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Loki notices that Kevin has not been fed. That's really the major sign. Because…if Kai were having some tryst or affair or just forgot to come home, he never would have forgotten /Kevin/. He feeds the dog and kneels on the floor, contemplative, rolling over in his mind any threats that Kai might have mentioned. But of course, WHO would have a beef with /Kai/. He's too precious. So, he gets out a bowl and fills it with water as he contemplates how to find the elf. Heimdal. Strange. Amora.
Kevin hath no food. The bed hath no occupant. And oddly, a pile of fruit in the basket is rotting for lack of attention, the bananas turned and the bread molding a little. These factors may prove less odd than the absence of the local beatnik. Laundry hasn't been an issue. Poor pup, on the other hand, practically drags Loki outside to do his business and then snarfs his food bowl in case there's any dust left.
Otherwise the tenement creaks and groans with the sounds of its neighbours. Nothing much stands out. No note on the fridge, no mail piling up. The place has no residue of magic to it; far from it. Unless Kai or Loki themselves put it down, there's no indication of all astray except for the ljosalf missing.
There is not a lot that Loki can do, all on his own. Sure, a certain amount of magic…can track a person down, but getting Bucky was a fluke. He draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Heimdal. If you can hear me…I seek only the elf known as Hjuki. I fear for him…likely because of me."
|ROLL| Wanda +rolls 1d100 for: 14
Silence greets the man who shattered the rainbow and slaughtered the hegemony of peace enjoyed, at least in name if not in fact. Prayers may be shouted to the sky and the golden-helmed watcher, proud on the edge of the Golden City, does not respond. At least, not for a minute. Or ten. Or fifteen.
If Loki waits for exactly twenty-three, a single thread of the rainbow shimmers in front of him, the dimmest of orange amber hearthglow. Not a chance in Hel the Prince might miss it, but that shot line bounces off the floor and evaporates away, leaving a single rune from the second aett, that traditionally ruled by Heimdall, burned into the ground: hagalaz, the hailstone.
In short, a whack in the skull from the Norns.
Jay has arrived.
Loki is in Kai's apartment, being vexed by Heimdal and mobbed by a neglected Kevin.
RANG RANG
When convenient, Kai's home phone rings.
Loki practically trips over Kevin as he grabs for the phone. Jay is treated not to the buttery voice of that beatnik elf, but…of an elegantly accented, though pretty clearly distressed, "Who is this?"
The demand is clearly met with a ruffled uncertainty and hesitation as a very inarticulate, "Uhhh…" follows the demanding tone. "Ah'm sorry, man. Is this ME 4-1616?" THe angular lean of a southern accent from a young man meets Loki's demand.
"Yes. Kai's place. This is Loki. Who is this? I cannot find him. If you have done anything to him, believe me, I WILL find you, and I will tear you apart from the inside out…" Loki just lays out a few threats, just in case. Pre-emptive threatening.
The very blatant threats do /nothing/ to calm the hesitant voice on the other end of the line as it crackles a bit. Somewhere in the background there are other voices talking very loudly, fading in and then out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, man!" It's audible, the gesture of one putting their hands out. "First of all, Ah'd welcome th' effort, an' second of all, are you blown? Y'ain't makin' any sense."
Kevin whines as he sits on the floor, snuffling around. Those droopy ears and the fact his tail remains curled between his legs does not speak well for the dog's state of canine mind. He sniffs along until finding a spot near a couch where he leans, all but shoves himself against the side, like it might swallow him up.
"I am not BLOWN. That stuff barely affects me anyway. Tell me who this is, or we are finished." Loki demands, watching the poor doggie pine. OH, perhaps he can use…"Perhaps Kevin can find him…he might…maybe."
"Kevin?" The young voice on the other end of the phone latches on to that failiar name. "Kai (Kah) ain't around, an' he left Kev behind?" Clearly a little bit of uncertainty slipping into his tone at that revelation. "Ah'm Kai's friend, Jay. We're workin' on somethin' together, Ah've been callin' t'set up a place to start on it." Pause, gears turning slowly. "Don't flip your wig, man. You check with his work? He's gotta be around."
The dog whines even harder, and shivers. It helps not to have someone right there. Now the food coma has burned off, he is attempting an atomic merge to the inanimate object.
"I have not, but he is always home by now. Always. And he would /not/ leave Kevin behind. I know this. Even if he thought better of…other people, he would never leave this dog. Or go without a note. Something must have happened to him. Jay…hm…ah…do you know where the apartment is? I am thinking of…seeing if Kevin…this worthless thing, can track him. If not, I shall have to use…other means. The more searching for him, the better."
Loki bends down, dragging the phone cord with him, to pet the worthless dog, pondering.
