Realistic or Modern Orthrus Detective Agency

[OverconfidentMagi]

A pallid man with stark white hair took a long sip of steaming-hot tea from an ornate teacup. He'd prepared the tea himself, just now in fact. The small portable burner he'd used was sitting on the grass just by his feet, next to the umbrella he'd brought to deal with the rain that would soon fall, which in turn leaned against the old twisted tree that the man drinking tea also leaned against. It was the only tree present in the cemetery, predating the oldest names on slabs of stone that surrounded it by a hundred years at least. The man wore a suit as pitch black as he himself was cast in white, with an old-fashioned top hat tipped forward to shield his eyes from the shining sun. How incredibly insensitive, he thought of it.

Mars sipped his tea as he listened to Dorian talk about the deceased's soul and all that religious drivel. Dorian might still have the baby face of a kid, but he was a good priest, which made him one of the few believers in God willing to associate themselves with Mars, and the only one willing to show up and speak on such short notice. He was a good man, despite the whole God thing. Around him was a crowd of mourners all dressed in dreary shades of black entirely separate from the cheerful shade he'd picked out special just for this occasion.

As the ceremony wound down and the casket was lowered into the cold damned earth, the one person Mars hadn't paid to be here made their way towards him. And he'd picked out this spot specifically so that no one would bother him. What a bother. He lowered his tea and set the cup on the matching saucer held in his other hand. "Why my dearest Juliet, fancy meeting you on this fine mor-"

The dark-haired woman slapped the cup and saucer out of his hands, shattering the cup. Her finger stabbed accusingly at the place Mars' heart would be, shaking unsteadily so he predicted he'd probably live if her finger fired a bullet. "Don't! Don't you dare!" The woman's tear-marked eyes were full of nothing but pain and fury and loathing for the person before her. "This is you. This is your fault. If not for you. If not for you my son would still be here!"

"I assure y-"

Mars was silenced by a stinging slap across the face. "SHUT UP! Shut up shut up shut up. You always talk, but none of it's true! You're just a liar! You're rotten, and you killed my little boy." The woman began to lose her composure and break down in tears, but pushed through with the same indomitable will her son had inherited from her. "I hate you, Mars. Did I ever say so?"

"Yes," Mars answered truthfully at risk of being slapped yet again.

"Good." She nodded and turned to walk away, something in the way she stepped making Mars wonder if she'd go home and kill herself. Dorian would not like that if she did. Something about suicide being bad for the soul. But what another person decided to do on their own time in the comfort of their own home really wasn't any of his business, so he just watched her retreating back until she was gone and the sky grew overcast and the rain began to fall.

He unfolded his umbrella and walked out of the cemetery, waiting patiently until Dorian's obnoxious red sports car pulled up. The priest was his ride back into the city. Mars didn't drive, and the preacher's church was relatively close to the area of the city he called home.



Dorian dropped Mars off just outside where the city morphed into something more foreign. As a man of God, Dorian held an inherent disliking for the Godless culture of the eastern world, and this manifested in his stubborn refusal to enter the Chinatown area. So Mars walked the rest of the way. He dragged the tip of his umbrella along the ground, moving it to the wall when available, as he walked. The ugly painted sign of the shop appeared before him, attempting to depict a cup with a curl of smoke in the shape of a question mark rising from it. He thought is just looked like a question mark above a rectangle, which really made just as much sense. The shop was called Zoubusi according to the old bat who owned it. It meant something along the lines of "no dying!" in a heavy old Chinese woman accent. Considering the owner of that shop was older than the dirt she passed off as traditional medicines and still as lively as the day they first tried to embalm her, he was inclined to believe she knew a thing or two about the "no dying!".

Mars walked past the store and turned into the narrow alley that ran beside it. That was where there was a set of stairs leading down below street level, and a thick dark metal door with the words painted upon it, in plain English: Orthrus Detective Agency. There was a sticky note stuck to the door, now wet by the earlier passing shower that read: Now Hiring!

He simply opened the unlocked door to his workplace and home and let it slam shut behind him. The basement space was filled with all manner of strange items. There was a fun variety of medieval torture equipment lining the walls, including the prize of Mars' collection, a full-size iron maiden sitting in the corner. A large locker took up most of the far wall, just behind a large pool table covered in various occult symbols. The right wall was mostly shelves of old books, with the occasional children's book simply slotted in between tomes of demonolgy and astrology. The left was taken up by a sitting area: a couch, uncomfortable-looking chair, table, a TV, the usual waiting room setup. There was even an old quarter gumball machine standing up next to the wall, the source of much of Mars' diet. In place of any recognizable hue of paint, the walls were wallpapered by various candy wrappers bard had worked his way through over the past few years. The cieling was similar, but rather than wrappers it was covered in pictures and articles, with loops of string and thread of different size and color hanging down and connecting various completely unconnected points to one another. Mars liked how it looked, despite it being completely useless to try and decipher and meaning from. And sitting on the floor just inside the door was a casket, identical in every way to the one he'd watched be lowered into the ground and buried just hours ago, wrapped in thick metal chains with a padlock.

After staring at the casket for a while, Mars picked up the human-sized container and gave it a knock. "No one home." So he dragged the casket out of the way, giving it the esteemed position of leaning up against Alice, which was simply his name for the iron maiden. He thought it looked like Alice from Alice in Wonderland.

Mars fell heavily onto the couch, nearly slipping into unconsciousness the instant his head touched a pillow. A week of staying up just to make sure the body didn't get up and trigger another zombie apocalypse was a real pain. Pain. Mars' body was full of it. He let it all fade away as he drifted off into the kind of dying that only took a cup of coffee in the morning to recover from. Well, maybe two cups. He was completely exhausted after all.

