Encounterlogs
Aristotles Odd Encounter Sr Vincent 240520
In the quiet and supposedly supernatural town of Haven, Aristotle finds himself disturbed by an unknown caller demanding he resolve a "troublesome activity" involving a kidnapped girl and her captor, Alan K. Galyean. Despite Aristotle's suspicions about the legality and morality of the caller's request, evidence presented to him pushes him to investigate. Aristotle, a figure of law enforcement, decides to seek the alleged kidnapper in a nearby apartment complex, armed with details provided by the mysterious voice. His preparations are thorough, yet he is left without backup due to unforeseen circumstances dispatch details over the radio. Upon arrival, Aristotle teams up with Harriet, a skilled and reliable ally, who arrives in her Aston Martin, ready to assist.
The investigation swiftly escalates upon their forced entry into Galyean's apartment, with Harriet's powerful kick shattering not just the physical entrance but the eerie silence of the night. They encounter resistance in the form of Alan himself, who charges at them with a ferocity hinting at supernatural speed. A struggle ensues, highlighting Aristotle's quick thinking and Harriet's physical prowess, culminating in Alan's incapacitation through a combination of Aristotle's unexpected powers and Harriet's decisive actions. However, the situation complicates further when a young girl, identified as Alan's daughter, suddenly emerges, pleading for her father's release and shattering the initial assumption of her kidnapping. The plot twists again with another message from the unknown caller, demanding the girl be brought to a specified location, leaving Aristotle and Harriet at a moral crossroads, questioning the true nature of the situation they've been dragged into.
(Aristotle's odd encounter(SRVincent):SRVincent)
[Sun May 19 2024]
In the Master Bedroom of an eerie colonial building
The lavish master bedroom offers a large, queen sized bed on a frame of thick wood. Each side of the bed features an antique night stand, making it quite comfortable and classy all-in-all. A corner couch with a coffee table - paired with a modern coffee machine offering a touch display and a wide selection of teas - make for a comfortable place to sit, right in-front of the windows that show the vistas of the north side of Haven and the harbor. Across the windows an antique desk offers a laptop computer, completed with a massive, plush leather desk chair.
It is dusk, about 87F(30C) degrees, and the sky is covered by thin white clouds.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
At present, Aristotle lounges in bed, lazing the sunday away like a proper sloth. Phone in hand, he swipes his thumb along the screen as he scrolls through videos on TikTok, doomscrolling.
In the late evening, it's a calm and quiet night in the town of the supernatural, Haven with dazzling moonlight shining from the windows into the luxurious bedroom in which Aristotle, currently lying on the bed scrolling through the typical videos playing cats, and dogs, lesser clothed persons, the normal tick-tok experience. When suddenly before another video starts playing something involving a conspiracy theory about the government about people hiding 'THE TRUTH' going by the title, the screen switches with a buzz, and the screen displays who the call is from... well more like not displaying at all, as instead of a number it simply has 'unknown number' on the screen of the rose gold iPhone, as it continues /buz-buz-buz/ in this currently calm night.
The buzzing of his phone interrupting his doomscrolling sees Aristotle huffing quietly, as if the slightest inconvenience has ruined his night. It hasn't, but that little huff would have one wondering. And that phone buzzes, and buzzes, and buzzes for a long time, much like it does when it's dispatch calling him and he's not in the mood to work, despite being on call 24/7. Just before it goes to voicemail, though, he answers and sets the phone on speaker. "Hello?"
As Aristotle answers the phone the line is quiet for a few moments, is this just another spam caller that will hangup in a few short moments as there is some sound coming from the other end of the line, perhaps movement, background noise, or light breathing before then someone speaks on the other end, man, woman, creature one is unable to truly know as it's fairly obvious on the first couple of words that said voice is marked with a heavy filter that changes in tempo and depth on each word. "Aristotle is it. I have a job for you." The voice says and in a few moments speaks some more, as if Aristotle has already agreed. "It's simple really someone of note needs... taken care of in such a way that they no longer are an issue." The voice says, this time a pause to allow black-haired man time to reply to this unknown voice.
There's a moment of pause when the voice on the other line speaks, and Aristotle takes a moment to register his words. He doesn't reply immediately, but he does start to rise up from his bed. "This... is an interesting request to make, considering it sounds like a hit job and you might not be asking the right person. Who is this?" He asks. He sets his phone on the dresser, freeing his hands to grab a pen and paper, as well as his police badge.
There is a light chuckle from the other end of the iPhone, the raising and lowering of the masking software presumably, not pleasing to the ear, as all sound pauses from the device as Aristotle picks up their pen and paper only speaking once again that the officer has his tools of note-taking. "It's simple really, an individual must be located, this person has made themself a nuisance to friends on mine and your the /perfect person/ for the job, this individual has made a note of themselves for... troublesome activity that can't stand any longer. Wouldn't you like to /To Protect and to Serve/ as a good man of the law?" The voice explains... but lacking in detail.
"...Again, who is this?" Aristotle asks, brow creasing a bit with slight resistance evident on his features as he mulls over the words spoken to him. "And it's clear you know you're speaking to law enforcement, right? If you're calling a cop to help you do something illegal, I promise you it will backfire. So, I'm going to need you to get specific on what this 'emergency' is, and why I'm the 'perfect person' for the 'job.'" He says. He leans against the dresser, eyes set on his phone as he waits.
