Fidpui, 7 Mia 81383, 21:00 <blockquote><p align="justify">Faida paused the recording she had been watching and, with a sigh, looked down at paperwork that was splayed over her desk. Since getting involved in this case, she had spent much of her time mulling over files and watching recordings of interviews. It was tiresome, but Faida couldn’t deny her interest. Sifting through the files, she examined the photographs from the various crime scenes using a magnifying glass. Her vision was never good, but she still could see to some degree, thankfully. She unearthed her notebook from the mess and scribbled a few more notes before setting down the magnifying glass. She pushed herself away from the table, her chair legs scratching gruffly against the floor. Rising, she stretched, her arms reaching towards the ceiling, and yawned loudly. Her eyes were tired and she knew she couldn’t keep up the pace. Normal ‘dragons could likely stare at the same paper for hours on end, but Faida’s eyes often cried out for a rest every hour or so. She knew she wasn’t being kind to them, but the urgency to solve this case was at an all-time high. It had to be for Oran to place her on the team—a college student with no experience in the field. Still, her theories seemed to impress him, so she couldn’t be that useless. Caiaphas said, after all, Oran wouldn’t waste his time with someone he thought wasn’t worth it. <i>Still</i>, Faida mused, scratching the back of her neck, her face twisted in a thoughtful scowl. She knew she was missing something. <i>Something</i> was nagging at the back of her mind. Some sort of vital detail that was overlooked. Another sigh came forth, more frustrated than the last, as she wandered to her apartment’s kitchen. She pulled a kettle out from one of her lower cabinets and, filling it with water, put it on the stove. Turning the igniter, the burner came to life, beginning to heat the kettle. Faida reached into one of her upper cabinets and pulled out a box of tea, her mind lost in thought and her body on auto-pilot. She, then, pulled a cup from another overhanging cupboard and, placing a small tea bag into the empty cup, she waited for the kettle to whistle. In the meantime, she absent-mindedly chewed on her bottom lip, her hazy eyes staring blankly at the cup curled in her grasp. The high-pitched squeal of the kettle brought Faida out of her thoughts and, turning the burner off, she poured the hot liquid into the small cup. Placing the kettle back on the stove and leaning her rump against the oven handle, Faida blew on her tea and brooded some more. Something was missing. Something was definitely missing, but Faida couldn’t place <i>what</i> exactly. She hated this feeling: the feeling of knowing but not being able to remember what exactly it was. She took a sip of her tea before bouncing off the handle and returning to her desk. She loomed over it and stared emptily at the papers across it, her eyes unable to focus. She took another sip of her tea and walked away, slumping onto her small couch. She placed her cup of tea on the small coffee table next to her and threw her arm over her closed eyes. They hurt and only caused Faida to feel more irritated. There was something she was overlooking.</p></blockquote>
OOC Notes: <i>'Afwan</i> - "you're welcome" <i>Ab/Abba</i> - "father" <i>Bint</i> - "daughter" <i>Shukran</i> - "thank you" <blockquote><p align="justify">Faida’s ears twitched as she heard the lock on her door rattle. Most would be alarmed, but Faida knew exactly who it was. Since her father had been hired as the embalmer for the victims, he had to come to Watani to assist the police. Rather than lodging in a hotel, Caiaphas was staying with his daughter. Faida didn’t mind. After coming to Watani for her studies, she had come to miss her parents greatly. Although she was happy to see her father and have him near, she felt extremely sorry for her mother. Inaya hadn’t the time to take off from work and come along with her husband to Watani. Faida felt that Inaya was, surely, quite lonely. “<i>Bint</i>, I’m home!" Faida heard her father call. She could hear him removing the shoes from his feet and a small sigh emit from his maw when he finally kicked them off. “Welcome home, <i>Abba</i></b>," she greeted. She didn’t correct her posture or even remove her arm from over her eyes to look towards the doorway. “There’s a hot kettle on the stove, if you’d like to make some tea." Caiaphas came into the small living