Wish You Were Here [Open]

Life was so frivolous. It was so malleable and it succumbed to the weakest annoyances. People were fragile, especially since they didn't know what true power was like. The term of "Somebody" didn't really apply to anyone but the overly destructive heroes and villains that fought and broke the homes of those in their way. Because no one was safe from the fragility of life, villains had begun running rampant even more so. It didn't help that the hidden darkness of the worlds had been terrorizing people who didn't know what was really going on. That darkness wasn't simply heartless, but criminals who'd eventually succumb to their carnal insides. That's why Bobby was there, looking down at the dead body. It was hard to see this kind of thing day in and day out. The poor girl was barely in her adulthood.

Crouching, Bobby looked down at the blanketed victim. The evident facts were that she had at some point had her throat torn out with several lacerations. From what he could understand, the killer had made it a sort of game. These weren't simply lacerations, they were patterned. The truly mortifying part of this was...this wasn't the first victim of the M.O. Bobby stood up, turning around and scurrying away. He brushed a hand through his hair, looking at the paparazzi trying to get a glimpse of the crime scene. He made sure to strike a few subtle poses with his hand digging into his hair. Pulling his coat back to put his hands on his sides, he revealed his badge clipped to his waistband and his pistol strapped underneath his left armpit. He shook his head, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket. Smoothly withdrawing one, he pulled a match from his other pocket and scrapped it on the surface of his coat to ignite it. Bringing it up to the cigarette, the orange glow of the match had illuminated his face.

Briefly, he obscured his face with the initial release of smoke, taking his own time to drown out everything around him as he took drafts of his cigarette. Tilting his head back and turning his hand to scratch his forehead with his thumb, he pondered what actually killed the victim. Bobby needed to wait for the autopsy, as it was what his job required, but the bodies kept disappearing. They tried investigating how it happened, but couldn't find a trace. He suspected those who transported the bodies were working with the local section's crime syndicate. As Twilight Town had grown, so did the underground crime. The weird connection to himself had kept him on his toes, knowing that a gun was always around the corner.

He even suspected people in Homicide to be corrupt, as was the usual bane of the TTPD. While he knew there were rules, he needed to make sure that the body was transferred safely. Watching the coroner's men prepare the body for transfer, he walked up to them, taking a heavy draft before exhaling away from the duo and their body. "Aye, Ricky. D-D. Let me hitch a ride, my paht-ner wants some donuts from the bakery. I just want to get back and dive into the paperwork.Can you do that for me body-boys?" He had a suave confidence about him that reminded people of his father, if they knew him. It struck both fear and a sort of social seduction into them that ultimately convinced them. Except these too. "Uhh....No-can-do Bobby. You know duh rules." "Pfft, rules-schmules. Don't worry, I'll keep the body warm-er-cold." "Bob-EEEEE! You know I can't do that." Bobby crouched down as Ricky had been, looking left and right and scratching his cheek with the hand that held his cigarette.

"I know about the fucking bodies. Let me in the truck or I'll have to use your fucking sockets as ashtrays." The quiet, harsh tone that Bobby took with his accent had paralyzed the duo. He noticed a sort of fidget from D-D like he had a gun or something, which immediately made the detective dart his eyes into D-D's. "I was born downhill, same as you two. We've been pals since we were little shits. You don't know what you're getting into. Now open up the truck and let me in." Ricky was the first to move, and the two opened up the truck. Standing up, a smile stretched across Bobby's face and he waltzed right into the truck. "Thank-you!" Taking a seat, he watched them slide the body into their truck before getting into it. They rolled off as soon as the truck was started for a few seconds.

Eventually D-D, who was in the passenger's side, had looked back at Bobby, who was staring sternly at the covered-up body. Turning his head to D-D, he gave a sarcastic and brief smile. "I know, I'm beautiful. But stop staring at me like some fucking downhill whore." "Sorry it had to be this way, Bobby. " The truck came to a stop, and immediately Bobby unholstered his gun. "Stare forward, don't fucking look back." D-D immediately shot his gaze forward. Hearing footsteps near the driver's window, Ricky had rolled down the window. Some words were exchanged, but Bobby couldn't hear. The two nervously exited the truck, and Bobby used their movement making the truck shake to peek around the corner. Ricky had left his door open while D-D shut his. Sliding out the back, he noticed that they were in one of the poorer areas. It wasn't as modernized, simply a shadow of the former Twilight Town. He respected Governor Pathos for what he did, but the rest of the city needed to be transitioned. Too many blindspots here.

