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”Like the song says, if you got it, flaunt it” Riley laughed softly and smiled she totally did agree with what she had said. "That is totally true, and that wa-" Riley was about to finish what she was saying then she caught a glimpse of something large falling down from the sky, then a very loud crash. Then she felt instant pain as one of the metal pieces supporting the table hitting her head as well as her right arm. The young woman hit the ground rather hard with a completely dazed look Riley started to feel something warm and wet sliding down the side of her head and right arm. Riley then caught a glimpse of a body that was laying right in front of her, Riley blinked several times trying to clear her vision then she recognized the body of Danica Graves. Looking at the body in horror Riley covered her left hand over her mouth holding back a scream as the music instantly came to a stop then several loud screams.

Riley watched as Cecily quickly stepped up she watched as Cecily quickly went to work to try and preserve the crime scene, then she remembered hearing what had happened six months ago before she moved to Justice and moving into the Boston Heights. Riley looked up towards JD Riley remained very still groaning to herself as she propped herself up against another table.

Then she saw Joseph running up getting some of the people away from the crime scene and then running off towards the uncomplete building that was still under construction, as well as Roy handing Cecily a pair of gloves. Riley looked down she was still holding her drink in her hand and took a sip from it turning her attention back towards JD. "Could you help a girl up?" Riley asked running a hand through her hair wincing slightly as the pain in her forehead was still there.

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You’re doing great. Stay here. Call 911” Tank instructed, crouching down next to Cecily.

She rolled her eyes a bit as he dashed off, shouting about being part of Justice PD. He wasn’t wrong, of course.

”We are 911!” Cecily shouted bitterly after him. If there was one thing she hated about detectives, it was the way they tended to treat forensics technicians. All of their cases were solved because of the work of Cecily and others like her, and yet, they were treated like dirt on occasion. She couldn’t help but feel patronized. She didn’t need to be told she was doing great—she had everything under control.

Well, mostly everything.

Thankfully, Detective Gregory wasn’t nearly as irritating as Tank was. She smiled, accepting the latex gloves from him and slipping them on. She really needed to keep a pair on her person—making a mental note to get a spare set for her purse, Cecily set to work. There wasn’t much she could do to tie off the crime scene at the moment—but what she could do was document it. She didn’t trust anyone there to not move things around. With her phone, she took a quick video, panning around the scene of the murder, before taking specific shots from various angles.

The entire time, she tried not to think about the fact that some half-cocked adventurer went up on an evidence destroying spree. Her nostrils flared—citizens were awful when it came to actually helping the police. They didn’t seem to understand that anything can be evidence. Hell, Cecily wouldn’t have been surprised if they started to lick a bloody knife, not understanding the crucial prints and fibers and hairs and DNA left behind!

Having done her best to document it, she was again presented with her earlier problem: securing the scene before anything happened to it.

It was one of the moments Cecily wished that she had a big old roll of crime scene tape in the apartment. In the efforts of not looking like a crazy, homicidal maniac to her new roommate, she hadn’t brought anything with her. Now she wished she could. Already, the press were beginning to run towards the scene, with all of the skill and grace of an angry mob.

Cursing under her breath, Cecily glanced around frantically. She had to secure the scene somehow—but wait? She hesitated, realizing that some of these people had been in the army. Could she….? It was unusual but…in the name of preserving evidence, she’d have to try.

”Can everyone please form a human barrier, please? If the press get in here, they’ll fuck with the evidence, and we won’t know anything about this.”

She paused for a moment, wondering if she should incentivize them by promising to overlook any stashes of illegal drugs in the apartment during the security sweeps that would inevitably follow. Instead, she relied on the notion that perhaps not everyone in Justice was rotten.

The media came closer, with Channel 6 pushing their way through. Cecily took a deep breath, resisting the urge to scream at them and throw their cameras to the ground. She didn’t need to have broken lenses littering the ground of her crime scene—it was bad enough already!

”Justice Forensics Department, you need to put that camera away,” Cecily said calmly, flashing her badge. ”Or so help me, if you don’t stop this instant, I will not hesitate to personally find every dark secret about you and throw you into prison.”

Her nostrils flaring, she desperately hoped that some of the more sensible tenets would help her out. Continuing to guard the scene, she shoved the camera back, her hand covering its footage. ”We will take questions about this at a later time—down at the station. For now, you need to leave, or you’ll be charged with disruption of justice and evidence tampering.”

She knew that they wouldn’t care—that their lawyers would merely get them out of it, as always. But still, she had to try. There wasn’t much she could do on her own—she’d have to wait for the rest of the forensics team to arrive.

And of course, she’d need to see if her roommate was okay.

After dealing with the press, hardly managing to keep them back from the scene—the vultures!—Cecily carefully approached the corpse. Taking further photographs to be used for evidence, Cecily noticed instantly how beat up and broken Danica appeared. Bruises and cuts littered her body, though it easily could have occurred from her parkour lifestyle—Cecily recalled watching Danica doing insane jumps and leaps of faith.

However, peering in closer, bruises spread around Danica’s neck. The burn marks on the skull were minor, and the wound itself angled. While Cecily specialized in toxicology—poisons—any forensic technician could easily tell what she was looking at.

This wasn’t a suicide—it was a murder.

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The alarm on the oven trilled softly, announcing the completion of the taquitos. Caesar pulled them from the heat with a big, puffy blue oven mitt and set the pan onto the stovetop. It was an example of fairly standard fare, as taken from an American perspective. He quickly set a dishcover atop the entree. These were the activities of normal people doing normal people things, for a normal people block party. All quite normal. All quite people. The Fuzzy Bunny incident aside, Caesar was beginning to feel somewhat at ease in his new surroundings.

Then the music stopped; the party abbreviated by scattered screams in the night. Caesar's illusions of having a pleasant vacation(ish) with family shattered as the terminal breath of one of Boston Height's residents hummed quietly into the unforgiving dusk. The venerable Mexican's features, the scowling of an old man coupled with tired smiles directed at his girls, fell away. He stood a little straighter, like a switch flipped inside of him, awakening something primal. Controlled, but savage.

The nanosecond after Alicia grabbed her weapon, Caesar had his at the ready, following her out of the apartment. Also in unison, he replaced his H&K .45 and assumed a less combative stance, weaving through the crowd toward the source of the disturbance. The body language of the two, Alicia and Caesar, practically screamed similar training, if not an identical basic skill set.

While his daughter took point, Caesar scanned the crowd for reactions that didn't seem to belong. Listening to snatches of conversation en route, he gathered that someone took an ungraceful swan dive from the building across the way. Supposedly, just like last time. This was either a dramatic statement in suicide, an amazing coincidence, or related to the last incident at the last block party. These questions would ordinarily be answered by the local police, but Caesar had heard rumors about the (ironically named) Justice Constabulary. These rumors reminded him of the brutal and corrupt Federal Police to which he once belonged. Just on a smaller scale. No, the former Commandant wanted his own people around him, whether or not they had any meaningful authority in this jurisdiction.

Caesar found Lorna in the crowd and locked eyes with her. He enunciated the single sentence in a clear, carrying voice, "Cookie! Back on the clock." and beckoned her closer with the tilt of his head, toward Alicia and the crime scene. He produced a piece of personal electronics from his front pants pocket, hit a couple of buttons, and transferred it to the lest breast pocket of his vest. A professional satellite phone, apped out and put to good use, he would now have a record of the events of the evening from his point of view, both on his device and in a company server for later retrieval.

Nearing the crime scene, Caesar noted with growing distaste that the more aggressive of the reporters were already making the area more chaotic. A young lady was attempting to do her job - apparently there was already a professional on scene - but it was made difficult by nihilistic media representatives and hamhanded locals. Caesar found the most irritating newsman, a moderately overweight loudmouth with the bullish habit of waving his arms back, as if to push people away who might get in the way of his view of the carnage. Fucking vulture. First on scene. He would make a fine example.

He approached on the reporter's flank, nearest the Examiner present, and clearly spoke, "Need to get by you, sir." while putting one foot forward, just inside the man's peripheral vision. A flailing hand caught a piece of Caesar's arm, which the older man gave in to, stepping back. The only offer of apology from the reporter came in the form of an indignant, "Don't get in my shot, asshole."

Caesar tried again. Same sentence, same step forward. (He was very glad to have recorded the event.) "Need to get by you, sir." The hand flailed back yet again, this time with greater directed force. The reporter actually looked back this time, too late to stop himself and too late to stop what occurred next. The Veteran Beater of Wholesale Ass grabbed the man by the wrist and jerked him halfway off his feet. Unwilling to let him hit the ground, yet, Caesar twisted the man's arm behind his back, wrapping his free arm around the pudgy guy's neck. Just before the reporter lapsed into unconsciousness, he heard a solid rasp whisper in a north Mexican accent, "You're tampering with a crime scene, fucko."

The former Federale took two steps back and let the man collapse onto the blacktop like a sack of squishy hams.

Returning to the edge of the scene, he held out his Private Security and Commandant (ret) credentials, addressed the Forensic Tech. "Ma'am. Police response times in this city are a joke. I have other two people on site right now. May we officially assist your investigation? We can start by holding back the vultures."

