conversations: human
conversations:  The rain runs down the mans face, into his eyes.
  He does not stir.
  His papers lie in a gutter alongside him, where someone has kicked them.
  He does not move to pick them up.
  In the distance, a siren sounds, then draws nearer.
  The lights flash and dance off of the mans pale skin, red, white, blue.
  Colors promising freedom and justice for all.
  Now figures stand over him.
  He does not see them.
  He does not feel as they bend over him, drawing the chalk line which borders his corpse.
conversations: D20ragon:
conversations: human
conversations:  Charlotte leans over the railing of the third floor fire escape, looking down at the crime scene below.
  
   "Idiot."  she murmurs under her breath.  "At least you got the information." 
  
  She turns back to the wall of the building, taking an electric torch and a book of lock picks from under her coat. She unlocks the door to the unoccupied flat beside her, and enters the darkness with the briefcase that was resting against the wall.
  
  She opens up the briefcase and quickly scans the first few documents. Apparently satisfied, she pulls another small notebook and marks a page with a pen.   I'll have to find the dumb sap's contacts, and whoever employed that devil's grandmother.  
  
  In the morning, she'll mosey into the police station with some sob story about how her boyfriend was out late drinking last night and didn't come home.
  
  Until the streets quiet down though, she'll be sitting in the corner of a shady apartment, one hand on her knife.
conversations: Hexalan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Several cold, cramped hours pass.
  A detective shows up, asking run of the mill questions, none of which are answered to well enough. He investigates the area for a while longer, then gives it up, bringing the body back to the police station.
  The cops stand around a bit longer, smoking and drinking coffee. Then they to depart, leaving three unhappy officers to watch over the crime scene.
conversations: D20ragon:
conversations: human
conversations:  Charlotte glances at a wristwatch, then stands up.   Time to go.  
  
  She steps into the dinghy inner hallways, making sure to lock the door behind her. As she passes the building manager on her way out the building, she drops an envelope on his desk and puts her finger to her lips, smiling. The man looks around, hastily pocketing the envelope, before returning to his early morning "work".
  
  Charlotte steps out into the pre-dawn gloom. She smiles at first, and walks directly towards the three sentries.
  
   "Now, what are you three fine gentlemen doing out here so early?"  Charlotte pretends to just notice the bloodstained road and chalk outlines, and feigns surprise.  "Oh, goodness! What happened here?" 
conversations: Hexalan:
conversations: human
conversations:  The rain is getting annoying. Sibyl is pretty sure what little was left of the dye in her hair  had run out. At least her coat was black. And on the bright side, the downpour also made life easier. People simply walked about with their heads covered, their eyes down, their collars up, and their minds intent on getting wherever they were going. No one looks twice at anyone else, even strange girls with peculiarly colored hair.
  
  Clutching her notebooks tightly, she hurries along. This had been a rather unprofitable day. Or night, rather. Her contact hadn't shown up. She had lost her bag, but at least she still her had books. She had had to cover them with her hat to prevent them from getting wet.
  
  Looking quickly around, she slips into an alleyway.  Right. Left. Then left again.  The derelict building she called home wasn't quite waterproof, but it was better than nothing, and she needed a rest. There was also the advantage of having no neighbors whatsoever. No permanent ones, at least.
conversations: Rysc:
conversations: human
conversations:  Originally Posted by Hexalan 
   Charlotte glances at a wristwatch, then stands up.   Time to go.  
  
  She steps into the dinghy inner hallways, making sure to lock the door behind her. As she passes the building manager on her way out the building, she drops an envelope on his desk and puts her finger to her lips, smiling. The man looks around, hastily pocketing the envelope, before returning to his early morning "work".
  
  Charlotte steps out into the pre-dawn gloom. She smiles at first, and walks directly towards the three sentries.
  
   "Now, what are you three fine gentlemen doing out here so early?"  Charlotte pretends to just notice the bloodstained road and chalk outlines, and feigns surprise.  "Oh, goodness! What happened here?"  
   