Moving into an alley, he noticed a trio of armed men removing the body from the truck and loading it into their own. Once he looked around for a bit, he noticed exactly where he was at. Once the trio had driven away, he immediately approached Ricky and pistol-whipped him. Grabbing him by his scruffy hair, Bobby held the gun to his head. "Aight, you're gonna fucking tell me every detail. Ever which way they look, how their fucking hair curls, the direction they usually shit themselves in, I don't care. I want to know everything and YOU!" D-D was running off, causing Bobby to fire a warning shot. D-D slid off his feet and fell on his back, trembling to a stand. "Don't run off when Daddy Detective speaks. What were you thinking? I have a gun, you have a gun - which would be lovely if you tossed it over here - and you run!? Oh, boy. I was a downhill boy, I'm not fucking stupid like you are. The two of you, yeesh." Bobby threw Ricky to the ground, keeping the gun pointed at D-D who threw his own gun away from everyone.

"I'm sorry. Now would you kindly get your asses back into the truck and take me to the station? We're gonna have a lil' bit of a talk there." The pseudo-considerate tone and body language Bobby took got the spineless minions to get into the truck. Circling around, Bobby retrieved D-D's gun with a cloth. He heard a sudden tapping noise with a slight cracking noise following it. Circling to the front of the truck he immediately dropped D-D's gun and gripped his own hair out of frustration. "Oh Jesus!" He said, pacing briefly. Bobby looked at the now-dead body collectors who each had a hole punched into their foreheads, likely from a bullet. Pulling out his phone, he had to contact his partner, who was likely worried about him. "Yeah...Yep...I'm downhill, gonna need a crew of people down here, another crime scene. No, yeah, it looks bad. But it'll be pretty apparent I didn't do it- yeah I know I was there when it hap-YES I know I wasn't supposed to be in the-No, yeah...That's fine. See you in a few minutes." With that, he hung-up the phone and leaned his back against the truck, starting up another cigarette and holstering his gun.

"Fuckin' A. Nothin's ever normal in this place, is there?"

What were words? Words were the messages carried by the voices and languages of the many, to convey a certain idea or other to one another. These messages didn't just travel through oral communication, but technologically as well. For the last 20 years, the Crows had kept a close eye on Twilight Town, especially since the Heartless threat had began to grow more rampant. They feared another Hayden showing up and so, they had to monitor every facet of what it was that attracted danger to the world. Of course, this even meant investigating the more detailed intricacies of the town. First of all, the cliche rise in crime in the more poor areas, became an excellent source of information.

The poor easily exchanged spoken word for small favors and the like, plus some might have participated in bad business practice, which strengthened their connection to crime organizations or specific criminals. Every word and action had a trail. This particular case had the trail of words, actions, and murder. Cold-blooded murder and whenever there was a body to show up, a crow wouldn't be too far behind to pick at it. This is where Luke found himself among all the chaos.

His eyes, sharp and attentive, made sure to take in every detail related to the autopsy. The ebony-haired young man passed by the detective several times as he walked towards his objective, at first. After he confirmed that was the man in question, mentioned by several other Crows, he realized that wherever he went the trail would definitely grow stronger. Which is why the eighteen year-old stayed in the shadows. He operated quietly and efficiently, using his own supernatural abilities to keep his target within eyesight without disturbing him, nor the peers he spoke to.

Corruption usually and often sprouted in every group. The bigger it was, the harder it became to weed out and control the greed and insidious nature, which resided in man. A police force usually governed by its leaders was no exception to this. There were a few Crows who worked in the TTPD, but blended in as if they were normal, run of the mill officers, with their own methods of working alongside the corrupt individuals. They did nothing but just feed information, while Luke carefully took care of it with a skillful hand. The time to act wasn't then. Not until the truck began to move and the young man traveled at near impossible speeds, to stay hidden and close to the vehicle. It didn't get far.