Jeremy would be lying if he said he hadn't been hoping someone was up there, he'd been itching for some sort of a fight. Alas, he was let down yet again, there was definitely signs of a fight, the footsteps, the blood, and generally the disturbed muck and grime of the roof. He was just a few minutes too late to the party. Hearing the footsteps behind him, he spun around, half-expecting to get attacked from behind when he saw the detective. Looking him up and down, it was pretty clear Roy had a much more difficult time getting up there than he had. "Duly noted." He nodded his head simply to Roy's threat, turning back around to look over the roof, watching as Roy moved to pick up the cigarette butt.

"Alright, well, give me a pair of those gloves, so I don't uh... 'tamper with evidence.'" He commented, reaching out to take a pair from the detective and slip them on, a rather sarcastic tone to his voice as he began to wander about, muttering something under his breath akin to "I'm an archaeologist, not a detective..." Kneeling down, he tapped a finger against one of the smaller bits of blood on the ground, looking over it on his fingers as he rubbed it in idly, thinking. It was more than obvious to himself, and he assumed to some of the other locals that this was more than a coincidence, first block party in six months, and another supposed 'suicide' - though the suicide angle of this one was far less convincing than it had been six months ago.

Something in Jeremy knew this had to do with Gerard yet again, it wasn't as direct as Peyton's death, but he just had that feeling, that impossible-to-shake twisting feeling in his stomach that he was already falling behind, that he needed to start moving, and fast. He'd put off going to see Gerard's daughter since he got out of prison, he didn't want to drag her into this if he could avoid it, but as much as he hated to admit it to himself - Jeremy had no clue where he was going with this by himself, he needed help. Letting out a sigh, Jeremy stood and moved toward the ledge, peering down to the party, right down onto Danica and the crowd surrounding her. It seemed a few of the others from the Heights were trying to keep the reporters away while the girl examined the body, it didn't exactly look like an easy job.

Then the glint caught his eye.

Adjusting his gaze closer to the building, he narrowed his eyes at the glint coming from the windowsill below him, there it was, the shell casing. "Found it, it's on the window sill below..." Jeremy remembered there was no floor in that hallway, there wasn't going to be a very easy way to get down there. Looking over to Roy, he sighed again, the detective definitely wasn't going to be able to get it on his own, he'd struggled enough getting up to the roof in the first place. "I'll... I'll go get it." He grumbled, having no real desire to end up falling off that building and ending up as the next part of these reporter's story.

"Hell, at least maybe i'll get on tv." He muttered to himself as he moved up to the very edge, peering down and looking for the best way to approach. "This is... Probably not a good idea." He concluded finally before he jumped down, there was some scaffolding below them, it was a ways from the window sill but it'd be a good starting point. Unfortunately, the wood he landed on wasn't quite as strong as it looked, and a half-second after he landed he heard a loud snap as the wood broke and he started to fall again. "Oh, goddammit!" He exclaimed as a hand shot up, just managing to take hold of the metal beam as he hung there, wooden planks making a relatively loud bang against the metal supports below him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jeremy brought his other hand up, hanging from both on the metal bar and locking his eyes on the next step, a smaller brick outcropping ahead of him. The climb began, no support line, no safety net, and as he went along, fingers clinging to thin and weak brick outcroppings as he shimmied and crawled along the outside wall of the building, he realised - this was what he lived for. The rush, the adrenaline, even the fear of falling five stories to his death alongside Danica. Hell, the fact he was putting on a show for the reporters didn't hurt either, it worked up such a feeling within him that he hadn't felt in a long time, since he went to prison. He loved it.

For all the grumbling and complaining, Jeremy was at the top of the world right now, and it was just making him more and more the risk-taker. near the window now, he was as close as he was going to get climbing safely, shifting his body to the left, he took a deep breath before thrusting it to the right, pushing off the wall with his feet and jumping, a brief rush of air going past him as he was thrust over to the window, arms wrapping around the Sill to catch himself firmly, one hand slapping down on the casing so it didn't fly off. Letting out a sigh of relief, he brought up his right hand and opened it carefully, looking over the shell casing as it sat neatly in his gloved palm. Carefully, he wrapped it in the same glove as he climbed through the window back inside, carefully making his way along the gutted interior and back up to the roof, more covered in dirt and grime now, along with a few more scrapes on his hands as he held the casing out toward Roy.

"Remind me not to become a detective."

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Interacting with: Detective Gregory @Lady Amalthea, Jeremy @Pundii

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Tank found the door to the bottom kicked in conveniently. "Cool," he deadpanned as he continued on as fast as his legs could carry him. He was no hero or climber, but he was fit and fast, making it up the first few floors with only a few grunts and two bruises on his arms. The fire escape across the window was a real bitch, though. "Shit..." he muttered. He'd rather not remember the details of that window maneuver he performed, and it got him a bruised ribcage and a cut across his scalp from an out-thrust plank. Still, after he'd made it to the ladder without wetting himself, he ascended the last few floors and hauled himself atop the roof.

He dusted himself off, taking some small splinters out of his hair. "Greg," he said with a nod to his fellow Detective. Tank thought his colleague was an alright guy, which was high praise coming from him. He saw Jeremy handing his fellow detective the Shell casings. He gave him a nod too. "Indy. You guys have been busy." he said, walking along the roof and gazing about with a practiced eye. Tank put his foot on the small concrete parapet along the edge and gazed down at the crowed below. He whistled and stuck a toothpick in his mouth. From what he could tell as he walked along, there'd been some kind of struggle up here. But that could perhaps be disputed. He needed to think.

The next stream of thoughts happened in a matter of moments. Suicide or murder? Well the scene behind points to murder, and it's something he had to concur with. But if it was a suicide, then why would Danica not just shoot herself and then be done with it? The only reason he could see of her killing herself in a way to fall onto the Block Party would be a cry for attention. Admittedly, that was why most committed suicide. But then why not just jump? Other than the quick and painless use of a gun.

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Lyle had never seen a fresh body like this before. He'd never seen a body at a crime scene before, always in files he accepted from clients or he retrieved from the files he could hack. This was up close...he'd never seen anything like this. He'd never dreamed of seeing something like this. His sister had warned him of seeing things like this as soon as he began work on his law degree. His friends always taught of how they would hurt people. But not like this. He never expected this.

As the body descended to the ground and crashed against the table he made no sound. His eyes narrowed. He would by lying if he wasn;t expecting something horrible to happen, not at something of this magnitude, but he could tell what the verdict was before anyone said, he looked around, unsure what to do. He wanted to help, he wanted to run. His mind raced relentlessly before he took a deep breath.

Like that he was off running after Jeremy and the detective to the apartment where the girl had fallen from. He didn't know Dani well, he'd made it his task to try not to get close to anyoone, of course some people he did get to know, but Dani was one he simply knew nothing about. He didn't like that, he hated the idea of knowing simply nothing about someone. It made them an enigma to him..ad now she was dead and there was nothing he could do. He carefully navigated his way to the stairs before realising those stairs he was heading for didn't exist. Great, he was stuck there. He looked up and realised they might have caught someone.

"HEY IS THERE ANYONE UP THERE!" He called up, breathing heavily before muttering. "This is just bloody typical.."

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The party seemed to be in full swing, Lana was happily chatting amongst her neighbours, having drinks and a good time. The music was making her sway from side to side as she watched the people around her, reading them and taking in their little habits and quirks to try and get to know them better. Everything was smooth and nice and then... bam. Everything was turned the fuck upside down and Lana cursed under her breath as she saw the body falling from the building. She knew what was inevitably coming. There had been another murder and Lana was at the scene. A scene meant there would be cops, cops meant there would be questions, questions meant that they'd be looking into her past. That was not something she had to deal with right now.

Edging way from the table slightly as she watched the body falling in what seemed like slow motion, Lana considered running and going back to her apartment but something, she's not sure exactly what, stopped her from moving from her spot. Instead, her hand rose as she pointed at the falling body and she had a deadpan look on her face but her eyes looked as though they were screaming in terror as her mouth was left slightly agape as she watched the poor woman's body plummeting to the ground where she watched it crumple into the table that was her unsuspecting target area.

Lana watched the chaos unfold and simply stood back from the table as everyone else fussed and moved around. Shock and a sombre attitude were going to be Lana's best friend right now. The cops never pushed someone that was in a state of shock for too much information. She'd bring the waterworks out later, for now her expression was one of sorrow and confusion. She stood away as she watched people fussing and yelling around the body of the victim, she looked familiar to Lana but she couldn't place her face to a door number. Shame really but Lana had seen worse things, been through some terrible things, in her life that made her more numb to moments of extreme emotional disrupt.

Keeping herself detached from the commotion, Lana monitored what was going on as best she could. She saw the detective, the new hot guy and some other guy claiming to be a detective run into the building that the latest victim had fallen from. Others fussed around the body and a few others began to shift the media away from the scene as best they could, but the majority of people just stood and gawked, some tears could be heard, screams of surprise and anguish and upset too. None of it phased Lana though but she definitely wasn't her usual self but probably only Lyle would notice anything was wrong with her.