A little weirded out by the insisting tone on the other end of the line as Loki unloads and rambles at him. The defensiveness falls away and the young man goes into damage control mode. His tone calming. "Okay, okay, let's just…breathe fer a spell." The silence on the other end punctuated by a weird clicking sound before the southern voice pipes up again, gentle but focused. "He's gotta be somewhere. Folks don't just disappear." Oh Jay. That's cute. But he's being supportive right now in juxtaposition with the panicked voice on the other end. "No, Ah just know it's in Hell's Kitchen. He keeps tellin' me t'come by but Ah haven't yet. Ah'll call Berts up an' see if he's seen him. Where you about?"
The dog's whimpering does not ease much with the petting. It lessens some, but the shivering will continue unabated. Kevin has had a piss-poor night. If these walls could talk… well, someone can clean up the dried puddles he left behind in his shame later.
"I am in the apartment…the tenements off (he names the street. They aren't great tenements) Call, then. I know not the number. I will not be in the apartment for long before I start searching the streets. Once I find the leash." Loki's voice is a soft, british accent, and though he doesn't explicitly say what he's doing i the apartment, he's just gotta be a roomate.
"Tene—?" Jay murmurs into the reciever, then cuts off. "It won't take me long t'get there. There a fire escape?". oh no. Jay knows about /a/ demanding friend of Kai's. He probably figures he's him. Or his dad. The accent.
"Yes, though…are you going to try to climb through the window? Only James does that. Not that, I suppose…extenuating circumstances…" there's a sigh, "I can leave it unlocked."
Jay sighs, then takes a breath to calm himself. "Ah can use th' door if yer that worried about it, man. It's jus' quicker." Showing some concern with expediency over this issue. Kevin being the red flag for Jay at least. "Find th' leash, Ah'm not far, Sir." If there's nothing more, Jay hangs up to let Loki search for the leash.
Jay has partially disconnected.
Kai isn't that much of a slob to make locating the leash difficult. Putting the leash on the dog is another matter, since it makes for a lump with no legs when Loki goes anywhere further than a few feet, and it huddles in a shaking, trembling show of absolutely not interested in going outside when hooked up. Nature overruled sense, but now it has sense, Kevin barks miserably. The lowest, yelpiest sound of despair.
He knoooows.
Jay has partially disconnected.
Jay has left.
Loki sits down beside the leashed dog and whispers, "Come, Kevin. I need your senses…we can find him…where he went from here. Ah…I know…" He gets up and checks Kai's closet so that he can see what shoes, shirt, pants are missing.
The dog whines. His ears are flat and he doesn't want to shuffle around. But pushed along, he will, or at least start panicking if a window or door is approached.
The usual beatnik array of clothes, black on black, gives an impression that Kai might want to diversify into more patterns. He has some, though! Black pants gone, but one of those ridiculously decorative paisley bits is absent.
Loki snatches out another shirt and holds it down to Kevin. "Keeeevin, can you be a smart dog and find out where he went, hmmm, pooch?" He makes a clicking sound. Kevin seems so traumatized though, that he doesn't look too hopeful that this will work.
|ROLL| Wanda +rolls 1d20 for: 7
At least there's not another puddle. Loki may have to move at Kevin's legs speed, which isn't very good. Pity Kai never thought to get a bloodhound, in retrospect. But he snuffles his nose around the shirt and whuffles. Yes, that's Daddy. Daddy is somewhere. No Daddy in here. Low canine initiative sends him scuttling for the door and pawing at it.
Loki opens the door to walk with poor little Kevin, though there's not a lot of hope here. Still, if the dog can sniff him out ANYWHERE besides here, perhaps it will at least tell how long.
The dog manages to go in halting steps forth from the scene of the tenement. His snuffling connects him to Kai, somewhere, and the old familiar haunts of walkies taken on a regular basis. There will be switchbacks and failings, but eventually he manages to lead Loki out of the building and facing north. The whine echoing through his doggy misery has an echo in another dog, somewhere nearby, repeating it. And then another. And another. Soon enough there are four or five dogs in a chorus of miserable howls, braided together in a long, lengthy chord. They howl to one another, sharing their terror, sharing the mutual despair.
It's not in any sense pleasant. And there are few things in this world likely to cause a pile of unknown dogs to start baying like that, in weird harmonics that sound like a horn. A hunting horn…
Loki stops in his tracks and looks around him, holding the leash for the dog. "hunt. The hunt. But, hunting who. If Kai is gone, then it cannot be for him, though…if it is not for him…then what." He rubs his hand under his chin.
Kevin would apparently rather be buried at the bottom of a coat than listen. The dog is miserable once the baying ceases, and he's back to traumatized. For good reason given what he probably heard, given the call that probably enticed him to run out there into the night. And could not. "Aroo."