hiraeth.

Hey so rather than tackling prompts I owe from forever ago, I want to tackle ones that have cool word meanings to them. So you should totally sent me a prompt and tell me what character(s) you want involve in the drabble, yes? Yes.

• Cheiloproclitic – Being attracted to someone’s lips.

• Quidnunc – One who always has to know what’s going on.

• Ultracrepidarian – One who speaks or offers opinions on matters beyond their knowledge.

• Apodyopis – The act of mentally undressing someone.

• Gymnophoria – The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.

• Tarantism – The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.

• Autolatry – The worship of one’s self.

• Cagamosis – An unhappy marriage

• Gargalesthesia – The sensation cause by tickling.

• Capernoited – Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.

• Lalochezia – The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain.

• Cataglottism – Kissing with tongue

• Basorexia – An overwhelming desire to kiss.

• Brontide – The low rumbling of distant thunder.

• Grapholagnia – The urge to stare at obscene pictures.

• Agelast - A person who never laughs.

• Wanweird - An unhappy fate.

• Dystopia - Am imaginary place of total misery. A metaphor for hell.

• Petrichor - The smell of dry rain on the ground.

• Anagapesis - The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did.

• Malapert - Clever in manners of speech.

• Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm.

• Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

• Strikhedonia - The pleasure of being able to say “to hell with it”.

• Lygerastia - The condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out.


• Ayurnamat - The philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed.

• Sphallolalia - Flirtatious talk that leads nowhere.

• Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

• Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside.

@dreamofcreation    

  “I still can’t believe you took the fall for me.”  Moze’s somber voice trickled out of Miki’s phone speaker, and she pressed the device hard against her ear.

  “Stop worrying about it.  You would have gotten jail time.  It’s my first offense, so they saddled me with community service.”  She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and wiped a dirt smudge off of her pant leg while she waited for the light to change.

 “What’ve they got you doing? Cami said y’all went out to buy nicer clothes just for this.”

  “Attending to less-favored members of the affected community, whatever the fuck that means.  But the place I’m headin’ for is apparently some detective’s office?  I’unno.  Sure beats pickin’ up trash on the side of the road.”  Miki scurried across the street as soon as her path was clear. “An’ you know I ain’t a fancy dresser ‘less the situations calls for it, but... I just don’t think the guy I’m gonna be workin’ with would want me there in ripped up jeans an’ shit, y’know?”  Moze chuckled, and Miki imagined that he was playing that particular scenario out in his head.  “Then again, who fuckin’ knows?  Can’t hurt t’ have new clothes anyway.”

 “Yeah, true... true.”  Moze sighed, and there was a stretch of silence between them as Miki marched towards an old brick building situated on the corner with a wheelchair ramp leading up to the door and down off the sidewalk.  “You promise you ain’t mad?”

 “Bitch, what did I just say.”  Moze laughed, and Miki found herself grinning, even as she came to a stop in front of the door. “Okay, I gotta go.  Time t’ face the music.”  She ended the call, shoved the phone in her bag, and knocked three times.

dreamofcreation​:

Community service was a mixed bag. Sometimes one could get people down on their luck doin’ time just for the silliest things, other times you got absolute assholes that SHOULD have been put in jail, if only for a few months to realize how lucky they were. Of course, ‘twas not always easy to realize one’s mistakes, but, as he sat in the mostly-barren living room (a table with a laptop and an old adapted CRT television on a small wooden stand, his small couch, and a pair of chairs to each side, all leading into a countertop kitchen with a small stone arm for meals), he felt a bit of a need to grumble about overly protective social workers. Charity case or not. The knock on the door interrupted his internal ramble. At least, from the file, he didn’t anticipate too much fussiness from this one. Young girl, first real offence as a drug carrier, no real signs of too much mess aside her location, went to college… He didn’t pry past that. There was such a thing as inferring too much from vague data. “ ‘m comin’, I’m coming.” He got up gently, wielding a cane. He could walk, well, sort of shamble forward really, but the cane was his bread and butter. People underestimated cripples, especially if they looked like the kind that would fall off as soon as you hit their legs. They never quite accounted for a quick smack to the head. As he got to the door, he peered through the peephole. Face checked out. Never hurt to be sure these days. He unlocked the deadbolt, and slid the chain lock, papers in his left hand. There she was. “Mikaela Bowen, correct? Though I am of the understanding you go by Miki.” She was young, indeed, though not at all innocent. Thrifty (the clothes on her were not perfect fit, and evidently new, so she purchased them for this, plus the shoes showed all the signs), and quick on her feet, wasn’t startled by the noisy lock or the suddenness of the motion. Good. Seems like this city’s social worker wasn’t as incompetent as judged, that was nice to know. “Gio di Santangelo. Please come in, and take a seat. I believe you’re here for the community service, yes?”

  The distinct sound of a deadbolt came as a little surprise, right up until her new ‘boss’ wobbled into view.  Her gaze ticked down to the cane he supported himself with, and a few puzzle pieces clicked neatly together.  “M~hm.”

  ‘Crippled detective, huh...  Locks up to keep people from gettin’ the drop on ‘im, probably.’