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The party went from casual, breezy and happy to horrible, emotional and hectic within seconds. Lorna instinctively grabbed her pistol from the back of her pants and aimed the gun upwards from where she thought the body may have fallen from but it was hard to tell due to the angle of her point of view. She didn't think she could see anything which pissed her off to no end. Glancing around, Lorna fell into work mode and began to check on the people in the vicinity. She spotted that one of the neighbours was hurt, the rockstar called Riley. Lorna moved over and gave her a quick glance over but it appeared that she had no immediate injuries so she moved on and spotted the media beginning to snake their way into the mix.

"Not so fu--fast. This is not the place for the media, this is an active crime scene. Please step back." Lorna had to stop herself from swearing at the vermin that were known as the media. She was on the job now, swearing was unbecoming of a security specialist and she knew that El Jefe would kill her for swearing before anyone had flipped her lid the wrong way. She had to remember his training.

A news reporter huffed at Lorna and began to peer around her body as if she was just an irritating lightpost. Lorna waved her hand in front of their face and repeated her statement. Same reaction but this time she was shoved into. Lorna forcefully moved the reporter away from pushing around her and repeated her sentence for a third time. "Get the fuck out of my way, bitch! This is the story of the year!!!"

Lorna took a deep breath and shook her head before grabbing the reporter and placing him in a hold lock that she was trained to use without harming her target. She moved them away and released them with a single word warning. "Be-fuckin'-gone." Turning to see where El Jefe and Leash were, her eyes locked with Caesar's and she had to stop herself from laughing at his words. She'd already been on the clock, he just didn't know it yet. Making her way back towards her boss, Lorna happened near Lawson and Alicia found them and asked what had happened. "Gunshot wound. Fallen body. Building just there." She nodded her head to the under construction building from where the body had fallen.

She had spotted some guys running into the building but she had no idea why. She hoped they were trained to deal with crime scenes otherwise they were going to be fucking it up monumentally. Lorna held her hands to her hips and grunted, shaking her head before walking with Alicia over to El Jefe by the crime scene. Hearing Caesar's words she sighed and, despite knowing it was coming, Lorna got a little pissed off knowing that her day off was turning into a working event. She loved her work, but she'd been looking forward to relaxing.

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"You're tampering with a crime scene, fucko."

Cecily tried not to giggle, finding amusement as the war-torn Mexican picked up one of the more obnoxious reporters, twisting his arm in the most sickening and cruel fashion she could imagine, and dropping him to the ground like garbage. If the man hadn't terrified her as well, Cecily would have let out a cheer.

And of course, it would have been entirely unprofessional--her slight thread to the media earlier was bad enough. Still, in Justice, they couldn't really afford firing their forensic techs over things like that. They needed everyone they possibly could get, with the huge amount of crimes that happened.

"Ma'am. Police response times in this city are a joke. I have other two people on site right now. May we officially assist your investigation? We can start by holding back the vultures."

She blinked a bit, her eyes quickly scanning over the credentials he presented. She honestly had no idea if they were fake or not--but she had heard a bit about Machete Security Services. Or at least, she pretended that she had. The credentials looked decent, the media were pushing at her like a mob...

And if there was anything Cecily hated, it was the destruction of evidence. Rules be damned.

"Yes, please, thank you!" Cecily responded, a bit more eager than she would have liked. "I can't legally let you into the crime scene core, but if you would get the media away from the outer perimeter, that would be wonderful..."

She paused for a moment, wondering whether or not she had the authority to authorize payment for the services. She wasn't the head technician -- she was no coroner or ME, certainly. But right now, her job was to secure the crime scene, not to stand here helplessly.

"We can settle the fees once the coroner arrives?" Cecily asked hopefully.

She smiled weakly, glancing up towards the roof. Any evidence up there had already vanished -- Treasure Boy had taken care of that. There'd be nothing to find here. Her best bet would be to try to find fibers, saliva, blood... anything on Danica's body.

Taking another look around the crime scene, she laughed a bit to herself, turning to talk to Riley, only to remember she was off in the crowd, injured.

"Might need to reschedule that date..." Cecily muttered, looking off in Riley's direction.

Well, there wasn't much of a chance to party. Mali had just barely gotten out into the thick of things before there was a bang loud enough to make itself heard over the deafening music. Mali looked up towards the source of the sound and beheld a human body fall from the heavens like lightning. The body smashed into a table, sending shit everywhere and all hell broke loose. Through the people running to and fro, she managed to see enough of the body to recognize it as Danica. She had talked to her a couple times when she moved in a few weeks ago, and had seen her the most out of all the Boston Heights tenants due to living directly below her, but Mal had never really knew too much about her. She was the girlfriend of that other girl who offed herself, and now here she was, kaput.

This was either some kind of statement, or something bigger was going on here.

"Of all the shit that could happen tonight." In the back of her head, Mali wondered if this would lower the rent on her apartment. She got her room at a pretty good rate since it was in the same building where a girl killed herself, and it happening a second time would probably throw more shade on the place. Her conscience chimed in that she shouldn't be thinking about how this could benefit herself personally. Which was true, it was kind of a scumbag thing to do, but she still had the thought. Her conscience also said she should be helping out the others somehow, but that would be dumb. This was a job for the police and a bunch of other people already jumped the gun and leaped into action, including that Mexican family that she was pretty sure consisted of at least one mass murderer, and she's rather not do something to potentially piss them off. So the only thing she could really do at this point was wait. Wait for the police to arrive. Wait to answer whatever questions they would have for her. Wait until she could get back to her apartment room and figure out what the hell to do from here.

At least, that's what she would do if there were a bunch of vultures rushing in to get the scoop. After getting shoved for the third time by some two-bit reporter, she snapped.

"Hey asshole, fuck off!" The reporter turned to give her an equal amount of lip, but then really took a look at just how physically large Mali was in comparison to her. The reporter chuckled nervously and then slinked away, keeping an eye on Mal. Well that was one way she could contribute without interfering with the scene or setting off a psycho with a gun (probably). She left the apartment anticipating having to get into the crowd and dance, but instead she had to play the part of the bouncer. Well at least it was something she knew a bit more about. The bodybuilder walked toward the area with Danica's body and proceeded to kindly ask reporters to either leave or physically intimidate them into at least giving the area some breathing space.

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Life can be hectic enough with just the daily grind; toss in a girl who all but a few people think has just committed suicide onto the sidewalk in the middle of a block party then hectic gets a whole new meaning. Police, firefighters, EMT, Coroner Division have all showed up responding to the calamity. They have had one heck of a time getting passed the crowds and the news crews. Thing is, most are just standing around talking and trying to get their own five minutes of fame on the evening report. No wonder things don't run smoothly in Justice. People either don't care, jump to a conclusion without facts, or completely over step their bounds. It causes problems on so many levels that it is a miracle that anything ever gets solved.

Some of those being interviewed are saying she jumped out a window; others saying she was thrown by someone. Some say they saw or heard her pull the trigger. All of them are either seeing things or full of shit. (Chances are: Full of Shit) She didn't come out of a window, she didn't get thrown, no one down there could have heard her pull the trigger much less see it. It is truly amazing how much information gets scrambled. Why the police ever rely on eye witnesses at all is a mystery. Some say it was just like last time but in reality other than apparent suicide by gun, at first glance it is nothing alike. Peyton had killed herself alone in her apartment, there was a note, no one saw what happened. The only thing the press said was that she killed herself by self inflicted gun shot. Here Danica laid bruised, gun in hand, no note so far, out of the blue, had just talked to people about saving her a plate to eat, and fallen from a five story building after the shot that took her life was fired. People really have a way of seeing what they want to see or assuming information about things they have no access to. The humans of Justice really suck.

The following information is what certain characters are seeing or interacting with when it comes to things at this point.

@Morose - The county coroner has arrived in all his bumbling glory. Nearly tripping over the body as he looked up at the roof above but just barely side steps it. "My my, she did take a dive," he mumbles to himself as he looked towards Cecily. Pulling out some gloves he slips them on and sits down next to the body, his hand reaching out and taking the gun from Danica's cold vice grip like hold. He looks at it for a minute, a Steyr GB. His lips thin before he drops it into an evidence bag and seals it, making a few notes on the bag before tucking it away into his jacket pocket. It may seem odd to see someone pocketing evidence at a scene like this but for those that have worked with him it isn't. Things that get his attention he usually pockets so he has them on him to look at first later without worrying about how long it takes the rest of his crew to get certain bits of evidence from the scene back to his office for examination. (Go ahead and start reply in collab if you wish to speak directly with Wallace and we can go from there to get that take care of.)

@Sigil @Charnobylisk - You two are working to push the press back but they are not being easy about the entire thing. You will probably have to pull your own side arm and threaten them to move back. Police aren't doing anything and even if you do draw they just look the other way as if they don't care. Welcome to Justice. If either of you take note as Coroner Wallace removes the gun from Danica's grip you will probably think it odd that a girl in America would use a rare and out of circuit for at least the last thirty years Austrian pistol to commit suicide.

