[8.1] Streetlight Manifesto: King For A Day, Part 2

[Warudo]

Abel stared at Isabella as she explained her plan, chewing on it as she explained it. It was direct enough for his tastes, so he didn't mind it in the slightest. Plus they was she phrased it resonated with him on JUST the right level. "Sounds like a good time to me. I know where Betty is being kept so I'll lead the way. But before that, I want to see how you knock a guard out with a bottle cap." He said, looking at the pocket Isabella kept the thing, though it may look a bit more compromising to Isabella.

"I'll just sit here while you do it, and I guess jump on the guard or something if your idea doesn't work." He informed her. After all, those guards were pretty beefy. Even if she could knock a person out with a bottle cap, there was no guarantee it would work on one of those beefy guards. But one thing Abel did know would work on them was his fists, applied in large amounts with plenty of force and prejudice.

[hawaii117]

"It's the same way I lodged a scalpel in your back last week, a little family secret called The Spin. And good thing that you know where she is." The officer then placed the bottle cap in her palm, as she wrapped her hands around the bars of her cell. "So just sit there and look pretty for right now." 

Alright... Just gotta... Gotta lie. Not that hard. It'll be super easy... Hell, I could just use that little voice... It shouldn't be too terrible. Isabella thought while her grip tightened around the bars. The small voice that wants to work for Marty then began to speak in her head once more. Finally before she vocalized it, in a pitiful cry towards the closest guard. 

"I-I Can't handle it anymore! Please! Please! Just let me out of here.... I'll work for Marty!" While the woman spoke her legs tensed, her eyes lowered down to the ground, and she began bitting her lip. Internally she was effectively bullying that voice into speaking for her, barely able to keep the facade of the lie up. 

[dad]

Monks and Adeline left, well aware that Marty was scheming something. However, there wasn't much to do for them besides confronting him about it, which would either end with the traitor lying through their teeth or simply erasing them on the spot. Leaving to investigate Dolce's house again was still a bad option, but it was the only one they could take. The detectives left, unaware that chaos would soon ensue inside of the station after their departure.



Dolce's house appeared relatively tranquil from a distance. It had been barely a week since Dolce had disappeared after all, so his humble abode still looked neat and tidy. The two remembered how extravagant Marty's house had looked, so it was a bit odd that the chief of all people would live without even a hint of luxury. Monks and Adeline quickly entered the building, Monks having received the keys to Dolce's house a few days ago by Marty. They walked past the shoe cabinet and came across the living room: Just a sofa, a carpet, a table and a TV. All resting on a wooden floor. Nothing to see here really, despite Monks having searched countless times for hidden doors or bunkers after seeing Marty's house. However, he also had Adeline here for this investigation. Perhaps her ability could help her gather more clues about the living room that he could have missed?

Next to the living room was the entrance to the kitchen. It was as standard as it came, reminding Monks of his own kitchen, save for the not broken fridge. That being said, a stench was quickly starting to arise from the room. Some food had probably expired by now due to the house's owner being missing. Monks wondered if he even wanted to investigate that room. Maybe someone who could somewhat enjoy the stench, such as Ayida, would be much better suited.

The only other room left in Dolce's house was the bedroom which was also the most spacious room of the house. It didn't only include a bed and a desk, but a large bookcase too that had been filled with several books. Monks wasn't really an intellectual or one that would spend his daily hours reading, but Dolce seemed like that kind of person. Their office was constantly shrouded in reports and fliers after all. However, maybe some clues resided in the books that Dolce had. This seemed like something that Monks himself should investigate, since he had an eye to detail when it came to tracking down clues...And finding ideal targets through a scope.

---

Meanwhile, Isabella and Abel commenced their plan. No-one suspected that Abel was still capable of fighting in that sorry state, plus it seemed as if the guards were fine with letting ex-cops join their ranks. The only problem was that Isabella was a Stand user, so they might have suspected that she was acting. However, it was a risk worth taking. Isabella started to tune in with the part of her that desperately wanted to be let out, the part willing to work with Marty if it meant not starving. Of course, her cries quickly attracted the attention of the guards, but she was suddenly more preoccupied with the voice itself. It was hard to keep up the act, plus the act was starting to turn into her actual thoughts. What were the actual chances of the escape succeeding? Very slim. Maybe she should just tell the guards that Abel planned on backstabbing Marty, let the man rot in jail while she took his spot instead. That could work...No! That was far too underhanded for her to do. Why was her mind suddenly pondering such strange plans?

