Crime Without Direction [M-IC]

Status
Not open for further replies.

Sir Salty

Big Daddy of Internet Culture
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. Multiple posts per day
  3. 1-3 posts per day
Online Availability
No Life
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Genres
Speculative Fiction, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Horror
Rated M: For some fantasy violence, gore, and other mature rated themes


[BCOLOR=transparent]December 31, 2015[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The Bermuda Mummy[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]I’ll admit I would have preferred to spend my New Years with a drink in my hands. Staring into the sky at fireworks and counting down to 2016. Instead I got a call on December 29th, telling me that we needed the team in Bermuda. We arrived on December 31st, and spent 8 weeks tracking what we’re now calling the Bermuda Mummy.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]All though the name is highly inaccurate. Turns out the Bermuda Triangle is a real thing. Turns out disturbed mummies from 1940 Egypt, can slip through portals and wreak havoc on the people of the very much modern Hamilton. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]**[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]We at the BMCI have some interesting tactics. Because they said, “Hey Simone, you’re the human of the group we’re putting the mummy back”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Why? Why would you put the mummy back? Why was I the least physical of the group, suppose to out pace a mum[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]**[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone most likely will never finish his report. I felt the best and rational decision was to put the mummy back where it belonged. Return it home where it belonged. I felt if the mummy was not replaced, that it could cause more problems in the future if we outright killed it. Simone was instrumental to the plan as our very useful human bait.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Turns out it worked. For whatever reason the Mummy seemed particularly intrigued by Simone. Bit like Karl and the laser pointer. Not admitting we actually had to use it in this case. But I digress. The chase was on. While Simone out jogged the Mummy we were devising a plan. A plan that required careful thinking and planning. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Turns out Mummy’s are not the very brightest bunch because he was really focused on one thing. And I quote “Consuming the flesh of power”. I think that was Simone. Think. Since that’s who he was following. We had a pretty good plan too.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]When the Mummy got close to the time warp, we’d shove him into the portal. Use some device better explained by the person who made it to close the thing.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]We nearly escaped the tragic lost of Aries. And the BMCI agents in the knick of time. Putting the Mummy back into 1940. And another case solved by the great BMCI agency. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]P.S. Fund us properly [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tuesday January 26, 2016 [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]10:08 am - Second Floor BMCI Agency [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden smacked his lips together, biting his lower lip with his incisors. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Our team are a bunch of idiots,” Kaden said staring at the blonde man from across of him.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I do believe some of them may actually ride the short bus to and from work,” Quinton responded. Kaden raised one of his dyed orange eyebrows. Yes, the vampire admitted that he did dye his hair. He liked to keep updated on the latest fashions and did believe the orange color brought out the brimstone in his cursed eyes.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“That included you,” Kaden responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I stuck to the facts, no matter how idiotic they are,” Quinton retorted. Kaden pointed to the P.S. message. Quincy looked away playing with a paperweight on Kaden’s desk. What was the point of the paperweight? A large marble with several different colors swirled into, twisting colors of blue, red and orange. Kaden’s office looked more like it belonged to a wealthy diplomat, other than a poor, struggling, sometimes starving BMCI agency.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden’s trophies, accomplishments, all laid out in his office. What he had completed, only one of the few in their team to have completed accurate MIPD training courses, and to be on top of his class. He had dark oak book shelves, with books with impressive title. But considering the layers of dust Quincy could see, the titles were to impress others, but Kaden hadn’t even picked up any of the books to read them. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“A little embellishment and good business model never hurt anyone,” Quincy said pointing out of Kaden’s window, “Look poor Simone can barely pay for clothes.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“No I think he just hasn’t a lack of fashion sense,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“That is probably more accurate,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy eye’s scanned across the agency with his eyes out of the window.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“What about Karl, he needs a new laser pointer?”[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]“Is he a cat or an agent?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Both, at times,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Fuck, you’re right,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Rashida, there’s a fine example. She’s working on research on how to keep the cow smell off of her,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I think that’s just a racial thing, they all smell like cows,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“But she’s doing something to better her kind’s future,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Don’t think the GMA is going to fall for that,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I am running out of stuff to bullshit you with, Squid, needs a bigger tank,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Does he live in a tank?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Fuck am I supposed to know that,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy clapped his hands, “Ah Arya needs better schooling.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I don’t think she’d get it either way,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“We need to pay for a door Buras broke down,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Has he broken any doors lately?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Fuck,” Quincy got up and opened the door, “Buras go break something we need the GMA to pay us more money!” Quincy turned back to Kaden, “Now he has.”[/BCOLOR]