 

[KamiKahzy]

The rain was always a constant in the city this time of year, something you just accepted as fact if you lived here long enough. The only people running from it were the young, the new and the transient. Nobody else cared, because nobody else had time to care. Cities always moved fast and New York was the fastest city on earth. The locals that lived here learned how to survive out of necessity: keep your head down and go with the flow. And that flow brought everything into the sewers eventually.

Mason wasn't any different for most of his life. He always went with the flow, with one notable exception. And it was because he decided to swim upstream that he was now confronted with his current predicament. Cold, borderline homeless, and nowhere left to turn. This would be his last chance, one final attempt to get something of his old life back before he was forced to look for 'alternative' solutions.

This was just above the bottom of the list of things he didn't want to be doing, but desperation is one hell of a motivator. And so he made the trip. He put on the coat, turned up the collar and walked into Chinatown. The bright lights flashing against the dingy steel and concrete had always given Mason a mixed feeling of comfort and disgust, much like the collection of smells wafting up from the various stalls and dumpsters lining the streets. The map on his phone was sketchy at best, Chinatown had never been an easy location for Google. But thanks to some rather... specific details left in the paper ad, Mason felt confident he could find the place he was looking for.

And lo and behold, after a few wrong turns and braving to ask directions from the few relatively tolerable locals he could find, Mason found himself in front of a dilapidated sign hanging above some kind of drug store. The building was old, very old in fact. Probably built the same time Chinatown was founded, if the warped glass and splintered wood paneling was any indication. Apparently it specialized in traditional medicines, which Mason knew from experience meant lots of expensive shavings and excrement from various sources. Thankfully it wasn't the drug store that he was looking for, but rather the alley beside it which led to a concrete stairwell with a cast iron railing. Mason tromped down the stairs, his feet feeling heavier with every step as he reached his eventual destination. When he reached the door his fears were all but confirmed when he saw the post-it stuck to the door. 'Well, so much for professionalism,' he thought as he stared absently at the damp note haphazardly clinging to the door by its corner. Mason took a deep breath to clear his head, then took the sticky note off the door and placed it inside his coat pocket. With no small amount of trepidation Mason opened the door and walked inside the Orthrus Detective Agency.

A bell rang as the door swung in, and what Mason found inside defied any of his expectations. He honestly couldn't tell if he was inside an antique store or a serial killer's den. All of his senses were on high alert as his eyes scanned the eclectic assortment of things just strewn about the place. In particular he zeroed in on the casket leaning up against the... was that an iron maiden? Regardless, his old instincts had kicked in when he saw the chains and padlock, so he immediately began searching the wood for any signs of movement or structural weakness. In fact Mason was so set on making sure the casket was safe that he failed to notice the pale man laying on the couch right next to it. Mason must have looked like a shabbily dressed statue for the man, a statue dressed in a drab gray overcoat, mud spattered slacks and sporting a wild, soggy mess of black hair.

It took Mason almost a full minute before he was satisfied the chained coffin wasn't a threat, for the time being. Once he relaxed a little Mason finally took notice of the pale man on the couch. Yes, based on the reports he saw at the station that was definitely him. Mason nodded his head once to himself in confirmation, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the damp post-it from the door. He held it out so it was reasonably visible to the man and asked in a hard tenor voice, "Is this still valid?"

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

An itch in his side dragged Mars back from the blissful edge of oblivion. The sensation indicated that someone had triggered the ward around his hideout, and the fact that it was just a bull itch and not a worse pain told him that the intruder wasn't anything worth getting up off the couch for. He really wished the warding extended a little further out, even just to cover the alley outside, and when he'd first gotten it put up it had, but the witch who had created the ward and whose magic maintained it had complained about people moving through the alley setting it off too often. So he'd pulled it back to just cover the inside of his basement abode. Really he wasn't sure why he still kept it at all. The stupid bell was just as useful, and it didn't make him itch.

Mars watched the man with one amber-red eye as he looked around the room, appearing to simply not see Mars lying there on the couch. How incredibly rude of him. Well, just because the man appeared to be mundane didn't mean he wasn't a threat. A human with a loaded gun could end a life as easily as an undead lich casting an instant-death spell. Mars mused on how he would go about dealing with this particular intruder when the man finally took notice of his presence. He reached into his pocket. Mars' entire body tightened in anticipation of, within the span of the next few seconds, having to avoid death or personal injury by the most narrow of margins while also delivering a critical blow to this person and eliminate the threat they posed. But the man simply pulled out a damp, slightly-crumpled sticky note, one that Mars recognized. He immediately relaxed. Thank the gods, he didn't have the energy or patience to be dealing with half-assed assassination attempts today. The only things he had in his pocket to use was a pencil and a quarter, and both seemed like overkill.

"Is this still valid?" The man asked.

He sounded like a wuss, but Mars needed a new partner, and a wuss could serve just as well as a distraction as any other sack of meat. A wide smile stretched across Mars face. "That depends. You want the job?" He still hadn't moved from his position of comfort on the couch, and he had no intention of doing so.

 

[KamiKahzy]

'Greeeat,' Mason thought to himself, 'This guy's going to be a right pain in the ass, I can already tell.' He was slumped over the couch like he'd just woken up from a nap, and with the bags under his eyes Mason wondered if he wasn't actually sleep deprived. Mason could only wonder what would cause a man like Mars to go without sleep for extended periods, but thinking back on his file he probably didn't want to know. Mars had always been a thorn in the side of NYPD, a consequence of his ability to always narrowly wiggle his way out of a conviction. Lack of evidence most times, lack of witnesses several others.

