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Beyond the Pale: True Crime in Elysium (Closed) [A Metric System RPG]

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Well - nothing special about these. If something needs to get opened, one might do the trick. Or not. "Half of their training is probably knowing what these are all there for." Back to the screens for a moment, those always tell more. Nora speeds through the vods again, ending right when the murderer leaves the building, and the preacher is in view. An expression of reluctant determination shows on her face as she stands up and makes the first few steps towards the exit. "Let's get this over with, right?" She doesn't get to it straight away, though, lingers around for a moment instead, once outside. Trying to pick up a few lines of what the man's preaching. If society is a machine, these people are like a virus, slowly corrupting the files. Or something like that. Can't hurt to know what offends them these days, right?

[Perception - 6] I'll regret it, but let's hear a few lines of what he says. Just to have a reason to stop this madness, of course...
 
East Revachol
Uptown
19.42



  • [Perception Medium: Success]: As you head back out to the front of the corporate HQ you can hear the lunatic's sermon over the dissolving Ultraliberal crowd around him.

    "The Disk Model of the world supports that very idea: that we are at the center of the world, of the universe! That the world exists to be used by us - they're teaching it to kids! The Amphibian men have us all caught up in this fake rat race, obsessed with buying the latest cars and the latest furniture and the latest clothes, so that we'll be distracted from their demonic rituals! Or the way they control the radio waves and the newspapers!"

    At this some of the crowd groans, and the dissolution of the audience speeds up.

    "The world only seems flat!" shouts the man, "it's an illusion! A lie! We're just tiny apes on a massive ball of dirt in space!"

    When you are in clear sight of him most of the crowd is gone and the few lingerers appear to be chatting with one another or reading a nearby bus map.

 
Tlon said:
Every precinct of course has their own local heroes, and precinct 17 is no different. Even in your brief time here you have heard the other cops mention the name Diego Marquez. Although no Detective God (Marquez is known to have 153 cases solved in a 15 year tenure) Lt. Marquez was known as a brilliant but absent minded figure, a cop who could solve cases through the force of the super natural. No one takes the claim of the mystical seriously of course, but it also could not be denied that Marquez had a canny ability for knowing where to find things that no one else could have possibly known about and who could look into the heart of a perp and see things even the perp didn't know. As strange as he was successful Marquez eventually retired early to open a pet store where officers from Precinct 17 still sometimes go to get advice or to buy a lizard for their kid.

You are also aware of the rumor that Marquez was fond of marijuana, which, while techically not illegal, is also not fully legal, and a practice that was looked down on by other cops.
Click to expand...
These big names start being poured into his head as he ponders, their legacy speaks so loud that he feels the need to tip his hat to the black space before him. Rufus's gaze rests on his waist watch as he feels like time itself slows down on him, it seems like a sign that he needs to put something off of his mind before the clock hands strike the anticipated configuration.
Rufus springs up from his seat, the chair beneath him skidded back and created a screech loud enough to draw some eyes on him.
He turns to face the nearest window and reaccesses the weather briefly, adjusting his tie off of the partial reflection on one of those squeaky clean glass panels. It has been a while since he saw some exotic animals with imaginary price tags, yet somehow the idea of living a life dedicated just for show doesn't sound that unfamiliar.

Rufus steps out the building until the air around him turns still, his eyes staring at the tip of his feet as he tried to recall the location of the pet shop. The old and rusty, yet trusty car of his carried him to his destination seemingly instantaneously in his perspective, in retrospect perhaps he was driving a little too dangerously, so much for being a citizen's model.

He looks up and located the pet shop 'Scat & Dawg', he is certain he located the shop as remembered yet somehow physically standing before the shop made Rufus questions if he is really at the right location. Pets, he is not sure how to think about them, to him, they would be high maintenance accessories, or a subject of attachment and projection when there are thoughts you don't feel like suppressing. He may make it sounds insipid but that's mainly because he is evaluating the experience based on his childhood. If he were to rethink about them, they are not bad at all, actually. There are something to embrace for they are irreplaceable creations that many are inclined to connect with, ironically something he failed to achieve with his creations during his career in art, perhaps there is something he can learn from them...something he can learn within this pet shop......

He steps inside, expecting to greet Diego Marquez before he does so to him.

