2019-10-19 - Homeless People Always Know Everything
Alexander is not a cop, which means crackheads will talk to him. \o/
IC Date: 2019-10-19
OOC Date: 2019-07-18
Location: Sea View Suites
Related Scenes: 2019-10-21 - The Psycho You Know 2019-10-21 - Unsolicited Footwork
Plot: None
Scene Number: 2220
Life goes on at the Sea View Suites - for everyone except the Krugers. There must be some sort of care-taking manager keeping the place open, since several of the rooms are occupied, and everything still seems to be trucking along. So Alexander will find a functioning motel on this drizzly afternoon, complete with a few cars in the parking lot, a bored-looking maid carting around towels between the occupied rooms, and a homeless guy having an argument with the trash truck driver.
The homeless guy lives in the dumpster, and the trash guy is paid to empty it. They're necessarily at odds. The difference is, the trash guy has a big truck on his side, and all the homeless guy has is a ripe stench.
Alexander is...damp. Really, during the rainier seasons of Gray Harbor, that's such a common situation that it barely merits a mention, except that it adds to his general scruffy and droopy air as he walks up from the boardwalk, making his way towards the hotel. He scans the area with that twitchy paranoia, focusing in on the homeless guy and the trash guy. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he slouches his way in that direction, focusing on the homeless guy as he realizes the gist of the argument. He breaks in with a, "Hey," to the homeless guy. "Can I borrow you for a few minutes? There's a ten in it for you." Yes, it sounds shady as shit. If he notices, he doesn't seem to care.
The trash guy wins! He gets to empty the dumpster and move on, making a big racket while the homeless dude is skittering over toward the promised ten dollars. He smells like someone that lives in a dumpster behind a seedy, waterfront motel - booze, trash, dead fish, wet dog - but his eyes are still keen, and he seems to have most of his wits about him. So he gives the trash driver the finger, and crowds toward Alexander. "Ten, huh? You sure? I got some crystal, you want some crystal? Cuz I got some." He starts rummaging among all his coats and sweaters, making more stink. "Good stuff, man. Good stuff, check it out."
<FS3> Alexander rolls Composure: Good Success (8 6 6 5) (Rolled by: Portal)
Aside from a twitch of his nose, Alexander doesn't react as the stench wraps around him and gives him a big 'ol hug. You hang out with people who live in dumpsters, you get stinky. It's just a fact. He reaches into is pocket and takes out a loose ten dollar bill, just so the guy knows he's not fucking with him. He doesn't give it over, yet, but shakes his head. "No crystal. Just wanna ask a couple of questions. When I'm done, you get the money. Deal?"
"Make it twenty and you got yourself a deal, mister." He smiles, flashing yellow teeth at Alexander - but he also looks hungrily at the ten dollar bill, tossing his shaggy head over away from the noise that the trash truck is making while it beep-beep-beeps backward from the bin. If Alexander's smart, he'll arrange himself upwind from this fella.
"Twenty." Alexander's flat expression suggests this is highway robbery. He turns a bit away, then jerks his head. "Fine. Twenty when I'm done." He does try to arrange himself where the stench isn't QUITE as noticeable. "If you have something that proves useful, there might be more down the line." He lets the implied 'lie to me and this dries up' sit in the air without being said. "How long you been staying here?" A nod to the dumpster as he opens with a softball question.
"I got all kinds of useful shit. You want crystal?" Did they talk about that already? "Or what about this?!" He rummages around in his pockets until he finds it, whipping out what looks like a torn shower-curtain: clear plastic, stained, missing some of the rivets at the top. "This is a lifesaver around these parts, mister." He pulls it on top of his head, demonstrating its use, and holds up the corner of it, in case Alexander wants to crowd under here with him.
But seriously. Don't. The smell is real.
"A while. The old lady didn't like it, always cursing me out in fucking Chinese, but her old man and me had an understanding."
Alexander bears this stoically, although he offers a brief smile at the offer. "Thanks, but I'm good." The sensation of cold rain slithering down his spine is to be preferred to the smell, but even Alexander has enough tact not to say that. Instead, he bobs his head. "Anything stand out the last few weeks? With the couple who owned the hotel? Or anything else? Something that felt off?" One thing to say about the homeless: they tended to have pretty good radars for danger, since they tended to be on the bottom of any hierarchies and easy prey for predators.
Okay, that's cool. The guy will just stay under here alone, pulling the curtain down so it meets underneath his chin, providing himself a makeshift slicker. "You mean other than that they got fucking blown away?" he asks, scoffing at Alexander. The hand not holding his fake-slicker pantomimes a gunshot, and he makes a boom-noise with his mouth, then repeats this. "Damn shame, damn shame. Guy was wearing a ski-mask, y'know?"
"Yeah, other than that," Alexander says, not reacting to the scoffing. Fair call, and all of that. He considers the homeless man with sudden interest. "Did you see him? The guy in the ski-mask?"
"Of course I saw him." Duh. The guy takes some steps back, doing a lot of work to realign himself. Nope, more back. Still more back. Oh, there. He's right back by his dumpster now, and he points with his arm extended toward the front of the hotel. "I was right here. And he ran right in that door there. Couldn't've been in there but a minute or two. Then came tearing ass back out." He stops, orienting himself once more, wearing an intense frown while he looks off in the direction of Bayside Road. "Got in a little car."
