DAY EIGHT (morning)

[judgejudy]

DAY 8 (morning) Complex Population: 19 It's 8AM, and you wake from that deep, dreamless sleep that enforces curfew as always. Of course, some of you might be waking up due to a rather alarming reason. — NOTE: This day post will be run slightly differently because of the large amount of things to be discovered. Please indicate where your character is in the subject line of your toplevel, and a mod will reply to conduct the investigation. Please note that some areas may be dangerous, and your characters may be injured, but characters will not be killed (unless you want them to be). This post is for the second day as defined in the schedule. This post is for investigation and general mingling before the trial that takes place in the afternoon IC. ic rulebook character statuses character profiles private conversations graveyard

Comments

[newlugers]

What?

[ comes the whiny don't-wake-me-up-mom call of one Mr. Burnside as he forces himself awake. Doing so becomes a lot easier once he becomes aware of the smoke and the smell of something burning. He's quick to fling himself from the couch onto his feet, take one look at the fire, then -- ]

Angel, the blankets! Now!

[injectors]

I'm on it!

[With no time to waste, she rips the blankets off their sleeping arrangements before the fire can spread to anything else. Her intent is clear; she plans to stomp the smaller ones out and douse the rest out with the faucet — but she doesn't get very far from the bed.

Not with the sudden, audible jolt of electricity coming from her collar. It's far too familiar, but familiarity doesn't do shit to keep her from dropping the (still burning) sheets on her foot and then ramming her elbow into the wall as she takes a sudden step back. Sorry, Steve. Give her a second and she'll be of more use here. Maybe.]

[newlugers]

[ ok, what the fuck. Steve has no idea what's wrong with her - he just woke up and is rather preoccupied with the actual fire in their room, so he hasn't noticed the collar - but tacks that onto the list of things to worry about. Once the blaze is no longer blazing, anyway.

The good news is that he is actually fairly quick-thinking and reliable in an emergency. Angel stumbles, but he's quick to rush forward when she does, snatching the burning blankets away as quick as he can (hope your toes didn't get too burned there) and shoving them into the sink gracelessly. He wrenches the faucet on and hopes to god it's not a grease fire. ]

How the hell did this happen?! Did that geezer forget to put out his cigar or something?

[ speaking of, that geezer sure is sleeping pretty soundly in his bed, isn't he...? maybe someone ought to check on him... ]

merging!!

[estimated]

[ so he's just going to watch angel and steve take care of the fire, because thankfully, the fire didn't seem too threatening? and they seem to have it under control now, after shoving the burning blankets into the sink and allowing the faucet to run.

but since they both seem to be busy in the kitchen, dazai speaks up. ]

I'll check.

[ and then, he'll reach right over and give dickson's shoulder a careful nudge, with his hand. the floor is a spacious place to sleep. ]

Dickson? Are you awake?

[judgejudy]

[ Dickson doesn't stir at all. It's like he's peacefully, deeply asleep... At least minus the fact that his chest isn't rising or falling at all. ]

[injectors]

[She's hissing through her teeth, trying to ignore the pain from her elbow, the minor burn on her foot and the electricity still lingering on her body, but once Dickson is brought up? She pushes through it and glances at wherever Dickson is laying. At first glance, he seems fine...]

I don't see any cigars, Steve... Perhaps—

[Perhaps — what? She's keying in on the lack of movement after a beat, a lump suddenly forming in her throat. Shit.]

—Oh, no. [Shit. Shit, shit. Shit.] ... I don't think he's breathing.

[newlugers]

[ good news: the fire is not a grease fire, and it is also small. Shoving the blanket in the sink and dousing it with water seems to smother it fairly quickly. Once that's over with, he lets out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing at his eyes tiredly...

... but the fun isn't over yet, apparently. ]

Wait, what? What did you say?

[ hopping over to Dickson's bedside, himself. ]

Dammit!

[estimated]

[ once they've all gathered around the floor, dazai will roll him over, so that he's laying on his back — and stares at him intently, in which he gleans a whole lot of information in a short amount of time (including the fact that he's, well, probably not with them anymore). but aside from that, are there any actual injuries on him?

just in case, he'll try the old technique of pressing his ear against his chest. ...nope, nothing, as he sits back up. ]

He's not breathing. Do you think he's...?

[judgejudy]

[ He has a deep cut on the back of his shoulder and the back of a knee, but the most readily apparent will be the way his head moves when they move Dickson. His neck is broken.

At least they won't have to look far for the weapon, since his Sabre is bloody, but sitting next to his bed as it always does. ]

[newlugers]

[ that's pretty brutal. Steve's seen plenty of desecrated corpses thanks to Umbrella, so he can stomach it better than the average person, but the fact that it's someone he knew - and someone who might have been killed right in the room with him - makes it a bit more unsettling. ]

They snapped his neck. Stupid old man probably managed to piss off the wrong person... [ yeah, he still doesn't like dickson much, but his voice is more grim than disparaging. He turns to the Sabre with a frown, gingerly reaching out to touch it with one fingertip, then glances around the area they found him for any more clues on what might have happened. ]

[injectors]

Or, perhaps, we all angered the wrong person. I don't need to remind you we could have burned to death in this room.

[Grimmacing. The smell of smoke and blood is heavy in the air, and she is not doing well thanks to the collar on her neck, but there's nothing to be done about that for the moment. Dickson was still pretty nice to her, despite being a jerk, so... Ugh.]

It doesn't seem like the fire had much time to spread... Do you believe he's been dead for several hours?

[She has zero forensics skills, so the most she can do is determine if he's hot, cold or lukewarm. That said, she will glance around to see if there are any matchsticks, lighters or obvious places where the fire could have originated.]

[estimated]

Is that all, though?

[ dazai knows his way around forensic work, so while a broken neck is pretty convincing, he'll just check dickson over for any more injuries — and locates the deep cut across his shoulder, through the blood that's seeped into his blue jacket. how long ago was the cut made? additionally, due to the cut going across his shoulder, is his jacket also slashed there? ]

He also has a cut, right here. He should have been dead for several hours, but from what we learned a few days ago, we can die at any time of the night.

[judgejudy]

[ There aren't any firestarting materials around; the source of the fire seems to have been the now-charred blanket. Dickson's body is lukewarm, but thanks to said fire, it's difficult to say whether it's residual body heat or a result of the increased temperature of the room. The cut on his shoulder pierces through his jacket, and seems to have been made several hours ago.

There's a trail of blood ending around his body that leads out of the door of their apartment. It looks like he was being dragged. ]

[estimated]

[ since the trail does manage to pique his curiosity, dazai pushes himself up to his feet and decides to see where the trail leads, stepping outside of the room to follow it.

where does it lead? ]