[BCOLOR=transparent]Crime Without Direction[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]A Sweet Kiss and a Broken Heart - Case 1[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]January 29th, 2016 - 8:09 pm[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]At night Little Fairy never quite seemed the same. During the day bright colors illuminated the quaint, country, nearly almost European architecture well. At night that Gothic architecture came out to play. The silhouettes of buildings were forewarning of danger. Strange shadows. And even stranger things in said shadows. This, was what the fifth one? Five victims, once a week. Tod, honestly had no idea what they were dealing with right now.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]snow was already washing away most of the evidence. Witnesses either were babbling about something they might have saw. Or saying they saw nothing, and the man was running from something invisible.Tod knew it couldn’t have just been nothing. Staring at the corpse. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Entrails had been carefully removed. Though not like a surgeon. It was disturbing to be looking at broken ribs jutting out of the man’s chest cavity. Something was strong enough to rip the man’s heart straight out and break open his chest. From the looks of it, no surgical tools were used to take out the entrails. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Rough and ragged wounds, bits of broken bone, sewn together by sinewy bits of ligament and whatever entrails were left behind. Blood pooling and dragged into the gutters by snow washing of what little was left. Vermillion gore coated the alleyway walls like a new coat of paint. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Victim was a male in his prime. Twenty-five, the other victims near the same age. But of different genders. In this case he was running. Leg was broken. Tod frowned inhaling then exhaling from his smoke he had lit under the umbrella. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]BMCI had just gotten back from Bermuda. He hadn’t wanted to give them a new case. Actually he was hoping the MIPD would be able to solve this one on their own. Without needing to call in the BMCI. It wasn’t that Tod didn’t like them. He just didn’t see why the GMA hadn’t considered him for the position of the second in command or even the team lead. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quinton was a good agent, but he had his own services. He was a private consultant before all of this. That bridge the gap between the MIPD and the Non Sighted Little Fairy Police Department. Simone was a failure in Tod’s eyes. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t climb a gate if his life depended on it. Couldn’t use a gun. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod at least had some sense in himself. He had solved some cases. The BMCI had come to him for his aid here and there. Yet, he was stuck. Leading a department that could barely tell sometimes between the entrance of a paper bag and their own asshole.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Want me to run this by the BMCI Chief?” asked one of his department boys in black. Tod refused to wear the uniform since he got the promotion of head of department. BMCI had no uniform, Head of MIPD should have no uniform requirement either. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The MIPD uniform was the typical police style uniform, but the coat and pants were black. No tie requirement, with a utility belt. Got your typical stuff. Supernatural rounds that nullified a supernatural suspect. Or pierced through thick skin. Taser to subdue a supernatural being. Your typical notepad and a waterproof pen.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod frowned.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“No leave it,” Tod said, “Whatever this is, is still killing one victim a week. It’s slow. We can figure this out on our own.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“But sir,” [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Shut it, we’ll solve it,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He got it, they were suppose to work together. They were suppose to have each other’s backs. The MIPD relied on the BMCI and the BMCI relied on the MIPD, what never. He was tired of the MIPD being looked at an unneeded department besides giving out tickets, stopping domesticate disputes among the supernatural, and other such mundanities. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]BMCI got to go to fucking Bermuda. And deal with a Mummy in Bermuda. They had leftovers. Like vultures scavenging for any publicity and attention.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]February 3rd, 2016[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]10:10 pm - Lucky Clover Bar[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He hated. He hated having to admit defeat. But when he was looking at a boy in black, ripped and gutted open. Tod knew when to foolishly give up the chase. He growled under his breath. Walking into the Lucky Clover Bar, odd little joint. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Had nothing to do with the Irish, Leprechauns he was thinking of Connor wasn’t he. And more to do with strippers, horny werecreatures, and sometimes you caught a Vampire or two in here. It was Kaden’s favorite spot on a Wednesday. One of the Den worked here on Wednesday. And Kaden often kept a careful eye out on his Den of Vampires.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Still it was weird to see a man, dressed in the nice velvet suit, with an ascot in this goddamn day and age. Sitting in a seedy, shady bar, on a stool. Drinking from a glass. Some kind of scotch perhaps. Tod sat down next to Kaden. Tod hailed the bar tender.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Wine?” Tod asked the bartender.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Red or white,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Doesn’t matter, I’ll pay for either,” Tod told him, “Can I smoke?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Sure,” the bartender grumbled.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod lit a cigarette and Kaden looked at him with his brimstone, hellfire eyes.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“It’s boxed,” Kaden told Tod.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I never cared about whether something boxed or not,” Tod told Kaden. Kaden only smirked, watching the poles. As woman moved in a fashion that Tod could only describe as unnatural. Then again though he was not that flexible as a person.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Just watching to make sure she’s all right,” Kaden told Tod, staring at another girl. Thick black, wavy hair, and pale skin. With brimstone, hellfire eyes, “You should really put more forces up this way.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“We’ve been kind of stretched thin,” Tod told Kaden who raised a brow.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Any particular reason?” Kaden asked, “You suppose to be with Scarlet at this time of night. And you would never show up in this location unless there was a reason.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod frowned, thanked the bartender for the drink and he passed along the cash. Drink came out to be about eight half pieces. He threw a third piece and told the bartender to keep the change.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I hate you, you know that Kaden, I hate you and your whole damn team. Half the time the MIPD thinks you guys fool around more than you do actual work,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“We just sent a Mummy back through a portal and saved a small town from population annihilation Tod, don’t see the complaint,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“You have a Naga in the elevator, your team seems to not take their job very seriously and you have good agents like Quincy wasting their time on the idiot crew,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden frowned.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“What is this all about?” Kaden asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod slid a file to Kaden.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Have fun the BMCI seems really good at taking cases away from hard workers,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden only took a brief glimpse of the file, skimming through the pictures and dates.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“You decided only now to tell me about this,” Kaden huffed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod drained his glass of wine.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Your team isn’t the only team that can solve cases, or so I thought. Now that one of my boys in uniform is dead, the GMA will be all over our asses and the press. So I have no choice, but to turn it over to you. Else I’d solve the case myself,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Your team was never constructed to handle situations like this. These are Code Three cases, Code THREE. Tod these come to me immediately. Not when you feel like it,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I’m the Head of my Department, you're the head of yours. Don’t talk to me like you have some higher power than me Kaden. You don’t.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“But now one of your own is dead,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“It’s what happens in the industry, not everyone is the all powerful supernatural team known as the BMCI. You’ve lost agents before,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Yes, but it sounds like you’re coming to me pouting,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Yeah well, I am”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod turned on his heel. He decided to leave this place before he punched Kaden in the face. Or something of that nature. Kaden didn’t get it. Not everyone could be special in their lives. But because the BMCI was labeled what they were. And decreed what they were. They were treated more special. Thus they got special treatment. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tod wanted a chance. A chance they didn’t think he deserved. And this case highlighted that fact. Got one of his own killed. Couldn’t solve the case. Kept it from the BMCI for several days. Then had to give it up. Made him seem average in comparison to those already deemed [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Unique[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent].[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]February 4th, 2016 - Thursday - Present [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]11:45 pm - Last Night[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The first question someone might have asked Quincy was if he was getting ready to show his current flat to the next potential renters. As the apartment was preserved in an unhealthy amount of perfectionist OCD. Everything was neat. Not a spot of dust. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Pillows were fluffed. Nothing in the way. Coffee table at the right angle to be decorative, but not enough to bother him. Bed was made, looked like it was brand new and no one ever slept on it. Unfortunately he still had to sleep. Still had needs. Would have been cooler if he didn’t have these interruptions of his routines. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His phone began to vibrate on the marble counter. As Quincy has spent the last hour, recognizing he was hungry. Forgetting he was hungry and now he had buried himself in the refrigerator trying to figure out an assembling line of ingredients. Did broccoli go with brussel sprouts? For one. Did carrots go with broccoli and brussel sprouts? What made food tasty?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Looking over at his smartphone, he saw Kaden’s name. Should have known when he chose that classic Dracula tune for him.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Quinton,” he responded swiping the answer phone call blinking on his phone.