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[August 31st, during the day]

Normally he and his dad would do something fun for his birthday, but since that wasn't really doable this year with his dad being in jail, he'd visited him earlier that day. His dad had told him where he'd stashed some money that he'd planned to use to buy Roddy a present and told him to buy himself something nice, and so that's what Roddy ended up doing when the visit was over. First he stopped by the music store, buying himself an electric violin he'd had his eye on for a while as well as a small amplifier for it, before going to a bakery and buying himself a cheesecake.

He headed home, and after having a small meal and eating some of the cheesecake and generally feeling far more depressed than he'd like to have been on his eighteenth birthday, before testing out his new violin. After a bit, he decided he'd rather be around people, so headed out to the Hillingdon House to hang out for a while.

August 31st, evening]

Later that evening, he decided he needed to do something about the whole 'suspected murder' thing. While having Kyle show up got him a witness to where he'd been that night other than the people who ran the thing (who he wasn't sure if they'd want to talk to the police, considering they'd thrown an illegal rave), his dad was still a suspect. Sure, he'd be in trouble either way, since he'd punched a cop, but a first time charge for assaulting an officer was far less than murder. And so he hatched a plan.

Texting each of the three boys he'd concluded played a part in the murder, Roddy made it look like a mass text from someone at their school. Since they didn't know his number, they'd have no reason to suspect anything, and he just typed 'Retchid Kat is playing tonight at an underground rave', before texting the information. Then, with a swarm of rats behind him, he grabbed his cat head, violin and amplifier, and headed to the old abandoned warehouse that he'd told them the rave would be at and waited.

When the time drew near he'd set up the violin and slip on the cat head, and start playing some music, using the more electrical sound of the violin to make it sound more like a rave before they came in. There were long hallways before they reached the area he was in, but they'd be able to follow the sound, and from there...well, he'd use the swarm of rats, whose numbers had grown now that they were in a warehouse, where more rats had been living, as well as the fact that they wouldn't know who he was or how he knew so much, to scare them into talking. His cell phone was set to record anything they might say.

September 3rd onward
In the days that followed, it became clear to Roddy he'd need a job if he wanted to keep paying the bills. His dad had some money set aside, but not very much, and while Roddy was looking into any musical gigs available, and so he can be found at any places of business around Hillingdon, as well as in Redbright or Night Council territories putting in applications.

[OOC: If anyone's interested in posting to the plot to catch the real killers, feel free to run into him on the way there, in the middle of things, or after, just specify which. Otherwise, I'll just assumed all went according to plan.]

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Sirius had found himself spending more and more time at Hillingdon house. More so than his own place anyway. It's probably the fact that there are people around and being alone has never been something that Sirius had been good at.

It usually worked out for him since there was often someone around to talk to. And in this case it was someone Sirius had been hoping to catch up with.

"Roddy, how's it going?"

"It's going," he said. "I mean, it's better now that I know who really killed the teacher, and I'm going to try something to get the police to look in the right direction but...it still sucks having my dad in jail on my birthday."

Not that he'd told anyone it was his birthday until just now. Not that it would have mattered if it wasn't for all of this, because he would have been doing something with his dad.

"So our little outing helped?" Sirius asked before smiling sympathetically. He'd had his share of lousy birthdays. "Well, hopefully you're on your way to getting him out. What's the next step in your plan?"

In the meantime, he glanced around the room, looking for information. There had to be something birthday related he could kick up.

"Yeah. It helped. And technically, I'm just on my way to getting him charged with a lot less, since he did punch a cop when they called me a suspect."

So his dad still might not be released right away, but that was still better than his dad being charged with murder.

"And yeah, it helped. I've got the cell phone numbers of the people involved, and there was a blanket in the house that was chewed by rats, which is interesting since there were no rats in the house. I was thinking if I could lure them out and scare them into confessing while I'm recording, it might at the very least get the police looking into them, and what else they might find would confirm everything."

That was, if a confession wouldn't be enough on it's own.

"Good to hear, on both counts," Sirius replied with a nod. "How are you going to lure them out? Give them a call? "

He leans in, curious, and prepared to give his help again if it's needed (or maybe because he likes being involved with things).

"Text. I don't want them to know it's me." Because if they knew it was him, there'd be no way they'd want to meet him somewhere. "Figured I'd make it look like a mass text announcing a party to get them to meet me somewhere, then I'd interrogate them. There's a mask I wear when I DJ, so they don't have to know it's me, and if I really want to freak them out enough to confess, I can always call up a swarm of rats."

Which, considering that was the murder weapon, it would theoretically freak them out more than normal. He figured since they were significantly younger than the teacher, they'd be less likely to have heart attacks and die from the experience.

"Certainly would be effective. Hopefully it won't have to come to that."

Since it would be rather terrifying, he reflected, just thinking about it.

"Sounds like you've got all your angles covered."

"Yeah, I want to make sure I do this right. I know they already don't like me, but I'm sure they'll do what they can to fuck up my life more if I don't get them locked up on the first try."

Which was why he didn't try something until he'd had a chance to think it over. If he was going to do this, he had to do it right, and that wasn't even counting the fact that they might hide the evidence a little better if they knew the police were considering them suspects.

