[hr][centre][h2][color=7ea7d8]Harrison Oak[/color][/h2]
[img]https://33.media.tumblr.com/83bd439c74220d51defbf0da7983cf93/tumblr_mo2oadXe6G1r2s4ero1_250.gif[/img]

[hr]Date: August 1st 2017
Location: Paradise Hostel – Brooklynn, New York
Time: 1900
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Dorm 3. 

Oak stared at the door number in the run-down building. The fake bronze plate was barely hanging onto the door and had lost most of its coating. Maybe once he opened this door into his new lodgings he would find that outside appearances could be deceiving, but he doubted it. He was staying in the cheapest hostel he could find, and he’d get what he’d paid for. Cheap looking brown carpet that had not been hoovered in a long time, peeling wallpaper and old dirty looking wall sconces. He stuck in the key into the rusty lock and rattled it around for a few seconds before managing to find the sweet spot. Pushing open the door revealed a large untidy room containing half a dozen bunk beds, a couple of shared drawers, and a couple of his new roommates. There were two north facing windows that were covered by drawn black-out curtains, making the room look very dark and gloomy. He took a single step in before being hit by a mixed-aroma of weed, body odour and damp, causing him to instinctively step back out. 

“It’s only for a couple of weeks whilst I do this job.” He reminded himself silently, grimacing over his surroundings. He wasn’t exactly flush with cash at that moment, and given that he was here for an indeterminate amount of time it made sense to go for somewhere cheap where he didn’t have to worry about contracts or anything. Though personal privacy was a big price to pay. 

“You the new guy?” piped up a voice from an unseen individual on a lower bunk. Oak took a few more steps in so he could see the face of the guy speaking. A youngish man laid on a bottom bunk in the corner of the room, his black quilt hiding all but his head, which was covered in dreadlocks. “That bunk over there is the only one not occupied, so I guess it’s yours.” And with that gave a nod to the one in the adjacent corner. 

“Thanks buddy” Oak replied with a tip of his black fedora. He went over to the bunk bed and slid his charcoal padlocked suit-case underneath the bed, marking the top of it with one of his dark eyes as he did so. To him it seemed like a faint black eye, similar to his birthmark, but he knew that others wouldn’t be able to see it (at least no-one he knew of). He imagined it would be relatively safe in the dorm, as there would have to be a level of mutual trust between the inhabitants, but at least if it came to the worst and someone snatched his stuff he’d be able to find them. He then sat on his new bed, immediately feeling the wooden beams beneath the mattress and wondered how the bed managed to be worse than the one he’d had in prison. He then looked back up towards the friendly guy from before. However, on closer inspection he noticed movement from under the covers and a second pair of feet poking from the bottom. Again, his mind then wondered back to when he was in prison. “Ah! Time for me to go explore the city” he said hastily as he jumped to his feet and headed to the door. He wasn’t in the mood for a show, and it seemed like a good time to get his bearings. 

[centre][hr]Date: August 1st 2017
Location: Happy Dinner – Brooklynn, New York
Time: 1930
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Oak sat alone on a two person table in the middle of a fairly busy diner. As he was in America for the first time, he felt obliged to try out what he hoped was an authentic American diner and scoff down as much heart-attack fuel as possible. He was waiting on his “Unbeatable 7 Oz. Fonzie Twin Double Cheese Burger w/ Extra Bacon” and passed the time by taking the odd sip of his chocolate shake and researching his target on his smart phone. 

Melisa Mayweather was her name. 19 years old. Female. Her parents both corporate lawyers and filled to the brim with cash. She on the other hand was somewhat unskilled and rebellious. She ran away from home seemingly of her own volition, and there was no evidence to say she was at risk of harm, which was why the police were unable to help. Her parents claimed that she had become obsessed with the occult and believed herself to be a witch. On the balance of probability, she was likely to just be unstable – but given what Oak was capable of, he couldn’t rule out any possibility. 

Using a VPN and TOR, Oak logged onto a fake facebook account that he had created. Using information provided by her parents, he made a profile of a non-existence guy that went to the same school as Melisa and was in the same year. Although she clearly didn’t actually know him, it was enough for her to accept his invite. For someone that had run away, she wasn’t doing a great job at hiding her tracks. She checked in just the night before at a bar in Manhattan, which is where Oak would be chasing leads after he had eaten his grub. She tagged a couple of friends in the post too, who’s profiles he was able to check out. Already he had a few photos and leads to chase. 

“Here’s your food sugar. Can I get you anything else?” said a buxom blond waistress in a red polkadot apron as she placed down his plate. Oak could not help but smile at the cliché, but figured it was probably an intentional part of the service. 

“I’m fine thank you, it looks delicious” he replied before digging in. As he savoured the tender meat, the crispy salad and the fluffy bun, he found himself looking up at one of the many TV screens and caught a glimpse of a news story regarding a train accident.