greatinspector | Case File 3 [Voice/Action]

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Case File 3 [Voice/Action]

Inspector Zenigata is not having a good day. Not at all. He'd woken up out by the lake, face down with nothing but his hat, journal and ubiquitous, albeit shredded New Feather pants. The white clothing was torn to strips of cloth, bits of torn fiber strewn around the middle-aged cop. Worse, he had no real memory of the last few weeks save blinding pain, a deep-seeded sense of rage, and a horrific thirst. That...and for whatever reason his normally dark hair was a shade of creamy white. He sits upright, growling slightly and picking up his journal, speaking into the mic.

"Uh...anyone out there? Looks...like I got picked up."

Groggily, the Inspector takes his feet, wobbly looking around to get his bearings. Each step he takes is labored, and his stamina seems all but spent after a mere ten paces. He falls flat on his face with the eleventh, struggling to rise. After a few long moments, he is able to sit up, and poke his nose into the journal again.

"I...uh...could really use some help. I...dunno if I can make it back to town alone."

Nope, definitely not the Inspector's best day.

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Well, that was a familiar voice if he ever heard any! The Inspector's absence lingered long enough that Lupin had come to suspect that it was more than an extended, unannounced fishing trip that lasted right through Christmas and the New Year. It was highly out of character for the old man, thus it had to be a 'pick up.'

Though he was moderately concerned for his rival's welfare, he knew better than to worry to hard. That man had cheated death enough times, and was tougher than Clint Eastwood or John Wayne when he needed to be. He was all right. Maybe a little worse for wear, but all right.

He leaned in too close to the camera, in the middle of his umpteenth Pall Mall since the New Year. "Where are you at Pops? Any idea?"

That was perhaps the last voice Zenigata wanted to hear, as embarrassing a situation as it already ways. He, the great Inspector Zenigata, grabbed up and messed with only to be unceremoniously dumped on the lake edge. The very idea of being helped by Lupin was not, at all, an appealing one but he probably didn't have much of a choice.

"I...I'm out by the lake...looks like."

"The one by Goemon's place?"

It was a valid question; there were two lakes, according to the map. Lupin is tugging on his shoes as he speaks. "I'll be on my way--is there anything you need? Clothing? Blanket?"

Turn for a turn. Pops helped him when he was dropped half naked in the muck, confused and not believing much. Though they had their differences, Pops had always been a welcome ally when times called for it. Though he was never the civic type, helping a friend was always the right thing to do.

"Yea. It looks like Goemon's lake. and I could really use some clothes. Bastards took my jacket."

Then, after a short pause, Zenigata added "I...could also use somethin' warm ta drink. My whole mouth feels like its on fire..."

He wasn't sure WHY he wanted a drink as badly as he did, but he just...needed something. It felt almost out of the ordinary, just how thirsty he was.

"That's...quite a walk, Pops. Even the hottest coffee I can find won't stay hot in this weather."

Even amidst the commentary, he was turning on the coffee and grabbing a trench and fedora. They were tossed onto the couch in a small heap he was starting to make--pants, coat, shoes, fedora. He'd find a duffle bag. There had to be a duffle bag in that mess remaining from those Horoscopes...

He put his own coat on, with scarf and gloves. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Pops. With coffee as hot as I can keep it."

There had to also be a thermos in that mess...somewhere.

"Should be a thermos somewhere in my kitchen..." Zenigata croaked, having quite a difficult time with the burning, desperate thirst.

He flopped back down on his back, exhausted and aching from his ordeal. What the hell had those bastards done anyway? White hair? That shit was crazy! And what was up with being so thirsty all of a sudden.

[Despite the humble comforts it offered, and it being in a quiet, isolated location conducive to his meditation, Goemon spent more hours outside than in the lakehouse, unable to sit still for longer than half an hour. He was plagued by the itch of restlessness - and not even devoting himself to his training with greater determination helped to relieve it entirely. Strangely, for all the unpleasantness of the draft, he had to admit that it had been a change of pace. While he disliked the fact that his involvement was forced, being there had allowed him to apply the skills he was forever honing in some meaningful way... and at least he had been able to protect a few others and himself from the Third Party threat.

It is with these thoughts in mind that he was just about to step out of his house again, meaning to head to town. Unfortunately, he hadn't checked his journal yet so he was unaware of the present situation involving Lupin and Zenigata.]

All of the items in question had been located with relative ease. Pops was right; there was a thermos in his kitchen. Despite the cold, he hadn't bothered with more than the baseline protection as per the bad habit he was developing. The cold, strangely, helped to clear his mind and stimulate activity.

The static nature of Luceti was not agreeing with him at all.

With the duffle bag packed and hot coffee poured, he ruffled the pages to find Goemon and pass the information along.

"Oi, Goemon-chan? Pops was 'napped and dropped in the woods, says he's cold and not moving too well. He's by the lake, your lake. Keep your eyes open--I'll be there asap."

Nothing.

He frowned at the book, not entirely surprised but not too happy.

"Found everything Pops. I'm headed out now--don't you do anything stupid, you hear?" Like he needed warned.

Edited 2012-01-10 16:04 (UTC)

"Thanks Lupin," was really all the Inspector could think to say. The blinding thirst and the dull ache from the experiments drowning out any other thoughts.

The aging detective just slouched down, dazedly staring up at the mid-morning sky.

[Goemon's journal, of course, had been left indoors out of habit; perhaps this will be the event that encourages him to do otherwise, in future. He stepped out the front door and into the cold, not throwing on so much as a scarf to keep warm. Exposing himself to temperature extremes - particularly chilly weather - was a good opportunity not only to test but to strengthen his will and endurance. It had been quite a while since he had last caught a cold, thankfully.

While he did not immediately notice the ~~new and improved~~ inspector on account of his fur having a camouflaging effect, he sensed a strange aura in his midst and caught sight of wings first... and then noted a fedora that much reminded him of Zenigata's. Frowning and on guard, he moved away from his front door, not entirely sure what to make of the sight.]

[Zenigata notices the movement, and looks up to see Goemon a ways off.]

"H...hey. Who's there?"

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