[attr="class","nikita"]Typically, smuggling cases were of no interest to him. It was not a crime he particularly cared about. Nor were the methods hard to determine. But this particular criminal employed interesting methodology. There were also signs of Rocket involvement.

Nikita turns to face Maisie. The face she sees looks like a horror movie reboot of the once famous detective. His cheeks are sunken and sallow. The pianist fingers are stained the sickening color of nicotine. In many ways, the Houndstone typically at the man’s side looks more alive. But his gray eyes are still sharp as knives.

The severity of that gaze falls upon her like a guillotine. Smoke furls from his mouth like the exasperation that coats his words. Though part of it is her lack of discretion, he also detests the girl’s way of speaking. He wonders what enunciation had done to her. “Perhaps we shouldn’t announce that to an entire city block.” He is dressed to fit in. His normal posture is different. A fake scar through his lip draws attention.

Beside him, a burly Nidoking stands. The lack of Winters at his side is enough to throw many off his scent. “They are doing nothing.” This investigation—like so many—is his own.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[ Nikita Sokolov ]

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective wonders where people get all this air to waste. Why did they have to parrot themselves like that? Did some subset of the population find it charming? “I am sure.” Nikita murmurs in response. Those golden orbs seem unlikely to miss much. They remind him of an alley cat’s eyes in the darkness. “Perhaps say it one more time to make certain.”

A salt-and-pepper brow jerked upward. This place was one of shadows and second-guessing. People could hide themselves quite well. Nikita settles for a incredulous,. “Is that so?” The man seemed unimpressed by the investigator’s ‘mate.’ Its shy nature does not raise its status in his regards. He doubted they were aware of Winters’s presence. Then again, Damian was difficult to ignore, especially with his impractical pince-nez. “Surely nothing escapes his notice.”

One skeletal hand reaches out to return the greeting, His movement is slightly hesitant, mostly because he has no idea where this woman’s been. His grip is light. Again, he finds his face shifting in confusion. “Sir Sokolov?” The last he checked, no one had knighted him. Though, if they had, he would not have actually attended the event. Empty grandstanding was not worth his time.

When his hand came back, it briefly swiped across his pants. They were jeans, something he had not willingly worn in over a decade. “The mausoleum?” What a macabre name. He was not familiar with it.

“That depends on the heads.” There’s a brief pause as he looks her up and down. His Nidoking does the same before turning back to the alley. “I am curious what resources you are referring to.”

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[attr="class","widecurve"]

[attr="class","charicon"]

maisie grins at him, amber eyes narrowed. "elementary, my dear watson!" she pulls something out of her satchel-- a tablet, its case adorned with various stickers of pokemon, skulls, and flowers. it's exactly the sort of thing you might expect someone like her to have. she certainly doesn't act her age, but it's all part of getting people to lower their guard around her. besides, it's fun to play to someone's expectations like this.[break][break]

she presses a button and the screen on the tablet comes to life. "dante wasn't just checking for people," she explains as she navigates through a menu. within moments, there's video on the device. it looks remarkably like security footage, with four views being offered of what seems to be the same general area. "i had 'im place several cameras connected to this live feed 'ere. nobody's gettin' in or out without me knowin' about it."[break][break]

she brings up one specific view, enlarging it, claw-like nails tapping on the screen impatiently. "they cover all entrances and exits. and if i connect my bluetooth to 'em, i can hear what's bein' said."[break][break]

maisie looks back up at nikita. "thinkin' that counts as 'resources', eh?"

[break][break]




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[attr="class","nikita"]The young lady’s exclamation drew a sign. “He never said that.” Nikita’s correction sounds wan and tired, as if he’s made it a hundred times before. Which, unfortunately, he has. Everyone thought they were so clever when they quoted Doyle. Unfortunately, most of what he heard were bastardized quotes from movies or book reviews.

Gray eyes watch as she pulls out the tablet. A sigh bubbles from his throat—easily construed as a distaste for technology. He takes note of the odd assortment of stickers. The macabre clash with the frill of flowers and adorable drawings of Pokemon. It fits the discordant nature of the want-to-be investigator in front of him. Still, he does not interrupt as the girl continues. His glasses shine in the light of the tablet as it's turned toward him.

His gaze shifts from camera to camera. For a moment, he merely takes in the information. Though he notably twitches each time one of her letters falls into the abyss. The lack of enunciation. “It is certainly a resource.” The man’s laugh sounds strained, like a badly tuned guitar. It is not something he does often. He pulls out his own form which shows a similar feed. “Unfortunately, you missed two cameras.”

The two at the back door were tucked beneath the eaves. Certainly easy for a Pokemon to miss.

“But there’s no need for subterfuge, Miss.” This feed wasn’t something he acquired from outside however. “Please humor me.” There was a reason for the prosthetics and out-of-place clothes.A skeletal hand moves to grab the young lady’s shoulder as he guides her toward the front door. Suddenly, his entire demeanor changes. Suddenly, that aristocratic coldness is replaced with a gruff, thuggish baritone.

