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Post by Javier Delgado on Jul 21, 2013 0:32:55 GMT -5
Taking a bite of his burger and letting grease drip down his chin as he talked, Javier continued. "And if you get into a situation where you are pinned, don't even bother trying the eye gouging trick. Mountain lions have eyes that recede back into their sockets. All it will do is be an annoyance." A glob of ketchup and mustard plopped out of his burger and toward the table. It landed on his fries, so Javier picked them up and stuffed them into his mouth. "Best just to punch and kick as hard as you can."
Javier swallowed, then took a napkin and wiped the grease off his chin. Then he noticed some had dripped onto his white men's tank top, so he began blotting at it with little success. "I guess that's all I got for you right now. I doubt cougar mating habits will come into play, right? Okay, you're in charge of the mission now."
Javier gave up on the grease and looked up at Xerxes to see his expression (or commonly the lack thereof). This was a trial mission of sorts. Xerxes seemed like he could possibly be a strong leader, but Javier was supposed to observe and give his opinion. Right now they were sitting at a table at a fast food joint in Chicago. Javier was wearing his morphing suit consisting of a white tank top, black bicycle shorts and disposable flip flops.
The mission they were on was pretty straightforward. People were dying of animal attacks in Chicago, all evidence pointing toward a cougar being responsible. Sort of. Either it was a rabid cougar that wandered into the city and was killing for fun, or it was an individual in morph. Considering their communication interceptions noted that all the deaths were prominent controllers in the area, it was probably the later. So their mission was to locate the one responsible.
How they went about doing that was up to Xerxes.
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Post by Xerxes on Jul 21, 2013 23:45:10 GMT -5
So. A test. Hazel eyes pierced the distance the two men at the table, Xerxes’ gaze unfocused as he considered once again what was in store for him.
To lead. Others. This....was not exactly what he had wanted. If he’d ever sat down to contemplate on his future in the Animorphs, it would never be as a leadership candidate. He preferred solitude and quiet much too much to be a leader. Yet those were his orders: to take command for this mission. Even though it was not a large group by any means, it was more than Xerxes had expected.
In hindsight, he should’ve considered this possibility. It irked him that he had not. He would not disobey his orders though. He would lead, and do so at the very best of his ability.
At least Kiki was not there. It’s always the little things in life that make it possible.
Xerxes’ eyes focused and he looked straight at Javier. “Affirmative,” he said, finally breaking the silence. The briefing was over, complete with data on how to best grapple with a cougar. It made him desire a way to include some sort of bladed weaponry in his more conservative morphing suit.
He glanced down for a moment in order to spear a french fry with a fork. Anyone walking by would see an extreme contrast between himself and Javier. Where one wore casual clothing appropriate for moving about on a hot summer’s day, Xerxes was clad in black and white. Javier’s clothing was not purposely marked. Xerxes had a large white skull imprinted on his shirt. The tight black t-shirt that clung to him like an additional layer of skin. The gymnastics black stirrups equally fitted. Making him feel utterly exposed.
He barely repressed a shudder at the reminder of the fact and chose to direct his attention to his food.
It was another visual contrast to Javier. Xerxes’ hamburger has been neatly sliced into sixteen similar segments, arranged in a grid-like pattern on the left side of the wrapper it had arrived in. The french fries were arrayed in lines from longest to shortest and spanned the right half of the wrapper. There were no condiments. Each item of food was touched by only his fork, first a piece of burger, then a fry, then another piece of burger, and so on. There was nary a stain on his clothing.
Xerxes narrowed his brow a smidgen as he set his mind to their task. There were two ways to go about this. He could either go straight for the source and attempt to hunt down the cougar, which was most likely only a morph, or he could set a trap for it. But he had no information to work from, to either determine a location for the cat or to find out what controller might be next. The cougar could be anyone, striking from anywhere. It’s motive would be to kill the controllers. There would hardly be any clues as to its whereabouts from the murders. That required them to start with the yeerks.
“We will begin with the murders. Do we have files on the victims? The killer found a way to identify these people; we must do the same. Find what links them and we can predict the cougar’s next move.” His voice was the perfect pitch--clear for anyone at the table to hear, but easily lost amidst the din of the lunch hour at the restaurant--and his enunciation was precise.
He skewered a burger segment before neatly consuming it.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Jul 22, 2013 20:36:57 GMT -5
Sifting through boring documents was definitely not the course of action Javier had expected Xerxes to take. He had expected something more along the lines of combing the area of the incidents and trying to track down the culprit using a variety of exciting and useful new morphs. Or maybe that is just what Javier had hoped. Xerxes' plan was certainly much more practical and efficient, Javier had to give him that. Judging by the way he ate, Xerxes was both of those things.