Alexander follows when the guy steps back, staying out of smell range for the most part, but not wanting to lose the conversational distance, either. He follows the man's gesture, trying to recreate the path in his mind. "Was he wearing the mask the whole time? Or did you notice anything distinctive about him? Could be something subtle - even a smell."
There's another of those scoffed laughs from the homeless guy. "I hear boom boom, I don't go running to see if the guy is wearing cologne. I do this." He dives, head-first, toward the dumpster, surprisingly agile for a crackhead homeless guy, tucking-and-rolling so he comes to rest alongside the bin that is his home, knees drawn up. It does put another hole in his shower curtain, but let's be real: that's the least of his troubles. "I hunkered down, like this, but I watched. Gets in the little car, drives the little car over... oh, over there somewhere." He points off toward the boardwalk-ish.
"Some other car comes from over thataway - " Bayside. Specifically, he points toward the glimpse he can see of the top of the apartment building. " - and picks him up. So I figured I better clear out a minute. Cops'll be all over soon, y'know?"
"Wise decision," Alexander allows. He doesn't jump up and down, but his eyes narrow a little. "Can you tell me about the other car you saw? In as much detail as you can remember." And if the homeless guy seems to be thinking about it, he's also going to reach out with his mind to try and touch the guy's mind - perhaps he can read the guy's memories and get a glimpse of matters himself. Maybe he'll just get a brain full of homeless guy feelings. It's a gamble. He's a gambler. Just wait 'till the casino opens!
<FS3> Alexander (a NPC) rolls 3 (8 8 6 5 1) vs Homeless Guy (a NPC)'s 2 (8 7 5 3)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Alexander . (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> Alexander rolls Mental (8 7 6 6 6 4 4 4 3 3 1) vs Homeless Guy (a NPC)'s 2 (6 4 3 2)
<FS3> Crushing Victory for Alexander. (Rolled by: AlmightyMe)
Shrugging, he comments, "I don't mind cops so much normally, but when you start getting on about murder? Psssssh." He has no resistance to Alexander's rummaging. His is a broken mind, full of confused sorrows and meth, paranoia, mistrust, the occasional delusion. In short: keep the visit brief, Mister Clayton. It's a hostile environment.
"Yeah. Yeah," while he nods, still eyeing the distant glimpse of the apartment building like he expects it to DO sometime. "It was white. Said something on the side of it. Security? McGruff Security, maybe."
"They tend to ask a lot of questions about murder, yeah," Alexander says, with an easy sort of shrug. He manages not to grimace at what he finds on the other end of his probe, and tries to keep the contact light. And yet, as the man continues, he tries to push just enough to clear a couple of the cobwebs. "A white car with 'something security' on it," he prompts, gently. "Maybe the name was a bit different? Was there a logo of any sort?" He follows the guy's gaze, as if trying to picture it.
<FS3> Alexander rolls Alertness (8 8 6 6 4 2 2) vs What This Dude Keeps Looking At (a NPC)'s 2 (8 8 6 5)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Alexander. (Rolled by: KarmaBum)
Waaaaaaaay up there, on the corner of the building, there's a security camera. Not that the security cameras at the Bayside Apartments have been notoriously useful in the past (sry byron, we rly do <3 you!!!), but maybe this is finally the time! The guy sure seems to be fixed on the camera, anyway, his eyes keep darting back to it. And the paranoia every time hits Alexander much like that yucky waft of odor does.
"I'm pretty sure it was McGruff Security," he lies, casting back through his memories and just coming up short. The fact that he actually TAKES OUT A CRACK PIPE RIGHT THIS SECOND might account for the holes in his memory. "White car, McGruff Security on it. Maybe a logo? A dog." Hence McGruff? "With teeth." He shows his to Alexander, then digs around for a lighter. He has about 19 of them in his pocket, so it will take him a minute to sort through them.
Alexander blinks. Despite the rain, he brightens a little, like a dog that just saw a bone dangling out of reach. That bone is gonna be his. He glances to one side as the crack pipe comes out. Yay for not being a cop and being able to completely ignore that. Instead, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out another ten. The two bills are rolled together, and offered to the guy. "Thanks. You think of anything else, or see that car around, maybe you let me know?" He waggles the cash at the guy in implied 'more where this came from if you do', and hands it over. Along with his phone number, just in case the guy has a burner somewhere underneath all those lighters.
wtf Alexander's getting paid HOW MUCH these days, and he can't give this homeless junkie a few extra bucks? This is what's wrong with America.
Also, crack is a real problem.
The guy reaches up with his grubby hands, crawling forward (carefully, so as not to break his crack pipe) to take the money from Alexander's fingertips, beaming from ear to grimy ear. Oh, and the phone number; awesome, he will definitely pass that around to all his homeless friends ("This guy will give you money and you don't have to give him crack or a hand-job or anything!!!") with a promise: "You bet, mister. I'm here, Monday through Saturday, if you ever wanna know anything else."
I don't know where he goes on Sundays so don't ask.
The things Alexander does for his friends. And because he's a nosy motherfucker who needs to know things. He does offer a smile, briefly, to the guy. "Thanks," he says. And then walks away, towards Bayside. Because he's got a favor to ask Byron, and that's gonna be fun.
Good luck with that~! This guy will be here, smoking crack and counting his new money! 😃
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