The guard stood silently in front of Isabella and Abel. He looked confused, Isabella then realizing that he had opened the gate ages ago. He was just waiting for her to get out. Damn, keeping up that act must have been more draining than she had thought, especially since she was malnourished. Good thing the guard was too dumb to notice, instead patiently waiting for Isabella and Abel to commence their plan.

---

The guard seemed to be quite annoyed at Kyu's behavior. They started bonking the cell with a baton, creating a loud and painful noise that greatly irritated Kyu's ears. "No bathroom! If you want to pee, pee there." The guard growled, pointing at a corner of the cell where a bucket was. So that's how prisoners peed? Marty probably didn't want to let anyone do anything funny in the bathrooms, such as leaving messages or items for others in order to aid in escape attempts. The guard then left, thankfully not even glancing at the other prisoner's cell. Not like it mattered either way since the message was long gone. The prisoner sighed with relief, wiping sweat off their brow as they gave Kyu a thumbs up. They then grabbed the tomato sauce once again and wrote a final message.

THATS ALL I KNO

So, that was all the info Kyu was going to get from them? Well, they had been a great help regardless, having pinpointed a Stand user for him already, but it seemed as if Kyu would still have to escape the hard way. He wondered if busting out with his Stand was even a good idea, since the guards seemed tough and came in large numbers. He would have to do it stealthily. After he peed in the bucket and stared at the trashy tomato sauce sprawled all over the floor. Due to how poor and aged the sauce was...It looked disturbingly close to blood. Wait a second...

---

Michelle pondered on the true nature of her 'saviors'. She wanted to ask them so many questions...But she didn't speak skunk, so that was out of the question. Either way, the sewer seemed to be a good hiding spot for her now. She somehow doubted that Marty would come all the way here just for her, so that meant that she was safe for now, right? Some of the skunks then left before swiftly returning with various oranges and apples. They were offering her food now? Well, that was nice, except for the fact that the food stank like shit. The combination of the sewer aroma and skunk odor was enough to make even the best of foods smell like garbage. Michelle was definitely hungry, but she wondered if she would even survive a bite of those.

"Kii kii kii! (T-The exit is over there by the way...)" Feelgood intervened, pointing at some sort of ladder before quickly stopping. "Kii kii! (No, wait! You're in no state to leave right now anyways. Just rest! Rest, rest, rest!)"

---

It was a tough morning for Grant. His palms were sweating and his knees were shaking. He drank his morning coffee, although it did almost nothing to soothe his nerves. It had been a rough week, with him getting his ass kicked by Marty and then waking up in a flaming bunker with burning shoes. Thank God he didn't get any serious burns and managed to get out of that place safely. Even worse was the fact that all of his other friends had apparently disappeared. Had Marty killed them? Had they died in the fire? It was tragic, but Grant was focused on something else....Why did Marty leave him there? He didn't kill him nor capture him. He just left him there. Why? Grant then suddenly remembered something...

"I've lost interest in you."

Those words hurt him greatly. Sure, they were coming from an overpowered man child, but to be insulted and defeated in such a way really got his blood boiling. However, Marty and the rest were mere ants compared to the gigantic wasp of a problem that Grant was about to face: It was time to meet up with his editor and show him portions of his manuscript...The most dreaded day for a writer! Especially considering that his editor was a notorious and eccentric individual that had connections to several writers' guilds, associations and publishers. He was also behind the success of numerous famous writers, which was why Grant had decided to partner up with them. However, they were quite hard to please and Grant started wondering whether or not he made the right choice...

