<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td> Private for Chocobeans. 45 - Tessera - 81379 </td></tr></table> A shadow had fallen over the public eye of Ajita, its presence all over the news vids, but no details were released save one: a girl was missing from the Grader line. No one knew who, and behind the speculations laid the hushed din of parents calling in search of loved ones – any girl who had been out that bright Friday night. Enough were that one could sense the frayed nerves hovering about the majestic flying island. The sunny, even cheery Saturday morn felt out of place above the timid slivers of gossip and children trying to play despite the palpable understanding that something terrible had happened. Crisp autumn air sharpened the permeating tension - a day obscene in its beauty. The first thing to go right that morning just happened to be the late arrival of the media upon the scene – long after the police perimeter had been set up in fact. Hell must have frozen over, or an anonymous tip gone to the authorities alone, whichever your religion prescribes to. Speculation was abuzz, and the media buzzards edged in for whatever morsel could be found. In that, perhaps the second achievement could be found: nothing leaked from those behind the lines. Still, the questions were never ceasing. Just who was the victim? And what, exactly, had been done? The ‘dragons working the scene were under the gun, also literally. Answers were demanded from on high, answers that could be placed within a reassuring light, but most especially answers suited for the propaganda machine to latch on. Sadly, none of the above were readily available. Just a pair of light emerald wings nailed upon a back-alley brick wall. The membranes were scratched and battered, the supporting arms ended in stumps where a person should have been, and ‘No Future’ had been messily cut into their spread – one word to a wing. Their positions suggested that the victim had been parted of them after being nailed to the wall, and the amount of dried blood spattered over the area would reinforce the notion. A gruesome scene if ever there was one, but at least no corpse had been found - not yet. Preliminary blood typing had identified a female Grader, but little more had been done. After realizing exactly what they had, the regular police secured the line and made the call for those who would ensure that this investigation got done right in every sense of the word. Tgakeul Embatseduseymt Doyana Grader had already arrived; now questioning the sole witness who had been sequestered in one of the vans. Doyana was tasked to lead one investigation, Khaela Khaine the second - one to hunt the political realms, one to haunt the streets. But moreover, for such a personal attack, the personal touch of an old, trusted hand had been desired, and that was Khaela. To the latter, a young USR soldier had been gifted, their best field chemist in fact. All were assured, the situation was being taken that seriously. At 9:38, a black sedan deposited Khaela behind the police line, with his newly instated partner just a few minutes behind. The ruddy-brown and rather grim police Kugsuem on site approached the elder arden with a respectful nod, “Mr. Khaine, I’m Kugsuem Kehnor. We’re prepared to give you whatever assistance you need, whether that is showing you what we have, or just leaving you be." The tone of his voice suggested that he hoped for the latter, a certain thill having added some considerable lines of strain about the corners of his gray eyes.
Kheala removed his tinted sunglasses and looked into the dragons' gray eyes. He held out his hand, although the corners of his mouth remained stiff. There was no laughing to have, or even a smile he could give. It was strict business, and he was a rather anti-social fellow anyway. "Kugsuem.", nodding slowly. He handed a tea stained folder to the male, of which was labeled carefully. "E un dyemd sy tgauc em Ramathian vyj myf." he said sternly. Khaela always was more comfortable communicating in his native toung. "Glauta, vyllyf na, E uljaupi huba pasuelt yv sha kuta." he answered in a serious tone. He had already used his forceful magic to find out what he needed to know. There was only clues to be found and time to be used, correctly. He marched over to the wall of where the dried blood remain. A clumsy oaf had created such a mess, and was obviously too dense to even bother cleaning the scene of the crime. He would locate the criminal, and they would fall to the ground.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry for the wait. Illness has killed my ability to write for the past five days, and this morning hasn't even been all that grand for finishing the thing. Meh life.</td></tr></table> “Baji fall," Kehnor replied as he stepped in behind Khaela. As much as the Kugsuem tried, a discerning ear could readily tell that he was no native speaker of Ramathian. “Fa uja tsell sjiemd sy vemp januemt yv sha ussukcajt, ros huba hup my lokc. Ull sha rlyyp ump voj ralymdt sy sha beksen." A pair of crime scene technicians were still bent to the task of tagging various blood splatters and other random bits and pieces in the hope to find something from one of the assailants. At a nod from Kehnor, the technician crouching before the dismembered wings skittered off to the side and began her work anew – most specifically well out of the dark arden’s way. The rest of the information was left to Khaela’s reports to fill in. That being, a bolt driver had been used to nail the wings to the wall - bits of pulverized gray brick were freely strewn about the area - and a simple butcher’s cleaver had done the deed of