@Pundii - You got ahold of the shell casing. It is a 9x 19mm Parabellum. Common enough that even with your more day to day knowledge of pistols you could figure it out. What might comes to mind for you since you are an archeologist is the Latin Roots for the name Parabellum; derived from a phrase that means "If you seek peace, prepare for war."

@POOHEAD189 - Looking at the ground you see the foot prints, they are nearly the same size but there are obviously two different treads. One looks like your typical combat boot, similar to what SWAT wears but you aren't sure. The other is smoother, almost no tread at all, smoother and seems to have been more flexible. You would be right to assume that the smoother one was Danica's, you've seen her out climbing on the side of the apartments before like she was some Spiderwoman, always wearing the same worn pair of shoes.

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Alicia closed her eyes for a moment and then looked over towards the body of Danica as they opened once again. Well wasn't this went from a fun and relaxing evening, minus the exploding door, to a full blown shit storm in no time flat. Taking a deep breath she looked at Caesar and Lorna. It was time to get to work.

"Well the fucktards from JPD don't seem to be doing anything, set a perimeter, get any muscle you can that we know and have them start tossing fuckers over the barricade if needed," she said quickly before looking over towards Cecily. "Yeah, we can talk fees later."

Turning Alicia started to direct people away, those that refused to move she would do one of two things; either draw her side arm and point it right at their head or grab them by the back of their shirt and physically toss them over the barrier. She wasn't about to play nice at this point. Alicia was all business and when she was like this she put up with absolutely nothing.

"I said move!" she growled as she pointed her pistol towards the head of the Channel 6 reporter Amy Adams.

"Freedom of the press!" Amy yelled towards Alicia. "I'll sue you and everyone you know!" she added as Alicia took a step forward and narrowed her eyes.

"Feel free to publish anything you want, doesn't mean you are free to fuck of a crime scene. If one bit of evidence gets tainted you will be the first I point a finger at for the D.A. and have you prosecuted," Alicia spat, taking another step forward. Amy spit at Alicia's feet before walking off with her camera man and hoping over the barricade, turning around to continue filming. She wasn't about to loose the story.

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Roy kept looking around as Jeremy went to get the shell casing. Pulling out his flashlight he started looking at the blood patterns on the ground and the foot prints in the grim. What the hell had happened up there. Pulling out his cell he made a quick call.

"Listen I don't give a damn if you are a cop and not spider man, we need a team up here. Well either learn to climb fucking fast or get those hose brains from Station 53 to up the ladder on that damn firetruck to roof and take that route. Oh you hadn't thought of that? And that's why you can't get a promotion you one nutted pond sucking nerf herder," he said before hanging up.

Turning as Jeremy came back he took the shell casing and his brows furrowed as Tank joined them. "9mm," he said as he pulled out an evidence bag from the inner pocket of his jacket and tossed it in. Seeing it he handed it over to Tank so he could take a closer look.

"There's rust on the casing. Who holds onto a bullet long enough for it to rust?" he pondered out loud as he went back to looking at the blood splatter on the ground. Following several drops away from the spray pattern on the edge of the building and towards the right side. There was a thick tread print on the north ledge and then nothing. Looking over it was a straight drop down, no fire escape on this side of the building.

"Tank. I think we need another crew on the next roof over," he said as he pointed to the print how it looked to slide back as if someone jumped. It was a good break between the buildings but the next one over was only four stories high.

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Lawson had been enjoying the block party so far. Sure he hadn't danced yet but he doubted line dancing about be part of the evening. He was content sipping his beer and manning the smoker while he spoke with the girls at his side. He was ever the country gentleman as he did. Nothing seemed to phase him as he handed out plates of BBQ for people to enjoy. That was until the shit hit the fan and as the crash of Danica's body occurred he went into Marine mode as if a light switch had been flipped. His arms instinctively wrapping around Mrs. White and shielding her from any incoming debris or attack. A flash of muscle memory from covering civilians caught in the cross fire over seas.

Slowly he looked back at the scene and his face went blank. No longer that happy jovial smile that he always seemed to wear but one of solemn reflection. Looking towards Lyndsay he could only let her go as she ran off. Figuring she was going to Cam quickly because of everything that went down. Turning he stepped over a bit and took a good long look at the face of Danica, his lips thinning as he stared at her blank dark eyes.

Hearing Riley he looked over to her and nodded. Kneeling down and taking a look at what had happened to her. She was hurt but it could have been far worse. Slipping her arm over his shoulder he helped her too her feet. "Doesn't look bad but we should have the EMT's check you out just to make sure," he said in a calm voice before helping her over to the ambulance parked on the other side of the barricade and set her down on the back of the bumper. Stepping aside to let the paramedics do their thing to make sure the rock star was okay.

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As Jeremy looked over the bullet, he recalled the Latin term and mouthed it idly as he handed it over to Greg, letting him properly put it away as Jeremy set his hands on his hips again. Slowly his eyes shifted back to the door as it opened again and Tank came out, the detective Jeremy had seen around the apartments from time to time but never really spoken to. Returning the nod, he couldn't help but smirk at the nickname he was given, taking the moment to wipe his hands off of any grime which had gotten on them as he let the detectives continue about their work.

He wasn't particularly cut out for this whole investigation thing, so for the most part he planned to leave them to it and interfere as little as possible. He hoped to find out what he could, but at that point his focus was on his plans for the next day. He thought through them again. He needed to go see Gerard's daughter, he knew where to find her, and he'd known since he'd been in prison, even before the murder, it'd been a while since he'd last seen her but, he needed to know what was going on and she was his best bet. He idly wondered if her existence had even occurred to most of the other tenets, but he doubted it, Gerard had barely even spoken to him about his daughter before Jeremy coaxed it out of him.

As he was lost in his thought, he noticed that Greg had moved further over to the edge of the building. Heading over, he glanced down to the footprint which the detective seemed to be examining before peering down to the other building. It seemed to come together as the detective hinted it to, whoever had been up there could have viably made the jump, he probably could have, it wasn't the most elegant escape but, it was a decent enough one if things hadn't exactly gone to plan...

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Lucas sighed as he leaned against the railing in the arrivals terminal, staring at the doorway which led off to customs and security, where Risa had been for some time. That was sure to make her even more irritated than Lucas predicted she already would be. The flight had already been delayed, and a long day made even longer as a result. It hadn't been too bad for Lucas, he'd gotten some extra marking done and finished moving in the majority of their stuff into their apartment, the fact it was later did mean that they were missing the block party - though - Lucas was currently oblivious to the state it was in. The radio in the terminal wasn't playing the news or anything of the sort, rather it played a rather fitting melody.

Risa stood there in customs drumming her fingers against her arms as they sat crossed over her chest. She had been stuck there for well over an hour and her flight had already been delayed back in Atlanta on the trip from Geneva. The dark haired beauty was at the end of her rope and if it wasn't for her nearly obsessive infatuation with her hair she would have pulled it out by now. All she wanted to do was crawl into a hot bath full of bubbles and pull Lucas in with her. As the fuzzy voice of someone at one of the desks chimed in saying that it would be another thirty minutes before they could start processing people once again she let out a slew of curses in her native tongue quietly at first but ended up barking out the last of them. "Vittujen kevät ja kyrpien takatalvi!"

Lucas had been in Justice since the start of the school year, he couldn't have come in later for the job he'd intended to secure, and that meant it had actually been some time since he had seen Risa. In fact, Lucas was pretty sure it may have been the longest they'd been apart for quite some time, though usually, they never were apart for very long. Bringing his coffee to his lips, he took a long sip, letting out a sigh as the hot liquid ran down his throat, he'd just gotten another, and he held another in his free hand, for Risa, when she finally came through. Hopefully, it would still be hot by then. If it weren't, it'd just be more fury to what he expected was already a raging bull.

"Finally..." she muttered as she pulled the single ear bud out of her left ear as the line started moving. Picking up her purse and slinging it over her shoulder, palming her passport and credentials in her hand as she approached the desk. It was no time for her to be a hothead like she could be. Plastering on a smile that looked genuine, honed from years of working with boneheads at the U.N. she laid her papers on the desk for the Customs Inspector to well, inspect. "Good evening, hope you are doing well today," she said in a chirpy voice. The woman behind the counter perking a brow at her as she looked up from the passport.

"Um, could be better," she said as she looked at the line behind Risa.

"Oh I am sure, but hopefully you'll be off shift soon and can relax," Risa said in a sweet voice as she stood there.

"Five more hours of hell to go," the woman grumbled and stopped for a moment as she looked at the passport, then the computer screen and back over towards Risa.

"Well don't let it get you down. It will fly by I am sure and you are doing a wonderful job. I don't know how you do it, must take a special type of person with an amazing amount of patience to put up with all of this. I mean you have to deal with all these people, always upset, never happy to see you, and yet you keep trucking. How do you Americans say? Kudos?" she said reaching out and resting her hand over the womans, giving her a soft reassuring pat. the woman took a breath and smiled gratefully before stamping Risa's passport and handing it back over to her.

"Enjoy your time here in Justice." Risa squealed in delight before thanking the woman profusely and heading passed the gate and into the main terminal.

"Runkkari," she said under her breath as a smirk crawled across her lips. Now time to find Lucas in the middle of all the madness.