"Yeah, Eric, the tech guy from the blade ship, put together information on all the victims. We can access the files from a computer with internet access if we need to, but he did his calculation running thing and found one major connection that the news outlets failed to see. They all had houses finished in the last year by the same construction company." Javier wasn't sure how Xerxes would use that information, but he would wait and see.
"There are other similarities that a lot of them share, too. We can go check out the info if you want. I'm done with my food." Javier crumpled up his wrappers and sucked on the straw of his soda until the loud rumbling noise signaled that his cup was empty. "Ready when you are."
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Post by Xerxes on Jul 25, 2013 14:00:30 GMT -5
Xerxes exhibited no greater reaction to the conveniently displayed knowledge Javier was professing than to bat an eye. Multiple connections between the victims, but the most likely one being a construction company. Interesting. No matter where they were, undercover yeerks still required organization, if only to protect themselves or to get what they required. There always needed to be some public reason for them to all have contact with each other. Why not a construction company? Having virtually limitless access to the homes of anyone who made the mistake of hiring them would be most appealing.
With the construction company as the best bet, Xerxes looked away from Javier and returned his attention to consuming the rest of his meal. When they finished, as Javier already had, Xerxes decided that they would head to a library to access the information files.
He steadily worked his way through the remnants of his food.
The last of the scales vanished from Xerxes’ features as he finished demorphing. Standing tall, the teenager stepped slowly out of the shadows of the main office of the Carlton-Holmes construction company. According to the files accumulated by Eric, this was the company that built all of the houses of the recently murdered. Xerxes and Javier had learned that quickly at the library, where they’d spent most of the day in research. Every scrap of information added to the growing plan in Xerxes’ head.
Once night had fallen and they’d witnessed the last of the employees leaving the premises (other than the night guards and janitors), it had been relatively simple to infiltrate the complex. Human security was for humans. It was never built to keep out a gecko.
Xerxes neglected to turn on any lights in the office; the moon was full and provided ample illumination through the wall windows. They only needed it to find a list of all the company’s jobs in the past year, anyways. “Check the secretary’s desk,” Xerxes said in a low voice. Even though he was fairly certain that they would not be caught, he saw no sense in taking risks.
Xerxes had laid out this portion of the plan to Javier even before they left the library. He would’ve explained the rest, but alas, he could not plan any further without the information they would hopefully gain this night. With that list of contracts, they could find out what clients had not been killed and use them as points of reference for everything, including comparisons to the other ways in which the victims were connected.
He moved over to the head honcho’s desk, grimacing at the squeak as he sat down in the chair. The desk was covered in paper. There was a computer monitor on the left side, but it seemed that all electronic files required physical backups. Hopefully. Xerxes was reasonably confident that neither he nor Javier would be able to properly hack into the computer system, human technology or not.
He took a moment to partially memorize the arrangement of the papers before he moved them--making a mental note as to how to return them to their positions so none may be the wiser in the morning--before he began to sift through the documents. In theory, it wouldn’t be a long task, but paperwork always made things difficult and time-consuming.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Jul 27, 2013 11:39:35 GMT -5
The green hue of Javier's skin disipated as the last features of his walking leaf morph vanished. It had been an interesting trip into the building for sure, but it was also slow. Walking leaves were not known for their speed. He probably should have just caught a gnat or something and used that. But hey, they were in now and Xerxes hadn't tried to eat him even once.
"Check the secretary's desk. Got it," he said in a loud whisper. He made his way to the desk, navigating carefully through the dark and orderly office. He scanned the desk. There was a powered down computer, pens, paperclips, a stapler, etc. On the corner was a picture of a woman posing next to a man and a couple of toddlers. Nothing that indicated a list of clients. Javier checked the drawers, but they seemed to contain only more office essentials. Oh, and a small key.
Holding up the key, Javier examined it in the moonlight, then looked around to see what it might belong to. Copy machine? No, they don't use keys.. Another desk? Probably not. A door? No, too small. Filing cabinet? There we go.
There was a filing cabinet behind the secretary desk right next to him and sure enough, one of the drawers had a lock. Javier tried the key and it turned with no resistance. He opened the drawer and started flipping through its contents. It wasn't long before he started seeing familiar names. Names of the victims.
