Backdated to Sep. 29, 2014
Word count: 1274
They'd arrived first in the day time, waiting powered near the apartment building in order for someone to enter or exit the main building- the hall doors to each of the floors were locked as an extra measure of security. It had taken a couple of hours, but one of the tenants finally left on some business- Titan teleported as the door slowly swung back to place, bouncing once with the force of the woman's lack of care as she walked none-the-wiser to the distance. Maybe to the convenience store a block or so away.
They could get into the hall- Alkahest scurried under the hand that had prevented the door's full reclosure along the heavily worn low-pile carpet and past the strange old doors that weren't the letter number they were looking for. The doors were all painted veneered wood with a window too small to actually be decorative about face height. The glass in those windows was diagonally crisscrossed with wire, a security measure like the hall doors that was more useful than the fisheye peepholes of most places. Finding the right door meant a little teamwork as Titan flatted one hand against the door and the handle in the other to pull the crack between mechanism and door edge a little wider. Then Alkahest shimmied into position and worked a hooked carpet knife in to pop the closure like 'carding'. Both captain and lieutenant slipped in and closed the door quietly again behind themselves.
The floor had definite wear spots as they finally left the huddle at the door. From Kitchen and back room to bedroom and couch and the front door. Falco had evidently used the space for rote needs only. The place smelled slightly of cat, with some shed claw sheaths in the couch cushions, but no carriers or cats remained. No litterbox.
Did one of them turn out to be a Starkitty? Is that where starkitties come from? Titan had very little idea where starkitties came from or how they were made. He'd not had many interactions with the little beasts. About as many as he'd had interactions with the dark-starred nobles that served Metallia. It wasn't important, so he turned his attention back to the furniture while Alkahest replaced the couch cushions. The side tables were hand-made, lacking flair but durable. Durability and serviceability read as the theme- the TV stand, the coffee table, the coat hang on the wall. The man had been a fair hand with wood and metal. On the bottom shelf of one of the side tables was a small stack of grocery store check out novels of the romance variety. The spines had lines through them indicating having been read at least once if not more a piece. These must have been the 'good ones' kept.
Alkahest picked one up and blushed at the flyleaf excerpt. "Smutty trash - who reads this stuff other than middle aged housewives with husbands who have four affairs?"
"Realgar must have liked them. Maybe he was a housewife at heart." Titan shrugged and restacked them. "Have a look in the medicine chest. "
The Lieutenant disappeared down the small hall while the captain paced slowly from framed thing to framed thing on the wall. Falco smiled out of a few, younger and wearing racing uniforms of differing pattern, colour, and cleanliness. Some of the larger pieces were generic scenery prints that may just be mass produced and sold at furniture stores instead of anything Falco had photographed himself. There were some tacky glory-shot prints of racing bikes with dramatic lighting. Nearing more the hall and the bedroom were some pictures of the man and tiny red head from the Facebook page with a cat.
Alkahest came back and stood by his elbow to look at the latest red-head-with-cat-on-bike picture. "All cheap stuff, all still present. Landlord hasn't gone through to throw anything out yet, so maybe they're still trying to get a hold of next of kin to handle the estate legally. Must not be a rush to rent it out in the meantime. Its clean enough to serve as a furnished example, even if its dumpy. Cheap after shave, razor, deodorant, oral care, an expired bottle with the label gone yellow and peely of Vicodin. Probably YEARS old, like from that accident mentioned on his facebook page by people. "
Old medicine. Throw anything out... Titan considered a long moment, staring hard and motionless at the picture in the hall. "Check the waste bins. Maybe there are receipts, notes, or something. Anything. There's not a lot to work with in all this. "
Alkahest trotted off back to the back rooms, so Titan took the kitchen and wastebin in the livingroom under the other side table. Most of it was genuine trash of the sort he'd expected - a couple receipts, instant food wrappers, tossed magazines of bike enthusiast variety from months and months ago, a few tufts of cat fluff that had been removed from the couch, no doubt. Finally, he found a single note of scratch with no seeming context.
'I am not a piece of meat.'
It was so direct- the lone sentence on the whole of the paper. It felt stark and personal. There was plenty of chance that it referred to some other impetus of feeling- a conversation with a family member saying to do more with himself, a fight with the red head, a prodding from a therapist. The need to write it was the need to express it outside himself, whatever the reason to feel that way. Falco Marks had felt he was being treated like a piece of meat by someone or someones, but life. It could be one of the contributing factors.
Alkahest came from the back and shook her head, "Disposable razor heads, empty hygeine stuff, wadded tissues, nothing we can get Intel from. "
Titan straightened himself and held over the note, "There's this at least. It isn't much. I don't think he lived with anyone. There's only signs of one person. "
"No second toothbrushes even. I don't think he was dating. Whoever that red head is, she's an old flame still torch-carrying for her to have her pictures on the wall. But she didn't live here. I don't think she's a lead." The Lieutenant looked the note over and offered it back. "Isolated, lonely b*****d, who felt under-appreciated in the military and jumped ship?"
Titan's mouth pulled into a line. That is a little unkind how you say it. Most militaries at least have barracks. We don't even have that to get us to be friends and comrades outside of duty. It is isolated. He had no team, no lord noticing that he was gone or to report to. "Its hard to have a purpose when there is no guidance. Some people need it more than others. That doesn't make them weak, it makes them more loyal to a unit. The chain of command exists for many reasons. "
Alkahest nodded quietly, looking down. "Yeah, Okay. I can see that."
The captain pushed the note into glove for safe keeping. "We've got what we could here. Let's go. I'll put in the paperwork to meet with General Queen Laurelite with our findings. "
"Alkahest...thank you for your help. " He gave a nod of thanks to the small girl, hoping it would be an encouragement. More of one than Realgar had apparently gotten from his Captains or Generals. "I'll let you know if she has suggestions of what to do with this and with...the Bull. "
The locks were much easier in exiting.