"They do seem like the type, based on what you've told me anyway."

Not that he has a very high opinion of them anyway, considering they yelled at him. Yes, he was hiding in the garden at the time, but it's not like he was doing anything to destroy it. Maybe he should have.

"You need backup?"

"I'm hoping not. Still, I guess it wouldn't be a bad thing to have someone nearby in case things go wrong."

Not that he was thinking it would. Roddy was nervous about his plan, but he was also confident it would work.

"I could be in the area, if you wanted," Sirius offered. As a precaution more than anything else. A swarm of rats was intimidating, but adding a big black dog to the mix could also help.

"Yeah...I think that would be a good idea. I mean, stay back unless they attack or seem like they're going to escape, but it would be a good idea to have some back up."

And with his dog hearing, he'd be sure to hear Roddy if he called for him.

"Consider it done then," Sirius replied with a smile. "I'll just make sure I'm in the area, and just call if you feel you need me."

"Thanks. Glad to have your help. That won't be until tonight, though. I mean, has to be at an hour that they believe there's a rave on, right?"

Until then...he'd do whatever. It wasn't much of a birthday, but in a way, he supposed if everything worked out, knowing that he'd gotten his father into...well, less deep shit would be more than enough to make up for it. Besides, he'd had a slice of cake he'd bought earlier. He'd have probably saved money if he'd tried cooking one himself with ingredients in the Hillingdon House kitchen, he knew he couldn't cook, so the results would have been a disaster.

"Right. Well, just let me know when you want me around and I'll make my way over. You'll be careful, yeah?"

For the confrontation, but also because of the current situation they're in. The last thing they need is some vampire taking an interest in their dealings.

Roddy nodded. "I will." Then, after a moment he added, "To both of those things. I'll be careful and I'll let you know when I want you to head over. Do you have a cell phone or something? I could just send you a text."

Or if not, he could just decide exactly when he'd be doing this.

"As a matter of fact, I do. Don't really use it much though."

Mostly because it's a technology he's rather unfamiliar with, but he'll never outright admit that. He still pulls it out, knowing enough to keep it with him.

Roddy pulls out his own phone. "What's the number? I'll send you a message when it's time."

It seems easier, after all, and ensures he'll be able to get a hold of Sirius.

"Hang on, let me check." He does not use the phone often enough to have committed the number to memory. Probably something he should change in the future. But eventually he finds it, and tells Roddy.

"Sounds good. I'll be waiting for it, then."

"Thanks," he said, saving the number. "I'll be messaging you soon, then.

"Sounds good. I'll be waiting to hear from you. Hope your day goes a little better."

Faolan's got a lot on his mind, what with the recent proposal that Daryl had made to gain more power and territory for the clan. As such, he's doing a lot of hanging around Hillingdon House. Which is where he is, lost in thought, when the trace of music starts to eat its way into his trance. And drag him out of it.

Faolan sits himself up straighter in his chair. He can't concentrate, not with this music in the background. His own fingers itching for strings he has sworn he would not touch again. There's only one thing left to it.

Faolan pushes himself up and goes in search of the sound. The music. Calling to him like a long lost lover. Part of him would do anything to make it stop, make it stop. And part of him wants nothing more than to dust off his guitar and join in.

((ooc: i know i took a few liberties with this, please let me know if i need to edit this in any way! ;3; thank you!!))

Seeing Faolan, Roddy stops playing, hesitating. He honestly has no idea if Faolan was just enjoying the music, or showing up to inform him that he was concentrating on some important, vampire related plans that required silence. Of course, Roddy thought of Faolan as the big, bad, Hillingdon leader with all the vampire know how, and it honestly didn't occur to him that he might have an interest in music.

"Did you need something?"

Faolan shakes his head to snap out of the moment, trying to bring himself back to the present and answer the younger man's question. He looks at him directly now that he's been addressed, rather than staring vaguely in the direction of him and the music he'd been playing, and realizes he doesn't really have a reason to be there at all. It had been the violin that had called him down, after all. And it would keep calling him down, for as long as Roddy had the thing in Hillingdon House. And yet Faolan didn't really have the heart to ask him to take it away either.

"I..." he says, although it's obviously a struggle to put a sentence together to try and explain himself. There's really nothing to explain at all. "The violin..." he tries again, and promptly fails.

That...clarified absolutely nothing. Roddy had assumed he'd shown up because of the music.

"Is it bothering you? Or do you like it?"

Well, he probably liked it, most people did. However, if he was working on some Hillingdon business, it could be breaking his concentration. Although, that wouldn't explain the complete loss of words.

Faolan pauses for a moment, and then shakes his head. It's too hard to explain. He likes it, of course he likes it. And yet it does bother him. But that's hardly a reason to get someone to stop playing. Normally he would just remove himself from the situation but seeing as how he could hear it from his office...

"How long have you played?" he asks instead. Because anything is better than having to explain himself here in this moment.

"Seven years."

So a pretty long time, especially for someone as young as Roddy. He was figuring, then, that Faolan had been impressed by the playing. If he'd been irritating the man, he'd likely have been told to stop playing by now, after all.

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Did you just want to handwave everything going down and assume it all goes well?

Sure, that works for me

during the day

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