"I think I found what we came for," Javier stage whispered to Xerxes. "Come take a look." Javier continued to flip through the files and noticed that there were a lot more than just houses being built by this place. Looks like they had taken on a lot of renivation jobs to existing structures too. A lot of minor stuff like closets and dressing rooms. Even public restrooms.
"This... seems odd. And more than a little suspicious." Javier pointed out what he noticed to Xerxes. "Why bother with so many minor jobs?" If this really was a yeerk controlled organization, he could think of many possible explanations. None of them good.
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Post by Xerxes on Jul 27, 2013 21:16:46 GMT -5
His search was fruitless. The blonde teen methodically returned the precisely stacked papers to positions extremely close to where they had been before. Nothing. The boss, it seemed, did not see a reason to keep paper files with the details pertaining to recent jobs in his office. It looked like Xerxes would have to attempt to find the information on the computer terminal, as unskilled as he was.
Just as he was about to turn the computer on, he heard Javier whisper for him. Xerxes noted the lack of noise Javier was making and it raised his respect for the man a few points. Pushing down on the arms of the chair as he got to his feet, preventing the chair from squealing with the released weight, Xerxes then padded across the floor in bare feet until he was two feet from Javier’s side.
As he listened, he skimmed parts of the papers Javier had laid out. His lips began to press firmly together. No, no no no. Assuming that the entire construction company was yeerk-owned, or at least controlled, then all of the small jobs painted an even larger image than merely a way to gain controllers. He recognized these jobs. They weren’t dressing rooms, bathrooms, and closets. They were entrances.
“There’s a pool,” he said softly after a moment of silence. He carefully kept anything resembling an emotion from his voice, but his meaning was still clear. “In construction or already completed. These rooms will serve as means of traveling to and fro.” He lapsed into silence. There was nothing more to be said, especially as to how he knew such things. Personal experience. The third stall in the men’s room at a sporting goods store had been Styglin’s preferred method of going to the yeerk pool.
That....was valuable information. But not yet. They already had an objective and the mission parameters had not changed in accordance to this new data. Another day, perhaps. He’d make certain of it.
Xerxes began pulling out the papers that they needed, only at times taking additional papers as well. If anyone were to notice that the files were missing, he did not want them to know what the reasons were. He left a few of the murdered clients alone to further obscure the track. But he took every other living individual’s file. He sorted the papers into two stacks and then grabbed one, sliding it underneath his shirt. He wasn’t sure exactly how skintight something had to be to be morphed, but just in case he didn’t want to risk being unable to morph the entire stack.
“Take those,” he said simply. “We’re finished here.” And so they were.
Xerxes crouched on the floor before moving on to his hands and knees. This position would negate the unnecessary falling from a bipedal stance to a quadrupeds as he shifted into a gecko. The changes began with the cracking of his spine as it began to extend into a tail.
Once they made it out, Xerxes’ plan was to head back to their hotel room. They’d hadn’t known how long the mission would take, as finding a morphing mountain lion (or so they assumed) was not as simple as a quick raid or rescue attempt. Mysteries always took more effort than the crimes. At the hotel, they could begin their comparisons.
He wasn’t going to be sleeping for quite a while yet.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Jul 28, 2013 11:26:11 GMT -5
Xerxes' interpretation of the files helped to reinforce Javier's suspicions. He had heard in a tv documentary about the first invasion there had been many entrances to the yeerks pool under the city hidden in plain sight. It wasn't good if another one was being built. Especially under a large place like Chicago.
Javier grabbed the stack of files that Xerxes handed him and stuffed them into his waistband under his shirt. It wasn't comfortable, but hopefully it would be morphable. He had never tried anything like this before. He quietly followed Xerxes' lead and got down on all fours before concentrating once again on his walking leaf morph.
Back at the hotel, Javier paced back and forth. He was deep in thought. They had been looking at the evidence, trying to piece together who the killer could be. Javier felt like he was in a Sherlock Holmes novel or something.
"Whoever it is, they would have access to the information we have, but aren't in so deep that they have been made a controller. They also have the ability to morph, so they are either an andalite, they found a morphing cube, or they are someone who gained the morphing ability as a controller during the first invasion. I suppose they could be a yeerk nothlit from the first invasion too, but that seems unlikely. Naw, probably not." Javier put a hand to his chin and continued his pacing.
"Also, whoever it is, it is someone motivated enough to kill. Lots of people would probably want those people dead if they knew who they were, but most of those same people wouldn't be able to make themselves do the killing themselves. So what is their motivation?" Even if they figured it all out, if they even could, they would still have to find the person and prove their theory.
"Maybe it would be easier to figure out their next target and find out who they are that way?"