  When he introduced himself, she halfway extended her hand to shake his, but withdrew it and scooted inside.  Rather than take the proffered seat immediately, she glanced around.  ‘There’s... nothing here.  Maybe there’s more in the back?  Eh.’  “Yep.  They weren’t too clear on what I’m s’posed to be helpin’ you with, but I figure it’s better you tell me either way.”  She finally plopped down into one of the chairs, smoothly crossing one leg over the other.  “So, d’you prefer ‘Mr. Santangelo’ or jus’ Gio?”

dreamofcreation​:

He settled down in the small couch, not making any sort of fuss. “Gio, please. Mr. di Santangelo was my grandpapa, and every time I mention I’m a Giuliani, people gimme the stink-eye, so I’d rather not. So, your job detail is rather simple. I need help during my weekly routine. I can take care of myself, food, hygiene, but both legwork for my job and stuff like getting groceries or moving furniture is the kinda hassle I’d rather save myself, and since the social worker’s office insists I need someone to look after me, I can at least make sure that you’re not here wasting both our times.” He stared straight at her. There was no point in sugarcoating stuff. If she was to be around for a while, it’s for the best to cut some illusions. “Ground rules. Whenever you come in and out of this place… here’s your set of keys, by the way. “ He tossed her the front and emergency keys. “Make sure to lock the door. There’s a special mechanism in the key that will trigger the chainbolt to reset itself, in order to prevent surprises. If at any point you lose the key, message this number and it will lock the doors immediately. I’d rather pay for a new set than take that risk. In any case, it’s not like anyone couldn’t pick that lock with the right tools, but stopping the average thug helps.” He delivered the ending with a wry grin. Cities, eh, what could one do. Before he continued though, his face undertook a more somber, appropriate look. “Now, I’ll make this clear. My job description is detective, but the more accurate descriptor is ‘a very annoying thorn in the side of many people’. Hence why I moved from my old place in Chicago, as I was starting to accrue a decent amount of heat. If anyone is following you around, go to the police. If you suspect you’re under watch, go to the police. If someone attempts to approach you about me in the street and you don’t know them, outside these four walls, all you do for me is spruce the place up and help me with groceries. You didn’t see anything, you didn’t hear anything, and you know nothing about any of my cases. I don’t expect to be in that much trouble early, but I’ve made a habit of not getting people into trouble over my hot plates, and I don’t intend to stop now. “ And yet, he suspected she might end up seeing at least some of it. But at least, like that, it became her choice over whether to do the sensible thing, or keep with him. He handed her a two-sheet document as he studied her features. “Legwork for the job will involve simple, non-committal stuff like going to places, setting up official meetings and the sort. Do not put your nose in too deep. I trust you to understand why. If any part of this scares you, or puts you off, I’d advise to go back to the social worker’s office and be reassigned right now. I am not gonna babysit people on the job. Otherwise, feel free to ask questions.” She was not an idiot, and would not be treated as such. Let her ask her own concerns.

  Miki regarded him with her best poker face.  She caught the keys in one hand and clipped them to her keyring -- which already sported six other keys in different colors -- and copied down the emergency number to reset the locks.  The guy was thorough; impressive.  It didn’t take long for her to find out why either.  ‘Getting into too much trouble’ as a detective meant he was probably way too good at his job, and his status as a cripple meant his enemies thought they could take advantage of it.

  She nodded along as he spoke.  As if acting as his aide wasn’t enough, she was to basically ensure his total safety by keeping every inch of his business a secret.  That was a heavy load to saddle someone with just for community service.  Most people in her position would be working at the soup kitchen, or helping out at fundraisers, or raking leaves for the elderly...

 She took the document and skimmed it several times, letting the gravity of the work sink in.  This depth of secrecy, this guy’s absolute need to stay safe from the criminal underground meant she couldn’t safely walk the line between this and her more lucrative courier work.  It meant her source of income would sharply drop, and she would be in the hole once her savings ran dry.  Sure, there was her music and the legal side of her courier work, but people used UPS and FedEx and the actual postal service for sending things legally.  There was hardly any business in it outside of things like Door Dash and Instacart, and that was pocket money at best.

  Briefly, Miki considered asking her friends for help.  Noah in particular would definitely have enough to spare... but people were always decent and wonderful until money came into the picture.  Her first group of friends was great until she couldn’t pay them back in cash for their ‘generosity.’  In fact, that was why she first lost Lucien.  Miki loved her friends, and she didn’t want to put what they had in jeopardy by asking for money.  The social workers’ office wouldn’t give a rat’s ass either.  This was community service; the judge already gave her a break.  They’d tell her to make it work and that would be the end of it.  Maybe she could ask Jason to get her a job at Byrask’s...

  “I appreciate the no-nonsense approach here.  I ain’t one to ask for my hand held.  So, I got all yer security measures, all the protocol.  Easy to follow.  Now, am I basically on call, or am I comin’ in at set hours?”

dreamofcreation​:

She was either far too stubborn to say no, or well aware of the difficulties of the job, and willing to risk it. Either way, he had too little resources in this new place to afford throwing away what was essentially free help. “Yes, you’ll essentially be on call, as it were. As I expect to have to make use of you at some unfortunate hours, I’ve set a part of my food stipend apart, to make sure you’re not running dry whenever you need to do something for me.” He took the proffered papers back.

