<b>Name Of Character: Marty<br/>
Date and time: </b>Monday 16th July, 08:05 - 8:10<br/><b>Location: Syracuse crime scene, outside<br/>
With whom: Roland, Seto, Gallatino<br/>
Trigger Warnings: </b>None<br/><br/><div class="bbm_float fright" style="float:right;margin:0 0 5px 10px">
<div class="bbImageWrapper js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/fancy-jpg.127711/" title="fancy.jpg">
<img alt="fancy.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/fancy-jpg.127711/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="507" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='900' height='507' viewBox%3D'0 0 900 507'%2F%3E" style="width: 276px" title="fancy.jpg" width="900"/>
<noscript><img alt="fancy.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="507" src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/fancy-jpg.127711/" style="width: 276px" title="fancy.jpg" width="900"/></noscript>
</div>
</div>"Looking better and better every day, Roland." It was a small dig he often made eluding to the retirement he often threatened when days got long. "Got a professional coming this weekend to photoshoot the fancy ladies," Marty remarked with a chuckle to Captain Roland as he headed on his way. Fancy chickens. Ridiculous to him, but beloved by his partner Ron. He brought out his notebook as Yalsa began giving them the scene information they'd gotten as first responders, his eyes snapping from the page to looking over his glasses to the officer as he spoke.<br/><br/>"Mhm. Mhm. Mhm," he muttered quietly as his mind filtered all the facts as they came in and noted ones that hadn't. Facts not available could be just as important as the ones that were.<br/><br/>Seto had given his orders, clear and concise. He liked that about Seto, he never paused, never waffled in his decisions. "Alright Seto, I'm going to take Gallatino with me..." Approaching homes to interview as a pair gave a sense of legitimacy and security for the people whose doors they'd be cold knocking on as well as giving the detective an extra set of eyes to pick up anything subtle that might go missed when talking and writing. It was the preferred procedure and the rookie officer wasn't doing much of anything except babying his belly. He could come along for a little old-fashioned gumshoe work.<br/><br/>He headed over to the resting officer and waved him to come along with him. "C'mon, kid, you're coming with me." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a little plastic dispenser of Tic Tacs. "Here, have a mint. No one wants your vomit breath in the morning," he chided wryly. Ah, kids...