No houses, ghost or ghouls could ever compare to the absolute terror a loose orange cat could make.
While he is not the one to perpetuate stereotypes, Mozilla is a bit of a … rowdy boy.
He’s a complete sweetheart! Most of the time. When he’s not zooming around the house.
He needs to find him quick, before he has to cover up for another criminal.
Surely he will see the social situation he’s in and behave, right?
Will he be his angle or his debil?
“Agh, I should’ve given him the full dose. He probably woke up and managed to get out.”
Although… there’s something fishy about that statement.
If Firefox was hungry or wanted to get out, he would meow first, then initiate a daring escape, but Oliver didn’t hear anything.
And how could he escape? There doesn’t seem to be any signs of scratches or bite marks around the lock, nor anywhere outside the carrier.
Did his cat become a genius overnight and found out a way to unlatch the lock without leaving any marks?
Actually, new hypothesis. Perhaps he did meow, but Ángel woke up instead and fed him. Thus, a sleepy Ángel could’ve left the hatch badly closed, therefore, feline malice occurs.
That’s the only logical explanation. Even if there’s no signs of Mozilla being fed.
In any case, better catch that orange menace soon, before he terrorizes the poor people. Then he shall interrogate it.
He follows a trail of cat hair, passing the entrance and into the little dining area.
“FIREFOX”
He screams. In his head. With agony.
He sees nothing but a tragedy, as it seems that his devil spawn raided the place.
His dad was right. He should’ve enlisted that cat in the military. To give him discipline.
He sees broken glass, spilled beans and a random half of a fish. Where did he get fish?!
He hurriedly cleans up the broken glass and everything else spilled on the floor. He arranges the glasses, so it doesn’t look like one is missing.
He’s so glad Dominion is inactive. His neighbors were right, he does attract crime.
While cleaning, he notices something on the wall.
A knife set. There’s one missing.
Mozilla… with a knife. God help us all.
But seeing as he doesn’t have any thumbs, it’s more likely a misplaced object by a worker.
Even if his detective intuition says otherwise. Or is it painful memories?
In any case, neither houses nor ghosts need knives. That he knows of.
He quickly makes a mental note of where the emergency brake is.
As he leaves the no longer crime scene, the cat hair trail becomes scattered. He is now stuck on the corridor, leadless and catless.
Until.
“Huh?”
Young Sebastian seems to have mastered the art of guitar dual wielding.
“Ah! You’re Sebastian, yes? What are you doing out here so late?”
“Oh, I found this guitar. I think the mustache kid left it there. But uh, I don’t really want to wake him up…”
“Owen tends to do that. Here, I’ll give it to him in the morning”
“Thanks, uh. Guy”
“I’m Private Detective Oliver Beebo. As the prophecy foretold”
He has now learned that he gets way less misunderstandings when he clarifies the “Private” part. The last bit is from Vivi.
“Private detective? I didn’t know that job still existed. Or that it was profitable”
“Haha, takes lots of effort and self publicity, but it manages”
“Wait, have you been investigating or something?”
“Ah, no. I’m actually looking for my cat. Have you seen an orange creature of evil intent around?”
“A cat? That would explain some things.”
A witness. Oh no.
“I think I heard scratching from the bathrooms, it scared me half to death. Ah, but it was like, an hour or so ago”
So he has been causing trouble. Man. But still, a lead is a lead. If Firefox was in the bathrooms around an hour ago- Wait, does that mean…?
“Have you been awake for long?”
“I haven’t slept yet”
“Wha- Sebastian, that’s not healthy. I get you’re young , but at some point your body will not accept it.”
“Haha, I know. I’m not as young as you think”
“It’s just… been reminiscing. About things”
“What type of things. If you don’t mind me asking”
If you dont mind it being used as information for any house hunting needs.
“Something about this train has been making me feel… nostalgic. I guess.”
“My mother used to tell me all kinds of stories about the trains she used to take”
“Ah, I get it. My grandma used to live near a station, too. I remember laughing at the surprised chickens when the train passed”
“You got chickens?”
“No, no, I’m from the south, and my family worked in the farms.”
“Like, owners of the farms?”
“No? As workers”
“Huh. Sorry it’s just… everyone else is so fancy looking. Ah, I don’t mean to offend I just-“
“I also hang around rich people. It’s interesting to see someone else like me”
“You mean, your friends?”
“Them too but like, others as well”
“My mom worked as a maid, well, “house assistant” or something, but she was literally a maid.”
“At some point we were having a lot of trouble with the rain in our house, so the family she was working for offered us to move in with them”
“So, in a way, I’ve always been around rich people, while living the life of a normal average person”
“At some point though, mom got sick. The family gave her support for medical bills but, she succumbed”
Oh. By “Nostalgia” Sebastian meant Grieving
Wait, this is dangerous.
“I’m so sorry. Was it… COVID?”
“What? No, no. This was a while ago.”
“The family offered me to take her place, but I wanted to study.”
“So, as a token of friendship, I guess. They rent me one of their apartments in a building they own. With a slight discount”
“That’s nice of them, I think. At that point, they probably saw you as their own son”
“That’s… that’s something I been having trouble with”
“My mother never stopped working, even while sick. She also barely had any time to herself, seeing as the family had her at all hours of the day.
She said she liked working there, that the family was kind.
But I could see her swollen feet, only resting at night.
I could see us sitting on another table for lunch.
I could see us being invited to vacations, only for her to be working once more.
Would it really have been okay if she ever said ‘No’ to them? Would she have risked it?
My mother’s illness got worse by stress.”
“I… I guess I’m not sure how to feel.
This place made all those memories return tenfold. All this talk about ghosts makes me think that… Maybe I could see her again”
“Sorry, you seem like a guy who knows things, but I shouldn’t use you as a therapist or a discord vent channel.”
He seems to be going through a lot, and not even counting his dead friend! No wonder he hasn’t slept.
“While your mother had, certainly a sacrificed life, she was honorable.”
“Wow, you really talk like a southern guy”
“Shush, what I’m trying to say is that, she loved you. She would want you to remember the good times with her, not the times she struggled”
“And having those memories, even if looking back becomes painful, is a beautiful thing”
“They were here, They were alive and they were beautiful. And as long as you keep those memories, they will live on”
“…You are a wise guy.”
“I would be even wiser if I could follow my own advice. But my own loss is a bit too fresh yet”
“I get that… I spent like a week just clutching her guitar and crying”
“Is that hers?”
“No, no. This fancy thing is a gift from Fede. Mom was the one who taught me how to play, though”
He gets an idea
“Do you know anything from Los Bunkers?”