He arrived to his editor's house quite early, trembling outside as he stared at his partner's amazing villa. It was pure white and surrounded by an amazing garden: The most famous building that resided in the richest part of Fallbrook. Numerous tourists had taken pictures there and it was known as the only other noticeable landmark that wasn't just Mothman paraphernalia. Grant awaited outside, two very attractive women suddenly approaching him and opening up the gate. They smiled at him and nodded. "Good morning, Mr. Bennett. Our master will be able to see you soon." They said in a friendly tone. Too friendly. Grant wondered who they were before seeing their uniforms: Bodyguards! Female bodyguards were pretty much unheard of, but Grant didn't feel like testing their prowess right now. 



He was soon led to his editor's office. Grant shivered as he saw the 'Writers' God' right in front of him. A man just a year younger than him. Despite that, they were way more attractive, plus they wore an elegant sweater and a pair of gray pants. They also had a pair of red designer glasses that they constantly adjusted whenever staring someone down. Indeed, they quickly adjusted them upon seeing Grant, giving him a cold and scary glare.

"Your manuscript, please." Grant's editor said, an ominous aura surrounding the room as they extended their arm towards Grant, awaiting for the writer to comply. Of course Grant gave in, delivering his script as his editor adjusted their glasses yet again and took a quick glance at the thing. "Hmmm..." The muttered, sipping down a cup of coffee as the atmosphere got more and more tense. Grant's heart then stopped as he received a menacing stare from his '''partner'''. 

"Several edits are needed." They declared, their eyes glowing red with intensity as Grant almost pissed themselves while their editor grabbed a batch of corrector ink and a brush. "Here..." They started lightly spreading some white ink around Grant's manuscript, erasing some unneeded words. "And here..." They spat, suddenly erasing more than just words. Entire paragraphs worth of content were being erased! The precious inner thoughts of the protagonist...Completely gone! "And here, here, here!" The editor wasn't editing. He was cutting. All of Grant's hard work was disappearing in the blink of an eye, as if his editor was a black hole that was sucking up everything with his brush and turning it white!

"It is complete." The editor then said, raising up the manuscript that now looked more like a blank page than anything else. The only words left on the page was a lone "The day was," and that was it! Was his editor telling him to rewrite the entire thing?! "Foolishness, Grant. Foolishness." The editor said, shaking their head as they tossed the manuscript in the garbage can. "You once came at me with promise, albeit shoddy and poorly executed promise. Your execution was lacking. Your writing was akin to that of a middle-schooler...But your concepts were solid. However, instead of improving...You deliver me this?!" His editor slammed the desk. "...I think there's no use in continuing our partnership. You clearly do not have what it takes to be a writer." They said, snapping their fingers as the two female bodyguards from earlier emerged, smiles on their faces as they each grabbed one of Grant's arms.

"We'll be escorting you outside, Mr. Bennett." They said with a deceptively friendly smile as they started dragging him away. They were strong! Far stronger than Grant had imagined and truly worthy of the title of bodyguard.

"Goodbye, Mr. Bennett. I've completely lost interest in you." Grant's editor said, crossing their arms as they watched as their guards threw Grant outside of the window. Grant landed back in the garden, with no other option but to go back home. His writing career was over...

No! Was he going to let it end like this? He was willing to lose to Marty. He was willing to lose to all of his friends. Hell, he was even willing to keep losing in everything, but writing was his passion. Was he really going to let some stuck up editor put him down like that? No, that wasn't the way of the Grant! He hadn't invented white rap just to get dragged down to this pit! It was up to Grant to regain his lost honor....By writing something that would blow his editor's mind. And what better way of searching for inspiration than by defeating Marty and usurping his reign? Fighting a man with unlimited Stand abilities would have definitely increased his creativity. This plan was flawless, to defeat both Marty and his editor in one move!

[hawaii117]

Isabella just had to keep the act up. That's all, but the problem was that the small voice which wanted to escape and join Marty was gaining a bit more influence within her head. She could keep it back, right? Her pride wouldn't let her be completely over taken... At least she thought. Abel should be left in here for wanting to betray Marty... No what was she thinking. They were going to break out and cause a lot of problems for Marty. Isabela get a hold of yourself. She resovled ceasing her pathetic crying as she finally noticed the guard standing there. 

It was go time. The officer released her grip on the jail bars and moved towards the guard. 

