[h1][b][i][color=MediumSpringGreen][center]James Kingston[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://media1.tenor.com/images/a951ce5c42e723327265741536b013a0/tenor.gif?itemid=7976965[/img][/center]
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[center][color=MediumSpringGreen][b]Location[/b][/color]: The Warehouse ([color=Mediumspringgreen]I2[/color] to [color=Mediumspringgreen]K9[/color])
[color=MediumSpringGreen][b]Skills[/b][/color]: N/A[/center]
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[color=Mediumspringgreen]“Your… friend. Well, hopefully your friend can help us find my parts. Sooner we do, sooner we can bounce.”[/color] James pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally reviewing his previous examination. [color=Mediumspringgreen] “I need a bag of wire nuts, they look like pen caps with ridges and plane wings sometimes, and a bag of crimp wire connectors, little blue, red, and yellow tubes about this long,”[/color] He held his fingers about three inches apart as he continued, [color=mediumspringgreen] “I need some heat shrink tubing to patch up the waterproof insulation, big box with lots of colors. They’re a bit longer than the crimp connectors. I need wire strippers, like thick pliers with lots of ridges in the tip, and a few rolls of electrical tape.”[/color]

[color=Mediumspringgreen]“And for the really fun part, two new generators.”[/color] James grimaced at the thought. [color=Mediumspringgreen] “Or at the very least, two alternators, two volt regulators, and sixteen field polls preferably with coils already. I can do without them but the corrosion inside is probably going to kill anything I fix so these will get you a few more months to hunt something down at best.”[/color] He looked around, noting the condition of the place. He was going to have to clean [i]everything[/i] before he tried to install it. He sighed. The worst. 

He made his way over to the computer, booting it up so he can find the warehouse’s manifest. 

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[center][h1][b][i][color=F2C31A]Requiem[/color][/i][/b][/h1][/center]
[center][IMG]http://i65.tinypic.com/eskaxi.jpg[/IMG][/center]
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[center][color=F2C31A][b]Location[/b][/color]: The Luxury
[color=F2C31A][b]Skills[/b][/color]: N/A[/center]

How convenient. Dumping the body somewhere it wouldn’t come up and then using the individual’s personal media would have made an excellent goose chase but either their quarry didn’t particularly care about a prospective investigation or was an optimistic idiot. He would love the latter―optimistics were idiots and easily dealt with―but a sneaking suspicion told him he’d have to prepare against the Black King by the end of this. He finished his drink with an easy smile. Requiem always loved a good game. He stood, exchanging the empty glass for the bracelet.

 [color=F2C31A]“Then I believe our time together must end.”[/color] Requiem said with a half bow. [color=F2C31A] “We will report back once we’ve determined the identity of our quarry. Thank you for your hospitality. Come along Jinx.”[/color] Requiem picked up his cane and made his way steadily off the boat, Ms. Frost’s headquarters his next destination.