Lucas chuckled at the thought, he shouldn't have - but Lucas found something adorable about Risa's frustrated or irritated self, it was one of the reasons he annoyed her all the time. The way they went back and forth, parrying witty comments with snide remarks like it was masterful (s)wordplay, he'd missed it. He'd missed her. She missed him and the look on her face said it all as her icy blue eyes finally fell on him, standing there holding two cups of coffee. The smirk she had been wearing melted away into a bright smile as she rushed over to him, her heels clicking against the tiled floor until she basically flung her arms around him as she jumped; her legs locking around his waist. She didn't care if she knocked the coffee out of his hands, she was just overjoyed to see him. Hugging him tightly as she pressed her lips to his, just like one of those scenes from a cheesy romance movie.

Grinning as she ran toward him, Lucas held his arms out to accept the hug, though he hadn't quite expected her to jump up and wrap her legs around him as well as he stumbled back a step or two, chuckling as he just barely managed to keep a grip of the coffee, and lock his own arms back around her. Pressing his lips back against hers, he held it for a few much-needed moments, taking in the fact they were together again, soaking it all in, feeling happy. Slowly, he pulled back from the kiss, keeping his arms around her to give her some support before she'd let her feet touch the ground again. "So I take it the flight was great?" He chuckled, he'd had a few pre-prepared smug remarks for when he first saw her, but he'd already forgotten them all in the brief period of joy, leaving him with that.

"Yeah, wonderful. Perhaps next time we could both be crammed into the same row with a man who doesn't know the meaning of the word shower for 18 hours and our only break is sitting on the floor of the Atlanta terminal waiting for them to get their heads out of their asses. It could be our honeymoon," she said rolling her eyes a bit before biting his bottom lip. Lucas just smirked. "Honeymoon, huh?"

When he did finally put her back down and remove his arms from around her, he handed over her cup of coffee, smiling brightly. "Figured you could probably use one of those, it's nothing fantastic, but I'll make you a better one when we get home." Taking the coffee she sniffed it slightly and made a bit of a face before shrugging and taking a sip. Then she made another face and nodded, dropping the cup in the trash next to them. Like hell she was drinking that crap.

He turned then, shifting his now-free hand down to lace his fingers with her own, he began to make his way out of the terminal and into the parking lot. Risa smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked, adjusting the strap on her bag and glad nearly all her things had been shipped and already delivered before her arrival. She had only kept a few things on her person for the trip. Small of a boon as it was, Lucas had managed to get a park fairly close, and they were at his car within a minute or two, Lucas finally letting go of her hand as he dug out his keys, unlocking the car and climbing in. "Ugh, got to go home and keep marking papers, been such a busy day." That comment was an intentional jab at her own day, he couldn't resist, now that the rush of joy from seeing her again had settled, he was able to get back to his usual 'charm'.

Sitting down into the passenger seat she clicked her seatbelt into place and glanced towards him out of the corner of her eye at his comment. "Back to our regularly scheduled program," she thought to herself before she looked away and dug out her sun glasses from her purse. "I imagine it has been busy for you. All those papers to grade and having to come get me. Must have been one hell of a day with your limited multitasking skills. A nearly Herculean feat," she quipped as she slipped them on and tucked her hair back behind her ears. "You are probably all tuckered out and won't be any use to me this evening."

Starting the drive, Lucas chuckled as he listened to her, neon lights of Justice's twilight lighting their way home along with the beam of the setting sun. "Well, that depends on the 'use' you had in mind." Lucas shrugged with a self-amused and utterly smug grin on his face. "But I just think the fact that I took the time out of my busy schedule to come get you should be acknowledged, rewarded even." Lucas loved to be a bastard, especially with Risa. It'd gotten him this far in life, his 'winning personality', and while it drove some nuts, it was endearing to others. So far, none of his new neighbours had gotten to experience it, and he was curious how they would take to it.

Risa leaned back in her seat, looking at the city lights as they passed and smirked to herself. "Oh you know, the usual way I use you," she said in a sultry voice as she pulled her sunglasses down and looked over the rim of them towards Lucas. "Helping me unpack."

"There's supposed to be a block party tonight, if you want to meet the neighbours - we've already missed the start of it, but it should still be going by the time we get there." He halted his irritation parade for a moment to be helpful. "I haven't spoken to any of them, but some seem... Interesting." He'd spotted a few when he was moving things in earlier in the day, and looked up some details about the others, nothing indepth, but enough.

When they did arrive, however, the party was most certainly not still going, and as had to park a bit away from the building because of the blockade that had cut off the road, he could already see the commotion though. The reporters were past their barricades, crowding around something, and the party seemed to have come to a rather rapid close. "This is... Odd." Lucas put it simply, climbing out of the car and locking it after he and Risa had climbed out, moving toward the party with a look of morbid curiosity.

Stepping over to Lucas Risa pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them back into her purse. Her brows furrowing at the amount of lights of sirens that were going off and the hurried way a lot of people were trying to scramble away from things. Slipping her arm through Lucas's she gave him a slight nudge before they walked through the crowd and passed the barricade; her hand tightening on his arm as they came to their building and she saw the medical examiners staff there with their coats on that had "Coroner" branded on the back. "This can't be good."

Feeling her arm tighten around his own, Lucas spotted the coroner's staff and began to shift his head around, trying to get a decent angle on what was going on with the crowd. "It might be interesting, though..." Lucas commented, as if trying to goad her into taking a look with him as they moved up toward their building and he kept his eyes on the crowd. A few people were moving around, and they did so just long enough for him to get a view of what was there, a woman laying on a crushed table, his eyes shifted upward and from the people he could see on the roof, he assumed she'd fallen. Turning his gaze over to Risa again, Lucas shrugged, as if waiting for her say over whether or not to get involved.

Risa caught a glimpse of the body and her lips thinned. Turning her head she nearly rolled her eyes at Lucas. Of course he wanted to hang out and see what was going on. His curiosity was kicking in it seemed and she usually indulged him in such things. More than once she had snuck him into the U.N. to see a heated debate between nations. He loved seeing things first hand, not getting a report from the news. Today though was not one of those days. She was tired, been on a flight for hours and starving! The smell of food didn't help but she didn't think it would really be a good idea to grab something to eat and flop down on the stairs watching them take a girl off in a body bag.

"Oh don't you dare 007. I want dinner with a view of anything but a corpse. To relax after being by the ten ton blob for 18 hours. Then I nice bubble bath, with my favorite toy," she said, ending it with a coy wink. Taking his hand she laced her fingers through his and began to pull him towards the entrance. "So, met our roommate yet?" Grumbling as she refused to let him indulge his curiosities, Lucas let her take his hand and began to move inside along with her, nodding. "He seems interesting, doesn't have much, but he said he only recently moved in... Interesting taste in decor."

The explanation to his last comment came when the two got to their apartment and opened the door. In the living room was a low coffee table, an old map sprawled out on it which looked like it was from the 1800s, around the apartment on shelves were small statues, pendants, rings, and other random trinkets, all looking authentic. There were more papers all over the place, a combination of old and new, all rather curious. "Like I said, interesting."

Risa stepped in and looked around for a moment before she let go of Lucas's hand and stepped over to the coffee table. Leaning over she held her hair back as she took a closer look at the map. It smelled like dirt and an old book store. Raising a brow she straightened herself and looked back over to her boyfriend. "What the hell, did we move in with Indiana Jones?" she asked quizzically as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. This was certainly going to be interesting. Her thoughts about getting to know their new neighbors tonight was gone however. With everything going on the last thing she wanted was down the road for people to ask her "So, how did you meet this person?" and her response having to be "Oh, while eating potluck and staring at a dead body." Not exactly her idea of a good time.

"Something like that." He chuckled as he watched her. Moving to the window, he peered outside again, getting a good look of the crowd before he sighed, forcing himself to not linger on the sight and avoid getting himself involved, at least, not today. "I'll start on dinner, if you want to unpack our room's at the very end of the hall, it's the one with flowers on the bed." He commented casually before moving to the kitchen, a smirk on his face.

Risa shrugged a bit to herself as she started to look around the room again. Didn't exactly seem like a place she would curl up with a good book to read but since they were going to be living together she figured she would want to talk to their roommate when she saw him and figure out what all of hers and Lucas's could be moved out into the main rooms. She had furniture and such, at least hopefully he wouldn't mind her making the place a tad more comfortable. At Lucas's words about their room she rose a brow.

"Aww, were they meant for me or for all the other women you had to turn down now that I am in town?" she asked playfully as she began to wander down the hall to their room. It was at the back of the apartment and overlooked the back patio some. It wasn't much but it would be good enough for now. Hopefully dead bodies weren't a common thing around these parts, otherwise she was going to start apartment hunting for a new place asap. Seeing the flowers on the bed she smiled, picking them up and taking in their sweet aroma. Lucas may be a cheeky bastard but it was little things like this that made her adore him.

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The shock of one reporter going down like a drunken prom date thanks to Caesar, another kissing asphalt because of Lorna, and a third one stared down because of Alicia was enough to give pause to the media on scene - for a moment. The older man was amazed at the wanton dramalust these people had. Vultures picked over the dead to survive, even provided a service to the ecosystem around them. These people... they did not possess the necessary nobility inherent to carrion birds.

