhaps there were some abandoned buildings on some old farm or somethin'. He could always check out that ghostless ghost town again.
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Post by 0 on Dec 8, 2017 4:28:05 GMT
The beast leaped out of the way his shots, Walsh loosening his trigger finger as it ducked far enough behind the car that he couldn't immediately get a good angle on it. A shot or two might have skimmed the armored vehicle, but thankfully a few bullets wouldn't hurt what was essentially just a few pegs short of a tank. Unless he hit a window or something.
Walsh used the time he had to duck behind his door and reload the rifle.
His watch beeped, Walsh glancing through the door's window before he checked the messages that had been caught. "Copy," he breathed quietly into the watch's speaker, reaching for a clip of aurichalcum rounds to slide into the internal magazine.
Hearing the van cut back out onto the road, Walsh quickly flipped the safety and tossed the rifle back into the passenger's seat, then dropped into his own and slammed the door shut to chase after the armored automobile. Sirens whirled back into motion as he sped to catch up, aiming to act as an entourage if nothing else. Hopefully he'd be able to swerve fast enough to cut off any other potential attackers, make sure nothing else tried to break through the van's defenses.
The beast had appeared to have disappeared, and Walsh kept a close watch on his mirrors and windows for any signs of it.
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Post by 0 on Dec 7, 2017 22:46:56 GMT
He nearly rolled his eyes at the first comment. Ya, ya, jus' ask anyone, it's a small town and all that--although...he supposed a man covered in bandages wouldn't be hard for folks to remember.
Good thing he was offered something more substantial. Small "twofer" in an alley behind the grocery. Supposin' they only had one grocery store here then. One bar, one gas station, one grocery store; really was a small place.
He cracked a short grin as he turned back around, walking off once more. "Catch ya later." After that he picked up his pace, jogging away towards wherever that school and its accompanying field was.
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Post by 0 on Dec 7, 2017 5:03:50 GMT
The wolf cast the evil eye towards the maned human when he mentioned that she seemed to be hurting. HARUMPH! Keeping one paw on the bridge's post, she straightened her spine with yet more audible cracks and pops, poking out her ragged lower lip as she stated, "Vulf is in perfect health." No need for a stranger to think her ill...well, except for the woman--everything was her fault right now, and she should be feeling very guilty about it all.
Then her head swung around towards the lady, who mentioned staying the night in the woods. "Good!" the old wilder huffed, jabbing a finger at the air towards the woman. Then she continued, seeming to take the mention as a suggestion--no, an OFFER, towards the two of them. "Ju vill vild fire to warm my old bvones and clear da head ov zis mistaken sjhentleman hjere."
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Post by 0 on Dec 7, 2017 4:06:09 GMT
He didn't much like it. He missed, the lights started flickering, AND the detector started making some weird noises, warbling, popping, hissing like it was breaking. It made things confusing and potentially doubtful for him, but at the same time...his watch going wankers thanks to some hooligan, now his detector on the fritz right after this guy had leaned in so close to it. He wasn't sure what to be suspicious of.
Walsh quickly pulled back the tazer, hooking it back onto his belt while quirking a brow as the stranger adopted...some sort of fighting stance. Probably some sort of Chinese thing--it didn't look too intimidating.
"That's fine," said Walsh, his voice a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. He tried to stifle the suspicion from it, but it was hard to tell whether it was working at that moment. The man had dodged his attack so deftly, and yet now he posed so goofily. Perhaps it was mere luck.
He rolled a finger over the detector, shutting it off. "All this new tech seems to be malfunctioning lately. Thought you were dangerous," he explained, his aversion to lying overriding his suspicions. It was his best guess thus far. Good thing his replacement during break should be arriving soon; perhaps he'd be able to get some of the equipment looked at then.
Walsh eyed the man carefully as he slid the sleeve more fully down over his watch, returning to his usual security position of standing stiff and still.
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