Then in one fluent motion, she executed her plan. An armored gauntlet appeared around her hand holding the bottle cap, a bright blue glow coming from the stand as she aimed at the guard. Electricity sparking from her gauntlet while spinning the bottle cap at a high rate, then with a quiet zap she fired the projectile. Aiming it directly for the face of the unsuspecting guard using the full force of the super spin. 

[Warudo]

For a second, Abel was worried that Isabella was actually breaking or something. She sat there on her knees for far longer than he thought she would, to the point that even the guard seemed to think it was awkward. Abel was starting to get twitchy, but thankfully Isabella finally sprang into action, firing her bottle cap at the guard's face like a bullet. That was impressive, and definitely exceeded the force his stand could flick coins with. He might have to ask about that later. But for now, Abel was going to assist in a way that was a bit less subtle than Isabella's.

The policewoman would feel a strange pressure and hear the creaking of metal behind her. What the hell could that be? The answer came flying over her head at the guard. It was their bed, frame and mattress and everything, its trajectory marking its target as the chest of the guard. Abel stood behind her, panting as his stands arms covered his. Throwing that bed took more out of him than he thought it would. Perhaps that beating left him worse off than he thought.

[RockyRaccoon]

Kyu’s gambit worked, thankfully and he was able to buy just enough time for his partner to scribble away any evidence of their conversation and he nodded back to his ally with an approving nod before turning towards the area where he was told the stand user was. ’The guards sure are abundant and they definitely won’t be easy to deal with but first I gotta talk to that stand user! Gotta be stealthy with this though…’ He contemplated for a bit before grabbing the tomato sauce and sprawling it in the corner of his mouth. He knew that him pretending to be sick could work well for him considering his next plan so he did the one thing he could think of. He played dead. "GAH!" He once again pretended to gag for a little while before falling to the ground pretending to be dead. He would then have to wait for the guard to show up where he would have the chance to escape.

[BlacKnightZero]

"How could this happen!?" Grant sat at his desk, in agony over what transpired during the meeting with his editor. He had been in front of the typewriter for a while, trying to come up with some way to improve his manuscript and make the next draft more presentable. "I can't believe it! After all the work I've done, it's all been rendered pointless..."

Him and his editor have never really seen eye-to-eye, but he was at least somewhat reasonable when they met before. Perhaps there really was something wrong with the first draft of Grant's novel.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Ever since the traitor took action, Grant had been in a slump. Unable to focus in the investigation because of his novel, and unable to focus on his novel because of the investigation. He was trapped between two things that were important to him, and under-performed in both of them because of his lingering thoughts about the traitor.

That's right, those words the editor said to him during the meeting made Grant realize... "It's all that bastard Marty's fault!" He declared, standing up and getting out of his chair. Marty had done some terrible things before, but now Grant was really angry. He failed to save his comrades in the house, and now he was failing himself as an author. There was no way he would just wallow and let it go after this. He was more frustrated than he had ever been, and he had to take action!

The first step to redeeming himself was to save the others that Marty had locked up in the police station. Grant was through being cowardly, but he still couldn't fight alone. He left his apartment to head downtown, where the station was.

[ToledoJones]

After a mostly quiet car ride (save for some lamenting animals) they arrived at Dolce's. It was as Monks remembered it, nothing had really changed, nothing to suggest Dolce had been home since then. Monks frowned: one thing was a different. The kitchen had begun to stink, some trash or food had gone bad. He didn't want to deal with that, but he was sure the scent would attract Ayida. If there was anything in the kitchen (other than the rotting food) hopefully she'd find it.

"I already searched the place once." Monks repeated to Adeline, assuming she knew that already. "But a fresh look can be helpful. Sometimes in a case it's easier if you come back to it after a few days." Monks took a quick look around the apartment. "A new set of eyes can't hurt either." He shrugged and began looking through the books in Dolce's bookcase, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Ayida pulled her two unwilling teammates into the kitchen to investigate that intriguing smell - it was a rare oppurtunity where Monks might truna blind eye to her eating out of the trash.

