Description: Daniel, after finding a real Shadaloo Doll in the alleyway, takes her back to his apartment to fix her up- And get some answers. Unfortunately, when a young man saves a Baby T-Rex, the mother isn't going to be far behind...
The complex at Gedo Street was very low-priced. You didn't need to look at the actual tag. You could tell by the bums standing right outside of it. Entering the building itself felt like a health hazard. The stairs creaked loudly with every step. There were frenzied shouting across the entire buillding. More bums, including a few very proactive leers at the younger girl with the older man. The land lord didn't even give Daniel a second glance, though. His policy of not asking questions... well, was very enforced, simply because the law might be. Don't ask, don't tell.
The door to the apartment swung open, revealing the room in all of it's grimy glory. The room is relatively clean, in the sense there is no clutter on the floor. On the far wall there is a small couch, littered with a pillow and some blankets. Towards the right, there is a small kitchen with a stove, an oven and a fridge. A few concrete blocks with 2x4s form the shelves, and were lined in some order. Cups and plates on one shelf, pots and pans on another, and other food goods on another. On the left wall, there is a large, cluttered writing desk, and a few more ghetto shelves with books and the like. Right next to that is a small toilet and a very large sink, stacked with dishes. In the middle of the room is a small table, with a phonograph record player on it. And a stereo. But really, a freaking phonograph.
Daniel Jack moves into the room, motioning towards his guest to follow him. "Take a seat, I'll get the stuff together... can you take positive?" The detective doesn't waste time, heading straight for the kitchen side of the room. "And watch out for the waterbugs." He says grimly, hustling to the fridge, opening it wide.
If Marz is even aware of the fact that there are leers cast in her direction, she doesn't show it at all. She hurries along as fast as she can, and makes absolutely no comment about the state of the place. She had, in reality, slept in far worse. One does not execute missions in the middle of Thailand expecting the best in modern luxury and sanitation, after all.
"Yes." She confirms, simply, in regards to the question, and moves to settle herself down carefully on the couch. From underneath her jacket, that familiar little Hello Kitty backpack is produced, and carefully laid down in front of her, before- whilst Daniel is fussing in the kitchen- being pushed back under the sofa with her feet. She ... didn't want to have to break her own equipment to maintain cover. And she really didn't want to have to explain everything that was on there.
That done, she actually relaxes. The girl is obviously exhausted. It's barely been twenty four hours, but it has been a day full of pain, after a night of more pain, and then a bit more pain, and some confusion thrown in for good measure. It was taking its toll.
"Thank you for your help." She mumbles. Though whether or not Daniel can actually hear her, is another matter entirely. "I ... won't forget."
The detective got into many fights. He got into a lot of trouble. And as such, his money was heavily dedicated to his work, his medical costs, and Todoh. Besides, he didn't need many things. Like the whores of Thailand, he was very happy with his squalor. VERY happy, in a hard-boiled sardonic sort of way.
From the depths of the fridge, the detective brings out a large clear bag plastic of blood. Attached to the end of it is a long IV. Grumbling, he raises it high. Being O+ made it is easy to give blood. And Daniel made sure to ALWAYS keep some extra bags of blood around. You never know when you get jumped by a guy with a knife. Or a sword. Or a sword-gun. He could even do basic medical stuff to himself. That's why he knew about the positive thing. If Marz couldn't take positive blood types, she would die in a horrible, painful fashion.
Thank goodness for honestly.
Daniel Jack rushes over, not paying attention to either her stuffed loot or her mumbling. "Okay. Lie down, scuzzy, and stick your arm out. I'm going to jack it in, and pump you full, you dig it?" The detective held out the IV, and suddenly tapped his temple. "Wait, hold it, I need to sterilize." Rushing to the desk, he pushes around the papers. Finally, he draws out a small, unopened bottle of Everclear. Opening it up, he pours the booze over the needle. After a brief period of that, he immediately switches the bottle to his lips. "HOOOOweeee. Okay, now, stick your arm out." The detective wheezes, thursting his needle in the general direction of Marz, poking the air as he approaches for the REAL arm sticking.
Marz watches the man with a kind of... horrified fascination. She felt too detached to really feel like this was real. She knew how to care for herself... but for the moment, it just seemed so much easier to do what she was told, and let him bumble to try and put blood back in her. The worst that could happen is that he'd mess it up and she'd not get the blood... which wouldn't be great, but could hardly be worse than how she felt at the moment. She was quite confident that she wasn't actually going to die of blood loss. The question was only the extent to which she would feel better if she had the proper amount back in her.