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Are you busy?” Kaden asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Yeah, what makes food taste good? I been trying to figure that out for an hour now. Instead of asking my neighbor to make me dinner, again,” Quincy responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Usually seasoning and other a food’s natural flavor,” Kaden retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Yeah I don’t know what any of that is and it’s getting confusing,” Quincy responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Well I am not calling you to discuss cooking,” Kaden paused, “Can you come in early?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“How early?” Quincy asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Six?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“All right,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“We need to discuss our current case,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“A new one already?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“A MIPD agent was killed,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Well, shit”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I know, get something to eat Quincy, and get some rest,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]It was a short and brief exchange. As most of their work calls were. The phone call dropped and Quincy frowned at the refrigerator. Tomato soup it was. Closing the refrigerator door, he opened up his cupboards and took out a can of tomato soup. Ah tomato soup, you convenient bastard you.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]6:20 am - Today [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He was staring, over a cup of coffee, at some pretty gruesome and horrific sights. Little Fairy was a small town, with trees in neat dense clusters that broke up most of the modernization of Little Fairy. Which wasn’t much as it kept most of its Gothic architecture in tact. It was still like a little bit of Europe had touched the countryside of the American continent. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Narrow streets. Narrow sidewalks. A lot of people. A lot of busy lives. Except that for now, it was Kaden and him staring at the notes taken by the other medical examiner of the building. And not one of their own. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Six victims. All with very similar physiology. All young. All in their prime. At night. Something strong enough to break through bone. But something careful enough to take out entrails and other organ meats. Either it was harvesting the organs for a ritual. Or simply to eat throughout the winter. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I’ll admit, not the start of the morning I want,” Quincy told Kaden.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden nodded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Not the evening I wanted,” Kaden told him, “You plan on how you want to address the team, yet?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“You didn’t call Simone in early?” Quincy asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden have Quinton a look.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I did,” Kaden told him.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Keep telling you, if you tell him 4 o’clock he’ll get here by six,” [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden smiled.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]“Made it,” Simone said coming into the conference room, looking disheveled and tired. He really had tried to get here early it seemed. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“We need to work out a plan for the Broken Heart case,” Quinton told Simone.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone nodded as if he had an idea of what was going on. He honestly didn’t because he hadn’t been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, looking at the photos discussing the game plan with them. Though Quincy watched Simone walk up to the pictures with a curious look. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Why the Broken Heart case?” Kaden asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Valentine’s day,” Quincy smiled.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Why not the Heart Stealer or Heart Breaker,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Because Broken Hearts and Sweet Kisses sound nicer,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Getting anything Teddy?” Kaden asked Simone staring at the photos. Simone looked to the side.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“The camera skills of the photographer are horrible,” Simone told Kaden.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I meant about the case,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I know what you meant,” Simone responded, “I’d have see the crime scenes.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy looked to the current agency right now. It was dead quiet. The team wouldn’t have to come in till eight in the morning. They were here to gather all the facts and present them to the team. The office seemed quiet right now. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Dark and lonely. With empty desk. You could tell whose desk was whose depending on the things they brought to decorate their desk. Some were messier than others. Simone’s definitely was a chaotic mess right now. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Still though despite their flaws. They were a good team. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He sighed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Let’s continue getting the details all down,” Quincy said, “I’ll write a text message. Telling them we’re meeting in the conference room today.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Text Message From: Quincy[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nothing too alarming. When you get in today, come straight into the conference room. We have an early Valentine’s gift. [/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]“The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.” - Bertrand Russell [/BCOLOR]​
[BCOLOR=transparent]“Quincy,” Kaden mumbled.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Yes?” Quincy asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“What’s with the quote?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Necessary for dramatic purposes,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone “Teddy”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]10:58 pm - Last Night[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He was going to get it straight. He was going to get to work early tomorrow. He had set his alarm. And was already laying in his sheets. He was going to get a schedule and be reliable for once. New Year's resolutions and all. Except Quincy told him for him it would be impossible. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Still Simone had done some good making on his promises. He straightened out his living room. Putting away old projects he wouldn’t complete. By putting them away he put them in a box that was overflowing at this point with the message, “[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Complete these Projects”[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent].[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He tossed in his big comforter that kept him warm in the winter. This was uncomfortable. He was a naturally inspired night owl. Getting to bed seemed to be only for two types of people. The very old. Or the very crazy. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The night was the most fascinating thing about Little Fairy. When all the architecture seemed to get dark and scary. He could be taking photos right now. Of Gargoyles. Or of Ghost. He liked to show his captured pictures of ghost to Quincy. Though he never seemed too interested in them. He thought they’d bring him comfort.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He shuffled again. He felt like he was missing something right now. What if a drunk man comes yelling out of the liquor store again? Or what if the MIPD gets to chase someone down in their squad car? He was starting to find himself getting anxious laying there.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His phone began to vibrate on his nightstand. Knocking over a water bottle. His hand failing in the dark limply. Before he found his phone. He saw the name Kaden and quickly answered.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Something happening!” he sounded ecstatic.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Well that is not the response I was expecting. In context that sounds like, yeah dead people,” Kaden responses. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Just tell me I have something to do,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Tomorrow,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Ah darn,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Is something going on?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I am going stir crazy,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I am afraid to ask,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I tried to go to bed early so I could get to work early,”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]On the other end he heard Kaden begin to burst out into laughter. He sounded more amused than he did convinced that he could do it. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I’ll prove you wrong!” Simone told Kaden over his laughter, “What time.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Six,” Kaden sniffed, sounded like was wiping away tears.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I’ll get there,” Simone responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]6:15 am - Today[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His alarm had being going off for a good half n hour now. Things didn’t quite go as they should have went. He tried to go to sleep. 11 pm, turned to 12 am, 1 am to 2 am, 3 am turned to Fuck it. He got up. Did some art projects. To realize he needed to sleep. He only had nestled into bed at 5, said he’d wake up at 5:30. Dozed off into a deep sleep he didn’t want to pull himself from. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He launched himself out of his sheets. Falling onto the floor.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Ow,” Simone whispered to himself. As he began to rush around the room. Looking for clothes. At least he adulted in that fashion. Laundry basket was full in the laundry room. But he was never good at pairing things with things.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Flinging clothes here and there. Simone chose a pair of black and white checker pants, he thought they were cool. With a turtleneck black sweater. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone left the discarded sheet on the floor and a pile of clothes scattered around the room. Running out of the single bedroom of his apartment. He tripped over his shoes at his door. He slipped them on. Never liked tying shoelaces to begin with.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His apartment was small and cramped with things everywhere. Pots never used, but he wanted to use yesterday to cook this and then changed his mind. But he whimpered at the coffee pot. Did he have time to make coffee? No. He should use the one at work. But they never had the right coffee at work. And. Uh. Ah.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He ran out the door of his apartment quickly. Running down the hall in a flurry of motion. He headed down the stairs. Unlocked his bike. And pedal his heart out.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]6:25 am - Currently[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]While Quinton was sending the text to the rest of the group, he was moving between the details of the picture. Examining them. The photography work was shoddy at best. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“When the rest of the team coming in?” Simone asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“8 in the morning,” Kaden responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone smiled.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I did pretty good today,” [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Actually you look like you just rolled out of bed and ran like a bat out of hell,” Quincy responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Good try though Teddy,” Kaden smiled.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]And so the wait was on. Waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. So they could do the important work. Catching whatever did this.[/BCOLOR]
 