What if he can fill me in about the facts I couldn't recall yesterday? Or maybe reveal a bigger picture of what is at play?
Frankly, he doesn't expect to get any tickets for short-cuts, but he wouldn't allow himself to simply disregard any ways of gathering information. Having the opportunity to talk to an individual of such respectable status alone is enough to give him a sense of fulfillment.
 
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East Revachol
Lower East Esperance
08.03




  • Nestled between two taller commercial buildings with a furniture storefront on one side and a small grocer's on the corner side is the pet shop known as Scat & Dawg. Although the front is mostly unassuming once you step inside you can see the strangeness that the name belies. Green horned lizards and hairy tarantula spiders from Samara, salamanders and geckos fresh from Semenine, curious winged mammals known as saffron gliders from Iilmara - and fish, a great wall of aquariums holding various fish from all across Insulinde's tropical waters in all the colors of the rainbow. The entire building is full to the gills of strange and curious wildlife, all of it assembled together in a not un-slipshod manner. A great earthy funk of animal scent washes over you as you make you way past the reptile food and the vast assortment of fish tank chemicals to the counter in the shops corner.

    Against the counter leans the man you imagine must be Diego Marquez. You have never met him, but he fits the description: lanky, with black hair going gray at the sides, a long face with a bushy black mustache, also going gray. His mode of dress is not something you'd expect out of a former police officer - the jeans and white shirt are nothing out of the ordinary but he also has on a purple leather vest and on each of his fingers he wears a chunky ring, with each finger getting it's own gemstone. Presently Marquez is engrossed by a white praying mantis with highlights of blue and pink swaying back and forth in the palm of his hand.

    "Can I help you find something officer," asks Marquez without looking away from the praying mantis

    [Inland Empire: Legendary ]: Watch the praying mantis, what does it say to you?
    [Composure: Medium]: Keep your cool - this is Diego Marquez we're talking about!
    [Other: Player describes another action]

 

  • "I guess there is no need to beat around the bush. The truth is I came here to seek some advice from a well-honed veteran like Mr. Marquez yourself."
    "I am Rufus Winehouse, from Precinct17. I would be honored if we do have some time to chat."
    Tlon said:
    [Composure: Medium]: Keep your cool - this is Diego Marquez we're talking about!
    Click to expand...


    Rufus leans a little closer but carefully maintains a distance between them so as to not be too intrusive with initiating a conversation. Diego Marquez seems to be mesmerized by the delicate creature in his palm, Rufus pauses as he wonders what sort of language the tiny creature had used to capture Diego Marquez's attention, he watches the praying mantis's dance as he tries to decipher the unspoken language.
    Tlon said:
    [Inland Empire: Legendary ]: Watch the praying mantis, what does it say to you?
    Click to expand...


    The praying mantis as a subject seems to be a good way to get into a conversation, its striking, thematically contrasting colors just happens to pique his interest as well.
    [Encyclopedia:-]: Try to recall the species of the mantis. Is that an orchid mantis?

 
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Barker makes a hard sigh before turning toward the broken glass pane. "Well... I guess I'll shake that guy down for information." And he struts over to the preacher, still spouting nonsense to the increasingly disinterested crowd.

He brushes by them, not even stopping to apologize or even ask to be excused. "Hey." He says to the preacher.
They don't acknowledge the officer at all, continuing their chatter to the few people left.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] Okay, he probably didn't hear me.

He waited for the madman to pause again before trying to speak. "Buddy, I got some-" Nope. They're back to talking.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] No, he's ignoring me.

Barker breathed in, gathering energy for his outburst.
HALF-LIGHT [Active Check] "Hey! I'm talking to you here!" He shouts at the preacher, intending to cow him into shutting up.
 
East Revachol
Lower East Esperance
08.05




  • [Inland Empire Legendary: Fail ]: In your mind's eye the mantis is gargantuan and your see yourself repeated in every facet of it's compound eyes. You see dread on your face, a thousand times over.

    [Encyclopedia Formidable: Success]: The Insulinde Orchid Mantis to be precise. Native to the Semenine Isles it has spread to the rest of Insulinde due to it's popularity as a pet. Known for their distinct coloration - blue and pink on white on the females and gold and emerald on white on the males - they spread in the post-revolutionary period when the economy found its footing again and people gained an appetite for exotic pets. They are temperamental in their youth but they remain highly territorial throughout their lives. In captivity this instinct turns in on itself, and they can be kept in open air terrariums with orchids, as they never wander too far from the orchids where they shelter.