But with no good options left, Mason decided to put his cards on the table and see how Mars reacted. He put the post-it back in his pocket and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly at the man in the top hat. "That depends. You willing to hire an ex-cop?"

And just like that it was Mars' move. If Mason struck out here then that was it, nobody in the city would hire him for his skill set. And he'd have to look for another way to provide for her.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

"Do you have a hearing retardation of some sort?" Mars' smile remained through his pointed words. "I asked if you wanted the job. I didn't ask about your past. I genuinely do not give a damn where you've come from or what bad decisions led you to me. If you want the job, it's yours. If not, kindly turn around and leave."

In truth, Mars was intrigued. A cop? He'd interacted with the pigs on occasion doing what he did. Too often in his opinion. Most of them were blind little piglets, but a few had been around long enough to get a feeling that there was more. Not all crime scenes were explainable, or cleaned up before the police saw. Mars was still curious what they were saying had caused the road collapse when he'd rode that giant alligator through the sewer system for hours a few months back. His plan had been flawless, he just hadn't accounted on the thing breathing fire to burn through the nets. Maybe that had been his own fault. The thing had been living beneath a Taco Bell when he'd found it. When he'd finally killed the thing, it had kind of... blown up, collapsing the road up above. No one had died, so he considered it a job well done. Man that had been fun...

Mars blinked, realizing he'd almost dozed off thinking about lizards and pigs. He refocused on the man standing in front of him. An ex-cop... that might prove useful. Or incredibly hazardous. It could go either way. Better to throw the guy into a life-or-death situation early on and see how he did. Mars came to a decision and nodded his head. "Actually either way, leave. I haven't slept in days, and I'd very much like to start working off that debt." He closed the one eye that had watched the man before him, moving slightly to get more comfortable on the couch. "There's a tea shop across the street just a short ways down. It has the ugliest pink flowers just outside the doors, hard to miss. Tomorrow at 1. Try not to be early." The pale man grew silent, all signs pointing towards him having nodded off.

 

[KamiKahzy]

"...Right." Mason just stood there in what he could only presume was Mars' office, still not quite believing what he was seeing. This was the infamous Mars Mondelez? The man that the department blamed for nearly one tenth of New York's annual property damage? He certainly looked like the sociopath his psych profile suggested, but his lackadaisical approach had Mason doubting his reputation. A nuisance sure, but an 'active threat to public safety' seemed like a stretch. Then again the man did have torture implements hanging on the wall. Probably wasn't a sign that he was the amicable sort.

Still, poor attitude aside, it wasn't a 'no'. So without any further words Mason simply left the shop the way that he came in and made his way back home, such as it was. And just as Mars had asked, the next day Mason did indeed find himself sitting at the tea shop that had been described. And he had to admit, the flowers were pretty gaudy. Bubblegum pink of all things, Mason almost thought they were plastic until he saw an employee watering them. Mason sat in a fresh change of clothes, thankfully much cleaner and drier than his had been yesterday with the passing of the rain. His grey overcoat was still on, though unbuttoned so the plain white button-up beneath was visible. His black slacks were no longer mud stained, and his old oxfords weren't even at their worst after he'd taken a brush to them. His black hair was reasonably combed, though the steadily souring expression he wore certainly marred his appearance.

Mason quietly sipped on a cup of green tea he'd ordered to pass the time. He raised his left hand and checked his watch: 12:45 PM. Mason didn't much care if Mars told him to not be early, you can't unlearn years of habit overnight. And so Mason waited patiently for his would-be employer, himself genuinely curious as to how this meeting would go down.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

"So, what do you think?" Mars was leaning against the metal railing of the building's fire escape, speaking to the person doing the same across the gap between the two buildings.

The other person was a woman with the same unnatural white hair that, if not for his attitude getting there first, would make him stand out in a crowd. She stared down between the buildings, across the street, and at the man who sat sipping his tea completely unaware of the two people watching him. Mars was uncharacteristically silent for the handful of moments it took the woman to read the man. She broke the connection and downed the glass of whiskey she'd been clutching. Her vibrant green eyes seemed to fade and fill with an apathetic grey as she lowered the glass and met Mars' gaze. "He feels mundane."

Mars continued to stare at the man. "There are countless ways to die that I'd consider mundane. Could you see his intentions?"

The woman shrugged. "Light grey, slightly stormy. He's conflicted about something, but the movements aren't too extreme. So it probably isn't something you have to be overly concerned with. I doubt he's planning on killing you right now."

Mars pushed away from the rail and smiled. "Come now, my dearest Ava, we both know there are plenty of individuals who would't be the least bit troubled by the thought of killing me." This drew a hint of a smile to the woman's face, if only for a moment. He continued on, "No signs of being a puppet?"

She shrugged again. "I doubt he's been wiped recently, the ego seems healthy. If he is, he's an old plant."

"It sounds like he's actually just here for the work," Mars said with a deep sigh. "Apologies for waking you up and wasting your time. I'll let you go back to bed now. If I need your services in the future I'll let you know."

The woman shrugged and started back up the unsteady steps of the fire escape. Her long pajama bottoms caught on a piece of metal, but she simply pulled until it ripped and continued on.

Mars watched her until she reached a landing and turned, then he switched to staring as his new partner to avoid meeting her eyes. Aveline was a tool. A useful, and dangerous, tool. Just like everyone else. His amber eyes narrowed as he watched the man below.


At 1:01 exactly, Mars pushed through the doors of the tea shop where he was supposed to meet with his new partner. He was wearing a purple shirt with a white coat hanging loosely around him. When no one came to greet him at the door, he called out, "Honey, I'm home~" towards the back. Immediately a stream of unhappy Chinese could be heard. Mars chuckled and quickly found his seat across from his young grasshopper, laying his black umbrella across the table in front of him. The same woman who had so politely taken the other man's order and brought him his tea now stormed towards Mars. He greeted her with a smile. "Good morning to you too, Suyin."

