Starfall: Chapter 8: Home Sweet Home

Several hours later, after a nap, and two additional movies.

'Well, watching their movie will ruin meeting them, if I ever do. I mean, what was that guy's name who did Nick's voice? He was in a lot of films, same with the lady who did Judy's. They were human voices and from what I've heard, they'll sound nothing like that.' Smiling as he glances at the window.

'Finally, night-time.'

Packing everything up then zipping up the suit he grimaces 'Staying still was a mistake.' Grumbling, Mark pops another set of pain reliever pills. 'Damn things must've worn off while I was waiting. I thought these were the twenty-four hour kind?'

Hefting up the backpack, he rolls his shoulders before slotting on the gas-mask. 'That should hide my face and make it look like I have a muzzle, at least from a distance.'

Walking over to the door he opens it and crawls through the small mammal opening.

Old yellow sodium flood lamps provide more than enough light for him to navigate around and see that everything seems to be off and closed on the warehouse across the alleyway.

Leaving the door ajar, he makes no attempt to lessen the sounds of his boots hitting the metal stairs as they echo in the warm summer night. Followed by the concrete ground.

Heading further down the alleyway unconcerned, it soon ends and dumps him out into a large park stylized like a jungle clearing.

The whole thing sits in-between the solid glass front wall of a building on one side. Showing empty office space for the warehouse he was just in, and a normal looking office space for the occupied one on the other.

If it wasn't for all the furnishings built with multiple sized mammal's in mind inside it. Just barely visible through the trees is a parking lot and a two lane road beyond that.

Both are thankfully empty.

Casually, he walks though the park. Glancing around at the picnic tables for various sized mammals as well as trash bins 'Obviously some kind of outdoor place for office employees to take lunch breaks.' Shrugging, he walks through the back line of trees to the road.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, he stops and looks about. 'Sigh, so, which way do I go?' Looking back and forth, Mark heads left.

Casually walking down the sidewalk, he avoids area's lit by the few lamp posts, all the while keeping an eye out for vehicles.

'Occupied warehouse, another occupied warehouse, empty lot, a green space for employees. Maybe I should turn back and go the other way?' Pausing for a bit, he looks back the way he came.

'No, I only have a limited amount of time before dawn.' Sighing, He continues onward. 'Huh? What's that? Odd shape for a tree.' Walking up to it, he can't help smiling a little.

'Huh, okay. That's neat. Instead of a metal pole and arm overhanging the roadway for an intersection light with only either a silver or black paint job. They have vines and other clinging plant life encase it, with only just enough trimmed away to allow access to a series of cross-walk buttons placed at various heights like those doors.'

Looking up, the sight makes him chuckle.

'Instead of the normal bright yellow casing of the traffic lights, they've been encased in metal shaped and painted like fern leafs. They're really dedicated to this jungle theme aren't they?'

Smiling, Mark presses the button to cross the street, even though there's no one going either way. ' It's kinda charming to be honest.' The lights change, stopping traffic, and a non-human mammal stick figure animation shines through the vines, mimicking walking across the street.

'That's both cute and honestly surprising. These buttons aren't normally hooked up to anything back home. Instead, run on sensors or timers.' Repositioning his backpack, Mark crosses and continues down the road.

This side of the street's lined with some smaller warehouses, which have store-fronts.

About a half a block away a not so distant glow makes the darkness into more of a gloom. 'Most likely an old style gas station. It's too small to be a charging station, if this place is similar to the same year back home.'

Glancing across the street. 'All the stores there are closed and only some parking lot lights are on, good.' Running across the street, and once again in the safety of the night, Mark continues on.

Only to stop in his tracks upon seeing the gas station.

'Kiwi-trip? Oh, god that's so bad of a pun it's painful.' Shaking his head at it, Mark ignores the station and walks on.

Half a block later the roar of racing engines sends him into some shrubbery. Seconds later a hand-full of riced out wannabe racing cars scream by.

'What a waste of fuel.' Shaking his head, Mark pulls himself out of the shrubbery and continues on.

Shops soon give way to older brick houses lacking the jungle aesthetic, yet they have yards filled with the same foliage. Some are more tended to than others before being replaced by cracked and pitted concrete.

Sitting at the stark divide between the two is a wood and metal sign in disrepair. 'Welcome to Historical Zootopia, or 'Happy-Town' according to the graffiti scrawled over it.' Glancing beyond the sign.

'Looks like I'm in the right place if I want to find an abandoned building to crash in for a bit. Buildings with no lights on and a sudden dearth of working street lamps and a general sense of disrepair.' Shifting the weight of the backpack a bit, he follows the street further into 'Happy-Town'.

Walking along the street, brick houses give way to brick multi tenant and apartment buildings. 'It's like I stepped further back in time. Some of those apartment buildings looks a lot like the ones I've seen in photos of the Nineteen Twenties and Thirties New York and L. A.'

Wincing upon seeing a shot up 'stop sign'. 'Hmm, good thing this suit is mostly small arms proof…' He looks a bit farther up. 'Corner of Pride and Pack street.' Shrugging, Mark turns down Pack street.