The girl lays out on the couch as asked, and presents her arm. She's still wearing the same school uniform, though it is now stained with dirt and torn in several places, but she doesn't ... look like she cares all that much about that herself. She fights to keep her eyes open, though. Having learned the price for failing to forget that.
"When you have put the blood back in me." She says, quietly, her voice level and calm. "May I have some coffee? I need to remain awake. It would help to have something hot as well... you probably want some answers."
Daniel, if he was a real medical professional, would probably realize it was a bad idea to put drugs right into someone's system after heavy blood loss. However, as he usually found that mixing low blood cell count and high alcohol count meant it he was recovering. "Sure, just lets get this IN!" The detective jams the IV where he was pretty sure there was a vein. He hands the bag to Marz, and nods briskly. "Hold this over your head. I'll get the pot going."
Going back over the kitchen, he reaches into the shelves, and draws out a big steel coffee pot and a small pack of coffee grounds. Placing the grounds in the pot, he crosses over to the sink, where he shoves the dishes aside enough for him to fill the pot with water. "That's the plan, missie. I think the big question is what the HELL did this to you, and what happened to Gertrude Gruber, and why YOU aren't involved."
Marz takes the bag, and holds it up over her head. And, then, as the questions are asked, she groans. Shaking her head slowly. "Right. Okay. I'll take this one at a time, then." She grumbles, mostly to herself, before she speaks up again. Louder, it is likely just a combination of the stab from the IV and her psychological relaxation, but she was starting to feel a bit more human again.
"This was done by the same person or being that murdered the other two individuals. It did it by attacking me in my dreams. Now. I don't know why I was picked, or how, exactly, that was done... but it was. Secondly. I /am/ Gertrude Gruber. She is me. ... In as much as she exists at all. Thirdly. I would not ... -do- this to myself. Except for the fact that I'm the next victim, I am not involved at all."
There is a moments hesitation, and then she adds. "Older man, older woman, both locals. Perhaps young foreign girl is next on this things list of people to kill."
Man, you would think being a detective, Daniel Jack would have read the article in-depth enough to notice that the girl who was almost killed was the same girl in front of him. He just kinda guessed that Gertrude Gruber was a separate person, while THIS mysterious fan-girl was the unknown. Man, and he copied the picture and everything. Maybe he might cut back on the drinking while he was investigating.
And he might shoot baboons out his buttocks to shoot down the Hubble Telescope!
Filling up the Coffee Pot, he moves back over to the kitchen, chewing on the bone that Marz tossed out. "Alright, Gurdy, here is the real jumper. What you are spitting makes SOME sense. You got jacked in the same way the other pair got jacked. Silent. Deadly, from within. You got attacked in the dreams. That's REAL sharp, you hear? Real sharp. Now, let me ask you another."
Putting the pot on the stove top, he turns on the heat, letting it work towards perking up. Waltzing over to the poor girl, he looks intently at her, like he is approach something big, scary, and very dangerous for both of them. "When we fought, you shot something at me. A ball of energy. Nothing special about that, except it numbed me tingly. Well, I came across a freak down in Gedo. Same thing, except it was even more powerful. And then, another down at the YFCC. Another kid, like you." Cracking his neck, the detective narrowed his eyes. "Let me ask you something. What is this school of training you hit, and why does it hit the nerves so hard, you dig?"
Marz smiles thinly. It's not that she doesn't want to tell Daniel. It's that she doesn't know how much she can say that is going to make even a lick of sense. So she shrugs lightly, and pulls herself up a bit to face him more fully. The girl exhales slowly, and then shakes her head slightly. "The energy I use comes from within." She says, simply. "Your energy comes from without. It is that simple." Well, there you go, then. Psycho power summed up in a sentence! Next week, quantum physics!
She doesn't stop there, though, instead, she continues. "Energy from within is focused through the mind. It is focused by willpower. I have considered the possibility that this being has used that power to ... rewrite elements of my mind into the form that they now take. I am unable to leave Southtown, and I cannot sleep without it being incredibly painful."
And then she hesitates. Ordinarily, the girl was so... composed, it was difficult to catch her out. But, now, she is obviously doing just that. Not sure if she wants to go on or if she wants to stop there, she clams up. The lack of sleep was really getting to her.
