Billy had sat in the attic of the house he had lived in all his childhood, and where now he was a squatter. His parents, if they could even really be called that beyond pure biology, didn't even know. He had been given the option to graduate early. He wasn't going to take it, but then around that time, Ladon had moved in to his apartment, and Billy just so happened to help furnish said new apartment with a few things from the basement that hadn't been entered in close to ten years. Or so he assumed from the mere amount of dust on the door handle.

Billy had cleaned up the attic during the month or so he had lived up there. He had a pallet on the floor that was really just the ploof off a futon, a quilt, and a pillow. he had a headboard that was also a book shelf, and a small lamp on the floor beside the pallet. He had pushed all the boxes of stuff that remained off to one wall. Another box contained all his close. Yes, he was practically living out of a box.

Billy had bout a plug-in stove eye, and made use of the box of kitchenware he had also found. Well, the ones that he hadn't given to Ladon, anyway. For washing dishes, he had a bucket, probably once used for washing a car or something. Two buckets actually. One for washing, and one to rinse. For his own consumption he had purchased bottled water and various canned drink that he could stand drinking warm. His food was mainly spaghetti-o's, ramen, or whatever he picked up from the nearest burger joint when he had the money, which was now getting easier when he took it from his victims.
And for the bathroom... well, he had the equivalent to a latrine. Showers were taken when he snuck in to the local recreation center. Or payed the fee. Sometimes it payed to take a few punches at the punching bag. Thank goodness he didn't spend a lot of time at 'home.'

In fact, the amount of time he had spent at home since the attack by the BMC had probably been a grand total of 7 hours. Give or take. Bismuthite had been hitting the streets, and hitting them hard with a desperate fury. He was lucid enough to have a plan in his line of questioning though.

He figured since the BMC had taken, rather than killed Tanzanite, Wolframite, and the others, that the BMC had them prisoner, and were likely poking around for information. So, when he questioned any poor unfortunate senshi(BMC or not) that he came across as to the whereabouts of - first and foremost on his mind - Wolframite, he could not ask with such rage, 'where is Wolframite!?' that would send out red flags. He didn't need them using any perceived relationship - true or not - to try and drag stuff out of him. He hoped, and prayed, that if they asked Wolframite about him he would deny. Deny, deny, deny, lie if he had to. Supply a false identity. something.
Likewise, Bismuthite could not go and demand to know where Tanzanite was, although Bismuthite was confident that they wouldn't be able to extract anything from her. Tanzanite was stronger than Wolframite. Had more fortitude. But also, there was a greater bond there between Bismuthite and Wolframite.

Wolf... I could go into another speel about how worried Bismuthite was about him, but pretty much everyone knows by now how freaken worried and absolutely P.O.ed he was. He was so pissed, that as he held some poor, miserable, senshi b***h up against a brick wall, one hand at her throat, choking the life out of her, he thought he saw the face of Sailor Gunn there, and he dropped her. The senshi was passed out, and definitely not Sailor Gunn.

The momentary lapse was enough to make Bismuthite stop, however. And leave. But not before taking some energy. Sure, he could have killed her. Taken her starseed, but safe to say, if it wasn't pre-planned, he wasn't thinking straight.