He notices the fingerprints as he walks in. He can't not; it's in his nature to take stock of his surroundings. Over 3 years of constant vigilance where not noticing something meant dying a horrible death was a hard habit to break. At least it would come in handy here. It made him feel stupid at home. He sure as hell wasn't going to talk about it, though. It was none of Dee's business.

"My people?" Marco raised an eyebrow and pretended to be offended for a beat, then snorted, "I'm from California." He knew she meant his universe and his friends. He just liked screwing with people, "Maybe I wouldn't be sneezing if you knew how to clean. Jeez. I started doing all the cleaning when I was 11 and it was better than this."

Acquire... oh, right. The normal meaning of the word. Marco walked around, leaving his own set of tracks in the dust, "Nah, I meant to turn into. Problem with that is I have to get nice and close to whatever I want to morph into and touch it as myself. Lots of animals get sort of dopey, but not all of them, and I'm betting these things would just chomp my arm off and follow it with the rest of me. Pass."

"What is it with you and dead cats? Do you hate cats?" Marco asked, then looked at the door, "Yeah, can't blame you there. Who wants to go into normal basements, much less ones in creepy-death towns? Still, furnace." He walked over and opened the door, noting the ominous creak.