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Spirits
Supernova
- Joined
- May 6, 2013
The smoke and grime of old practically decrepit cities grew on some people, some people simply couldn't stand a day out of the urbanized concrete jungles. It was unusual, they never seemed to question why that was, why some children found the quiet more frightening than monsters and ghouls. It was a classic case of 'conditioning', simple psychological conditioning similar to that of the experiments conducted with Pavlov's dog. One who understood that, could just as easily understand how children or even adults found the city more comfortable over the country at least in a single particular aspect. There was much more to consider if one wanted to understand such a phenomenon to a different extent or to a different angle. However that was irrelevant at the moment, it was... ....... .... ...
They could never truly give a sort of decent or detailed answer, they went with the simplest answer possibly to keep from thinking too heavily on the topic. 'Home is where the heart is', the most common and the most absurd of answers. Or at least, he found it absurd, absurd to know that this answer was not entirely given out of truth, it was much more common to see that they merely answered as such out of convenience and for a lack of a better term... When did children become so simple-minded? Even though they were of course children, even at his age, they were much brighter than that, they had imagination and the spark of innovation and creativity... They made his childhood quite interesting, but now?
Ugh, why is that important now? These sorts of simple yet somehow meaningful thoughts often plagued his mind. Noel's mind. Yes it was a fairly unusual name for a person of the male gender, however he was not one to complain, as he found the name 'Noel' to seem to 'fit' him. He merely considered it appropriate or rather that to him at least, it had a nice ring to it, he looked like the sort of young man who would be called 'Noel'. However, again, that was irrelevant... Here above in the thick coat of this cities smog, was his not at all humble abode within a large complex of homes, and offices in a now greyed stone building, once in a much less dull tone of ivory, however with age came the signs of said age... His office, or rather what was now his office had things in it which were of course relics of another time. An old wooden desk, fairly worn out, the wood chipping slightly along the edges of the main top of the desk, the handles of the drawers were slightly rusted, not in need of any immediate repair, there were several wood chairs scattered here and there, one or two in the main office, around four in the small kitchen which was in better condition than the desk itself. Everything else was fairly irrelevant, there was a large 'love-chair' and sofa, several boxes of files scattered around the office, large bookcases and small libraries filled with books, all if not most among the 'thick' variety. On the walls were several photos and trophies of Noel's past achievements and of his partners achievements. Several masks, weapons and even some culturally based trophies such as a mask loosely based on the skull of a dog... Indeed unusual trophies however this was what he was most familiar with, the life of a detective, or at least one who is recognized as one. Most of the things in his home, he perfered to keep to himself, he never truly gave many details in person, however ironically he thought about every detail and was a stickler for such.
At the moment he was merely in his office, enjoying 'dinner'; stale pizza, or at least he believed it was so, it may have been some unusual sort of lasagna. Here he ate musing to himself, enjoying his own company, unaware of what had been going on in the city below for some time, he was never one to read the news or even watch it, it was merely something he didn't enjoy; the news. However something would change that... Or rather someone, someone who would knock on his door and change his life, and for better or worse, he had no idea even should those events come to pass, he would never know... Hearing a knock on his door, prompted light curiousity...however mainly annoyance as he was more interested in unlocking the mystery of what exactly he was eating, than the task of dealing with a possible 'employee of the state' demanding from him what was usually what he would lack; money, funds, moolah, the green stuff, etc. etc. It wasn't as if Noel was broke , he just didn't have enough from his part time trivial pursuits to be able to pay the cost of this really unattractive office. It was unattractive to him in a practical view, but it was his unattractive abode, not to mention his partner's. He'd have to try to negotiate for the date of the deadline again, to keep the little government swine from squealing to attract the attention of the 'butcher'. That was one thing that he couldn't at all allow to happen.
He got up, streching slightly as he did, placed his meal on his desk, and slowly walked over to the door, the heavy sound of boots clomping, echoed in the small but somehow empty room. He crept up to the door sighing as he opened it, he had no 'peep-hole', or as some would refer to it improperly from the nautical term, 'viewing port'- hold on, that was not relevant. What WAS relevant was that Noel could not see who was at the door, for it was not a typical glass door, most would expect an office to have in this era, it was a solid wooden door, a sort of dark muddy brown door with a presumably fool's gold sign nailed to the door out front, that plainly said, 'Detective Jaracal's Office'. His partner was fully aware of how his name seemed to resemble the animal, particularly in sound... However this was not important, what surprised Noel was that he found no government swine knocking at his door, not even a piglet. It was a woman... Comically...his worst nightmare.