room, behind the small couch, and placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “<i>Shukran</i>," he said with a smile. “<i>‘Afwan, Abba</i>." Faida heard her father’s footsteps move towards the kitchen and then heard a cupboard open. A mug was removed and a thick <i>clunk</i> sound resonated as Caiaphas set the mug on the counter. Another cupboard was opened and Caiaphas sifted through the boxes of tea until he found the one he wanted. Hot water was poured and a small sipping sound came from the kitchen before a satisfied <i>aaah</i>. Caiaphas then returned to the living room. Faida knew he was standing over her desk; she could hear him sifting through the paperwork that was strewn across it. “Any luck so far?" Faida breathed another frustrated sigh. She really didn’t want to think about the case, but, at the same time, she did. She wanted to find that missing piece; that valuable, crucial piece that would make all the pieces fall into place. “Not really," she muttered finally. It seemed then that Caiaphas noticed how his daughter had her arm over her eyes, shielding them from the well-lit apartment and the objects within it. “Your eyes are hurting," he stated simply. Faida nodded in response and a crooked smile curved across her muzzle. “I stared at the papers too long. I’m sorry, <i>Abba</i>." Caiaphas shook his head even though his daughter couldn’t see him doing so. “Don’t worry about it. Just rest for awhile, then we can look over the files again together. How’s that sound?" “Sounds good, <i>Ab</i>." Faida gave a thumbs-up with her free hand. Caiaphas laughed and then took a seat beside his daughter. The couch suddenly became very cramped. It wasn’t because Caiaphas was a large ‘dragon. He was quite lean, but the couch was just that small. It was more like a love seat – a very personal love seat. Caiaphas sighed at this, for he was feeling as cramped as Faida. “We really need to get you a bigger couch," he muttered. “Can’t. Any larger couch would be too big for the room," Faida stated. Caiaphas wasn’t pleased and he <i>hmph</i>ed with displeasure. A silence finally settled in the small apartment and the two ‘dragons sat together in silence. Faida still rested her arm over her eyes and Caiaphas sipped his tea, staring at the desk that loomed on the other side of the room. He stroked the little beard of fur on his chin as he thought silently for a moment, his eyes squinting slightly with suspicion. “Do you remember about four years ago, there was that unsolved murder?" “That one Mohir called Alfarsi* in for?" Caiaphas nodded. “It involved a thill – Kisura Awa’taka, I think was her name. Anyway, they found her with her throat slit from ear to ear. The murder wasn’t exactly as clean as these ones have been (and definitely not as creative), but it might be worth looking into." Faida’s body became as still as the dead, but her mind reeled rapidly. That was it! <i>That was it!</i> Faida flew up from her slouched position and plucked her cellphone from her pocket. She dialed Oran’s number and, pressing the phone to her ear, listened to the other end ring. Caiaphas, bewildered by his daughter’s reaction, finally asked, “Who are you calling at this hour?" “O-o-o-oran, of c-c-course!" Faida’s voice was excited, almost frantic. A tired “hello" greeted her on the other line. “H-h-hey, O-oran? I’m s-sorry t-t-to bother you, but I-I-I need you t-to d-d-do something f-for me. I n-need you to p-p-pull a c-cold case from the a-a-archives. K-kisura A-awa’t-taka was the victim’s n-name. Happened about f-f-four years ago. Yeah. I’ll meet you at the s-station in t-t-ten minutes, okay? O-okay. B-b-bye." Faida pocketed her cell and rushed to the door, shoving her shoes on her feet. As she stomped her shoes on (as she was sure she’d hear about it from her downstairs neighbors), she snagged her coat from the closet and pulled it on. “Where are you going?" Caiaphas asked, almost casually. It wasn’t hard to follow his daughter’s train of thought once she got this riled up. “T-t-to the s-station, <i>A-a-abba!</i>" Faida called as she threw open the front door. “Alright. Just calm down before you get there or Oran won’t be able to understand a word you’re saying!" Caiaphas called after her as the door slammed shut. He heard an “o-o-okay" from outside the door before the running footsteps faded.</p></blockquote> *Alfarsi is one of Caiaphas' co-workers. He was called in for enbalming the dead thill during that investigation.
