For Bucephalus!

[Shinigori V2]

Mission: 1- Crimes and Misdemeanors
Location: Bucephalus- Military District
December 10th, 3756
12:20 PM.

Winter in the Empire. Bucephalus is blanketed in a think blanket, with more falling. The snowy season- Cold and messy. Cars slog through the streets, sheltering occupants from the snow. Those who don't want to deal with big city traffic walk on the sidewalks- Though that can be just as bad; the tall buildings create a wind tunnel through through the streets, blowing a harsh, cold wind and snow into the heart of the city.

The holidays are approaching- Trees are decorated with lights and ornaments, lights hang from several of the buildings, and the two million person populace of Bucephalus is largely out shopping.

This is when the city can get dangerous.

Several members of the military- And the normal police force- Get a call on their radios. Any available on duty Military police, civilian police, or even just plain military are to report to the Imperial Guard HQ in the military district- Something's up.

[Idran1701]

"Hmph."

Junior Lieutenant Valentin Lomidze prepares himself in one of the barracks at HQ with an assortment of other officers, getting himself ready to report for duty. A man of medium build, he keeps his dark-black hair cut close; nowhere near a buzzcut, but still kept trimmed to strict military standards. He's young, barely 22, and it shows - to his great regret, he's often mistaken for a person 4 or 5 years younger. Hazel eyes look out between thin glasses - barely needed, but the military does insist, and he doesn't nearly have the ability to afford adjustment. Originally from southern Iveria, one of the outlying provinces of the Empire - and one with a number of horridly annoying rural stereotypes associated with it, as Valentin is sure to mention when the topic comes up - he's a fresh graduate of military academy, only having lived in the city for two weeks by this point, having been assigned right out of graduation. Still suffering from culture shock, he's usually horribly disgruntled about...well, just about everything. It makes him a bear to talk to most of the time, and with the city getting in the Winterveil spirit, today's even worse. Luckily for the sake of his career, he at least knows well enough to keep his mouth shut around superiors and people that might take legitimate offense. Unluckily for the others in the barracks right now, no one like that's around at the moment.

Throwing his unfortunate fellow officer a glance, he buttons his coat and adjusts his cuffs, his voice thick with his unmistakable Iverian accent. "All zat traffick, people roshing out to buy some trinket or anozer. Tosz up some gaudy decorations, cook a big meal, and coll it Vinterveil. How many do you zink vill haf a single snowfest at sunset, eh? Ze starlight glinting off ze fresh snow, gathering vith your family around ze fire..." He sighs wistfully, adjusting his hat. "I vish I vouldn't be missing it this year, but duty is duty. Still...zis city knows nothing of Vinterveil."

For reference, I'm picturing the fourth uniform here for Imperial duty uniforms, and I'm going with Soviet all-forces ranks. Also, I'm imagining snowfest to be the sort of tradition most people in Bucephalus would associate with something their grandparents or even great-grandparents would do for the holiday; maybe a few still do it, but for the most part it's seen as pretty archaic by most cityfolk.

[ChristianC]

The door to the small office-area at the eastern wing of the third Battleforce's annex slammed open in the kind of dramatic way that you usually only resort to when something big is at stake, such as when the enemy crossed your border five minutes ago, or your world is under siege by Planet fucking Jupiter. This time, however, it wasn't as much so, but instead a young, eager and somewhat bewildered looking man, the rank of Staff Sergeant neatly fastened to his uniform.

"Whe...whe-he...where is the cuh-colonel?" he asked, out of breath and beet-red in his face. "I've got... got orders from HQ, said to be delivered to the Colonel... wheeeze..." A cup of water was quickly handed to the young man, who kept waving the thin slip of paper around like some form of honorific flag. Finally, a woman a few years older than him, with a calm and serious expression on her face, took the note from his hands, read the directives written on the outside of it and sighed.

"The colonel is away at the moment, I shall dispatch someone to fetch him." The young man shook his head, downing another mouthful of water, and swallowed hard.

"N... no, need to deliver in person... Commander Kurtz's orders." he wheezed again and gave the woman a pleading look.

"Very well, he's..."