    [Compsure Medium: Success]: Even though we are talking about the Diego Marquez here you walk up to him like it's not even a big deal at all. Marquez, not an uncool cat himself, acknowledges you with a casual nod. You can just imagine that in his younger years the nod came with some cooly ironic finger guns.

    "I have time to chat," says Diego, "until a customer comes through or the lady here decides she's hungry for breakfast, I can chat forever."

 
East Revachol
Uptown
19.45



  • [Half-Light Formidable: Success]: The ragged conspiracy theorist falls silent in an instant. In his eyes you can see flashes of memory as he recalls the various beatings he's suffered on the street. He recognizes the menace in your voice like a deer recognizes the gaze of a cougar.

    The conspiracy theorist clears his throat.

    "Good evening officer," he says. His tone is so neutral and divorced from the ranting you can feel the fear echoing on the inside of him.

 
  • PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] Good stuff. Guess I won't have to resort to force, then.

    Barker straightens his jacket, restraining himself from making a sinister expression. "I got some questions for you."

    He wasn't particularly fond of questioning people, but it was part of the job. "So, my buddy opened up the camera feed, and saw that you were in the area when someone got shot up here. Did you see a man in black with a big ol' gun leaving the area?"

    And keep going down the list. "Did you hear the shooting?"

    "How long have you been standing here?"
    LOGIC [Trivial: Success] At least an hour. Man, this guy loves being annoying.
 
East Revachol
Uptown
19.47



  • "I saw a man in suit and a mask leaving the premises," answers the man plainly, "before that I heard shooting. Fire from an Ister AP, probably a '47 model. First round of fire woke me up, second round shook me. Suit came through after that, I don't think he even noticed me."

    This last sentence bothers him.

    "They never notice," says the conspiracy theorist, "diskists."

    [Half-Light Passive: Success]: You see him return to the lunatic globist theory in his mind, you can sense that the topic is returning some vinegar return to him. You grunt and he comes back to reality.

    "An hour. He had red hair," says the ragged conspiracy theorist, "I saw it. He took off the mask when he was almost round the corner."

    He looks at his cardboard sign.

    "That suit gonna go to jail?" he asks.

 

  • "That's the plan, at least." Nola chimes in to do her part - not that Lt. Barker seems to need the help, but it's her job too, after all. "The more we know, the sooner it'll be done. Anything more you know, or noticed? Something that'd point us in the right direction?" She eyes that street corner as if the shooter could reappear there at any moment. "Either way, I suggest you stay low for a while. Had quite an audience today, and people can only grasp so much truth at a time." Plus, that preacher might be in danger if the murderer notices his mistake. Unlikely, but you never know.

    [Suggestion - 2] Try to convince him to stay safe, for a while.

    "Got a name for us, for the documents? Might benefit you, being helpful today. Or in general, we're always glad about additional hints. Things that people see, while not being noticed. Can always let me know if there's more you remember, or anything else that requires our attention. Lt. Argall's the name, just send a message and I'll read it."

    [Suggestion - 2] That man seems observant, in his bright moments. Ask him to inform us about what he deems important, and maybe there'll be a hint hidden somewhere in his gibberish.
 
East Revachol
Uptown
19.49



  • [Suggestion Passive Easy: Success]

    "Didn't see where he went after he made it around the corner," says the conspiracy theorist, "but I heard a car start up not too long after. He must have drove away at a certain point, but I didn't see his car come by."

    Then he smiles.

    "I appreciate your concern detective," says the man, "but you'd be surprised how little people usually care. He could have tripped over me and probably still not notice what I look like.

    Put me down as Roger Griffiths. Not like anyone out here knows my government name anyway. But I tell you what, if you need any more information about this globe we live on, come around asking for the Sphere."

    The man runs his fingerless gloved hand over his bald, almost perfectly spherical head.

    "People will know."


 
Tlon said:
"I have time to chat," says Diego, "until a customer comes through or the lady here decides she's hungry for breakfast, I can chat forever."
Click to expand...

"Thank you, Mr. Marquez."
"Is that an Insulinde Orchid Mantis? I heard of them from an art gallery actually, they happen to be a subject in one of the renditions, they sure look as ethereal as depicted."
"I have to admit coming to your place opened my eyes, the creatures here fascinate me greatly, I can see myself lurking around here for an extended period of time if I don't have other things on my mind."