Light grey finger tips swept the brim of a black leather hat at his driver and closed the door behind him. The rush of air from the car kicked up the tail of Oran's coat as he slid sideways through a small gap in the crowd, leading with his opposing hand to ensure the space he intended to fill. "Keep a low profile Cipher, you're not bullet-proof." Mohir wasn't a detective for nothing. He knew how to state the obvious, but isn't that what most failed to notice? In reality, the bandaged officer didn't fancy another round in him. There was little he could do about his limp as he flashed his badge at the station staff, opening a side passage door to escape the main flow of bodies. The monochromatic psycho-forensic graduate. Couldn't they just call him a cop? He shook his head slowly. This case shouldn't have taken more than a week... The Damned Chevron; the Chafuo Department of Justice; bodies turning up left, right and centre, each with a different approach and a consistent message. There were more rumours than facts, and it did nothing but slow his travels. The media hounded him for answers, but what could he have expected when Mohir stepped down? Thankfully he'd avoided the press for several weeks. A dry tongue rubbed against his equally rough teeth. Too many hours thinking, not enough looking after himself. Shrugging his shoulders up to his jaw, flexible lapels lightly slapped the sides of his face with but a mere dusty pf sound. Stroking the rear sights of his carbon-fibre handgun, he was reminded of the old adage: "If you want a job done right, do it yourself." Maybe the killer was raised with the same proverb. Maybe the whole family was in on it. Maybe it wasn't a killer - could it be a circle? A triad? Oran didn't know if he could rely on Thill Mehrdad, but many other avenues had turned up cold, and others were beginning to form crystals. If Caiaphas was anyone with whom Faida could be compared, then the probability of unreliability was more slim than a fresh face from somewhere on Ramath-lehi, looking more for fame than results. Steely eyes - aged well beyond their years - peered out from under the rim of the hat as he turned to face down the station platform. "Faida. Punctual. Kisura Awa'taka?" Lifted from an inside pocket came a stylish - yet technical - Personal Data Assistant, and set it down atop a 3 persons bench. "Awa'taka; 17. Four years ago found bled out in her dormitory at Honnem. No witnesses. Blank suspect, but we have DNA. You'll find T.O.D. and C.O.D. here..." He patted the screen. "... Along with the usual scene photography. Made any head-way?" Oran tilted his head further back, showing more signs of the fatigue caused by this case. He wanted resolution - fast - but regrettably he knew he couldn't pressure Faida too much. He flicked the cap off a bottle hidden up the sleeve of his jacket, allowed the translucent blue container to slide into his palm and brought it to his lips here he paused for a moment. Medicine and energy drinks were a bad mixture. A swig rushed down his throat and left him with a rubbery texture in his mouth. Pushing the cap back on with his thumb, he dropped it into a small pouch beside his firearm.