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Post by Xerxes on Jul 29, 2013 22:38:33 GMT -5
Xerxes sat on the floor between the two beds, his legs crossed and a notebook on one leg. In his small, precise handwriting, Xerxes had been keeping track of any connection they could come up with, as well as recording all other relevant data, including what they had ruled out. A neatly-ordered array of papers were in formation before him on the floor. They consisted of the files they had stolen and several printed pages from the library, including an article on the “Cougar Killer.” It seemed that the local police had not uncovered the Controller angle. To them, it seemed most likely that a psychopath had trained a cougar and was using it to kill without order.
Idiots. There was always a method to anyone’s madness. Yet Xerxes could not truly fault them, for they did not possess sufficient knowledge for this case.
To this point, Xerxes had been able to ignore Javier’s pacing. A deep breathing exercise had been particularly helpful. But as Javier spoke, Xerxes became all too attracted to the movements. He managed to prevent his lip from curling. Besides, Javier’s words were not always a waste, though they frequently arrived in an overabundance.
He had but one thing to add to the list of Javier’s possibilities. “Unless this individual is a morph-capable controller who is acting on behalf of inter-factional rivalry within the yeerks. Or perhaps an agent of the One, unless this is a One operation, in which the individual may be an imperial agent,” he said when there was a slight break in Javier’s monologue. He dipped his head to return to writing down the information they had and what they needed.
Underneath the list of possible backgrounds for the killer, Xerxes write “Irrelevant.” There were too many possibilities at the moment and none of them were useful. But one thing Javier had mentioned stuck with him. Motive. Wasn’t it obvious? This was a form of guerrilla warfare. In war, killing an enemy combatant required no motivation. However, he refrained from piping up; it would do neither of them any good to worry about it. He marked that “Irrelevant” as well.
He did agree with Javier’s question, though. He said flatly, “Indeed it would be. In fact, that may very well be the only way to solve anything.” The teen picked up a stack of papers and set them on the bed to the right. “There are pictures in that stack that depict seven of the victims entering a bar no more than forty-eight hours before they were murdered. That bar has recently been a client of Carlton-Holmes, specifically to remodel their bathrooms. Two months ago, I believe. That seems to correspond to just shortly before the murders began happening. This may be a potential hunting ground for the killer.”
There were many flaws in the idea. For one, not all of the victims had visited that bar. However, it was one of the greater connections Xerxes had discovered. Predators tended to favor certain hunting grounds; why not the local watering hole? Besides, mixing up methods enabled the killer to be more unpredictable and allow for easier evasion of any form of law enforcement. Three others had attended the same cinema in a similar time span before their demises.
“I propose a stakeout. It is reasonable to believe that the killer will strike again from the bar once more, and most likely within the next few days,” he said, calmly straightening piles of paper. “We can then tail any recognized client of the company in the chances that we may catch the killer in the act.” It was a terrible plan. At best, it was a way for them to say that they tried. But Xerxes could not come up with anything else to do except for more research. Which they would be doing tomorrow, at any rate. It was much too late to visit the bar. It would still be open, but not for much longer.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Jul 30, 2013 22:01:40 GMT -5
Javier hadn't even considered the possibility that the yeerk killer could be a yeerk itself. After all, they had witnessed first hand a controller who was morph capable. It was just that Javier had never witnessed any fighting among the two yeerk factions, and so the thought had no reason to enter his mind. But it did make sense.
"The stakeout sounds like a great idea. Should we go in with morphs, or maybe disguises? Because if it is a controller doing the hunting, then it could be the one we met right before you joined. even if it isn't, we should still probably try not to be memorable faces." Javier realized he was probably just being paranoid, but it never hurt to be too safe.
"Also, is the bar one where you need to be 21 and over in order to enter? Cause that could be an added problem for you. Although not a big one, I suppose. Being an Animorph creates many ways around a problem like that. And if we do use animal morphs, we should probably get some that are conspicuous to this region. I know most of mine don't blend in too well." Javier felt like he was starting to ramble, like he often did when sharing knowledge about animals.
Javier turned and flopped backward onto one of the hotel room beds. "Sorry. I should probably give you more chances to elaborate. After all, I am supposed to be observing your skills. How am I supposed to do that if I don't give you the chance to use them?"
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Post by Xerxes on Aug 1, 2013 0:08:38 GMT -5
“There is a restaurant portion,” Xerxes said in answer to one of Javier’s many questions. The blonde then proceeded to answer the rest as best as he could, entirely ignoring the man’s self-berating, due to its lack of purpose. Questions, concerns, and criticisms were vital methods of removing flaws in one’s ideas. “It would be no problem for me to be on the premises as long as I do not sit at the bar. However, that will not be a concern.”