"I heard that these ladies like to eat their mating partner. Is that true? It's an interesting rumor to me nonetheless."
"It is surely a peculiar world we live in, if we are all mantises I wonder if eating your mate after sex would be deemed a norm or something illegal?"
"Everyone does it, it must be something justifiable. Everyone says the world is a glass terrarium, then it is just how it is right? The truth is so fragile in such a context."

"Well, although the majority shapes the world, but I guess in the end everyone subscribes to their own version of truth anyway, be it scientific or not. That's what criminals are, after all, they justify all the things they do with their version of truth. Maybe they think they are doing something for a noble cause, maybe they do it because they think the world is unfair and they deserve better......"

"There is this case...it's the Revanchole Serial Killer. Recently, a woman in Le Jardin named Adrianna Couture fell victim to the RSK. The case of Adrianna Couture in particular is a little peculiar, she made it to the shore with very severe injuries, and in her hand, she was holding two vials of enriched pale."
"The two vials of enriched pale are enough to convince me that there is something bigger going on here, the RSK might not be some petty serial killer that's just after money and women."

"I don't really know what could be their true motive for now."
 
East Revachol
Lower East Esperance
08.07




  • "Hrrmmmm," says Marquez. He watches as the mantis sways back and forth. After a few moments it comes to a stop at which point Marquez takes it back to it's terrarium behind him.

    "If you're going to have any success with this sequence killer you're going to have to find some more information about the previous deaths in his sequence," says Marquez. He looks at you now and you see a certain wisdom in his eyes.

    "Unless he's been careful, all of his victims should be clustered around a single area," he continues, "find out where that cluster is and you'll know where to start looking for your man."

    [Logic Passive Success]: Wait a minute, you never mentioned the killer's gender.

    The ex-detective turned pet shop owner notices the gears turning in your head.

    "These sequence killers are often men," says Marquez, "and they often kill women. Not always of course. But I've read the papers. He's picking them carefully." He doesn't look at you now, he looks somewhere past you, "they can't be ordinary women, they have to be cultured, refined, knowing. Years of work in wonderful, graceful shape - that he breaks. Over and over again."

    Marquez falls silent. Then: "Please feel free to wander through the shop. If you like, the other mantises are right over to my right here, and we have both male and female variants."

 

  • Tlon said:
    "Hrrmmmm," says Marquez. He watches as the mantis sways back and forth. After a few moments it comes to a stop at which point Marquez takes it back to it's terrarium behind him.

    "If you're going to have any success with this sequence killer you're going to have to find some more information about the previous deaths in his sequence," says Marquez. He looks at you now and you see a certain wisdom in his eyes.

    "Unless he's been careful, all of his victims should be clustered around a single area," he continues, "find out where that cluster is and you'll know where to start looking for your man."
    Click to expand...
    "We will certainly do exactly that. Then locating zones of interest shouldn't be hard." Rufus nods in unison as Diego responds.

    Tlon said:
    [Logic Passive Success]: Wait a minute, you never mentioned the killer's gender.

    The ex-detective turned pet shop owner notices the gears turning in your head.

    "These sequence killers are often men," says Marquez, "and they often kill women. Not always of course. But I've read the papers. He's picking them carefully." He doesn't look at you now, he looks somewhere past you, "they can't be ordinary women, they have to be cultured, refined, knowing. Years of work in wonderful, graceful shape - that he breaks. Over and over again."

    Marquez falls silent. Then: "Please feel free to wander through the shop. If you like, the other mantises are right over to my right here, and we have both male and female variants."
    Click to expand...
    The glint in Diego Marquez's eyes draws him in. Rufus cannot deny there's a mystical aura to this ex-detective.
    "I see......"
    Rufus grabs his chin and thinks about what Diego Marquez said.
    Adrianna Couture was reported missing for long before she shows up again, barely alive, she was held captive in some place just as the other women. These women could be subjected to something...awful...before they were executed, perhaps they were subjected to torture or some sort of wicked experimentation?

    [Encyclopedia:-] Briefly recalls all or several victims of the RSK from the news.

    Perhaps the RSK saw something special in these women that he failed to notice, perhaps he lacks the mindset to truly detect the hidden qualities that the predator smells.
    [Inland Empire:-] What if he is the RSK, what would he smell? Besides being rich, any other notable trends?
    [Logic:-] Detect potential underlying trends with logic.

    Diego gestures to the mantises for sale, Rufus's eyes follow absent-mindedly until he is pulled back to reality once again.