Buras was laying on his side, in bed, having a wonderful dream, when suddenly his phone decided to make several loud beeps and wake him up. Grunting, he refuses to move. But the constant beeping slowly but surely got him upright if not standing so he could check why it was making that noise. It was because he had gotten a message and it was making sure he knew it. "God damn fuckin' son of a...." he grumbled as he looked at the message and the time, wondering why work had decided to call him while he was still sleeping. It was because he had work to do, of course he did.

Now that he was up and he had to go to work, he figured that he should at least look like he hadn't been having a good night's sleep. So he got on his feet, and made his way to the bathroom where he proceeded to take care of his bodily functions. That done, he brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Yes he combed his hair, you can also say he combed his mane, whatever. But be honest, do you want to go out in public looking like Albert Einstein's long lost and distant cousin? No, you wouldn't. Once that was done, he grabbed a breakfast bar and out the door he went.

Lucky him his neighborhood was only a couple blocks away from the office, and he had found a path that minimized the risk of breaking any property belonging to small folk. And as he went on his walk to work, he waved hello and greeted those he met. "Hi Mrs. Matthew. Sorry, I can't stay to talk for long. Got a call from the office, it's something important. Nah, I don't know what it's about, they never tell me what it's about until I get there. I think it's because they think I'll call in sick otherwise. Mr. B! Save me a little something, paycheck should be coming in soon and I want some of your famous Nemean ribs. I know, I know, but I kicked down a door last month so they're paying me extra. Not always, just when they tell me to. I ain't telling you why they told me to kick down a door, top secret."

Buras continued like this for the rest of his journey to the office, and even once he got in. It all ended though when he entered the briefing room and discovered that he was the first one there, aside from those that'd obviously be there before him such as the squad lead and the big boss. "Mornin'." he said as if nothing was wrong.
 
Skarrow sighed, letting the water run across his skin. He had to get someone to fiddle with it when he had the shower installed; he preferred cold water. It reminded him of home. Well, not home, but home. He slumped into the corner, letting the water run over him. He let his mind wander, and for a psychic, that can mean a lot of potentially psychedelic things.

Almost as soon as he slipped into his reverie, his phone went off, vibrating on the bathroom counter. Skarrow let it ring for a few more seconds before groaning and turning the shower off. Work, work, work. Couldn't I have a single day of no worrying about the latest undead serial killer or eldritch abomination from the depths or whatever?

Work might be important, but so was getting to work awake, so first he ate breakfast, which consisted of some fish - raw - a few handfuls of sugar cubes, and sugar water. Then he got dressed. He was feeling a bit casual, so he slipped on his usual, a grey hoodie, a pair of sunglasses, grey jeans, and sneakers with mismatched laces. And he still had some time to kill, so why not more sugar? In fact, why not just pour it out of the bag straight into his mouth? But no, that was just gluttony. Maybe later. On his way out, he paused, then grabbed the box of sugar cubes. He didn't know how busy it was going to be; he might need a stress reliever.

He was lucky enough to catch a taxi passing by just as he left his house. He waved it down and got in, head bobbing slightly to his music. He wasn't much in the mood to talk just yet, so he just strongly mentally suggested the directions to the driver. He had more interesting things to do than make conversation, like google how human spleens work or if they also enjoy raw fish meat (apparently some do).

Skarrow was pleased to see that the driver had managed to get him to the office slightly early and tipped him a bit extra. The driver, who both appeared to be a normal human and had driven Skarrow before, wordlessly nodded his head and thanks before he drove off. Skarrow went up to the briefing room, entering silently. The only acknowledgement of the others was him dropping a general positive feeling into the air when he walked in. He felt it was polite, plus it was part of an experiment; could he Pavlov people into being happy whenever he walked in without psychic assistance? Then he took a silent seat, eyes sill on his phone.
 
[BCOLOR=transparent]Note; So Beo and Viral you are my guinea pigs. You will tell me whether or not this style will work. I know it sounds strange, but I am testing mechanics right now.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]7:30 am - BMCI Agency [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]By 7:30 am Quincy was starting to fall asleep on the paperwork. Even with two cups of coffee, waking up as early as he did started to have its side effects on him. Quincy was known for being prompt and he was staring too hard at one photo that it was becoming hard to focus on it actually. He started to glance over the photo and the details. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden had to shake him by the shoulder at some point.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Got at least give the impression we haven’t been here forever,” Kaden told Quincy.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy merely smirked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Your coffee is weak stuff Kaden, it taste more like bitter water and not coffee,” Quincy remarked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“That’s what I have been saying this whole entire time, why does the Vampire get to control how much coffee is in the coffee of people who like coffee,” Simone responded, except that he was all over the place. Putting pictures together like a puzzle piece for himself. For an active night owl Quincy was mildly bitter and jealous he could be so up and active in the morning.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Last time Quincy made the coffee it was so strong he nearly knocked out the BMCI agents,” Kaden retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“At least it kept us awake, even if our hearts were racing and some of us twitching,” Quincy replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Simone nodded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I like his coffee, because at least I can make it weaker. We can’t make Kaden’s coffee stronger though,” Simone responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Well I don’t want the next GMA report to be, Quincy killed our agents because his coffee was so strong a blood vessel ruptured in our magical creature friends hearts,” Kaden retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“It’s not that bad,” Quincy responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Says the man who can’t cook. What did you end up eating last night?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Tomato soup,” Quincy retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Kaden sighed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy began to sit back on his chair, the chair resting on two legs instead of four. Talking about four legs, the first to arrive was Barus. Quincy neverminded Barus, he seemed slow at times, but then again all centaurs seemed to have a missing light bulb in their head sometimes.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]But what Barus lacked in the spark department, he had qualities of taking direction, was good at the physical stuff some of his team couldn’t do. Strong will. Strong heart. And loyalty. Things Quincy looked for in his people. Quincy smiled at Barus.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Good morning,” Quincy greeted Barus, “Did anything interesting last night?”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]While Simone said nothing and simply passed over a copy of the case file to Barus.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“While you chat you can help me look this over,” Simone told him and gave Quincy half a look.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]@Beowulf [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Barus has been given the First Photo. The First Victim is a female, her chest has been ripped opened. Her heart was taken carefully, but not from any surgical tools. Despite the wounds being neat looking it doesn’t appear to be done carefully. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The ribcage is jutting out from the abdomen, bits of sinewy ligaments and arteries are hanging out from a carcass that seems picked clean by buzzard and other scavengers. The Victim has been killed in a secluded, isolated alleyway, squeezed between two close together buildings. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Due to the snow it appears to have either frozen or washed away most of the blood splatter on the ground. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Please roll a d10 [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]On Your Post[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent] for a Detective Discovery - anything below a 5 you will know the most common details in the photo i.e. the description I have given you. Anything above 5 you will gain a Detective Discovery from the photo giving you a new clue for the case.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]“I know not everyone is here right now,” Simone paused, “But I’d like you to come to the crime scenes with me, and I’ll probably bring along Ska-speak of the devil.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy waved to Skarrow coming into the room.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Good morning Skar,” Quincy smiled, “We’ve sorta already half discussed details. Sounds like Simone wants to take you to crime scenes later.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Quincy offered with a hand gesture to a seat. He slid a copy of the case file to the seat Skar had taken.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“I hope your evening was relaxing,” Quincy continued conversing, “I mostly just listened to music. Ate a bowl of tomato soup.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]@Viral[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Skarrow has stopped on the first picture as well. Noticing Barus and Simone looking it over as well.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Please roll a d10 [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]On Your Post[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent] for a Detective Discovery - anything below a 5 you will know the most common details in the photo i.e. the description I have given you. Anything above 5 you will gain a Detective Discovery from the photo giving you a new clue for the case.[/BCOLOR]
 
"Well I ate some left overs my ma made last time I visited. Ma's pasta is the best pasta and there isn't anything you say or make that'll convince me otherwise." Buras said with a smile as he took the folder. That smile quickly disappeared as he saw the picture and was replaced with a slight grimace. "Not exactly something people like to see as soon as they walk through the door." he said more to himself then anyone else.