"What you doing here? You no good. Always trouble me. Why you not die yet!"

Mars smiled even wider. "I try, but it never sticks. Anywho I'm meeting with my friend here. I thought I might try actually ordering this time."

The Chinese woman narrowed her eyes, wary of the snake right in front of her. "What you want then?"

"I'll take a coffee."

The woman almost murdered a customer in her own shop, but managed to restrain herself. She walked away with a polite prayer of, "I hope you die very soon."

Mars turned to his new partner with an unconcerned smile. "So, now that I'm not quite as depraved as I was yesterday, at least in terms of sleep, wait no that's deprived. Strike that from the record. Let's start this again. The name's Mars. What can I do for ya?"

 

[KamiKahzy]

If there was any solace to be had in this moment, it was that Mason wasn't the only one put off by Mars' 'charms'. Following that particular display Mason decided to take a minute and study the man's attire. Just as boisterous as yesterday, though somewhat cleaner given the hour. But what really caught Mason's attention was the eyes. He'd seen that kind of predatory look before, and it didn't sit well with him. Before he settled on anything here he knew he'd have to try and gauge Mars' character. He had a hunch, but you never really know a person until you speak with them yourself.

So after Mason took one last sip of his tea, he set the cup down and folded his hands in front of him on the table before speaking in a very direct tone. "My name's Lionel Mason. I'm looking for work, and apparently you're hiring. I looked you up because you're the only one in town that can make use of my experience in NYPD's Paranormal Affairs department. Or rather, you're the only one in town that I couldn't confirm as an outright gang posing as a 'pest control' service. I've been trained to deal with paranormal beings and phenomena, and I'd rather not let that training go to waste. I need to pay my living expenses, so here I am."

Mason sat back and reached into his pocket, casually pulling out a pack of Marlboros and a Zippo lighter. The graphic on the Zippo was that of a roaring lion, which split itself horizontally through the mouth when it was opened. Mason flicked open the lighter and quickly sparked up a cig, then clicked it shut and replaced it in his pocket while the cancer stick hung from his lips. With his hands free Mason reached up and took a healthy drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before blowing it out his nose. He carefully flicked the ashes into an ashtray and then deigned to look back at Mars before he continued with his pitch. "So if you're still willing to hire me after all that, I'd like to know how much pay to expect, and just what the hell you'll be expecting me to do. Your file is... inordinately extensive back at the station, but oddly lacking in details."

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

"Oho, a lion he says." Mars' smile sharpened. "A lion certainly wouldn't feel at home among pigs and sheep. It's better down here with the snakes and wolves and other things that would sink their teeth into you as soon as smile back."

Suyin dropped a cup of dark brown liquid onto the table and walked away again.

"Xiexie my dear," Mars thanked her back. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. "Hmm, this tastes like dirt."

Suyin looked back over her shoulder. "That is because I put dirt in."

Mars shrugged and set the cup down. "And you wonder why you have so few customers. Well, at least bring the sugar. This isn't going down without it."

The Chinese woman brought a container of sugar and again left. Mars began scoping small spoonfuls into the cup before him. He spoke to Mason, now Leo in his mind, as he did. "Again, I must beg you to see a doctor about your apparent hearing retardation. Its progression is quite concerning, and I doubt I'd be able to suffer working alongside someone whom I must constantly repeat myself around." Another scoop of sugar into the cup. He stirred the mixture and gave it a sip. "No no, not nearly enough. As I said before, if you want the job, it's already yours. And even though you did ignore me saying specifically not to show up early, you did show up, so I take it you do want the job. Well, you can shut the hell up with all those maybes and ifs, it's yours."

"But if you feel the need to mention your PA experience, you must think that you know how to handle yourself when it comes to... more unusual cases. I'd like to ask a few questions to see just how much that failure of an institution has filled your head with useless mud." Mars took another sip of his drink, choked, and set it back down. "Disgusting, absolutely disgusting."

"Scenario one. You've just woken up after a particularly wild night. Alcohol, drugs, sex. The works. You don't feel very good. You have a headache, and your body feels strange, and your neck in particular hurts. You stumble over to the mirror to take a look, but nothing appears even when you stand right in front of it. Give a possible explanation of what has happened here."

"Scenario two. You have been bitten by a werewolf. The full moon rises in one week. You do not wish to harm or kill anyone, but you do not have access to any method of controlling or suppressing the transformation. What do you do?"

"Scenario three. You have somehow triggered an ancient curse. The curse works by draining the soul until the body dies. If nothing is done, you will die in four days. Assuming you are unable to lift the curse, how could you ensure you would live to see a fifth day?"

"Scenario four. You are aboard a cruise liner. There has been a zombie outbreak aboard the ship, and a number of the crew and passengers have already been infected. Before dying, one of the crew sent out an emergency signal, and now there is another ship headed that way. How would you handle this situation?"

"Scenario five. You encounter a gorgon. She is incredibly beautiful. She is also naked, with voluptuous breasts. Where do you look?"

"Scenario six. I gave the woman who runs this tea shop your description, in great detail. I then instructed her, if you arrived before myself and ordered a drink, to poison the drink. Without the antidote, your internal organs will begin to shut down in a matter of hours. Of course, I alone possess the antidote. What do you do?"

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason studied the man across from him carefully as he rattled off his different scenarios. The spark at the end of his cigarette steadily crept through the paper and tobacco as he listened, idly feeding his lungs with a steady supply of numbing poison. Which was ironic when Mars finally got around to his last point, which Mason simply cocked a brow at for lack of a better response. The farce playing out before him was feeding him a great number of details that he was hoping to get, and frankly none of them were what he hoped for.