There is silence on the other end a pause in the night air before the voice speaks. "Just call me a /very/ concerned citizen, here." After that last word, there is a text notification on the iPhone from a random number, the contents of which are such; a video and two pictures should Aristotle play the video it contains a short clip that seems to be from some old camera the video being black and white, with slow frames showing an older man and a little girl, the former taking the young girl by the arm and placing her into the vehicle by placing her into the front passenger seat from the drivers end, before then buckling up while slamming the car door shut and driving away in a hurry as three figures rush forward into dust. These figures are blurred out and noticeably the audio seems to be cut, as the blobs seemly point towards the direction of perhaps where the car went before rushing out of frame as the video ends. The pictures themselves seem to be of a close-up of an older man in his late forty with a shortbread, black with some grey seemly taken from a distance, with the other photo being of the little girl perhaps around five or six. "This individual is disturbed, and must be located and in turn, the girl must be found and retrieved... you know what they say the first twenty four hours are important... perhaps you might turn me down officer, but will you turn her down?"
There's a grunt in reply at the 'concerned citizen' line, which naturally shows Aristotle doesn't buy that in the slightest. Yet still, evidence is sent to his phone, and of course those videos get played. He leans down to watch the screen, apprehension and suspicion in his features turning to concern. "Interesting." He says. When the voice starts to speak again, the question posed gets ignored by Aristotle and instead he poses one of his own. "You know who this individual is. What's his name and where is he located?" He asks.
"Indeed /officer/ his name is Alan K. Galyean, born in May the twenty-second, the year of nineteen seventy-four, his social security number is 452-15-645, his mother's maiden name Lutz, he is 5' 6", weighs 176.4 pounds, his blood type is O+, and he drives 2005 Nissan Quest..." The voice explains saying one detail after another before they pause before speaking again. "Currently he is in an apartment complex, am sure you know the one, on the third floor, in two hundred four, be sure to note that down... currently due to reasons you don't need to know resources are currently limited to deal with this matter, and this is where you are called in /officer/ you need to go in there are an insure that the girl is found, and I must clear state that the girl must remain /unharmed at all costs/ understood, am sure I could perhaps incentive to smooth things over for such a task, but /will I really/ need to do that?""
Given the severity of the situation, information was certainly written down on that pad, but something about this man's tone doesn't seem to sit well with Aristotle. Once he has everything he feels he needs, he hangs up. The odds of this caller being at the end of the entirety of his speaking when the line disconnected is slim. Aristotle's phone gets pocketed with a, "Tsk. Dick," being levied at the disconnected caller. He makes his way to his wardrobe to change, donning on clothing that doesn't leave him shirtless in his pajamas. His badge is clipped to his waist. A holster strapped to his thigh, and when he returns to the notepad, he looks over the information. "Elm Street Apartments, third floor. I wonder if he's in the penthouse I owned." He inquires to himself. The last thing he gathers is a radio, and he calls in to dispatch to request backup with the same information he was given. It's only moments later that he makes his way out of his home en route to the apartments.
Once Aristotle fully makes his destination to the apartments the sounds of the wheels rolling along asphalt that needed to be replaced entirely years ago, only fixed up with shabby repairs as the car stops in a parking spot, the apartment complex looms into the night sky, some lights on but most off. Before Aristotle makes his way out of his vehicle whenever he decides to, the man receives a reply over the radio from dispatch. "Over this is dispatch, No can do about that backup... uhhh... some huge fight happened over at the succubus.. uhhh... it's a mess, units will be sent when available, out." Is the reply over, what are the chances of that.
"Understood." Aristotle replies in the radio. He doesn't seem surprised with the lack of backup, considering it's Haven's Police Department. He approaches the apartments, calmly pushing in to enter en route to the elevator, intent on taking it to the top floor.
As Aristotle enters the building it's a pretty quiet night no one seemly entering or exiting the building he enters the elevator empty before pressing the button, the doors closing with a little moment of pause before closing fully as there is a slight shift as it heads up the feeling of being slightly pressed down as some music comes over the elevator, out of season and tune from the speakers Christmas music "I don't want a lot for Christmas.. There is just one thing I need-" thus trapped and forced to listen to some of the cheerful song before /finally,/ the elevator opens ceasing the music into a short hallway which has the door to a penthouse the exact one mentioned in the call.
Whatever is on Aristotle's mind, which is likely the situation at hand, distracts him from the christmas music playing in the elevator. He doesn't seem to mull on it aside from the initial noticing it, given it's summer. Once the elevator is open and giving him access to the third floor, he steps through into the hall right to the penthouse mentioned. He stands at the door for a moment, setting his eyes around the exterior of the door as if to check for anything out of the ordinary. A few additional moments pass, before he's unclipping his badge and stowing it in his pocket. The first thing he tries with the door is the handle, as if to check if the door is locked or not.
Whether or not the door is locked or unlocked, Aristotle tugs his phone out a moment later. He starts to tap on the screen, quietly muttering to himself a, "Better safe than sorry, actually. Backup isn't a bad idea."
At present, Aristotle is waiting outside of a door to one of the penthouses.
Having received a text from Aristotle, Harriet responded to it immediately, informing the Wilson that she was on her way. During the drive to the intended destination, she follows the traffic laws perfectly in her very expensive Aston Martin, putting its impressive power to absolutely no use at all. This tall brunette drives like an old grandmother speed wise, but she is able to stay between the white lines on the road, unlike some true geriatrics she knows. She parks the vehicle once she's arrived, and exits, heading into the building and going up to the third floor to find Aristotle. A slender right hand raises as she waggles slim fingers his way in a gentle greeting, paired with a hushed, "They are inside here?"
A bright smile is offered to Harriet when Aristotle spots her, but it's short-lived. "Harry, thanks for coming." He says. Of the question she poses, he nods, but clarifies with, "I assume. I haven't made a move to go inside, yet." He says, before beginning to explain. "Some asshole called me from an unknown number. Refused to give me his name, and pretended to be some 'concerned citizen.'" He says, and the air quotes are heard evidently in his voice as a clear distinction that he trusts that caller as far as he could throw him. "But, he sent video of a kidnapping. A little girl should be inside. The captor, Alan K. Galyean, born in '74. That's about all I have, really. Called in to dispatch, but they don't have anyone available. So, that leads me to you."
