Kate covers the meal, and the three of you leave the "Old Fashioned" Burger Joint.

As you're walking out, Cici briefly pauses to watch the birds hanging out around the restaurant.

"Ravens?," you ask.

"Crows," answers Cici with a big smile. "You can tell 'cause of the tails--raven tails have more of a triangle shape. Oh, and there's five birds there--ravens like to travel in pairs. The sound they make is different, too, but that's tougher to notice."

Kate stuffs her hands in her pockets. "Hmph. Bebe's into birds, too."

"They're cute!," says Cici. "And they can go wherever they want, and all they gotta worry about is bird stuff. Crows can remember faces for years... they even hold grudges, and use little bird tools. Crows are neat!"

Huh.

You wave at the crows before you all turn and head for the bus stop.

"Hey," you greet the bus. "You wouldn't know where Franklin is, would you?"

"He rode this morning," the bus replies. "I dropped him off at Maria's, but I haven't seen him since."

"We should swing by Maria's on the way to the junkyard," you suggest. "She knows Franklin--she might know where to find him."

"That's gonna be awkward," Kate comments with a smirk. "Hope she doesn't think it was me that tried to burn her store down."

The bus drops you off at Maria's. One of the windows adjacent to the door is boarded up; you walk inside, where Maria is in the middle of an argument with a uniformed officer. The officer is halfway through smoking a cigar, which seems to be the source of the argument.

"Do you understand what kind of equipment I use?!," Maria asks, already sounding thoroughly rankled. "You could blow this whole block to hell! Not to mention that this is a groCERY STORE, are you STUPID?!"

"Look, ma'am--" begins the cop, but

"You do not ma'am me!," Maria fires back. "I didn't hire you! We were robbed four times before, and we paid you to do what? Sit on your asses! You think I'm going to pay your department to solve this? I grow better detectives than you! I don't need you here, smoking nasty cigars in my GROCERY. STORE!"

The cop takes the cigar out of his mouth. He takes a loud sniff.

"Ms. Emperatriz, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. The arsonist failed once, they're awful likely to try again."

"And you are going to do what?," Maria asks. "You have never helped me. You are for-hire, and I am not hiring you or any of your pendejo squad just so you can barge in here and harass my customers like last time. No."

Kate, at last, can no longer help herself. "If you want people to pay you protection money, it helps to protect them first. I know you're NEW to this whole blue-line-mafia thing, but that's like... rule number one, dude."

The officer turns around, a gross smile pressing itself across his face.

"Well, well, well. Hello there, Ms. Halford. Makin' my job real easy today, huh?" He marches boldly up to the three of you. "Kate Halford, you're under arrest for inciting an arson--"

"WHAT!," shouts Kate, not even letting him finish.

"Like hell you are!," interjects Maria at roughly the same time.

The uniformed gentleman turns back to Maria. "Excuse me?"

"You're not arresting her!," proclaims Maria. "What did I JUST tell you? I'm not pressing charges against Kate Halford. She didn't do anything! Inciting an arson? Are you joking? Are you a funny jokes man now? Why don't you arrest the arsonist's parents, too! And the cave man who discovered fire! Everyone but the arsonist, because YOU don't know who that is!"

You're not sure how culturally insensitive vis a vis her accent it is to think the way she says arsonist is cute, but

"Ma'am--" He corrects himself before Maria can fire up again, "Ms. Emperatriz. We have reasonable suspicion that the perpetrator was at Ms. Halford's concert, and was driven into a frenzy by the general atmosphere--"

"That..." You swallow your nerves. You force the words out. "That's not how incitement works. ...You can't arrest someone for that, th-the word general alone precludes actus reus, for starters--"

He turns back to the three of you.

"Oh?" He forces a dry, obnoxious chuckle as he draws nearer. "You ladies here to tell me how the law works?" His smug grin widens. He shades his eyes with his hand, acting as though he's searching for something. "Well, I sure don't see no other cops here. Y'all must be confused--you don't get to tell me how to do MY job." He turns, and levels a gaze straight at Cici. "Y'all don't know what it's like to be real cops."

"Get the hell out of my store," demands Maria.

The police officer nonchalantly tosses his cigar onto the floor... and stomps it out.

You swear you can almost see Maria's hair rising into the sky. Her rage is palpable, building as quickly as her brain can process an act so brazen and childish.

He begins to walk past you toward the door--

but Cici sidesteps into his way.

She stares him down, her tone surprisingly calm. "I think you forgot your cigar, Officer Johnson."