<blockquote><p align="justify">Faida had been waiting impatiently for Oran to arrive. She had managed to calm down, her stuttering lessening, but she was still very anxious about reviewing the case of Kisura Awa’taka. It had to be the link and although the murderer had never been identified, it was something. It was progress and that’s what this case needed. Faida hoped that if the current murderer was confirmed to be the same as the murderer of Kisura Awa’taka, things would start falling into place. Maybe they could learn something from Kisura’s file that wasn’t in the recent victims files. Faida sighed. This had to be it. Her ears perked and her head shot up as she heard Oran’s voice at the entryway of the station. He was late, but he was also extremely tired. Typically, Faida would comment on tardiness, but it was probably best to give the poor fellow a break. After all, he was recovering from a bullet wound and he had a lot on his mind. Faida was supposed to be easing those frustrations, not causing them. Thus, she decided to keep her mouth shut. She kicked up from the table, her rump rising away from its resting place, as Oran came near. He greeted her in his own curt way and Faida nodded. “Oran. And, yes, Kisura Awa’taka." Oran took a seat at the table she had been leaning against and Faida watched anxiously as he pulled out his PDA. He pulled up the cold case and Faida loomed over her shoulder, her eyes studying the small screen, but seeing little, unfortunately. Her eyes were still tired from her heaving studying earlier. Irritated, Faida pulled a chair from nearby and, placing the seat next to Oran, sat down in it, still looming. Thankfully, Oran was kind enough to read the information out loud. “Maybe. We need to p-pull the evidence from Suju’Jai and Krishna case and run a comparison b-between the DNA samples of these two cases. What else does the file say? I’m sorry, b-but my eyes have taken about all they can t-tonight. “I also n-noticed that there was no file on Caiohme Kaie. Did you not do a report on her?"</p></blockquote>
Oran leant away from the wound. He had to allow the skin to grow fully instead of encouraging minimal growth and for tearing to occur. There were some facts he did dislike. He heard her starting to stutter again. She sounded like a plan was formulating, but, like the good little detective he was, he'd flow with it. "The Suju'jai case... Yes..." A hand disappeared up out of view under his hat as he rubbed the stress from his right eye. There was something refreshing about talking about linking two cases together, instead of stirring a cooling coffee over the same canteen table passing ifs, buts and maybes around between colleagues on the same stale case, day in and day out. The same hand that went to his eye copped hold of the rim of the hat and lifted it off his shortly cropped skull, whereupon he placed it on the corner nearest him. "It's..." He was tempted to point out that the single black hair was the only piece of genetic evidence they collected, so if Faida was wrong, she might end up destroying their only possible way of catching the killer. But if it was their only real connection, then why not take the chance - even if the chances were slim yet realistic? "... I'll call it in and get you the files to your place. We'll do the testing here and keep you appraised - like always. But is there any more on the Suju'Jai case?" He scratched his head and squinted up at the ceiling, trying to recall all the details. His hand trailed down to cup the back of his ear. His eyes closed and puffed. "The Aquabats. We talked with them. They say there was a - disturbance early on. They'd seen somebody in the water, but couldn't tell who it was or if what they were looking at was another Pack Member. It's circumstantial with Aquabats. They'll tell you one thing one day and another thing the next..." He took another swig from his bottle. The more often he drank from it, the less he disliked the after taste. "No. We didn't fully report on Caiohme Kaie. The media got more than we did. She seems fine. Why do you ask about her specifically?"
<blockquote><p align="justify">Faida knew she was running a risk with the single hair sample they had, but she also knew that the data of the sample could be stored in the lab computer. If they ever needed to run another comparison analysis, they could just pull up the old data and run the comparison with the new sample. Either way, Faida was sure that they were safe in running this comparison. They’d just have to tell the forensics lab to store the data for future use. She hid a smile as Oran tried to pull the Suju’Jai case from his memory. That hadn’t been the case she inquired about, but she supposed it was because they were both very tired. She hadn’t clarified which case she had been referring to and poor Oran just needed a break from the case. She knew she was running him ragged right now. She was certain the last place he wanted to be tonight was at the station. Tonight was supposed to have been his night off and she dragged him back in here. Faida sighed, feeling rather guilty now. But it really couldn’t have been helped, she concluded finally. He was the director of this case – she needed his approval for everything. She probably shouldn’t ask him anymore questions tonight, though. She’d have a copy of the case file for Kisura Awa’taka and then she could review them at home. She wouldn’t bother Oran with giving her the details now. Still, she really wished she could read over the case. She rubbed her temples, her eyes sore again from the lights and all the objects in the station. <i>Stupid eyes</i>, she thought to herself. Oran brought Faida out of her thoughts when he asked about Caiohme Kaie. He seemed confused, which surprised Faida quite a bit. Although she had come out fine from whatever incident she faced (aside from her mysteriously changed pelt colour), it seemed to Faida like common sense to do a full report on the incident. Maybe cops and detectives just sat too closely to the picture… “I ask because I think she might know something about the m-murderer. Don’t you think it strange that Caiohme goes missing and r-reappears suddenly with a new coat? Also, that her <i>arden’sla</i> is found dead two days later? I think she had a run-in with our m-mysterious killer. She might have something that can help us." It was curious, too, that the murderer (assuming Caiohme had encountered him) let Caiohme live and killed her arden’sla. And why didn’t she seem to notice her pelt had changed colours? Did she dye it? Faida’s brows furrowed. That didn’t make sense. ‘Dragons dyed portions of their pelt, <i>sometimes</i>, but even then it was very rare. Faida certainly had never met a pendragon that dyed his pelt – only his hair. “Hmm… I’ll definitely have to talk with her. It just doesn’t add up any without assuming she’s seen him," Faida murmured, almost inaudibly, to herself.</p></blockquote>
There was nothing quite like being told you've done your job wrongly. He had to stop being so negative, though. Faida was doing exactly what he'd hired her to do. "Yes. It is odd. She doesn't seem concerned in the least. Perhaps there's something about Kaie we don't know." Straightening himself in his chair, Oran did something he didn't normally do: he looked Faida directly in the eyes. "Someone's not talking to us. If Kisura and Suju'jai come back positively linked, Mehrdad, then you and I will do this more often." He seriously considered what resources he had at his disposal. "What do you need to do your job?"
