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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Festy_Dog" data-source="post: 4050005" data-attributes="member: 2561">[sblock=ooc]Sorry I've been slow to post, the past few days were rather hectic.[/sblock]Archer nodded understandingly, "Fair enough. You know more than I on the topic so I'll leave the decision to you as to whether it's worth bringing along.""I wouldn't worry about that, Frank was definitely alive. I bore witness to him eating and breathing and engaging in many an activity a warm-blooded, living individual would enjoy or at least deem necessary to survival."But just to be safe," while inspecting something in the kitchen Archer gives a description of Frank.He carefully removed the card from the back of the cupboard door and looked at it. Gkao Golden Spice. This would be the easiest step forward when progressing his own investigation. He pocketed the card and sniffed around for the acrid ginger. After bundling a couple of pieces into some tightly bound cling wrap he added that too to his pocket and migrated to the foyer.After some searching Archer found himself preoccupied with a tiny scorch mark on the ceiling. He remembered the white glow from the fight, and realised it correlated with the tiny mark. Carrying a chair from the kitchen he used it to get closer to the scorch mark, inspecting it further. What on Earth could it have been? Time was short and he couldn't waste too much, if the scorch was worth anything he could always come back.The chair was returned to the kitchen. A futile effort considering the state of the apartment but Archer was just that kind of person. He lugged his notably heavier suitcase towards the apartment's entrance before going to gather the others.Archer squinted at the writing, trying to will away the dizziness that Frank's drawings inflicted upon him. That seemed like Arabic alright, but the writing looked terrible at the best of times. Archer had spent some time in the Middle East but for the most part he'd let his Arabic fall by the wayside, so much so that the scratchings meant nothing to him now. He was terrible at keeping practice because languages were so tedious for him. This however appeared to be good reason to perhaps brush up on those languages he'd forgotten.Archer looked over Cole's shoulder to give his opinion. "Mossberg 590 and a cheap knockoff of a Taurus Model 731," Archer traced a line down the barrel of the shotgun with his finger, ending with it perched atop the iron sights, "The sights are off. An impact caused a hairline stress fracture and twisted the barrel slightly. It'll work fine, but the barrel's going to need replacing at some point in future. Repeated firing is only going to aggravate the problem. The Taurus knockoff is, well, exactly that. Normally a Model 731 takes .32 Magnum but I'd only trust that clone with a mild P+ .32 ACP load at most. Hell, I'm not a big fan of Taurus in the first place so a cheap clone inspires nil confidence in me. That said, a gun is a gun and we can't afford to be fussy. Pity they didn't leave any spare cartridges.""That looks pretty good on you," Archer smiled, but the clothes reminded him of Celeste. He missed her, much to his chagrin.With the suitcase at the entrance Archer hunted about for another bag, briefcase or suitcase left in the apartment with which to carry the rest of the novels."Once we've got these novels dealt with I'm good to go."[sblock=ooc]Archer will be carrying his own suitcase.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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