Her short version of Psycho power really makes it easy for Daniel. Really easy. "So... that's why it affects the nerves. It is energy that shoots from the brain... that works with the nerves. Like... psychic energy. You are psychic?" The detective suddenly looks really surprised. considering his range of expressions, this is horrific. Eyes wide, he takes a step back.
"So... I'm not really a dream person, but... what was in this dream? And really, are you psychic? How does that work? Are you just... born that way?" The detective back over at the coffee pot, to see if it is perking up. It isn't. "So yeah. Psychic?"
Marz tactfully ignores the psychic question. Mostly because she had to be in tip-top shape to make the most out of anything approaching 'psychic' that she could do. And right now she felt dead inside, and about as psychic as a rock. She shakes her head slightly. "No." She says, with a loose smile. "Look. The dream... itself, that isn't important. It wasn't my dream, it was forced on me by someone else. Something else. What is important... is that I need you to help me find the person responsible, and we need to ... make them stop."
The girl takes a moment to steady herself, and then she plunges on regardless. "In the dream, I did a lot of ... talking, trying not to fight. It didn't work. But there was a young boy. His voice said that he didn't have a choice, and then I was attacked by a killer clown. Does any of that mean anything to you?"
There were many things that Marz could have mentioned. The avoiding about the psychic raises some red lights. But the clown... the dream was the big one. The scary one. A very important one. The detective's eager look suddenly turned very sick. "A killer clown..." He muttered, eyes growing distant.
He had the dream a short while back. A nightmare, really. "I had the same dream. I was jerked into a strange formless void, and there was a clown on a unicycle. He just smiled, and... well, he attacked me. And we fought, and he nearly... gave me the shaft. But I just woke up, and nothing else happened." The detective looks over the girl, rubbing his chin. "There was no boy though. Though... could it... Is there a way of finding psychics like you?" The detective cracked his knuckles as the coffee perked up. Daniel Jack charged the kitchen, a fresh injection of life filling his body. Collecting two old Ikea mugs, he turns the heat on the stove down. Pouring the coffee in the cups, he calls over. "Do you like creamer or sugar?"
Marz smiles weakly at that. She had tried to avoid the issues about psychics purely because it opens a lot of questions she doesn't feel up to answering... but there were worse labels that could be applied to what she is. "Perhaps." She says, honestly. "It is possible for sensitive users to find one another. As I haven't slept in a long time, I will not be able to do so unless they are very close, though. The whole city reeks of ... something. Unpleasantness. It is like the entirety of Southtown wants us dead."
There is a moments hesitation, and then she adds. "I believe, then, that another piece has fallen into the puzzle. I had the dream after I began trying to find out more about the recent murders. You are a detective. ..." She sighs, and shakes her head.
"But... there is one more thing. My ..." another hesitation. "Father. Will be coming to the city to help me. Us. He is far more adept with this kind of thing than I am." Her voice, suddenly, sounds a lot more confident. "He will know what to do."
"Father?" The detective snaps, putting some non-dairy creamer and sugar in Marz's. In his, everclear. "You told me you were an -ORPHAN-" Daniel Jack carries both mugs back to the girl. "And adept... he is a psychic too." The man glares intensely. "And you can't leave?"
The girl ran through his mind. "And you attacked me before. I am beginning to put together pieces of a puzzle, Gurdy. But it isn't the game you want me to play." The detective snorts. "Still, I don't think you are the murderer. But that boy... I think I am going to do a little more background checking. But here is my big question now." Daniel Jack stares hard at the girl, hovering over her menacingly. "Who -is- your father, sweetie?"
"I am."
Some questions, Daniel Jack, are meant not to be asked out loud - it's one of those skills that /most/ private eyes don't ask. The cowardly ones, at least. Or the smart ones. There are questions which bring answers that cause far too much trouble to ever bring to the light of day. There are questions that cause danger to be asked. There are even questions.. that kill.
The voice that claims parentage over 'Gurdy' is dark, deep and gravelly - the sound of death. It's a voice that has been heard before, more than likely - this man is one who shows himself in public at least once in a while - plus, there was the footage when he attempted to throw his might over a whole country.
Vega.
Lord of Shadaloo.