dismembering the wings. But perhaps more interestingly, at least two assailants were needed, and the crime had every appearance of being done quickly. Given the general mess and all, they should be finding plenty of evidence; they just weren’t. So far, all they really had was the witness, and luck was on their side to have one at all, standing in an odd corner deep between two old office buildings as they were. When the victim was finally identified, they would hopefully have something else. Streams of dried blood marred the dusty gray brick a dark maroon, descending from each wing stub to a slight pool at the base of the wall. Slashed splatters extended over the black pavement from the cleaver’s two end swings. A few clumps of emerald fur and slivers of flesh intermingled with random bits of litter – generally crushed gray and yellow leaves scattered against the walls, tattered bits of faded paper and wrappers here and there, a lone sliver of brown glass at the blood-pool’s edge, and even a few cigarette butts rested alongside the fresh chunks of brick rubble and dust. Around a short corner in the wider alley sat a big, rusted metal dumpster half-filled with plastic bags and loose garbage. Behind the flock of reporters, Sah`Dja emerged from a police cruiser that had just pulled up. The golden thill bent back down to offer a sweet ‘Thank You’ to the driver and lightly shut the door. It sped off as she straightened the hem of her seldom worn, USR-issue uniform and then ran her palms down her hips in the vain hope that all the wrinkles might disappear. <span style='color:#EC056F'> Oh Well. I’m never going to get use to clothes.</span> A final moment was spent to collect herself for what was a serious and terrible occasion, then she started forward in parade stride for the gaggle of cameras and pretty-faced reporters. Before, Sah`Dja had been of small note within the comings and goings of investigators and the like, but now attention firmly swung her way. ‘Oh, the USR officer,’ all their expressions suddenly seemed to say. She almost couldn’t believe they had given her the first and only silver pip on her collar just for this. They quickly descended upon her as the first newsworthy tidbit since the arrival of Khaine, and unlike Khaine, she was in the open and imminently questionable. <span style='color:#EC056F'>“Please, step aside,"</span> Sah`Dja intoned in an officious manner amidst the clamor of voices. Her arm moved to part the way and allow her to push through to the police line. She only just held back the smile and cheerful wave and felt the corners of her mouth disobey the command not to grin. Thankfully, she made it through and handed her order chit to one of the guards who examined it briefly and waved her on. A quick duck beneath the yellow tape and she doubled the pace down the alley; the powers that be had already made it plain that she had started late after all. Sah`Dja rounded the final bend and stopped in her tracks with a light gasp, <span style='color:#EC056F'>“Oh my."</span>
Khaela nodded once more, scanning the entire surface area of the wall, for any clues which could be of use. The murderer was cunning, a daring fellow, but he was not exactly as clever as he had expected. "Vyyleth yma." he laughed, hands surrounded by azure orbs. The magical force clashed into the blood stained walls, showing something of which the authorities had been blinded from. The auzure magic stretched out across the ground, forming a rather odd pathway. Of course, he was the only one who could see the way. "Shai uja em shus roelpemd." he directed, refering to an old shopping center a few blocks away. "Sha ussukcajt uja ulty hepemd shaja, ump vjyn myf ym E toddats fa suca ymli u vaf doujpt ump embatsedusa." he whispered to the Kugsuem, pulling up the silver hood attached to his cloak.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry again for the wait, been very occupied with life as of late. Meant to, but really should have mentioned the delay though. </td></tr></table> “E pym’s shemc shus et sha rats kyojta yv ukseym," Doyana Grader intoned, having inconspicuously approached the pair from behind. The news of Khaine’s arrival had finally reached the thill, so of course she took a moment to greet him, and just at the moment to observe his discovery of the location of the criminals. “Azkota na u nynams fhela E kull em u guej yv uttuols saunt ump taul yvv sha roelpemd." She turned from them and barked a series of quick orders into her headset, then glanced back with the faintest of sly grins, “Fums sy haup em fesh u saun? E’n toja iyo jananraj hyf sy das es pyma." He would likely make the headlines too. Sah`Dja pushed aside the momentary shock of actually being on the scene and seeing this sort of horror with her very own eyes. She moved forward with a return to resolute calm and sought out her temporary new boss, who just happened to be right there now that she looked. Another attempt to straighten her uniform, and then she stepped just outside his present circle of company which seemed to amount to everyone who meant something on the scene. They knew who she was, and she knew who they were, so Sah`Dja felt no real need to announce her arrival. They would get to her when they were good and really, and really, she might as well have been just another of the techs studiously doing their job.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry, I don't have time for this thread anymore. Times have changed, and I need to bid my farewell.</td></tr></table>
Oh, I see. Well if you ever feel the need to open it up again we can. =] I was also having some trouble being on RaL but i'm pretty much back now.