'Heh, I wonder if wolves mostly live here, because they form packs… Sigh, get it together Mark. Only a day here and you're already cracking Dad level bad jokes to yourself.'

Letting out a deep breath, Mark follows the street down another block, then comes to a stop. 'Bingo. 'Three story apartment complex for sale…' I'll bet that sign means the building's empty.' Smiling at finally finding a place to stay, he ignores the noise his boots are making on the brick work stairs.

'Strange, this is the first door I've seen since I arrived that's just a single door. Not some Russian doll set up doors within doors.' Reaching up, he grasps the tarnished brass handle only to come to a stop.

The hairs on the back of his neck are standing on end.

'Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being watched? No one is out here in the dead of night, are they?' Letting go of the handle and turning around. 'Is someone out here with me?' Looking back the way he came, then further down the poorly lit street, trying to force his eyes to make out details where their isn't any.

Stopping med turn, his eyes latch onto the tiny red glow of cigarette. An utterly mundane sight as most of the crew on the ship he was on smokes. 'I'm such an idiot, I must have missed it earlier…'

The dim light from an approaching car reveals the figure around the mysterious red embers.

A large lupine, covered with black fur in between their casual clothes. The cigarette in their muzzle hangs on the side while their piercing yellow eyes focused directly at him. All the while this mammal sits cross-legged in between the two tenant buildings across the street.

'Sigh, and spotted. No way I'm going to get out of this like how the otter spotted me on the train.'

'Act calm, and natural, maybe I can make it look like I was just interested in the sign.' As the car passes by and the light fades, he calmly walks down the stairs.

Staring at the wolf while the ember's glow, then dim as they breathe. Trying to make out their shape in the gloom, for any sign they're standing up.

Slowly, casually, Mark places a hand on one of his Plasma Shocker's. 'Just stay where you are and you won't get hurt. I know you, as a lupine, can see me better than I can see you in this gloom.'

He steps towards the alley next to the building, like that was his destination all along. With the bulk of his body blocking the one Plasma Shocker he has his hand on, he thumbs the voltage level to one in his estimation, will work on the wolf.

'Don't want to turn my back to them, but I have to.' Turning, he walks into the alleyway, trying to not hurry his steps.

Several feet into the ally he turns to look back.

The orange flicker of a lighter briefly illuminates the lupine's black fur covered face, followed by the new glow of their newly lit cigarette. 'Good… Just, sit there and slowly kill yourself with those cancer sticks.'

Satisfied, Mark heads further down the alleyway with his hand on the wall, until he touches a door frame.

With one swift motion Mark draws the Plasma-Shocker, then points it down the alley. Hiding most of his bulk, as much as his backpack allows, behind the frame of the door. 'Lets hope your smart and didn't fo…'

“In case no one told you, gangs aren't tolerated on Pack Street asshole, I'll give you one chance to put your fancy taser away leave before you make this difficult." Mark's grip tightens, then fingers the trigger. 'Dumb mutt it is.'

Paws stepping on concrete echo through the alleyway, the glow of their cigarette ember radiates from ten, maybe fifteen feet away.

“I'm not part of any gang, I am just going to use this abandoned building for shelter for today." The sounds of the city intrude, including a distant siren.

The wolf takes another pull from their cigarette, the glowing tip lighting up parts of their muzzle.

They take a couple steps forward, more silently than earlier. 'They were letting me hear their footsteps on purpose?'

“Neither are low-life's and druggies dip-shit, everyone in happy town knows that. Now come out, peacefully, so I can drag you by the tail off our territory. You can break into a building somewhere else and get high off your tail there." The wolf takes another step forward, putting them less than ten feet away.  

Guessing the location of the point just in front of the wolf, he fires. 'Get the fucking hint dog. Leave me alone!'

The reddish purple beam of cold plasma from the weapon momentarily lights up the alleyway. 'Holy hell, they're huge. Almost as tall as I am.' The timber wolf, stares down at the pavement and the plasma scorch it now sports. Ears fully up and tail still.

Mark rotates the cylinder with his thumb. “I didn't want to do that! To answer the questions I bet you have, let's just say I am not from around these parts, Mr or Ms wolf, sorry I can't tell. So how about you go back to your spot across the street and continue to smoke there. I'm just going to use this building here for shelter till tomorrow night, then move on to somewhere else."

Said wolf looks up from the spot on the pavement. “What do you call yourself?"

Mark raises the Plasma-Shocker a little higher, aiming for where he thinks the wolf's chest is. 'What's this wolf up too?'

“Why do you want to know? If I have my way you'll never see me again after tonight."

The laugh the wolf lets out causes mark to tighten his grip. 'Dammit, I don't want to shoot you. Each mammal I shoot I leave evidence for the police, I don't want to leave any more than I have to.'

“Because mammal, whatever you are under that suit, you obviously have poor night-vision. I can see you looking back and forth like you can't exactly see me, while you missed me by about a foot." The wolf drags on their cigarette as they walk forward.

Mark tightens his grip on his weapon.

“You're blind in this alley, while I can see just fine. On top of that, your ray-gun has a slow rate of fire because I clearly heard the ratcheting of a mechanism as your finger moved over it." The wolf takes yet another step forward, forcing Mark to take a step back.