    "Oh. I suppose if it's something rather low maintenance like a mantis, I can afford one." Rufus is a little hesitant at first, but he thinks a short-lived pet might not be a bad influence for him, it might be what he needs to fully reshape his impression on owning a pet. Leaving empty-handed might seem a little rude after all.

    "How about you choose one for me?"
    "Mr. Marquez, what do you think makes a mantis special? What to consider when you pick one?"
    "Does one think rationally, or they simply let their inner voice guide them?"
 
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East Revachol
Lower East Esperance
08.11




  • [Encyclopedia Formidable Success]: All of the victims of the RSK have so far shared a few traits. All of them have been women in their early to mid forties and each has come from wealth. Whether they made that wealth themselves or whether they were born into it doesn't seem to matter - what matters is what you recall seeing and being highlighted on the news and in the papers in photo after photo. Each of the women was a socialite, ritzy, that moved through the rarefied air of Ultraliberal high society. Each of the women had about them a certain Old Old World flair: evening dresses, gloves, jewels of mind boggling value. All had gone missing on thrill seeking tours out on the sea, either to go deep sea diving off the coast or to go Pale-gliding, a recently invented "sport" where people waterboard behind a boat that dips in and out of the porch collapse at the edge of the Pale. The break down of physics at the porch collapse allows for high flying jumps but is dangerous not only for the body but for the mind should a boarder lose their balance and fall in. The "sport" currently exists only in a extralegal sense - though not strictly speaking illegal several local codes essentially ban the practice.

    [Inland Empire Medium Success]: You imagine the figure of a man, a dark silhouette. While you cannot makeout his features you can see his clothes - he dresses well, if not flaunting his wealth than faking it. Any smell of new money is eliminated from his person - no refined woman of Le Jardin, so classy, so savvy, would ever allow herself be approached by a pretender. And no one who didn't fit in to Ultraliberal high society could have even gotten near them without having been noticed by now.

    [Logic Heroic: Obvious Success]: The water - the boats - the Pale-gliding! This is the central point to all the cases - not all the women went missing from the same part of Revachol. Not only were some from ritzy Saint Batiste but one woman was actually poor, from Martinaise somewhere. The only way for the killer to be able to go to all these places easily is by boat - which would also allow him to offer diving or -gliding services. The boat would also let him dump them in the ocean, only for them to wash ashore. He has to mean for them to be found - he could have started dumping the bodies into the Pale himself. It would be dangerous but it would stop the bodies from being found. That he didn't start doing that once the coverage of RSK started means he doesn't care.

    ---

    At your request, the retired detective smiles.

    "I can open the terrariums for you detective," he says, "but the mantis chooses you, not the other way around. Simply go and see them, and let them call to you."

 
A nod. Not much to be said, at this point. The preacher shared what is important. The rest he likes to talk about...

"We'll all know one day, you're right. Once science knows what's wrong with those weather balloons, and finally backs your theories, right? Might come by at some point, hear about the whole story before everyone else does. Once there're no murderers running around." She scribbles down the preacher's name and 'the sphere' in her notebook, then turns to face Lt. Barker. "This is where the trail ends for now, I'd say. Could have been headed literally anywhere."

She makes a few steps back towards the building before continuing her line of thought. "Maybe some security cam in the area caught him, if we're lucky. If not, we're looking for a redheaded man who entered the bathroom, but never left it. Unless there's more to be found upstairs, that's... not that much. At least if noone knows him."
 
Tlon said:
At your request, the retired detective smiles.

"I can open the terrariums for you detective," he says, "but the mantis chooses you, not the other way around. Simply go and see them, and let them call to you."
Click to expand...
Rufus grins at the sight of the ex-detective's infectious smile, acknowledging what Diego said. He kneels down to levels his eyes with the mantises, the memory of how one of these tiny creatures was trying to get into his mind is still fresh, he feels increasingly compelled to know more about them the more he dwells on that memory.
"Alright, which one of you have a story to tell?" he mumbles, feeling a slight echo reflecting off the glass separating him and the mantises.

[Inland Empire:-]: What feels like a humming calls out to Rufus. In his head he feels the vibration, it feels like a beautiful song of inaudible frequencies. It leads his eyes to a mantis coated in gold and emerald. The mantis stays motionless as it stares into the distance, indifferent to its world behind the glass wall.

"Well, little guy, I can tell you my stories too." Rufus whispers as he stood and places his index finger next to the mantis like a stairway from above, the mantis turns and instinctively climbs up to his finger, its head twitches around to inspect the surrounding as Rufus lifts it up.