How did he get in? It's best not to ask - that's another one of those questions. He's not particularly interested in answering it - or addressing Daniel further at the moment. Instead, he's focused on the girl, and his voice is commanding, harsh and crisp. "Marz - Status update, report." For what it's worth, she doesn't have to pretend anymore. This is either because the private eye is not a threat.. or is about to die, to keep the secret safe.
Marz's reaction is near-instant. The girl had been flagging, physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted after days upon days on the barest of rest, the moment that those two simple words are said, however, energy comes flooding back into her form as though she had just woken up after a great deal of rest. The mind can do great things when it is twisted just right, and absolute devotion brings with it the energy needed for her to turn, and salute. Expression suddenly... serious. Where exhaustion had been lending itself to cracks in her mask, now that mask is back full force.
"Sir!" She replies, quickly. "Daniel Jack has helped me to recuperate, with his assistance I have been attempting to piece together a cohesive plan of action. It seems that the psychic veil has begun to solidify, the individual or individuals responsible for this current state of affairs have managed to lay the foundations for their power."
For a moment, her eyes drift back to Daniel, and then they settle on Vega again, and she presses on, swiftly. The words practical tumble out of her mouth, in their haste to get out. "I have also felt the presence very strongly of two other individuals as this power has grown stable. It is possible, though unlikely, that these two are the people responsible for the current situation. I do not believe that they are, purely because the presence who defeated me was incredibly stealthy and would not show itself so openly. On the ... possibility- roughly forty per cent in my view- that they are, though, I have kept this information hidden, as without my assistance Daniel Jack would be devoured very swiftly by the being, and at my current state of operational fitness I am not fit enough to handle combat operations. It was my considered opinion that we would do better to consolidate the resources available to us before making further pushes, Sir!"
And then, that done, she sags. Not /quite/ falling out of her attempt at a formal position. But the exhaustion is obvious. She had never needed to work in such a horrible state before, but she was doing her best to remain professional about her weakness.
The answer freezes the blood of Daniel Jack. The very tone was enough to make the detective feel the dread. Or even the presence. There were many problems with asking questions out loud. They might be answered the same way. Daniel slowly backs away from Marz, face frozen into a 'blue screen of death.' He doesn't show any emotion. Marz's sudden explosion of life and activity is almost a dream as Daniel turns to look at the man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Vega. The leader of Shadaloo.
Daniel knew the man, as well as the organization. A large terrorist group- no. A terrorist group was too... chaotic. A rouge nation without a nation, seeking to conquer the world. This was objectively the most dangerous man in the world. In his apartment. And he was claiming this girl... was his daughter. Her torn clothing. Her damage state. This was a big job, to say the least. It seems that the detective accidently just helped one of the most notorious villains in the world. Or purposefully attacked her.
Daniel Jack looks back and forth between Marz and Vega, the coffee cup in his hand rattling rapidly. The scalding hot coffee was spilling all over his hand, but Daniel didn't notice. He just watched both of the international criminals with that blank, neutral look. He barely understood what was going on. As such, he did the only thing, the only thing that might keep him alive. Following suit after Marz, he just mindlessly saluted. "Um, yeah... c-c. -ck. Can I get you something- to dr-dr. Dr-. Drrrrrrrrink, Sir?"
"So, whatever it is has been more active. Mn. Can you track these people, when it comes time? What is your current level of function?" Vega's talking to Marz like she isn't a girl - and to some extent, for him, it's true. She's a tool - a valuable tool, to be sure. But in the end, a tool nonetheless. He's currently examining said 'tool', to decide how much wear has been placed on it, with an eye towards scrapping and replacing it. However, there's still too much invested in her to simply allow the presence to destroy her mind.
That's /his/ job.
Towards Daniel, bright white eyes stare - narrowed as the man stammers out the offer of refreshment. Deep down, Vega might be amused - it's not often that he deals with 'normal' people - most fighters are less in awe of him than he would like. To see proper fright, ah.. that's like a warm sunny day to him. Without another thought, he stands next to Marz, and places his fingers on either side of her temples. Certainly, it's been a while since he'd given her 'Father's Touch', the feel of his psycho power coursing through her - but he needs to see just how bad things are. Towards Daniel, almost offhandedly, he says, simply. "Water." See, Daniel's still alive! It's good.