“Your papers list you officially as social security help, which is what I’d advise telling your friends, as it is essentially the truth, plus or minus a few details. Groceries are on Tuesdays.” Lovely days, Tuesdays, very peaceful and bereft of people at the stores. “I’ll put the list on top of the countertop, with a bit of money set aside for whatever purchases you feel are necessary for you. You can use my kitchen to do whatever you need, though, as you may see, it’s still a bit… lackluster.”

“Formalities out of the way, I’ll be honest. You can see for yourself this is kind of a vacuous place. I got here a few weeks ago, and just gettin’ any kind of social assistance required me to jump through some hoops. I’m, as they say, ‘agita’, restless, and not at all in a place of comfort, so I’d request… keep your ear close to the ground, both for any unusual cases, as well as any chance to get decent cheap stuff. Money don’t grow on trees, and every little bit helps. Grazie.” She would get it, he could tell.

  'Oof... on call...  Well, I don't really have much room to complain.'  Miki tilted her head a bit, brow wrinkling when he said he'd set part of his food stipend aside for her.  'I can't take this broke-ass man's money...  Hell no...'  She kept silent as he continued, however, figuring that any argument would be more trouble than it was worth.  Another nod, another pause to mark the date for grocery trips in her phone's calendar.  Again, he was trying to give her money, and with no way to pay it back, she resolved to just leave it on the counter in a place he could see it.  He sure talked a lot...

 "Look, I get it.  Shit's hard, it's tiring.  You don't gotta explain yourself there.  Government likes t' fuck us all.  Anyway, don'tchu worry about findin' cheap stuff.  I know a place, Habitat for Humanity, non-profit organization, good place t' get nice used furniture."  She toyed with her hair and glanced around idly.  "I'mma hafta adjust my ear for unusual cases...  Shouldn't be too hard though. Got a friend who works as a bartender in a popular spot.  He's always got a story."

dreamofcreation​:

"Perfect. Thanks in advance.” About as good as one could hope for anyway. He noted the fact that her notes were on the phone. Good. No paper trail, smart. He had long given up taking notes for that reason, relying on his memory for the most part. “Here’s my work number, do call whenever you have something important to relate. Well, I think that’s all, really.” A wry smile graced his lips. He had expected this to be a lot more complicated. Thank the Lord for small blessings. “Was nice to meet you, and I won’t take more of your time.” —- Cesare D'Agostini was a pragmatist, at heart. You couldn’t get far in these circles without it, truth be told. So, when Il Signore had called his offices (and make no mistake that it was Il Signore calling, no matter who the words came from), Cesare made sure that the staff relayed all information to him, and then EXPUNGED any trace. That being said, this was a rather unusual call, a word of advice about… finding the right person, when he gets in trouble, and making sure he stays out of jail. Very interesting. This wasn’t Il Signore’s territory, of this he was aware, so there seemed to be some investment worth protecting. “Lydia, what’s the name of that… fella, at the Ballyclare? The discreet one.” “Weston O'Hara, sir. Well, at least…” Yes, that was the assumed name. “Thank you, Lydia, put his contact on my desk, I need to make a call.” Best to stay ahead of the game. Il Signore did not tolerate failure well.

  “So, keep the three end seats open so your new friend has enough space?  Lemme guess: disabled?  Cane?  Wheelchair?”

  “All of the above.  We’re on our way now.  ‘ppreciate it.”

  “Mik, the day there ain’t a chair at Byrask’s for ya’s the day I don’ work there anymore.”

  “Thanks, Jase.  See ya.”  Miki snapped her phone closed and rounded a corner, leaning forward a bit to keep a better eye on traffic and hunt for a potential parking spot.  “My friend’s gonna set aside a space so we don’t get swarmed.  He’s the one I mentioned before, the one with all the stories.  Figured you should meet ‘um if he’s gonna be a source of information, y’know?”  She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel to the music playing on the radio, bringing the car to a stop a little ways away from someone pulling out of a spot on the side of the road.

  Once she’d secured the space, she waited (again) for traffic to let her get out. But when Gio was out and standing securely with his cane, Miki huffed and climbed out through the passenger’s side.  “Dicks.  Anyway.”  She gestured to the entrance and held the door open.

  “Miki!”  Several voices called out to her at once, and she waved to them.  “Lemme buy you a drink!”

  “Not now, I’m workin’.  C’mon Gio, it’s over here--”  Her hand hovered over Gio’s lower back to gently lead him in the right direction, but a larger body appeared and stumbled into the poor man, forcing Miki to catch him before he toppled over.  “Hey asshole, watch it!”  As Miki lifted her head, Jason was already in front of them, shielding them from the rest of the crowd.