By that time, Luke had already positioned himself in a spot to keep tabs on every body that had showed up. Six in total, counting the detective. From there, he watched the process of the armed trio taking the young lady's dead body and storing it in their truck. For what reason? He couldn't tell for sure, but used his phone to snap a few pictures of the men, body handling process, and the truck. After which, he focused on the altercation between the other body collectors and the detective. There was some shouting and physical violence that went on, but closer inspection warranted that the brown-haired male handled himself easily. Luckily enough for Luke, if he decided to enter in, he'd have a good cover to go under.

Then it happened. A silenced weapon went off and those sharp, black-eyes traveled over to where they had likely come from. Luke utilized his Hyper-Sensitivity to the immediate surroundings and couldn't quite make out the figure, but he had a general idea. That was his queue.

"Yo!" The young man called out from one of the blindspots and ran onto the scene. His face conveyed an expertly well-placed, faux concerned reaction. While he did care for the lives of the two dead men, it wasn't anything great enough to move him to tears. A damned shame, but not one he could immediately do something about. "Are you alright, bro? I saw some mean looking dudes and thought you were about to get gunned down. You and your friends alri..." His voice had trailed off when he saw those bodies, but it was all apart of the lie. The detective could easily tell when a normal, mediocre liar lies, but Luke wasn't mediocre and easily sold himself like an ignorant mercenary. Mercenary because he obviously had his katana, Edo, still by his side. "Christ... This must mean my trail has gone cold..." The young, Asian man lamented.

Bobby, kept taking heavy drafts from his cigarette, darting his head left and right. He was startled by a kid coming up to him, his arm flinching as if he were going to try and go for his gun. Noticing while the kid was armed, he was rather young and he couldn't shoot someone who's barely cleaned the green around his ears. Visibly angered, he took a draft before jerking his arm and cigarette from his mouth and wagging his hand towards the boy once. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he seemed frustrated, confused, and generally in shock. "The fuck are you doing downhill kid? What'ya supposed to be? Playing hero? Mercenary?" Shaking his head, he looked away but kept the boy in the corners of his eyes. "If yer from 'round here, you know the fucking deal. If ye' ain't, then you wouldn't be so calm." Bobby frowned, shaking his head but not looking at the boy.

"So why is some baby-face dancing 'round Downhill? And what was that about a trail? Hm?" That violent anger of Bobby rose for a moment. Removing himself from the truck's wall, he hunched a little, tilting his head to the side and squinting, slowly walking towards the boy. "Eh? The only trails I follow are for dead bodies. We could have a nice chat at the precinct." He stopped, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out with his foot. "But I got two bodies and I'm the only one here. Know anything about the downhill? Anyone who does in the P-D is gonna fuck me, so I recommend you never having a trail in the first place." Shaking his head, he returned to the truck, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. He was afraid, of course. Afraid of his work being undone by a few corrupt officers. If the morgue had moles, then the precinct does as well.

He knows the game. He knows the tricks the kids used to use back in the street days. Those tricks were still in the playing hands of kids turned adult. He played dirty too, he wouldn't lie. But Bobby didn't ruin lives when it isn't for the sake of the city. Now he was fucked, someone was going to frame him. Some kid would get involved if he stuck around, like Downhill didn't have enough problems. But judging on how the kid stuck his nose in things, he wasn't Downhill. If the kid said he was, he knew he'd be lying. No Downhill kid dared intrude in matters like these. "So, kid, not your first?" He implied the kid seeing the dead bodies as he tried calming his nerves with each draft.

Luke had thrown up his hands and shook them a bit. "Whoa, whoa, settle down, old timer. I understand your friends got shot and everything, but chill out. I'm here to help." He said easily and gave a light, nervous chuckle. He definitely wasn't from around those parts, though he that didn't mean he was new to this type of business. Lately, there had been a bit of morbid murders going on within his own group, but nobody really spoke about it. That girl was likely a Crow and for every dead body that showed up, Luke had to be there in order to confirm if any of his comrades had been hit again.

Man, that old man can really be a hardass but he figured that was apart of the detective charm, he's read all about. After his ranting and questions had been finished and asked respectively, Luke nodded his head and cleared his throat. "I follow bodies too, because every body left is another clue." He stated and sighed. "First off, though, we should get a read on that truck, find it if we can. When we do, we analyze the body further. Either that, or our search puts us right where we need to be." The young man said and pulled out his phone. With a careful few steps, Luke came over towards the older gentleman and showed him the pictures. "You see these?"