Marz, quite ungracious to her host, completely ignores Daniel's stammering and fear. Instead, she is utterly focused on Vega. It was true that she was under tremendous strain, but she wasn't going to let that affect her unduly, if she could avoid it. "Finding them would be no problem at all, Sir. I estimate that I am currently operating at approximately fifty eight per cent of my optimal fighting potential, and seventy five per cent of my usual mental functions. With that in mind, there should be room for error somewhere in the region of five per cent in my own ability to judge my current condition, meaning a total margin of error which indicates I am barely above fifty per cent of my total capacity."
And then his fingers touch her temples, and she gives a little shudder. True, she had never felt /worse/. But Marz wasn't one of the Dolls often sent on extended missions. The constant lack of sleep over numerous days had really worn her down a /lot/. But the worst of the actual physical effects have been held off, at least so far. With the blood supplied by Daniel having helped to replace a lot of the actual life threatening danger. The only issues really plaguing her at the moment, is the fact that she is running on absolutely no sleep, and nothing but caffeine and willpower is keeping her awake. Luckily, so far, she's been able to keep an accurate picture in her mind of just how much caffeine is 'too much'.
So... as a tool, would she still be useful? Well. She can track down these people, and her analysis was not -terribly- effected just yet. But in a straight up fight, her abilities would be quite severely hindered.
Daniel has a long way to go before morphing into a true fighter. One that would rather fight Vega right now instead of getting him a drink. But Daniel had a tenacious grip with a concept he lovingly refers to as 'living.' See, living is sorta like being dead, but the complete opposite. See, unlike being dead, living meant that you did NOT make it seem like a positive thing for Vega to hit you. Daniel enjoyed this condition very much.
As Vega stares at him, tears began to form in the corner of the detective's eyes. He didn't know why they were forming. As a grown man, he didn't cry. But just looking at him made them exist. The African-American has the sudden urge to throw up all over the Dictator's boots. But thankfully, the man frees him with a simple task.
Water.
The detective rushes over to his cupboard, stumbling slightly as the second degree burns began to kick in. He nearly breaks his cup as he slams it on the stovetop. He begins rummaging through the items, looking for a good cup: a clean one. A small tin mug is snatched up, and the detective charges across the small room to the sink. Turning it on, he fills it up with the warm tap water. Breathing heavily, he glances over at Vega a few time, panic slowly building in him. Swallow your fear, Daniel. Just swallow your fear. Shuffling back over to the couch, he holds the mug out gingerly towards Vega, hands shuddering the cup slightly.
Vega's actually used the moment to speak privately with Marz - giving Daniel a task that would take him at least a few feet away, where the Dictator could whisper to his Doll a few more questions, mostly to check her awareness. It's bad - but she still functions. It's certainly something that he'll be able to burn out - eventually. But for now, the body needs sleep, the mind needs to rest - or she'll burn out herself, in much a worse manner. "Sleep, Marz. Father will keep you safe." With that, he exercises a bit of power - Psycho Power washing around Marz' head and illuminating the room in electric blue and purple light. He's setting up something between her and the world - a 'buffer' of sorts. Whatever is coming for her, damaging her, it will have to face /him/ before her, next. For now, he needs a tool that isn't broken.
Water.
"Just set it down. Explain how you found her, where you found her. I need more opinions than just hers on this." Daniel, was it? Vega'll give the man another once over - that same way a predator sizes up prey, and then judges it below the 'legal catch limit'. For now, he's alright - for now, he's safe. "You and I are going to become close friends for the next little bit - because close friends tell each other everything about the people they care for." It's probably the threatening manner in which he says it that it sounds insane and crazy..
Marz actually smiles, something that she does very rarely at the best of times, and the girl sags as the power washes over her. She didn't doubt that Vega would keep her safe... that had been something at the very core of her planning so far. All she needed to do was stay sane and stay safe until Vega could come, because he would know what to do. He doesn't disappoint her, and its the easiest thing in the world to just... let it all go.
Which is precisely what she does. Gratefully, the girl collapses onto the sofa, and is asleep before her head hits the cushion. She had been running on fumes for days. Nothing could feel more like heaven than to let all the stress wash out of her. Of course Vega would keep her safe... there was no force on earth that could stand against him; suddenly, the world seemed like a much brighter place.
Daniel Jack watches the strange glow with wide eyes. This was psychic? Wait, Vega was psychic? The detective couldn't really focus at the moment. There were many things he could handle. Leaders of Shadaloo wasn't one of them. As the orders come, Daniel takes them quickly and effectively. Placing the mug upon the table, he considers the second part of the orders.
