[The sound of the alarm clock drilling at his ears causes the lieutenant to wake. Kim sits upright from the sleeping bag on the floor, his vision blurred as he instinctively gropes about for his glasses. A sense of confusion disrupts his sleep-laden thoughts as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. This isn't Whirling-in-Rags. Why is he on the floor? And why is he still dressed in his day clothes?
And then he remembers. The parasites. The snow plow. The monsters--
His hand makes contact with his glasses, and he snatches them up, wiping off the lenses and perching them on the bridge of his nose. His eyes adjust to the dark surroundings, making out kitschy furniture, plush rugs and lounge chairs, and dusty old knick-knacks placed delicately upon glass bookshelves. That's right--he had secured temporary lodgings for himself and the detective by negotiating with an elderly woman in the downtown area of the city. The woman was keen on having people about to run her errands, and was kind enough to provide a space for them to sleep. What she had failed to mention was the abundance of cats that prowled her hostel--though, Kim was able to keep them out by simply locking the entrance to the living room. The sound of them clawing at the door had kept him in a state of half-waking, though, and it was only until around three in the morning when he was able to finally fall asleep.
It is nearly seven in the morning. He's only gotten around four hours of sleep.
A sigh escapes him. Mechanically, he rises from his position on the floor to wander to the bathroom. It's only when he's face to face with the mirror does he realize that there's a problem. He doesn't have a razor with him, much less any aftershave. That ritual will have to wait until later. A slight sense of irritation enters his mind as he trawls his thoughts for any other sort of normalcy he can use to ground himself.
Breakfast, maybe. He washes his face in the sink and tries to tidy up his appearance before trudging towards the kitchen. He begins poking around the refrigerator for something he can easily reimburse her for. He doesn't want to claim this woman's food for himself, after all. His aerostatic pilot's jacket has been hung up on one of the kitchen chairs, waiting to be donned for a day's work.
A pair of shining eyes in the darkness can be seen in the doorway. One of the woman's cats seems to have decided to observe Kim.
All the while, he waits for the detective to wake.
The smell of toast wafts through the small apartment.]
12/5
And then he remembers. The parasites. The snow plow. The monsters--
His hand makes contact with his glasses, and he snatches them up, wiping off the lenses and perching them on the bridge of his nose. His eyes adjust to the dark surroundings, making out kitschy furniture, plush rugs and lounge chairs, and dusty old knick-knacks placed delicately upon glass bookshelves. That's right--he had secured temporary lodgings for himself and the detective by negotiating with an elderly woman in the downtown area of the city. The woman was keen on having people about to run her errands, and was kind enough to provide a space for them to sleep. What she had failed to mention was the abundance of cats that prowled her hostel--though, Kim was able to keep them out by simply locking the entrance to the living room. The sound of them clawing at the door had kept him in a state of half-waking, though, and it was only until around three in the morning when he was able to finally fall asleep.
It is nearly seven in the morning. He's only gotten around four hours of sleep.
A sigh escapes him. Mechanically, he rises from his position on the floor to wander to the bathroom. It's only when he's face to face with the mirror does he realize that there's a problem. He doesn't have a razor with him, much less any aftershave. That ritual will have to wait until later. A slight sense of irritation enters his mind as he trawls his thoughts for any other sort of normalcy he can use to ground himself.
Breakfast, maybe. He washes his face in the sink and tries to tidy up his appearance before trudging towards the kitchen. He begins poking around the refrigerator for something he can easily reimburse her for. He doesn't want to claim this woman's food for himself, after all. His aerostatic pilot's jacket has been hung up on one of the kitchen chairs, waiting to be donned for a day's work.
A pair of shining eyes in the darkness can be seen in the doorway. One of the woman's cats seems to have decided to observe Kim.
All the while, he waits for the detective to wake.
The smell of toast wafts through the small apartment.]