#x. thread

Being a private investigator in the city of New York means Fiona sees her fair share of strange and bizarre. Especially with her abilities. And while she tries to steer clear of trouble -- not taking on clients that are obviously bad news, only sticking to what her job entails, not sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong -- sometimes trouble finds her anyway. Most of the time, that means not picking up her work phone when certain numbers call or keeping a baseball bat by the door. But this time... this time involves the FBI.

Her stomach is in knots the whole walk over to the Midtown police station, her lower lip nearly raw from her chewing at it ever since she’d gotten the call to come in to answer questions. Apparently one of her former clients was the most recent in a slew of abductions. She of course remembers the woman; not much younger than her, pretty and kind and completely broken up about her cheating boyfriend. It was never easy to show the photographs in those cases. Fiona had assured her she was better off on her own.

The snowstorm had been sudden, and Guizhong Xiangu barely had enough time to cover her precious glaze lilies before a blanket of white stretched as far as the eye could see. It really was quite beautiful, but... not the best conditions for travelling.

With her vision nearly whited out, it was proving to be difficult to find her way back to Liyue Harbour - and that wasn't even thinking about how her marvellous Vision-Powered Wheeled Chair struggled to find grip on the snowy surfaces.

It was with a grin that Guizhong darted towards the Yaksha, a bright grin on her face. Her hands were hidden behind her back, and she gave off the vague aura of someone who was up to something.

Guizhong Xiangu stared at her reflection in the water. It rippled gently, distorting the image staring back up at her. After a few moments passed, she raised her head and looked over towards her companion.

Slim fingers tap almost restlessly on the wallet in her hands, waiting behind a half dozen patient customers. There’s another couple behind her and Fiona wonders idly if this bakery is always this busy or if she’d just come at a peak time. It doesn’t matter either way, she’s not exactly here for the delicious smelling breads and pastries -- though now that she’s in here she might as well buy herself a little treat. 

She’d stumbled across the wallet on her way back to her apartment this morning after a job, and while she could’ve waited until later to follow the invisible trail back to it’s owner, she was still keyed up and wouldn’t be catching any sleep anyways. Might as well be a good samaritan.