The expression across Harriet's facial features is quite serious. Her soft, naturally plump lips are thinned as much as they can be as she takes in each and every word that Aristotle has to share with her over what is going on. A somber nod follows after she's spent a moment processing all of the information. "You're welcome," she replies. "Ah..." gets exhaled out before she says, "One of those nights..." Apparently, this isn't the fist time she's been involved in such a situation. "Well, do you have a plan to get in?" the brunette wonders next, hazel eyes drifting from the deputy and to the door before them. "I have a landmine back in the car." As if that would help, but perhaps that does explain her very careful driving.
"Well, I was just going to try the front door, first." Aristotle says, motioning towards the handle. He shakes his head, "A landmine probably won't work, given Sanctuary. To be honest, I'm wondering if this can be resolved with us talking our way out of this." He says. "Mainly, I don't trust the person who called this in, and clearly Alan doesn't either." He says with a gesture to the door. "There's probably some deal that can be worked out in exchange for the girl, but... we'd need information from Alan first. So..."
After checking the door seems pretty typical, just another similar to all others in the apartment complex, with Aristotle checking the handle would find out that it's locked with a slight click made seems not to open the door but is noticeable with its noise, which Harriet just carving into the floor after have also might take notice of after going though hearing the lovely song out of season and out of tune 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' in the elevator, assuming they didn't take the stairs instead. In the midst of their conversation though is a sudden noticeable loud movement away from the door which comes with a loud crash as if something large has just fallen over, seemly just at the other side of the door, as the thumping lowers in volume quieter away as there is a scream of a young girl shortly after, high pitched socked with fear as a deep voice muffled by the walls but still seemly not a lot of sound insulation as the two can hear. "Move over their!" In said deeper voice.
The crashing from the other side of the door, along with the deeper, commanding tone has Aristotle pulling his attention directly towards it. He takes a step to the side, as if giving Harriet the reigns for a brief moment before asking, "Can you kick it open?"
Always looking for a way to deploy a landmine, apparently... the Warden gives another solemn nod to Aristotle. "I thought perhaps if we threw it, it might break down the door," she shares her invaluable wisdom... but is Harriet serious? It is quite difficult to tell. Her face is still very stoic, and then she recalls, "Strangely, Christmas music was playing in the elevator. I swear, holiday tunes start playing earlier and earlier every year. Goodness, it isn't even Christmas in July yet. It is not even June." Once she's gotten that out the way, as it was clearly bothering her, she's able to refocus her attention on Aristotle and the task at hand, far away from those thoughts of Mariah Carey and radio station choices that apparently irk her. Then the *crash* happens, and she raises both eyebrows, letting the deputy choose how to handle the scenario they are involved in. Nodding in response, she says, "I can certainly try." A quick glance is given over her shoulder, and then she approaches the task with a calm, focused demeanor. Standing near the door, she assesses it briefly, her hazel eyes narrowing as she gauges the most effective point for impact. With a graceful yet powerful stride forward, she positions herself for maximum leverage. Drawing a deep breath, the brunette shifts her weight back then surges forward in a fluid motion. Her leg, clothed in denim, arcs through the air and then slams the sole of her boot right into the door, just beside the lock with a resounding thud in hopes of kicking the door wide open.
With that powerful and skilled kick from Harriet that door does not so much slam open, but slams the door down breaking the hinges instead of the lock, as it skits forward across the room the door hits the opposite piercing the wall in clear view to Aristotle and Harriet at their angle of entrance of the apartment; talk about bad door design.. or that might just be from Harriet's power alone... Seemly that crash from the other side of the door was someone forcefully making a solid wooden console table that was beside the door, crash in front of the door block to prevent /just this/ as it lays somewhat dislodged away from the door.
From what the two can see there is no one in clear view of sight after the crash just as it's now silent, the current angle of the two at the door now allows a clear view but it seems this is a small entrance hallway that opens up into a living room with a partial sight of a couch that's knocked over.
"Good." Aristotle says of Harriet's work, as her skill and strength make that front door an afterthought. From there, he steps back into view in front of Harriet, lest she be spotted first by anyone who may be watching. He holds a free hand back behind him towards Harriet, beckoning her silence as he starts to make his way inside, making an attempt at stealth in the process while he silently encourages Harriet to enter behind him.
Clearing her throat very quietly, Harriet composes herself very quickly after there was a moment of, 'did I do that?' when the kick is a bit too successful. She lets Aristotle take the lead, and remains behind him, waiting to see what the deputy does. When the man is entering into the penthouse, she follows, carefully stepping along in her own attempt at being stealthy.
The two make their way into the hallway and past that to enter the living area, their skill proving true in ensuring that they are not heard. They see now, in clear view, the penthouse's general living area with a sofa knocked over and something playing on the TV, which seems to be Nickelodeon, showing an episode of 'Monster High' at a low volume; with a scattering of toy dolls along the ground seemingly from that show itself. From that position, they can see an open balcony door in which a pair of binoculars is left abandoned half inside the apartment and half out on the balcony itself. Then there is a /sudden loud click/ from the direction of the open-concept kitchen, which seems to be just a coffee machine just starting to brew a new pot of coffee that falls into a cup, the steam coming up from a blue mug. There is also another hall that leads to two doors the left one slightly ajar as the sounds of a washing machine can be heard 'thunk-thunk-thinking' along and another closed door opposite.
As they move through the penthouse, Aristotle takes great care to ensure he's moving as silently as possible. Though, given the fact that the door is busted, whomever is inside probably knows they've been invaded. The clicking turns his attention immediately towards the noise, his hand instinctively going to his holster where his gun is, but spotting it's just the coffee maker, he relaxes. Eyes glance over to Harriet, before he's looking through with a glance towards the other halls. He motions towards the hall where the low thunking is heard, a question in his eyes as he gauges if Harriet heard or not before starting to move through.
