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1. PEST CONTROL (random street encounters/OPEN)
The day is nicer than Ghoul expected. A little cloudy, but not as bitterly cold or ice-hazardous as he assumed London would be. Still, he's bundled up in at least a couple layers of clothes because, frankly, fuck anything below 60 degrees. He looks a little comical, plodding along the sidewalk in his ridiculous puffy coat, a scarf devouring half his face, and a small dog prancing around his heels.

Wait, what the fuck.

Ghoul's partway down the block before he realizes he has company. It's a tiny, ugly thing in a fucking sweater that yaps whenever he stops to look at it, and it won't go away. No matter what shooing and direction-changing techniques he uses against it, it's still right there, lunging after him with its yipping and bouncing gradually increasing in intensity. He normally doesn't have this not-listening issue with dogs, being a werewolf and all. He's like the king of dogs, okay, but this little bastard has balls of steel beneath that lavender argyle. And that just won't do.

He backtracks, confronting anyone who may be even be remotely responsible for the animal- people sitting outside cafes, lingering in a group somewhere, on a bench, waiting for a crosswalk signal. Everyone in the area will, eventually, have him storm up and ask, "Is this yours?" while pointing at the pastel abomination below.

2. THIS IS MINE NOW (coffee shop/OPEN)
Ghoul had specifically waited for evening to roll around before hitting up this little coffee place, hoping to avoid a rush. Fail on that count. From what he can gather, 5PM is a great time to huddle around in shops and wait for traffic to fuck off.

He sees the logic in it now, but that doesn't mean he appreciates it. Not when he's stuck in a small crowd of too-close bodies clumped around the pickup area and waiting for his order to be called. There are a few names shouted in rapid succession soon enough, including the fake one he'd given the cashier. In his haste to get out of there, he grabs a cup from the almost entirely identical line of them, then makes off with it without a second glance.

It's not his order after all, but whatever. He'll figure that out at some point.

[ or pm/pp/throw your own starter at me! ]

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"Dear lord -- I mean, no, it's not my dog."

He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen a sweater that horrid, outside of a plaid nightmare his friends had tried to force him into one drunken evening.

"I'm assuming it's not yours, either? Though I can understand why you're trying to get rid of it."

"Fuck." The word's out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Cut him some slack, this is like the millionth time he's been shot down.

"Yeah, no, it ain't mine." With a sigh, he looks down at the animal- now sniffing curiously around Sirius' legs. Good. Maybe it'll decide it likes him better. Couldn't hurt to help things along, though... He glances back up at the guy with an encouraging expression. "Aw, look, it wants to stay with you. You should take it. You look like a dog person." Hah.

Sirius sighs. While he was generally fond of the form that he shifted into, he had to admit that there were some drawbacks.

"While, I admit, you would not be wrong in that assumption, it barely qualifies as a dog really, so it really wouldn't be a good fit."

Ghoul almost looks like he's melting for a second. He sort of sags awkwardly at the shoulders, purely in disappointment. No takers, no leads... he's never going to be rid of this thing. He'll end up having to keep it and then he'll fucking eat it when the full moon rolls around.

Gross.

The expression on his face twisted in to a look of distaste at some point during that gruesome train of thought, but he tries to smooth it back out before he speaks again. "Okay, okay. You didn't see anybody with it earlier either, right?"

Sirius would say that he almost feels bad for the guy, but...okay he does feel bad. Being saddled with the task of tracking down a dog's owner isn't an easy task and at the very least, he could help with that. Rather than taking the dog off his hands entirely.

He closes his eyes, making it look as if he's thinking. And he is, but mostly he's trying to pick up the scents, once again trusting his nose. Eventually something tickles his nose and recalls a very strong perfume from early that day. It would make sense.

"You know, you're in luck! I think I might have actually."

For a minute there, Ghoul wonders if this is the guy's way of brushing him off. He tilts his head, watching him with a fair degree of uncertainty until Sirius dangles a possible clue in front of him. That perks him right back up. "For real? You remember what they look like, or anything?"

Even something as simple as a hair color would make the search easier.

"Not quite. But I do remember they had a very strong perfume on and I think that they were walking...."

He pauses, trying to catch the scent and hoping that it's not too long gone. it definitely wasn't magic so the chance it lingering is low. Finally he thinks he catches a whiff and points.

"That way."

Ghoul almost feels like the guy's yanking his chain, but he's also reaching that stage of desperation where even a false lead is better than nothing. At this point, Sirius could tell him that he'd seen Abraham Lincoln with the dog earlier, and he'd accept it.

So, rather than eyeing him suspiciously or calling his bluff, Ghoul swoops downwards. He slides both arms around the animal and lifts it easily, and when he stands back upright, the little thing is hugged against him back-to-chest with its stupid tail flapping happily. "Thanks, man." Both Ghoul and the dog seem to be grinning at him for a second, then he's already taking eager steps in the pointed direction.

"You're welcome," Sirius replies, as the guy with the dog heads off. He pauses, turning to head off in the direction he was originally heading before turning around with a sigh. Now he's kind of curious to see if he was right, and heads off after them.

It's certainly not because he's trying to be helpful.

Ghoul doesn't realize he's got a tag-along... not yet. But the further he goes, the more he wonders how he's going to pull this one off. There are... a lot of people with perfume on, probably, and it would be completely weird to just go up and start sniffing strangers. Especially since he has no idea what specific one he's supposed to be looking for.

Still, it's something. The dog could at least fucking help, though. This is its problem, after all.