Hearing the door open, he takes a quick look over and see it was the squid himself, Skarrow. "Mornin'." he says to him as well, a more pleasant mood pressing in on him. He didn't know why, but that good mood was there. "So what do we know so far?" he asked the room in general, hoping for something more to work on then just the picture. "Do we know of any species that could do something like this?"
 
"Well I ate some left overs my ma made last time I visited. Ma's pasta is the best pasta and there isn't anything you say or make that'll convince me otherwise." Buras said with a smile as he took the folder. That smile quickly disappeared as he saw the picture and was replaced with a slight grimace. "Not exactly something people like to see as soon as they walk through the door." he said more to himself then anyone else.

Hearing the door open, he takes a quick look over and see it was the squid himself, Skarrow. "Mornin'." he says to him as well, a more pleasant mood pressing in on him. He didn't know why, but that good mood was there. "So what do we know so far?" he asked the room in general, hoping for something more to work on then just the picture. "Do we know of any species that could do something like this?"

Simone looked up from the photo. Quincy cocked his head to the side, allowing Simone to take over. Simone always liked Buras. Headstrong, willpower. Loyal, a good heart. And he was glad he could knock down most things so he didn't have to put in the physical effort to do so.

"Well I mean, there is werecreatures," Simone said, "But that mean more like a shapeshifter or a druid. Because the wounds are too neat to be a feral attack."

"That or someone or something really trying to perform a ritual," Quincy added, while Simone nodded. Simone grabbed a magnifying glass just to examine the shoddy camera work for a second. He shrugged disappointedly.

"The MIPD could have taken better pictures, they could have called us in when there was more evidence, the snow has mostly either washed away evidence due to melting and then refreezing," Simone paused, "But it also means we might find evidence they missed at the scene simply because it could be frozen."

"Meanwhile, we know all the victims were young, in their prime, between the ages of 25 and 27," Quincy added.

Simone nodded.

"Hey, if you mother's cooking is as good as you say can you bring me some leftovers?" Quincy asked out of nowhere before turning back to the evidence and Tod's note, "Tod's handwriting is shit."

"We also know the victims were running from someone or something," Quincy continued, "Either they saw or didn't see something. But all the victims were acting erratic just before their death."

"Which means it couldn't be-

-a werewolf or werecreature," Quincy cut Simone off.

"Since they would have explained being chased by a wolf, even if they didn't know what it was," Simone added, "Which means.....err we have to look into rituals."

"Be nice to find any little detail," Quincy said flipping around pictures.
 
"Morning, Buras, boss dudes," Skarrow said, crunching on another sugar cube. He was beginning to contemplate putting his earbuds back in when he saw the picture. "Oh, wow," he said, his attention completely caught. "Funny thing, I was just thinking about serial killers this morning."

He leaned back in his seat. "Well, if we're looking for a ritualist, that leaves, like, a huge fuckin', sorry, freakin' pick of criminals. Like, do we have any other cases like this? Previous murders? Any weird people in the vicinity? Witnesses? I'd really like a witness to work with. The heart is sorta important, you know? It's generally considered connected to the soul, thoughts, emotions, the usual. Heart's high in protein - I guess you can never cross out dietary purposes." He gave a raspy laugh.

"Wounds are neat, heart carefully removed, but a bit of a hurry. Could be important. Very specific age group. Also possibly important. Apparently strong enough to open up a person. Vics knew something was up, so not complete surprise. Urban environment, maybe sorta important. And, uh, that's what I got off the top of my head." He leaned back in his chair, popping another sugar cube into his mouth. "But yeah, I'd love to see the crime scene. All respect to the dead, of course," lowering his head slightly.
 
[The Karl Corner: aka, the old janitor's closet.]

The Karl Corner used to be the closet the janitor used, but when Karl got recruited, and after the closet was later 'given' to Karl as a means of putting him somewhere unsupervised if there was no one to watch over him. It was nicknamed "The Karl Corner." Where the cleaning supplies once occupied the closet, now a lounging chair with a pillow and blanket, and some of Karl's personal items. Such as laser pointers, toys and fantasy books were laid near said chair.

The room also had an outlet with an automatic charging device for phones or laptops, should either Karl or anyone need to charge something without too much hassle.

He was given an outlet to plug stuff in, but that was removed, following what is now dubbed. "Karl short circuiting the building."

Pretty much what happened.

Speaking of Karl.

Karl was in the middle of listening to some of them on the phone that someone had gotten him since his recruitment into the BCMI, when his phone played a set of very loud beats that caused him to jump.

Nearly causing him to drop his phone in shock.

But, thankfully he kept his grip on it. Seeing a new message popped up, Karl took a few moments to remember how to open said message, but eventually he did get it open. It would appear that a team meeting was called. Though, he didn't know what the message meant by "Valentine's gift."​
Wait, what if that meant there was candy or something of the sort? The mere thought got Karl excited. And within a few moments, he left the Karl corner. Which thankfully was near the office, so he didn't have to travel far.

Once he walked in, he gave a rather enthusiastic wave to everyone currently gathered in the office. Before moving to the side so he didn't block the doorway, and he kept quiet, so not to interrupt anyone.

 
  • Love
Reactions: Sir Salty
Hans picked up the mobile phone that the BCMI had given him. He was still not sold on the whole concept. Fortunately, it was relatively easy to use. This current one was the third, having returned the first one after he couldn't get it to work and he accidentally broke the second one by bending it the wrong way. Eventually the Bureau gave him an older model that didn't fold or have any bells and whistles, which was a lot easier to teach.

Either way he saw a text message come up. He raised an eyebrow, knowing that this gift was less than literal. The old German prepared himself, dressing in his usual black slacks and white button up shirt before completing the ensemble with a simple necktie. He then donned a woolen overcoat and winter cap before setting out into the cold. The apartment that BCMI furnished for him was near the bus line with easy access to the office. He had been learning how to drive modern cars, but still preferred to take the bus.

--

He stepped into the office where the others were studying the photographs. He sized up the members there. There was Simone, who was nice enough, Hans appreciated the beer he had gotten last Christmas. Buras, the Centaur heavy weapons expert, he had only heard about what he did on missions. The two of them were very rarely on duty in the same place. He did seem jovial enough at the recent Christmas party. Then there was the merman, he remembered what they could do all too well, during his captivity one of them tried to escape, Hans' master ended up having to euthanize it and ended up grafting several parts of it onto Hans to see if they would give him psychic powers (it didn't work). Finally there was the automaton, he really didn't know much about him other than that he lived in a broom closet and danced rather enthusiastically if given the chance.

