infomodder | ic contact 2 mask or menace

[Only a dog! A dog who backs up to make appropriate room. A dog who sniffs in Nicolas' direction, tilts his head to the side in that doggie questioning way...and then moves to flop down nearby. He's picked up on a little something different but doesn't seem bothered by it. Why would he be? His human is right there in case anything happens. His human let this guy in in the first place. He might be Off, but Will wouldn't let anything bad to happen to a dog. Gunther knows that the same as he knows balls are for fetching and food is for eating. This is fine. Gunther settles down to watch, chin propped up on his front paws.

Meanwhile Will, more human than most, is oblivious to any weirdness. Well, doggie weirdness. Organs in the mail, though, that's undeniably weird.]

Mm. It's not exact. Yet. Just possibilities. [One hand comes up to gently knock his hat off, running through his hair.] A heart so close to Valentine's Day, could be an admirer who's showing their appreciation in a peculiar manner. The timing could be coincidence, too. Or a guise. Wanting to be seen as a fan but...not. Something more sinister hiding underneath a holiday. There's not really a lot to work with right now, Mister Demidov, but I'd wager it's a fan, someone pretending to be a fan, or a third, possibly more malicious option.

[ The enviably simple life of a dog... ]

You make it sound like it could be anyone. [ Which, admittedly, it could be. You never really know. Nicolas gives an idle glance back towards Gunther, just ensuring the dog is, indeed, laying back down. There's a good boy, one he might even get away with patting on the head at some point. ] Though I think malicious may be the case no matter who it is.

[ Dog location confirmed, he turns back towards Will. ]

I've been turning every source I have inside and out to find any mention of a missing heart. No hospitals have been robbed of any organs recently, although there were some old mentions of morgue break-ins. [ Which were odd on their own, but not quite what he'd been looking for. ] No known deaths fitting the bill, either, but I've found it's easier to hide a body than it is to steal one.

[ Implying he's suspecting murder as for where the heart came from. For the moment, anyway. ]

[Morgue break-ins? His first thought is Ken. True, it could be someone (or something) else, but the idea that Ken (or a ghoul like him) is simply getting some additional snacks where and when possible is actually the most comforting option. Helps keep that neutral mask on his face, only interrupted by tame displays of frustration with the case at hand. If Nicolas is waiting for signs of disgust or horror, he'll find himself coming up empty.]

That's the damn truth. [Nope, no horror or disgust at all, just agreement with the idea of body troubles when they can't all hit the floor. It's a good way to gauge the level of shit this young buck on the scene has dealt with, Will being closer to bored than troubled.] I'm curious. What are you doing for Doctor Chilton with this? Are you just trying to find out who it was or are you going to bring them to some sort of justice if you do?

[ Nicolas wasn't really waiting for anything. If the man was already looking into the case, he knew what there was to know. There shouldn't be any surprises, no shocking twists, as Nicolas has none to reveal at this time. The lack of reaction simply goes by, unnoticed, uncommented upon. He's used to people who's seen just as much shit as he has himself and, when you think about it, aren't humans just as bizarre as any supernatural beast?

So there we have it. Two scruffy men in a bait shop, both seeming to be completely bored with a potentially gruesome case. ]

The first. [ Though he does tilt his head slightly at the question, the first real indication he might be curious over simply bored. ] I'm looking for the culprit, but what Doctor Chilton does with that information will be up to him.

[ As fun as chasing someone down and dragging them before a judge might be, he's not a cop. Man, he doesn't even have the proper licenses for this stuff here, buuuut no one's really checking that. ]

[That is...both reassuring and absolutely not reassuring. Facing legal troubles? A walk in the park for Will Graham. Facing the potential wrath of his fellow Baltimoreans and those they had on a leash? A hellish shitshow.

It hits him, again, that he's essentially partaking in what he had once been locked away for. What he'd been accused of, working cases while making them, the world assuming he'd either been broken and wasn't aware or that he really, truly enjoyed making himself number one. Here and now, he had someone else involved to discuss things with, like Hannibal once had. Someone to get vital details out of so he knew the next play to make.]

Gotcha. [He nods, runs a hand over his chin.] I was a criminal profiler back home, got a background in forensic science. Worked with the FBI. That's how I go about...looking into matters like this. That's my approach. [The scientific one. It's not always beneficial when he's blinded, but oh well.] Is that...where your training with all this lies, too, or. Something else?