"Let's find a new home for him, I'll bring this guy with me."

"It's almost time for me to go, Sir."
"Once again, thank you for everything, Mr. Marquez. You helped me a lot and opened my eyes in many ways, I am glad that you provided me with these opportunities."Rufus turns to Diego Marquez and expresses his gratitude one last time, ready for his departure.
 
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East Revachol
Uptown
20.00


  • The last of the Ultraliberal office drones shuffle onto their bus and the two detectives watch as it pulls away into the night. The Sphere, smiling, nodding, takes his leave to one of the many nooks and crannies in Uptown where the homeless find refuge in the night. The crime scene technicians finish up the last parts of their duty. In the time that the scene has been under lockdown the lazareth's van has arrived, waiting for when the techs give the signal that it's time to bag up the remains. More prisec from other parts of Mundi Medtech HQ have arrived as well, and are talking with a few of the patrol officers minding the perimeter. Their conversation centers around the procedures that will need to be followed and what prisec needs to do to stay in compliance of the law - the usual post incident chatter.

    {{Two Thoughts are made available to each of the two detectives}}

    Mundi Medtech - New Miracles for a New You
    Problem:
    Solution:
    Research Time: 24hrs
    Contemplation:
    • -2 Esprit de Corps: How much does prisec make anyway?
    Completion:
    • 1 Strong Buff

    Big Guns
    Problem:
    Solution:
    Research Time: 24hrs
    Contemplation:
    • -1 Composure: Fighting heavy ordinance on a cop salary
    • -1 Logic: Access to Ister Anti-Personnel guns implies so many things...
    Completion:
    • 2 buffs
 
East Revachol
Uptown
20:01


  • [Shivers Legendary Fail]: The city always knows but tonight she keeps it from you. And what can you expect? Killers don't like to be found, they hide in the anonymous back alleys, on the edges of the sprawl...someplace veiled from your senses, hidden among the hum of city life.
 
A few more things before she can call it a day - mostly making sure that all the bits and pieces find their way onto her desk at some point. Ask those from the upper floor for their results. Find out if someone from either Entroponetics or Experimental Chemnistry happens to be a redhead. Inquire about the stolen vials, and make sure that the camera footage really gets sent over. Better be safe than sorry, and mention that twice... make sure that the bathroom was thoroughly checked for any additional hints, too... she'll do her part if only the other people do theirs... the right people to talk to should get out at some point, should be simple enough to simply wait near the ruined facade.

While she does that, her eyes never rest. To put all the clues together - a task for later. But one can't do that if too many are missing, and it feels like there's more...

[Perception +6] Let's try to spot the missing piece...
 
East Revachol
Uptown
20:02


  • [Perception Legendary Fail]: You scan the crime scene once again from where you stand but the details you see are the ones you're already aware of.
 
East Revachol
Precinct 17
08.51




  • Lt. Winehouse returns from his foray to see the retired legend Diego Marquez and Lts. Argall and Barker arrive at the station for the first time today, after being dispatched to the smash and grab at Mundi Medtech HQ last night. The precinct buzzes with life as RCM officers go to their work with purpose in the fresh light of the morning sun. Although the occasional perp is hauled into the cells the morning is dominated by other detective reviewing their cases and patrol officers buzzing dispatch with the rigmarole of traffic citations. The smell of burned coffee hangs in the air, along with slight hints of the bread and bacon that makes up much of the militia's breakfasts.

    The detectives scarcely have time to greet each other when Lt. Jerome Nowak comes upon them.

    "Captain is waiting for us," he says. He herds the three of them toward the back center of the building, toward the glass door that reads: SVANKMAJER

    They say she is a veteran of the dirty wars in Samara, back before the advent of ceramic armor, when all that kept a bullet out of one's flesh were the clothes on ones back. As the story goes she was part of the Occidental Special Forces and a member of the first class of women to be allowed to enter that rarified and male dominated task force. As a testament to the respect they garnered (or as an attempt to break the fledgling female members) her unit was among the first sent to the jungles of the Apricot Suzerainty, where the bush is thick with the crude and makeshift traps of insurgents. The Captain does not talk about those times - it came up only once during the formal review before she was made captain and officially it has never been brought up again.

    Unofficially it causes a great deal of awe. Captain Svankajer is a smaller woman - five foot five at her tallest, when she was young, and less now that age hunches her - with the look of a tough old buzzard. Her white hair is kept up in a bun that has remained unchanged for the entire careers of some officers at precinct 17. Older veterans like her sometimes have a brashness or gallows humor about them, but she does not. Svankmajer is of the other kind, that living dead kind, still in some war of her own and both disciplined and skilled in fighting it.

    Her office itself is something out of the RCM manual. The only documents on the wall are official RCM guidelines along with a board where documents of various types are pinned. Behind her is a series of books detailing the involved criminal code of Revachol, RCM procedures, and relevant case law. Her desk is clean and neat and contains little more than a notebook, some writing utensils, and her name card on the front in brass. Behind her is her personal radio computer, from which she receives or directs missives to or from the larger cop bureaucracy. No pictures or personal items of any kind save for a simple wooden bowl holding some apricots.

    Captain Svankmajer herself sits at her desk, reviewing a few documents. She glances up and on seeing you enter straightens herself and places her hands, fingers interlocked, before her on the desk.

    "Detectives, no need to sit, I am hoping this will be brief," she says. Her voice is raspy, even tremulous, but the words stand as solid as stone.

    "As you no doubt have already put together from the papers there is a sequence killer roaming the streets of Revachol. What you have not been made aware of is that this killer is operating not only in Revachol but across different isolas - we have recieved reports of similar slayings in Oranje in and Yugo-Graad. This is why we haven't put together a task force to handle this already - CBI is overseeing the investigation across the isolas now and they want things done their way. We did not get the go ahead to assemble a formal task force until now, which is why you are here.

    You have been chosen so as to adhere to certain directives. CBI was adamant that the task force be made up of an - their words - "eclectic assortment" of detectives. They emphasized that different styles of investigator were necessary in order to cast a wider net. I am not familiar with the research that supports this but the order has come directly from the Coalition Subcommittee on Policing and an order is an order.

    Winehouse and Nowak, you two were sent to handle what CBI was able to predict - that the killer would strike again in Revachol, the victim fitting the profile from across the other two isolas. Argall and Barker, you two were sent on my hunch. Enriched pale was found in one of the victims body's up in Oranje. When the call came in that there was a break in at Mundi HQ, the main researcher of the substance...well, that's why you were summoned on such short notice.

    These two incidents are linked. I am confident that as you uncover more you will find this to be the case."

    "Forgive me for saying so captain-" begins Jerome.

    "You have neither requested nor received permission to speak lieutenant," says Captain Svankmajer firmly.

    "I will be frank with you all," she continues, "you would not have been my first, second, or perhaps even third choices for this assignment. Nonetheless, you four will be representing Precinct 17, the Revachol's Citizens Militia, and Revachol herself on the interisolary stage in this matter. The CBI expects results, which means I expect results. Find this killer. I'd prefer you do it before the other units do. You are ordered to interpret that last statement as jocular encouragement."

    A knock at the door and in enters a man you have seen around the precinct before. He is a man of a certain age, sporting a mustache that may have had it's origin in the disco of the 30s. He has the dark skin and kinked hair of Semenine heritage.

    "You will report to Sergeant Smith here," says Captain Svankmajer, "he has been briefed in all the materials provided us from our partner units in Mundi and Graad. He has also reviewed the case files from the incidents yesterday. Sergeant, tell them."

    Finished speaking, the captain returns to the documents she was reviewing before.

    "Lieutenants," says Sergeant Smith with a professional nod, "you will for the time being of course be left to oversee your investigations as you see fit. I'm sure you already have some leads to follow up on. You will also however, have one place you will have to visit on the RCM's behalf. Our partner unit in Oranje has requested that our task force, or a representative of it, be sent to go meet with the chief investigator of their side of the case. The Oranje cases were the first ones to be identified as part of the killer's sequence, and their investigator is insistent that he meet his "Revacholian brothers" to go over the case in person. I know the man in question, a Lieutenant Visser. He's...an odd one. But still, as chief investigator his suggestions carry weight. You need not go speak with him immediately, but he will want to see you depart for Oranje within the week."

    "Good," says Captain Svankmajer. She does not look up from her documents as she says this. "now out of my office detectives. You have your marching orders. I must speak with Sergeant Smith in private, you can have a more formal briefing with him later."

    The captain makes a slight shooing motion with her hand and by the force of the cop-geist you leave her office and wander to Lt. Nowak's desk, the nearest one out of the four detectives'.
 
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