The coffee maker startles Harriet some, and she was reaching into her charming handbag to retrieve a gun, but as Aristotle relaxes, so does she. A long exhale is had as she steadies herself. It is getting late, and she must go to bed soon, so she's looking around, taking in the interior of the place. When Aristotle motions to the hall, she gives a confirming nod to show that she, too, heard it.
As the two make their way down the hall toward the hall where it becomes clear that sounds from the slightly open door are from the washing machine, though suddenly through the opposite door, a man bursts through the now slamming door against the wall rushing towards it with two intruders, armed with only closed fists raised and with teeth bared from his mask of a black and greyish beard as he goes for Aristotle in that sudden charge faster then any mortal as the right to move. "Die fucker!" The bearded man grits out as he swings at the other man, perhaps or perhaps not hitting him while his brown eyes shift over to Harriet.
And then there's a man charging him. Coming through the slamming door sees Aristotle's eyes darting in that direction, and when he spots whom he presumes to be Alan coming his way, he takes a step back to brace himself. Though, this man moves faster than a mortal can in his charge, so there may be limited time for Aristotle to prepare himself. There isn't much room to duck or dive in the hallway, so he opts instead to try and snag the wrists of this man in an attempt to redirect him towards the wall in a grappled pin. Whether he's successful, given he's caught off guard, is anyone's guess.
This is when Harriet grabs her gun, and she pulls out a revolver. It has no safety and its chamber is fully loaded. She holds it up, pointing it at the bearded man. Her finger does not move to the trigger, hazel eyes watching as Aristotle attempts to take down the stranger. The woman is prepared to shoot, but she remains there, stanced, ready fire.
There is semi-success from Aristotle as indeed he manages to redirect the while fast strike but quite reckless one from yelling man, fist going through the wall like butter, the man, presumably Alan momentum does not cease though the man shoulder striking Aristotle into the laundry room, the door slamming open and skidding the man across the tile floor. Pulling his fist out of the wall, the bread man looks at Harriet he lifts that hand into an open palm lifting the other hand open plan too, as he shifts just one foot forward towards her... clearly attempting to get close to the woman gun holding as he speaks. "I give up... you evil fuckers." Presumably Alan says those eyes tell a different story.
Aristotle finds himself shoulder chucked into the laundry room, the wind knocked out of him as he skids to a halt on the floor with an audible, "Oomf!" He's dazed, and it'd likely take him a while to get back to his feet. He makes an exerted effort though to recover quickly, but for now whatever happens next seems to be up to Harriet's discretion.
In response to the unfolding situation, Harriet's instincts and years of training are used in this moment after Aristotle disappears into the laundry room. Despite the man's declaration of surrender, her hazel eyes narrow slightly, reading the deceit in his posture and the tension in his limbs. She does not lower her guard, keeping the revolver trained on the stranger. In a calculated step, she moves backwards to maintain her distance, attempting to ensure she remains out of reach should the man try to make a sudden move. In a calm, yet very firm voice, she says, "Stay exactly where you are," in an instruction. "Hands where I can see them, and no sudden movements. You have chosen a poor way to surrender, and I advise you not to complicate the situation further." She focuses heavily on him, trying to influence the man with hypnotism, locking her gaze on his own in an attempt to put him into a trance.
There is a sneer from the man as makes a semi-step forward moving slowly before it stops and doesn't take another step after that seemly Harriet's hypnotism worked as he glowers with intense eyes at Harriet as he then speaks some more. "You going to have to go over my dead body." The presumably Alan says with steel in his voice as he glances towards the gun before then looking back to Harriet his neck craning slightly as he glances at the door where he just exited before looking back to the gun pointed at him.
There's a quiet little grunt that leaves Aristotle as he seems to finally catch his bearings. He's back to the present in time to hear Alan's words, and his clear reluctance of surrendering. He starts to make his way out of the laundry room where he was thrown, and exhales. "...Christ," he states. And then, with a gesture, he's hoisting Alan in the air with an exertion of effort, leaving the man helpless for Harriet to subdue with much less resistance.
Rushing forward as Aristotle lifts Alan up into the air, Harriet takes advantage of the moment, and she is grabbing her pair of handcuffs (not the kind that are fuzz lined, either), immediately locking the man's wrists behind his back. She nods to Aristotle, and then she's suddenly jacked up with a heck of a lot more power, and she... headbutts him as hard as she can, attemtping to knock the man unconscious in her anger over this entire situation.
With the sudden intervention of Aristotle there is really nothing the bearded man can do as he slightly swings in the air likely quite unused to floating in the air his eyes widen and his arms swing as if to catch his balance. In such a state it's no surprise that Harriet manages to grab the man's wrist and lock him up with the indeed not the kinky kind of cuffs, as his head and eyes turn behind him only to be met with a sigh of a rushing forehead that hits him squire in the head making the man go limp into the air like a puppet who strings have been cut as he just floats there.
With Alan finally handcuffed and knocked out thanks to Harriet's actions, Aristotle lowers his hand and lets Alan ragdoll on the ground. He huffs, silently for a moment, before looking to Harriet. "Sorry you had to see that, and, thanks for being here. I'm gonna call this in and have some other deputies come by to pick him up and get pick up the little girl he nabbed." He explains.
After Harriet's success, she looks all right, even though she just knocked a man out through the use of her skull. She gives a nod to Aristotle, and she tells him, "I am glad I could help," in a sincere tone. "If you need help with anything else, please, call me any time, Ari. It is my pleasure."
"Will do. Thank you." Aristotle says, adding an emphasis to his gratitude. He takes a moment to look at Alan, before withdrawing cuffs of his own, standard police issue, from his holster and adds an extra layer of binding by cuffing his ankles together. "I'll keep you posted on how all this goes once I hear back from how his processing went."