“On top of that, I can see your ray-gun has four shots, you've just spent one and with how blind you are. I'm sure I can be on top of you before you can get another shot off, but, on the other paw, you could've hit me a moment ago. I'll go out on a limb here and say you didn't want to hit me. Nor do you want to, considering I'm at point-blank range." The wolf takes one final drag off the cigarette, then flicks it at Mark.

It hits him square on the chest trauma plate and bounces to the ground.

'Don't look at it! Keep your eyes on where you think this wolf is. I'll only have one shot, and if I miss I won't be able to fight them like I've been trained to fight. Not in this darkness.' The deep rumbling laughter coming from the wolf cuts the tension, causing Mark to lower the Plasma-Shocker a bit in confusion.

“You're the one with the fucking ray gun for Luna's sake. Yet I can smell the fear rolling off you like you're a pup who just shit their pants." The wolf pauses a moment, followed by the sound of metal jingling int heir hand.

“A god-damn idiot can tell you neither want to be seen by anyone. I have no clue as to why you do, nor do I want to know. You have your reasons, so I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you the keys to this building, in return you'll be out the absolute fucking second the sun sets tomorrow night. Also, you'll never set paw again on Pack Street. Outsiders looking to cause trouble here aren't welcome."

Holstering the Plasma-Shocker, Mark stares at the barely visible figure of the wolf. 'By any right this wolf should call the police on me. Instead, they're giving me a deal…' Looking at the door near him and then back at the location the black furred wolf, he sighs.

“Deal."

The wolf gives an amused chuckle that seems to be mixed with a normal lupine guttural sounds. They flick on their lighter, providing a minuscule amount of light, but just enough Mark can  more easily make out their frame in the darkness.

“One more thing Mammal. What's your name and what's your species? Don't act like chicken shit and dodge the question this time." As they ask, the wolf holds out the keys in the hand not holding the lighter.

“My name is Mark, and my 'species' is why I'd rather not be found by anyone. Since I've agreed to your deal, why don't you toss those keys over to me?" Holding one of his hands out, Mark waits for the keys to be thrown to him.

The wolf tilts their head a bit with a lopsided grin showing some of their fangs. “Okay 'Mark'." They toss the keys, Mark catches them easily.

“Keep in mind 'Mark', you 'owe' me for this, even with just your name I have friends that can find you. Anyway, as for the key's, after you leave tomorrow night, place them behind the loose brick two up and three over from the porch on the right side of the front door." Closing the lighter, the alleyway's plunged back into darkness.

The wolf walking in such a way their footfalls can be heard by Mark as they turn to walk away.

“I told you my name Wolf, what's yours, if you're to insist I owe you I need to know it." Staring into the darkness, he tries to make out their form. 'Did they leave already?'

“Betty, and don't you forget it nor the terms of our little agreement here." Looking down at the keys, he listens to her walk out of the alleyway and back across the street.

'She I guess, Betty is a girl's name.'

Holding it firmly in his hand, Mark walks up to the door, feeling around for the handle. 'Just like the front door, odd. I bet it was a recent invention to have their doors stacked in a Russian doll style.' Sticking the key in, the mechanism resists a bit from age and misuse.

With a little effort, mainly using both hands, it turns, unlocking the door and allowing him in.

Shutting it behind him, Mark pulls out the Zootopian made flashlight. 'This should be less conspicuous than the high lumen one from my kit.' Flicking it on, Mark blinks.

'Not exactly what I expected to see in an abandoned building to be honest. No trash strewn about, broken furniture, or other substances.' Looking about the room Mark stops upon seeing a large box on legs.

'Is that?' Mark walks over to the large box, set in front of a set of chairs and a couch covered in dust. 'It is! I've only seen these things in museums and one in a hobby store. A cathode ray tube video-screen!'

Walking over, he runs a finger through the thin layer of dust covering the top of the faux wood paneling. A light gray curved glass screen takes up most of the front of it. Other than two plastic dials.

Looking around the rest of the room, he sighs. 'Well, beggars can't be choosers. It all seems to be in a similar state as this artifact. Worn, but unused, kept clean of trash.' With a sigh of relief, Mark sheds his backpack.

It hits the floor with a solid thunk. 'Structure is sturdy too.'

'Home for the next day I guess.' Walking over to a window facing the street at the front of the building, he parts a curtain, taking a peek outside. Only to let go of the curtain with a sigh. 'Shouldn't have turned on the flashlight if I wanted to keep my low light vision.' Walking back over to the couch, Mark dusts it off a spot and sits down.

Grumbling, Mark moves to a different part of the couch, Ignoring the dust. Then he just gives up and lays lengthwise on it before removing the gas-mask. Barely noticing the stale air after a few breaths. 'Not very comfortable, stuff with tail holes usually aren't.'

Dragging his backpack closer, he digs out a water bottle. Taking a large swig out of it, he sets it down next to the backpack, shuts off the flashlight, and closes his eyes to try to get some sleep.

Sifting from his side, then to his back, before laying on his other side, Mark lets out a sigh of frustration. 'Too worked up from that little encounter to get any sleep.' Sitting up, he puts the zootopian flashlight next to the water bottle, takes out the emergency one, flicking it on with a thumb.