He began to swipe through them back and forth, making sure they'd be able to review them clearly. "Not my first time, clearly, since I was able to get a few decent shots. See these here? Got the three bozos with the guns, the truck, and the plate. Think we can run this somewhere we can trust anybody?" The Chinese man asked curiously.

Bobby couldn't help but give a sarcastic chuckle, looking left and right as he switched from sighing and frustration to resisting the urge to yell at the kid. His hands moved randomly, as if he was about to say something but withdrew. Crossing his arms and resting his head on his right hand, Bobby just took a moment. He couldn't just trust this kid, but the kid had information. Regardless, that interested him so he'd need to play the situation out without being too vulnerable. "...And, um, what is there reason for wanting to help me? Hm? Boy, I can't just say yes to every stranger who decides to politely not piss in my direction." He had very exaggerated body language, using it to solidify his points and add a facetious sarcasm to everything he said. Running one hand through his hair and having the other flap back his coat and then hold against his waist, he pondered how to proceed.

"Alright, say I let you help me, you're going to have to tell me what you know. I, in particular, don't know anything because as you can see, the case just began...practically." He couldn't help but be honest. The department had nothing, on paper nor in the hands of those really still working for the city. It was hard, because this required real detective work. The automatons would be too hard-wired to simple solutions that didn't consider the slippery slope everyone's actions shaped. They skipped past that careful cultivation process, and that's why the TTPD existed. But there was still red tape, despite the worlds containing the craziest of entities. Werewolves, edgy teens, psychotic mobsters oh my! It was all muck in his eyes. Bobby was afraid of the changes coming to the world, because it created more L'Ombra's or Darius Fetch's. People just grew too powerful.

He didn't get it, or see it. He knew magic existed or whatever, but Bobby wasn't too keen on acknowledging it. This was still the same city he grew up in. The same city that was set aflame, with many childhood friends dying in the fire. Brutally. The same city that was raided by heartless time and time again, but most memorably the attack made by the big ol' champ who killed Amadeo, the former mayor. Split in half, some people say. Looking back at Luke, he simply put his hands in his pocket. "City's fuckin' crazy. Y'know? I love it, but damn...If I trust you, we keep this ship tight, alright!? You better fucking keep anything you find between you and me. I don't know who to trust, not even my own partner. Things have just been so..." Bobby looked towards the bodies, shaking his head and sighing. It weighed heavily on his chest, his heart and his soul.

"...Just give me a few reasons why I should trust you, if not my partner."

The samurai waited through the detective's foul-mouthed speech and let him ramble on and on. Just from that alone, Luke had assumed that man had been through a lot and it was due to his particular social habits, that told such a story. Whether or not the man had a good life mattered to the ebony-haired male, because he required that form of information. Whenever possible, the suited young man would have to question this unlikely ally about his past later. Right now, however, he had to dispel the doubt between them temporarily.

"Look, man, this case matters to me on a much deeper scale. The more these bizarre strings of murders occur, the harder my job becomes. I am a mercenary and thus, I don't have any ties to your police force or any other governing body here for that matter. I'm doing this because I was hired to, but there wasn't any additional help given. The way how it looks, we're both up shit creek and one of us has a paddle. Me." He stated firmly then gave a light shrug of his shoulders. "We can keep all information exchanged between you and I, but before any of that can even happen I need you to trust me. Not enough to shake my hand but to look me in the eye, and understand that I'm trying to do good here. Just like you."Luke concluded his statement with confidence and hoped it'd be enough to sway the guy. Even if the detective was a bust, he still had two other options to try out, before having to solve everything on his own.

A light sigh came from his lips and he stood up straighter. The samurai may have been young but he did fit the part of a matured adult. After all, he embraced the crazy that was these types of jobs and decided to just work along the flow of weirdness, rather than staunch it. That's why he was always out and about, because his own personality generally placed him in these situations.

"I like your tenacity, kid." Bobby smirked, pulling out yet another cigarette, taking a moment before lighting it. He was frightened by the idea that he couldn't trust his partner. That he had to trust some kid to get shit done around the town. He needed to rely on strangers because they were outside the system. What was the mayor doing? Why wasn't he doing anything about this? Bodies disappearing, a case that only existed in limbo. Now they had a chance, they could do right by these victims. Bobby finally had a chance to grasp the serial killer and bring him to justice. Whether it by the hammer of his gun or the hammer of conviction. His personal conviction was indomitable. He would convict whoever did this.

