It was late, but the delirium wasn’t hitting. No, there was an express purpose he was here tonight. Investigate. Heath had practically jumped at the sound of that beautiful word. He had been so eager, so desperate. Sinclair had obliged tonight, if only because their rent was riding on this kind of crap. As much as the coati hated his witch forcing himself to stay up late, he couldn’t argue wit the sounds of a growling stomach. Although, this was also partially Heath’s own fault. They had food, he just chose to not remember to eat it, and it was impossible for Sinclair to be ever vigilant.

Heath crept quietly through the alleyways, Sinclair just a few feet ahead of him lingering in the shadows. Today’s investigation was, strangely enough, spearheaded by both his superiors. The newspaper was intent on discovering the artisan of the few weapons used in a string of crimes, things from robbery to homicide. His boss wanted the contact information of the prick that had stabbed one of is dealers and taken their stock. All in all, is mission for the night was tracking down some arms dealer, who wasn’t even the one to go to. One person led to another, and then another. He’d spent most of his afternoon moving from place to place and writing down minor notes.

Now it was dark, the sky was pitch black save for the sliver of moon that barely afforded any light. Still, his search had led him to something more residential than he’d imagined. He’d expected this source from the Hovel, not somewhere this close to the city center. Still, the pair approached cautiously. ‘It’s closed, let’s leave.’ Sinclair stated, getting closer to his witch’s feet. ‘Not yet.’ Heath returned, giving his surroundings a glance before testing the door. It budged after a light push and he carefully stepped forward. He heard Sinclair sigh in exasperation before filtering past him. ‘Anything familiar to what we saw?’ he asked, his familiar’s night vision superior to his own eyes that were still adjusting. He grunted, as his foot smacked what he could vaguely tell was an anvil. “Fuck!” He whispered as he bent down to put pressure on his knee. God, he was horrible at this already.

‘I think there’s some weapons, but I need to get closer to inspect them.’ Sinclair informed, though Heath could already hear him climbing things. He turned his head in the direction of the sound, outlines fading in. He froze, fists clenching and jaws clamping together shut as a soft voice interrupted their endeavors. A different light source brightens up the workshop and Heath momentarily blinded as well as silently panicked. Sinclair said nothing, a statue on top of a case of miscellaneous weapons. “I apologize for the intrusion.” Heath stated, eyes clenched shut as he rubs them for a moment before turning back to the homeowner. Fuck. The blonde watches spots flicker in his vision but he ignores it as he gathers himself.

And then, he immediately loses it once again. ‘Not this crock again! Heath. Stop it!’ Sinclair hisses. He can already feel his witch dropping out of reality completely. Heath swallowed hard, still blinking. “Yes.” He said his body felt so mechanical as he spoke, half his mind elsewhere for the moment. “I’m, uh, I’m looking for the maker of this dagger.” He slowly pulls one strap of his backpack off and unzips it before pulling out the weapon, cleaned after its retrieval form the mugging. One of the few that hadn’t made its way into the Knight’s clutches. “I- We were lead to believe that I could, possibly, find some information here.” He paused, forcing himself to look away and at Sinclair for support but the familiar was fuming over a rapier, silently cursing at him so he could stay on task. He wasn’t trying HARD enough. “Do you…live here?”

ooc: sorry its kinda long WHEEZES