The difference in their output is even more contrasted in the enclosed space.

Setting it on the floor, pointing to the ceiling, it casts the common area in enough of a dim light he can navigate most of the room while leaving it there. 'Even the colors are out of a museum exhibit of how houses in the middle of the nineteen forties and fifties looked.' Standing up, he stretches before walking around at the other near museum pieces in the room.

His curious inspection of a completely mechanical cash register in what looked to at one time be a small food stall in one corner of the room's interrupted suddenly.

The loud wail of police sirens, followed a few seconds later by piercing red and blue lights flood into the building. Sending him diving for the flashlight. 'SHIT! The bitch must've called the police anyway!'

Laying in the darkness, his heart pounds. 'Why haven't they stopped in front of the building?' Getting up, he slowly makes his way to the front windows.

Through the curtains, he can see them race by, two of them. Followed by what's clearly an ambulance. All three vehicles head deeper into Historical Zootopia, ignoring the building he's in.

Mark looks at the flashlight, his discarded gas-mask, and finally out in the direction the emergency vehicles went.

'God dammit!' Grabbing and slipping on the gas-mask, Mark pockets the keys and slots the flashlight into its holder on his waist. Leaving the backpack next to the couch, he quickly dashes out the side entrance and locks it behind himself.

'God Damn curiosity.'

Both the faint glow from their strobes and the fact he doesn't see anyone from across the street coming out to investigate makes him pause.

'Is it that bad of a neighborhood for cops to be such a regular occurrence that it warrants no response? Not even the wolf Betty is across the street at where she was earlier.' Considering no one seems to be paying attention, Mark casually leaves the alley, using the sidewalk to get closer to where the police went.

Walking past a library, and a gym. Mark ducks into another alleyway, this one behind what he hopes is 'not' a porn store.

Yet, considering the décor he saw on the front, it must be.

'Of course it's a bad neighborhood, what choice do I have if I want to have a roof over my head? It's the only place where you'll find empty buildings and no one will notice you going in.' Through the gloom of the alleyway he sees another convenience store and gas station.

There's a large rhino unfurling yellow crime scene tape around the lot. 'That's actually kinda comical seeing a police uniform on such a large animal.' A bear exits the convenience store, hauling a pair of raccoons dressed in casual but ill-fitting clothes to a police cruiser. One in each hand.

'Then again, so is a Tiger and Wolf.' Looking over at the two near the gas pumps. 'Yet another animal species I don't recognize. Those two with that sheep? Maybe a ewe as male sheep have horns and this one lacks them, right? Well, they look like hyenas, but they're too small. Either way, it's not like I can walk up and ask them.'

The doors to the convenience store open, and Mark's attention's drawn to the two deer in paramedic garb wheeling out a mammal on a stretcher with haste. 'Looks like it was some sort of robbery that ended with an injury to someone. Are the employees not allowed to defend themselves? Weird.'

As a few other mammals show up, he takes a step further back into the alley. 'Small felines, a red wolf, more than a handful of foxes. Huh a skunk with a baseball cap, should've been able to smell them well before this. Another wolf, no, the limbs are closer to human proportions weird.' The Rhino switches from taping off the scene to standing in between this group and the property.

“You're traitors!" One of the raccoons yells out as the Bear reaches his cruiser and waits, drawing Mark's attention to them and the Bear. The Rhino, seeing this. Abandons the crowd, walking over to the car. Then opens the door for Bear before making haste back to the crowd of onlookers.

Just in time to stop the weird limbed fox and skunk from crossing.

“All three of you are traitors, this Bear, that fur licker over there, and the tail sniffer with her! Helping those grass munchers keep us oppressed and in poverty."

Mark blinks and looks over to the tiger. 'Nothing about her frame screams female, at least what I can see from here…'

The Bear's muzzle scrunches, seeming to have had enough of the two of them. He shoves them into the back seat of the cruiser. “The only thing oppressing you two is your lack of being able to follow the law."

“Police brutality!" They both scream in unison as the Bear slams the door closed with a sigh that Mark can hear even from his location.

Said Bear looks over and waves to the Wolf and Tiger. “Hey, Wolfward, Fangmyer! Done with the witness statements? I want to get these two to lockup quickly. They're just going to get more annoying the longer they're in there."

'Guess the wolf's named Wolfward, too obvious, that makes the tiger Fangmyer. I wonder if these are the same ones from the movie. A big city like this has to have a larger department for each district than what was shown, so they may not be the same. Especially since the movie doesn't say Fangmyer's female.'

Wolfward looks over to the Bear. “Just about done Grizzolie."

Moments later a small car pulls up. A Goat and a small feline step out. Walking up to the Rhino they talk for a few minutes, show something to him, and he lets them past the police line. From there they head right for the convenience store.

'Must be the owners or forensics.' He shrugs, then eyes the weird fox. 'You know, if they were to stand next to a young Bio-Morph of the red fox breed, I'd be hard-pressed to tell the difference between the two.'

Wolfward and Fangmyer let the sheep and the hyena look a-likes go with a wave of their hands. Seeing them head in his direction, Mark backs up further. 'Of course they'd be heading this way, where else would they go.' Mark grumbles to himself.