  
  "Murder, miss. Becoming more common these days. Sad, ain't it."
  The cop spits to the side.
  "Now move along. Nothing to do with you, just doing my job."
conversations: D20ragon:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Oh, dear."  Charlotte mournfully gazes at grisly scene, then looks back up at the officers.  "Well, at least we have good men of the law like yourselves to keep people in line."  
   
   Spoiler: Assuming they don't start griping about the brass wasting people on empty crime scenes instead actual policing or something  
  Charlotte meanders off, muttering about criminals and hooligans, vaguely in the direction of her shop.
   
conversations: Hexalan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Vincent did not like the rain. Water would work its way into it's joints, and boil off as it moved. Luckily the oversized coat and hat kept the worst of the damp off, though it did cause the Mechanical Man to steam slightly. It also meant the park was empty, the strays and birds tucked comfortably in their nests and bolt-holes. Vincent had found the small building by ducking through the Alleys, a nice little bolt-hole of his own to wait out this interminable rain. It wasn't perfectly waterproof, with great fat drips of soot-muddied runoff gently impacting throughout the derelict structure.
  
  A woman entered, her shockingly white hair slick with rain, her hat soggy in one hand over a hidden bundle. She was clearly not expecting Vincent. Which made them equals in that respect, at least.
  
  Vincent's purple eyes glowed a faint purple in the dim lighting, round and unblinking(though occasionally they dimmed in an approximation.), set in a flat mask of a face of brass.
  
  "Good morning." The voice was scratchy, like someone speaking from the end of a phonograph, though reverberant and well-cultured. The Mechanical Man stood slowly and politely, though it didn't remove its hat, keeping all features but for its eyes hidden from the pale-haired Sibyl.
conversations: Snacs:
conversations: human
conversations:  Sibyl froze. Unfortunately, someone else was here, though she wasn't quite sure whether he fell into the category of possible neighbor. And he didn't seem to be...well, he wasn't...organic. The brass-faced man? machine? speaks, a rough sound, but polite enough.
  
  
   
   Originally Posted by Icarus Smith 
   "Good morning." 
   
  
  Scanning the area for a relatively dry spot, she sets down her books, first wringing out her hat slightly. Picking up the larger of the two notebooks, she digs around in her pocket for her pencil, pauses, scribbles something on a page, and then turns it towards the...stranger.
  
    Good morning. Waiting out the rain, too?  
  
  She wasn't quite sure what exactly there was to say to a mechanical man--the building wasn't really hers, per se--but she was hoping he could read. She didn't know how, or what, those glowing purple eyes saw.
  
   Quite the strange meeting. A human with no voice and a machine with one. 
conversations: Rysc:
conversations: human
conversations:  The Mechanical Man slowly bent down his head, peering at the scrawled message. Curious.
  
  
  "Hmm. Quite. I'm quite waterproof, but the rain drives away the birds in the park. And standing out in the open while it rains can be construed as quite suspicious, does in not? " Those purple, glowing eyes gave no tells, no reaction a human could cling too. At least its voice seemed polite enough.
  
  "Ah, forgive my manners. I find myself in these troubled times in impolite company." A broad hand of delicately burnished brass the size of a frying pan lifts, grasping the broad duster the mechanical man wore, tipping it up politely before removing it.
  
  No nose or visible mouth to speak of, the brass man's head was smooth and hairless, the neck corded with thick, plated wires.
  
  "Vincent Davenport, so pleasant to meet your acquaintance. At least, as long as you don't run screaming to the police ." it was hard to tell if the amused, polite voice was being sarcastic or not.
conversations: Snacs:
conversations: human
conversations:  The white-haired girl raises an eyebrow as the mechanical man lifts off his hat. Or maybe it was at the mention of his name.  Interesting. Hadn't someone mentioned...? Though really, how many mechanical men would there be around here...  She flips the notebook and scrawls a reply.
  
    Yes, quite.
  
  Sibyl, pleasant under the same condition.
  