Now with the man retrained and knocked out, there next to the recently opened door seemly standing next to the door that the man barged out of is said little girl the one that Aristotle received a picture of from the strange voice she looks at the floating man and screams. "Daddy!" With a shilling scream... it might not be as simple as a kidnapping now as she cries tears falling to the floor and asks them to let him go just then Aristotle phone buzzes with a text demanding for him to drop off the girl at a location nearby... What shall they do is up to them of this headache of perhaps not quite a abduction.
The investigation swiftly escalates upon their forced entry into Galyean's apartment, with Harriet's powerful kick shattering not just the physical entrance but the eerie silence of the night. They encounter resistance in the form of Alan himself, who charges at them with a ferocity hinting at supernatural speed. A struggle ensues, highlighting Aristotle's quick thinking and Harriet's physical prowess, culminating in Alan's incapacitation through a combination of Aristotle's unexpected powers and Harriet's decisive actions. However, the situation complicates further when a young girl, identified as Alan's daughter, suddenly emerges, pleading for her father's release and shattering the initial assumption of her kidnapping. The plot twists again with another message from the unknown caller, demanding the girl be brought to a specified location, leaving Aristotle and Harriet at a moral crossroads, questioning the true nature of the situation they've been dragged into.
(Aristotle's odd encounter(SRVincent):SRVincent)
[Sun May 19 2024]
In the Master Bedroom of an eerie colonial building
The lavish master bedroom offers a large, queen sized bed on a frame of thick wood. Each side of the bed features an antique night stand, making it quite comfortable and classy all-in-all. A corner couch with a coffee table - paired with a modern coffee machine offering a touch display and a wide selection of teas - make for a comfortable place to sit, right in-front of the windows that show the vistas of the north side of Haven and the harbor. Across the windows an antique desk offers a laptop computer, completed with a massive, plush leather desk chair.
It is dusk, about 87F(30C) degrees, and the sky is covered by thin white clouds.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
At present, Aristotle lounges in bed, lazing the sunday away like a proper sloth. Phone in hand, he swipes his thumb along the screen as he scrolls through videos on TikTok, doomscrolling.
In the late evening, it's a calm and quiet night in the town of the supernatural, Haven with dazzling moonlight shining from the windows into the luxurious bedroom in which Aristotle, currently lying on the bed scrolling through the typical videos playing cats, and dogs, lesser clothed persons, the normal tick-tok experience. When suddenly before another video starts playing something involving a conspiracy theory about the government about people hiding 'THE TRUTH' going by the title, the screen switches with a buzz, and the screen displays who the call is from... well more like not displaying at all, as instead of a number it simply has 'unknown number' on the screen of the rose gold iPhone, as it continues /buz-buz-buz/ in this currently calm night.
The buzzing of his phone interrupting his doomscrolling sees Aristotle huffing quietly, as if the slightest inconvenience has ruined his night. It hasn't, but that little huff would have one wondering. And that phone buzzes, and buzzes, and buzzes for a long time, much like it does when it's dispatch calling him and he's not in the mood to work, despite being on call 24/7. Just before it goes to voicemail, though, he answers and sets the phone on speaker. "Hello?"
As Aristotle answers the phone the line is quiet for a few moments, is this just another spam caller that will hangup in a few short moments as there is some sound coming from the other end of the line, perhaps movement, background noise, or light breathing before then someone speaks on the other end, man, woman, creature one is unable to truly know as it's fairly obvious on the first couple of words that said voice is marked with a heavy filter that changes in tempo and depth on each word. "Aristotle is it. I have a job for you." The voice says and in a few moments speaks some more, as if Aristotle has already agreed. "It's simple really someone of note needs... taken care of in such a way that they no longer are an issue." The voice says, this time a pause to allow black-haired man time to reply to this unknown voice.
There's a moment of pause when the voice on the other line speaks, and Aristotle takes a moment to register his words. He doesn't reply immediately, but he does start to rise up from his bed. "This... is an interesting request to make, considering it sounds like a hit job and you might not be asking the right person. Who is this?" He asks. He sets his phone on the dresser, freeing his hands to grab a pen and paper, as well as his police badge.
There is a light chuckle from the other end of the iPhone, the raising and lowering of the masking software presumably, not pleasing to the ear, as all sound pauses from the device as Aristotle picks up their pen and paper only speaking once again that the officer has his tools of note-taking. "It's simple really, an individual must be located, this person has made themself a nuisance to friends on mine and your the /perfect person/ for the job, this individual has made a note of themselves for... troublesome activity that can't stand any longer. Wouldn't you like to /To Protect and to Serve/ as a good man of the law?" The voice explains... but lacking in detail.
"...Again, who is this?" Aristotle asks, brow creasing a bit with slight resistance evident on his features as he mulls over the words spoken to him. "And it's clear you know you're speaking to law enforcement, right? If you're calling a cop to help you do something illegal, I promise you it will backfire. So, I'm going to need you to get specific on what this 'emergency' is, and why I'm the 'perfect person' for the 'job.'" He says. He leans against the dresser, eyes set on his phone as he waits.
There is silence on the other end a pause in the night air before the voice speaks. "Just call me a /very/ concerned citizen, here." After that last word, there is a text notification on the iPhone from a random number, the contents of which are such; a video and two pictures should Aristotle play the video it contains a short clip that seems to be from some old camera the video being black and white, with slow frames showing an older man and a little girl, the former taking the young girl by the arm and placing her into the vehicle by placing her into the front passenger seat from the drivers end, before then buckling up while slamming the car door shut and driving away in a hurry as three figures rush forward into dust. These figures are blurred out and noticeably the audio seems to be cut, as the blobs seemly point towards the direction of perhaps where the car went before rushing out of frame as the video ends. The pictures themselves seem to be of a close-up of an older man in his late forty with a shortbread, black with some grey seemly taken from a distance, with the other photo being of the little girl perhaps around five or six. "This individual is disturbed, and must be located and in turn, the girl must be found and retrieved... you know what they say the first twenty four hours are important... perhaps you might turn me down officer, but will you turn her down?"