Still, Caesar was pleased to hear an affirmation from the Tech on scene. She looked like she could use the support. "I can't legally let you into the crime scene core, but if you would get the media away from the outer perimeter, that would be wonderful..."

That was all they had to hear, from a legal standpoint. They weren't local cops, and thusly weren't bound by the same rules. At the same time, they had fewer options available to them. Still, they could assist with an ongoing investigation if given permission.

"We can settle the fees once the coroner arrives?" Cecily asked hopefully.

Caesar nodded. "Yeah. Send him our way when he's got a moment." He handed Cecily a business card. It was very neat, very professional, read Machete Security Solutions, Intl. "And let us know if we can be of further assistance to your investigation." The then added, somewhat darkly, "Or to yourself."

While conversing briefly with Cecily, another reporter took a shot at breaching the line. Caesar reached out with a broad, open hand, and thrust it out in front of the line runner's throat. The momentum of his stride carried him forward, adam's apple tapping quite effectively on the edge of Caesar's hand. The elder Mexican grabbed the reporter's collarbone and stepped behind him, transferring momentum into a vicious takedown. He calmly stepped on the poor bastard's neck, and drew his firearm.

In a loud voice, he clearly stated to the not-good-as-vultures present, "If any of you move on this area again, I will be forced to act out of fear for my safety, and the safety of my people." The gruff tone of his voice and surety of the words Caesar had just spoken inferred that he had used this line several times over, and that he was covering his potential actions under a veneer of legality. This was not a dance he had to do in Mexico, but here in California, he had to become quite the legal foxtrotter.

The very surprised reporter still beneath his boot, Caesar looked to Alicia and Lorna. They were performing their jobs admirably. If this was his legacy, he was content. He could not permit himself to smile at that moment, but he really wanted to. He wanted to beam with pride at his girls; both his daughter Alicia and her friend Lorna, a lady he may as well have adopted as his own, anyway. It was a father's pride. Not every man's daughters were this impressive.

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Lyndsay held on to Cam as he hauled himself up, it not taking much effort to hold up his larger form, despite the size difference between the two of them. She waited until he was steadied, but she was reluctant to let him go. He shifted his weight over to the wall and she let her hands drop to her sides, frowning at him. It wasn't like him to shake her off. She reached for him again, but stopped halfway, letting her arms drop once again down to her sides. She was getting better at recognising the signs of his PTSD, and it was better to let him alone.

"Ok...but I'll be up to check on you soon. Stay in the apartment?"

He was already descending the stairs as she finished her sentence, and she waited at the bottom of the stairs to watch him get up the first flight safely. She was getting violent butterflies in her stomach, and none of the emotions running through her mind were settling well with her. She looked back out of the door towards the crowds of people, and contemplated not going back out into the chaos, but soon convinced herself otherwise. She was a strong southern woman, and they thrived in sticky situations.

She slipped back into the crowd quietly, not drawing attention to herself, and began to pack thing back into their relative tupperware tubs. She had a feeling the block party was finished.

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Riley felt JD grabbing onto her hand and smiled slightly as she was helped back up onto her feet she looked out towards the body of Danica and winced slightly at the sight of it all. ”How can the same shit happen to the same place twice?” Riley wiped away some of the blood that was sliding down the side of her head before answering JD. "I have no idea why this happened twice in the same place.." Riley said softly as she watched DJ making his way over toward her, she remembered bumping into him a few times and living in the sub level of the building that she lived in.

Riley didn't object as he escorted her slowly through the crowd where there were some ambulances were and EMTs already there Riley looked up towards DJ and smiled towards him. "Thanks DJ." Riley said softly as an EMT approached her letting the man inspect her injuries. "Well this has turned into a shit storm of a block party.." Riley said as she watched the scene unfold from where she sat. Then some reporters started to turn around and started to swarm her trying to ask her some questions, she tried her best to avoid eye contact with the reporters and tried to block her face from the cameras.

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"Sir, please tell me you didn't actually...disturb...the decedent," Cecily quipped. She bit her lip slightly, memorizing the precise location of where the gun was--though it helped that she had photographs of it. It would be a pain to do all of the painstaking measurements if the coroner moved everything around first.

"Oh please, inconceivable! I simple removed the gun," Wallace quipped as he patted the outside pocket of his jacket. "I have gloves on," he said holding up his hand. Reaching down he repositioned Danica's hand to exactly where it had been. The man was a bumbling fool at times and his methods were unorthodox but he had a way about him to get the job done.

Hopefully, that was the only piece of evidence he would pocket. It would be at least for now as set down his kit next to the body and started rummaging through it. Stopping he glanced out of the corner of his eye and then reached over, picking up Danica's phone and removing the ear buds from around her neck. Slipping them into an evidence bag he pocketed that as well. So much for him not taking anything else from the scene.

"Do you want to start a verbal chain of custody, or do you have the forms with you?" she asked, despite being dying to announce: It's a murder! Let's do the investigation already! We're losing time! But it wasn't her place. It wasn't her job to determine cause of death--she was merely there to analyze the evidence, to help the detectives understand each and every piece of the puzzle.

"Forms, forms... Oh yeah, those things that stack up on me desk. Loads of paper work. Too much time," he said as he leaned over Danica's body and started talking to the corpse. "Give her time, she doesn't listen she only sees. Now, tell ol' Wallace what happened here tonight?" he asked the dead body as he placed his hands gingerly on either side of her head and moved it left to right carefully before laying it back down where it had been. "No exit wound, oh your brain must look like it went through a shredding machine. Don't worry, skull caps are easy to do. They won't even notice come the funeral."

Cecily frowned, wishing to interject. But she couldn't ruin his process. "She's also got very little burn marks, but a lot of gun residue..." Of course, it was her way to attempt to guide him towards realizing the inevitable. She couldn't understand coroners, sometimes. They had started off as a corrupt political pawn, and now, Wallace had her convinced that they were all just insane.

"Did you change your mind deary? Was that it? Or was it something else?" he said, taking in what Cecily said but still speaking to the corpse. His head tilting this way and that as he sat cross legged on the concrete. He was an odd one, his head bipping around like an owl on a branch.

"We've got a private company running security right now, there is another crime scene up at the roof that is...less than ideally secure," Cecily continued, giving the coroner a rundown. Looking up towards the top of the building as she mentioned it and seeing the firefighters moving the truck into position so they could raise the ladder. The rest of the forensics team wandering about taking images as people were getting cleared out.

"Private security?" he pondered out loud to himself as he looked back at the corpse of Danica Graves. "Private means they will do a job, because you know they might actually get paid but we're city folk. We have cops for that, private will just have to settle with being good Samaritans for today," he chuckled with a bit more glee than he really should be right then. Cecily sighed a bit--she'd pay the private security herself, then.

"Tons of eye witnesses of the fall, none located so far of the murder...I mean, crime...itself." She winced a bit at her amateur mistake. Wallace cocked his head to the side at her words and looked over towards Cecily. the look on his face was that humor mixed with flat out disappointment.

"Murder? Oh you young ones, always wanting it to be a murder," he said making a tsk tsk noise with his tongue before waiving her over. "Sure, signs of a fight," he added as he pointed to the bruises on her arms, chest, and face. "Looks like someone even got close enough to wrap their fingers around this pretty little throat." Looking back at Danica's blank eyes he smiled. "Well it is a pretty throat, I am sure it wore a strand of pearls beautifully my little goddess," he chuckled under his breath. "But gun was in her hand, she pulled the trigger."

"Do you want the investigation closed, then?" Cecily asked bluntly, growing more and more tired of the coroners antics. As an avid watcher of comic books and movies, she remembered all too fondly an episode of Sherlock, in which a murderer forced his victims to kill himself. It was still murder--regardless of who ended up pulling the trigger.

Drumming his fingers on his chin as he looked over the corpse and rocked back and forth slightly. His eyes darting up at Cecily before his lips thinned and he chuckled a bit. "Inconceivable! Never close a case until after the autopsy, then still not up to us. The DA will decide," he said before he stood up and dusted himself off. "Bag her guys," he said instructing the rest of the team to go ahead and get the body out of there.

Closing her eyes for a moment to center herself, Cecily took in a breath. "Will you be needing me further, or am I off duty for tonight?"

"Oh yes yes. You can go. Have a good time! Smells delicious!" he said with a wave of his hand as he paced around the men as they started to move Danica's body.

Cecily nodded, pulling off the latex gloves and putting them in her pocket as she left the crime scene. Trying not to roll her eyes any further at the insane antics of the coroner, Cecily headed off to find out where Riley had gone off to.

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Interacting with: Detective Gregory @Lady Amalthea, Jeremy @Pundii

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Tank took a quick moment to appreciate what was occurring below him. Seemed Alicia and Caesar had shit handled down there with the press. It was actually pretty amusing to watch, and he admitted that he was glad to have someone watch Cecily's back. The other two girls were helping too, he saw. Guess they had their uses. With that quick scan below he filed into his memory for later, he turned back to the roof. Two sets of footprints on the ground, he noted. One seemed to be Danica's trademark footprints, and the other was near the same size with more prominent treads, like a SWAT unit? "Interesting..." he said to himself, noticing a bit of blood too.