---

The fish weren't really hungry for worm today, that much was sure. The man sitting hunched over the small, drilled hole in the ice yawned and scratched the back of his thick, blonde hair. The hair, like much else of the man, was scruffy, unkept, but in the way that didn't look bad, only natural. There was an aura of natural unkeptness around the man, despite his formal-looking officer's uniform, neatly pressed and perfectly fitted to his frame. It was in a shade of dark green, and was offset by the even darker hue of green on his trenchoat, which he'd wrapped around himself like a blanket. The sound of someone approaching through the thick layer of snow didn't even make him blink, and as whoever it was stepped out on the ice, he fiddled a bit with the wire.

"Colonel Hancock? I have a message from Commander Kurtz to you, it's..."

There was no reply, not even a flinch. Even the fish, 'though they weren't prone to biting, seemed to stop swimming for a second or two. The somewhat pale face of the man, whom we can presume to be the mentioned Hancock, looked passively at the hole as the man behind him fiddled.

"Eh... Colonel Hancock? I have a message from..."

"Non, the fish do not bite anyway, what has the old man to say, eh? Tell me when we walk, I wish to take a stroll." He stood up at once, leaving his gear where it lay and stretched slightly before plunging his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"But... sir? It's... it's 5 miles." The man looked somewhat... exasperated, but the colonel merely started walking in the general direction of HQ.

"Then you can tell me when rinding a motorcycle, non?" his steps quickly increased in pace until he was jogging, then he was running, and the poor young officer, already worn out, drooped as if someone had just disregarded his warnings that there were babies and, indeed, kittens at the exact spot the artillery was set to fire. Then, puffing out his chest, he ran up to the speeding colonel, managing to keep his pace, for now, while handing the blonde man his letter. The colonel, in turn, ripped it open and handed it back, spoke something, and then the poor staff sergeant started reading out loud from the letter.

[Besyanteo]

There was a man smoking outside a seedy bar downtown, watching people walk by. He was a bit short and of light build, hidden somewhat by a thick coat bearing a pin that indicated his affiliation with the military. His hair was a messy blonde mop, not actually tangled but not spruce by any means. It extended down to almost cover his neck on it's own, the job finished by his jacket collar. His dark blue eyes were focused on a cigarette lighter that was mostly out of fluid now, and pretty worn. He'd bought it just last week, but the winds had made sure that when he did use it he used it quite a bit. The wind blew the cherry off his cigarette, prompting him to curse audibly as he tried to relight it for the third time.

Amleth Ingwersen was of low rank, not that it bothered him. He didn't join up with the military to be high ranking or important. He joined up when Granville more or less blew up, and it seemed obvious that war was going to break out after that. There would be fighting, people would die. He wanted to help prevent that somehow, even if it was just in a small way. Imagine his surprise that the whole thing blew over with one big mech battle between the empire and D-52 just after he signed up. That had been a few years ago now. He'd earned his MD since then, and had a better than passing familiarity with engines and other machinery. He could fix most any basic resource the military had to offer, biological or mechanical. While his decision to join the military was premature, he was pretty happy with it. He was paid decently, his needs provided for, and he was still doing what he wanted to do. Things seemed pretty good- when he wasn't struggling to get his damn cigarettes to stay lit. After much clicking he finally got the lighter to hold a flame again, when dispatch suddenly radioed him and anyone else who might be listening. Well damn, so much for drinks after his smoke. He quickly finished relighting and got into his car, a dull green colored thing that was cheap to maintain and pretty reliable. He'd reach HQ in about 20 minutes with some luck.

[Gee Cee]

"The most wonderful time of the year." It was the sort of thing that should be said at the end of a dramatic revelation, possibly with some donning of sunglasses and an inexplicable affirmative being shouted in the background. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Emhyr Owen didn't have his sunglasses on hand. Or the foresight to hire a band to provide musical cues at appropriate moments. Or, in fact, the resources to do so. So he had to settle for thinking it into the last dregs of his cup of coffee. That was about as much respite as he would have that night. As the people of Bucephalus forgot their cares, someone would have to remember for them. Sometimes that someone was an elastic superheroine, as had been increasingly the case in recent years. And sometimes that someone was him. And of course, the assorted sergeants, detectives and officers that worked alongside him.