He glances down at it, where it's still hanging out in his arms without a care in the world, and gives it a light squeeze. "Why don't you put in some fuckin' work and point the way?" Ghoul lets a few seconds of silence fall there. Like the stupid thing is actually going to answer him. "You're useless."

"Well, that's not very nice," Sirius says, coming up behind him. He had intended on hanging back and watching, but he supposed he ought to stand up for the dog, again though it barely qualified in his mind. If he could just get rid of that sweater, maybe.

"You have to let him have some time to work it out."

Oh, great. A witness to his one-sided conversation with an overgrown rat in a sweater.

He steps off to the side, out of the way of sidewalk traffic, and slows to a stop so he can get a good look at Sirius before shrugging. "Yeah, well. I never said I was nice." The little smirk that accompanies that statement is probably supposed to be edgy or something, but who knows how it actually comes across.

"Don't think eavesdropping is very nice either, y'know." The dog doesn't seem all that bothered by it, though.

"Hardly eavesdropping when all I caught was that last bit of conversation," Sirius replied. "One sided as it was."

It had taken him a little bit to catch up, and while his hearing was decent, he wasn't trying to necessarily listen in to any obscenities tossed in the dog's direction.

"But maybe it was a good thing, if you're not nice and I need to be a witness to potential animal cruelty."

"You'd snitch on me?" Not that there's any actual need to be worried. Ghoul is guilty of many crimes, but animal abuse is definitely not one of them. Still...

Look at all of that disapproval, Sirius. It's almost entirely in jest, but all the same. Look at it. "Seriously? We're practically related, you can't treat me like that." That's what his nose is telling him. Could be wrong.

So the scent he'd caught earlier wasn't his imagination. That was good to know. He never wanted to say anything, just in case he'd managed to get something wrong, and there was no need to scare an innocent person. Mostly.

"You obviously haven't met my family," Sirius replied. Animal cruelty was probably among the least of their crimes. "But since I am something of a black sheep, I suppose I can let you go for now."

Though he'll stick around, mostly because he's interested in who exactly owns the ridiculous dog.

"A black sheep?" That gets an odd look. "What, you come from a family of cougars or somethin'?" It's a careful play on words, sort of, just in case a stray ear catches part of the conversation. Let 'em think Ghoul is talking about amorously aggressive older women, whatever. He'd pegged Sirius as something canine, and that's the easiest way for him to ask whether he's the only dog in the family.

He's not sure if that's even possible- different family members shifting in to different animals, thus the curiosity.

"Figure of speech," Sirius clarifies, though he catches Ghoul's meaning. "Afraid we're mostly cut from the same cloth as it were." And he indicates the dog. Though he's also fairly certain that his portion of the proverbial cloth has likely been burned to ash.

"But enough about them, shall we continue the search?"

"Oh, yeah, 'course." Ghoul doesn't take off just yet, though.

He's looking thoughtfully down at the dog, then he glances up at Sirius. Tracking the owner by perfume, huh.

Better make sure Sirius is real set on the trail. "You need like a scent refresher first?" Ghoul rearranges the dog in his arms, holding it up to Sirius a moment later. There's probably perfume on its sweater, but Ghoul's going to be god damned if he's caught literally smelling a dog.

Sirius can take that honor.

SIrius is not thrilled by the prospect either. If he was in his other form, sure, that wouldn't really be a problem, but as a human he does have some dignity. He winces, shaking his head.

"Think I'm good, thanks. It's not a scent one easily forgets."

"Aw, fine." Too bad. Would've been funny.

He pulls the dog back towards himself, repositioning it once again. This time, it ends up facing backwards with its front paws hooked over Ghoul's shoulder. It's something like how a baby would be held, which Ghoul feels is fitting for such a crybaby animal. "C'mon then, Lassie." He jerks his head in the appropriate direction before he starts to walk. "We got a fuckin' Timmy to find."

"Hopefully the owner hasn't fallen down a well."

Which seemed unlikely, given where they were. But when you dealt with the supernatural, anything was possible, Sirius knew.

He followed, though part of his attention was on his nose, sifting through the scents and trying to make sure he was following the right one.

"That'd be fine." He shrugs, patting the dog's back as they move. "We can just drop this sucker down there with 'em and call it a day."

He's joking.

...Probably.

He's quiet after that, brow furrowed in concentration. He may not know what, exactly, they're supposed to be tracking, but he can try. However, his curse has only been active for a relatively short time. He's still learning, and as such, it's hard for him to latch on to a specific scent. Some are also a little too strong for him to focus on without consequences. Case in point, he gets a whiff of something that causes him to flinch back and sneeze harshly.

It's been a pretty common problem.

"Once again, I mention my concerns about needing to be a witness in the event of animal cruelty."

Although it would certainly solve the problem.

"You alright?" Sirius asks, in response to the sneeze. "That is pretty strong, but I'm surprised you didn't catch it earlier. It's been lingering for about a block."

Ghoul sniffles a bit, shielding the lower half of his face with the forearm not currently supporting the dog. "I'm fine," he huffs out, although he sounds pretty miserable. Turning has been the worst thing to ever happen to his sinuses.

"And fuck off, it's hard." Pinpointing a specific smell, that is. "You ever watch one of those youtube videos where it plays every song made by a band at the same time? Shit's like that. All..." He pulls the arm away from his face, waving it vaguely in the air. "Muddy."

"I'm familiar, trust me," Sirius replies. "Generally it helps if you focus on one scent, and try not to get distracted by the others. Kinda like if you're listening to a crowd and only focus on one conversation."

He knows the muddy feeling though. It usually happens if he's caught of guard, but he's trained himself enough to get used to the feeling. It helps that that's everything when he's in his other form, so he's used to it now.

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