[killeroftheminge]

"I'll check the living room," Ade says, placing a hand on the wall, closing her eyes to try and speed up the process of syncing up. A moment later, two large hands emerged, pulling her inside and giving her that familiar full range of sight. The entire living room lay bare to her now, with not a nook or cranny going unnoticed. Her desire to fight back against Marty helped to keep the overbearing guilt from last week off of her shoulders, giving her the chance to focus entirely on the layout of the home. 

Monks said he checked this place last week, but he couldn't see the way she could. Every space held a different vantage point for her to explore, Ade studying each and every window presented to her. Each one offered a different perspective, and each one had the potential to reveal something intriguing. Her mind goes to the rug, one of Lady Marmalade's arms reaching up and pulling it away. A trap door? That might be too obvious, but there had to be something...

[dad]

"AUGH!" The guard grunted, receiving an incredibly speedy cap right to his forehead. It thrashed part of his skin, but his skull was sturdier than Isabella had thought. Eventually the rotation stopped, causing the cap to just fall off the man's head as they snorted at the woman. They bore their fangs, grinding their teeth together as they tapped their forehead and realized that a hole was now located there. The guard roared, ready to deliver a crushing punch to Isabella's face before Abel intervened and tossed a bed right at the villain. The guard was obviously knocked back and stunned, but Abel had made a slight error in not removing the mattress beforehand. Because of this, the blow wasn't as severe as it could have been. The guard quickly tossed the bed away as if it were nothing, standing up as they stared at Abel and Isabella with contempt.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" They growled, slamming their fists on their chest like a prehistoric warrior as they suddenly clenched the iron bars of a cell behind them. They pulled as the veins on their arms grew more pronounced before the bar snapped. They did the same with another bar, now having two iron bars at their disposal to use as weapons. The guard then slammed the bars against each other, causing a loud noise that probably alerted everyone else in the jail room. Other guards would be coming soon. Since they had succeeded in successfully alerting everyone, the man smirked as they waved at the wannabe escapees with their bars, gesturing for them to come at him. For a bunch of burly and arrogant guards, they didn't really talk much. Was it perhaps a side effect of Merry's Stand gaining control over them or were they all just mute for some reason?

---

Kyu was lying on the floor with 'blood' sprawled all around him. The other prisoner was confused at first, before realizing Kyu's tactic. He attempted to assist him, slamming his cell in order to attract the attention of a guard. Indeed, a burly man would soon arrive. They snarled at the prisoner at first, finding the noise irritating before they noticed the downed Kyu. The guard then panicked, opening Kyu's cell and about to check if the Asian was truly dead or not. Kyu had the advantage now, but there was also another issue: He had to defeat the guard in one blow. If his fight took too long, the noise would definitely attract other guards. He couldn't possibly fight so many people at once. Striking at the guard's weak point and silencing them before things got chaotic was his only chance at a stealthy escape.

Meanwhile, he also heard some loud noise in the distance. Something akin to metal banging on metal. It was strange, but not something worth investigating right now.

---

Grant quickly approached the police station knowing that it was now under Marty's control. From the info he gathered, a large amount of cops and Stand users were now imprisoned there. He was lucky that Marty had lost interest in them, otherwise it was very probable that he would have been captured by one of his many fanatics. However, Marty had greatly underestimated Grant. Sure, infiltrating a prison with great security was an immense task for even the most talented of escape artists, but not for Grant. After all, he was a writer! All he needed to do was pretend to be the main character in a novel. A main character with a special ability that was tasked to overcome an 'impossible' obstacle...This was so clichèd it almost hurt Grant's pride. It was obvious the main character would succeed!

After all, Stranger In Paradise allowed him to easily disguise himself as a cultist. He could enter the police station unnoticed because of that, but then came another problem: Did Marty prepare himself for this sort of strategy? Was there some password that every cultist had to remember in order to gain access to the building? Hell, maybe they all had a unique mark or tattoo on them to prove that they were genuine cultists? Grant thought that entering the jail would be easy at first, but now things were getting more complicated. Was a disguise still worth trying or was there another way of entering the station?