Daniel had every reason to be Vega's friend at the moment. Being a friend made him a living person. Instead of dead. At least... at least Marz was doing better. Daniel had to pick his truth very carefully. The original motive of 'beating Marz into a pulp' might lead to 'Daniel != A Happy Living Member of Society' at a very rapid pace. As such, he speaks slowly and very delicately.
"I was doing a job, sir, over by Taiyo. -A job-; I got a message from Gurdy here. To meet with her about something real sharp, real important. I was hoping to get in contact with her for a while. I was digging into information about this thing, using some more... -conventional methods-. I duck into an alley where she is supposed to be stomping, and I found her... like this." The detective motions his hand at Marz, his breathing moving back into stable states. Maybe Vega wasn't that bad of a guy. "I brought her in, and was cleaning her up, shooting the breeze back and forth while getting blood back into her. Apparently, this 'thing' jumped her while she was sleeping." The detective began to motion into his coat, feeling around for his cigarette case. He needed a smoke. Now. Immediately.
"That seems to be the case. It's a presence of some sorts, that makes its mark through people's dreams. The girl you know as Gurdy will be fine, in time. I'll see to it." The threat in his voice is very audible - someone has messed with one of /his/ Dolls. That's made this personal. The fact that it's some sort of psychic attack means that whatever it is has just made an enemy that is probably better at what it does than itself.
He moves to sit on the armchair of the sofa, one hand still on Marz' head, the aura of light around her noggin not flagging at all. Vega's more than capable of doing two things at once - and really, the 'shield' is more just to make him aware when something happens. At that point, well - whatever thinks it has easy prey will be less than pleased to find otherwise. "You've done me a service - I appreciate it. When this is done, I may not simply kill you." Yes, yes, he likes seeing people squirm - the slow grin on his face as he says this is knowledge that he loves to raise those kinds of emotions in folks. "What conventional information did you find? Where are you at in your investigation?"
As Daniel Jack's senses gradually return, the detective starts breaking apart Vega's words. For what good it is worth. At least the detective is developing a sense of self greater than it was a few seconds ago. Vega's tone still forces Daniel in his place. Obviously, someone was screwing with Gurdy. This complicated things in a way, since no one NORMAL or SANE would mess with Shadaloo without having a great deal of power. Maybe it was some sort of shadow psychic organization? But that didn't explain the family...
Daniel Jack shakes his head, drawing out the packet of cigarettes and a match. Pulling out a cigarette, he begins to speak in the same, slow manner. "Middling, when speaking conventional. The same cat who did this job on your daughter did in a few others. A husband and wife. Modus operandi is significant brain hemorrhaging, and usually while the victim was sleeping. Like Meningitis. Except it isn't a bacteria, toxin, virus, anything. The husband was nailed with the same thing in prison. I didn't think much in terms of concrete leads until your daughter revealed me more about it. In her dream, she said she was confronted by a clown... and a boy." The detective adjusted his glasses, lighting up the match and holding it to his cigarette. "This is significant, sir, because I dreamed about a clown, and it attacked me... But nothing happened. And these murders began after the late husband and mother's son... died. And suddenly, there is a boy in a victim's dream."
The detective places the cigarette in his mouth, and takes a puff. "I did research on the family's line. Madness runs through it, though more scatter shot than linear. I figured the deaths were related to a genetic defect, until, well, this." Daniel removes the cigarette, and waves it back at Marz. "I don't know, but I've experienced that kind of power before with two other people. I suspect... judging by your reaction, that this power may be connected to the line, and I... might need to back-check whether or not that power ran through the family." The detective looks strained as he replaces the smoke. He didn't actually know HOW to check for Psycho Users, or what even made them that different, short of the funny numbing and the fact it came from 'within.' Marz's summary wasn't even registered by Daniel Jack.
"It's not always a family trait. The girl isn't mine by blood." No, no, Marz is his in a much deeper way, a much more intrinsic, fundamental manner, having shared a fraction of Vega's power, a 'gift' that ties the girl to him. "It sounds like whatever the boy was is still coming to grips with what occured to it during life." Vega also knows about that, really.