Mason took one long drag of his cigarette before he decided to start answering Mars' little quiz in numerical order.

"First, the overarching answer is that any of these could be an illusion so your first move is to try and reassert your grip on reality in whatever way makes sense to you." Mason then reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out an old iron locket, which he opened for only a split second to glance inside before shutting and putting away again. He didn't bother explaining before he plowed on into the rest of his response.

"Scene one: Vampire is the Hollywood choice and reasonably viable to check for, but there are other obscure options for what might have happened. In particular there are any number of beings that may have damaged or attack the soul which would obscure one's reflection. Or a spirit could just be playing a prank on you. Or you're trying to be a smartass and expect me to guess the mirror is fogged over so all I have to do is rub my hand across it to see the giant hickey that's stuck to my neck. Or that the lights aren't turned on or some bullshit like that."

"Two: Jump off a cliff. Near as I can tell you just theoretically eliminated all options of control or restraint, so suicide is what's left."

"Three: If it's a simple riddle then I'm afraid I don't know that one. If it's more literal then my guess would be to put yourself into a coma and sleep through it, though I'd need to research that for details."

"Four: Quarantine the situation as best as can be done. Get the other ship to divert until the status of the first boat can be confirmed. If it's viral then extermination might be the best solution, but if it's voodoo or curse related then it might be possible to save lives by neutralizing the curse originator."

"Five: I'd look at the tail because that's the part nobody bothers to keep track of, and you don't want it sneaking up on you."

"And six." At this point Mason made an effort to take one last long drag of his cigarette, nearly depleting the whole thing to the filter, before leaning forward and extinguishing the butt in Mars' sugar-mud-coffee. Mason then, still leaning forward, looked Mars straight in the eyes and spoke lowly with a complete lack of emotion. "Call your bluff. The waitress isn't nearly a good enough actress to pretend her hatred for you isn't genuine, so there's no way in hell she'd do anything for you even if she was bribed or threatened. The owner I have no leads on, but I'm willing to bet you're not in their good graces either. Which really doesn't matter because this place is fairly public, and you don't strike me as the type to risk open murder on a lark. And I know it would be a lark because I know you've already analyzed me for any threats, and found me wanting. You've got the eyes of a hunter, someone who likes to size up a situation before he plays with his food. You watched me back at your office and you watched me from the alley across the way before you decided to sit down. So since I'm clearly not a threat to you, killing me would be strictly for entertainment. And despite all the shit and hearsay I've picked up on you, you've never struck me as that type of psychotic. Not even now."

Mason then reached forward and stuck his finger into Mars' drink, pushing it to the bottom and dragging up whatever residue could be found down there. He brought it out and examined the wet specks of brown that stuck to his skin, then he stuck the finger in his mouth and considered the flavor. Mason pulled the finger out of his mouth, smacked his lips once, then came back to Mars to say matter-of-factly, "And you're right, that does taste like dirt."

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

"Oh?" Mars stared at the human sitting across from him at the table. His very first words were intriguing, but the following answers only supported what Mars already suspected. "You wouldn't happen to be an idiot, would you?" There was no accusation or malice in those words, it was a question spoken with the same tone of innocence that wouldn't have been out of place from the lips of a child. Coming from Mars though, it was more unsettling.

"Before I tell you why you're an idiot, let us first address your very rational fear of mental manipulators. If a truly skilled illusionist gets into your head, there is absolutely nothing that you can do. You've lost. Donezo. Game over. Even acknowledging that you think something is off can put your life at risk at that point. Compared to subtly altering how one perceives the world around them, how hard do you think simply turning off a human brain is? It's almost effortless." Mars spun his umbrella he'd set across the table, hooking Mason's cup and pulling it into his own waiting hand. He went to down the rest of his tea, only to find the cup already empty. "Tsk." He set his dirty coffee cup on top and pushed both towards the end of the table. "We will go over methods of protecting your mind from malicious tampering in the future, assuming said mind ever shows a reason it would be worth protecting."

Mars had been carrying on with his usual somehow-sincere-yet-not-quite smile, but now he crossed his arms and frowned. "Rude and malinformed, with self-destructive thoughts and habits, unable to think critically or creatively, a distinct lack of empathy, and absolutely worst of all: completely lacking in any shred of fun or humor. Tell me, are you always so miserable, or is this a special occasion?"

Suyin chose then to pick up the cups, and Mars' hand snapped out to grab her wrist. The Chinese woman froze, to her credit suppressing any kind of sound at the unexpected action. Her dark eyes met with Mars' own. He released her wrist as his bright smile returned. He handed her a crisp twenty dollar bill. "No change please." The woman hurried off, Mars' eyes following her until she was out of sight. He then stood. "Come, there's someone you need to meet."

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason snorted audibly when he heard Mars' assessment of himself. "Of all the people on this planet, I think you're the least qualified to label anyone as 'rude'." But beyond that, Mason couldn't really deny much of what Mars said about him. Sure he liked to think he was a critical thinker, but when you've only been given token training on the occult and a handful of years of on the job experience, the last thing you could ever say is that you're an 'expert' in your field. The fact he was still breathing after facing the few things he'd seen was testament to something, but whether that was from luck or skill was still in debate.

Regardless Mason still wasn't keen on following Mars anywhere just yet, and he made his apprehension crystal clear. "I haven't taken the job yet, and you still haven't answered my questions. So until I get some clarity on what role you expect me to fill, I'm not moving."