There's a grunt in reply at the 'concerned citizen' line, which naturally shows Aristotle doesn't buy that in the slightest. Yet still, evidence is sent to his phone, and of course those videos get played. He leans down to watch the screen, apprehension and suspicion in his features turning to concern. "Interesting." He says. When the voice starts to speak again, the question posed gets ignored by Aristotle and instead he poses one of his own. "You know who this individual is. What's his name and where is he located?" He asks.
"Indeed /officer/ his name is Alan K. Galyean, born in May the twenty-second, the year of nineteen seventy-four, his social security number is 452-15-645, his mother's maiden name Lutz, he is 5' 6", weighs 176.4 pounds, his blood type is O+, and he drives 2005 Nissan Quest..." The voice explains saying one detail after another before they pause before speaking again. "Currently he is in an apartment complex, am sure you know the one, on the third floor, in two hundred four, be sure to note that down... currently due to reasons you don't need to know resources are currently limited to deal with this matter, and this is where you are called in /officer/ you need to go in there are an insure that the girl is found, and I must clear state that the girl must remain /unharmed at all costs/ understood, am sure I could perhaps incentive to smooth things over for such a task, but /will I really/ need to do that?""
Given the severity of the situation, information was certainly written down on that pad, but something about this man's tone doesn't seem to sit well with Aristotle. Once he has everything he feels he needs, he hangs up. The odds of this caller being at the end of the entirety of his speaking when the line disconnected is slim. Aristotle's phone gets pocketed with a, "Tsk. Dick," being levied at the disconnected caller. He makes his way to his wardrobe to change, donning on clothing that doesn't leave him shirtless in his pajamas. His badge is clipped to his waist. A holster strapped to his thigh, and when he returns to the notepad, he looks over the information. "Elm Street Apartments, third floor. I wonder if he's in the penthouse I owned." He inquires to himself. The last thing he gathers is a radio, and he calls in to dispatch to request backup with the same information he was given. It's only moments later that he makes his way out of his home en route to the apartments.
Once Aristotle fully makes his destination to the apartments the sounds of the wheels rolling along asphalt that needed to be replaced entirely years ago, only fixed up with shabby repairs as the car stops in a parking spot, the apartment complex looms into the night sky, some lights on but most off. Before Aristotle makes his way out of his vehicle whenever he decides to, the man receives a reply over the radio from dispatch. "Over this is dispatch, No can do about that backup... uhhh... some huge fight happened over at the succubus.. uhhh... it's a mess, units will be sent when available, out." Is the reply over, what are the chances of that.
"Understood." Aristotle replies in the radio. He doesn't seem surprised with the lack of backup, considering it's Haven's Police Department. He approaches the apartments, calmly pushing in to enter en route to the elevator, intent on taking it to the top floor.
As Aristotle enters the building it's a pretty quiet night no one seemly entering or exiting the building he enters the elevator empty before pressing the button, the doors closing with a little moment of pause before closing fully as there is a slight shift as it heads up the feeling of being slightly pressed down as some music comes over the elevator, out of season and tune from the speakers Christmas music "I don't want a lot for Christmas.. There is just one thing I need-" thus trapped and forced to listen to some of the cheerful song before /finally,/ the elevator opens ceasing the music into a short hallway which has the door to a penthouse the exact one mentioned in the call.
Whatever is on Aristotle's mind, which is likely the situation at hand, distracts him from the christmas music playing in the elevator. He doesn't seem to mull on it aside from the initial noticing it, given it's summer. Once the elevator is open and giving him access to the third floor, he steps through into the hall right to the penthouse mentioned. He stands at the door for a moment, setting his eyes around the exterior of the door as if to check for anything out of the ordinary. A few additional moments pass, before he's unclipping his badge and stowing it in his pocket. The first thing he tries with the door is the handle, as if to check if the door is locked or not.
Whether or not the door is locked or unlocked, Aristotle tugs his phone out a moment later. He starts to tap on the screen, quietly muttering to himself a, "Better safe than sorry, actually. Backup isn't a bad idea."
At present, Aristotle is waiting outside of a door to one of the penthouses.
Having received a text from Aristotle, Harriet responded to it immediately, informing the Wilson that she was on her way. During the drive to the intended destination, she follows the traffic laws perfectly in her very expensive Aston Martin, putting its impressive power to absolutely no use at all. This tall brunette drives like an old grandmother speed wise, but she is able to stay between the white lines on the road, unlike some true geriatrics she knows. She parks the vehicle once she's arrived, and exits, heading into the building and going up to the third floor to find Aristotle. A slender right hand raises as she waggles slim fingers his way in a gentle greeting, paired with a hushed, "They are inside here?"
A bright smile is offered to Harriet when Aristotle spots her, but it's short-lived. "Harry, thanks for coming." He says. Of the question she poses, he nods, but clarifies with, "I assume. I haven't made a move to go inside, yet." He says, before beginning to explain. "Some asshole called me from an unknown number. Refused to give me his name, and pretended to be some 'concerned citizen.'" He says, and the air quotes are heard evidently in his voice as a clear distinction that he trusts that caller as far as he could throw him. "But, he sent video of a kidnapping. A little girl should be inside. The captor, Alan K. Galyean, born in '74. That's about all I have, really. Called in to dispatch, but they don't have anyone available. So, that leads me to you."
The expression across Harriet's facial features is quite serious. Her soft, naturally plump lips are thinned as much as they can be as she takes in each and every word that Aristotle has to share with her over what is going on. A somber nod follows after she's spent a moment processing all of the information. "You're welcome," she replies. "Ah..." gets exhaled out before she says, "One of those nights..." Apparently, this isn't the fist time she's been involved in such a situation. "Well, do you have a plan to get in?" the brunette wonders next, hazel eyes drifting from the deputy and to the door before them. "I have a landmine back in the car." As if that would help, but perhaps that does explain her very careful driving.