And work they did. Criminals sure as hell didn't take the season off, and as much as he liked his leisure time, keeping the people safe necessitated an impressive workload even when you ought to be out relaxing. Or at least that's what he told himself. Some said he had been a machine long before the explosion that had cost him half his right arm and both of his legs. Maybe it was even true. He ran a hand through his heavily greying hair, streaked with just occasional bits of brown. Something was wrong. A break in the endless flow of papers, calls, dispatches... "Lieutenant," a sergeant still remaining at the station approached him, "this just came in. You'd better take a look."

Owen took one glance and crushed the note in a steel fist. The sergeant visibly paled. He paled a bit more when Owen turned and looked him over. Good kid, little timid. Guy could last an hour or two, even on the busiest night of the year. And this was hardly the busiest night. "Right. I'll take care of it. You're in charge until Mendoza or I get back." He mulled it over a moment. "Get two, no, three squads ready to drop by if I call for them." Owen, in the meantime, was probably on his way to explain to whatever newbie had given the call that the police, while receptive to joint ventures, were not a toy. Or on his way to get killed. Either way.

It was probably twenty minutes away in this traffic, he measured as he got his coat on. He could be there in ten.

[Shinigori V2]

It's almost 1:00 by the time all agents shuffle in. There's not many...A handfull of STARS, the Special Tactics And Rescue Service, a couple Military police, a scattering of Civilian police, and a pair of security guards. A woman in a white Military greatcoat leans against the far wall, smoking the remains of a cigarette and checking her watch. And in the corner...

In the corner sits a girl. Not just any girl. This girl is wearing a sky blue, skintight body suit with white gloves, boots, and 'underpants' on the outside. On her chest is a lowercase "e", and her eyes are whited out by a sky blue domino mask. She sits crosslegged on a table, leaning against the wall and waiting, as everyone else is. Those up to date on Imperial culture would identify the girl as Ellastic, the Empire's official super hero.

"Anyone know why's we're here?" The woman in white says, taking drag of her cigarette. "Seems ta me th' Whites're comin'."

[Besyanteo]

Amleth looked around the room at the various persons gathered with curiosity. This was certainly an odd collection of people. Especially the girl in the super suit. He tried not to look at her with distaste. She wasn't a problem to him, per se, but a lot of the people we worked with has bad things to say about her. Generally they talked about how she was taking all their work, or that she had no business sticking her nose into crime the way she did at her age. The woman in the coat was interesting to him; He hadn't seen a white uniform before. And then there was her question and follow-up comment on things...

When he spoke he had a bit of an accent, his 'n's were drawn out a bit longer than was normal and his 'I's were somewhat sharp, as were his 'U's.

"Not a clue... And what do you mean, th' whites? Is that your unit?"

(I tried typing out an accent as I imagined it and it just looked ugly. Arr.)

[ChristianC]

Alistair Hancock was used to far more commotion and last-minute efforts than this meeting created, so with a relaxed sigh he pulled a chair and straddled it, resting his arms on the back and looking at the others, his great trenchcoat dripping with melting snow from his jog. The man himself, however, seemed hardly out of breath, instead glancing from one to the other, before setting his eyes on Amleth and the woman in white. When he spoke, his tone was as calm and relaxed as his demeanour, his "French" accent making his voice almost curl over itself.

"It is no unit I have heard of, but perhaps we shall see in a little moment, non?" he chuckled and closed his eyes, looking like he was on the verge of falling into a peaceful slumber. "Always ze bother with trying to imagine what ze brass wants, without asking ze brass itself. No no no, much better to just wait and see, do you not zink?" He yawned and slumped a little, looking utterly relaxed.

[Idran1701]

In this situation, Valentin has enough good sense to keep his mouth shut for the most part. Especially with a colonel in the room. There's little need for him to add his opinion after a superior's spoken, after all.

For now, he stays in back at strict attention, eyes forward as he waits for the arrival of these "Whites". He's never heard of them either, but that's hardly surprising at his rank. More surprising is the fact that the higher-ranked people here haven't, but he's certain it's simply not something they had need to know before tonight. Whatever or whoever they are, it's sure to be revealed shortly if that woman's correct.

Of far greater interest to him is the presence of Ellastic. He's of course heard of her; even back in Iveria there had been the occasional news story of her, though he always took it for natural Bucephalen exaggeration. Apparently not. Very strange people here in the city. He'd laugh if he let himself; quietly, of course.