  “Fer fuck’s sake... savages, the lot of ‘em.  Terribly sorry sir, let’s get you sorted.”  He lifted his head to stare pointedly at Miki. “I know you wanna deck ‘im, but--”

  “I know, I know.”  Miki cracked her knuckles and sneered over her shoulder before settling down in the corner booth Jason reserved for them.  He immediately brought over two glasses of water and took a seat on the edge of Miki’s side of the booth.  “Gio, this is Jason.  Jason, Gio.”

dreamofcreation​:

There was a certain tug-of-war with going out for information collecting. On one hand, it represented a rare way to mix in with local folks, and he genuinely enjoyed not having to deal with information brokers instead of the actual people of the community. On the other hand, it involved people. In crowded spaces. He hated people in crowded spaces. Images of sardine cans came to mind. He walked out of the car. Miki had gone and made arrangements ahead of time, which was a small blessing. She was proving to be a valuable asset, already, preempting some needs. Gio had been mulling on whether to keep her on a payroll if he could get established. Supported on his cane, he crossed the small pathway to the bar, where Miki had rushed ahead to clear way.

Gio’s cane was a pretty unique construction. Invisible to anyone not in the know, a mechanism deployed a convenient spike bayonet from the tip, if he ever needed to confront someone. He’d taken some proficiency in melee weapons to make use of it despite his diminished range. That being said, it still worked flawlessly as a cane, and was properly insulated against terrain. The cane hit the floor. Trodden. Solid floor. Smelled clean enough for a bar’s exit. Good, it wasn’t a total dump. You could get information out of those… but not hygiene. As he made it in, a particular burly chap bumped into him, on the way out. He had met many “burly chaps” in doorways before, and his eyes took the brief moment to retain as much of his general features and aspect. Bars. At least, he had an “in” on this one, which was a good start.“ Speaking of him, there was the man. Jason. A quick trawl online revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The expected amount of brushes with seedy individuals, minor police registries as witness. What you’d expect of an individual on the up-and-up with a bar. "Nice to meet you, Jason. Gio di Santangelo.” He shook his hand. Honest grasp, with some dexterity. “Miki’s told me about this place, nice hangout, and that you had some stories for me. Is this seat for me then?” Looking at Miki, and noting no contradiction, he stepped into the proper place, sitting down. “I’ll order whatever you recommend.” Settling down, he started an initial survey of the place, discreetly. Bustling messy. He could already spot a couple of individuals who definitely weren’t as clean as they attempted to be. Still, good place. “Also, if you wouldn’t mind clearing something up for me, was that man at the door a regular?”

  Jason nodded and laced his fingers together on the table top.  A watchful eye kept itself trained on the room until a woman emerged from the back to take over.  Everyone knew not to question Jason if he had to step out and away from his job duties; his reason was never frivolous and always private.  Still, he pulled a notepad from his apron and left it out in case either had a specific order.  Gio had said he would have whatever was recommended, but... recommendations were dangerous when you didn't know the person.  He had a large order of chips and various dips sent to the table anyway.  "You mean the gent you bumped with?  Not exactly.  He comes every so often, always in the mornin', drinks himself into a stumblin' mess, an' leaves...  I assume he's arrangin' for a ride, cuz someone's always out there t'get'im."  He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled his glasses off to clean them.

  "Weird pattern..." Miki mumbled.  She traced the rim of her water glass with her fingertip, gaze fixed on the table.  Jason frowned a bit and patted her shoulder, which seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she was falling into.  Still, she remained silent.

  "So, yer lookin' fer stories, eh?  What're yeh keen on first?  I got a whole library."  Jason chuckled, forcing a smirk to Miki's lips.

  "Just give 'um some recent ones.  Stuff that... ain't resolved itself yet."

  "So it's gossip ya want!"  He grinned and lightly slapped the table before leaning forward and lowering his voice.  "Well, yeh already heard the one.  The gent gettin' drunk in the mornin'.  He don't talk much, so there ain't much mystery 'sides tryna figure out if he's an alcoholic or havin' home troubles... or tryna forget somethin'.  But as long as he ain't bringin' trouble here..."  Jason trained off and shrugged.  "Ah... then I overheard the other day, that big black guy who always comes an' talks to you, Mik, he was havin' some kinda argument with a woman.  Heard somethin' about a theft."

  Miki cocked a brow.  "Raihan?  A thief?  Please."

  "That's what I though' too.  He don't strike me as the type, but... y'never know.  Anyway, that aside, we had another lass in here jus' last night... her party racked up a massive tab, almost didn't pay it...  She was real out of sorts though, like she was afraid...  I saw her head into the bathroom with someone, but didn't see her come out.  Admittedly, that one's... been on my mind more.  Y'hear too many things on the news 'bout people bein' abducted.  I told my boss about it, she said she'd look into it more, so... that's that, really.  For now."

dreamofcreation​:

