Night 47: Kitchen

[razing_phoenix]

[From here.]For once, they had actually gotten lucky. Guy's expression brightened as his flashlight showed him a kitchen, as they'd both guessed. While it was much smaller than the one downstairs, that didn't mean that it wouldn't have some good finds. In fact, maybe they'd be able to get some better quality stuff here, seeing how it was meant for

Comments

[full_score]

Claude definitely appreciated Guy reaching out to steady him outside, and he made sure to give a smile of gratitude as they made their way in together. It was nice knowing that he had his back, even for simple things like busting down doors

[razing_phoenix]

Guy was in the middle of searching through a drawer (which had nothing useful in it; just some stirring spoons, spatulas, and so forth) when he heard the name "Ashton" and stopped what he was doing. While Claude had mentioned it rather casually, Guy couldn't help feeling guilty. He was holding a sword that had belonged to Ashton in his hand at that very moment, after all. While he'd gotten accustomed to taking it around with him, it had never completely felt like his, both because of the previous owner and because it wasn't the type of blade he was used to

[full_score]

Guy's silence was difficult to miss, and Claude paused in the middle of opening up a drawer. Though he'd eventually responded, stretches of quiet like that made him feel a little uneasy even under better circumstances. Maybe he was distracted by something he found, or maybe something Claude said had triggered that response. Sometimes Guy was difficult to read, especially when he took into account that there was a lot about himself he was keeping under wraps. Claude certainly couldn't blame him too much for that, though

[razing_phoenix]

It looked like Claude couldn't just let it drop. Guy shut the drawer he'd been looking through right as his friend asked the question, and made sure to move on even if they were trying to carry on a conversation across the room. It was a little bit awkward, true, but he'd feel like more of a fool if the night ended before they found something because they'd decided to stop and chat.

"Well, I don't know about guilty, but I do feel bad that he doesn't have a sword when this was his in the first place." Even if Asthon didn't remember going to the effort to get his swords made by one of the alchemists, he'd still done it. The blade Guy was currently holding was proof of that

[iwhipthefool]

[from here skipping the Bride with permission]

Well, the detective hadn't lied. There were indeed two people in here and they were indeed looking for supplies. They didn't seem particularly dangerous either, not from their lack of covertness and their generally sunny attitude about this whole nightshift business. Franziska gave them a look as if to warn them to stay out of her way and then snapped her fingers at the Detective.

"Line everything on the counter. Candle, dish, knife, powder - in that order. We start immediately and I want no wasted efforts, understand?" Any mistakes would be paid for in pain, as she was certain Gumshoe already knew.

[ham_fisted]

Gumshoe moved aside to let Ms. von Karma through and promptly followed after her, shoulders hitching slightly at her next order. That last part was a threat, no doubt about it. His eyes briefly darted to her makeshift whip, as if to prove he got the message. "Y-Yes sir!"

He glanced over at the guys one last time before moving the flashlight to the crook of his right arm and carefully placing the box on the counter. The items she said--candle, knife-- no, dish, then knife...--were quickly laid out in front of it, side by side. He leaned back to survey his work, flashlight in hand again. "What now, sir?" he asked, looking curious.

[iwhipthefool]

After Gumshoe barked his understanding, she moved through the kitchen - the world around her melting away as she sought what she needed. Matches. Every kitchen in the world had them, and if they didn't, she'd use the stoves. It didn't take long to locate a small box of strike-on-the-box red-tipped matches, although the number somewhat felled Franziska's spirits. There were only a few remaining in the tiny box, and they rattled ominously when she shook the package. Wonderful

[ham_fisted]

"Right! Let's see