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars stared down at the cowardly lion, his eyes filled with malicious humor. "Until I deem you to no longer be a liability to yourself and those around you, you would be little more than an intern. If by some miracle you are still around when you somehow near that point, you will be promoted to an equal partner. Your pay depends on the work you do, with generous compensation for personal danger or injury incurred on the job on account of no health insurance. Speaking of, do you drive? That would be an additional role with its own financial compensation on top of your base pay. And since you seem to be working through a personal rough patch of life, should you choose to accept the position, you will be immediately compensated..." Mars made a show of counting on his fingers. "Let's say ten thousand? Yes, ten thousand, payable in cash, gold, or silver."

Mars tossed his closed umbrella into the air and caught it again. "Now, if you are quite done wasting both of our time, we really do need to be going." He stepped past the seated Lionel with a purpose in his step that indicated an expectation that the other man would follow. But even if that was the case, Mars still let the door of the tea shop slam shut behind him as soon as he'd passed through.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason's face went completely blank when his brain registered the absurd figure Mars threw out on a whim. Immediately red flags were going off about the validity of that statement. Judging by his office alone Mason highly doubted the man had more than a few grand to his name, let alone more than ten in disposable income. But if by some miracle it was true, then that almost made the situation worse. Where the hell would a man like Mars have acquired that kind of money? Mason rather doubted a man like Mars could keep so much money legally under New York law. But most likely of all that money would wind up being stolen from someone else, and nobody was willing to just let ten grand go without a fight.

...But it was there, right out in the open. And if there was even a hint of truth to what Mars was saying, Mason couldn't afford to pass it up. So Mason gathered himself and set off after Mars, not quite believing he was doing so even as his feet kept pace with the ostensibly dressed prick. Maybe it was pure desperation, but maybe there was a hint of curiosity buzzing around Mason's brain that made him follow Mars out of the cafe and down the street. Mason supposed he'd find out soon enough once things started happening, which he could only begin to fear what those things might be.

And it was just moments before Mason realized they were heading back towards Mars' office that another realization hit him. Mars never said what the proffered 'ten thousand' was supposed to be. He groaned audibly as his hand smacked his face, silently cursing himself, then wondering if Mars would try to insist it was pennies or pesos he was supplying.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

An exasperated groan came from somewhere behind Mars. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done to cause it, but he accepted the compliment with an irritating smile nonetheless. At least he now knew for certain that it was Lionel following and not some corporate assassin or mundane mugger. He crossed the busy street, paying no heed to the people and wheeled things he inconvenienced with his passing. Thankfully his destination was only a short trek down the road. He stopped in front of the ancient drug store that sat on top of his humble workplace.

He spun around on his heel, falling backwards to lean against the old wooden door. "Welcome to Zoubusi. Watch your hands. Half of the so called medicines the old bat inside sells can kill you, and the other half she'll kill you for touching." And with that he pushed the door open and fell into the shop, in one smooth motion twisting back around and raising his arms to show off the space inside. Which... there was surprisingly little. There wasn't a single actual area of wall visible, every inch of it hidden behind drawers marked in messy Chinese symbols on cracked yellowing paper slips, or else bowed shelves overfilled and piled high with books that looked like they'd disintegrate if anyone ever tried peeling apart their pages, with every other available nook filed with strange unnameable plants. There were plants growing up the walls and beams overhead like ivy, flowers sticking out of impossible places, and smaller growth poking out of pots and cups and at least one tiny thimble that took up every available surface. Mars glared at some point in the ivy-covered ceiling, and and something unseen could be heard retreating through the leafage.

Mars led his lost little lion through this initial disgusting mess, where the back portion of the shop was blessedly much neater, if only by comparison to the front. There was a pair of heavy wooden tables and benches, a long shop counter that Mars had never actually seen the old bat behind, and a rickety ladder leading up to a loft. That would be where the bad roosted when not ripping off customers.

No one seemed to be inside the shop. Mars cupped his hands in front of his mouth and called out, "Aye, git out here you old crone! Huáng liǎn puó show yourself!" When no harsh voice or deadly projectile flew towards him in way of response, Mars shrugged. "I suppose that mean's she's out on a house call. May the gods have mercy on that poor fool. She overcharges so unreasonably when she has to go anywhere."

"I'll have to introduce you some other time I suppose." He jumped onto and over the counter and rummaged around behind it. "Gu... gu.... gu... where would she keep gu? Ah!" The sound of Mars struggling could be heard, followed by something being dragged. "Damn, locked." Mars sighed and muttered quieter for a few moments. A crack announced that the lock had been broken. "If she asks, it was open," he called over to Lionel. "Centipede... toad... snake. Hmm... if she used centipede, we want toad. Bah, of course she only has one."

Mars reappeared from behind the counter, setting an ancient-looking clay pot on the surface. He winked and Lionel as he reached into the pot and pulled a string out. He kept pulling until what was on the other end of the string came into view. It was a toad. A black-skinned, putrid-smelling toad. It did not look happy to have been pulled from its container.

"Okay Mr. Lion," Mars brought the toad up so it was level with Lionel's face. "Open your mouth and say, 'Ahhhhhhh'."

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason had suspected the medicine store above Mars' office was at least compliant with his practice, if not directly aiding him. But judging by Mars' blatant disregard of the owner's property and the woman herself he could only guess that the proprietor and Mars were not on good terms. Mason wondered if Mars rented the basement out from the Chinese woman, and if that was the only positive interaction the two ever had with each other. Mason then began to wonder if Mars was capable of having any positive interactions with anyone outside of the mentally ill, but then a frog was shoved in front of his face. Or a toad, maybe. He wasn't sure, animals weren't his strong suit.