"Well, I was just going to try the front door, first." Aristotle says, motioning towards the handle. He shakes his head, "A landmine probably won't work, given Sanctuary. To be honest, I'm wondering if this can be resolved with us talking our way out of this." He says. "Mainly, I don't trust the person who called this in, and clearly Alan doesn't either." He says with a gesture to the door. "There's probably some deal that can be worked out in exchange for the girl, but... we'd need information from Alan first. So..."
After checking the door seems pretty typical, just another similar to all others in the apartment complex, with Aristotle checking the handle would find out that it's locked with a slight click made seems not to open the door but is noticeable with its noise, which Harriet just carving into the floor after have also might take notice of after going though hearing the lovely song out of season and out of tune 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' in the elevator, assuming they didn't take the stairs instead. In the midst of their conversation though is a sudden noticeable loud movement away from the door which comes with a loud crash as if something large has just fallen over, seemly just at the other side of the door, as the thumping lowers in volume quieter away as there is a scream of a young girl shortly after, high pitched socked with fear as a deep voice muffled by the walls but still seemly not a lot of sound insulation as the two can hear. "Move over their!" In said deeper voice.
The crashing from the other side of the door, along with the deeper, commanding tone has Aristotle pulling his attention directly towards it. He takes a step to the side, as if giving Harriet the reigns for a brief moment before asking, "Can you kick it open?"
Always looking for a way to deploy a landmine, apparently... the Warden gives another solemn nod to Aristotle. "I thought perhaps if we threw it, it might break down the door," she shares her invaluable wisdom... but is Harriet serious? It is quite difficult to tell. Her face is still very stoic, and then she recalls, "Strangely, Christmas music was playing in the elevator. I swear, holiday tunes start playing earlier and earlier every year. Goodness, it isn't even Christmas in July yet. It is not even June." Once she's gotten that out the way, as it was clearly bothering her, she's able to refocus her attention on Aristotle and the task at hand, far away from those thoughts of Mariah Carey and radio station choices that apparently irk her. Then the *crash* happens, and she raises both eyebrows, letting the deputy choose how to handle the scenario they are involved in. Nodding in response, she says, "I can certainly try." A quick glance is given over her shoulder, and then she approaches the task with a calm, focused demeanor. Standing near the door, she assesses it briefly, her hazel eyes narrowing as she gauges the most effective point for impact. With a graceful yet powerful stride forward, she positions herself for maximum leverage. Drawing a deep breath, the brunette shifts her weight back then surges forward in a fluid motion. Her leg, clothed in denim, arcs through the air and then slams the sole of her boot right into the door, just beside the lock with a resounding thud in hopes of kicking the door wide open.
With that powerful and skilled kick from Harriet that door does not so much slam open, but slams the door down breaking the hinges instead of the lock, as it skits forward across the room the door hits the opposite piercing the wall in clear view to Aristotle and Harriet at their angle of entrance of the apartment; talk about bad door design.. or that might just be from Harriet's power alone... Seemly that crash from the other side of the door was someone forcefully making a solid wooden console table that was beside the door, crash in front of the door block to prevent /just this/ as it lays somewhat dislodged away from the door.
From what the two can see there is no one in clear view of sight after the crash just as it's now silent, the current angle of the two at the door now allows a clear view but it seems this is a small entrance hallway that opens up into a living room with a partial sight of a couch that's knocked over.
"Good." Aristotle says of Harriet's work, as her skill and strength make that front door an afterthought. From there, he steps back into view in front of Harriet, lest she be spotted first by anyone who may be watching. He holds a free hand back behind him towards Harriet, beckoning her silence as he starts to make his way inside, making an attempt at stealth in the process while he silently encourages Harriet to enter behind him.
Clearing her throat very quietly, Harriet composes herself very quickly after there was a moment of, 'did I do that?' when the kick is a bit too successful. She lets Aristotle take the lead, and remains behind him, waiting to see what the deputy does. When the man is entering into the penthouse, she follows, carefully stepping along in her own attempt at being stealthy.
The two make their way into the hallway and past that to enter the living area, their skill proving true in ensuring that they are not heard. They see now, in clear view, the penthouse's general living area with a sofa knocked over and something playing on the TV, which seems to be Nickelodeon, showing an episode of 'Monster High' at a low volume; with a scattering of toy dolls along the ground seemingly from that show itself. From that position, they can see an open balcony door in which a pair of binoculars is left abandoned half inside the apartment and half out on the balcony itself. Then there is a /sudden loud click/ from the direction of the open-concept kitchen, which seems to be just a coffee machine just starting to brew a new pot of coffee that falls into a cup, the steam coming up from a blue mug. There is also another hall that leads to two doors the left one slightly ajar as the sounds of a washing machine can be heard 'thunk-thunk-thinking' along and another closed door opposite.
As they move through the penthouse, Aristotle takes great care to ensure he's moving as silently as possible. Though, given the fact that the door is busted, whomever is inside probably knows they've been invaded. The clicking turns his attention immediately towards the noise, his hand instinctively going to his holster where his gun is, but spotting it's just the coffee maker, he relaxes. Eyes glance over to Harriet, before he's looking through with a glance towards the other halls. He motions towards the hall where the low thunking is heard, a question in his eyes as he gauges if Harriet heard or not before starting to move through.
The coffee maker startles Harriet some, and she was reaching into her charming handbag to retrieve a gun, but as Aristotle relaxes, so does she. A long exhale is had as she steadies herself. It is getting late, and she must go to bed soon, so she's looking around, taking in the interior of the place. When Aristotle motions to the hall, she gives a confirming nod to show that she, too, heard it.