They could never truly give a sort of decent or detailed answer, they went with the simplest answer possibly to keep from thinking too heavily on the topic. 'Home is where the heart is', the most common and the most absurd of answers. Or at least, he found it absurd, absurd to know that this answer was not entirely given out of truth, it was much more common to see that they merely answered as such out of convenience and for a lack of a better term... When did children become so simple-minded? Even though they were of course children, even at his age, they were much brighter than that, they had imagination and the spark of innovation and creativity... They made his childhood quite interesting, but now?
Ugh, why is that important now? These sorts of simple yet somehow meaningful thoughts often plagued his mind. Noel's mind. Yes it was a fairly unusual name for a person of the male gender, however he was not one to complain, as he found the name 'Noel' to seem to 'fit' him. He merely considered it appropriate or rather that to him at least, it had a nice ring to it, he looked like the sort of young man who would be called 'Noel'. However, again, that was irrelevant... Here above in the thick coat of this cities smog, was his not at all humble abode within a large complex of homes, and offices in a now greyed stone building, once in a much less dull tone of ivory, however with age came the signs of said age... His office, or rather what was now his office had things in it which were of course relics of another time. An old wooden desk, fairly worn out, the wood chipping slightly along the edges of the main top of the desk, the handles of the drawers were slightly rusted, not in need of any immediate repair, there were several wood chairs scattered here and there, one or two in the main office, around four in the small kitchen which was in better condition than the desk itself. Everything else was fairly irrelevant, there was a large 'love-chair' and sofa, several boxes of files scattered around the office, large bookcases and small libraries filled with books, all if not most among the 'thick' variety. On the walls were several photos and trophies of Noel's past achievements and of his partners achievements. Several masks, weapons and even some culturally based trophies such as a mask loosely based on the skull of a dog... Indeed unusual trophies however this was what he was most familiar with, the life of a detective, or at least one who is recognized as one. Most of the things in his home, he perfered to keep to himself, he never truly gave many details in person, however ironically he thought about every detail and was a stickler for such.
At the moment he was merely in his office, enjoying 'dinner'; stale pizza, or at least he believed it was so, it may have been some unusual sort of lasagna. Here he ate musing to himself, enjoying his own company, unaware of what had been going on in the city below for some time, he was never one to read the news or even watch it, it was merely something he didn't enjoy; the news. However something would change that... Or rather someone, someone who would knock on his door and change his life, and for better or worse, he had no idea even should those events come to pass, he would never know... Hearing a knock on his door, prompted light curiousity...however mainly annoyance as he was more interested in unlocking the mystery of what exactly he was eating, than the task of dealing with a possible 'employee of the state' demanding from him what was usually what he would lack; money, funds, moolah, the green stuff, etc. etc. It wasn't as if Noel was broke , he just didn't have enough from his part time trivial pursuits to be able to pay the cost of this really unattractive office. It was unattractive to him in a practical view, but it was his unattractive abode, not to mention his partner's. He'd have to try to negotiate for the date of the deadline again, to keep the little government swine from squealing to attract the attention of the 'butcher'. That was one thing that he couldn't at all allow to happen.
He got up, streching slightly as he did, placed his meal on his desk, and slowly walked over to the door, the heavy sound of boots clomping, echoed in the small but somehow empty room. He crept up to the door sighing as he opened it, he had no 'peep-hole', or as some would refer to it improperly from the nautical term, 'viewing port'- hold on, that was not relevant. What WAS relevant was that Noel could not see who was at the door, for it was not a typical glass door, most would expect an office to have in this era, it was a solid wooden door, a sort of dark muddy brown door with a presumably fool's gold sign nailed to the door out front, that plainly said, 'Detective Jaracal's Office'. His partner was fully aware of how his name seemed to resemble the animal, particularly in sound... However this was not important, what surprised Noel was that he found no government swine knocking at his door, not even a piglet. It was a woman... Comically...his worst nightmare.