He looked up from his writing and glanced at Javier. “My plan is for you to remain human. Infiltrate the bar. Identify any clients if possible. You will point them out to me, as well as keep on alert for the killer. I will be in morph--moth, most likely. If any client enters the building, I will follow them. Either they end up dead and we uncover the killer, or we wait for the next night,” he recited, as if it were a plan he’d memorized years ago but forgotten what it was for. It lacked passion.
Xerxes looked back at the papers before him. He shut his notebook and set it to one side, the pen neatly arranged beside it. As he began merging the stacks, he addressed another question. “A disguise should not be necessary; we are in unfamiliar territory, after all. If, as you say, a controller one of us recognizes arrives, then they will be just as out of place as us, making them a likely suspect for the killer. As long as we do nothing to attract attention to ourselves, we should not stick out or be memorable,” said Xerxes. He was not planning on being human while in the bar, but just in case he was he’d have to follow the same rules.
By that point, all the papers had become a single stack. Xerxes rolled forward onto his knees and then smoothly rocked backwards and upwards into a standing position. He bent long enough to pick up the pen and notebook, as well as the stack of papers, before walking over to set everything on the small table in the room. The stack of papers went into a large envelope for safe-keeping.
Once everything was cleaned up, Xerxes turned to face Javier. “I do not believe we will need any special morphs for this. If we are able to discern the identity of the killer, we must simply follow them long enough to establish their base of operations. Nearly any sentient creature will have some sort of lair. Once we find that, we can begin to think about the next phase of the plan,” he said. Hazel eyes stared into Javier’s head. “Do you have any more concerns? Or alternatives?” Yes, he was the leader, but that did not mean he was close-minded. At least not to suitable individuals.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Aug 1, 2013 17:32:51 GMT -5
"I guess that is all of my questions answered. I suppose I should start memorizing faces." Javier still wasn't completely convinced that the plan would work, but it was certainly worth a try. Plus, if they didn't try anything, they already failed. Xerxes' bluntness and apparent lack of feeling was still as unnerving as ever. At first Javier thought the guy just needed to come out of his shell a bit, but now it seemed the guy was made almost entirely of shell.
At least he was easy to work with, Javier realized, even if he wasn't so easy to hang out with. Probably a good leadership quality.
Javier sat at the bar tonight. Yesterday it was a table, and at a booth the night before that. He had struck up a casual conversation with one of the bartenders, Omar. Jen from the night before tried flirting with him for extra tips, but the efforts were wasted on him. Omar was much more likely to succeed in that respect, but didn't seem inclined to try. Oh well. It would have been awkward with Xerxes right there anyway, being able to hear their conversations. Javier prefered to keep his personal life personal.
"Still no sign of anyone," Javier reported quietly when Omar went to the other end of the bar to take an order. Javier scanned the bar again. It had a slight outdoorsy theme. Floating somewhere between formal and casual. Javier wasn't too far out of place in his tank top despite some guys wearing button up shirts and girls wearing dresses. He glanced at the clock above the bar. "It has been about an hour and a half. Should we head to the bathroom so you can... Hold up."
Over in the restaraunt section there was a familiar face. A man from their list was sitting under the stuffed moose head , just asking for his check. How long had he been there? He and the woman across from him were preparing to leave.
"You're up. The man across the room under the moose. You better hurry. He's getting ready to leave." Javier turned back to his drink, trying to look casual, only to see that Omar had returned and was giving him a funny look. "I... think I've had enough to drink," Javier said sheepishly, sliding the rest of his beer away from him. "Check please?"
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Post by Xerxes on Aug 3, 2013 1:20:45 GMT -5
It was strange to have a skull on one’s back. Almost as strange as it was to wear one on the front of your clothing. Xerxes had no choice in either matter, though--the shirt had been the least of the evils available at the time and the patterning of the moth was pure happenstance. He’d chosen to acquire a moth because they were reported to have decent senses and they could fly. This particular moth held other surprises, despite its somewhat bulky size.
On this night, Xerxes was perched underneath the bar, clinging to the dark wood grain with all six of his legs. His senses might be adequate, but he was still an insect and therefore they paled in comparison to a human’s. This meant he needed to be close enough to hear anything Javier might say (especially over the background noise in the bar) yet still out of sight. And he certainly couldn’t be on Javier himself--too visible.