Regardless there was now a black, foul smelling amphibian being thrust before his nose, and Mason immediately recoiled from its stench. Mason took a long look at the toad, then to Mars, then back to the toad again. He didn't even need to debate his response on this one. Mason simply stood up straight, looked Mars dead in the eyes and flat out told him, "You first."

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars sighed and shook his head, muttering some expletives in unfamiliar tongues. "I really do with you would pull the obelisk out of your ass and just do what I say for once." He lowered the putrid toad back into its container and rounded the counter. "Stay," he commanded Lionel as if speaking to a dog, continuing right on past on his way towards the front door. "And do not eat him!" Mars yelled back just before the sound of the door opening and slamming closed could be heard.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason snorted derisively when he heard Mars' backhanded command. He doubted very much Mars would treat him as anything more than an annoyance while they were working together, and to be honest Mason wasn't sure how to handle it. He'd been treated like dirt before from superior officers, so this wasn't exactly a new practice. But coming from Mars it was a special brand of apathy that, Mason was now realizing, always managed to wriggle its way to his exact wrong nerve. More than ever Mason wanted to tell Mars to kick rocks and walk out on the man, but he promised himself he'd try to see this through. If things didn't start improving over the next couple of days then Mason figured he'd reserve the right to cut his losses and bail on Mars, then try his luck somewhere else. Still, things weren't as bad as that one day. Yet. So he decided to stay calm and roll the dice for now, toads or no toads.

...In fact, what even was that thing? And why the hell was Mars trying to put it in his mouth? Or one of its secretions, maybe? Mason shuddered at the thought. But his curiosity was piqued so he decided to peer over the counter and take another look at the slimy offender. Sure enough there on the table behind the counter was the ancient stone pot, with obvious cracks showing along its terra cotta surface. And sitting inside said pot was the toad, which oddly enough actually deigned to look up at Mason as he was observing it. Mason chose to remind himself that all toads had a perturbed look on their face, and that this one definitely wasn't giving him the stink eye intentionally. The smell wafting up from its dark recess was still just as horrid, so Mason shifted his face out of the funk chimney wafting up from the open pot. As he moved Mason got a glance at what was behind the counter, and among the mess of papers, bags and labels he could also see what looked to be some kind of wooden chest left haphazardly open behind the old wooden counter. Inside Mason could clearly see other containers of similar size to the one housing the toad, some clay, others glass, all of them discolored or fogged from age. Periodically Mason could see one of the containers move just a bit, enough to prove that something inside it was still alive. Mason's mind started to think of the other things Mars had rattled off the list. Centipede, toad, snake...

Hang on! Mason quickly whipped out his phone to try and see if he could Google translate 'Gu', fearing he already knew what might come up. Unfortunately as soon as the screen lit up the status bar showed he had exactly zero signal inside the shop. Mason looked around the store again, taking in the packed chaos of living and non-living material strewn about in an almost controlled fashion. He nodded his head in defeat and pocketed the device. Of course there'd be too much interference in a place like this. Even for a mundane like himself, and even through the haze of herbal scents permeating the air, Mason could smell something odd about this place. Most people would simply chalk it up to the sheer age of the shop and its wares. And granted that had something to do with it, but Mason knew better based on prior experience. This place was magical, heavily so by his reckoning. Mason sighed as he resigned himself to be momentarily ignorant of Mars' intentions, and decided instead to just wait as patiently as he could until the colossal prick returned. Mason hooked his elbow up onto the counter and leaned into it, cupping one hand over his fist as he allowed his eyes to wander the store aimlessly.

Unfortunately it seemed Mason leaned a bit too far, and his elbow just barely grazed the edge of the toad pot. The second it made contact Mason heard... something from inside the store, something decidedly unfriendly. On instinct alone Mason shot up and drew his pistol, a police issue Beretta 96 with a deep gash tracing diagonally down the side of the barrel. Mason carefully stepped back from the counter, aiming his gun past it towards the opening up the ladder. Mason thought the noise came from upstairs, and as his gun leveled towards the hole he could swear the noise got louder. Mason's arms didn't shake, and neither did his legs. He was as cold as a statue as he carefully put his finger on the trigger. Of all the traits he'd cultivated during his years on the force this was the one trait he was the most proud of: staying calm in the moment.

Mason kept the gun leveled towards the assumed danger and began backing himself slowly towards the front door. Job or not he wasn't about to stay in a cramped space with an unknown threat. And so he stepped carefully, moving ever closer to the door handle and its promise of escape.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars pulled open the door and called out, "Hon~ey I'm home!" Only after doing so bothering to look and see Lionel standing right there holding a gun. He sighed and shook his head. "I leave you alone for five seconds and you're already causing trouble. Put that away before you do something stupid. Well, more stupid. Stupider? No, that doesn't sound right." He shrugged and walked past back into the store.

He set something down on one of the wooden tables and then walked back over to the toad-jar. "It's all there. You can count it if you wish. As I said before, if you wish to change the payment type to gold or some other form, simply request and I will see what I can do." Sitting on the table was a stack of hundred dollar bills. One hundred of them. "Now let's try this again." He pulled the toad back up.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason was about to protest when he heard the distinctive slap of paper on wood, and looked to where Mars had left the stack of bills. He was stunned, to say the least. Mason had only seen that much cash in the evidence lockers, usually affiliated with a drug bust or a rare black market exchange. The idea of actually keeping that much cash was almost anathema to Mason and his police instincts. He cautiously lowered his gun to his side and picked up the stack with one hand, carefully flipping through the bills with his thumb. The serial numbers all appeared unique, and even though the bills were new he couldn't see any immediate irregularities. If they were forgeries then they were damn good ones.