"Sho Herren, vhat ist zis about ein Valentinstaggeschenk?" He asked, slipping into German out of habit, after all he only really used most holiday terms a few times per year.

Hans moved towards the table, rather unaware of those who came after him. It was not uncommon for him to simply ignore his surroundings when he had a sort of task. "Ja, zis ist not schokolade." He said, looking at the pictures. "Hmm. . . zat ist interezting."
 
Last edited:
Rashida woke up in a mood. That's what her mom used to call it when one of her daughters would trudge through the house, slamming cabinets and cursing Hathor when they stubbed their toe or clipped a corner with their horns (that last bit specifically described Rashida). But oddly enough, Rashida wasn't just in a 'mood'. She hadn't woken up that day and decided to scream into her pillow or throw all of her bedding across the room. There was a specific reason why she had done those things, and that reason was called 'Asim and Funsani Meskhenet' aka Rashida's parents.

Last night literally right before Rashida was going to roll into bed and get her much needed six hours of sleep, her sister Shani had called her in tears.

"Hello?"

"Rashida, daddy won't give me his name!" Shani had blubbered into the phone, sniffing and shorting loudly. Contrary to Rashida, when Shani got upset instead of fucking shit up, she would become a mixture of enraged and devastated so she would just stop whatever she was doing and just sob for hours. It was infuriating when they were younger, and it was even more infuriating now when all Rashida wanted to do was sleep.

"Why do you even need his name?" The detective replied still annoyed but now a combination of suspicious and excited. In Hathmet culture, when a first son is born, the mother of the newborn goes to either her father or father in law to ask if she can use their name for the child. It was a huge sign of respect and pretty much tradition in large families. But to Rashida's knowledge, Shani wasn't present and unless her wife, Damyana was hiding an extra appendage, Shani couldn't get pregnant.

"Be-be-because Damyana and I really wanted a kid b-but we couldn't have one ourselves b-but then Damyana's former colleague in the deep world told her about this m-m-Minotaur couple th-that--" Rashida groaned loudly as Shani stammered and sobbed through the response. If she wasn't sure that her fucking Ala sister in law wouldn't destroy her, Rashida probably would have hung up. "that died and left their infant son a-and no one wanted him bu-but Damyana and I really wanted a baby--"

"So you decided to adopt him? A minotaur? The one thing that mom and dad hate more than interspecies marriage?" Rashida deadpanned and her sister began crying harder on the other end.

"I wanted to n-name him Asim but daddy told me that if I did, he-he would saw off his hornss and-and mom said--she said she'd take his discard horns and slit her thro-oo--aat!" Rashida held the phone a ways from her ear, as the dam that was her sister exploded and dissolved into tears.

In the end Rashida had calmed her sister and reassured her that she would take to their parents, but after all that was finished, it was five o'fucking clock in the morning. And of course as soon she closed her eyes, she was awoken by a text from Kaden to meet at eight. Some people would have just shrugged it off and settled in for a few more minutes of sleep, but Rashida had to get up right then and there to start her 'fragrance ritual'. One of the few shitty things about being blessed by a cow god, was that all Hathmet's smelled like a barn, so Rashida often had to douse herself in perfume to smell at least a little nice. Last night however she had researched a way to smell better via incense, but it involved sitting in an enclosed space for two hours, which left her with only one hour to head to her workplace.

So when she walked into work Rashida was in a less than savory mood, running on less than an hour of sleep and smelling like a fortune teller's tent. "Morning." She grumbled under her breath.
 
  • Love
Reactions: Sir Salty
Alexandra Lancaster
e036ef94727d76719d4ce5b06a74ae2fd8c772bf_1_1.jpg
She woke up before her alarm. This didn’t bother her. It was a common practice for her already. The alarm was just a confirmation of what the time was without her having to strain her eyes to see through the blinding light from the damn phone, especially in her specially engineered room (mostly very, very, very thick curtains), made to restrict light from entering it from any angle whatsoever (mostly well-placed clothing clips at strategic points). She liked sleeping in the dark. What almost made her try to bite her own arm was, however, the message that preceded the alarm, lighting up her entire room like a bloody spotlight in an Antarctic winter. NOW, she had to get up from her soft covers. Cursing, she sat up, snatching her phone up from the bedside table and glanced at the name of the perpetrator who ruined her short moment of meditation.

BMCI: Quincy

For fuck--?” she muttered, and was about to slide her finger across the screen, when the alarm instead dominated it, and blared the climax of Bizet’s L’Arlesienne. She lost her collective shit at that moment.

Alexandra Lancaster hated mornings, and this wasn’t the first phone to have experienced the fury of a Verdugo in a very grouchy mood. Thankfully, this one survived the ensuing ordeal, barely, to display the message it received on its now cracked screen. As expected, it was job-related. The message was short, but devastating on so many levels.

The first was the fact it was almost Valentine’s. How many years has it been now? How many years has it been that she had spent this godforsaken day alone? She had taken it upon herself to forget all about it, but it always came back, year after year, to claim yet a tiny bit of self-pity. The next was that it was a meeting today. That meant sitting in a goddamn conference room and talking. Not particularly engaging activities. It also meant something important, which was nice. A drop of good luck in a sea of misfortune, as someone famous would say. Which brought her to the next point. She made a mental note to question Quincy about illegal substances that he shouldn’t be consuming, because whatever Bertrand Russell said wasn’t that important to put on a message asking for conference. She tossed her phone aside and got to work on freshening herself up.

----

I seriously doubt it’s chocolate we’re getting for Valentine’s, specially if it’s coming from Quin.” was her greeting when she finally pushed through the door to the conference room, chewing on a piece of beef jerky, a breakfast snack before, hopefully, a good slab of steak for lunch. She made her way towards one of the empty seats, her trenchcoat brushing across the other ones as she did. There was a thick, cloying smell in the room, and she didn’t need any help in knowing that it came from Rashida. Anyone with a regular sense of smell would have had their sinuses explode the moment she got close. Alexandra had a more sensitive nose than most, and it was getting close to straight up killing her. There was also the smell of fish, which was, naturally attributed to the fish kid. Skarrow, she remembered. Most of the others were there too, but their scents weren’t giving her a migraine, at least.

This was why she didn’t do conferences or meetings. She coughed, and drew a handkerchief from her coat, masking her mouth and nose with it, and faced the boss. “So, Quin, I see you’ve gotten started on the singles mixer with some of us. It’d be nice if you showed me you care. ” The golden eyes indicated the paperwork on the conference table.
 
