On my desk. [The place that he has difficulty reaching. His mouth tightens into a narrow line.] I didn't have the time to get them down yet.
[He can totally do it on his own. But it's more time consuming, and the police station will have closed by then. Asking for help is a matter of speed, not incapability.]
[For a moment, Tuuri looks a little too excited to hear that the photos were in an inconvenient location. This means she gets to help! Her contribution is vital to the success of this operation.]
Great! I mean, sounds good. I mean, I'm happy to help you get them down. [nailed it.] Which one is your place?
[Tuuri is...a very excitable person. Really happy about getting out and going on adventures. How else can she be so upbeat about finding ways to deal with life?
Not that Mohammed is complaining.]
It's the brown house right there. [He points ahead at the middle of the block. The two-story house has a white door and a small lawn. No one has mowed it in a long while, resulting in patches of long grass. The black and white dog that has just poked its head out from the grass doesn't seem to mind.] The one with the dog.
[Meanwhile, Tuuri daydreams about the two of them getting single-handed credit for solving the mystery of Retrospec's weird stalker as she pulls up to the house-- which is appropriately professional and successful, and even has a dog!]
Awww, he's so cu-- [oh. Oh, no he's not, now that she's getting closer she realizes that he is not cute at all.] Uhh. He's not going to eat me, is he?
[Congratulations, Tuuri has been blessed (?) with meeting with what is perhaps the ugliest Boston Terrier in existence. Iggy's eyes drill into her soul as he determines how to approach her. In most circumstances, he'd ignore some random human that walked by the house unless they moved too slowly for his liking. The attempted invader would have to be a good runner.
But Tuuri is with Mohammed. She cannot be entirely avoided. Sure, some humans that his owner shows up with are fine, they don't bother him and he doesn't bother them. But he can never be too careful.
Mohammed tugs on her arm.] He won't go after you unless you try to hurt him. [Or its because he thinks she's a nuisance and should leave, but Tuuri doesn't need to know that.] But it's better if you stay near me. He doesn't like strangers.
Well, good. I'm definitely not going to try to hurt him. [she says, more to Iggy himself than to Mohammed, as if by saying it out loud she'll convince Iggy to leave her alone. She doesn't even break eye contact with him until Mohammed tugs her along.] Y-yeah. I'll keep close!
[She sticks incredibly close to him, actually, since even without looking it feels like Iggy is still sitting there, staring at her.]
...What's his name? [She almost feels like she shouldn't ask, as if he'll know they're talking about him.] He's. Cute.
[He turns to her after exiting the car. She's only trying to be nice.] Iggy. The animal shelter used to consider him unlikely to be adopted.
[He briefly tugs on her shirt again and heads to the front of the house, which from up close, the door has a flap built into it. Iggy steps out of the grass to leer at the two.]
I left the dog door unlocked to make it easier to get in. [He pulls himself onto the single stone step leading to the front door.]
Ahaha, yeah... [She can't think of any polite way to respond to that, so... well, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Luckily Mohammed's leading her forward to the house; she tries not to look at Iggy as he stares, bug-eyed, after them.
Her eyes go wide when they approach the dog flap.] Oh, wow, that's perfect! I have to go in and out of the window of my dorm. [She struggles up after him, taking a second to sit down and rest once she's at the top, slightly out of breath.] So... so is your desk on the first floor, or?
I live on the second floor. [He says disappointingly. There's an apology hidden in there.] It's not that steep. We can make it.
[He pushes on the flap and steps into the house, indicating Tuuri to follow him. The entrance hall is just as organized as one would expect Mohammed's house to be: clean wood floors, a shoe cabinet, and minimal decorations. The living room, on the other hand, has signs that people other than Mohammed live here. Pillows are left wherever on the couch, half of the coffee table is covered in envelopes, and a comic book lies on the floor having fallen off the table.
There are rooms on the bottom floor, but the bird cage has to be upstairs where there are fewer people to spook them. Mohammed cannot sleep too far from the bird room.]
Sorry for the mess. Joseph isn't used to cleaning up after himself.
Great. [she says, slightly deflated, but he's still enthusiastic about it so she should try to drum up the enthusiasm too! Halfheartedly, she raises a fist in the air.] Let's go team!