Mason looked at Mars in utter shock for a second, then shook his head violently as his senses returned to him. He quickly pocketed the cash and took hold of his pistol once again, aiming it back up the ladder as he had before. "Look, fuck the toad. There's something in here, I heard it." Mason gestured up the ladder a few times with the tip of his gun, signifying where he had last heard the offender. His grip remained stone steady, a testament to Mason's resolve when he felt threatened.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars let a stream of complaints intermingled with fluent cursing under his breath. He covered his face with a hand, not the one holding onto the toad's leash, and slowly dragged it down past his eyes, which bore into Lionel. "You are insufferable, were you aware of this?" He withdrew his hand with a sigh. "The woman who runs this dump has a cat. Is that good enough for you?" He gave the toad's string a little shake, which it did not seem to like.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason looked at Mars for a moment before looking back up at the hole in the ceiling. The thing he heard earlier did not sound like any cat he'd ever heard in his life. His instincts were telling him that something was still watching from the upper floor, but looking back at Mars it dawned on Mason that the things mood had all but disintegrated the moment he'd walked back into the store. After looking back at the ceiling for one long, tense moment, Mason decided to give up the vigil and grudgingly holstered his gun. The fact that Mars wasn't being attacked meant the thing either respected or feared Mars, and Mason had dealt with enough shit today to risk that gamble.

Very reluctantly Mason walked up to the counter and stared down the toad being dangled by a string. Mason didn't know enough Chinese to be sure, but this whole situation sounded like some kind of twisted Chinese proverb. 'Man who swallows frog find misfortune in his shadow.' Whatever, at this point Mason just wanted to know what the hell Mars was getting at with this shit so it could be over with that much quicker. Slowly, reluctantly Mason started to open his mouth, but just as his teeth were starting to show a thought struck him. His jaw snapped shut as he quickly reached into his overcoat pocket to pull out the fresh bills he'd been given, showing them to Mars as he explained in a serious tone, "If this thing kills me, you get this to my apartment on Eldridge and Stanton. Understand?" Up until now Mason had been sporting a look of dejection on his features, quite done with most everything and not caring who knew it. But this was the first time there was any fire in his eyes. Mason looked like he was ready to murder Mars if he even considered going back on this agreement. The fierceness of his gaze was something that had made larger men than he wet themselves in fear, but Mason highly doubted Mars would react the same way. But if nothing else he hoped that his earnestness was coming through, and that Mars would register the severity of the moment.

Once Mason was satisfied Mars got the message, he pocketed the cash again and grimaced. As far as last words went he'd hoped to have said something more clever, but it would seem the moment had passed. With a resigned gulp Mason opened up his mouth once again and closed his eyes, silently dreading whatever horror was about to unfold.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars rolled his eyes, his finite patience with this man's paranoia growing ever less. And this was from someone who valued an unhealthy level of suspicion towards anything and everyone. "Yes yes, now do shut up and open wide." He raised the toad until it was directly in front of the cowardly lion's face. It hung there with the usual grumpy look on its toad face, until it suddenly started squirming. A long violet tongue, entirely unlike something that should be coming out of a toad, shot out of its mouth and into Lionel's. When it pulled back, it dragged with it a long thrashing form with far too many legs. "Quick quick, look before it's gone!" Mars held up with toad to watch as it crunched down on the centipede's head. Its light blue body fell still, though many of the dark purple legs were slower to stop their flailing. The blood that dribbled out of the toad's mouth was pitch black. It contentedly worked at making the deadly creature slowly disappear into its mouth.

"This toad here is poisonous enough to kill you, very many times over in fact," Mars grinned as if that should be reassuring. "But this," he turned over the end of the centipede still sticking out of the toad's mouth and motioned for Lionel to look. The tips of its sharp legs were red from where they'd begin to shred his internal organs. "This one was already working on it." He lowered the toad with its snack back into the pot.

"Gu," he said simply, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of him and a content smile on his face. "An old magic-type poison. Potent as anything, and while not always intended to kill, this one was." He shrugged. "Lucky for you the owner of this place keeps the common types in stock. Getting rid of a gu otherwise is a real pain, and rarely comfortable for the victim."

 

[KamiKahzy]

Mason could feel the damn toad's tongue snake down his throat. It was bulbous, slimy, acidic, and above all uncomfortably warm. Thankfully it was only in there for half a second before it shot back out, dragging with it something that outright tore into Mason's esophagus. As soon as it was clear of his lips Mason began gagging and wheezing profusely, clutching at his neck and chest while his body convulsed in both pain and disgust. It took a moment for him to hold down his gag reflex, but when he could finally open his eyes Mason stared bug eyed at the centipede being crunched into the toad's mouth.

Mason could only look on in utter shock. THAT had been inside him!? He couldn't even feel the damn thing until the toad had unceremoniously ripped it out! Mason looked over to Mars, his eyes slightly sunken into his face and the color drained out of his cheeks. But once the toad had been put back into its pot and Mason had a moment to think, he did his best to compose himself by taking a few deep breaths and coughing up a nice big glob of black and red sludge onto the floor. He then straightened up and shouted at Mars with incredulous determination, "WHAT the actual FUCK!?"

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Mars chuckled at the entertaining range of emotions the stoic Lionel worked his way through in the span of a few moments. After some searching he managed to find a mason jar, empty of whatever had been stored in it last thankfully, which he filled with lukewarm water from a rusty spigot behind the counter. He set this down in front of Lionel. Mars then stared at him with a finger over his playful smirk. "I don't know, Mr. Investigator, why don't you explain it to me? No hypothetical, no made-up scenario with likely answers. How did that gu get inside you, when did it happen, who is responsible, and why? Go."