Names, traces, stories. Exactly what he needed. "Piece of advice, if an Irishman comes dropping by, asking for information on me, tell him the essentials of what you know. Safer for you.” He wasn’t sure whether he was on someone’s bad graces here already, but there was no point dragging them into this for information that anyone knew. An alcoholic drinking his sorrows away on a bar wasn’t too uncommon. Though someone waiting on him, was peculiar, at least. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like the kind of man that would cause him troubles just yet. The second one, though. “Hmm. That Raihan fella, you can tell me bout him later, Miki.” It didn’t seem like a difficult case. Theft cases rarely ever were. Shame, truthfully, it was a lost art these days, what with how easy it was to slip into a crowd. Still, whoever Raihan was (honest or not), he wasn’t an ordinary thief, as any person stupid enough to steal from someone while standing tall as the most recognizable dude in the room was either very good at stealing, or utterly broncosaurus. And he didn’t sound the latter. That last one though. A disappearing woman from a bar bathroom. Now, bathrooms sometimes had windows, but this wasn’t a window someone could just squeeze through, at least not without… “That’s quite interesting. Could you describe the girl for me, a bit?” Unlikely, but just in case, couldn’t hurt to know. “Also… was it a particularly cold night?” This was the more likely exit. A common trick when someone wants to leave a place undetected.

  Jason leaned back, gaze turned skyward as he worked to recall the woman’s features.  “Let’s see...  I remember ‘er bein’ average-sized...  Not particularly tall, maybe 5′4″, 5′5″... not thick, but not especially thin either.  Mmm... blonde hair, but her roots were startin’ t’ show.  Couldn’t tell if it was black or brown.  Cut to about... here?”  He rose his hand to his collar.  “Glasses, little Gucci dress...”  Miki snickered at the reference.  “She didn’t get close enough to the bar for me t’ see her face too well.  An’ no... it was a warmer, in the sixties, I think. Mik, you remember?”

  She looked up from watching the condensation run down the side of her glass.  “I’unno...  What’s ‘the other day’?”

  “Ffpp... two days ago...?”

  “I took Bearbo for a walk that night.  It was pretty nice out.  But what’s that got to do with anything?”

dreamofcreation​:

“She’s 5'5”. If it wasn’t a warm day, no one would suspect someone going out in an overcoat, face covered, after coming out from the bathroom, of being her, since she went in wearing a dress. Especially if the overcoat is larger than the woman you were looking for. But, since the day was warm… and the windows really wouldn’t permit her to escape through it. That rules out the two most obvious escape routes, for either a kidnapper, or a person merely wanting to avoid attentions. Hmm…“

He looked around. Byrask’s wasn’t exactly a large bar. It wasn’t small, but it was unlikely that Jason, being on the lookout for cases like that, would not spot a woman he was looking for. "Did her company miss her, or notice she was gone at all?” That was good to establish, he figured. A curious glint flashed in his eyes. Yes, he could see them, over there, drinks, loud voices, an animated group, probably not the kind you could just sneak in. It didn’t add up. She had to have left at some point. Or he would have… come up against her as he was… “What is your routine for closing up the bar, while we’re at this?” He stopped himself. He wasn’t on a job, just on an intel mission. Come on, Gio, remember not to be an ass. “Sorry, I… do get into my work. Basic sandwich please.”

  Both Jason and Miki quirked their brows at Gio’s musings.  How would he know for certain what inch measurement she was without seeing her?  Both let it slide though; they supposed it didn’t really matter how he came to the conclusion.  The words that followed held some level of perceivable importance, and Jason took close note of them.  He nudged Miki again, who hadn’t blinked since he’d asked her about the weather.  She visibly shivered and jerked her head to the side, as if trying to shake something off.

  “It’s hard t’ say.  I couldn’t keep track of all of ‘em, but like I said, they almost didn’t pay the tab...  Didn’t stay ‘til the bar closed either.”  Jason scribbled Gio’s order for a sandwich onto his notepad as well as a stiff rum and coke for Miki and handed it to a passing waitress.  He didn’t need to be Thane to realize she wasn’t all there.  “Anyway, let me think...”

  Miki gave her friend a few minutes while she too looked around.  “Any time I remember people not wantin’ to pay their tab, they never realize how much they spent for whatever reason.”  She stared at the drink placed in front of her while the waitress set Gio’s sandwich down.  “What’s’is?”

  “Mik.”  Jason gave her a knowing look, and she quietly huffed before knocking back a big swig.  “She’s right though, they didn’t seem t’ realize how much they’d spent.  I’m not sure how much time passed ‘tween the girl goin’ into the bathroom with someone an’ them finally settlin’ down, but it seemed... hasty?  Ahh... I’m not gettin’ my words right, hang on...”

  “So was it like... they were carryin’ on, then the girl disappeared, while you didn’t see her, they fought about the tab, but then... suddenly changed attitude?”

  “Yeah!  Yeah, there was this sudden shift, like they were really whinin’ about the tab, then all of a sudden, they just paid and left real quick.  ‘Cept it prolly wasn’t ‘sudden’, an’ I jus’... can’t remember if there was a trigger.”

dreamofcreation​:

Hmm. That didn’t seem so bad. If anything, the signs pointed to somebody who successfully evaded someone else. “I see. There’s not much to go on, but it seems to indicate someone on the run, or at least, trying to give someone else the slip. If she were to be kidnapped by a group… it’s unlikely they’d bring her to a bar. So, I think we may yet assume that her group was a group of friends and not malfeasants. Well, thank you anyway. If you hear anything else…” He placed a card. “There’s my e-mail if you need help.” He took a big crunch out of the sandwich. Mmm. He was hungrier than expected. That, or the sandwich was just really, really good. Now as to the other case. “So, Miki… tell me more about this Raihan fella. Hopefully we will get to meet him today, but… you seem adamantly convinced he isn’t going to be the thief in question.” A bit of a water sip. Part of him felt like there was a bit of a shame to not dig in and investigate the other question, but frankly speaking, there just wasn’t much to go on. After all, even if he sniffed around indignantly like a search dog inside the bathroom, he hadn’t much hope to figure anything useful. Given how a girl wearing a Gucci dress had chosen to come here, and her entourage had essentially bolted when she disappeared, it wasn’t going to go much of any place until he had at least a name.