---

Monks sifted through various books in Dolce's bedroom. Large bookcases always gave Monks the idea of two types of people: Those who were actually well-read and enjoyed reading or those who were arrogant and simply placed bookcases around in order to seem smart. He wondered what kind of person Dolce was, but he leaned towards the former a bit. They always seemed reliable, despite not having a Stand and despite only giving them briefings. Perhaps Monks even envied them since they did so much without a Stand while his own exploits were mediocre in comparison. Monks started thinking that perhaps someone more valuable should have been a mole. Someone like Kyu or Grant. Sure, they weren't what he would call 'reliable', but the fact that they had special abilities already put them ahead of him in his opinion. What could Monks even do against Marty? Information and tactics could never beat such a powerhouse. Adeline had already lost once against Marty, plus she had lost one of her reasons to fight with Michelle's death. Abel was instead starving in jail and he too lost against Marty once. It seemed as if being moles was useless: The trio had become the mask instead, often helping Marty while barely obtaining any ideas on how to kill the bastard.

However, these clouded thoughts and hopeless scenarios couldn't distract Monks from what was actually important. It was subtle and almost unnoticeable, but Monks could still easily see it. His detective intuition had peaked, causing him to notice hypocrisy and discrepancies in a few seconds. He was currently reading a book about Mothman and supernatural creatures in Fallbrook. The same book Dolce had on him at all times. However, this was different: Monks compared the book he had in his pocket, which belonged to Dolce, to the book in Dolce's library. The two had identical covers, font and text size, but the content was very different. There were mentions of the flash of light in Dolce's book along with a prophecy. However, the book in the library didn't mention that. It instead just gave a general description on Mothman, revealing that he usually could only be seen in times of great tragedy. However, his appearance usually caused the tragedy to subside, instead replaced with hope and miracles before culminating with his disappearance. There was nothing of the sort in Dolce's book. 

One of the books was a fake?!

---

Ayida sniffed around the trash first, since she was quite hungry. She sloppily ate down a discarded burger, an almost finished yogurt and half a donut. Geez, Dolce sure loved throwing food for some reason. Either he was spoiled or he had some sort of eating disorder. Either way, Ayida's bliss wouldn't last for long since Vicar started openly mocking the dog. "Scree scree squeak! (Puh, repulsive! A mutt is merely a lesser wolf, but to see a beast act in such an undignified state...It hurts my very soul!)" He said, rolling around with his flabby fat as he tried to pull Ayida away from the trash.

"Meow meow miao! (Wow, this kitchen stinks more than my furballs! And this house belonged to your boss? Ha! A real mobster wouldn't live in such a trashy place!)" KitKat proudly chuckled, standing upright in order to prove his superiority before slipping on a banana peel that Ayida had accidentally left around while sifting through the trash. "Miao! (Ah! Bitch!)" KitKat swiftly stood back up, glaring at the banana as his claws emerged. "Meow meow nyaa! (You picking a fight with me, you bastard?!)" He growled before furiously assaulting the banana peel, 'fighting' it as Ayida and Vicar found the situation quite humorous.

However, the stench that Ayida had felt didn't only come from the trash. It came from the fridge and several other cabinets as well. Monks did tell her to investigate, so it was best for her to actually get something done, lest Monks refuse to buy her those new dog cookies that came out recently. Ayida opened the fridge, curious on what rotting pile of food she would find inside of it before stepping back in horror. It was the worst thing she had ever tasted in her life: Medicine! Crates and boxes filled with pills, tubes, liquids and syringes were lying inside of the fridge. She didn't know what they were for, but what she did know was that the pills Monks had to give her a few years back were absolutely horrible. However, she still wondered how a human could eat so many pills in one day, if Dolce even needed these pills in the first place, however.

"Scree scree squeak! (Behold, you ruffians!)" Vicar then emerged, Ayida turning around and noticed that the raccoon had opened a nearby cabinet without her permission. Was it hungry? Most interesting was what it brought back from said cabinet, however: A circlet of garlic along with a stake and a talisman. "Scree scree squeak! (This talisman is imbued with arcane energies that are beyond my comprehension! You'd best tread lightly around this stake too. The blood on it is fresh and it has carved through the souls of hundred bloodsuckers. This holy circlet also prevents said fiends from approaching you, its fragrance repelling even the most powerful of vampiric lords. Keheheheh! With this, I, the great Vicar Evilroot, am able to conquer the continent of vampires! Fear my wrath, Transylvania!)" Vicar was about to leave, determined to conquer vampire land before being stopped by Ayida's chain. Still he had found a useful piece of evidence. Why would Dolce store such obvious and superstitious anti-vampire items in his kitchen? Did he think Dracula was best pals with Mothman or something?