[Shinigori V2]

There's a bit of milling about, until the commander- Commander Simmons, steps into the room. He waves down a few salutes, stepping up onto a small podium. "I'm gonna be short and sweet. You're being called in to assist in a murder investigation. A STARS team is already on the scene and the situation's calmed but we can't for the life of us figure out what's going on. We've brought you in for some additional views on the situation. If you have an issue with blood- Lots of blood- leave. Now."

A number of the assembled begin to leave. Oddly enough, Ellastic stays put, crossing her arms and waiting. As the last of the quitters step out, a tall man in a white military uniform walks in. His hair is cut short, and he's got a mild scar over his left eye. He's blonde, and has a trim beard, not a terrible look. He glances over the assembled, nodding with recognition to Ellastic, before continuing his own briefing as Simmons steps out.

"The name's Christoph Cannonaide. I'm the commander of the White Brigade. We specialize in things that are outside the realm of the normal crime that most of you are used to. Before we begin, I'm having one of my men hand out documents. You need to sign them. They're a confirmation of confidentiality. Upon signing them, you acknowledge honorary membership with the Whites. In doing so, you agree not to share any knowledge of anything you see or certain individuals you work with. If that is unacceptable, you may leave now. If not, I'll take preliminary questions."

Christoph puts his hands behind his back, and waits as one of his rank-and-files hands out papers.

[Idran1701]

Valentin's never had any problem with blood - he'd hardly have entered the military if he did. While he doesn't revel in violence, he certainly has no automatic objection to it. But a murder investigation? Requiring members of the military? Including a full colonel? This wasn't a situation he'd ever prepared himself to enter. Even for Bucephalus, it's very unexpected; all he can figure is the victim must be extraordinarily high profile. And yet, he's heard no news reports late of anyone fitting that description.

Still, without the slightest hesitation, he signs the form. As this seems to be a volunteer mission rather than anything professional, he pays the colonel only the barest glance as he does so. Once signed, he hands the form back and returns to strict ramrod-straight attention, waiting for more information from Mr. Cannonaide - Colonel? General? There's no sign of rank on that uniform, perhaps some sort of civilian police liaison to the military? - and continuing to remain silent.

[ChristianC]

The colonel in question seemed more preoccupied with snoozing, and it wasn't until Commander Simmons entered that he looked up, giving the man a slight glance before he sat back up again, arms still resting on the back, and a quick salute with his index- and middle finger raised to his forehead.

"Commander." His voice carried a taint of disregard for status, although it was clear that Alistair knew exactly who the commander was. He just didn't place any importance on the title itself, a glint of respect for the man who wore the lapels instead shining through.

There wasn't even a twitch as the commander spoke of blood and murder, the colonel once again resting against the chair in his relaxed, and highly unofficial, way. When Cannonaide entered, however, the Colonel's expression darkened and he sat more at attention, watching the man as he spoke, paying close attention to his words.

"I assume, of course, that rank will not be an issue during this mission?" He gave the gathered men an appraising look, "I want to work with men who can trust me, and I can trust zem. I am Alistair Hancock for zis mission, and I hope we can all put such... trivialitiez aside for now?"

[Besyanteo]

Amleth tried to avoid cocking an eyebrow whenever Alistair spoke, but only managed it about half the time. There was something about the way he spoke that was grating. Not his accent, everyone in the Empire seemed to have at least something of an accent, heavy or light, retained from their pre-unification country. No, it was the things he said and the way he'd occasionally put emphasis on something here, or drip disdain there, that felt wrong. It sounded like he was putting on an elaborate act without much idea how acting was performed. Amleth had a feeling that they probably wouldn't get along in the field. Valentine was another story entirely. Amleth KNEW they would not get along, because if the stick were any further up that man's ass he'd spit tree bark when he spoke.

He pushed all that aside for now. He didn't mind blood, he worked with it every day, in one form or another. He'd come to conclusions similar to Valentine's, and a few steps further: If this were a high profile case, then chances were that there would probably be some kind of group involvement behind it opposing them, who were going to notice they were being investigated. That would lead to violence, which meant Amleth had a job to do. He signed up calmly and quietly, before moving back to where he'd been standing since he walked in.

[Gee Cee]

Well, that was something else entirely! Far from being jerked around like a dog on a chain, he was being brought in as an adviser. And on a high enough profile case to merit the attention of both Ellastic and the Whites - whoever they actually were. He supposed he was about to find that out in exquisite detail. This suited Owen far better than the impressions he had had twenty minutes prior.