It's familiar, similar to what he did in his death. His own passing had him running about and terrorizing others' minds. Not with the physical changes - and that may be something that needs to be looked into, soon. That kind of power is interesting, indeed. "My current goal is to quickly get her back into a functional shape the sleep will help with that. Afterwards, she'll be enough to draw it out - and /I/ will deal with it." Mutter, grumble. This should have been Rose's job. She's the one who is supposed to help people. Of course, Vega's 'help' may not be something others like.
Not by blood. Adopted? How Vega frames his answer is mystical in itself. It didn't seem like something that was 'taught', and judging by what Marz mentioned earlier, it was something that was 'from within.' Daniel Jack formed together a strange picture, especially with the 'psychic' setting of his mind. This energy was part of a mental world, one that was like a world of dreams. If this was the case, then was... like an infection?
But... what is it?
The detective watches Vega with a blank face. Rose was not someone he knew well. But, if he was to research about this energy, he may be getting to know her very quickly... along with a few of the Psycho Soldiers. Unless, of course, he doesn't leave this apartment alive. As the question of sleeping became apparent, Daniel felt a horrible sense of dread overcome him. "Here, sir?" Daniel Jack asked timidly, a clammy pallor overcoming his face.
".. Pardon me."
Without another word, without so much as a 'thank you for your time', Vega goes quiet. His eyes are open, his breathing steady - but for all intents and purposes, there's 'noone at home' at the moment. Instead, his concentration is flickered about and around Marz, his hand on her head glowing brighter still with that deep blue and purple Psycho Energy. With the sudden stillness, it's quite evident that something in her head has caught his attention - or more to the point, his /full/ attention.
Daniel Jack just holds there a moment, considering his options as Vega suddenly zones out. At the moment, he had one of the world's most genocidal men in his apartment, and he was distracted. Fleeing might adjust the theory about surviving into the more progressive 'technically surviving.' Vega, for better or for worse, was Daniel guest. And heaven knows you don't leave a guest alone in your room.
Shuffling away from Vega, the detective decides to deal with a small problem emerging: the burns on his hand. Hustling back over to the fridge, he springs it open. He then promptly opens the small freezer compartment, and draws out a plastic baggie of tater tots. He holds the bag to his hand, letting it's coolness assist the damage somewhat. Still puffing away at the cigarette, he mulled about what was happening.
Shadaloo was not involved in this mystery. At the same time, the group, or thing, attacked Shadaloo. They also are randomly attacking other people. And the clown. Was there some sort of serial killer psychic roaming around? The strange man who attacked him outside Gedo came to mind. Was there something about this power that drove people... to madness? He glances over at the focused Vega. Where was the good from this power? From Zach, the heartless thief of Todoh-Ryuu Kobojutsu? No. He needed to study this more and more. But where? How? And who?
Suddenly, Marz's eyes snap open, and she gasps, as though she had just pulled herself out of a river. Eyes wide, and breathing in harsh, ragged gasps. She is sweating, and shaking. The girl trembling, though... not enough that she has actually pulled herself out of Vega's grasp. She's actually been quite careful on that front. Making sure that she is still very much in contact with the much larger man.
And then she seems to start to calm down. A faint, ghost of a smile playing on her lips. It was over, at last. And the relief she felt at that was overwhelming. Not quite as much as the absolute gratitude she felt to Vega, of course. But, definitely there.
When, however, she realizes that she can't see Daniel... she swallows lightly. A twinge of worry in her gut. She had hoped that Daniel would survive the encounter... maybe even become a new tool for Shadaloo. But... had she misjudged how much danger she was putting him in?
Absolute gratitude - just as it should be. Vega's staying silent for a moment or two longer - long enough to fix the damage done by the monster in Marz' head. For a moment or two, he almost wishes he hadn't cast half his soul out and away, the part that was concerned with healing, helping. In this, he's less skilled than he'd like to be, a child with all thumbs being shown how to cleanly carve a chicken, then being told to do it alone. It takes time and care, but he manages to do it so that she'll survive, live and serve him well. That, in the end, is good enough.
When his own blank white eyes react, they're looking down at the Doll. He offers her the hint of a smile, Father's warmth - and then it is gone, all business again. Beneath his breath, he murmurs a command to her. "Prepare to leave." He then returns to his feet, to look for.. Ah, yes. Daniel.
"I've done what I've needed to do - the girl will be fine, given time. Now, however - we come to the end of this association." The way he says it is a finale-sounding thing, and the soft glow from his hands that shows just a bare hint, a fraction of his hidden powewr is warning enough. "There is still one thing left, one .. loose end."
