ArchivedLogs:Bloody Help

Bloody Help
Dramatis Personae Micah, Toma	8 April 2014 Micah delivers a message. Toma has some clues. (Takes place directly after Spence delivers his message.) (Part of the Perfectus TP.)
Location <NYC> Sunrise Apartments - Second Floor – Clinton
The hallway here is as dingy as the lobby below. Threadbare carpeting, peeling wallpaper splotched with stains. The lights are dim and prone to sputtering out at the slightest provocation. Micah has not been having the best of times locating one Toma Lupei, Sunrise Apartments, Second Floor late in the evening. He made it into the building and to said second floor, but going door to door asking after the fellow at /late/ o'clock on a Tuesday night has been received about as well as one might expect. At least the curses have come in an assortment of languages for variety! Micah's hair is mussed, sticking out at angles from under an olive newsboy cap. His clothes are casual to match, navy henley worn over jeans with a faded black hoodie zipped up over the rest for warmth against the night-chill. As he knocks on this most recent door, he doesn't look overly thrilled at the idea of it being answered in kind. At the knock, the door cracks open gently, just enough for a face to look through. It's a rather feminine looking person, long dark brown hair, a pale complexion, eyes seem to have been watering. Toma's voice is a mixture of polite and wariness as he speaks through the door. "Yes, may I help you?" Toma's hand that he is using to hold the door open has both dried and fresh blood on it, him not bothering to wash it off. “Hi, good evenin', apologies for distubin' you this late. I'm not sellin' anythin', I promise. I got an urgent message for a Toma Lupei I been told lives here. Apologies again if you're not him, but if you're not d'you know his apartment number?” Micah spills all of this in about the span of a breath, trying to get it in /before/ the door is closed in his face. There's a bit of silence, before the voice replies. "What do you want with him?" Toma's voice is awfully shaken and wary, as the door cracks open a bit more. Toma's wearing a bloodied gray shirt, a pair of jeans, and is barefoot right now, his arms are also covered a bit in fresh blood. His arm that isn't holding the door is clutching something gently, Toma's eyes intuitive and watching Micah. "Look, I don't mean no harm. I had a message delivered t'me from Nicoleta Lupei, an' it's very important that he get it quickly. Also, I know first aid...d'you need help?" Micah's brows knit as he surveys the assorted blood stains on the young man in front of him. "You..you found Nicoleta? Is she okay?" Toma is cracking open the door all the way, before slanting it again. "Wait, who are you?" Toma isn't worried about the blood, it seems, as he shakes his head. "No. I'm not injured at all, except for a broken nose." Somehow, his face isn't bloodied, though. He's already cleaned that. “I haven't found her, unfortunately. It's complicated. But she's alive. Don't know 'bout okay, t'be truthful.” Micah sighs before delivering the rest of the message, unhappy news yet again. “The whole of her message was really that nobody should come lookin' for her. The folks she got taken by are crazy-dangerous an' they mean t'be killin' folks. So...don't. I know some people who are gonna take care of it, but this is a big-guns kinda situation, right?” He glances down at his hands for a second, deciding how much to say. “My name's Micah. I know folks as've been taken by these people, too. They're bein' searched for, rest assured. But...um...y'should maybe get that seen to so it don't set wrong?” "Micah..." Toma suddenly opens the door all the way. "Micah Holland-Zedner? I knew you seemed familiar. I'm a big fan of you and your husband." Toma nods, a sigh. "She's my sister. They tried to take us not far from here, but I got out. I've been looking for her, but she's always been better at the tracking. I can't tell up from down right now, and I'm not too good with maps. That's what the blood is for." Inside the apartment, the walls are covered in blood, perfectly set handprints, to be exact. "Can't go to hospitals. Will get deported, and I'm from /Romania/. That's a death sentence." Toma thinks for a second. "You have people looking for her? I think I could be of assistance finding her, then." “Yessir, that's me,” Micah replies with a nod, blushing faintly at the rest. “Um...didn't know there were...fans. But, thanks, I s'pose. Y'could go t'the Mendel Clinic...at least when they open in the mornin'. They're good 'bout not askin' too many questions.” He nods at the question of searching. “Yes. We're doin' everythin' we can t'locate the folks as been took. It ain't a good idea for you t'go lookin', though. She said for y'not to. These fellas'll take care of it. Um...but. What's blood got t'do with maps?” Toma nods. "Will do." When Micah asks about maps, Toma waves a hand to invite him in. "Me and my sister are hemokinetics. We also kind of share a..blood bond. As long as I'm in contact with blood, or if she is, we can tell how far away, by feet, and in what direction, each other is. If you have a phone with some sort of mapping app, I could possibly give you a general area. And then, if you can get her out..then I don't need to go. I want to, but I'll get myself killed." Toma is then putting his hand on a blood stain inside. "She's alive, I can tell that much so far." "Okay..." Micah says to the beginning of the explanation, mostly just listening as he steps inside. "That's /right/ handy. Um. Sure, let me get a thing opened on m'phone." He slides a phone out of his jeans pocket, running a finger along its screen several times before turning it out for Toma to see a tiny map of the city. "S'that work?" Though Micah can't see it, inside Toma's brain, there's little ticks going on, some sort of mental way to show him how far away Nicoleta is. "Let's see. Alright. She's..." Toma proceeds to spout out feet and direction from where he is facing, giving a general area around North Harlem for Micah's map. "That's how far away she is. Can the map track it? Thank you so much, please find her." "I can search a distance an' direction, sure. An'...we got some addresses t'check out already. Hopefully one of 'em will be close to where that shows." Micah futzes with the map app a bit before coming back with, "North Harlem. Okay. I'll get this information t'the others so they can act on it as soon as possible. Prob'ly t'morrow once they can...set up the best plan of attack an' not be goin' into someone else's space in the middle of the night. You're more'n welcome, honey. Are you sure y'don't wanna do anythin' else 'bout your nose? At least tell me you'll try goin' t'the Clinic in the mornin'." "I'll go to the clinic, I guess. Thank you so much. Wish I could pay you back for this, but..got nothing. I owe you one, though." Toma then waits for Micah to leave, before gently closing the door to clean up. “Y'don't owe me nothin', sugar. Best I could see of this is your sister, an' our friends, back safe.” Micah slides his phone back into his pocket, withdrawing a business card to hand to Toma in its place. “Give me a call if y'need anythin', okay? We'll do what we can.” With this assurance, he heads back out to another long drive.