“‘Ey, Jerry.” One of the workers outside perks up, a joint sits balanced between his fingers. There’s a brief moment of recognition. “Lookit dis lil mouse I found sneakin’ bout.”

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[attr="class","widecurve"]

[attr="class","charicon"]

she's grabbed with little warning and steered in a direction she does not want to go in. "o-oi!" maisie protests, before the situation sinks in. she feels something against her neck move, and then a light pressure against her back left pocket as dante the dreepy evacuates, taking her phone with it. the ghost disappears, small and unseen, carrying two precious artifacts that can't be discovered if maisie hopes to get out of this in one piece.[break][break]

"what th'hell? is it illegal to walk around at night now!?" she complains, looking between the workers. she has her hands up, hoping to indicate she's unarmed (which isn't strictly true, but it's not like they need to know that). "pretty cheeky, just grabbin' someone out for a walk! what, y'got somethin' to hide?" it's not hard to play dumb. she's constantly doing it, knowing she'll be underestimated so long as she acts like she's not paying attention.[break][break]

meanwhile, dante's gone to get reinforcements... and to make sure her phone with all the cameras on it isn't found in a body search, of course. all maisie carries on her right now is a wad of cash and a small knife hidden in the lining of her jacket sleeve, one that would be difficult to spot without first knowing it's there.

[break][break]




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[attr="class","nikita"]The detective makes no move to stop the Dreepy’s departure. The guards don’t seem to notice it. But it did not take a genius to play a roadblock. Nikita resists the urge to wrinkle his nose as the ‘perfume’ of the two washes over him. It smells like they bathed in some elixir crafted from cheap cologne and a teenager’s body spray.

The pair at the door cackle like drunk Mightenya. One of them even raises his hands in a similar gesture and imitates Maisie in a high-pitched voice. Nikita’s response is quick and reflective of the guard’s bravado, “It is when it’s on our turf, Squeaks.” They don’t think to ask if she’s armed or notice that her Pokemon balls are still present. At her question, the old detective scoffs. “That’s for us’n to know and you not to find out. Nosy lil tart.” That last statement makes him viscerally uncomfortable.

“Go on in Lyle—” The taller of the two says after a moment. The one right of him just nods. Nikita is surprised he is not drooling. That same guy seethes. “Don’t rough her up too much. She’s cute.” The smirk he offers is dark and venomous. It’s obviously a gesture he’s made before. “No promises.”

His Nidoking looks similarly rough and tumble. Unfortunately, without his glasses, Damian is almost blind as a bat. Everything in front of him swims into a giant blur.

As the door opens, he pushes her inside. Then, after pausing for a brief moment—like a Watchhog looking for predators—he lets her go. The warehouse is laid out before them in a series of dark humps. It smells stale and moldy. “I really have no idea how you talk that way. Enunciation must have hurt you.” He wipes his hands on his pants.

Then, he pulls on his gloves.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[attr="class","widecurve"]

[attr="class","charicon"]

what happens next occurs rather fast. maisie keeps up with the act, protesting as she's pushed into the warehouse. those protests stop as soon as they're alone in the dimly-lit building, the lights overhead flickering. there's a slight scent of mold in the air, the detective inhaling as she takes in her surroundings. "y'better not ever visit spikemuth then," she comments. "if ya think my accent's bad, you'd never survive there."[break][break]

she glances at the door. "how soundproof d'ya suppose it is?" she asks in a low whisper. "dante should be back anytime with reinforcements-- i got a couple mates with pretty good sniffers, but if i let anyone loose, we'd be screwed if someone came to check on us." this is, she reminds herself, a reconnaissance mission. they want information, and if they have to beat down the goons lurking outside that door, their mission will be compromised. being sneaky is the name of the game, right now.[break][break]

maisie wrinkles her nose and then sneezes. "damn it's dusty in here," she complains under her breath, sniffling.

[break][break]




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[attr="class","nikita"]The detective does not detect mold in the air. A benefit of drowning one’s boredom in nicotine.

When she says Spikemuth, the clues fall into place. There are signs of that town’s mark on the younger investigator. “Work has taken me there before.” His younger years had been punctuated by travel. It allowed him a chance to visit the sights. There was no region the Sokolov had not touched. “It is not an experience I want to repeat.” The accent was only a small part of the problem.

From his jean pocket, Nikita pulls out a pair of strangely shaped glasses. These are passed over to the Nidoking beside him. With surprising delicacy, the poison type settles them in front of his eyes. Little poisonous spikes hold them in place. “I do not think the building is very energy efficient, if that is what you're asking.” Certainly, the common area was a glorified warehouse. “But the other rooms are better.”

At the complaint, Nikita reaches into the pocket of his jacket. “The maid only comes Thursdays, I am afraid.” A kerchief is pulled from the inside While it doesn’t match the rest of his outfit, the man could not give up all semblances of civilization for Lyle. “Here.” At the very least, it could serve as a snot rag. The last thing he wanted to punctuate this affair with was a cold.

After a moment, he turns toward the staircase. “It’s the second door on the right.” His Nidoking takes point. “Stay in front of us.” There may be a need to return to the earlier act. A need that he truly hopes goes unfulfilled.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN