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Entry tags:
The Case of the Misdirected Dectective [Open]
Who: Spinelli and you!!
Where: The City
Summary: Having an overactive imagination may not be the best thing when you get lost in a strange city.
It had all seemed so easy. The map on the Omnicomm that Splicer had shown him was clear and detailed, the place where the clothiers were clearly marked. It should be the simplest of matters for one with his intellect to follow said map from from the tube to where the stores in question were located. But he hadn't realized just how big the city was, and that things were much further away than they seemed. The areas of rubble didn't help matters much, and there were a few times he had to detour to get around blocked off areas. After some time had passed and he still hadn't found the shops in question, he could only come to one conclusion.
Damian Spinelli, computer hacker, assistant author, some-time video game designer and private investigator...was lost.
The simplest option, of course, was to turn around and go back the way he came. Or...he could pull out the Omnicom again, check the map and see if he could figure out where he had wound up. Pausing by a pile of rubble that might have at one time been someone's house, he started to hunt around his messenger bag to find the small communications device to try that second option when he heard a noise. Could it be someone, or some thing, had tracked him here? There had been that battle not too long ago. What if he had stumbled upon a place where not everything had been defeated?
Grabbing the nearest thing to hand, he rounded the corner, brandishing the item like a weapon, although not terribly effectively. It was a ratty old cloth purse, made from a fabric covered in pink roses. The thing looked utterly ridiculous in his hands, and quite possibly not at all intimidating. Well, unless there was some reason to feel threatened by a handbag that might fall apart at any second. His voice - not terribly deep to begin with - went up about a half octave as he cried out a warning.
"Cease and desist, vile evil doer!"
Where: The City
Summary: Having an overactive imagination may not be the best thing when you get lost in a strange city.
It had all seemed so easy. The map on the Omnicomm that Splicer had shown him was clear and detailed, the place where the clothiers were clearly marked. It should be the simplest of matters for one with his intellect to follow said map from from the tube to where the stores in question were located. But he hadn't realized just how big the city was, and that things were much further away than they seemed. The areas of rubble didn't help matters much, and there were a few times he had to detour to get around blocked off areas. After some time had passed and he still hadn't found the shops in question, he could only come to one conclusion.
Damian Spinelli, computer hacker, assistant author, some-time video game designer and private investigator...was lost.
The simplest option, of course, was to turn around and go back the way he came. Or...he could pull out the Omnicom again, check the map and see if he could figure out where he had wound up. Pausing by a pile of rubble that might have at one time been someone's house, he started to hunt around his messenger bag to find the small communications device to try that second option when he heard a noise. Could it be someone, or some thing, had tracked him here? There had been that battle not too long ago. What if he had stumbled upon a place where not everything had been defeated?
Grabbing the nearest thing to hand, he rounded the corner, brandishing the item like a weapon, although not terribly effectively. It was a ratty old cloth purse, made from a fabric covered in pink roses. The thing looked utterly ridiculous in his hands, and quite possibly not at all intimidating. Well, unless there was some reason to feel threatened by a handbag that might fall apart at any second. His voice - not terribly deep to begin with - went up about a half octave as he cried out a warning.
"Cease and desist, vile evil doer!"
no subject
And some not-quite so good-natured, but he does his best not to dwell on that at the moment. There was no reason for him to believe she meant it to be anything other some light-hearted humor, and he smiled.
"Apart from a few minor inconveniences, all seems to be going as well as can be expected, given the situation." His eyes fixed on her apron, his head tilting slightly as he gave it a curious look. It wasn't something he would have expected to see on most people, but it somehow seemed to suit her, garish stone or no. "I see you have been successful in acquiring some clothing, it seems. Alas, the Jackal has not had such luck so far."
no subject
"It's mine from home," she said, fingering the strap. "I'm a blacksmith by trade. This has been with me for a while. I'm glad to see it again. It seems that most people don't wear much besides the plantsuits." She wrinkled her nose. Not a fashion statement, and not particularly comfortable in her opinion. "Are you out looking for a tailor?"
no subject
Lifting his hand to punctuate his words with a finger, he wound up waggling the purse instead before realizing what he had done and hurriedly setting it back down again. "But, we need not focus on that at the moment. Once I have time to restudy the map, I am certain that I can find my way to one to procure something more fitting, as it were. Tell me, though, you said a blackmsmith? Truly, I cannot say as I have had the privilege of meeting someone with such talents before. Is it terribly difficult work?"