He grins a much viler grin, locking eyes with Cici through his opaque shades. "I know they give you lab rats names--which one are you again? Figure ya must be that lib'ary girl, right? 'Cuz you got a pair on you... but don't think you're the cock o' the walk just 'cuz you don't work for the department anymore. The rest o' your brood still belong to us--might remember that next time you wanna run your mouth. ...Pretty sure they still make muzzles in y'all's size."

The silence that follows is a tense one.

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears.

You're not sure who's going to lose their cool first: you, Maria, or--

just kidding it's definitely Kate

The next several seconds are a blur; you and Cici's attentions shift quickly from Officer Johnson,

to trying to keep Kate from stabbing Officer Johnson.

"YOU WANNA ARREST ME?!," she screams, rapidly overpowering you to try and pull the switchblade from her pocket. "Kate, no! Not today!" "I'LL GIVE YOU A REASON TO ARREST ME, MOTHERFUCKER!" Cici tries to help you restrain her, but Kate's... slippery. Maria hops the counter, rushing over to assist; by the time all three of you have convinced Kate not to shank a cop, Officer Johnson has made a casual (but expedient) exit from the store.

Police in "oldschool" uniforms are typically contracted to the city, state, or mayor themselves; they otherwise exist in a nebulous area outside technical employment. It makes the nature of their responsibilities--and their limits--a lot more vague, legally speaking. While you've not had too much experience with the police, you have done some reading about legal shit, and what cops can and can't do... in theory.

In theory this whole incident should get Officer Johnson fired, but you're not that naive.

You know MondolGroup has its own cops, but you haven't seen any other police forces around here. Addersfield had a few different police stations, each with their own uniforms, all competing with one another for the business of the public. Usually, one police company will cover crimes in particular parts of town, or dig out a niche dealing with specific types of crime. If there's no real competition... well, you get shitty service. That's just capitalism.

"I'm sorry about that," Maria says. "I swear, I am not just constantly having arguments in the middle of the store."

Maria's dad begins to dispute it, but decides now is not the time.

"What can I do for you?," she asks.

You're still catching your breath. Just outside, Cici is trying to calm down Kate (and by that, you mean Cici physically carried her out of the store to get some air while Kate flailed and shouted).

"We're looking for Franklin," you tell her.

Maria inquires further. "Is he okay...?"

"Oh, yeah," you nod, "we just need to ask him a few questions."

Maria squints. "What kind of questions? ...Did he do something?"

uhhh

"I make videos," you tell her, "about games. I just found out Franklin may have been a developer on an arcade game that seriously influenced the medium--it would be a huge deal if I could interview him about his experience."

Maria continues to eye you with some skepticism.

She's probably working through it. She knows you're broke; that fits extremely well with you being a professional content creator. Nothing you're saying is technically a lie, but it still kind of feels like one.

"I've been helping him build his own space garden," she finally relents. "I think he's been gathering parts from some of the abandoned buildings around town."

"Space garden...?"

Maria smiles a little, and nods to one of the various machines hooked into the walls of the grocery store. "As long as you have power, you can grow anything--anywhere, even in outer space. I use space gardens to supply the store, but what I really want to do is help everyone build them. We could have solved world hunger years ago if this technology could just spread faster."

Huh. So Franklin's probably trying to grow his own food.

She has a point about the obscurity of the tech; if it works like she's describing, that's kind of insane--and you've definitely never heard of it. It does look like that, though, on closer inspection; all of the machines are like... vats, or cases, housing various plants. Some of them are--as Maria mentioned--for supply; near the door, a device is growing carrots in real time, where everyone can see them. Deeper into the store, though, the space gardens are also used for decoration--growing flowers you're pretty sure aren't normal for this region.

All of the machines look like they're made from spare parts. If it's good enough for a grocery store, it isn't too outrageous to think Franklin could be building a few space gardens with whatever he can strip from the old sections of town. It explains why he's been seen at the junkyard so much, too.

That does raise another question, though.

"...Where's he planning to put his plants?," you ask. "You said space gardens need power, right?"

"Right," confirms Maria. "A whole lot of power. EMF induction batteries aren't enough. I've been working with car batteries, trying to make a portable version, but I'm not there yet. ...Neither is anyone else on the internet. So for now, you have to wire it straight to a power source." She adjusts her glasses, and scowls a little. "...Now that I am thinking about it, I don't know where he's planning to put his plants." The scowl deepens. "Franklin is homeless, but he is pretty wily. Maybe he knows where to get free power."

She says that, but her face does not appear convinced.

Cici and Kate return.

"Alright," Kate begins, "what actually happened?"

Maria looks to the broken window. "They threw a beer bottle, with a... you know, the--"

"A Molotov cocktail," says Maria's dad, who you had almost forgotten was standing there.

"Right!" confirms Maria. "They threw the cocktail first, it bounced off the glass. They broke the glass with a brick, and then followed up with another cocktail."

"The store reinforced its glass last year, after that third robbery," Kate helpfully states. "Not leading with the brick was a rookie mistake anyway."

"That's what I said!," Maria agrees with an enthusiastic point. "It was someone who is bad at this."

"The brick was new," her father adds. "It did not look like a used brick. And it was not from around here."

Wait, seriously? "They brought their own brick...?"

"So that shit was planned," Kate points out. "Nobody was incited to do jack."

But why bring a brick? A new brick? You can FIND a brick, like... anywhere. They're all over the place. They're bricks. It doesn't even need to be a brick; you can find all kinds of brick-like things to throw.

Someone who is bad at this. No, it's more than that--it's someone who doesn't get out to a part of town like this, maybe doesn't get out much at all. A kid or a teenager would know better. You know better. They'd have to be less likely to think about something like this than you are. Where would you even get a new brick? If it was from their house, it'd be an obvious way to connect them to the crime. Did they steal a brick? From the brick store?

"What kind of beer was it?," Cici suddenly asks.

There's a brief pause as everyone gives Cici a ... slightly confused look, but Maria answers. "It was Heisler beer...?"

"MondolMall sells that, AND has a home improvement store," Cici replies. "I bet the bricks they sell look just like that one, too."

"Cool," Kate remarks. "That makes it more obvious Mondol did it, AND makes it harder to prove--literally anyone could have bought that shit. Half the town shops at that stupid mall."

You examine the floor... but you can barely tell where the Molotov even landed. "What stopped the fire?"

Maria smirks. "I built the sprinkler system."

"That's... amazing," you state. "All of this is amazing. Y..." It's a struggle to get it out, but you feel it needs to be said. "You're a cool person, Maria."

Her smirk eases into a more genuine smile. She tucks some stray hair behind her ear, actually appearing a little embarrassed. "It... it's not that big of a deal. The instructions are all online, I just make some adjustments. ...But thank you."

"There's probably no way to bust Mondol for this," Kate mutters, "but we'll keep an eye out, just in case."

"Junkyard?," Cici asks.

You nod. "Yeah. I think we've learned all we can here."

"Good luck tracking down Franklin," Maria tells you.

Waiting at the bus stop, you tell Cici and Kate what you learned about space gardens, and that Franklin may be building one (or more). It does sound like a way to cut down on food purchases, but you have no idea where someone without a permanent residence would get access to enough power. ...Or space. Those machines weren't exactly small, and those big cables were pretty noticeable.

Kate smirks. "I wonder if those things can grow level."

"It is a plant," you point out. "I don't see why it couldn't. ...Or other pharmaceutical drugs. That might be something to keep in mind for later." Could be cheaper than a prescription, or a personal med synthesizer. You don't know the first thing about growing drugs, but you certainly have the room for it.

...Running cables through the walls might be a problem.

The bus ride to the junkyard is relatively quiet.

"Should we bring Maria into this?," you finally ask. "She's smart, and she wouldn't rat us out. ...She could help."

"You can just say you wanna kiss Maria," Kate comments with a grin. "It's cool, we get it."

"What? That-- no, I just--" you're sure the stuttering you do for the next several seconds make an extremely effective case for your purely professional interest in Maria

"She might not believe us," Cici points out. "I haven't totally ruled out mold or something making us hallucinate, and I swung that crowbar myself. AND the more we learn, the crazier our story gets."

"Maria's a workaholic, too," Kate adds. "Like... I'm not opposed, Maria's pretty rad. Just. Y'know. Good luck."

You arrive at the junkyard. It's about 1:30 pm.

You walk right through the front gate, with no real resistance or... anything. "So... does the owner of the junkyard just not care if we take things, or...?"

"Basically, yeah," Kate replies. "He doesn't give a shit. It's a bitch to drive scrap from here to anyone that'll buy it, so this place builds up junk faster than the owner can get rid of it. I think he still picks through the nicest car trash to resell, but everything else he just wants gone. ...That, and he wants to be my step-dad, so I get away with a lot of shit out here."

"Really?," Cici asks.

"Yeah," Kate says bluntly. "Big hots for my mom."

"I mean, Kate's mom is--"

you realize that you began the sentence about halfway through the sentence

and by then, it's far too late.

Kate gives you a LOOK

Cici stops, staring at you with wide eyes. Waiting.

"...a very nice... woman," you conclude. Nailed it.

"Damn, Plaire!," Cici laughs. "You need to settle down, first Maria now Kate's mom?"

DJ;JKLF;JA "I didn't say anything about finding Maria attractive!," you insist. "Or... OR Kate's mom. You have completely misread the--!"

"Alright, alright," Kate interjects, putting her hands up, "Plaire, keep it in your pants, we need to focus on the task at hand."

God dammit

"What're we lookin' for?," Cici asks. "Franklin, yeah, but what else? Weapons?"

"Baseball bats, crowbars," Kate lists off, "a golf club or whatever could work. Shit we can swing. The dungeon gave us a sword, but... you said you'll be waking up in that striped room next, right?"

"Yeah," you confirm, "I think so, anyway. ...Which means the chest with the sword in it might be way outside the route, depending on what we decide to do tonight. It takes a key, too--a key that might be better spent elsewhere, like on that locked door closest to the stairs."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Cici chuckles.

"Just focus on finding weapons," Kate says. "It'll all make sense later. ...Unless it doesn't. I still don't GET IT-get it, but I'm startin' to get it."

"What else?," Cici asks. "Should we split up?"

Kate scoffs. "I got shit yesterday for not recognizing horror movie tropes--now you wanna split up?"

Cici shrugs. "We'd cover more ground that way!"

"That's exactly what people say in horror movies," you point out. "Like, word for word, that's the line."

Cici crosses her arms. "Well, I don't think we're IN a horror movie. I think it's one of those coming-of-age adventure films. ...Like when a bunch of kids save an alien! Or go off following a treasure map in search of pirate gold! We're gonna learn some lessons, discover ourselves, and stop an orphanage from getting bulldozed or something."

Kate shakes her head. "Plaire had to fight a wall wearing her dad's face like a fucking mask last night. If we split up, Franklin'll pick us off one by one, drag us to his secret shed in the woods and make us play fucked up murder games. Bet."

You're not... really sure Franklin is the slasher villain type, or if he's even capable of picking you off one by one. ...On the other hand, while splitting up WOULD let you search the fairly large junkyard more efficiently, it would be a great deal riskier if there's anything else out here to worry about.

...Or if you've horribly misjudged Franklin, and he IS in fact a slasher villain with a secret murder shed.

It might also help to establish what you're searching for, ahead of time. Weapons, naturally, but there may be other tools or objects worth telling the others to keep an eye out for.

The first thing you notice are the soda cans sitting around the area near the entrance. Pizza boxes, too; they look like they've been here a while, but not that long. Maybe a couple days, at most.

"How often do people visit this junkyard...?," you ask, approaching a broken down car.

"Kids drive down here sometimes to make out or... whatever," Kate states.

"Eww," Cici replies, "in a junkyard?"

Kate smirks. "Gotta make out somewhere."

Peering into the car, it appears empty--save for some mysterious stains, dried blood, and more soda cans. ...And a couple of beer cans, and some haphazardly tossed cigarette butts. ...And a large number of punctures in the windshield. It looks like some teens may have been hiding from the birds in here; you're surprised the glass held up, though it looks like it could break at any second.

You decide the three of you should mostly stick together for now--or at least, you should stay within sight of each other.

"We need armor... tools," you list off, "anything that can pick locks, weapons... uh... furniture? If it looks like we can carry it back?"

"I don't know if I'd trust furniture you find out here," Cici remarks. "I haven't heard great things about bed bugs."

The junkyard, in general, is fairly daunting; trash is stacked so high that it's easy to lose track of where you are, and most of it's just miscellaneous junk. You don't need a bunch of dented hubcaps, or a box of mysterious cables, or a ripped tarp, or a metal drum full of fishing poles (stripped of their lines, no less), or...

"Hey!," announces Cici, after turning over a massive piece of debris-- "I found a toolbox!" Picking it up and opening it, Cici discovers that the toolbox is... empty.

But still, hey, a toolbox.

You find a motorcycle helmet, though it doesn't... quite fit right. Which might be an issue if you plan to actually ride a motorcycle, but a little awkwardness shouldn't affect you too much in the dungeon.