[It's good to know his friends; it's better to know his enemies. More often than not, those two cross paths.]

Ah, no. Nothing like that.

[ Comparing credentials? There's a very slight, embarrassed pause -- he leans back some, looking away for moment, around, then back again -- as he realizes he doesn't really have any to match up to Will's. He doesn't even have an equivalent of a high school degree, for Falcon's sake, much less a background in science. But then, when did the supernatural ever care much for that? He certainly wouldn't have minded one, though, even with magic. ]

It's just what I've always done, I suppose. Turned out I had a knack for finding people, missing or otherwise. Things, too. So I kept doing it.

[ Like a dog playing fetch, more or less, although sometimes the endings called for something more brutal than simply bringing the mark back. ]

Oh.

[Quiet, but not in that "ah, yes, an uncultured plebeian" way. Just the opposite. The "oh" of a man who realizes his approach may have been somewhat possibly just a tad tiny bit socially awkward and he should have known better, really. But he isn't using it to judge, or to condescend. Some worlds don't have schools. Some worlds don't have the means for indoor electricity and plumbing, for fuck's sake, of course everyone he comes across didn't have the same opportunities even a poor swamp boy like Will clawed his way to.]

You're lucky. Too many hours in a cramped little room with a bunch of people you don't know and may never want to know is never preferable to learning in the field. Or having an innate knowledge of how to do what needs doing. [His smile is strained; not from it being fake, not from his words being empty, but from them being quite personal.] Any more questions?

You might think differently if you knew how many small, slime-filled spaces I've crawled through while earning all that in the field know-how.

[ The only time monsters lived somewhere not falling to pieces or filled with mold and giant rats were the times he had to deal with vampires and. even then, only the rich ones. Terrible, absolute horror on maintaining any level of style. But he does get that, sort of. If he'd been normal, only human, then maybe the little rooms filled with people would have been more tolerable, but... That doesn't really matter anymore. He's better off focusing on the task here and now, not thinking wistfully of what-ifs.

Other questions, he has to pause, think, then he slides off of the stool to stand again. There wasn't much more besides having a little meet and greet, really, and it didn't sound like Will had all that much more to offer than what Nicolas could have already assumed. ]

Only how much you'd like to be kept, um, in the loop on. The doctor passed along a bit of the heart he got. It's old, but I may still be able to get a trail off of it. At the very least, we may find where the poor sap it's from got dumped in the end.

[Will laughs—more rush of air than real laugh, but close enough. Ah, yes, crawling in the shit. A real good thing to put on any resume...if the crawling was legal, of course.]

Sure. [Casually, Will rips off some receipt paper to scribble down his personal number like nothing at all out of the ordinary is going on or being discussed. Like he isn't inwardly going over what the hell that really means, should this guy just stumble across a living, smartmouthed Dorian Gray.] Here. Feel free to call whenever, don't really have office hours for this sort of work. Well, you know. This isn't a 9-5 job.

[Sometimes the crawling in slime comes at, like, 3AM. It is known.]

[ Of which nothing Nicolas has crawled through is, technically. Let's just say his resume would be incredibly devoid of nice, normal, legal jobs... ]

Yeah? You sure? [ While he knows that's the truth, he can't imagine most people enjoy phone calls at four in the morning. Still, he'll take the slip of paper, pocket it for safekeeping. ] Alright. I'll let you know, just after Chilton.

[ The client still comes first, unsurprisingly. ]

And thank you, for taking a moment to speak with me.

[What is a mob to a king? A king to a god? A god to a nonbeliever? The law to literally any of those + garou? Nothing. That is the answer. The law ain't shit, bro.]

I'm sure. [It'll be like home all over again! Getting calls at four in the morning like "Will get your ass dressed because we found bodies missing organs in a hotel room and the FBI doesn't give a shit about your sleep or well being but we will have some coffee in the car" a true staple of Baltimore. For once, Will smiles, broad and human and perhaps not really fitting the situation but oh well. He reaches out for a part handshake while Gunther raises his head and blinks a few times. So much shaking, it's like they're all dogs here.] You're welcome. Not a problem, at all. Glad you stopped by.

[Because now he knows what he'll be doing as soon as he's sure the guy is gone, which is waking up Dorian and being a little shit in his ear. What a great day!]

ic contact 2 mask or menace

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject