[ WEEK ONE – INVESTIGATION ]

[sheriffexe]

INVESTIGATION

The town is quiet, eerily so. All animals, all chatter, all gusts of wind have come to a complete stop this morning. A tumbleweed passes by through the center of town and the rocking chair on the Sheriff's porch sways but remains silent. Everything is muted and as the door of the hotel opens, the only sensation that rings utterly true today is this: One of your own is gone. And now, as the rules state, it is your job to discover their fate. Welcome to the investigation post! If your character decides to search an area, please post the name of the location in your header and wait for mod replies. Anything to discover will be indicated during the course of the thread. After the body is discovered, an announcement will be made and characters are free to spend the rest of the afternoons how they like. If there are any questions, please shoot a message either to this journal or at robowest.

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Comments

[sating]

Blood.

[ Hannibal comments with concern in his voice, but then gives the woman a glance reflecting that worry before he starts to head to the door to head out to the tracks properly. ]

A concerning amount of it. Shall we take a closer look?

[tightly]

[ Nodding again, she steps back outside. It's hardly the first time she's seen blood on train tracks, truth be told, and Chane doesn't bother trying to sell being unsettled. Rather, her concern is all for the unknown of their situation.

She certainly doesn't seem afraid to approach the blood puddle.

... after a moment, eyeing the two parting trails, she finally pulls out her notepad and writes something down in calligraphic handwriting. It's held up for him to see. ]

Possibly two people assaulting one another and then going their separate ways.

[ Not that that had been her first thought... ]

[sheriffexe]

[ Up close, Chane and Hannibal can make out both footprints and handprints in the blood. The footprints come in the direction of the saloon while the handprints head towards the mines. ]

[sating]

[ Once they make their way to the tracks, Hannibal is careful as he steps around the blood, careful to not disturb it. He's focused on looking at it with, and he almost misses Chane offering her notepad, but luckily, he's not so rude as to completely ignore her. He's surprised again when he sees her notepad (and briefly, he has to admire her handwriting), but it clicks for him quickly enough. He nods as he looks to the footprints and handprints. ]

So it would seem. Though certainly in an interesting way.

[ Footprints and handprints both is definitely surprising, after all. He leans closer to inspect the footprints to see if he can generally guess the size of the foot that made them. As he does, he does speak to Chane, though. ]

If it would be easier, I do know sign language. [ He offers casually, not wanting to push the issue, but he'd hate to be so rude as for her to use the notepad when he knows a potential alternative. ]

[tightly]

I do not.

[ Although it would have been an easy solution, the whole point of Chane giving up her voice was to restrict her from all forms of communication. The possibility of being tortured into giving away her father's secrets had been only part of her reasoning at the time. (Honestly, who trusts a ten year old with that kind of decision making?)

She does appreciate his politeness, though, and endeavours to look a little more compromising. ]

But thank you.

[ As for the prints of blood... do they leave a trail behind them? Is there anything else worth observing? Chane's gaze flicks over to the train. ]

[sheriffexe]

[ The footprints match the trail coming from the saloon!

The handprints on the other hand, seem to be a bit scattered in the dirt before just stopping next to the pool of blood.

As for how they look, they're quite small in size. Feminine.

And actually -- next to where the handprints end, there's a few scattered blue hairs in the blood. ]

[sating]

Of course.

[ And he doesn't consider it further, though the detail is noted idly. It's hard for him to not file away those kinds of interesting details. Analyzing people isn't something he can exactly stop doing, only distract from. Luckily, this is distracting enough, and as Chane looks at the trail and the train, Hannibal follows after, at least assuming there's nothing else glaringly obvious that I'm not thinking to look at sweats ]

I believe the person that made the prints was a young woman, at least. [ Not that this narrows it down much, or at least not until he sees the blue hairs. ]

[tightly]

[ Nods agreeably, thinking with some gravity that it's likely whoever made the handprints is dead. As for the footprints, well - that could be a trail to a killer? When something glinting oddly catches her eye, Chane kneels down beside the scattering of handprints and...

Picks up some of the blue hair right out of the blood.

Without batting an eyelash.

Not knowing anyone with blue hair, however, she turns and looks back at Hannibal, hoping he can shed some light on the newest development. ]

[sating]

[ Hannibal turns his attention to Chane once she's found something and seems to be asking him for his opinion. He approaches and murmurs out a soft "excuse me," but he'll take a closer look. ]

Blue?

[ Well, that narrows things down. He thinks of the people he's seen and met, and that makes it easy enough. He doesn't sound too surprised, since considering their situation, it doesn't come as much of one. Even so, his tone is grave. ]

The young ladies in the station. They both had blue hair.

[tightly]

[ He's right, and - although she can't quite remember the differing shades - Chane still feels her stomach jump unpleasantly, reminded of how she could have let Tiara out and chose wilfully not to. It had been because of practicality, or mistrust, or maybe Chane just hasn't grown that much of a person in the past ten years...

Her back stiffens visibly before she stands back up. If there's a trail, they might as well follow it to the discussion mingle and gestures indicatively. ]

[sating]

What a waste.

[ Hannibal comments on it softly, but he nods in light agreement to her gesture and starts along the way to the mingletown where everyone else seems to be congregating. ]

We may as well share our findings.