As he had on each previous night, Xerxes remained silent, other than affirmatives whenever Javier reported in. To say that the stakeout were boring was an incredible understatement. It was tedious, monotonous, and was slowly wearing him down. Xerxes would rather spend hours and hours each night in his quarters on the blade ship reading, whittling, working out, or performing some other productive activity. Or even waiting and doing nothing at all. But the difference between his quarters and the bar was the noise.
People everywhere. Moving, talking, making noise. A tv was on. Bottles clinked and clanked. Footsteps vibrating on the floors. Glasses and mugs being plopped on the bar. It was maddening. It irked every fiber of his being to be there.
Even from the semi-protected cove formed by the bar and Javier’s body, Xerxes had felt himself awash with so many sensations, most of which were different than ones he knew as a human. Every change in an air current brought so much new data to him. Sifting through all of that information and working out how best to deal with the moth’s instincts were the only things that kept him sane.
Finally, it was time to do something. To get away from the noise.
<<On it,>> he said simply in affirmation of Javier’s directions. He dropped fro the bar and immediately took flight, twisting in the air to orient himself to being right-side up.
He zipped out a few feet before flying up towards the ceiling, hoping to not direct attention to Javier in case anybody happened to notice the moth. Fortunately, the bar enjoyed a low-illumination setting, using hanging lights to provide soft lighting. Nothing harsh and it left the very top of the ceiling much darker than the floor. It was perfect for a moth to hide, however temporarily that need be.
Now he needed to find the moose.
Before he had ever morphed the moth, Xerxes had scoped out the place as a human first, in order to better understand the layout. He remember that the moose head was located between the second and third hanging lights to the....left of where Javier was sitting at the bar. Flitting to that general area, he began to descend, perching on the moose itself. Ignoring the allure of the lights was difficult, but not impossible--it had been one of the first instincts Xerxes had tried to whip into shape.
Xerxes tried to get a reading on the target. Smells and shifting air suggested two people. Yeah, that pretty much matched what his eyes were telling him. The compound eyes were very discombobulating. Everything was fractured and indistinct.
<<I’ve found the target,>> he informed Javier. It was true--the tone of voice from the one was much lower than the other. It also had less of a variety of smells. <<I am in pursuit.>> For the the individuals--a male and female, most likely--were shifting positions and standing up, after a third person had stopped by. Probably a barmaid or someone.
Xerxes followed them outside into the dark evening, making certain that he never flew too closely or too far away from them. He chose about five feet behind them and four feet over their heads to hang around in, certain that he would not be seen. He said to Javier, <<They’ve passed the parking lot. I believe they are going to walk.>> Excellent. It would’ve been difficult to track them in a vehicle, and even more difficult to find his way back afterwards. He was certainly capable of following two humans at walking speeds--he had to force himself to hang back.
About five minutes later, according to his estimate and a crude seconds-counting method, the man and woman stopped outside a well lit area. It was a building that went on forever and seemed to be spotted with lights. It was probably an apartment building. The two figures stepped in close to each other and might have kissed. Normal enough behavior. In the last five minutes alone, Xerxes had reluctantly learned too much about their personal life just from snatches of their chatter, primarily on the woman’s part.
It seemed that they’d been celebrating their two month anniversary; the woman absolutely couldn’t wait until their next date; she was so sorry about all the things that had been happening at the man’s work lately (there might’ve been a break-in!) and she wished he’d convey her sentiments to everyone he worked with; she’d like to surprise him that coming Friday, and a plethora of other bits of senseless data.
Xerxes was not impressed.
However, this break gave give a small chance to find a place to demorph. He was certain he was nearing the end of his time and he didn’t want to risk losing the man once he was on the move again.
Nearly six minutes later, a ghost bat took flight from the roof of the apartment building. Xerxes regretted the lengthy time it had taken to demorph and then morph again, but there was no helping it. He’d been unable to speed the changes along. Now he needed to pick up the man’s trail again.
He started with the bottom of the building where he’d seen the man and the woman. In the yellowish pool of light cast by a streetlamp, the only thing left was a stray dog sniffing around for a late snack. Elsewhere, as far as his sharp eyes and ears could detect, there was no single man walking down any of the numerous paths. But with a six minute head start, even on foot, how could Xerxes actually stand a chance of finding him?
He’d lost him. That wasn’t good. However, the man was most likely headed back to his own residence, and as he was in their files, they probably had his address already. But maybe Javier had managed to follow him--Javier had not needed to morph.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Aug 4, 2013 0:03:54 GMT -5
By the time Javier paid for his drinks and was ready to leave, the couple had already escaped out the door. He was afraid he would lose them completely, but luckily Xerxes informed him of the direction they took. Across the parking lot and on foot. He would definitely be able to catch up.