Through the gloom he watches them cross the street, turn, then head down the sidewalk to pack street. Waiting a few moments after they're out of sight, only then does Mark approach the end of the alley, so he can continue watching the scene.

The police tape's still up, but both cruisers are now backing up onto the road. Signaling the tiny crowd to disperse.

'Sigh, can't go back the way I came, or the sheep and the other two mammals will see me. I'll just have to take a parallel street then cut across an alley to the side entrance.' Mark stands in the shadows, waiting for the last few onlookers to leave.

Once the scene is clear, he exits the alley and follows the sidewalk. Walking slowly as to not make too much noise with is boots.

The street paralleling Pack street's just another tenant and apartment filled affair.

'Is that?' Coming to a stop half a block away from where he needs to cut across, stands the skunk wearing the baseball cap, the long limbed fox, and a yellow taxi that the former is opening the passenger door to.

As the vehicle drives off, the long limbed fox waves, flips up the hood over their head, and sticks his hands in his pockets.

Mark's stomach suddenly growls. 'Sigh, all I have had is one of those nutrient bars in the last day. Nothing else, and I've been highly active. Sigh, I did make a plan on getting more substantial food…' He looks up to the slowly walking long limbed fox. 'Okay, lets do this.'

'First though…' Slowly he walks to one of the few working street-lights, then takes out a Plasma Shocker. 'Here's to hoping this will only stun him and not kill him.' With the light he Dials the voltage to what should be the proper amount for this weird fox's size.

Moving to the shadows, Mark slows his pace to a painfully slow one as to not make too much noise. 'Going to have to get rubber shoes or some kind of wrap for my feet. These boots aren't made for stealth. Only to attach to a ship's hull via magnets.' Slowly, in the span of a city block, he closes the distance.

Mark ducks behind a stone stairway, ignoring the damage his knees are doing to the strange rodent sized apartments. 'They're slowing down, this will be my chance.' The long limbed fox raises their phone to their ear as Mark raises his Plasma-Shocker.

Steadying his arms on the sloping side of the stairs.

“Yea I know a story about a local robbery isn't going to compete with the Chasofito story. It still can be run in the local section, and because of that I can get paid part of the reporter commission right?"

The reddish purple beam of cold plasma makes contact with the strange fox's shoulder a split second after Mark pulls the trigger. Instantly loosing control of all voluntary muscles, the long limbed fox collapses to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Their phone crashes to the pavement next to them.

'Please be alive. I just want to rob, not kill.' Ignoring the noise his boots are making, Mark dashes over to the long limbed fox.

Mark's eyes lock onto the terrified eyes of this strange fox through his gas-mask, unable to take the look in them he looks down a bit further. 'Sigh, good, they're alive.'

Noticing the strange fox's tongue is hanging out at an odd angle Mark gently moves it, so they don't swallow it and choke.

Seeing the phone next to him, he picks it up. 'Kinda feel sorry for causing them to break their phone, from that phone call they're probably a journalist. I recall reading they made good money before twenty-twenty stoking people's fears and such.' Dropping the phone onto the long limbed fox's stomach, Mark kneels down, sticking his arms under their body, then lifts them up.

'Ugh, heaver than you look…'

Walking a few feet over to the stairs, Mark gently places them into a sitting position on the steps while leaning against the railing. Making sure the strange fox's head's supported, and they won't fall once he lets go.

“There, this should keep you safe till the shock wears off. Sorry about your phone, and the whole hitting you with a taser thing, but you're a journalist of some kind so you could afford a new one easily. Just write some fluff peace about how some random thing is sexist or racist. Hmm would that be speciest here? Eh, whatever." With one hand Mark puts the phone in the strange fox's pocket, with the other he searches their other pockets before pulling out a wallet from one the pants pockets.

Looking up, Mark makes eye contact again, Their glare's filled with equal parts hate and fear now. 'Please don't look at me like that, I have little choice if I want to live and not be vivisected…' Turning his attention to the wallet, Mark makes a conscious effort to not look at the name on the driver's license inside.

'A male Chrysocyon brachyurus, wait, that's that one weird South American species that went extinct earlier in the century, a maned fox.' Mark looks at the maned fox and then back down at the wallet.

'Credit cards, wow they were big back in the early twenty-first century.' Mark ignores the puzzled look in the maned wolf's eyes. 'There we are, just what I need.' He takes out the forty dollars in the back of the wallet, closes the wallet back up, and sticks it in pocket he found it in.

Doing this causes the maned wolf's head to slip and rest against their shoulder at a bad angle, Mark gently reaches up and moves it back. Adjusting the hoodie so it will cushion it better.

“There you go. That should be comfortable till the shock wears off." Looking back and forth down the street.

“You should be fine laying there and in a few hours you should be able to walk." Pocketing the money, he stands, then crosses the street.

From there Mark back tracks about a block and a half to get to the other end of the alleyway that will lead him to the abandoned tenant building.

From there it's a short walk through an alley. 'Back home for now, forty dollars richer… Sigh.' Taking out the key's, Mark lets himself inside, and locks the door behind himself.