<blockquote><p align="justify">She knew she struck a nerve. Although she couldn’t see his face clearly, the colours surrounding him (for there were many) all suddenly turned a darker hue. She struck his pride and seemed to have struck it rather hard. But the colours evened out and returned to their normal shades. He mused a little then, finally seeming to see things as Faida did. His eyes caught hers then and, though her eyes were bleary, she looked right back into his. Perhaps it was the Anubi in her that allowed her to look so confidently back at him; so certain in her convictions. Her mother never showed such a stubborn sort of backbone. “What do you need?" A brilliant and promising question! Faida couldn’t hide the smile that crossed her face. It was rare that she smiled and, right now, she was beaming. She knew Oran wasn’t used to trusting others and he was putting a lot of trust in her. He was also putting pressure, but Faida, honestly, cared little about either of those, presently. “I need the case file for Kisura Awa’taka, a blank report sheet for Caiohme Kaie, and Kaie’s information, if you have it. If not, I’ll swing by her work tomorrow and get the information there. And, if that’s the case, I think I’m going to need a warrant. “Also, you tell the forensics lab to call me the <i>minute</i> they get the results for that comparison."</p></blockquote>
The moment Faida was finished, Oran firmly planted the palm of his hand on the table. Somewhat confident that young Mehrdad would pursue the loose ends left over during his investigation, he nodded affirmatively. "Take the PDA. I'll update it with everything we have on Kisura. I can get you a report sheet; her details may take a little while longer. Let me know when you're heading out, when you arrive, and when you leave. As for forensics?" Cipher reseated his hat and brought the brim low once more. "I'm in charge. You'll know. Nui sha femp ra us iyoj rukc, Mehrdad." Awkwardly, the detective pushed himself from the table, roughly pushing the chair back and away to one side, before turning his back on Faida and retracing his steps to a waiting driver, begrudgingly swigging the vile medicine again as he limped around the corner.
<blockquote><p align="justify">Faida nodded. She had Oran’s word and his word was the best she could ask for. She knew he wouldn’t go back on it. Taking his PDA, she placed it in her pocket, noting that she’d have to keep it on her person at all times, for risk of losing it. She’d rather not cause trouble for him (his life was probably packed into this little hand-held device) and she hardly had the money to buy him a new one. “I’ll be sure to let you know." Faida followed Oran’s lead and rose from her seat, replacing the chair to where it originally was found. She followed Oran out the door and proceeded down the street. Faida had to admit, it was quite convenient, living ten minutes away from her job. “Good night, Oran! And remember: save the DNA profile from the Suju’Jai and Krishna case to the computer, just in case we need it again," she called over her shoulder, putting her hand up as a final wave. She disappeared down the street, her hand clutched around the PDA in her pocket. She was eager to review the file, but she knew she couldn’t tonight. Her eyes were just too tired. <i>But tomorrow’s another day.</i></p></blockquote>