  • Love
Reactions: Sir Salty
"It's a bit worse then chocolates." Buras said, handing Alexandra the file he was holding so someone else could get there opinion on it. "Personally I prefer sour cherries, but what ever. Morning Rashida. Rough morning?" At this point he was multitasking, wanting to greet everybody and answer Quincy at the same time. So he waved to the other two and said to Quincy, "I'm not sharing anything. If you want her cooking though I can ask her to make something for you. You'd have to stop by to pick it up though, I'm not a delivery boy." He fully expected a joke to be made about centaur couriers, but he wasn't sure where the joke would come from so he moved on and hoped a joke wouldn't be made.

"So are we going on a field trip to the crime scene? Or are these lovely pictures all we get for now? I mean don't get me wrong, the lighting is fabulous and the angle, perfect. But even I can do only so much with just a picture. And yeah, a couple witnesses would be nice. The people that they talked to before they died at least."
 
Aries' morning started around 3 am, she was always full of energy, and didn't seem to need much sleep to keep it in store. Her first task of every morning, being to take a shower. She used a body wash that made her smell like cotton candy, and her first time using it, she actually tried to eat her own arm...and the bottle of soap. But that's getting off topic. After her shower she usually got a bowl of cereal for breakfast, unless she could convince one of her neighbors to cook for her. It's not that she can't cook, but rather, her landlord took her stove away due to an incident where she got sidetracked and almost burnt the apartment complex she lived in down. Five times. In a single week.

She usually finished her shower by 3:30, 3:45 if she slept in later than usual, and breakfast by four. After which, having nothing to do, she either plays a video game, or colors in one of her many coloring books, or both, usually both. Today was a rare day however, in that she had just gotten a new game that actually managed to hold her attention, until she got a text. She had embarrassingly jumped, and through her controller across the room when her phone alerted her of the message.

For a moment or two, she simply stared at her phone, as if she wasn't actually sure it went off, or if it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But, as the phone was blinking, she assumed it couldn't be in her head, and read the message, after turning the phone on of course. Her eyes skimmed the message, not really reading any of it, until her eyes landed on 'valentines gift'. Those words made her eyes sparkle, and she jumped up and down excitedly, nearly flinging her phone in the progress.

She was so excited about the idea of a valentines gift, she didn't wait to leave till a more normal time. She left her apartment a whole hour earlier than normal. She usually walked to work, she only lived about 45 minutes away, and found it to be a good exercise. Usually she arrives on time... Okay, she's been distracted on the walk to work on multiple occasions, and has been late those times, but other than that she arrives on time.

Today, was not one of those days. You're probably wondering how she arrived late when she left an hour early? She started following a pretty kitty. It was black, with white spots on it's feet, and a white spot in the shape of a crude heart on it's left eye. She followed this cat all around town. For two hours. It wasn't until an alarm on her phone started blaring that she realized she had forgot about work. Silently cursing to herself, she continued her trek to work, somehow only arriving late by around ten minutes.

She immediately went to the meeting room, and burst through the doors with her usual cheery attitude. When she entered, she heard Buras mention a field trip. Which added further excitement. Valentines gift and a field trip, today was turning out to be rather exciting. She was about to ask Quincy about the 'gift' when she noticed the case files, and got a bit depressed, realizing the git was a metaphor for the case. She slumped into an empty chair, and waved at those who were there, mumbling a greeting.​
 
Last edited:
@Ruby.
@Viral
@PlainJoe
@The Wanderer
@Mundane Monster

EVERYONE

*Only those who haven't rolled before

Please make discovery rolls on your post. I will go through each of them and determine what you have not seen. Once this is has been done. I will go ahead and be moving the IC with the teams.
 
Jonah's alarm clock went off in a fury of beeps and sounds, but he'd already been up for hours. He'd been looking into various politicians twitter feeds and commenting thusly. He slithered over to his phone and clicked it off. Very well, he should get a shower and get ready.

He cinched the buttons on his blue shirt, slid on his gray waistcoat, and properly adjusted his white tie. He then ran some product through his blond hair and slid his glasses on. Right. He looked good enough. His phone beeped. He answered a few texts before sliding it into his jacket pocket.

Jonah opened the door to find Miss Muncers standing there in her intimidating red moo-moo, and her hair done up in rage rollers. "Where's my rent, Jonah?" she asked through puffs of her cigarette.

"I have it, right there." Jonah slithered away from her but hesitated. "Don't come in." He paused. "My place is a mess." Honestly, he wanted to tell her that the glamor she was seeing was that of an overly tall nerd instead of a massive naga that she could trip over.

Miss Muncers stood there, huffing through her cigarette like a coal train. Jonah gathered his check and slithered back to her. He handed it over. "Sorry about that, it's been a--"

"I don't care if you lost a leg. Next time you're late with rent, you're out!" She then slammed his door in his face, making Jonah hesitate. He exhaled. Would anyone really miss her if he ate her? Honestly, he was still processing a deer, but she could be his cuisine next week. No. No. That was not how the BCMI worked things. Jonah waited a few moments and then exited.

The reason he lived in this apartment complex was due to its never used freight elevator. It was supposed to be used for only move-ins and move-outs, but that rarely happened. So, Jonah used it to transport himself down. He then slithered into the alleyway and used back alleys and a bit of serpentine-parkour to get to his work.

Today was a bit different, though. Jonah slid into an alley that was usually barren to find a woman being threatened by a man with a knife. He asked for her money, and for her to hike her skirt up so he could "make it worth it." She fought against him, but he inevitably drew blood and she froze at the prospect of losing her life.

Surely this is one of those times where it is fine, Jonah told himself. Quickly he slithered to the other man. His glamor either made him look like a normal person or invisible. It was hard to tell. He latched his teeth into the man. He seized up and collapsed. The woman ran away. Jonah hovered there for a moment, having a moral dilemma about the entire thing. If the evil man was bound to do it once, he was bound to do it again.

Without thinking, because that was the best way to work things out, Jonah ate the other man... whole. It made the rest of his trip to BCMI awkward, but it was worth it. Jonah was keeping scum off the streets.

Jonah made his way into the BCMI headquarters, took the elevator, and sluggishly slithered through the various offices to where he should be. His human form remained unchanged, but his serpentine half had a very large, human-shaped lump in it. He smiled. Burped. But smiled again. "Apologies for my tardiness." Internally he hoped no one noticed the human size bundle in his tail. Yet, his excitement had to do heavily with the case on hand. It was very rare that he was summoned to these things. Usually, the used him for internal problems. So, he was a mixture of excitement and indigestion.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
  • Love
Reactions: Sir Salty
"Well, that makes no sense."

Jubilee chewed on her thumbnail as she shifted through the book's contents, eyes scanning beneath furrowed brows for anything that might help her tie her studies together. She sipped on her iced coffee, a frosty handprint left wrapped around the cup's sides as she set it back down on a nearby table. "If this... goes with that..."

She gave a shake to her head and pursed her lips as she delved into the thought. The only thing keeping her eyes from peeling shut was a good four hours of sleep and an unhealthy amount of caffeine; she couldn't help but obsess over what she didn't understand rather than sleep. Rubbing the bone between her eyes, she sighed, resigned. "More coffee."