Walking towards the kid, he took a few drafts and let the smoke brush off his body as he moved forward. "Well, that's all fine and dandy, Mandy. But I'm gonna need a lil' clarification on what that mission is. See, you're a mercenary. But you're still standing within the jurisdiction of our law enforcement. I want to slip by the rules, but you're gonna need to play with them to some degree too. In the end, I'm not the only one who needs to trust you." Somber, he took a long draft as he looked to the side. All his work could save the city, or else it'll be wasted time and the city will continue to rot in some way, shape or form. Pathos did great work, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't blame him, being a detective he knew that work was never enough.

"Alright, so, aside from that...I have a few friends Downhill that can help us. I don't want to run this through the TTPD because it leaves a string tied right to our ankles. I can trust them, as long as they get paid and I offer a lil' witness protection once we do what we have to do to get this shit done." Bobby was obviously a chain smoker, so when he had been halfway through his cigarette, he found it upsetting that it had been his last. Pinching at the ash, he extinguished his cigarette with a slight sting to himself, pocketing it until he got more.

Luke gave out a light sigh, put his phone away, then chuckled softly. A hand had reached to the back of his head and he gave it a light scratch. "You're a persistent old man, you know that?" He asked as a form of joking. "My mission is simple. Find out who knows about these string of murders, find the murderer and bring him down. Can't tell you much more than that.... Well, not without you offering a favor or information in return. However, we don't have time to discuss those type of things." The samurai said and had placed a hand on his hips. "I'll play along with the rules here, for now, but if things get too heavy and I feel like my life is in more danger than I'd prefer for it to be, I'm defending myself."

And with that, Luke walked up to the detective, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, opened it, then pushed up a stick for him. Seems like they shared that in common. "Stimulate yourself, because I need you on your toes. I'm Luke, by the way. I don't think I got your name yet." Without much else being said, the young man had opened up the door for conversation.

His next best hope of resolving this case as soon as possible rested with the detective. That meant he had to gain his trust as quickly as possible. Truth be told, all the standing around and talk about abiding the laws, some chick named Mandy, plus a few other swear words being thrown around wasted their time. A trail could grow just as cold as a dead body and even with the pictures Luke had, it was possible the armed men from before were doing everything they could to hide their tracks. Which is why the samurai was grateful when the brown-haired detective had a few people who could help them out. "Alright, well lets get to them as soon as possible. The faster we get this done, the safer the people are."

Smirking, he took a cigarette from Luke and placed it behind his ear with the weight of his thick hair keeping it in place. Nodding towards the boy, he signaled with his head for the boy to follow him. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Don't expect the detective to not ask questions. Now, as for paying a trip to my friends. I have one just a couple blocks away." Bobby put his hands in his coat and just started walking, expecting the mercenary to not be too far behind. The look on his face quickly shifted from joy to a grim mug. He didn't like working with people outside of the law, because he didn't know if he could trust them. But considering all his options, he had no choice but to use whatever resources he could get. A sad compromise, but it would pay off later on.

"Also, don't give too much worry to our trail going cold. There isn't many places to hide cars anymore, and there aren't many of the old-style left. Vintage and junkers are still few and far between downhill. Even the people who live here can hardly afford cars. With the shiny, flying ones zooming around the main city, who needs 'em anyways? So we'll just have to keep an eye out for that car in particular, besides it won't ever leave Downhill." After giving a quick explanation, Bobby retrieved his half-cigarette and lit it up, watching the smoke cascade around his torso and mouth. Bobby knew this place like the back of his hand, so even though he knew it wouldn't be too difficult finding the car, he could run into trouble at any moment's notice. "Oh, uh, don't make any hasty decisions when we get there. I might have to do some....persuasion." He meant he would have to rough up the contact, because they'd likely try running away from Bobby. He was a good law enforcer, as well as a vicious person when he was angry.

They were finally on the move, something which brought Luke a bit more happiness on the inside. The duo had a couple of people to check out and while they traveled through the Downhill, the samurai had kept his eyes and ears open. The usage of his Hyper-Sensitivity would grant him better senses than his partner, or he at least hoped so. "What makes you think this could be limited to just the Downhill?" He asked when it came to the discussion of having the car hidden. "One thing I learned first in life, is to doubt the people who make more money than you. All of these murders could be orchestrated by someone in the main town, using the poor of the Downhill to further their goals. However, it could just be some form of Downhill organized crime gang performing these atrocious acts themselves." His voice came calm and collected, as if he had more information than he was letting on.