A murder investigation seemed like it was closer to his area of expertise than that of some people present. His gaze lingered over some of the soldiers. A couple of them were even fresh-faced recruits. The way the Commander was describing the situation was troubling, though. People didn't like admitting they had no idea what was going on, and organizations moreso. Military organizations even more than that. Whatever it was, it was probably big. Well, that suited him just fine.

There was one little loose end, though, that he should bring up now. "Commander," Owen nods politely, his heavily lined face giving a faint smile, "you mind if I call my station? Your messenger made it sound like the blood was here, and I'd like to tell my boys to get back to work."

[Shinigori V2]

Cannonaide nods to Owen curtly. "Make it quick."

Turning to address Alistair, he cracks his neck. "You'll be official members of my team. Rank is largely unimportant, so long as you remember I'm in charge. Kosher?"

Without waiting for response, he continues, addressing the room again. "What we're dealing with here, gentlemen, is the White's specialty. Ghosts, goblins, angels, demons, magic, curses. The arcane. The strange. Things the public doesn't know about. Things they can't know about. Before you even begin to think that's farfetched, I'd like you to keep in mind you're attending a briefing with a proven, licensed super hero. She'll be assisting in the investigation as much as she can- We may very well need the backup.

He pulls a photo from a file, placing in a projector. It shows an upscale apartment, full of nice furniture, a huge TV, and nice carpets. "This is the home of Anthony DesMonte. He was one of the scientific directors at the Blue Falls research facility. You might remember that as the facility that was shut down just before the end of the Great War. He was scheduled to meet with Emperor Tycho tomorrow afternoon about some of the..." The commander searches for the right word, before settling with a scowl. "...Research that occurred there."

He moves the picture, and puts a new one in it's place. It's the same apartment, but there's blood everywhere, done up in runic symbols and odd patterns along the walls. Everything is smashed, and there's a body of a middle aged man in the middle, splayed out in a Y position, both arms raised.

"This is the apartment as of roughly an hour ago. After a prolonged standoff with STARS forces, DesMonte shot himself in the head. The entire building was locked down and monitored. No one entered or exited that apartment before STARS entered after the suicide."

He looks up, rubbing his beard. "Does anyone see a problem here immediately?"

[Besyanteo]

(posted after asking the GM various pointed questions about the Photo!)

Amleth spoke up immediately, his accent more prominently on display now that he spoke at length:

"Several things. The body has been posed, in a rigid Y shape. Bodies do not fall that way when a person shoots them-self in the head: He should be splayed out, the gun very near to his body. It is absent here, though it is possible it is hidden beneath debris nearby. There are no obvious wounds or blood on the gentleman's suit, nearly immaculate next to the mess all over the walls. This blood is not his, this would require all the blood in at least one body, possible two. He did not destroy the furniture, his hands and arms are pristine, as is his suit. All would be in ruins if he had. Also, for the same reason we know he did not draw the patterns on the wall..."

He rubs his chin as he considers further.

"... And I do not think that the STARS agents were speaking with the real Mr. DesMonte. The blood and gore from his head wound appears old, clotted and drying, unless this photo was taken a long time after the attempt to talk him down. He had been dead for some long hours before. The entire scene is... wrong. In every way I can think of."

[Shinigori V2]

Cannonaid points at Amleth, a couple of the Whites nodding. "You. What's your name?" Cannonaid asks. "You've got a good eye. Bright future."

He settles again. "Anything else? Anyone? Don't be shy now."

[Idran1701]

Valentin stays quiet for now, watching Amleth with interest as he goes over his description of the scene. All he says either falls along what he himself had been thinking, or points out something he hadn't even thought of. Nothing further to add comes to mindHe's glad to see someone with such a logical mind amongst the group, something he'd found lacking more than he had expected amongst the local officers; not entirely, of course. As he thinks on that, he gathers his thoughts on the other two from what he's seen so far at this meeting...

...For someone of his rank, Alistair seems far too flippant. Disappointingly so, even, though Valentin would never dare to say so. Still, he is a colonel, so obviously he must have the skills to have earned his rank. Something for Valentin to check into later. Of course, despite what he's offered, Valentin could never merely ignore rank; a gracious offer on his part, but one, in his mind, he's already declined. Emhyr, he has little opinion yet, though he certainly seems to hold enough interest in the presentation. Quite attentive, just what he'd expect from a skilled officer of the law.