The hairs on Daniel's neck shoot up like Nebraska corn. As Vega snaps out of it, he snaps out, nerves still on edge. Gurty was going to be fine? That was fine. The less time Shadaloo spent in his apartment, the more fine it was. Daniel mulled about the whims of this dictator. The greatest concern, naturally, was secrecy. If someone knew that Shadaloo was operating in this fashion... well, hm. The detective latched on to the only potential way to get out, if things turn sour.
By the look of that energy, things were turning sour.
"Sure thing, boss, just lay it straight." Daniel casually shoved the bag back into the freezer, and shut the fridge door with his foot. Hands in his pocket, he bit down on the cigarette as he looked at Vega as calm as he could. Daniel figured he had two doorways by being cooperative with Shadaloo. The first was that as far as Gurty and Vega were concerned, he was a lowlife. A detective, for sure, but easily corrupted. That meant he wasn't in the way. The second option was that if that didn't work, well, Daniel never wanted to die a coward. If this was his time, then by god, he was going to meet it with the dry grit that God graced him with.
Marz finds herself nodding, weakly. It was strange, she had been subjected to such a vast array of hideous emotion in so short a time, so intense, indeed, that she would never have believed herself capable of feeling so strongly. And then... it all went away. Comfortable, sensible, sane reality restored to the chaos of her life in recent weeks. She could breathe again, she had her duty again. That was all she really wanted; lingering doubts about her worth to Vega had, at least, been completely annihilated. She may not be the most combat capable of the Dolls. But she belonged to him, and he had reasserted that ownership absolutely.
Picking herself up, she reaches underneath the sofa, and retrieves her backpack. Slinging that on, she produces a handkerchief, and mops the sweat from her brow. Her expression returns to the one familiar to Daniel from their first meeting. She was still very tired, yes. She would need to rest. But there were more important things to worry about now. And ... none of them were Daniel's fate, any longer. That was entirely out of her hands.
So she stands, legs together, back straight, arms at her sides by the door. Ready to open it at a moments notice, and leave. Probably, never to return.
"That thing - it's unrefined hate and pain. Whatever caused it, has no control over it now. You're working to find out what caused it - look for abuse, death. Family strife not caught until a child died. You search there - and then, find a fortune teller named Rose. A woman named Asamiya - and a man named Towazu. Those three - they will know what to do."
He turns away from Daniel, a slight grin on his face as he places his hand on Marz' shoulder, steering her towards the door. They have nothing left to tell him - at least not yet. At the doorframe, he stops. One hand on Marz, one hand on the door, he turns and looks over his shoulder, eyes amused. "It may be .. best to not mention /my/ part in this, Daniel. We have .. history. Shadaloo owes you a debt, minor though it may be. In the future, we will find a way to repay it."
Rose. Asamiya. Towazu. Daniel Jack takes the names in with a beartrap. This entire nightmare was reaching a point of clarity. Still smoking the cigarette, a warm bubble of comfort came over him as Gurty got up to leave. She might never return. Thank heavens for that, Daniel considered. Dames. Nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, judging by the titles, he had two more dames to run into. A hippie, and a whatever. At least the man sounded tough. The family strife rang interesting in his mind. He never considered the significance in this whole web of strife. After all, what did emotional turmoil had to do with a mysterious case like this?
Saluting Vega, Daniel Jack gave a steady, single nod. "Your secret is safe with me, Boss. Rose, Asamiya, Towazu. I'll hunt them down, real solid." Daniel didn't even want to consider having Shadaloo being in his debt. It felt more of a liability than a benefit. People kill debtors, it was a fact of tyranny.
Marz, for her part, simply listens, and when Vega makes it clear that it is time to go, that is precisely what she does. She doesn't even look back at Daniel on the way out, though throughout the speech, she watches him. Her eyes betray that she is still not quite recovered, but remain remarkably piercing. Yes, Daniel. They said. I did all of this to you, but now we're going away. And if you are very lucky, you'll never feel the urge to try and cash in that little bit of debt.
And, without so much as a whisper, she is guided out of the apartment, grateful for the support of Vega in that she wasn't... one hundred per cent certain of where her feet were relative to the rest of her body. The door closes behind them...
And Daniel is alone.
Log created on 17:52:10 01/06/2009 by Daniel, and last modified on 15:40:54 01/23/2009.