Taking out the flashlight, he flicks it on then heads on over to the couch, placing it on the floor in front of it like he did earlier, so it points up at the ceiling.

Slipping off the gas-mask, he casually tosses it onto the backpack, followed by his helmet. Mark sits down and removes his boots. Standing back up, it takes Mark longer to take the top of the combat suit off than putting it on.

Mainly due to all the wires he has to disconnect.

“I'm going to need some clothes. This suit is too bulky for day to day stuff. Sigh, that's going to require more money." Sighing and flopping back down onto the couch, he pulls out the forty dollars he just stole.

'Physical currency is weird.' Mark rubs the two bills between his fingers.

Flipping over the two twenty denomination bills in his hands, he shakes his head. 'Looks like the old American dollars before we went cashless, just with a buck's profile picture on the front and rather than the founders.'

Placing them on the couch next to himself, Mark pulls out his tablet from the storage slot.

'I think it's time to see if this can connect to any of the networks here, or if I'll have to get my hands on one of their phones. Either way, it's the only way I'll be able to buy things.' Opening it up with a flick of the wrist, he navigates to the appropriate program.

'Only a few networks nearby still, beggars can't be choosers. I'm lucky this can even see eighty year old networks. Just goes to show how eccentric some ship captains are.'

Picking the strongest signal out of the handful available, the Electronic Warfare Suite loads upon detecting encryption. 'Of course it's protected, shouldn't be too much of a problem though.' Letting it do its thing, Mark waits, then a few minutes later the tablet connects after decrypting the paraphrase.

'Yea this is before a wireless network includes information like location and owner. Could've been useful Just in case I damage something. Not like I could repay them now, it would be something I'd have to do later.' Closing the E.W.S. interface, Mark taps the icon for the network browser.

Only for spit out an error message saying it can't find his selected home site.

'Yea, of course 'address not found'. If this place parallel's home, Twenty-Nineteen is years before big-tech is broken up. Meaning it's years before any access point will serve up valid address.'

For a moment Mark lays his head against the back cushion of the couch, then looks down to the tablet. 'What was that giant tech company back in the early two thousands?' Bringing up the touch keyboard Mark types it in.

'Of course google isn't found. Not everything here has the same name as back home. Hell, maybe it doesn't even exist and one of the other early technology companies rose to become a giant.'

Tilting his head just a bit while staring at the stylish animal ears on the four oh four not found web-page. 'Maybe it does exist, but it's named after an animal pun. Like those cars earlier.'

Mark types in 'Beagle' resulting in another four oh four page. 'No, of course that wouldn't work. Beagles are domestic canine's, with no humans around there wasn't domestication.'

Typing in 'Ifetchit' also results in nothing as well, same with four other variations of google. Except Mark uses the first or last part of an animal's common species name to try to make it a clever sounding pun.

“Sigh, I need to use my rations sparingly, not my go too meal every day. I gonna hate myself more than I already do for robbing that maned wolf if I couldn't even find a single search engine." Moving from sitting to laying down on the couch, he props the tablet stand open and sets the whole thing on his chest.

Moving an arm under his head, Mark idly taps the screen with his hand on the other arm.

His finger stops mid tap a moment later. 'Why am I over thinking this? It has got to be some childish name, after all, this was a children's movie back home for Christ's sake! A kid isn't going to get a pun that requires you know the habits of the animal.'

Tapping in pawgle via the on screen keyboard yields an actual background different compared to the four-oh-four pages. 

For all a half a second.

The always running counter hack protection from the E.W.S. terminates the web-browser and replaces it with a bright red popup.

[Viral load terminated. Deploying countermeasures.]

Mark bolts upright, what little light from the few working streetlamps outside shut off, slightly darkening the room.

[Remote threat neutralized.]

Tossing the tablet onto the cushion, Mark dashes for the nearest curtain, then ever so slightly peeks out into the night.

“Holy shit! I think that just killed the power for the city block if not more…"

Gulping nervously as he sees residents across the street exit the building holding flashlights or candles. Both wolves, those weird not quite hyena ones, an actual hyena, a jackal, a fox, and two even smaller mammals he can't recognize from here.

Not to mention the various mammals from the neighboring buildings.

'Shit shit shit.' Letting go of the curtain as if it was on fire, he leaps for the flashlight and his tablet. Hurriedly turning them off.

'I think those rations are looking good all of a sudden.' Blindly grabbing one out of his backpack, then ripping it open, he gnaws on it till it's gone.

Tossing the wrapper onto the floor, not caring where it ends up, Mark lets out a deep but frustration filled breath. 'I have no clue on what triggered that, so I can't stop it from happening again. I'll just have to be more careful from now on, no more guessing website addresses.' Closing his eyes, he tries to force himself to relax.

'Their using this as an opportunity to have a party isn't helping.'

Before he knows it, the mid-morning sun wakes him as it spills inside through the curtains. Yawning and stretching, his face scrunches in discomfort. 'Damn my whole body hurts.'

Sitting up with a few pops of protest from his joints, Mark rubs the sleep from his eyes. Another yawn breaks free as he fishes out a water bottle and opens it.

A few gulps later, he stands and walks over to one of the curtains. With a single finger he gently parts them just a sliver and keeps through.

