Looking for a captivating story to write for his job as a journalist, Splinter Kusanagi was out and about, trying to find all kinds of scoops on what big things were happening in Alpha City. His chief editor so far was uninterested in what he was bringing in for the past several weeks, complaining that his stories weren't "juicy" enough to press. In Splinter's mind, the sudden drop in stock rates for Wolf's Wearhouse was something to definitely bring to attention as a lot of people in the area shop from there on a daily basis. However, in his editor's mind, if no one's reputation is in jeopardy, then it isn't worth looking at. So sick of this, the 20 year old dragon wolf decides to take some time off as a means of getting his thoughts together and who knows, maybe he might get something "juicy" to write about in his off-time. So far its been a day since he has requested time off of his job and by some sheer amount of luck, they were able to give him a week off, but on one condition: he would need to find a story worth-while, and if not, then he would be back to the printing press, never to see another notepad and pen for the rest of his career. With time running out, the lone wolf dragon returns home after driving about the city in search of something to record, and so far nothing seemed to have caught the eye to him. Street performances? People see those almost every day. Police chases? The traffic is always too hectic to actually record any of it, let alone keep up with the chase. Sighing with the recurring thought of being a printer-press pup for a long while, he sets his notepad and camera down at his desk in his office room. Sitting down, finally resting his sore ankles and hind paw pads, he raises his right foot up to his left knee to begin rubbing it gently, getting the pain out while panting lightly. "How hard is it to find a decent story?" He asked while facing down at his right sore hind paw. He then sighs while shaking his head, feeling a bit disappointed in himself doing it again. "I'm talking to a foot." His thoughts are then interrupted as soon as he hears his phone ringing just next to his computer. Lifting the receiver to his ear, he grabs his foot with his other paw in an attempt to get comfortable before answering the person on the other line, "Hello, you've reached Splinter Kusanagi. If you've got a compelling story for me to write, then I'm your dragonwolf." He then hears the sound of a feminine voice speak on the other line, one that he's never heard before.
"Mr. Kusanagi, my name is Sandra Bell." Said the voice on the other line.
"Miss Bell? Hi, this is Splinter. What can I do for you?" He asked while reaching for a nearby pen to record her name down onto a list of potential clients willing to spill a story for him.
"Well you see... it's about my husband, Cody and my daughter, Bella. They've been acting rather... differently towards each other for the past week."
"Well, how 'different' are we talking here, Miss Bell because I'm not really the one for playing nanny." He asked while spinning the pen he was holding around his four digits, laughing a little bit with her on the line from the small joke he made.
"No, no." She chuckles, "Its nothing like that, don't worry." She then stops for a moment, confusing Splinter for awhile, almost causing him to say "Hello" into the receiver before hearing her continue, "But, the best way I can describe it is that they seem..." She pauses again, starting to get a rather impatient Splinter worked up before continuing yet again, "how do I put this? They seem very 'intimate' with one another at times, as if they're dating." This, of course, gets the attention of the black and red dragonwolf hybrid as he grabs his notepad and pen, flipping to a clean page to record some notes down, starting with "possible incest."
"I'm listening, Sandra. Go ahead." A number of thoughts go on through his head as he writes down some other details, one of them being her practice of stopping in between her sentences but picking up before he could say anything.
"So far, that's all I've got to go on. Nothing else really comes to mind, other than Cody's eyes glowing violet at certain times when his eyes are normally light blue." Splinter shrugs his shoulders and says,
"Well, a lot of different animals around here have their eyes change colour depending on their mood or something like that. You sure he's not one of those guys?" Again, she remains silent for a considerable amount of time, finally starting to respond just before he can say anything else.
"I've been married to him for close to six years. I would've at least noticed this throughout all our time together." She responded.
"That's a bit odd. When did you notice this start to happen?"
"Ever since he came home late the other night."
"Does he act strange at all when his eyes just change colour?"
"I'm... not sure. Whenever they change, he's normally around our daughter, Bella."
"And, what colour are her eyes?"
"Blue, just like his."
"Do her eyes change colour at all?"
"I... I'm not sure..." Splinter then looks confused a little.
"How old is your daughter?"
"She's sixteen years old." He then looks even more confused. How do you not know if your daughter's eyes change colour and she's sixteen?
"Do your eyes change colour at all?"
"Never. My eyes are blue as well." The dragonwolf then writes down more notes onto his pad and then steers the topic somewhere else. What he's also noticed is that her tendency take longer than usual to respond has stopped.
"Hmm, this doesn't add up. Are you sure about all of this?" He notices she doesn't respond for quite awhile. Damn it, I jinxed it, "Hello?"
"Well... you see, Splinter... I think that maybe you should stay over and see for yourself, just to see that I'm not lying." Sandra's voice then began to sound a bit worried, as if she were being chased down or something.
"Sandra, are you okay? You don't sound too--"
"I'm okay, just... hurry over. The address is 1102, Wolves Haven Ave. I need to go. I hope to speak with you soon, Mr. Kusanagi." She then hangs up the phone, leaving Splinter a little confused. Why did she sound so worried towards the end? Was she feeling like she was being watched? Is she paranoid about her husband and daughter finding out that she ratted them out? Maybe that's the reason behind her pausing so much in between responses - she was trying to keep an ear open in case one of them happened to be eavesdropping.
