Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sam had driven three days to get to the area, a considerably longer road trip than he was used to taking, and a somewhat hazardous one in the cheap rattletrap of a car that he owned. Still, it was marginally cheaper than flying, and his finances were rarely in particularly good shape. He wasn't one for excessive work, and being able to go back to the Institute whenever he wanted a little luxury didn't exactly encourage diligent work or savings. Anyway, virtuous behavior was for angels.

The knowing he'd been gifted with about his target was a little unsettling. He'd never been here before, yet he found the place with the ease of long familiarity, and he knew who lived there, their habits, their weaknesses, as though he'd been the one to gather all the information. He wondered quietly why Thor was assigning him to this task rather than snapping the man up himself. That was none of his business, he reminded himself, a little anxiously, and looked at the toothy ring on his finger. He'd tried taking it off, and found that while removing it carried no immediate consequences, he grew hungrier and hungrier the longer it was off. He'd only attempted the uncomfortable experiment once.

He drove past the house at the posted speed limit and found a place to park his car further down the block. Better not to look like he was too interested. That was a good way to attract attention. This was all way too much like work for his tastes, but he didn't dare not do it. He leaned the car seat back, watched the streetlights start to flicker on, and closed his eyes. Hopefully he wouldn't get interrupted by any curious cops while he was busy. He stretched himself out mentally, reaching out for Brand's dog. He'd check out the apartment first from the inside, get a feel for the layout before he risked breaking in in his own body.

((Possessing the dog for a look around!))

Sam liked dogs. Dogs were easy. Dogs were creatures of instinct and habit and basic drives, easy to steer and influence. Dogs knew their place in the world and liked to have clear commands to obey. He gave it simple instructions, a little at a time, so as not to confuse or upset it too much. Sniff this. Go there. Look at that.

The dog's eyes weren't nearly as sharp as its nose, and Sam would have to use his own eyes to really get a good look at the objects with their old, strange smells, and at the books that weren't quite right. He had the dog pay close attention to them anyway, trying to figure out whether the smell was familiar at all.

When he spotted the second lock, he had the dog rear up with its paws on the door to get a better look. Was it a deadbolt? If it was, he wouldn't be able to just break in that way, not without his entry being noticed, and he felt that he ought to be as discreet as possible about this, somehow.

The books, the strange plants, the dizziness and difficulties with control ... Sam released his hold on the dog and opened his own eyes, staring thoughtfully into the gathering dusk. The apartment was protected, and it was a deliberate and effective effort. Brand was more than he seemed to be, obviously. That answered one question: not just another human. Was the apartment protected against demons only, or against any not-human entity? Sam considered the question for a few minutes, then put it aside as not really mattering; he didn't have a familiar or any other kind of entity he could call on to test the idea. It was his job to do, anyway.

Given that there was some kind of ward or protection on the apartment, that probably meant that Sam would have to lure Brand out somehow and take him unaware. He groaned a little to himself. That sounded like effort, which went against his principles and nature. But he didn't have a choice about it.

It had been a few hours since Brand had gone out, according to the dog's nose, and that meant that he was likely due home for the night soon. It was probably better for Sam to make himself scarce and return later. He cranked the seat back up, started the car, and drove off to find a cheap motel where he could indulge in sleep without having to empty his relatively small bank account to do so.

He returned the next day, timing it so that he'd arrive during the middle of the day when Brand should be out and the kids from the family downstairs were outside playing. He checked first to make sure that the man's car was gone, then went through a charade of climbing the stairs, pretending to knock on the door, waiting a while, then trudging back down. He stopped on the walk to call out to the boys. "Hey, you guys know when that guy upstairs is s'posed to be home?"

"Oh, yeah. I know him. But it's been a long time," Sam said. "I was hoping he was home today, I was gonna surprise him. What's he like these days? He still got that dog of his?" He gave the boys a conspiratorial grin. "We used to play music pretty loud. He been bugging your parents any like that?"

He had to be careful with his line of questioning. If he could make the kids feel like they were in on something, he could probably get them to give him some information about his target without making them think that this was something they should tell anyone else again.