Sitting at the same spot as last night is 'Betty'. 'She's looking in my direction. Does she see me? Can she see me?' Only for a caracal to drunkenly walk out from underneath the window, then to the sidewalk. From there the feline stumbles down the street and out of sight.

Mark relaxes and sighs. 'No, just a drunk. So what is she doing out there if she isn't smoking or watching me?' Moving to another window he peeks out.

'Oh, guarding what they set up last night for their impromptu block party. Tables, grills… Is that an amplifier for an instrument?' Letting go of the curtain, the daylight highlights his bruises on his arm.

'Sigh. They're going from blue and purple to yellowish with some black. Great, I'll look even weirder now if they catch me like this. I mean, I know they bruise, just like animals back home. Except with all that fur they won't be visible as much.'

Wandering back over to the couch, Mark digs out the survival two-way radio. Pausing a moment, he checks the charge of the battery pack in his hand. 'Ninety percent, normally I would consider this basically charged… Except I'm not friendly territory, that ten percent can mean all the difference.'

Placing the battery to the side, the Plasma-Shocker batteries are next. 'The one I shot twice is down a quarter. Might as well use the daylight to charge both the radio and the shocker's battery the n, going to be homeless again come nightfall after all.'

Taking out the solar charger from the backpack, Mark carries it, and the batteries to a widow all the way on the other end of the lobby area. Setting the panel down, he aims it up at the window before detaching the transformer and charger from the back of the panel.

The short cable between the two allowing him to keep the batteries out from direct sunlight.

Slotting both batteries into the charger, they're secured with a solid click. Walking over to the window, he stands beside it and ever so slowly pulls the curtain back.

Just enough to let sunlight shine on the solar panel and no wider.

'That should do it. Just need to remember to move it every so often so it can stay in direct sunlight.' Sitting back down on the couch, he picks up the tablet, opens it, then lets out a groan. 'Less than forty percent, dammit.'

Pushing himself up to his feet, and taking the round about way around the room to avoid being seen through the window. Mark places the tablet on top of the charger. It beeps once upon finding itself placed on a charging pad.

Backing away with a sigh. 'Now what am I going to do to keep myself entertained till nightfall? Not to mention be quiet enough to not draw attention.' Walking over to the museum piece of a television, he walks behind it and finds the cord. Then plugs it into a nearby outlet on the floor. 'I'll kick myself if this works, then again my outlet charger for the tablet was back on the ship…'

Walking back around to the front of it. 'It's plugged in, and hopefully the power's on, so how do you turn it on? I don't see any power buttons. It's also too old for led lights, I think…'

Reaching out, Mark turns the channel nob, smiling at the satisfying mechanical click each time he rotates the dial a notch. 'Well, that didn't turn it on, what about the dial under it?'

Grabbing the lower dial, twisting it rewards Mark with a heavier and more satisfying click. Then it loses all resistance to being turned.

The slow hiss of static fills the room as the tube warms up, slowly displaying a static filled image. 'Sigh, I knew I should've carried my duffle bag with me while I did the gear checks, rather than dropping it off at my cabin. I'd be able to charge run the tablet right now if I had.'

Shaking his head a bit. 'No use dwelling on what I 'should've done' it's not going to change anything.' He twists this nob to the right, making the static noise louder. 'Okay that's volume. Now how to I find something to watch?'

Going the upper nob, Mark rotates it all the way around click by click, checking each notch on the dial. 'Televisions like this are supposed to pick something up right? Cities like this should have at least a couple broadcast stations. Maybe it's broken? Would just be my luck if it was considering the past few days.'

Grumbling, he turns it off. 'Hours to dusk and it's going to take nearly that long for everything to fully charge.' Standing up, he looks around the room a bit.

'Lets do a little exploring, beats sitting on the couch doing nothing. Besides, the place might have something neat, like the mechanical cash register. Never knew they made such things.' Picking up the survival flashlight, Mark heads deeper into the tenant building using the hallway in the back of the common room.

–

Tossing the flashlight onto the couch, Mark collapses onto the couch next to it, laying his head against the backrest. 'Every other room in this building is empty, not to mention by the third floor the ceiling is about as low as the Hopp's parking garage.' Glancing at the solar panel, Mark grumbles and goes over to nudge it back into direct sunlight with his foot.

'If this is any indication, I'm going to have to find something to do or I'm going to go crazy within a week. Let alone until tonight when I have to go find another place to stay.'

Picking up the charged battery of the two, he slots it into the two-way radio and finds a station to listen to, pausing at a news station.

“It's only mid-afternoon? Sigh." Tossing the radio onto the couch, Mark paces the room. Only coming to a stop when they reach local news.

'Oh, so that's why the lights went out, the site that the E.W.S. took out shared the same server space as the district's electricity supplier. Knocking it out took the power out too.' Walking over to the radio, he changes it to a music station.

'Might as well do something a bit more productive than pacing.' Heading over to a more empty area of the room, Mark starts doing push-ups, then sit-ups, followed by squats.

When that gets boring and his limbs start to ache, he switches to practicing martial art stances and moves he can practice without a training partner.