  Jason pocketed the card with a firm nod and jotted down some notes from their conversation to give to his boss.  His memories were already on record, but having an outside perspective to consider might prove useful after the security footage was reviewed.  Miki lifted her gaze to Gio from behind her glass, which she took another gulp from before adopting a thoughtful expression.

  “Raihan?  Met ‘um... I dunno, last month?  He was at this art festival in the park, you know, the kind where artists, musicians, writers, and sculptors all gather to showcase their craft, offer support for each other, that kinda thing.  He was real inta my set, so we started talkin’, and he’s been showin’ up here a lot since I told him about the place.  Apparently he’s got a big online presence, one of those influencers.  He’s just a real sunbeam of a dude, and like... why would someone as ‘famous’ as he claims to be need’ta steal anything?  Makes fuck all sense to me...”

  Jason offered his phone to the pair.  He’d taken the liberty of looking Raihan up, and sure enough, all of his social media accounts, as well as the website for the modeling agency he worked for, were right at the top.

dreamofcreation​:

Cursory glance. Influencer. On the respectable scale, no links to any shady factions. Irritatingly chipper to a tee, as per standard. BIG outreach, those were definitely at least national numbers, if not worldwide. Lots of money therefore. Could have been the thrill of it, but… “Did you say he approached you at the art festival?” That didn’t add up. If you want to get off on the thrill of it, you don’t choose a random bar in the middle of nowhere. A whole bevy of individuals featured in these photos, from kids to musicians, to politicians, even. (Some people were finally getting the hint that ignoring new media of expression only made you look out of touch) No real… pattern of predatory behaviour. Aside the lots of pretty women, throwing themselves at the picture, but… he couldn’t exactly fault him for that, didn’t seem like the kind to keep his life private. “That’s a… wait.” He scrolled past the pictures. “Is that the girl? Right there, in the left side?” Seemed the type. “The one you said was making a racket that evening, that is?” He’d seen… this was pinging alerts in his mind. Hmm. This may yet be simpler than he thought.

  Miki’s brow furrowed in thought as they scrolled through everything.  “Yeah...  Told me he likes those kinds of events.  No suits, plenty of fun stuff to see... new people to support...”  She trailed off as her memory brought her back to that day, and a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.  The subtle change wasn’t lost on Jason, and he grinned before Gio pulled his attention back to the phone screen.

  “Looks like ‘er, yeah...  Same hair, dirty blonde dreads... real curvy black lass.  They look real happy in that one, she’s all on his arm... but look, that was posted four months ago.  Plenty of time for shit to go south.”  Jason lifted his gaze to Gio’s face, brow quirked.  “How’d you pick that out?”

dreamofcreation​:

“The expression. She has the self-satisfied expression of a cat who just caught the canary. You see those often enough on… possessively minded ladies.” He scrolled through a few more in the feed. “Note how she seems to try and appear in a lot of these… but it starts fading, here.” He pointed at a particular set of pictures. “Some kind of tour happened, and they fell apart. No one else seems to figure regularly in a way that suggests a connection. For someone to make a ruckus and not be sent packing immediately… she was important… but not important enough.” And there was a motive now. Women who liked status didn’t like their status challenged. And especially, when the symbol of said status wasn’t really going out of his way to be discreet about it. Still, too many suppositions castled on each other. “You said he drops by regularly. We should be able to puzzle out this one today, I feel, if he can give us a bit of his time. Maybe stop this before it becomes a headache for Mr. Jason here. Must say… impeccable establishment.” He nodded at the quite clean premises, and at Jason. “Wish more people had… standards like yours. Makes field duty less… troublesome.”

  Jason and Miki both nodded at his explanation, letting their gazes drop back to the phone screen as Gio scrolled and pointed out more photos to back up what he was saying.  Every so often, she glanced up at his face to read his expression.  The man was dangerously astute, and it suddenly made much more sense to her why he had to move cities.  This was just an idle application of the skill...  Professionally, it was probably much more terrifying.  It would likely prove problematic, unless he was able to parse out that she didn’t like talking about her own problems and actually left it at that.

  “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.  Fucker’s friendly as hell; he’d come say hi even if we weren’t helpin’ him with an issue.”  Miki relaxed in her seat and finished off her drink.

