LOG: Noel and Del WHO: Noel Lennox and Del ?? WHAT: Noel begrudingly takes up the case of the Missing Asian Man WHERE: Initially, Lower East Side
Noel thought he'd ignore it much like he'd ignored the three presences hovering in the periphery of his mental landscape. The vision had been sharp and detailed, the forty-something asian man, eyes wide and jaw slack, backing away from something - no, not a thing, a someone? No, he wasn't sure that was right either. But it was a distinctly familiar presence that set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge as power, like the vacuum of space, cracked through the room and left it empty, still. He tried to track it further, but the stop was so hard, the block so complete, he knew that he hadn't been disappeared to Chicago or Tokyo.
The workshop was familiar though. How many times had he seen this place in his dreams and seen the robot girl here? Tinkering away with varying degrees of success, her dark hair always messy on top of her head? Hundreds of times? Thousands. He knew which drawer to open to find any given tool, Noel thought, which was precisely why he was ignoring it.
If he felt he couldn't escape his dreamscape friends, could not escape the gravity of their presence in New York, the best he could do was not actively run to them.
But that had been 3 days ago and the vision hadn't left him alone, hadn't dissolved under the power of another. Every time he tried to scry, every time he inhabited that state between wakefulness and sleep, every time he tried not to have a vision, it came. The same one. Over and over.
Noel resigned himself to this thing he'd successfully avoided for 5 years. He put on one of the myriad white shirts and myriad suits, then the same familiar loafers he could nearly feel the street through. Lulu had nudged at him plaintively, pressing her harness into his hand, but he kissed the top of her head and had her lie in her bed.
She wasn't hard to find in the darkness of his mind. Even if she hadn't been tied to him nearly all his life, her magic in the sea of the mundane was a beacon to his senses. He'd always known she'd be the easiest to find if the time ever came. Since the man was out of his considerable range... she'd be the person to go to.
Noel called the car service (extra money to subscribe to, but worth the security that Uber sorely lacked) and gave them the address. He sat back in the seat, cane folded in one hand and, trying to foresee what this interaction would bring, was disappointed when it was the same bloody vision of the man disappearing.