As he walked across the asphalt in the cool evening air, Javier tried to keep looking casual without letting his cheap lime green flip-flops flip and flop too loudly. He was at the end of the block before he spotted the couple at the end of the next block to the right. They were crossing the street. Javier crossed the street at his intersection and pursued.
It was much harder to keep pace with the couple than he had expected. It would have been easy if he wasn't trying to remain non conspicuous at the same time, but walking fast in sandals and reaching the next corner at the appropriate time was turning out to be quite a challenge. Thankfully the trip was short.
Javier turned one last corner and found the man and woman talking in front of her apartment. Suddenly finding himself in pursuit of someone that was no longer moving caught Javier off guard. After a split second decision, Javier decided that sitting on a bench at the bus stop on the corner was his best option. He did his best to keep an eye on them without looking in their direction, and he tried to hear what they were saying, but all he could pick up were mumbles. This went on for a minute or two.
When he heard a door closing, Javier stretched his harms above his head and yawned as a way to look around discretely, but he couldn't help but let a tiny gasp slip out when he saw the man walking right toward him. Javier's heart raced as his fight or flight instinct kicked in. Just when he decided it was probably a good idea to bolt, the man sat down on the bench next to him.
And pulled out a bus pass.
"It's late," the man said. It took a moment for Javier's brain to register the fact that the man was talking to him. "Suppose that's nothing new though. Headed to the waterfront too?" Normally Javier could strike up a conversation with anyone, but the absurdity of the predicament he suddenly found himself in caused Javier to only manage a nod. The man raised an eyebrow, but then crossed his arms and seemed content to wait for the bus in silence.
"What are you doing by the water?" Javier asked as nonchalantly as he could manage. After his momentary stint of panic passed, Javier realized this was a golden opportunity for collecting some information. The Animorph scanned the area for Xerxes' moth form, but didn't spot it. Didn't mean he wasn't there, but Javier knew Xerxes' morphing time limit was drawing to a close.
"Work," the man said, sounding almost annoyed that the conversation was continuing after he had already determined that it was over. "One of my crews is supposed to do some renovation at Navy Pier tonight before it opens tomorrow, and I need to oversee it."
"What kind of renovation?" Javier asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Upkeep," the man said, trying to end it.
"You work for a construction company?"
"Yeah, Carlton-Holmes."
"Are you Carlton or Holmes?"
"The second one. Our bus is here." The man sounded relieved. They both stood up.
As the bus slowed down, Javier realized he would be expected to get on it. His panic instinct was threatening to come back again as he realized he had no way of knowing if Xerxes was here or would know where they were headed. He needed to think of something.
"Do you have a pen I can borrow? I just remembered, I need to write myself a note."
Holmes pulled a pen from his jacket without even looking. "Keep it." The pen said Carlton-Holmes construction company on it.
"No paper too, I suppose," he said as he pulled off a lime flip flop. "Meet Megan at seven," he said as he wrote NAVY PIER. "Oh wait, her name was Morgan!" He tossed his sandal aside. "Don't want her seeing that mistake." He took off his other sandal and started writing again.
By now the bus was at the stop with the doors open. Javier followed Holmes aboard and payed cash for his seat. A lady in a wide-brimmed hat and long coat ran up and got on the bus last second, and then they were on their way.
Javier hoped that Xerxes was either on the bus or got the clue he left, but even if he didn't, Javier could always just meet up with him back at the hotel. Still, Javier didn't feel like spending another three nights loitering at that bar, so he hoped this payed off.
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Post by Xerxes on Aug 8, 2013 22:54:28 GMT -5
Xerxes wheeled around once more before making up his mind to leave. He could find the bar; from there, it wouldn’t be too difficult to make it back to the hotel. Then his keen eyes caught sight of something beneath another street light. It was near a bench, and it was familiar. Swooping in to get a closer look, Xerxes confirmed the garish garbage.
One of Javier’s sandals. Only he would be wearing such colors and footwear and then lose one. On another pass, Xerxes noted the writing. A message. Clever. Somehow Javier had passed through as a human, trailed the man, and then vanished with the man. He was missing something. He pushed the mystery of Javier’s need to write a note to the back of his mind.
Xerxes reoriented his attention back on the mission. The disappearances were unimportant and had no bearing on anything. If the flip-flop had indeed come from Javier--and since he had no better leads himself--then Xerxes needed to get to the Navy Pier.
It had only been a minor difficulty to locate the Pier. Xerxes had retained an approximate direction of the coastline and he’d flown straight towards the water. Once he’d been close enough, he’d been able to see the lights and hear the clamor of the Pier. With each wingbeat he grew closer to the shining luminosity of the various rides and attractions. With each wingbeat the bat fought harder and harder against his control.
But that, too, had no bearing on anything.
He’d lost track of his time shortly after he’d begun flying towards the pier from the apartment. A single, momentary distraction had jarred his count and then the last numbers had dissolved. He could’ve been in the air for ten minutes or forty--he had no clue of knowing either one. Had Javier already made it? Had that actually been the man’s flip-flop? Or was he on a wild goose chase? If that were true, he had a long night ahead of him by returning to the hotel. The flaws in his plan made themselves ever so much more evident with each passing second. They really had no way of finding anyone or anything. His mission would be a success only through a stroke of luck.
By the time he’d managed to actually reach the pier, his arms were exhausted. All of the flapping required to get him there had been strenuous, especially at the clip he’d pressed himself to maintain. At the first chance he got, Xerxes landed. His perch of choice were the massive letters proclaiming the name of the historic location. Now he needed to at least get in touch with Javier.
Sweeping outwards with his thoughts but focusing them only on Javier, Xerxes said, <<Javier. I am at the Navy Pier entrance. I’m in bat form and hanging from the lettering at the top of the building. If you can, meet me here. If you do not make it, I will head to the ferris wheel for fifteen minutes.>> That was it. He did not think Javier would be able to respond, as he was most likely still human. This was the best Xerxes could do. If he couldn’t find Javier, he’d never find the man.
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Post by Javier Delgado on Aug 11, 2013 5:04:50 GMT -5
The bus ride wasn't nearly as long as Javier expected. The traffic wasn't so bad at this time of night, and there weren't a lot of people waiting at most of the bus stops along the way. By the time they actually reached the pier, there were only about five people still on the bus. When he got off, though, it certainly looked as if there were a lot of people waiting to get on here. It wouldn't bee too much longer before the pier was closed for the night, and people were starting to leave in droves.
It was difficult to keep track of Mr. Holmes in the crowd, but it also helped Javier to stay inconspicuous. Eventually Holmes went into the large front building of Navy Pier, through a door that you needed a key to enter through. There was no way Javier would be able to get in without being noticed.
He sighed. "What now?" Javier scanned the area. Not far off he spotted a row of hedges in the park. "That'll have to do, I suppose." He needed to morph something in order to take a look around. Scope out the place. Hopefully by then Xerxes will have found his message and catch up. Unless Xerxes really had been with the entire time, in which case Javier would need thought speech in order to contact him.
After making sure nobody was looking, Javier crouched behind the shrubs, then laid down and rolled under them so that he was laying flat on his stomach beneath the leaves. He kicked off his one remaining unmorphable sandal and then the changes began.
The first thing he noticed was the hair dropping down in front of his eyes was receding. It got shorter and shorter, but never completely disappeared. Eventually he felt it fluff out as the strands became feathers. Dirt scraped against his chin and stomach as his body became shorter and shorter. His muscles and organs squirmed and squelched as they rearranged and took on new purposes within his body. His legs became like narrow poles and the empty spaces between his toes filled with webbing. With his newly triangular eyes, Javier watched his mouth and nose protrude into a bright striped beak. His puffin morph was complete.
<<Javier. I am at the Navy Pier entrance. I’m in bat form and hanging from the lettering at the top of the building. If you can, meet me here. If you do not make it, I will head to the ferris wheel for fifteen minutes.>> The sound of Xerxes' voice was a wonderful thing to hear. It meant his cohort had made it to the destination, and bat morph meant he had had time to reset his morphing clock.
<<On my way,>> Javier replied. He took off out from underneath the shrubs and beat his wings out over the ink black pool that was Lake Michigan. He spiraled up to a height of decreased visibility, then flitted over the roof of the main buildings to the letters at the front. After a sharp aerial turn to descend under the lip of the roof, Javier plopped his chubby bird body onto the top of the Navy Pier P.
It wasn't hard to spot the white form of Xerxes' ghost bat morph. <<Our target is Mr. Holmes of Carlton-Holmes,>> he said without wasting time. <<He went inside the main building and I couldn't follow. He said he was here to oversee some sort of renovation that is supposed to happen before the park opens in the morning, but I don't know when or where that is happening. Or what, for that matter. No cougars attacked us on the bus ride here either. Think our mystery murderer will show?>>
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