[ eight o'clock in the morning rears its ugly head around the corner and Bigby is woken up in a way that jars him. what the hell kind of noise did he just hear through the intercom? it made the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand, and before Judy's voice passed on the bad news, he was already expecting the worst. it was only a matter of time.

when he properly digests the words, however, he's pulling himself from the couch and sitting on the edge, taking a look at his roommates to make sure they were all there and not missing or lying on the floor dead. ]

A death. I heard that right, yeah? Of fucking course there's a death.

[ it didn't take long for Bigby to get to where all the commotion was. with his tie still hanging off his shoulders and his shirt half-buttoned, it was clear he didn't take a lot of time in getting dressed. not when the first eventful thing since waking up here has occurred. if only it was for better reasons. one good look through the glass separating the group from the dead body and that was all it took to have him scowling. anyone that's gotten to know him may expect him to try and break through immediately. it's the one time where it's justified after all.

Bigby isn't an idiot, however, and he can tell from a few taps of his finger that it was too thick to get through under conventional means. if he had his more... supernatural talents... that would be a different story. alas. he's certainly going to smoke a cigarette while he takes a look around his surroundings, all before resting his eyes on the motionless body of a young child. poor kid. ]

We need to get in there. Broken and battered as he may be, we need to confirm he's deceased. Anyone know his name? What apartment he was staying in?

[ regardless of the murder investigation's results, Bigby wasn't going to stop there. he recalled hearing Judy talking about new information being available in the terminals and went to the one that he could first think of. the guidelines were digested with an incredible amount of skepticism, only equal to his frustration that this was actually happening right now.

it's the trial part that (understandably) has him worried. he studies as much as he can before taking a step away, and eventually asks questions to himself. feel free to try and answer or question along with him if you are nearby. ]

We're supposed to hold a trial and ― what, just guess who the fuck killed the kid? In the same day as the goddamn murder? And the trial is seven hours long. What are we expected to find out?

―This is bullshit.