Mid move, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. 'Huh? Is someone watching me again?' Walking over to one of the other curtained windows, he parts it with a finger-tip.

'Could've sworn I felt someone watching me?' Checking a few other windows, then, the side door. 'Weird. They're all closed, covered and locked.'

'I must be losing it, I guess I'm too used to doing 'something' rather than having nothing to do. On the ship there were combat drills, common room activities, and enough people you could spar and train most of your downtime away.'

Flopping back onto the couch while grabbing the water bottle, he gulps down several mouthfuls of water.

'I should try to find out more about this place.' Glancing at the radio playing a slightly different version of a classic song than he's used to hearing.

'Sigh, more than I can learn via that. Maybe look through someone's phone after I stun them? Wish I thought of that before I tasered the maned wolf, or I would've waited till he pocketed it.'

Placing the water bottle on the floor, he stares at the late after-noon sun streaming in through the windows. 'Still several hours to go, and I've already worked up a bit of an appetite. I'll end up eating through my rations too quickly if I keep this level of activity up.'

Kicking the couch a bit as he gets up. 'It's a risk, but it's better than staring off into space.'

Grabbing what looked to be a cushioned stool at one point from behind the counter. Mark sits down next to one of the windows just out of sight from someone looking in as he parts the curtain.

'That wolf, Betty isn't out there, so I guess she's not what gave me that feeling earlier.' Shutting the drapes when he hears a car approach. Through the small slit between the curtain and the wall it's easy to see the car is as run down as the neighborhood is.

After it passes, he moves the curtain open again.

'Another wolf? This one white? They seem even bigger than the one called Betty.' Mark watches as they, while wearing dirty work coveralls, head into the tenant building across the street.

'So that's where that sheep lives, good thing I went the way I did then.' Said sheep exits the same building with a hyena carrying a guitar. They turn and head down the street, out of view from the window.

'I wonder how good a player that hyena is. Would they even need a guitar pick with their claws?' Other mammals seem to start walking by as the sun dips towards the horizon.

'Guess it's past quitting time for the day shift, so they're all heading home.' Reaching up, he scratches the side of his chin, wincing at the stubble, only to stop as a thought occurs to him.

'Wait, is everyone here a predator or omnivore species? I know the film tried to equate predators with non-white races while not thinking about the connotations it created in general. Especially given how one of the old political parties tried to keep them on a mental plantation…' Sighing, he lays his chin in his hands as his elbows rest on his knees.

By the time the dun dips behind the taller buildings in the distance, the crowd has thinned. 'Well, guess my entertainment's over, time to get going.' Standing up, he packs up the solar charger and the now charged batteries and tablet.

With it stowed away, he puts the rest of his combat suit on. 'You know if I ever get back, I'm suggesting some kind of under-suit. Considering I would still have to do one more tour.' Slipping the helmet on, he then slots the tablet into its slot. The hud appearing as he picks up the gas-mask, sliding it place.

Eyeing the dimming light coming in from outside signaling dusk, he goes about picking up his trash. Mainly the empty wrappers for the rations.

Pausing for a moment, he looks around. 'Crap, where did that last wrapper go of too? I know they're supposed to bio-degrade. I'm still going to be polite and not leave trash strewn about after being let in here on Betty's good graces when she could've just told me to leave.'

Eyeing the window and the now lack of sunlight streaming in, telling him his time is up. Mark takes a quick look under the couch. 'Dammit, not there and I'm out of time.'

Hefting up the backpack, Mark shoulders it with a grunt and pulls the keys out. 'Would've been a good place to stay for weeks, if not months, but I can understand if Betty doesn't want a vagabond crashing here.' Walking over to the side door, he exits, and locks it behind himself.

Turning he slowly heads for the front of the building. 'Oh now they complain, not after all the activity I did earlier.' Wincing at how his shoulder protests the weight of the backpack.

Once out onto the sidewalk, he looks about. 'Huh, so she's actually trusting me to leave the keys where she told me too. Half expected her to be here to take them from me personally.'

Climbing the front steps, it takes him a moment to find the loose brick. Pulling it out and placing the keys in the hole, Mark gently pushes the brick back in place.

'Even with the keys there, it barely sticks out from the rest of the brickwork, entirely miss-able if I didn't know what to look for.' Turning around and looking across the street he shakes his head.

'Too trusting. She's lucky that mom and dad raised me to keep my deals. I know quite a few people who would take advantage of her trust.'

Sighing, he descends the stairs and walks down pack street. Upon reaching the convenience store from last night, he stops and looks around. 'Might as well just continue down this street.'

Crossing the street just out of sight from its bright lights, he keeps to the shadows and follows the street further into the 'happy town' district. 'Here's to hoping I find another abandoned building to stay in. though I may just have to try to rough it in some under brush.'

Following the road as it curves, residential buildings give way to older, less fancy and half collapsed industrial buildings. Along with a large empty lot. 'And I had to open my big mouth so to speak. Those buildings unsafe stay in, so underbrush it is.'

Pulling out the dimmer, zootopian made flashlight, Mark flicks it on and trudges into the empty lot and the over grown vegetation it contains.

'Home sweet home, I guess. Sigh, wish I was able to grab that tent before the pod sank…'