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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Apr 23, 2008 3:14:23 GMT -5
Basil nearly exploded into gleeful rantings of "I told you so!" and "I am not out of the figurative ballpark, you idiosyncratic fool!" and "And you know what? I prefer tea that requires milk!". He was, however, able to restrain himself (somehow), and settled for a contemplative look. Hopefully the burst of happiness wouldn't kill poor Caden.
"Imogene Braith," Basil said carefully, as he watched Jeun with the slightest bit of suspicion, "believed that Peter Crowley's death was important because he had been involved in what she deemed 'shady activities' before his death. She concluded that his death was either somehow related to these shady dealings, or that he had just dropped dead of a sudden loss of blood. I haven't the faintest idea why she thought that it might be the sort of case that I deal with, though. It isn't as if vampire bites are that uncommon. And shady dealings? I get those every hour."
Basil shrugged, and folded his arms across his chest. "Now my question."
Damn. He didn't have another question. Basil frowned.
"Why are you transparent?" He mentally patted himself on the back.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Apr 23, 2008 16:13:29 GMT -5
Jeun looked rather impassive as Basil explained why Ms. Braith had been in the head detective's office. Actually, he looked a bit bored. In fact, he was. It was annoying to have to do these things- that is trick other people into doing the things they ought to do in the first place. He sighed and nodded slowly as Basil finished, "Hmn. I see," he said.
He laughed outright at Basil's next question. "Really? Of all the things you could ask me?" he asked, shaking his head. He held out one hand for Basil to see, "I'm not transparent, Mr. Dixon. I'm still quite opaque, thank gods." He was about to continue when the same something that had caught his attention outside before caught his attention again. He sighed and put down his plate of cake with annoyance, "Good god! Why can some people not take a hint."
With that he pulled out a money box from under the counter, "One moment, gentlemen," he said, unlocking the box and pulling out a crisp white envelope from it. He relocked it and put it under the counter. He vaulted over the counter (his foot actually going through the edge of Caden's arm, although Jeun did not notice or care) and walked out of the store. He walked across the street to where a man was standing under the lamppost, took a manila envelope from him, shoved the white envelope in his hands, and walked back to the store.
"My apologies," he told them as he came back in, walking around the counter this time and curling up in his chair, he put down the manila envelope on the counter and picked up his cake again, "Now, to answer your question, the reason I'm semi-incorporeal is because I have gotten my body stolen. If you'd like to know what that has to do with anything or how that can be- I'm sure I can come up with something else to ask you in exchange for that information."
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on May 1, 2008 22:55:32 GMT -5
Shady activities? He realized then that Basil had no idea what to make of Imogen. He had no real assessment of her skills and, as far as he was concerned, she was a green detective without a day's experience in her life. Imogen didn't have any especial respect for Basil or any reason to bring a case to him. After all, she wouldn't get paid for work someone else did. That was what made the entire affair so curious. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary (if such things could be perfectly ordinary, and as far as Caden was concerned, no, they could not) killing by a vampire whose craving for blood had gotten a little out of control. Shawl might have been the home of some of the most disciplined vampires (or so he was told) and one of the largest, most tolerant communities for "going veggie" as he had heard it charmingly described to him by a rather flashy vampire who was drunk off his ass. (If there was one thing that could be said for his job, it was that it was never boring.)
If Imogen was giving Basil the case, then it was exactly as dangerous and convoluted as she had thought it was. She wasn't so wealthy as to throw away a good case. If she gave it away, it wasn't something she wanted to get tangled up in. Basil needs to shut up before he gives something away. The cat in the hat doesn't need to know everything for fuck's sake. He was preparing a comment that would get his point across to Basil when he asked about Kazin being— transparent? Seriously? It was little crazy, even for Basil, who was the maestro of madness. Well, all right then. If Basil thought that was a good question, then it was his right to be ridiculous (and it was a right he tended to make good use of).
Just as he had come up with a witty retort to all this nonsense about transparency and opaqueness (and if this was some sort of metaphor for sexuality, then he wasn't going to put it past Basil to sleep with someone who knew everything because, surely, that was who Basil would sleep with), Kazin walked out.
All right. He'd asked for it. Decided that he had about a minute, Caden whipped out his cellphone, entered photo mode and began to snap away as soon as he could. He had time to safely take about six if he were lucky, and not wanting to risk losing his money shot, he started by photographing Kazin himself as best he could through the shop window. He grabbed a very zoomed in shot of the back room that would probably turn out to be a waste of pixels and then snapped away at the books. Realizing he was already at nine photos at least, he snapped the phone shut and had barely had time to stow it in his pocket when Kazin returned.
But that didn't mean that Caden had turned off photo mode.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jun 1, 2008 21:53:37 GMT -5
Basil thought about it for a moment. Stay in this dingy bookshop in order to squander information from a semi-corporeal sphinx, or let Caden go to sleep lest he whine for a week? The choice was obvious, and Basil decided that he had had enough of being inside.
"I don't need to know what that has to do with anything, actually," he said, and put his tea cup on top of the plate. "In fact, it is time for us to leave. Caden needs to sleep."
Basil looked over at Caden as he stood, and gave him a look which would hopefully be interpreted as "Please take as many pictures as you can if Jeun ever stands up and follows me to the door", but could easily have been mis-interpreted as "I did get the hints that you were sleepy, you big whiny baby, and I'm doing exactly what you wanted", or "How dare you sabotage my interrogation, you filthy whore?" It was really up to Caden which way it would be interpreted, since it really did look like most of his other significant looks. They usually consisted of a frown, some sort of eye narrowing, and a strange sort of physical tug as the shadows reacted to his strange, strange mood.
It was time now for Basil to retreat to the cushy safety of the inside of his car. There was a cat waiting for him there, and he was sure that there would eventually be a disgruntled detective in either the passenger or back seat.
"Get up already, Caden," Basil said, after a moment, since he had decided that it didn't really matter how Caden interpreted his look: he wanted to get out of this place, and maybe catch a nap or two before work started. "Good day to you, Mr. Kazin. I hope that you have a good rest of the night, and that I never have to wake you up so early again."
Hah. So long as Kazin managed to state a specific time period, am or pm, Basil wouldn't bother him so early. Although there was a fetching Egyptian woman who worked here at odd hours (and by worked, he meant napped on the chairs). Maybe she would know something about Kazin's business that Kazin wouldn't want shared.
It all depended on whether Basil's whims dictated that he have to interact with the woman, who always seemed to be as bored as the air-headed cashiers at most retail stores.
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