---

Adeline carefully observed the living room through Lady Marmalade's eyes. Unfortunately, she couldn't really see anything of relevance for now. The noise coming from the kitchen wasn't helping either, with the fat raccoon and cat being some of the noisiest animals she had ever met. However, as she retreated further in the floor to avoid listening to their antics, she stumbled upon a pretty important clue. Perhaps it was due to her color world, but she could see faint traces of red on the green carpet in the living room. Very vivid red, almost looking like...blood. She took off the rug. Upon looking on the floor underneath the carpet, specifically through the cracks, she could see a small red stain. Dried blood for sure. However, it was a very minor clue. It was slightly smaller than a droplet of blood, meaning that it could have been caused by anything. Perhaps Dolce just cut himself while he was cooking and headed out of the kitchen in search of a bandage? That could easily explain the blood being there. However, after living in a town with so many strange creatures and 'impossible' events happening simultaneously, Adeline started doubting the normal and logical theory. She instead started thinking of the more strange and complex theories...Oh god, had the town turned her into a madman already?

That said, there weren't any trap doors in the living room. That was a bit unsatisfying, especially since it would have made things much easier for her. Why couldn't people just stash all of the important clues in one easily accessible cabinet? It would make the job much more easier for her. Wait, she remembered something: She wasn't investigating a villain. She was investigating Dolce, a man who could technically be considered a boss! Should she really expect strange hiding spots such as trap doors and such from a man that she somewhat respected? Perhaps Dolce's secrets were hidden in more simple locations. He didn't have a Stand after all, he lacked the eccentricity of thinking outside the box like Marty too. Where would Adeline hide a rare jewel or an important letter? A cabinet? Under a bed or sofa? She had checked the sofa, TV and cabinets with her Stand, but nothing had popped out. Maybe just examining them 'normally' could somewhat help.

[ToledoJones]

Monks had often felt inadequate, especially since he had discovered the paranormal. This past week had been the worst of it: facing Marty was almost too much for him to bare. But he owed it to those who were stronger than him, he had to keep trying. Maybe his own weakness was what allowed Marty to keep him around, but Monks was going to make sure Marty regretted that, or try to at the very least.

So, he didn't give up. He searched the potentially worthless bookshelf, it was his last resort. He no longer new where to look. "Shit..." Monks muttered as he read the same few passages again and again, lost in other thoughts. "I'm getting no where - this is the same bo-" Monks stopped and pulled Dolce's copy from his pocket. No! It wasn't exactly the same - there were differences! Someone had edited these books. He wasn't sure which entry was more accurate yet, but he did know Dolce's copy had something that lined up with recent events: the great flash of light from asylum. "It had been so long." But it hadn't, it just felt like ages ago with all that happened. This suggested that Dolce's book may be more accurate? Either way he had to read more, see what else the books differed on.

Ayida, feeling full and content, moved on, snickering at the antics of Vicar and Kitkat. A trash panda pretending to find trash disgusting? What a phony. Kitkat, on the other hand, was just and idiot. "Bark, ru- (You two are really pathe-)" Ayida recoiled at the stench coming fro the fridge. It wasn't natural rot, it was the pure, unnatural smell of medicine. She backed away, unhappy.

Vicar's discovery just confused Ayida even further, but at least the smell of the garlic was more pleasant. Ayida narrowed her eyes at the coon. "Bark bark ruff." (Just what are you doing? You think a vampire would want your nasty blood? You're safe, trust me. I wouldn't even eat you." She shook her head, wondering what else was in this kitchen. Generally these were places for food, yet everything here seemed out of place. She pushed past Vicar and looked deeper in the cabinets.