His thoughts on the others finished, Valentin goes back to the picture, thinking on it. A small thought comes to mind, something Amleth did indeed miss. He stays at strict attention as he speaks, keeping his voice respectfully low.

"Despite Dr. DesMonte's position before ze var, for a scientific director, soch a place seems...out of hiz price range, as it vere. I vould suspect...ozer sources of income. Vithout knowing more, of course, I cannot say if zis is a matter of suspicion or not. Vat position had Dr. Desmonte held since ze Var?"

[ChristianC]

Alistair shifted his position even more as the photograph was presented, taking off his gloves and furrowing his brow for the first time.

He did not speak, however, glancing at Amleth, listening and nodding occasionally, then to Valentin, tapping the side of his mouth slowly as he processed their input.

"Unless, of course, the experiments and research he conducted proved lucrative enough for the Empire to reward him... or to make him remain quiet about it..." Alistair leaned back, sighing. "The Great War was a difficult time when difficult decisions had to be made quickly and without questioning. Many profited on ze zuffering and misery the war brought, it was a time of... confusion."

"Was he killed because of ze meeting? Was he meeting because he feared assassination? Was his execution ordered by ze Emperor?" He smiled slightly, shaking his head, "the fact that we are recruited into the White Brigade, made honorary members, mean that the usual rules do not apply."

"The Great War was a long time ago, coincidences do not happen."

[Gee Cee]

This was a little much for Emhyr. It was one thing to be asked to take something as assumed without questioning it; that was his duty as a citizen of the empire and a man who needed results. Cannonaid, on the other hand, was telling him that magic and monsters existed!

It was probably a test, but either way. It wasn't something he would - or could run away from. The others were perceptive, as well. They were probably wasting their talents in the military. Well, he supposed, they weren't wasting them now. Paranormal investigators or no, the Whites seemed to have a good eye for diamonds in the rough.

And if the supernatural were indeed involved, few questions would be off the table. "Why did a standoff occur in the first place?" he asked, "and why was there no surveillance on the inside of the building before breaching?"

[Shinigori V2]

"Another good question. We picked well, looks like." Cannonaid says. "There was footage, but it was tampered with. Somewhere between the surveillance and the reception, it was hacked to be a loop of that horrible movie about the bus that couldn't stop."

Another White, this one a rounder, shorter man with buzzed hair and a baggy uniform steps in and says something quiet to the commander. He nods once, and looks up. "Who wants to take a field trip to a crime scene?"

[ChristianC]

Alistair got up from his chair, buttoning his shirt and tugging at his suit-jacked underneath the trenchcoat, smiling. "I would much like to come... Considering the sharp eyes of some of us here, I'm sure zere will be more to find once we get there, no?"

[Idran1701]

Inclining his head briefly towards the new White, Valentin falls in behind Alistair, still keeping quiet, still keeping his hands clasped behind his back. Request or order, seeing the crime scene could only increase his understanding. And of course, in his mind a request from an apparent superior (though he still finds himself confused as to the exact relation of the Whites to the military) is little different from an order.

[Gee Cee]

Owen puts a hand to his chin. A stunt with their surveillance like that was, frankly, a lot more worrying than a lot of circles scribbled everywhere. Given the colorful history of the man and the ostentatious nature of the room, there might be a chance...

It might be worth a shot. "I'll go," he says simply.

[Besyanteo]

Amleth nodded.

"I'm in."

[Shinigori V2]

In short order, the crew is packed up, into one of three humvees, all painted white with the Emperor's seal on the side. All gathered can vaguely remember seeing one of these vehicles at some point in their stay in Bucephalus, but can't pinpoint when or where. Oddly, Ellastic opts to get to the scene herself- Odder still that she's allowed to come, given the...Nastiness of the crime scene, and her status as a young teen, as far as anyone can guess.

Driving through the snowy city takes only twenty minutes. As the collected crew arrives, there's already a police perimeter, with a few STARS armored vehicles scattered around, STARS personnel working and beat cops keeping the crowd at bay. The apartment building is large and sleek, glass walls all along the outside. Several stories up, the crew can see shattered glass- Likely the apartment in question.