  Welcome to stay, even if hospitality's uncertain bec. neither of us owns the place.  
conversations: Rysc:
conversations: human
conversations:  "I supposed so. Very few with the opportunity or desire to alert local law enforcement spend their mornings in derelict buildings, no?"The voice is tinged with amusement as those unblinking eyes regard Sibyl.
  
  "Seeing as how I have neither rights, nor the ability to own property, I am finding myself increasingly lax in interpreting personal property laws." Up close the Mechanical Man was big and broad, dressed in a broad overcoat of a dark material, double-breasted with well-shined brass buttons. High collars and a hat meant the Mechanical Man could probably stay unobserved in public, as long as it didn't make eye contact with anyone, at least.
conversations: Snacs:
conversations: human
conversations:  The corners of Sibyl's mouth twitch. Perhaps she might have smiled. Instead, she scrawls a reply.
  
    Make yourself comfortable, then.  
  
  Placing the book down again, she starts wringing out her dripping hair. She'd get her things in order once this Vincent Davenport left.
conversations: Rysc:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Thank you kindly Ms. Sibyl."The voice went quiet as the Mechanical Man turned and stepped back to where it had been standing and then...went totally still. Not in the way a living creature stops moving. There was no breathing, no fidgeting, not even the light sway of balance to stay upright. Instead Vincent just went as solid as any inanimate object. The purple eyes gleamed faintly in the poor lighting as the rain washed the roof above them. Like a mannequin it was worryingly easy for one to forget it was in the room when not in view, just another part of the decor despite the brass-buttoned coat and wide-brimmed hat in one hand.
conversations: Snacs:
conversations: human
conversations:  Sibyl regards the now-still mechanical man with some curiosity.  Well, he  is  a machine after all. It makes sense that this is how he rests.  When he doesn't move again after a few moments, she shrugs, and moves off deeper into the building to her "room."
  
   Although I should probably stay out there. Better for him not to come looking for me. 
  
  Returning with a bag and yet another book, she leans against the driest wall. Picking up the previously unopened notebook, she begins comparing it with the one she's just brought. Every so often she makes marks something down in one or the other.  Hm. Can't see if anyone would be interested in that...maybe the next... 
conversations: Rysc:
conversations: human
conversations:  Originally Posted by Hexalan 
    "Oh, dear."  Charlotte mournfully gazes at grisly scene, then looks back up at the officers.  "Well, at least we have good men of the law like yourselves to keep people in line."  
   
   Spoiler: Assuming they don't start griping about the brass wasting people on empty crime scenes instead actual policing or something  
  Charlotte meanders off, muttering about criminals and hooligans, vaguely in the direction of her shop.
   
   
   
  
  "Yes, well, never fear, miss. The Chicago police department is at your service."
  The policeman tugs his cap, then looks up, as though something had just occurred to him.
  "Do you mind if we ask a few questions?"
conversations: D20ragon:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Oh, of course not! Anything to help end these gruesome horrors!"  Charlotte smiles vapidly.
conversations: Hexalan:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Thanks, miss. Now, we'll start with the usual. Where were you the night of the killing? Nearby?
  When did you first see the body?"
conversations: D20ragon:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Well, if this was just last night, I was around, I suppose. I was visiting my old man Henderson, he works in the building over there,"  Charlotte waves vaguely at the building she just exited,  "and the owner gives him his flat at a discount, and he was helping me with some things, and I was around, so I just stopped to say 'Hi', but then that dreadful storm came out of nowhere, so I just stayed until the rain cleared up, but by then it was dark, and there's all these horrid murderers running around, so I just stayed until..." 
   "And as for whoever was here, just  ech! , all that rain and thunder, and leaving all that blood in the gutter...I mean, I wasn't out here, I guess, when whatever happened, who would be out that late? I never saw the, uh, whoever was here, but could you just imagine all that blood! You'd think the rain would've washed it away...I suppose glanced out a few times, but imagine trying to see by lighting flashes and hear over that thunder." 
conversations: Hexalan: