|Summary||Tiffany and Sumit go dog hunting in Brooklyn. All does not end appaulingly.|
|Prompt||9.) DOGS. There has been a plague of loose stray dogs in Brooklyn since last week. I don't know why, but Amy Verde with animal control would like us to help deal with it, preferably in a way that does not involve dogs having to be put down.|
"Irene should be doing this," Tiffany comments dryly before taking one last drag of her strawberry flavored cigarette and dropping it to the ground. She slides her foot over it, rubbing it out into the concrete with the toe of her flats. "She basically made a coyote piss its pants on the camping trip." She adjusts her red, heart-shaped sunglasses as she shifts her attention to her compatriot, "Did you bring your gun?" Just in case.
The young woman's dog catching outfit is surprisingly practical for her. She wears a pair of high waisted black cutoffs and a white baby-doll tee with the words 'Alpha Bitch' scrawled in fanciful, Barbie font. A hot pink fanny pack sags at her hip. It's full of bone-shaped treats. Holding up a long metal trap pole to her shoulder and popping out a hip, Tiffany casually looks around for dogs. She points at a woman walking her chihuahua. It's obvious. The woman sees her. "Target acquired," Tiffany says darkly.
Sumit has decked himself out in a plain t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket for this little jaunt, with a pair of sturdy boots keeping up the level of practicality. Eyeing the chihuahua for a moment he looks faintly amused, then notes, "stray dogs, that was the brief. And while I could make the owner vanish and thus make it a stray, I doubt Boomer would be happy. Besides, this isn't paying enough for that sort of thing." With his hands in his pockets he adds, to answer her previous questions, "one of them. Brought the stinger as the others might be a touch over the top given the brief. You?" Ignoring the dogwalker he lets his eyes scan the surrounding streets, Brooklyn isn't his usual stomping grounds, so he's on alert for anything odd, or unusual.
The mention of his 'others' causes Tiffany's back and shoulders to stiffen. "I brought some mace," she answers in unenthused monotone. Her eyes widen behind her rosey sunglasses, shifting around them. As the dogwalker nears them on the other side of the street, she calls out in a flat, demanding tone, "Where are the stray dogs."
The young woman, having noticed being noticed by the pair by now, nearly jumps out of her skin. Her tiny dog growls menacingly in defense of its master as she points back towards a sister pair of old warehouses. She doesn't stick around to talk to Sumit or Tiffany.
"I can lend you the pistol if you ever have need of it," Sumit notes as he looks down a particularly grotty looking alley, "just let me know before hand and if I'm not using it then it should be fine." With nothing catching his eye he turns back to the main pavement and can't resist the smallest of smiles as Tiffany extracts the information. "Blunt and to the point, I like it. Left first, or do you want to split up and cover more ground?" He presents both as options, but his tone suggests he's largely in favour of sticking together, what with the present level of anti-mutant sentiment and all.
"Can I count on you not to ask any questions, though? When I come for it?" Tiffany is mostly joking... right? She nudges her chin up a little at the compliment. It's a little difficult to resist not smiling back, which she does. "Left first it is," she purrs, bringing up both hands to wrap around the catchpole.
Surrounded by tall crumbling fence, the pair of warehouses are surrounded by two massive park lots that have long been overgrown with monstrous sized weeds. The gated entrance appears to he heavily padlocked, but various points in the fence have given way to cut or chewed-through holes. None look large enough for a human -yet.
Sumit considers the question for a moment, then replies with a steady, "probably, but it'd depend on the circumstances. Most if I thought you knew what you were doing, rather than being in a blind rage. The later is usually not conducive to responsible gun handling." Eying the fence he turns to pace along it for a bit, before halting infront of the largest hole for a hundred metres or so. "You want to go have a look-see while I open this up a bit? Like you did in Colorado? I can keep an eye on you while you're gone."
Tiffany follows a few paces behind Sumit. "I'm a really good actress. I could be in a blind rage right now." Coming up to stop behind him, she pops out the swell of her hip and rests a hand on it. "My power doesn't work on animals," the psionic explains expressionlessly, "But that'd be awesome." ... "Can you like... smell anything?" Isn't that his power? "Did you bring cutters or a knife?" The dark-haired young woman steps forward, thatching her fingers through the fence to give it a little testing shake.
"Was Broadway calling before you manifested as gifted?" Sumit asks, half in jest as he eyes the hole. He doesn't have cutters, but after he takes his hands out of his pockets he does manage to produce a knife that might work. "If this doesn't get through then I can boost you over the top, then take a running jump myself." He shrugs faintly, but gives her a faintly odd look at the mention of smelling things, "no.. well, beside the bitter stench of urban decay." As she shales the fence he uses his free ahnd to point to a section, "you mind keeping the tension on that bit? Might make this quicker. Shame you can't do the woojha ont he dogs though, would have made this quicker."
Tiffany pants out a little laugh at the joke, moving into position to pull the fence a bit more taut. "Trust me, I'd much rather be able to see through a dog's eyes than half the people we know." She makes a tiny peep of effort, rising up onto the balls of her feet and almost falling into the fence. It isn't long before she's stable again, though.
Sumit is going to have to sharpen his knife when he gets home, but eventually a hole is made. There might be no obvious sign of trouble of the other side, but he still ducks through first, hand close to the butt of his stinger, just incase. "You bring a torch?" he asks as he reaches into a pocket of his jacket and pulls out a headlamp, "lets get this done with shall we? Are we getting paid per dog, or just for the night do you know?"
"You just like... /had/ a headlamp?" Tiffany pouts, shaking her head somewhat. She fishes in her fanny pack, producing a tiny, handheld flashlight which she holds between her teeth while she re-zips the bag. "Per dog, I think." Her voice is partially obscured with her mouth full, but it isn't that difficult to understand. Holding onto the fence, she ducks through the hole.
"This is not my first night time operation," Sumit replies as he fixes the torch inplace and turns it on, "although I must admit, I far prefer proper NVGs. Still, you've got to use what you can get your hands on haven't you." Leading the way to wards the warehouse he lets his gaze sway back and forth across the empty ground, just in case, but empty is precisely what it is. "Lets hope we find them in here then, I was hoping to pay a social call on your roommate once we're done, but it'll be somewhat pointless if she's already asleep."
"Ew," Tiffany scoffs with a tinge of amusement.
The warehouse is as eerie as one might expect. Scattered periodically is evidence of drifters and mischievous teens, as well as animals that might seem a bit more nefarious than stray dogs. Crossing paths with a racoon does elicit a jump and a small peep from Tiffany. In the end, it's the second warehouse that houses many of the neighborhood strays. After a thankless search, scat, footprints in the dust and dirt, and the hopefully-not-so-familiar reek of dog urine might have lead the pair down a connecting corridor. The pitter-pat of a dog's paw pads and the click of unclipped canine nails resonates just around a dark bend.
Once inside the first warehouse Sumit's hands do not return to his pockets but instead, one draws the stinger and the other opens doors and the like. The search is methodical, but once it's apparent that here are no canines there it moves on to the second. "You hear that?" he mutters to Tiff, "I suspect we might have found our den. You want to try and catch the beast first and I'll stun it if things go badly?"
"Okay," Tiffany whispers back. Her voice is less steady and more shaky as flashes of her recent coyote interaction come to the surface of her mind. Making a few quiet tongue clicks, she moves cautiously past Sumit. The sound of her zipper cuts sharply through the corridor and is accompanied only by a soft thud as the psionic tosses out a milkbone treat into the darkness.
The pitter-pattering grows closer, followed by wet sniffling of a dog's nose before the animal in question comes into Sumit and Tiffany's spotlights. Near skeletal with brindled fur and a heavy limp, a pathetic looking female pitbull creeps towards the treat. The malnourished would-be pet lowers closer to the ground while looking over at the pair, but her spindly little tail give a small tell-tail wag. The dog whimpers.
"Oh my God!" Tiffany squeals, pressing a hand to her chest. She turns to make eye contact with Sumit as if to see if he's experiencing what she's experiencing before kneeling to hold out the back of her hand for the dog to approach and sniff.
Sumit is more of a dog man than a cat one, so there's a definite flinch in his features are the state of the beast that rounds the corner. It doesn't mean he's putting the stinger away yet though, not a chance, it's aimed at the floor in front of him, but ready to raise at a moment's notice. "So far so good," he mutters, "do you think there's more? If she's had a litter or two then it might account for the numerous sightings." He keeps back, not advancing so as not to scare the dog, "ex-pet do you think? Certainly socialised."
"Probably," Tiffany answers Sumit but coos in a tone so as to keep the dog feeling comfortable. She lets the animal sniff and lick her hand some before giving it another treat, "You're not that old, are you? Noo." She frowns deeply, dipping her head to give the dog's underbelly a glance-over. "I don't know..."
Not having been abandoned alone, the brindled female near Tiffany proves only to be a harbinger. It isn't long before several more young pits appear. Her litter-mates wiggle their butts as they approach Sumit and Tiffany's feet with wide, begging eyes and easy whimpers. The X-Factor pair is soon surrounded.
"I think we're going to need to call for transport," Sumit notes as the other pits arrive. With no sign of them turning angry he safetys and stows the stinger, but leaves the actual dog wrangling to Tiff for now. "Do you know anyone with a car who might come out? Or do you think animal control will be answering at this time of night?" Rohan's motorbike is out of the question for this many dogs so he's drawing a blank. Reaching down to scratch on between the ears, almost absently, he adds, "definitely socialised."Letting out a little scream of delight as one of the dogs tries to lick her face, Tiffany turns to look up at Sumit with a crinkle-nosed smile. "My sister's husband has a car?" She's hesitant to stand but does... because they're filthy. As the treat-wielding animal handler steps closer to Sumit, she's followed by a trail of admirers. She gives Sumit a very dry look, "This better be per dog." She stalks off a few paces to make the call.