[She begrudgingly gets to her feet and pushes through the dog flap, though the inside of his house distracts her from her complaining.] Oh, wow, this is a nice place. [For a minute, she stops in surprise when she sees the comic book splayed over the floor-- woah, totally unexpected-- until he speaks up again.] Oh, haha, it's no problem! My place is much worse all the time. Plus it's not like cleaning up would be easy when we're this size! [she probably shouldn't sound too cheerful about this...
In any case, she stares up the flight of stairs, her legs already sore just looking at it.] Uh, I don't suppose there's a chance that we could catch a ride on Iggy...? [She's not even sure if she'd really take it if it was offered (she is pretty sure he'd eat her right away) but... doesn't hurt to ask.]
[Please, he's too mature for comics. Very mature. The mess doesn't annoy him too much - he's used to his housemate by now - but the insinuation that he can be a kid at heart? How dare.
He pulls himself onto the first carpeted step.] It's not that I'm complaining, but it would be nice to be able to tidy up a bit.
[It's just. He limited in what he can do. Walking over and picking up a book is a Herculean task.]
I tried riding Iggy to the bus stop this morning. He didn't want to go.
Yeah... well, it'll still be there when everything goes back to normal. [the unspoken, hopeful assumption being that everything will go back to normal, of course.
Yikes, carpeted too... Tuuri sighs, and starts the long, arduous process of hauling herself up the stairs.] Well, I guess we have no choice. [She is just barely too polite to say that she should have guessed that Iggy would have refused.] I'm going to get rugburn by the time we get up there.
[Seriously, Tuuri's a little bit out of shape, she's going to be lagging behind the entire way up.]
[This is why Mohammed wears long sleeves. No, it's just a fashion statement, but a helpful one. After the morning adventure of feeding the birds, he's stopped caring about how unfit he is. This may be the rest of his life, but he might get Jojo levels of buff in the meantime.
He manages to go up five steps - halfway up the first flight - before stopping to catch his breath. The car ride was a chance to rest up, but it doesn't mean he can climb the stairs with ease.]
I think...[breathe breathe] I need to train Iggy.
[Which is easier said than done. He pulls himself halfway up the next step.] Are you okay?
[Tuuri is a full two steps below him, lying on her back and staring up to the ceiling.]
I'm-- [huffing, dramatic breath] going to die. I can't go on any longer. Tell Jim... I'll see him... in hell...!
[She raises an arm straight up to the ceiling, as if grasping for the light, before letting it fall; it clunks against the floor with a muffled thud.] Ow. I didn't think the stair would be that hard.
[Dramatic break over, she begrudgingly rolls to her side and starts to climb the next stair.]
[Huff. Well, fine. She takes the hand he offers gladly and flops down on the edge next to him for another breather.]
Yeah, it's just... [The prospect of Saving Recolle seems a little stale now that it involves so much work... no, that's not the spirit at all. She pushes herself (begrudgingly) to her feet, ready to tackle the second half of the stairs.] No, you're right! Let's do this! But also, maybe we could bring a pillow or something to slide down on our way back?
Um. [It sounds stupid. But fun.] That would make it faster.
[Time is of the essence if they are to take on the responsibility of stopping Jim. Heroes of the people cannot take long breaks. They have to keep moving.]
We're halfway there. We can make it. [With her enthusiasm and his leadership, they can get through anything!]
Yes! We can do it! [and then later they can take a faster, more fun, less labor intensive route back down!
Newly inspired by the idea of stair surfing their way back to the car in victory, she throws herself back into the climb. Finally, finally, they reach the top (Tuuri still a little further behind Mohammed...)]
[Mohammed, on the other hand, collapses onto the floor, holding himself up by his forearms. He's had enough of exercise for today. He wants to rest. But Tuuri is here and he's look ridiculous taking a break lying face flat on the floor.
No, for the sake of his dignity, he must stand.
He stands, still out of breath.] Okay. My room is the first door on the left. [On the right is a small reading room, where the bird cage is tucked away in a corner. They're quiet after their afternoon nap and before their owner returns from work]
[No, that's fine, Tuuri is perfectly happy to take a break lying face down on the floor...! But damn, Mohammed is standing up already, guess she has to haul herself to her feet too...]
