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Dion
Hillan
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Atalanta
Kaithe Dame
Sunny Suzuki
Angstyrainbow
Torack
AntiRpRP
Master EffeXAdri handed Al his camera back, figuring he was more likely to need it, before turning to follow Blythe, walking quietly by her. She was concerned, sure, about her and Teajay, but there would be time to dwell on everything later once they had finished their work. Besides, if there was one thing she had learned it was that filling the silence was sometimes the least helpful thing you could do for someone.
It was habit to assess and analyze, and it was no different with their witness: she noted the spider veins faintly spreading across his cheeks, which, combined with the distinct sickly scent underneath his general malodour, told her that he probably had an alcohol problem. His jacket was too big and unlikely to be warm enough for the weather, but at least it looked like he had layers. That was probably a steel bar tucked in an inner pocket, but he was unlikely to be able to move fast enough for it to be a problem.
He also, apparently, had a pet crow. A pet crow that was talking directly to her.
Well, if any animal was going to correctly identify a police officer without a uniform, it was going to be a crow. Adri looked around, on the off chance a patrol unit had magically appeared, but no, the crow was talking to her. Once upon a time she might have asked herself if she was losing it- way back before she became a cop, maybe.
“I am indeed a cop. Or I was one, I guess. Either way, you’re not in trouble, we just need some help.”
She put one hand on her knees, stooping just low enough to be around eye level with the crow, resting her clipboard flat against her thighs. She could see the man’s mouth moving in her peripheral vision, but she did not directly focus on him. No, she was having a conversation with a crow like she did this on the regular.
It took a moment for her brain to parse what the crow was saying. “You want… blood. My blood?”
“Cawwwp blaaaaad,” it repeated, seemingly happy that its words had been understood. It trotted back up the man’s arm, claws digging into the jacket for purchase, digging its beak into the pocket on the front of the beige jacket several sizes too big for its wearer. The crow emerged with a cooker, stained from far too many uses, flapping its wings to land gracefully at Adri’s feet. It set the metal down on the ground and stared up at her, its head cocked to the side.
The crow seemed to be the one in charge, she decided.
“I get it, you want blood. I- motherfffff-!” She bit down sharply on her lower lip as pain briefly seared through the back of her hand.
In a flash of feathers, the crow had swiped a claw across the back of her hand before retreating to its perch on their witness’ shoulder. She shot it a glare; it merely stared back with its beady eyes, looking from her to the container it had set out on the ground.
“What do you want cop blood for, anyways?” she asked, idly making conversation as the metal cup quickly filled up. The crow was nosing around the man’s jacket again and ignored her, not that she was really looking for an answer. The man’s mouth was moving still; she could hear a faint shhh, a fff, but she wasn’t entirely sure the man even had the capacity to speak.
Once that was done, she pulled her injured hand inside her sleeve and pressed the fabric down to stem the remaining blood flow. “Okay, so, about the auction house-“
The crow resurfaced with a bottle cap this time, dropping it right next to the filled receptacle. She took one look at it and shook her head. “No. That’s not how this is going to work. You got what you wanted, now-“
“CAWWWP BLAAAD!”
This time, at least, she was expecting it to come at her, and all it managed to do was scratch at her clipboard. She sighed, turning her head to look at Blythe as the bird took to the air and swooped down at them. “As entertaining as it would be to arrest a bird, I think it’s your turn.”
It was habit to assess and analyze, and it was no different with their witness: she noted the spider veins faintly spreading across his cheeks, which, combined with the distinct sickly scent underneath his general malodour, told her that he probably had an alcohol problem. His jacket was too big and unlikely to be warm enough for the weather, but at least it looked like he had layers. That was probably a steel bar tucked in an inner pocket, but he was unlikely to be able to move fast enough for it to be a problem.
He also, apparently, had a pet crow. A pet crow that was talking directly to her.
Well, if any animal was going to correctly identify a police officer without a uniform, it was going to be a crow. Adri looked around, on the off chance a patrol unit had magically appeared, but no, the crow was talking to her. Once upon a time she might have asked herself if she was losing it- way back before she became a cop, maybe.
“I am indeed a cop. Or I was one, I guess. Either way, you’re not in trouble, we just need some help.”
She put one hand on her knees, stooping just low enough to be around eye level with the crow, resting her clipboard flat against her thighs. She could see the man’s mouth moving in her peripheral vision, but she did not directly focus on him. No, she was having a conversation with a crow like she did this on the regular.
It took a moment for her brain to parse what the crow was saying. “You want… blood. My blood?”
“Cawwwp blaaaaad,” it repeated, seemingly happy that its words had been understood. It trotted back up the man’s arm, claws digging into the jacket for purchase, digging its beak into the pocket on the front of the beige jacket several sizes too big for its wearer. The crow emerged with a cooker, stained from far too many uses, flapping its wings to land gracefully at Adri’s feet. It set the metal down on the ground and stared up at her, its head cocked to the side.
The crow seemed to be the one in charge, she decided.
“I get it, you want blood. I- motherfffff-!” She bit down sharply on her lower lip as pain briefly seared through the back of her hand.
In a flash of feathers, the crow had swiped a claw across the back of her hand before retreating to its perch on their witness’ shoulder. She shot it a glare; it merely stared back with its beady eyes, looking from her to the container it had set out on the ground.
“What do you want cop blood for, anyways?” she asked, idly making conversation as the metal cup quickly filled up. The crow was nosing around the man’s jacket again and ignored her, not that she was really looking for an answer. The man’s mouth was moving still; she could hear a faint shhh, a fff, but she wasn’t entirely sure the man even had the capacity to speak.
Once that was done, she pulled her injured hand inside her sleeve and pressed the fabric down to stem the remaining blood flow. “Okay, so, about the auction house-“
The crow resurfaced with a bottle cap this time, dropping it right next to the filled receptacle. She took one look at it and shook her head. “No. That’s not how this is going to work. You got what you wanted, now-“
“CAWWWP BLAAAD!”
This time, at least, she was expecting it to come at her, and all it managed to do was scratch at her clipboard. She sighed, turning her head to look at Blythe as the bird took to the air and swooped down at them. “As entertaining as it would be to arrest a bird, I think it’s your turn.”