"Listen I don't give a damn if you are a cop and not spider man, we need a team up here. Well either learn to climb fucking fast or get those hose brains from Station 53 to up the ladder on that damn firetruck to roof and take that route. Oh you hadn't thought of that? And that's why you can't get a promotion you one nutted pond sucking nerf herder," Greg said before hanging up. Tank didn't take Greg for a Star Wars kind of guy. He let his fellow detective do his thing, scanning the footprints Tank had just seen, as well as the blood that seemed to indicate- "Tank. I think we need another crew on the next roof over." Tank flicked his toothpick over the side of the roof. "Well, since you asked nice."

The street savvy detective then gave a small stretch of his arms and legs, before swaying back and forth while squinting, as if deciphering the distance between the buildings. He took a few steps back, and then jerked forward a step as if he was about to sprint. "Kidding." he chuckled. "I'll head on over." He tilted an imaginary hat at Jeremy, and then made his way down to the street below. It was much easier going down, thankfully. To those outside, they'd hear a thump and a grunt, following by Tank walking out of the kicked-in doorway lightly flecked in dust. He shook his head and patted himself down, before pointing at a small group of newly arrived police officers. "You four, with me." he declared in a voice that was both casual, yet held no room for argument. He held up his badge while doing so.

Tank took out his weapon, and opened the door to the ground floor entrance slowly and cautiously. Behind him, he was flanked by 4 other police officers. The room was dark and full of terrors and musty, and within three seconds of the door opening, one flashlight beam from behind him bathed half the room in penetrating light. The seriousness of Tank's face faded away, to a deadpan 'what' look.
"...What are you doing?"
"What?" the officer behind him asked.
"What. are. you. doing?"
"I just..."
"Turn that flashlight off."
"But it's procedur-"
"Fuck procedure, man." Tank snapped, taking the flashlight out of the man's hands. "What if the suspect, possibly a murderer, had been in here?" he asked. "Flashlights help us see, but they announce our arrival as well. Give me a few seconds to give the 'all clear' before I ask for light, do you get it? Peripheral vision saves your life."
"Yes." the officer replied, and Tank tossed him back the flashlight. The next few seconds passed by awkwardly. "...Ok now I need some light."

Their ascent was quick and much less precarious than his climbing up the other building. It all went smoothly, other than one incident where two of the cops bumped into one another and almost fired their weapons. Needless to say that he now had 3 guns by the time he made it to the roof, only to hand the firearms back once they had the light of day to disillusion their fears. He called for a perimeter to be made around the building, and to check all of the rooms more thoroughly. "Yes, you can use flashlights. And keep the safety's on." he sighed, and almost kicked them down the stairs so he could check out the roof by himself. These guys only further added to his belief that society was heading down the shitter, not to mention the fuckin' murder that just occurred. After he took a deep breath, he relaxed his shoulders and looked around. Looks like someone indeed landed upon the roof, having tucked and rolled. Not an amateur, he noted. The spots of blood led to the fire escape, and then faded away around the back end of the building, leading towards an alleyway. The trail went cold after that, but at least he had an idea on what was going on now.

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Roy perked a brow as Tank started stretching out and chuckled slightly. "Well if you want to take a mighty leap, then by all means go for it buttercup," he said stepping aside and motioning for him to go ahead and give it a try. Shaking his head with a slight smirk as his fellow detective said he was kidding. "Wimp," he smirked before turning his attention back to the foot prints as more of the team made its way to the roof thanks to the help of the ladder on the back of the firetruck.

"Oh, now you all show up? You know I could have used that ladder an hour ago," he grumbled as he handed over the shell casing and began to question one of the new arrivals about what they had found down stairs. As he was told the weapon type he perked a brow and then placed his hands on his hips. "Fucking hell," he spat as he kicked the bricks out of frustration. "Are you sure?"

"Yes sir, that's what it looked like," the man in the forensics jacket said.

"And where is it now?" Roy asked taking a step towards the man.

"Um, Wallace has it."

"Of course he does..." he said before waiving the man off and stepping back over towards the ledge next to Jeremy and looking back at the foot print once again. "This day just keeps getting better and better," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the other team got to work on the other roof top. Looking over towards Jeremy his lips thinned. "So, what do you know about this woman?" he asked, wanting to get some more information.

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Lawson stepped back a bit and leaned against the side of the ambulance as Riley got checked out. He figured he should stay close to her in case she needed help up to her apartment and such. Hearing her words he nodded slightly as he looked over to her. "Ain't that the truth. I mean seriously, this is more screwed up than a monkey tryin' to fuck a football," he quipped as he let out a bit of a huff.

Then the media began to swarm Riley and Lawson went into Marine mode, his shoulders rolling back as he quickly stepped in front of them and started ushering them away. "No comment folks, no comment," he said as he held his arms out reached on either side of him and started stepping forward. Towering over most of the folks there it wasn't hard thanks to size to give Riley a little bit of room while the EMT cleaned up her wounds and bandaged her up a bit.

"Okay, you should be fine. If you feel woozy, then head to the ER," the EMT said before packing up and heading over the barricade to see if there was anyone else that needed to be looked at.

Lawson looked over his shoulder towards Riley. "Want some help back to your building?" he asked her, figuring she wanted to get away from the media as quickly as possible.

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Setting the flowers down on the night stand Risa smiled softly as she looked around, it seemed that Lucas had taken care of a lot of the unpacking for her. Another point in his favor. Sitting down on the edge of the bed she slipped off her heels and let them fall to the floor below, rubbing out her arches a bit as her bag slipped from her shoulder and rested in the deep down comforter. The flight had been long and all she wanted to do was flop back and go to sleep, that or take a bath. A bath would be nice, get rid of all of that airport smell. Bath it was.

Rising from the bed she stepped over to the dresser and pulled open the drawers. Things seemed to be set up like they had been in Geneva and Risa, true to form didn't rummage through her own drawers but through Lucas's; finding a pair of boxers and a white cotton T-Shirt that was far too big for her. Smirking to herself she "borrowed" them and headed into the bathroom. Pushing the door so it was mostly closed she set the clothing down on the edge of the sink and began to pin her long hair up into a messy bun before turning on the water. Eying the place her lips thinned a bit, she couldn't find her bubble bath.

Stepping back into their bedroom she looked at the boxes that still needed unpacking and couldn't help but laugh when she spotted a box labeled "I have no fucking clue". Rolling her eyes she opened the box and laughed when her eyes fell on all her hair care products, curling irons, flat irons, bubble baths, bath beads, oils, and more. She knew it was a jab. Lucas used just as much product as she did. Shaking her head she pulled out her rose water scented bubble bath and stepped back into the bathroom. Pouring some into the water she took a deep breath as the water began to lather up in thick rich mounds of white bubbles.

Stripping out of her clothing she carefully stepped into the water, toe first and hissing slightly at the temperature of the water. It was hot but she preferred it that way; just took a little bit to get used to. Slowly she sank into the water and stretched out in the tub as her neck rested on the lip just above the water line. Reaching out with her foot she turned the water off and let out a relaxed sigh. Only thing that could make this better was a glass of wine. Sitting up quickly she rested her sud covered arms over the rim of the tub and yelled out through the apartment.

"Darling, think you could bring me a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?" Even though she was yelling to make sure he heard her, her voice was sweet. Her bottom lip pouting out in reflex, as if to say "p...p...pwease". Granted no one was there to see the pout but it was evident in her voice, the same voice she always got when she wanted something.

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Jeremy remained fairly quiet as he watched the two detectives, more or less lost in his own thoughts as they spoke about getting to the other roof. Jeremy smirked and blew a little air through his nose in a sign of mild amusement to Tank's joke, giving him a nod as he began to move off before looking back down toward the footprints that Roy was now focused on. As more police began to make their way to the roof via the firetruck's ladder, Jeremy stepped back and further out of their way, not wanting to interfere if he could avoid it.

Moving to the ledge he'd climbed down originally, Jeremy peered down onto the party, or what was left of it. The crowd finally seemed to be dispersing a bit with the efforts of the contractors, the police and the coroner's men. He tilted his gaze up slightly, across to their own buildings. He could see the light in his apartment was on, and although he hadn't seen them come home, he guessed his new roommates must have gotten there and decided against involving themselves in the crime scene outside, it probably wasn't a bad idea, to be honest.

He shifted his gaze away again as Roy approached him, giving the detective a nod before looking back down to Danica as Roy spoke up. "Danica?" He asked, as if to confirm the query as he glanced back up to Roy, shrugging. "Not much, to be honest. Like I told you, I only moved in a week or two ago, was going to start getting to know everyone at the party." He shrugged again, he'd done a little research on Danica, but it wasn't much. "She was a reporter or some-such, seemed a little... Stressed?"