"I would suggest the latter since it makes the most sense, but--" Suddenly, he hears his doorbell ring, making him get out of his chair to see who it was. Looking through the peephole, he could see it was an ACPS (Alpha City Postal Service) delivery eagle at his door, holding a medium-sized box in his claws. Strange since he didn't remember ordering anything online, let alone expecting a package from anyone. Still a bit unsure about what's going on, he decides to go along with it. Unlocking the door before opening it, he is then asked by the eagle if he was Splinter Kusanagi, "The one and only." He answered before being handed a clipboard and a pen.
"Just sign your initials here." The eagle points to the dotted line at the bottom of the paper just before Splinter takes both items and does what's instructed.
"There we are, and done." He hands both items back to him and he is then given the box. It was fairly light and felt almost as light as air, making him all the more curious as to what was inside.
"Have a good evening, Mr. Kusanagi." Said the eagle before leaving down the hall of the apartment.
"Likewise." Said Splinter before shutting the door, seeing the forward address matching his residence. "Well, at least its not the wrong address this time." Just before opening his package however, he notices something odd about the return address on the underside of the box. "1102, Wolve's Haven Ave.?" That's the same address Sandra Bell gave him just before hanging up. Taking precautionary measures this time, he shakes the box a bit, not hearing any rattling sounds come from it. Looking toward the wall in front of him, he gets an idea and then throws it against the wall, hearing it slam hard against it, but nothing out of the ordinary happens to it. Hesitant in wanting to open it, he picks up the package and then grabs his box-cutter knife from one of his kitchen drawers, steadily tearing through the tape. After carefully cutting through the tape, he flips open both flaps to then remove the next two flaps to reveal a manilla envelope with his name written on it in cursive handwriting. He flips the envelope around, seeing nothing written there, leaving him to do just one thing only: to see what was inside. Pulling back the metal pins keeping the envelope closed, he puts his fingers inside, opening it to reveal a handwritten note and several photographs. Leaving the photos for last, he reads what was on the note: "Dear Mr. Kusanagi, I am certain that the photos included will be enough for you to continue with your story. If you so happen to feel intimidated by said photos, then please, by all means, send these photographs to the authorities for if I happen to do so, then I fear that my days will be numbered. You have my thanks. Sincerely, Sandra Bell." Splinter feels a little off-put from the tone of the letter, as though it were a last desperate attempt at trying to reach for some sort of help. Setting the letter down, he reaches into the envelope to pull out one photo revealing a red fox and a blue winged vixen, performing what could only be described as some kind of intercourse, but instead... with the vixen on top and the fox at the bottom. Generally disturbed by the nature of the photograph, he sets it down, not wanting to see the others, but swallows his pride and presses onward. The next few photos were of the same thing, except the positions were different: these depicted the fox "eating" the vixen out, looking very fatigued and out of breath, his eyes were glowing violet as Sandra mentioned in one of the photos, giving Splinter an idea. "Is this her husband and her daughter actually..." Rushing into his office, he grabs his pad and pen, crossing out the word "possible" and writing over it "confirmed" as what he was seeing was proof in all of itself. Taking deep breaths to try and calm his nerves, he puts the photos and note back into the envelope, closing it up to then put into his backpack which he will bring to the address to store away more evidence supporting the story if it so happens to crop up. After doing so however, he begins to question himself on whether or not he should go through it with this. "This feels like something a detective or private investigator would go into." He expresses to himself while sitting back in his chair, "And, I'm none of those things-- I'm just a journalist and photographer." His thoughts then fall back in his career. Yes, he could give this possible "evidence" to the police, but by doing so, he would be handing away what could be the story of the year. Setting his ears back as he rests his head on the back of his chair, he sighs while staring up at the ceiling, contemplating on whether to stay, or to go whilst hearing the sound of helicopter blades whizzing past his apartment, accompanied by the sound of sirens echoing through the city. Well, this is definitely up my editor and cheif's alley. Either choice I take will surely ruin someone's reputation. But, what if there's more to it than this? Yeah, its a father having close relations with his underage daughter, what's deeper than that? His eyes turn violet when he's with her, that much is true, but why do they turn violet? Is it an emotional response? If I give these photos and the note to the police, then I'll more than likely be left in the dark about these details since the police like to be very secretive about their cases and whatnot. But at the same time, is me risking my neck for possibly finding some answers really worth it? With that thought recurring in his mind, he sits back up in his chair and sighs, not really wanting to get up since his hind paws still ached from his constant meandering around town that day. Finally mustering the will power to get himself up, he takes his essentials with him while grabbing his leather coat to keep him warm since he wasn't sure how long this would take and having an added source of warmth couldn't hurt since it was expected to start snowing that night. While exiting his apartment, he gets back onto his motorbike and starts the engine. While putting on his helmet, he sighs as he takes the kickstand off, "I cannot believe I am doing this." He then takes off from his parking space and begins heading toward the address Sandra gave him, hoping that somehow all this wouldn't end up getting him harmed.