For now, the crowd seems pacified, though a few are wound up- Nobody seems to know what's actually going on. The ones that are rowdy seem to be...Calling for Ellastic's picture or autograph. She seems to be looking the scene over, her chin cupped in her hand. How in the world did she get there before they did?

Cannonaid steps out of his vehicle, and a few of his aids- The rounder man from before, and a shorter woman with an unsettling, nearly rictus grin plastered on her face- Step up and begin handing him various documents to look over and sign. He glances up from his work, and gestures to the scene. "This is your show, guys. We've got an agent around, somewhere, he should be showing up any time. Question anyone you want, anyone gives you shit, send 'em my way."

[Idran1701]

Valentin gives another short nod, looking across the crowd with hands crossed behind his back, gazing across the faces of the gathered crowd. Specifically, he watches for anyone that seems to be making a special effort to stay out of the gathering, someone going out of their way not to look to the apartment, to Ellastic, or to the rest of the gathered investigatory team. If no one pops out to him, he turns to the nearest White, keeping his voice low enough so as to not be overheard by the bystanders.

"Ze vindow vas not mentioned in ze briefing. If none entered or exited, vat is known about ze cause? Vas it broken from vithin or vithout?"

[ChristianC]

Alistair nodded, he'd missed another opportunity to show off his INCREDIBLE investigation ability...

"Zere iz close to no glass on ze ground, non? It tells us... whoever killed our man entered his house through zese windows... and fast, unless he or she stopped to pick it up from ze ground once done with ze killing." He mused, scratching the back of his head.

[Gee Cee]

Emhyn took a long look up at the crime scene and furrowed his brow in concentration. The Whites would have a harder time keeping these events from the public if they had brought in a proper team to investigate. Or was that what he and his compatriots were here for? He hoped not.

At any rate, his first move was to circle the exterior of the building, making note of any entry or exit points. If they were dealing with something out of the ordinary, any would do. Storm drains, power lines, close roofs of other buildings...

[Besyanteo]

Being more or less a medical man in a decently sized group of people from multiple professions, Amleth didn't worry himself with questioning witnesses: No doubt one of the others would handle that well enough. His best bet to be useful was to get up to the scene and start investigating directly. The blood, the body, and anything else biological that photograph hadn't shown them already. He wasted no time in attempting to let himself inside.

[Shinigori V2]

Cannonaid scribbles on his paperwork, nodding to Valentin. "You're right. This is the first I'd heard of it."

The shorter man clears his throat, and speaks with an oddly low, nasal voice. "There's so far no explaination for the glass. As far as anyone can tell, it shattered inwards for no reason, which doesn't really just happen. Another reason we were called in."

The woman just continues to grin at nothing at all, giggling softly.

As for other exit points, the apartment building has a few stories above the other buildings, and the crime scene had a view- Someone could have jumped from the window to one of the surrounding buildings. There's also storm drains, and any number of utility pipes under the building.

Amleth makes his way in, followed by the teen superhero. The STARS officers open the door for the pair of them, as Ellastic makes her way to the elevator. "Soooo." She says after a second. "New recruit, huh? Whites? Throw out everything you know about reality, dude. It's about to get kicked in the nuts."

[ChristianC]

Alistair nodded with a smile and went after the STARS and the girl and the other crazy, weird people, hands folded behind his back and a vacant smile on his face as they waited for the elevator to come down.

"I am known to have a broad and open mind, I think." he remarked with the same smile on his face, "I am certain I can cope."

[Besyanteo]

Amleth opened his mouth to reply, when Alistair stepped into the elevator and answered instead. He looked a little irritated, but didn't waste a lot of time on it. He turned back to Ellastic and said:

"If you're Ellastic, then you are literally the only thing we've been show so far that can't be faked for dramatic effect you know. I'll decide what I believe when we enter the apartment room."

[Shinigori V2]

"You know, I say that every time and you guys never believe me." Ellastic sighs, shaking her head. "They want me to help train you guys so you can see there are things like me in the world. I don't just wear the tights because I'm a good actor, you know."

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open, allowing the three occupants out. Down the hall, they can see a few more STARS members investigating the scene, others rerouting resident traffic to the stairs.