To the left. Got it. [she pants, leaning over and bracing her arms on her knees as she rests for just a moment. She looks up, ready to follow him, when she catches a glimpse of the room to the right.] Ooh, what's in there? [she asks, with the good sense to keep her voice down.] Is that a cage?
Just some books and-- [Oh. Oh, that's where the budgies are. Tuuri is going to see the birds and wonder who owns them and Mohammed will have to admit that he plays with them regularly--
One of them, a blue budgie with black markings, spots the intruder. It chirps loudly.]
...Yes. [He stands in the middle of the hallway, right between his room and the cage.] They're mine. [He adds quickly.]
[Unfortunately for Mohammed, Tuuri is immediately distracted by the birds.] Aww, they're so cute! [Finally, she can say that truthfully about one of his pets.] What are their names? I didn't realize they were so... big-looking, now that we're tiny.
That's Prince. [Because his coloring is closest to purple. It looks purple in a certain angle.
Another hops into view, expecting their owner to pay attention to them.] That one's Micheal. Whitney is the yellow one. Richie is probably in his house.
[They loom over the Mohammed and Tuuri and chirp in unison. They continue chirping, louder and rapidly, chanting their demand for affection and to warn each other of the newcomer.]
Hold on, they're hungry. [It's not certain, but Mohammed wants to be certain.] And I've been gone all day.
[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
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[He can totally do it on his own. But it's more time consuming, and the police station will have closed by then. Asking for help is a matter of speed, not incapability.]
If we both go together, we can leave quicker.
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Great! I mean, sounds good. I mean, I'm happy to help you get them down. [nailed it.] Which one is your place?
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Not that Mohammed is complaining.]
It's the brown house right there. [He points ahead at the middle of the block. The two-story house has a white door and a small lawn. No one has mowed it in a long while, resulting in patches of long grass. The black and white dog that has just poked its head out from the grass doesn't seem to mind.] The one with the dog.
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Awww, he's so cu-- [oh. Oh, no he's not, now that she's getting closer she realizes that he is not cute at all.] Uhh. He's not going to eat me, is he?
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But Tuuri is with Mohammed. She cannot be entirely avoided. Sure, some humans that his owner shows up with are fine, they don't bother him and he doesn't bother them. But he can never be too careful.
Mohammed tugs on her arm.] He won't go after you unless you try to hurt him. [Or its because he thinks she's a nuisance and should leave, but Tuuri doesn't need to know that.] But it's better if you stay near me. He doesn't like strangers.
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Well, good. I'm definitely not going to try to hurt him. [she says, more to Iggy himself than to Mohammed, as if by saying it out loud she'll convince Iggy to leave her alone. She doesn't even break eye contact with him until Mohammed tugs her along.] Y-yeah. I'll keep close!
[She sticks incredibly close to him, actually, since even without looking it feels like Iggy is still sitting there, staring at her.]
...What's his name? [She almost feels like she shouldn't ask, as if he'll know they're talking about him.] He's. Cute.
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[He briefly tugs on her shirt again and heads to the front of the house, which from up close, the door has a flap built into it. Iggy steps out of the grass to leer at the two.]
I left the dog door unlocked to make it easier to get in. [He pulls himself onto the single stone step leading to the front door.]
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Her eyes go wide when they approach the dog flap.] Oh, wow, that's perfect! I have to go in and out of the window of my dorm. [She struggles up after him, taking a second to sit down and rest once she's at the top, slightly out of breath.] So... so is your desk on the first floor, or?
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[He pushes on the flap and steps into the house, indicating Tuuri to follow him. The entrance hall is just as organized as one would expect Mohammed's house to be: clean wood floors, a shoe cabinet, and minimal decorations. The living room, on the other hand, has signs that people other than Mohammed live here. Pillows are left wherever on the couch, half of the coffee table is covered in envelopes, and a comic book lies on the floor having fallen off the table.
There are rooms on the bottom floor, but the bird cage has to be upstairs where there are fewer people to spook them. Mohammed cannot sleep too far from the bird room.]
