<b>GM Post<br/>
Date and time: </b>Monday, 16th July, 8:41<br/><b>Location: </b>158 Syracuse Ave<br/><b>With Whom: </b>Daisy, Seto, Waverly.<br/><b>Trigger warnings: </b>Bad language<br/><br/>Before anyone can say anything more, they are interrupted by an insistent "BRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGG .... BRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGG .... BRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGG ....."<br/><br/>The sound can be easily traced to the out-dated land-line phone sitting undisturbed on it's base station on the windowsill. Before anyone can move to answer it, the voice mail cuts in. A man's voice, a pleasanyt enough baritone without anything unusual to mark it as memorable anounces:<i>"Hi, you've reach Peter Greyson's voicemail. Sorry I can't answer right now, so leave a message after the beep or try my mobile number..." </i>The voice rattles off a number.<i><b>BEEEEEEP</b></i><br/><br/>A different voice, gruff and clearly not in a good mood, starts talking: "Greyson, where the<i>fuck</i>are you! Your shift started nearly three quarters of an hour ago. You better get your ass in gear and get here fucking pronto or you can kiss your job goodbye! And turn your mobile back on man, all I'm getting is an out of service message. Seriously, man, at least fucking call me if you got a problem!"<br/><br/><b>Name Of Character: </b>Karen "Scoops" Brightspring<br/><b>Date and time: </b>Monday, 16th July, 8:41<br/><b>Location: </b>Syracuse Ave and Lower 17th Street intersection, 300 yards from the crime scene.<br/><b>With Whom: </b>Uniformed officers manning the roadblock<br/><b>Trigger Warnings: </b>None<br/><br/>Karen climbed out of the car and swore vehemently. The cops had Syracuse closed off from 17th to Boundary and were only letting traffic out, after the drivers were interviewed by the cops on the roadblock.<i>Damn it woman, if I didn't love you so much, I'd be seriously pissed that you didn't tell me there was something big going down. </i>Her thoughts were in English as she only spoke Cheyenne with her grandmother and uncle Black Bull, and only really used the language to tease her wife, who had, irritatingly enough, actually gone out of her way to learn it!<br/><br/>She approached the cop who seemed to be in charge with silver chevrons on his dark blue uniform. "Excuse me, er Sergeant ... Bailey?" She read his name tag, as he turned towards her.<br/><br/>"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, but there's been a major incident and we can't allow any traffic in for the time being. If you live in the road, there's a a shelter on the 7-11 parking lot, but otherwise I'd advise taking a different route."<br/><br/>"Ah, right thank you." Karen had her phone in her hand and was surreptitiously recording the conversation. "Do you know what sort of incident? I mean with all this, it has to be something unusual, right?"<br/><br/>"I can't really say, ma'am. All I know is it's 'major'."<br/><br/>"I see. But I don't see the fire department or ambulance. Is it true that the M.E. was here earlier? She's a good friend of mine, you see...?"<br/><br/>That took Bailey off guard. "Uh, oh right, well yes, um." He paused and retracted quickly, but too late, "Uh I mean, I can't say one way or the other, ma'am. Just that there's a major incident..."<br/><br/>Karen's sharp mind put two and two together and quickly came up with twenty-two.<i>Major incident, no fire, no ambulance, massive police presence, plus Teeny Tina, equals ... Murder?</i>It was the only thing that made sense. To confirm it: "Have the police managed to identify the murder victim yet?"<br/><br/>"I don't think so ma'a.... Uh I mean who says there's a murder victim?"<br/><br/>"You just did, plus it is kind of obvious, Sergeant." She grinned and pulled out a business card, handed it to him. "Thank you ever so much, you've been really helpful." And with that she turned away, the story already writing itself in her head. Not Pulitzer material, maybe, but certain to grab the headlines in the small, sleepy town of Ubiquitous.