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Lucas spent a while perusing the pantry and fridge for ingredients, contemplating what he'd end up making. From the looks of what was available, which was a decent amount, their roommate liked to cook for himself, rather than getting take-out or eating out, something Lucas was quite okay with. He figured he'd make something reasonable, and leave enough for their roommate if he was hungry. It didn't take him particularly long to decide, between the beef and veg in the fridge, as well as the left-over Guinness he had, he settled on a nice Beef Stew, Irish style.

He started by seasoning and marinating everything before he began to cook, mixing in plenty of coconut oil along with the onions, garlic, carrots and celery, the smell of the food beginning to fill the apartment as he worked. If there was one thing Lucas should've prided himself on, it was his culinary skill. He didn't go to the effort of cooking particularly often, but when he did he put quite an effort in indeed, and the result was usually quite a treat, usually just for himself and Risa, and usually only when he'd irritated her and had to apologize, or some other equally special occasion.

Adding some wine, guinness, seasoning and bay leaves, Luke tossed in some mushrooms and began to lit it boil, popping the lid on and taking the half-empty can of guinness he'd been using to cook with over to his desk. Settling down by the window, he'd take a moment to peer out again at the scene, things were certainly more active, plenty more police officers and officials on the scene, and Risa wasn't letting him get involved. Shaking his head, he closed the blinds and opened up his laptop, taking a sip of his beer as he leaned forward, getting ready to grade some papers.

Then she called out, of course, the second he'd settled down to do something productive, he had to lower himself to getting up and bringing some wine to his girlfriend in the bathtub. Life was hard. "Just a moment!" He called out as he set down his beer by his laptop, moving to stand as he moved into the kitchen again, wandering around in search of the desired wine. It didn't take him long, and he began to pour a glass. Once he had it, he wandered down the hall into their room, and into the connecting bathroom. Glancing down at her, he smirked somewhat and held the glass out toward her. "Only you can enjoy a glass of wine in the bath when a crime scene's outside." He'd chuckle, before glancing over to the sink.

"Those are mine, aren't they?" He asked, pointing toward his shirt and boxers sitting by the sink before he tilted his gaze back down to her. "Why did I even bother moving in your clothes, again?" He asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

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Lana had been standing on her own, just watching the things going on around her. She still had a cup of vodka in her hand that she hadn't drank but not because she didn't want to, but because she was too busy taking in everything around her. Her attention was only drawn away when she suddenly felt a hand gripping onto her arm, the movement jolting her cup and spilling some vodka over her hand. Looking to her side she saw JD holding onto her. Her eyebrows rose in surprise (not that anyone would see it through her bangs) and she held onto JD's hand with her free one and gave it a light squeeze as she spoke to her. "Hey, JD, you okay? C'mon lets get you a seat..."

Guiding JD to somewhere away from the scene of the body, Lana let her get herself settled down before she ran off and grabbed a bottle of water that had been sitting in a cooler. She opened the top and handed it to JD. "Here you go, you'll need some fluids after a shock. Do you need me to get someone for you? EMT, cop, someone to give you a big man hug? I'm sure our Southern smoker won't mind wrapping his arms around you to make you feel better..." Maybe the joke would help to unwind whatever was bothering JD, maybe it wouldn't. It was better to try and fail than to never try at all in Lana's mind. She grabbed a nearby chair and shifted it so that she could sit beside JD and keep an eye on her. It looked less suspicious than standing not reacting to the death that had just happened right in front of her.

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As Lorna watched the coroner coming over to the scene she crinkled her nose at him a little in disgust. She wasn't sure what it was but he just rubbed her the wrong way and she shuddered at the thought of him getting his hands on Danica's body later to carry out the autopsy. He seemed a bit lecherous if she was being honest. Bringing herself back to work mode, Lorna noticed that the gun that Danica had used was odd. Grabbing Alicia and Caesar before they went into work mode, Lorna nodded to the gun and talked in a hushed voice to her adoptive family. "That gun is old, real fuckin' old. Out of circuit and Austrian kind of old. The fuckin' hell does a girl like her have with a gun like that? Reckon there's somethin' fishy goin' on. We'll talk later though, get our insights together."

Nodding to them both, Alicia began to deal with a reporter from Channel 6. Amy... something or other from what Lorna could recall. She was never good with full names unless they were unique, this woman just screamed mediocrity above its station and Lorna had no time for shit like that. She saw Alicia drawing her gun and Lorna felt the need to intervene before Alicia put a bullet in someone. Then she saw the woman spitting at Alicia's feet and Lorna squared her shoulders off as she moved forward and placed a hand on Amy's shoulder. "Ma'am spitting at security personal can be misconstrued as aggressive behaviour. If you could kindly take a step back over the barricade and out of the crime scene I'd be much obliged and can overlook the aggression towards my colleague."

"Get out of my fucking way. I have a story to deliver!" The lights on the camera blinked red and Lorna rolled her neck, cracking it before cracking her knuckles. She stood behind Amy Adams as she began to talk into the camera. Lorna blocked the view to the crime scene and narrowed her eyes as Amy began to speak into the lens. "I am here at Boston Heights where history repeats itse--- HEY!" Lorna had grabbed Amy from behind and held her in an arm lock that was not the most flattering of kinds. Her face was pressed into her neckline and went red in anger and embarrassment as her face was broadcasted live on air like that. Lorna stepped forward, forcing Amy Adams closer to the lens.

"LET ME GO YOU GOD DAMN CRAZY BITCH!"

"You're on the air ma'am, do you really think that language is appropriate? Think of the children."

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T MAN HANDLING ME!"

"Well maybe if you weren't interfering in a crime scene I wouldn't have to. Switch that camera off!" She peeked around and growled at the camera man who quickly switched it off and lifted it off of his shoulder while Amy Adams squirmed in Lorna's grip. Moving her closer to the barricade limits, Lorna practically threw her over the fence and she watched her tumble down onto the ground, her hands clambering to get herself back on her feet. Amy brushed herself off and huffed at Lorna in indignation and stayed behind the barricade with her camera man who did not require the man handling approach.

Satisfied with her efforts, Lorna moved back into the scene and made sure the barricades and perimeters were all set in place with people guarding any entrance points by anyone that was willing to help. She ensured people were prepared and content to deal with what they had to do. She then spotted a nearby ambulance being swarmed by media. She thought she heard a familiar voice coming from that direction and she walked over to Alicia before heading that way. "I've checked the perimeter, set up guards where possible with willing volunteers. Gonna check out what the fuck is happening at that EMT. Media are swarming like loc-ass-ts. Be back once I disperse them."

As she made her way over she heard a voice that was definitely familiar. Lawson was there and had dispersed the worst of the media from the EMT area. Grinning to herself, Lorna still made her way over and began to order the media away, showing them to the barricades and scowling at those that didn't appear to be listening. When she got to the van, she saw Riley being cleaned up and she raised an eyebrow. That was why it was swarmed, a celebrity casualty at a murder hot spot 6 months on from a previous murder. Sounds about right. Walking over, Lorna nodded to Riley. "Doin' okay? Hope you weren't too hurt. I've told the news crews to keep the fuck away before I decide to make them eat asphalt."

Glancing over to Lawson, Lorna gave him a quick wink and then scowled as she heard the tell tale clicking of camera shutters. "Excuse me a sec." Lorna marched straight over to the paparazzo that was the source and placed a hand on her gun.

"Excuse me, gonna have to ask you to put that camera away as this is an ongoing crime scene investigation. The barrier is in that direction." She pointed towards the area that was a good five metres back the way from where the photographer was currently positioned.

"Nah, I'm good here. Getting the money shots!"

"I am going to have to ask you again to move away, sir." Lorna stepped in his shot causing him to groan and remove the camera from his face.

"No. Now move the hell out of the way! You're blocking my shots." He tried to shoot around Lorna but she just moved with his movements.

"Final warning. Step back to the other barrier or I will be forced to act."

"I fucking said shift! Or does your stupid fucking meat head not hear sounds right after all those gun shots fired near your head?

Her jaw tensed and Lorna rolled her eyes before grabbing the camera as the man raised it back to his face. She pushed the camera back enough to hurt his eye but not badly damage it before yanking it from the support lanyard that held it around his neck. The camera plunged to the ground and glass and plastic alike shattered as it hit the concrete paving. The photographer went red in the face and began to shout and scream at Lorna, profanities spouting as she stood there and took it. She waited and waited, taking every word that came out of his mouth and as soon as his fist balled up and aimed for her face she was ready.

Lorna grabbed his fist and twisted his arm downwards and spun around as she pulled him forward, over the barricade where he landed face first onto the ground. Lorna swiftly turned herself around and held his arm behind his back before she yanked him back up onto his feet where she forcefully guided him to the main barrier where she released him and handed him a card with her personal details on it. "Bill me for the camera, dipstick." She then turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the photographer gawking as she massaged his shoulder and wrist, his face slowly reddening where the camera had hit. She made her way back to the EMT and smiled to Riley and Lawson. "Sorry, duty calls. I'll check in on you later. Lawson, thanks for chasin' most of the media away. I better get back to work."

Heading back to her post, Lorna growled and made half steps towards some reporters and camera crew that got a little too ballsy with the barrier limits as she passed them. She loved her job sometimes.

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