Hell--with the inconsistent nature of the dream, you might grow into the helmet, or it might fit you perfectly by virtue of being "equipped." You really don't know, at this point. There's some light scuffs on the surface, but otherwise it looks perfectly intact. ...Which makes you wonder, briefly, why someone would throw it away. Maybe they just bought a new one!

Most importantly a helmet will keep shit out of your FACE

"I found some tools," Kate says, gathering items into her arms, "but uhhh we're gonna wanna wash these off when we get back."

You find some rope in both blue and classic brown.

The initial surge of discovery quickly dies down; the three of you wander the junkyard for a while, opening half-buried file cabinets and turning over chunks of garbage--on several occasions immediately jumping at the sight of huge ants, humongous roaches, or one (1) enormous spider, respectively. None of you are particularly enthusiastic about bugs, you discover, though after having a smoke Kate does admire the spider from a safe distance.

"Yooo," announces Kate, prior to rushing over and pulling a steel folding chair out of the scrap. "I have always wanted to crack a dude with a chair. I'm keeping this for sitting but also just in case."

The birds soaring overhead leave you alone as you search, but they do make you a bit nervous. They are very large, and their silhouettes are a little gross looking. ...A couple of them are barely bird shaped.

After some more digging, Cici turns up a set of fightball pads and some old MMA gloves. The gloves are a little big, and the pads threaten to crush your boobs, but otherwise it mostly fits.

Finally, you collect about three old keys.

In total you found:

• A toolbox

• A screwdriver

• A wrench

• A knife

• Brown rope and blue rope

• Old keys x 3

• A motorcycle helmet

• Fightball pads

• MMA gloves

• A steel chair

It's about 4:00 pm by the time you all get tired of burrowing through garbage.

"We never found any weapons," you grumble.

"All the baseball bats and shit here are broke," Kate mentions. "I found a knife? Dude--you barely use weapons anyway. You need a god damn flamethrower. How many molotovs can you fit down your pants?"

"...Something with a lot of reach would be good," you point out. "I have to reach the... uh... skin flaps on the sides of that boss. I can get in and out fast enough, I think, but a polearm would give me a bigger margin for error."

"Well," Cici begins. "We could make something."

Kate smiles. "What, like arts and crafts this shit? I'm down."

The three of you end up thoroughly taping broom handles together, slightly reinforced with metal bars where the handles meet. You and Kate dig up a broken knife blade and a detached hatchet head, and attach those to the initial pole.

You have crafted a makeshift polearm.

The three of you begin to haul your loot back to the bus stop. "So what's next?," Cici asks.

Kate checks her phone, then hands you her metal chair. "My ass is going to work. Don't care what you dorks are doing, I'll call you when I get off."

"Oh, yeah," Cici comments. "Guess I should make sure Meatloaf hasn't eaten the library."

"You want me to go with you?," you ask.

Cici shakes her head. "Nah, I need to do some thinking. Thanks, though! I'll swing by later!"

The bus arrives.

The long trip to Kate's bus stop is fairly quiet.

Kate gets off, and begins the journey toward her mom's house.

The bus drops Cici off near the library,

and then takes you home.

You dump all your newly acquired stuff off in a big pile in your bedroom, and set the metal folding chair up in your living room.

Yup.

Definitely starting to look like a house now.

Looks like Kate forgot her backpack.

Yup. Yup yup.

Definitely feeling satisfaction over the accruement of furniture.

Definitely not getting a sudden wave of sadness and anxiety tied to an irrational fear that you're a burden, the least useful member of the group, and everyone secretly finds you obnoxious.

That's definitely not happening, and you're definitely not going to obsess over it the entire time your friends are gone because what the fuck is wrong with you.

Yup.

House sure is quiet.

Quiet house.

You take a Brainsate.

While waiting for it to kick in, you have a snack.

You clean off the various items you and your friends found at the junkyard, and you inspect them to make sure it's all still functional.

You listen to some music, and take a shower.

You practice with your makeshift polearm.

You think about the house.

House is indestructible. House drinks blood.

One or both witches died in the house.

You don't know who, or how.

One was a shut-in who lived here.

The other was the old librarian.

Marlow's met the librarian; Ezra likely has, too.

"She was, as I recall, a sweet young lady. We discussed the weather, and music, though she was disappointed when I didn't recognize the band on her T-shirt. She was purchasing the second ring for her sister, who had been suffering from depression."

...Her sister.

The witches may have been sisters.

. . .

Cici's taking longer than you expected.