Thread: To Catch A Murderer (Athene & Razgriz)

Hmmm. Where to go and how to go about things? Those had been the musings that were racing calmly but still very swiftly through Justin's mind. His head lowered every now and again, looking down at his lit cigarette. He mentally took note of when he needed to tap it and make any excess ash fall off. By the third of so time he did this, Justin had started to get an idea. All of it involved him getting ... well ... not necessarily 'home', per se. But he did need to go back to the location he was truly hiding away at. It wasn't much, but hey, it kept him safe. It was a destination he chose on purpose, something Justin was very proud of it. 'It' referred to an old, unused warehouse that was in walking range of any place he needed a grocery store that was also a department one, gas station for cheap cancer sticks, and was surrounded by a good number of wifi hot spots. ... Of course, he had played a part in creating a good number of those. But it wasn't like anyone needed to know that part. Chuckling softly, a smug smirk spread over his face as he seemed to find the perfect plan to follow through with. All in good time, too. He'd almost finished his cigarette. .... That ... was probably the only blessing when the odd stinging sensation registered in the nape of his neck. The fuck? he muttered, instinctively reaching back to pull out whatever he was feeling. Everything after feeling ... whatever the hell struck him seemed to go in slow motion. Almost like he had suddenly been yanked onto the filming set of a movie or something. Justin felt himself weakly brush the edge of the ... what was that? A knife? No, not quite. But it did have a sharp tip. A ... needle? Kinda but not. It was definitely a much closer guess, though. Whatever it was, his hand barely rubbed against the item before collapsing down onto the ground. He instinctively turned, trying to see who the footsteps belonged to. .... Only to see darkness. Ngh ... How long exactly he had been out was beyond Justin's knowledge. All he knew was it had been likely at least one hour - if not more - before the now pissed off teenager began to stir. Yet despite his temper, he tried to stay at least somewhat calm and in control of his emotions. You're okay, he murmured to himself, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position. Indeed, the very fact he wasn't restrained at all baffled him, as was the fact he was ... alone? The fuck was the point in doing that shit then? he bitterly mumbled under his breath, raising a hand to rub his forehead. Whatever had hit him, it definitely took quite the toll on his head. It felt like he'd had his first hangover and, apparently, he hadn't accepted the liquor as well as he could have. Justin's head was spinning and he felt rather faint. Aside from that, though, he was fine. He stared to slowly blink, thinking for a moment his vision had been blurred with all the EXIT signs he was seeing. By the time the foreign voice rang over the PA, however, he understood he wasn't seeing things. Mr. Hopkins? Can you hear me? ... Who in the fuck are you and how do you know my surname? Regardless of whether he got those answers or not, Justin added a few more. Ones that - hopefully - would have light shed on them. Where the hell am I and what the hell's going on? .... At the very least, that last inquiry would - he hoped - be replied to. Admittedly, Justin was usually the type to get up and leave, flipping off whomever had done this to him. But now that he was seeing all of these doors, he couldn't help but feel ... confused. And ... a bit scared? He didn't understand that last emotion, but he knew one thing. More often than not, his gut instincts were pretty decent. It helped him out, and that was a primary reason his street smarts were as high as they were. So, despite being the type to just get up and walk out, he waited. As much as Justin hated doing so, something told him he would need to listen to this man. Thus, he waited, trying to be as patient as possible for some sort of response.