  Jason beamed at Gio. “Wish I could accept all that praise yer givin’, but I ain’t the owner or anythin’...  I jus’ try an’ help keep the place comfortable for everyone.  Wouldn’t do t’ have it nasty in here while we’re servin’ food now would it?”

dreamofcreation​:

“And yet every bloody bar in Chicago managed it. You tell me.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “To be fair to some, it’s hard to serve pizza and have no messes.” He liked Chicago. Was a shame to have to leave, but at some point, rolling the dice with ever-worsening odds was asking to get a pistol shoved in the head. The television made a notice of some diplomatic incident. Again. Shortages of oil, no surprise there, and that big lawsuit still going on. Really, news media were just international drama some days. The Khashoggi incident, still. Now that was a stupid one. Imagine just allowing the murder of a journalist under your nose. Sometimes, he wondered what was the point of secret services if they couldn’t even track that. “You’d think that the CIA would know what they’re doing.” He finished his sandwich, pointing at the TV with his other hand. “But then I remember, they’re the ones who tried to engineer a cyborg cat to perform espionage on the Russians, and I am suddenly reminded that being smart isn’t the same as being sensible.” He shook his head, chuckling. “True fact, that one. And what happened to the cat too. ”

  Jason smiled sheepishly and shrugged.  He couldn’t speak for any other establishment, but the way he conducted himself just made sense in his head.  He couldn’t imagine being any other way.  He took his phone back and scrolled idly through more of Raihan’s social media before ultimately turning the screen off and pocketing it.  He looked to Miki, who’d sat back with her arms loosely crossed.

  Gio’s musings drew both of their gazes, and Miki frowned incredulously.  “I’m sorry, they did what now?”

  “I think I remember hearing about that...  I’m ashamed of this country sometimes.”

dreamofcreation​:

“The Cold War was a bizarre time, Miki. Absolutely bizarre. I can only imagine what kind of nonsense they got up to that they can’t reveal, sometimes.” He finished his sandwich. “Not that it did them a lick of good. Released the cat in front of the Russian embassy, after bypassing its sense of hunger and having performed surgery to implant a radio transmitter in the cat’s skull. For all that they did, the enduring legend is that the cat got ran over by a cab. Not that I believe it, but the more likely story is that they discovered training a cat is, in fact, stupidly impossible.” Sports on the TV. He liked baseball, and well, this city liked baseball too. Sometimes. Still, he held a certain fondness for the slow sport, methodical as it were. Why people considered it boring… well he supposed it wasn’t glamorous or intense, but then again, nowadays nothing really was. He could see a couple of middle-age men talking transfers and players in the side there. This was… nice. It was nice. It reminded him of the old days, back when noone really knew him, and being a cripple hadn’t dragged him further into a depression. And then… the sound of a message buzzer interrupted his reverie. Was it…?

   Miki wrinkled her nose.  “It was probably both.  They thought they could train the cat, but when they dropped it off, it totally deviated from its supposed training, ran into the street for something, and then got hit.  But the government will never openly admit it did somethin’ stupid.”  She followed Gio’s gaze to the TV and then turned hers back to the table.  Baseball made for good background noise when nothing else was on.  Her friends often roped her into small parties over basketball, soccer, or football.  Those were fun.

   A soft chime from Miki’s pocket went unheard at first.  The rise in noise as conversation about the game grew drowned it out.  But a second chime came in shortly after, accompanied by a vibration that sent a tingle down her thigh.  She pulled her phone free and frowned at the screen.  “Speak’a the devil...”

   Raihan: hey miki... there’s somethin i need to talk to you about. kinda important. hate to ask on such short notice, but... meet at byrask’s?    Miki: already there.    Raihan: thank god. see you in five.

   “Mr. Big Shot Social Media Influencer will be here in five minutes.”

dreamofcreation​:

Ah, perfect. The sound of convenience. “Luck on my side, it seems. That being said, hopefully we can sort this business. I’m not too fond of dragging cases.” Unless they were interesting. He rarely ever met adversaries that did that, though. One supposed that was because said adversaries wouldn’t be dumb enough to show off their involvement in such subjects. Most of the time. Pride was often one’s downfall in the criminal world. “Five minutes, eh… He…” But he never finished that sentence. A figure came in, distinctively the man he had just been perusing the photos of. As tall in person as the photos suggested, too. Amusing. “Ah, there you are, Miki. Sorry about the…” He paused and stared straight at him. “Do I… know you?” Obviously he hadn’t been expecting an extra. “I would hope not. Gio di Santangelo, investigator. I expect your line of work to cross with mine about once every decade at best.” He tried not to inwardly chuckle at the tall man’s utter gaze of confusion. “Well, ah… Raihan. Nice to meet you, I guess. Er, Miki, I…” Raihan seemed taken aback by the whole situation, as if he had been caught by someone well ahead of him. “This is… oddly convenient, actually.” He stared at Gio suspiciously. “You’re not in league with my… my ex, I suppose, right?” Gio merely shook his head. “Mr… Raihan. I make a habit of not being in league with people that don’t pay for my services exceedingly well.” Or held his entire life hostage, but we didn’t mention that part out loud. “As it stands, all I have heard about you or your ex are the conversations we casually had today on the topic, I assure you.” Raihan ah’d. “Guess I’m just lucky then. See, the issue is…”

   Miki cradled her head in her hand as Raihan struck up his explanation to Gio.  Jason drummed his fingers against the tabletop, brow furrowing slightly as the details were recounted.  So not only was this girl a salty ex, she was accusing him of stealing an “important ring”...  Miki openly rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, throwing her hands up.  “Damn, bitches be crazy these days...”