[RockyRaccoon]

Kyu now had the opportunity to enact his plan fully as he came in close contact with the burly guard but he knew he only had one strike available to him, and not wanting to risk any chances he summoned Sukiyaki’s fists over his own before he quickly jabbed at the man’s throat and following it with a powerful right hook using his stand’s power to strengthen his blows in order to ensure a knock-out. He thought for a moment about investigating that metallic banging sound he heard earlier but thinking that meeting up with the others was far more important he quickly turned his attention towards the area that his ally told him the stand user was in. ’The only important thing is to find the others and find out what the hell is going on! He said the stand user was to the right so I’ve gotta get there first!’ He pondered on what could possibly be in store for him but either way he needed answers and he needed them fast. If he were successful in knocking out the guard he would continue his plan by taking the guard's keys and locking him inside his own cell before he would then make his way to the stand user as quietly as he can.

[hawaii117]

That was it, the cap was going to get lodged within the guards brain. Or at least Isabella thought so. Until the bottle cap dropped. Fuck... he has a thick skull. Reflexively AEH completely covered her body as the guard went to throw a punch towards her. "Alright then fucker. I'll just-" Then from behind her Abel tossed the fucking bed, frame and everything right into the guard.

Standing up, she turned towards the male completely ignoring the still standing guard. Obviously pissed off that he just did that, and to show Isabella slapped Abel. Not hard enough to hurt enough to get her point across. "The hell did you do that for? That'll alert guards immediately, and now that fuck face can alert the other guards." Just as she spoke loud banging came from behind her, forcing the officer to turn around and bring her attention back at the guard. As she did so Isabella also grabbed the empty coke bottle and broke it. 

"WelL.. If You aren't too tuckered out from that. I'll take him from the left you take him from the right." As soon as she spoke, Isabella dashed forwards. Moving at the guard from his left side. She was aiming to stab him in the side, multiple times. 

[Warudo]

Abel couldn't help but smirk as the bed crashed against the guard, throwing him back after Isabella's failed attempt at killing him. It didn't seem to sit well with Isabella though, as the first thing she did after his success was do a heel-turn and smack him across the face relatively gently. Abel flinched and raised a hand to his face, looking offended as he stared at Isabella, now also ignoring the guard. "The fuck?" Was what he managed to get off before Isabella assaulted him by basically telling him what he did was incredibly stupid.

Thankfully for both of them, they were distracted by the guard doing just as she said before Abel could respond in a properly vulgar manner. Abel looked over Isabella's shoulder at the guard, the bulky man banging his bars together like an ape. He had the right idea, but it was still terribly stupid looking. Isabella pitched her idea and surprisingly, Abel agreed almost instantly. "Sounds good to me, got all the steam in the world." Perhaps a week of being a prison bitch made him more sociable?

While the cop lady dashed to his left, aiming to shank the guard with her newly acquired weapon, Abel mirrored her and dashed to the guard's right. However, he didn't go for an attack like he normally would, instead he used his stand in the more orthodox manner. Within his small range, Demon Days appeared behind the guard, blood lust radiating from it as it went for a supportive grapple. It attempted to hook its arms under the guard's and hold its hands against the back of his neck. The stand may have been stronger and faster than the guard, but Abel was still in a weakened state, so god only knew if his stand could manage to ensure the success of Isabella's assault.

[killeroftheminge]

The small drop of blood had been enough to intrigue her, Adeline rising back up from the floor to get a better look. Well...honestly, it was a little inconclusive. Sure, it could be a clue, but it could also just be Dolce pricking his finger one night. It seemed rather old too, so it'd be hard to tell when exactly it took place. At any rate, Lady Marmalade was getting her nowhere. Of course, like the narrator said, her Stand would only really be valuable if Dolce had been thinking outside of the box. Maybe examining things from a normal perspective might offer something a bit more conclusive. 

The first thing she set on doing was taking a closer look at the TV. If she were trying to keep something hidden, it might be worth it to hide in plain view. Maybe behind the screen or something, the woman setting to work by having her fingers dig into the outer frame of the set. Unfortunately, it seems like it'd be far too tough to remove this way, so she figured a little outside help would be in order. She just hopes Dolce doesn't mind a busted Television, she knows they're hard to come by. 

With a strike, Lady Marmalade manages to punch a hole through the glass exterior, sparks flying as she sent her stand to take a look inside. No way was she risking getting shocked.