[ChristianC]

Alistair nodded as Ellastic spoke. Certainly, he'd seen a few weird, some would say unnatural, things during his career, and this little girl was certainly one of them. But if there was one thing he'd learned during the time of climbing through the ranks of the Zeta Artillery Brigade, it was that weird shit happened occasionally, even to a brigade that technically wasn't meant to see much front-line combat.

So he cocked his head to the side a little as the elevator reached the intended floor, hands in the pockets of his coat. "Ah zere, you see, training us to accept the unreal? Zat comes wiz experience, non? Like crawlink through ze guts of pigs, for example, to make you less worried about dying friends and zeir guts."

He tried to understand why the Whites wanted to do that to them before the actual missions began, but he was going to play along. Most likely, the top brass already knew what had happened here.

[Shinigori V2]

Inside:

The two men, along with the super hero companion, step into the apartment. It's just as bad as the picture shows, except the blood is everywhere, not just on specific walls. The window was definitely shattered outward, no glass at all had fallen into the apartment itself. STARS had already moved the body, leaving just the shattered apartment for investigation.

Ellastic takes a step back- For all her bravado, she's still a kid. "I"m going to...Investigate out there." She says, returning to the hallway.

Outside:

More Whites arrive on the scene- Identifiable now that the recruits know what, exactly, the white humvees and uniforms signify. They crowd around Cannonaid- Maybe 15 total- Awaiting orders.

Oddly, the woman in the white greatcoat- Maybe an earlier recruit? Steps away, towards another arriving vehicle; a heavy duty Cargo van. She talks briefly to the driver, before circling around to the passenger's side, climbing in. The van continues into a loading bay for the apartment's storage facility, the garage door closing behind it.

[Idran1701]

Valentin paces slowly around the edges of the apartment, peering at the walls and carpets with hands clasped behind him. Looking for anything the investigators might have missed, any sign who caused this, and assembling an idea of the incident.

The authorities held a standoff with Director Anthony DesMonte for some time, and a gunshot resounded from within. Then, this scene was found. Obviously, it was a murder committed by some other party. The only way they could have escaped was through the window, and yet nothing was seen. The obvious conclusion, as Amleth had concluded earlier: he was already dead by the time STARS arrived. Somehow, the standoff was staged. Yet they were speaking with someone, and that person escaped somehow. Perhaps...

He glances up to the STARS officer in charge. "Vat, exactly, happened immediately after your men breached? Az much detail az possible."

~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the hall, the freight elevator arrives on their floor. A young girl in metal body armor colored red and white steps out, deep red hair tied in two pigtails. An odd-looking rapier hangs off her hip; though the blade seems normal, the hilt's studded with a variety of electronics.

Looking tense, she moves carefully towards the crime scene, watching the officers and soldiers of various organizations cautiously. Her first time out on a mission, she's eager not to screw it up.

[Shinigori V2]

The girl in red is flanked by two others, and followed by the woman from before, with the white coat. One of the girls, her armor being royal blue and red, also wearing a blue jacket with Captain's bars on the shoulders steps into the room and throws her jacket back, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't worry!" She shouts loudly. "Pay no heed to our highly advanced android bodies, our oversized gear or our sweet Wunderoos! The next step of evolution is here to solve the case!"

The one immediately behind her, with short brown hair and a yellow and white suit, crosses her arms and shakes her head. "You know, this is why people are nervous about Wunderkind, Em."

The girl in yellow begins looking around. Those looking at her notice a small, silver sword at her hip, the hilt forged with an angel wing design. On her back is a much larger version of the sword with the same hilt design. And on the back of her suit is a design like silver angel wings.

[Gee Cee]

Emhyn makes a mental note of the creepy-looking woman and where she went. He has something else to attend to, however, namely finding a STARS officer still on the ground. The crime scene, at least, was unlikely to be go anywhere. The culprit, on the other hand...

"I'm with the feds," he thumbs over his shoulder in the direction of Cannonaid if he finds one, "can you show me how you were deployed during the standoff?"

[Besyanteo]

Amleth was used to working with and around blood, and with a great deal of distraction. Now that he was in the room, he paid no one else any mind, examining the apartment in detail. They knew about the blood, so now he was looking for flesh: In theory, if other bodies has been brought in h ere, to draw blood from directly for use on the walls and floors, then the act of removing so much of it should have damaged the bodies. There should be some pieces here and there. If not, then it would suggest the blood was brought in containers, perhaps transfusion bags.