   “You were sayin’ earlier you didn’t think he did it,” Jason mused.

   “And I’m holdin’ to it.  The fuck does he need to steal anything for?  If he wanted to get back at her for something, then he’s got a massive online platform to do it on.  Sounds like she’s just pissed she didn’t get to keep ‘im on ‘er arm.”

   “What do you think Gio?”

dreamofcreation​:

“I think…” He had heard the tale from Raihan now, and was putting things together, piece by piece. The stolen item was a jewelry ring, and… some images of the evening had been shared, thankfully. Hmm. But it didn’t add up. The story just didn’t add up. “And you say you had an ongoing relationship and you’d been in her house.” No, it just didn’t click. “Frankly, I doubt it was you.” Raihan wasn’t poor. Oh, he wasn’t rich, by any stretch of the imagination, that was for sure. Instagram models had money, but not THAT much. But still, no signs of poverty here, no outwards signs of addiction, no tics or verbal shakes. If he was a kleptomaniac, he sure would have avoided telling a detective about this. It could be a thrill of the hunt thing… but then why steal, quite literally, the most worthless ring there? It was an unset ring. No diamonds or gems that sold for anything. It was a band of gold. Even if it was solid 24K gold it’d still be worth, oh what, 300$ at most? And he doubted Raihan was just there to steal it. So, was it a petty opportunity for revenge? Unlikely, either. Miki had covered well and truly why any person with his reach could dumpster her reputation with three clicks and a post. No, Raihan had no real reason to steal it. “You have no motive. Or, at least, no motive that makes sense without you having some sort of deep mental disturbance.” There was always crazy, Gio mused. “So, assuming you’re not somehow suffering of multiple personality disorder and kleptomania, the best question is…” How? Having answered the what, the when, we were left with the who, the how and the why. The who and the why… he was beginning to puzzle out. Seriously, it wasn’t too obvious, considering the stills of the scene. However… Gio needed to eat. “… how much is it worth to you that I find you a way to clear your good name? Mr. Raihan, I do not work for free.” He sipped his drink. Nope, not going to do it. Even if he was curious as to how that specific ring had disappeared, there and then. Oh, he had some guesses, but… “Gio… Gio, my man. You have to help me, here.” Gio finished his drink, and requested another glass of water, very serenely. “Mr. Raihan, I’m sure you can appreciate this, but charity, recommendable as it is, does not pay groceries. I cannot go to the cashier and spend a voucher of goodwill. My services are paid. Believe me, I take no pleasure in extorting money, but I also don’t like hunger.” Raihan stopped, and looked at the man, his cane on the side, eyed Miki, and just took a deep breath. “How much?” “And that’s all I needed to hear. Let’s see. Since I do not need to do any travelling to solve the case, and really only a few minutes of expertise are required, I think a modest fee of 150$ is acceptable. Essentially, I’m billing you for one hour’s work, after all.” Raihan looked at him funny. “One fifty. That’s all? And you say you’ll solve the case. Pronto? No more worries?” Gio nodded. “I’ll do you one better, even. I’ll tell you the identity of the actual thief, and the real owner of that unset ring, I believe, provided you can forward it to me. In return, I’d appreciate some networking from you.” Raihan was smiling widely. “Oh, for that price, I’ll throw you a shoutout, man, no problem. Here, I think I can get it from pocket.” Jason had a look of wry amusement as the money was exchanged right then and there, and Raihan handed it with a simple request: “So, you’ll tell me when it’s figured out?” Gio pocketed his wallet with a very sneaky smile. “Certainly. Mr. Raihan, as soon as you hand me that ring.” The ring was placed on the table, carefully on top of a plastic coaster. “Jason, do you mind handing me some talc powder. From the cleaning closet, I believe you have some?” Jason was stunned. “Yes, sure, but how…” Gio requested silence with a gesture. “All in due time, my excellently clean man. Now…” He sprinkled the powder carefully over the ring, adding humidity if needed, and shaking it. Over time, a small pattern of prints were emerging. Fingerprints. “Now, Mr. Raihan, your finger please.” After Raihan offered his finger, it was dutifully powdered, and then he took a napkin in black, where he had the tall man make an imprint of his index and thumb. “And see here. These two places. They match.”

Raihan looked at him scandalized. “But I didn’t steal it! You said so yourself! My prints are there, but I…” Miki’s services were requested in silencing the agitated man. “Precisely, Mr. Raihan. You did not. Look at where the prints are. This is exactly what I expected to see. As, begging your apology, I have figured it out.”

  Miki carefully observed, brow furrowed as she tried to follow Gio’s train of thought.  His ruling that he had no motive, she could make sense of.  She’d come to the same conclusion herself, after all.  But when the detective began boasting about being able to find the true culprit just from having the ring, she lost the plot a little...