As the two make their way down the hall toward the hall where it becomes clear that sounds from the slightly open door are from the washing machine, though suddenly through the opposite door, a man bursts through the now slamming door against the wall rushing towards it with two intruders, armed with only closed fists raised and with teeth bared from his mask of a black and greyish beard as he goes for Aristotle in that sudden charge faster then any mortal as the right to move. "Die fucker!" The bearded man grits out as he swings at the other man, perhaps or perhaps not hitting him while his brown eyes shift over to Harriet.
And then there's a man charging him. Coming through the slamming door sees Aristotle's eyes darting in that direction, and when he spots whom he presumes to be Alan coming his way, he takes a step back to brace himself. Though, this man moves faster than a mortal can in his charge, so there may be limited time for Aristotle to prepare himself. There isn't much room to duck or dive in the hallway, so he opts instead to try and snag the wrists of this man in an attempt to redirect him towards the wall in a grappled pin. Whether he's successful, given he's caught off guard, is anyone's guess.
This is when Harriet grabs her gun, and she pulls out a revolver. It has no safety and its chamber is fully loaded. She holds it up, pointing it at the bearded man. Her finger does not move to the trigger, hazel eyes watching as Aristotle attempts to take down the stranger. The woman is prepared to shoot, but she remains there, stanced, ready fire.
There is semi-success from Aristotle as indeed he manages to redirect the while fast strike but quite reckless one from yelling man, fist going through the wall like butter, the man, presumably Alan momentum does not cease though the man shoulder striking Aristotle into the laundry room, the door slamming open and skidding the man across the tile floor. Pulling his fist out of the wall, the bread man looks at Harriet he lifts that hand into an open palm lifting the other hand open plan too, as he shifts just one foot forward towards her... clearly attempting to get close to the woman gun holding as he speaks. "I give up... you evil fuckers." Presumably Alan says those eyes tell a different story.
Aristotle finds himself shoulder chucked into the laundry room, the wind knocked out of him as he skids to a halt on the floor with an audible, "Oomf!" He's dazed, and it'd likely take him a while to get back to his feet. He makes an exerted effort though to recover quickly, but for now whatever happens next seems to be up to Harriet's discretion.
In response to the unfolding situation, Harriet's instincts and years of training are used in this moment after Aristotle disappears into the laundry room. Despite the man's declaration of surrender, her hazel eyes narrow slightly, reading the deceit in his posture and the tension in his limbs. She does not lower her guard, keeping the revolver trained on the stranger. In a calculated step, she moves backwards to maintain her distance, attempting to ensure she remains out of reach should the man try to make a sudden move. In a calm, yet very firm voice, she says, "Stay exactly where you are," in an instruction. "Hands where I can see them, and no sudden movements. You have chosen a poor way to surrender, and I advise you not to complicate the situation further." She focuses heavily on him, trying to influence the man with hypnotism, locking her gaze on his own in an attempt to put him into a trance.
There is a sneer from the man as makes a semi-step forward moving slowly before it stops and doesn't take another step after that seemly Harriet's hypnotism worked as he glowers with intense eyes at Harriet as he then speaks some more. "You going to have to go over my dead body." The presumably Alan says with steel in his voice as he glances towards the gun before then looking back to Harriet his neck craning slightly as he glances at the door where he just exited before looking back to the gun pointed at him.
There's a quiet little grunt that leaves Aristotle as he seems to finally catch his bearings. He's back to the present in time to hear Alan's words, and his clear reluctance of surrendering. He starts to make his way out of the laundry room where he was thrown, and exhales. "...Christ," he states. And then, with a gesture, he's hoisting Alan in the air with an exertion of effort, leaving the man helpless for Harriet to subdue with much less resistance.
Rushing forward as Aristotle lifts Alan up into the air, Harriet takes advantage of the moment, and she is grabbing her pair of handcuffs (not the kind that are fuzz lined, either), immediately locking the man's wrists behind his back. She nods to Aristotle, and then she's suddenly jacked up with a heck of a lot more power, and she... headbutts him as hard as she can, attemtping to knock the man unconscious in her anger over this entire situation.
With the sudden intervention of Aristotle there is really nothing the bearded man can do as he slightly swings in the air likely quite unused to floating in the air his eyes widen and his arms swing as if to catch his balance. In such a state it's no surprise that Harriet manages to grab the man's wrist and lock him up with the indeed not the kinky kind of cuffs, as his head and eyes turn behind him only to be met with a sigh of a rushing forehead that hits him squire in the head making the man go limp into the air like a puppet who strings have been cut as he just floats there.
With Alan finally handcuffed and knocked out thanks to Harriet's actions, Aristotle lowers his hand and lets Alan ragdoll on the ground. He huffs, silently for a moment, before looking to Harriet. "Sorry you had to see that, and, thanks for being here. I'm gonna call this in and have some other deputies come by to pick him up and get pick up the little girl he nabbed." He explains.
After Harriet's success, she looks all right, even though she just knocked a man out through the use of her skull. She gives a nod to Aristotle, and she tells him, "I am glad I could help," in a sincere tone. "If you need help with anything else, please, call me any time, Ari. It is my pleasure."
"Will do. Thank you." Aristotle says, adding an emphasis to his gratitude. He takes a moment to look at Alan, before withdrawing cuffs of his own, standard police issue, from his holster and adds an extra layer of binding by cuffing his ankles together. "I'll keep you posted on how all this goes once I hear back from how his processing went."
Now with the man retrained and knocked out, there next to the recently opened door seemly standing next to the door that the man barged out of is said little girl the one that Aristotle received a picture of from the strange voice she looks at the floating man and screams. "Daddy!" With a shilling scream... it might not be as simple as a kidnapping now as she cries tears falling to the floor and asks them to let him go just then Aristotle phone buzzes with a text demanding for him to drop off the girl at a location nearby... What shall they do is up to them of this headache of perhaps not quite a abduction.