He pulled out a cigarette for himself along with a lighter. The stogie was placed into his lips, lit, then a single drag taken from it. Luke exhaled the smoke and sighed out soon after. "Guess what I'm saying, is that even if they're using a vintage car, it's possible that if they're comfortable enough with doing so, then they have the resources to hide or get rid of it, you know?" The mercenary had to play devil's advocate, he had to. It's what made his job easier as an informant. There was always two sides to every story, always. Each side had a wealth of information and with that, came the payment of his job. The more information, the better.

A nod went over to Bobby when instructed to keep himself calm. He was always calm but decided to just go with the flow. One way or the other, they were going to get to the bottom of this.

Chuckling, Bobby nearly forgot the kiddo hadn't been living in Twilight Town for as long as he has, nor did he know the system as well. It was a given, but he still had a point...there were cracks. They could still be in downhill, but they could also have the ability to move around just as quickly or even quicker than the two could search for them. But if Bobby could trap them, then maybe he'll be able to pinpoint a concrete location of whoever was running the show. The mobsters were old-fashioned it seemed, and so they had to have some old-fashioned details such as that to double as cracks in their own system. Taking a draft, he continued down the old cobblestone street. "Well, shit...Look at these roads. They are perfect for murder. Yet, they happen in the main city. You're right there,but I don't think they'd take anything into the main city itself. The old underground might be a railroad for this kind of thing, all it's used for is bulk transfer across the city. There isn't even a working route into downhill. Fucking slum because of it. If we had the same connections the main city did, we'd be better off. All these kids, too."

Shaking his head, Bobby took a longer draft to hide his shaking frustration. "Well, I don't blame Pathos, really. The mayor before didn't do anything for us. But Pathos has actually accomplished a lot in his few years. Still...with all the support from OGFL, why the fuck hasn't Downhill seen any of it? And why are the bodies being brought to Downhill from the main city? They wouldn't take them back in so pointlessly. No, they wouldn't need that car for something like that because the exchange would just be emulated with something that had utility." Bobby scratched his scruff as they neared the apartment complex, dropping the cigarette to the ground as he stomped on it and looked up to the massive tower of windows. The shape had no unique detail aside from its grime and shambling structure, all the rooms were likely the same. "I think...You're right, but the threads don't lead into the main city. Not yet, the opportunity will present itself when the time is right, kiddo." He smirked, letting his head fall to the side and look at Luke.

Prepared to enter, he signaled Luke to take lead. There was an old granny at the bottom of the complex that was for-sure going to throw a can of beans at one of their heads. He was going to break into the cigarette machine like he did as a kid, and Luke was going to get beans to the noggin. Then they'd carry on.

Bobby didn't slack with any of his main points when it came to Luke's theory, of what was really going on in Twilight Town. A thoughtful expression bore itself onto the samurai's face and he tried to figure out the sense of everything going on. Drake Pathos, who in the last twenty years brought exquisite change to the world of Twilight Town's main city, but lacked in any jobs done in the downhill part of it. That didn't sound right. Nothing added up when it came to the man involved with the change of the world. There was something else going on, something else that only a select few people were aware of. Those were the people Luke needed to get into contact with.

His sharpened eyes turned over to Bobby, who allowed him to take the lead. The ebony-haired young man, who skillfully passed as just some common mercenary, took said lead and continued downhill. "So who was the mayor before Drake Pathos? I don't think I was all too smart a baby, when I was born around that time." He said casually and threw his cigarette to the ground, then stepped on it to put it out.

After a moment of walking, his senses picked up on something coming his way. Luke identified it as a cylindrical object, metallic in its make up, containing contents of sorts, likely spoiled rotten, flying through the air. His eyes turned to face it and rather than catch it, he just took the can of beans to the head. "Ouch! Grouchy ass old woman..." There was a low rumble akin to a growl of sorts, which left his lips after that statement. Once more, his attention made its way over to the brown-haired detective, who he had also noticed stole a pack out of a machine. "If you're done being a 13 year-old, mind telling me how much farther we'll be walking?" Luke asked with a light smile.