I must be dreaming cause I don't believe in ghosts

[memento_corazon]

[Rosinante was late this morning, although Law knew why. He was picking up breakfast, he always offered to do it for them, and Law always put a little money in the heart shaped basket on Rosinante's desk to try to make up for it. Sometimes it got accepted, sometimes it ended up back on Law's desk, but the tradition of Rosinante bringing breakfast for them to work was a consistent.

It was one of many things that were constants for them. Rosinante got breakfast, Law looked over the early work that was set up for them, the files given that came from their superiors and he sorted out which ones he felt were needed to be dealt with first. Rosinante would skim through everything, he always did, the man was meticulous when it came to their cases. But Law usually had a good eye for what was important first.

Vintage dolls were going missing, and people spoke of seeing a 'centipede made of babies' in the distance. At the distance stated, this suggests a very large entity. And people are starting to feel compelled to purchase dolls and leave them out for this creature.

A cat in the next town had started supposedly speaking and telling fortunes in exchange for fish dinners. Everyone who feeds the cat has seen a rise in income, but feel unhealthily indebted to and will not risk not gifting it more food.

One vintage radio, Marine specific model, that tells the listener something dark they need to hear if put on the right station. The results have supposed driven nine people to suicide, no other information is had.

An apartment owner has sent specific information about a loud and repeating haunting. They've been aware of this haunting for years, a replay of a murder-suicide. However, the issue seems to be escalating and warping the apartment building.

Dozens of others are there, a house of VGGs, Victorian ghost girls, none of which ever actually are described in any way that matches children of that time period, all blond and blue eyed. Of course. Those are a dime a dozen, and hardly ever end with anything. This one though, one that slides out from the stack of ghosts and big foot and magic wells, says that the girl is beautiful, fragile looking, and the people who have encountered her feel like she's about to eat them the entire time. Law adds it to the four files above, on the top of the stack.

He's so caught up in his file hunting that he doesn't notice the sound of Rosinante's footsteps.]

Comments

FINALLY I am here and I am ready for this

[callada]

[Part of getting breakfast means a chance to think about mundane things like city streets and pleasant warm cafes. A few minutes to walk, to have a cigarette, and pretend his life is as normal as most everyone else's before plunging into whatever mad adventure Law has found for them that day.

At least his job is never boring.

Law must have something good, too, with how he's busily reading over the morning's picks and hasn't even spared him a glance. He just chuckles and sets the box down on Law's desk in front of him, with the smell of sweet red bean, rice, and sweet potato wafting from it. A new place, with new offerings, and an aroma impossible to resist had lured him in and he can't wait to dig in. But first, he rests a hand on Law's shoulder as he leans down to look over what's on the screen.]

Whatever it's going to be today, don't pick one at the fish wholesalers. I swear, it took a week to stop smelling like seafood last time.

[Who knew the ghosts of ancient pirates could inhabit treasure swallowed by an enormous octopus hauled up from the depths? That had been exciting in a way he'd rather not repeat too quickly.]