She snapped the book shut and made another reach for her cup, but just as her fingertips had met with its surface, her cell phone chimed with the chorus from Frank Sinatra's "Witchcraft". Opting instead to grab her phone, she skimmed over the text from the Quincy. Gift? she thought, sliding her phone into her pocket. Is it too much to hope that this 'gift' is candy?

With a final sip of her iced coffee and a tie of her shoes, she left her apartment behind and headed straight for the station.

When she peeled open the BMCI's doors, she made a beeline for the coffee pot, made herself a cup more full of ice than coffee, and then dragged herself to the conference room. Almost half-asleep but jolting with the occasional twitch from all the caffeine, Jubilee plopped down in the nearest open seat. She greeted everyone with a small smile before taking a gulp of her coffee, peering at the case files on the table from over the rim over her mug. Her brows perked. Better than candy?

Solving cases was always an exciting adventure -- for the most part, at least. Having to piece together elements of a crime to figure out the hands behind it was a thrill; all the evidence and motives came together in some way or another, and when they did, they fit seamlessly. In that sense, it was a bit like research. Just with more death and lives at stake.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
@Mundane Monster

Third Photo

While Rashida looked over the grainy, poorly taken pictures it was becoming clear whoever took the photos was not Simone. Rashida was not use to photos so poorly taken, but something struck out to her in the third photo. While there was a lack of evidence in most of these photos, which showed the desperation of the poorly organized MIPD. Something struck out to her looking into one of the chest cavities of the female victim.

Did it? Were? She may have spotted the wilting, barely visible in the grainy photo, but were those leaves in the chest cavity? Examining the photos closely. There in fact leaves. Covered in blood.
@PlainJoe

Alexandra was not impressed with the lack of evidence. The MIPD were desperate, sloppy, unorganized, and it showed they did not respect the BMCI. She felt no need to examine photos, that had no time or careful thought placed in them. Shoving most of the photos aside. She expected the BMCI to be better in their findings, than the MIPD. Though there was a gut instinct beginning to emerge. Forming a thought.

Alexandra staring at the photos started to get the feeling she knew what this was. Not by name. But she too was a predator, wasn't she? It occurred to her. This was not a ritual.

All though evidence otherwise suggested it. From one predator to another. She knew this was not a ritual, something else. A hunt. People in their prime. Men and woman being overpowered. This was more like some of rite to prove ones worth.
@Ruby.

Aries was often distracted. Her ideas and thoughts fled like a rabbit may scurry off when you try to get close to it. So she was most surprised when the fourth photo made her focus on it. Focusing on something was quite scary and not quite the thing she wanted to do. Yet, she was drawn to it. And drawn to it because of one detail, and one detail alone. While the crime scene alone didn't yield anything.

She noticed something. Scary, her noticing something. It was tracks in the snow leaving the back door. Like hooves maybe, but most of the snow covered them up and they were too in the distance for the picture to really capture it.

@Tyrannosaurus Rekt

Jonah might has well lost his breakfast. The pictures were horrific and despicable to look at. Most of them were a carefully gory mess. But something struck out as different to him, while staring at the dead MIPD officer. Well, one it was in the middle of the street and whatever this creature was like to hunt in seclusion. It didn't want to be scene or draw attention.

So, why kill the officer in the middle of the street where someone could notice? Though mostly already covered, there were hooven like footprints. But last nights snow had covered most of them up. The frantic footsteps of the officer. Had these idiots even noticed the casing rounds?

The MIPD officer was not this things victim or preferred prey. This was the closet thing to perhaps, a fight. Even if the MIPD agent was completely overpowered, this inferred the officer and whatever creature had caused the other incidents had "struggled". The MIPD agent was completely overpowered, but it seemed it had killed the officer in perhaps a hypothetical self defense situation?

Could there perhaps been the intended victim still alive and the officer had gotten in the way? All of this was theory and speculation of course. But Jonah couldn't help, but considered the frantic footsteps, the casings buried in snow, and the fact that the thing hadn't dragged the officer into the back alleyway as some kind of theoretical proof.

@Dovahkiin

Jubilee knew a few things about this case. Her studies into magic, knew 1) this was not a ritual, magic users were not usually this strong nor did they require this many bodies. And because of the laws of magical rituals, if any were doing any rituals outside of the perceived Legal Days of Ritual. They'd do it in secret. Underground. And not draw attention to themselves. Necromancers never really wanted you to know what they were up to.

The 2) was that the MIPD officer was hastily done. Not done in its usual methodology. Rushed. Which meant the crime scene might be the one with the most evidence left behind. Perhaps a sample of the creature. Hans could deal with that, she hoped.

The other thing she knew was that this creature was sentient. It could think. It wasn't just some dumb predator or the bodies would have gotten more attention than they had been.
 
Aries' hyperactive nature wasn't always a bad thing, sure there were plenty of times that would make others say it's definitely a bad thing. But, her focus always bounces from place to place, and because of this, she tends to notice things. They might not always register and she might ignore them while taking note of a 'pretty butterfly'(a scenario which has happened on multiple occasions), but nobody could deny that this hyperactive 'sense' of hers was useful.

This was one of those times. When she started looking through the case, her focus bounced around the images like usual. However, she didn't land on something pointless, well, actually she did. And she was about to happily point this out to the others in her usual cheery manner. Her focus shifted before she could, to something more useful. It took her a bit to stare at what she had spotted as it wasn't very obvious at first glance.

Once she had sufficiently focused on the object she had found to identify it, or at least partially identify it, her hand shot up signifying she wanted attention. However, she didn't wait to be acknowledged, instead immediately yelling in a cheery tone that she had found what looked like hoof tracks. She didn't do this to be rude, but merely to let the others know of her discovery before her mind began to wander to another subject.​
 
JUBILEE


Fingers curled around her cup, Jubilee studied the photos through squinted eyes. So many bodies... No ritual-practicing mage would condone so much bloodshed, and even if by some off chance they felt especially gruesome, these practices were often performed in obscurity. This case seemed the antithesis; bodies were strewn out in the open to rot in the public eye in what looked like some sort of perverted display. Jubilee tapped a finger to her lip. Display of what?

Delving deeper into her examination, Jubilee scooted to the edge of her seat and sipped on her now watered-down coffee. The crime as a whole seemed rushed, and by the looks of it, its mastermind abandoned the scene in a hurry. Sloppy. Still, it seemed apparent that the crime was committed by someone -- the bodies weren't mutilated in the way they would have been had they been mauled by a predator. Someone thought this gore through.

"Doesn't seem like a ritual. Necromancers practice in secret, and even they aren't this bloodthirsty," she began. Careful to keep her frosted hands to herself, Jubilee pointed to one of the photos. "And it looks like our culprit left in a hurry. I'd bet they left some stuff behind for us at the scene."
[/hr][/hr]
 
Status
Not open for further replies.