Sorry for the mess. Joseph isn't used to cleaning up after himself.
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[She begrudgingly gets to her feet and pushes through the dog flap, though the inside of his house distracts her from her complaining.] Oh, wow, this is a nice place. [For a minute, she stops in surprise when she sees the comic book splayed over the floor-- woah, totally unexpected-- until he speaks up again.] Oh, haha, it's no problem! My place is much worse all the time. Plus it's not like cleaning up would be easy when we're this size! [she probably shouldn't sound too cheerful about this...
In any case, she stares up the flight of stairs, her legs already sore just looking at it.] Uh, I don't suppose there's a chance that we could catch a ride on Iggy...? [She's not even sure if she'd really take it if it was offered (she is pretty sure he'd eat her right away) but... doesn't hurt to ask.]
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He pulls himself onto the first carpeted step.] It's not that I'm complaining, but it would be nice to be able to tidy up a bit.
[It's just. He limited in what he can do. Walking over and picking up a book is a Herculean task.]
I tried riding Iggy to the bus stop this morning. He didn't want to go.
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Yikes, carpeted too... Tuuri sighs, and starts the long, arduous process of hauling herself up the stairs.] Well, I guess we have no choice. [She is just barely too polite to say that she should have guessed that Iggy would have refused.] I'm going to get rugburn by the time we get up there.
[Seriously, Tuuri's a little bit out of shape, she's going to be lagging behind the entire way up.]
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He manages to go up five steps - halfway up the first flight - before stopping to catch his breath. The car ride was a chance to rest up, but it doesn't mean he can climb the stairs with ease.]
I think...[breathe breathe] I need to train Iggy.
[Which is easier said than done. He pulls himself halfway up the next step.] Are you okay?
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I'm-- [huffing, dramatic breath] going to die. I can't go on any longer. Tell Jim... I'll see him... in hell...!
[She raises an arm straight up to the ceiling, as if grasping for the light, before letting it fall; it clunks against the floor with a muffled thud.] Ow. I didn't think the stair would be that hard.
[Dramatic break over, she begrudgingly rolls to her side and starts to climb the next stair.]
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We're not dying yet. There's unfinished business to attend to. [He holds out a hand to help her up once she's close enough.]
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Yeah, it's just... [The prospect of Saving Recolle seems a little stale now that it involves so much work... no, that's not the spirit at all. She pushes herself (begrudgingly) to her feet, ready to tackle the second half of the stairs.] No, you're right! Let's do this! But also, maybe we could bring a pillow or something to slide down on our way back?
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[Time is of the essence if they are to take on the responsibility of stopping Jim. Heroes of the people cannot take long breaks. They have to keep moving.]
We're halfway there. We can make it. [With her enthusiasm and his leadership, they can get through anything!]
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Newly inspired by the idea of stair surfing their way back to the car in victory, she throws herself back into the climb. Finally, finally, they reach the top (Tuuri still a little further behind Mohammed...)]
Yes...!
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No, for the sake of his dignity, he must stand.
He stands, still out of breath.] Okay. My room is the first door on the left. [On the right is a small reading room, where the bird cage is tucked away in a corner. They're quiet after their afternoon nap and before their owner returns from work]
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To the left. Got it. [she pants, leaning over and bracing her arms on her knees as she rests for just a moment. She looks up, ready to follow him, when she catches a glimpse of the room to the right.] Ooh, what's in there? [she asks, with the good sense to keep her voice down.] Is that a cage?
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One of them, a blue budgie with black markings, spots the intruder. It chirps loudly.]
...Yes. [He stands in the middle of the hallway, right between his room and the cage.] They're mine. [He adds quickly.]
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Another hops into view, expecting their owner to pay attention to them.] That one's Micheal. Whitney is the yellow one. Richie is probably in his house.
[They loom over the Mohammed and Tuuri and chirp in unison. They continue chirping, louder and rapidly, chanting their demand for affection and to warn each other of the newcomer.]
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[And loud. She plugs one ear up to try to block out the high-pitched chirping, a lot more intimidating from down here.]
Um, I don't know if they like me either. M-maybe we should keep going.
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[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
You can follow once I calm them down.
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