#verse; nbc

[acephalousantics]

@teardownheaven

Well.

This is awkward.

Lexaeus honestly hadn’t expected to be caught up in a crowd of admirers while in Halloween Town of all places. He can’t actually identify most of the creatures playfully hanging off of him either; by gender or species if he’s to be honest. The tittering gaggle of beings refuses to be shaken off, and the tail the disguise spells have given him today twitches madly in a reflection of awkward anxiety.

“Excuse me– ah… ma’am?” He ventures, trying to dodge a dress-wearing… banshee? Ghoul? He doesn’t even know, and they end up attached to his arm in short order. “Please, I should be going–”

Somhairle is not typically one to be so presumptive in his touches, knowing well that his skin was far too cool for the comfort of most of the living residents of Halloween town. Or, well, anything that had a heart beating in their chest, certainly. But the guy seemed to be in pretty genuine distress, and not the fun kind either. So, he figured that there was no harm in latching onto his arm, if it meant helping him away from the other people in the group.

“This way, Big boy.” His tone is soft and conspiratorial, but his voice is definitely at odds with that ‘ma’am’ the new comer threw his way, having far more bass in it than someone would expect from anyone in a dress. He doesn’t mind either way, Ma’am wasn’t a compliment he got often. “And put some pep in your step if you’d like to get away”

[agentclaricestxrling-blog]

Sus scrofa domesticus || puttinghimdown

Clarice had been called into Crawford's office early this morning--it had almost become a custom now. She'd wake up, eat breakfast, and report to Jack. She wasn't even a real agent yet, and she was being kicked out into the field. Crawford's logic was, seeing as there was not much left for her to do at the academy (graduation was only....days away), why not get a head start? Meet the team. Get used to crime scenes.

Clarice didn't needed to hear justifications, though. She just did what she was told, even under the intense scrutiny Kade Purnell and the envious gaze of male peers who deemed themselves more worthy of working for Jack Crawford and with his team.

Now Clarice slowed her junky car to a stop in front of probably the biggest house she'd ever seen. Of course, it would be inaccurate to call it a house--this was a mansion. The mansion belonging to the meat-packing millionaires called the Vergers, to be very precise.

She'd been sent here to investigate a person's...reappearance. His reappearance as large chunks in slop found in a stockyard belonging to the Verger's meat company. Clarice pitied the poor farmer who had to deal with a pig in the midst of eating a man's severed arm.

She climbed out of her car and made her way up to the doors, aware of the security guard watching her as she climbed the stairs. She realized then that she was unaware of the ettiquete in this situation; was she supposed to simply knock on the door or ring a doorbell (that was nowhere to be found)? Perhaps the security guard had called someone on the inside to let her in....

Was that how mansions worked?

[agentclaricestxrling-blog]

+ tissuepapermartini

"You need somethin'?"

[xclaricestarling-archived]

Inspection

     Chilled autumn air engulfs Montgomery County, Maryland and multi-colored leaves crunch beneath some run down tennis shoes, an emerald green scarf covering porcelain skin from neck to nose.

     Clarice clutches her over-sized jacket close to her frame and ducks down her head as she passes by some brush on the property, various plant life and fence being the only visible things from her current location - which isn't even entirely clear to her own self. The address was given to her through a letter, written in familiar copperplate, and she figured that it was worth a try to investigate. The linen paper was too infamous to pass up and she told Ardelia that she could do a search of the property by herself. 

     Gun in holster and pager on, the agent pads up a woody staircase and walks along a wrap-around porch, trying to look through some windows but being bitterly put down, as each one is closed with ebony finished blinds. Moxie in mind and strength in body, she walks back to the front door and gives a good three knocks, completely aware the the home's occupant knows exactly who she is.