Who let the frogs out? (RP)

Emma stayed just long enough to hear Max and Pers planning their next move. She didn’t want to be part of whatever came next, and it wasn’t like she could contribute anything even if she did, so she quietly excused herself and slipped away.

Stopping by the edge of the park, she pulled out her phone and started looking for any soup kitchens, homeless shelters, or free clinics at Soho and the vicinity. She was determined to call on each one of them. Sarah didn’t have any money when she left, and she doubted she could afford so much as a subway fare. She wanted to think she couldn’t have gotten very far. If she was lucky, maybe she could still find a trace of her.

Her phone calls led nowhere. With a sigh, she started scrolling through the Administrator’s contacts again as she walked down the street. Most of the names wouldn’t have been of any help; she doubted powerful wizards or vampires would care enough to help her with a a missing person case.

"…Beggers’ Network?" she stopped as she looked upon the names associated with that ‘organization’. It seemed odd that someone like the Administrator would bother with any of them. Maybe there was more to this group than a handful of homeless people and vagrants? None of the entries had phone numbers, which suggested they weren’t exactly influential, but perhaps having eyes and ears on the streets served him in some way.

Still, it was worth a shot. If Sarah has been in and out of shelters, then maybe one of them has seen her. She tucked her phone away and changed direction, walking under her umbrella as she left the main road. She would make a stop at Burger King on her way; Slippery Jim would probably be more talkative on a full stomach.

Emma spent nearly an hour looking through alleys, underpasses, bus stops, the backs of convenience stores, and past the garbage bins, in search of Slippery Jim. The Administrator’s notes weren't much help. All she had was name, and a few vague hints about his "usual haunts."

Her feet were aching after spending so long out in the rain, and her coat was damp and heavy. She sighed to herself and admitted defeat, as she turned back toward home.

She reached Bridle Lane, brick walls close on either side, and walked right past the ongoing renovation right next door to her appartment building. She was just passing the scaffolding when someone stepped out from beneath it and blocked her way. He was gaunt, wearing several patchy coats, and reeked of urine, sewage, and sweat.

"!!!!"

Emma took a reflexive step backward, nearly nearly slipping on the wet pavement, at the sight of him. 'Jim', for his part, took his time dragging on his cigarette, as if her little startle had been part of the entertainment.