Elise looked up as the officer came in. Demanding attention immediately; perhaps he thought this would help with the interrogation. Mostly as a point of pride, Elise did her best to remain unaffected by this and any other attempt at intimidation that might take place. While she knew that complying was the fastest way to get this over with, her immediate and, right now, more powerful instinct was to spite and rail against any attempt to intimidate or control her. And though that might not be immediately useful to her, it was a core element of her nature, and no amount of logic could outmatch that.

Elise watched the officer for just a moment too long, making sure he detected at least a hint of violence in her eyes, before she turned and walked into interrogation room 3-A. She pulled her chair out and sat down, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles with a relaxed grin as she watched her interrogator, unblinking.

Elise waited several seconds before moving again.

Still making sure not to break eye contact, Elise then leaned forward, pulling her chair in, and placed her hands on the table (as she had been told), interlacing her fingers slowly and calmly, only leaving a slight but visible tenseness in her hands, which with her eyes furthered the impression of mental instability that she gave off.

Then, she simply said "Shall we?"

Rebecca sat bolt upright in her chair when the detective mentioned that they'd found the killer, but he'd been murdered. Well, for me, that's only a minor annoyance. Contrary to what those pirate movies say, dead men do tell tales- you just have to know how to make them talk. Of course, Detective Greenfield or somebody else living will have to contribute the blood if they want the spell to work at its best, but it's only a drop or two. She resolved to be the next one into the interrogation room- she could get the answers better than the cops could at this point.

Scott stood outside the Chief's office for a while, waiting to be let in. He hoped the Chief knew something, anything, as he was at a dead end. There were the interviews, but Scott wasn't very confident that they would be of any use. Down the hall, he could hear shouting coming from the Chief's office, and he cringed. It sounded like he wasn't any more happy about the current situation than he was. Finally, though, the secretary told him that he could go in, so he did just that.

Walking into the office, he sat down at the table, giving the Chief a nod. His feelings towards the man were a bit mixed. While he respected the work he did, he felt like the man didn't trust him with serious cases. To Scott, it felt like he was only getting these serious murder cases simply because they didn't have any of the older detectives available to do it. Brushing those thoughts aside, he began to speak. "Well, my suspect is dead, and someone ruined all the footage, so we have no idea who did it." He paused for a moment to let it sink in. "Now, I don't know about you, but I don't feel too confident that these interviews are going to get us anything. We might get lucky, but i'm not counting on it." He paused again, this time making sure to look the Chief in the eyes. "Now, the thing is, I don't know how they got away with it. With killing the guy. You can't just walk into a police station and kill someone, right? Right? Someone's ought to notice something like that, yeah?"

"So, tell me...do you know who killed my suspect?"

Darnies stared blankly at the interrogator across from him, arms crossed and legs stretched out; the picture of calm. And disrespectful.

The interrogator's eye twitched irratably, but otherwise gave no indication on his feelings towards the teen. He flipped through a large file silently before pushing it aside and pulling out a notebook not unlike the one Detective Greenfield had had at the bar last night.

"So, Mr. Magula-"

"Magula," Darnies corrected instantly, smirking as he saw the man's eye twitch again.

"Pardon?"

"It's Mag-yoo-luh, not Muh-goo-luh. S'bad enough people mess up the first name all the time, man," he answered, resisting the urge to tilt back in his chair. Sure, he was upset with Harry, but he wasn't going to do anything that would give away that he knew who had killed the Hunter, so defaulting to laid back and slightly obnoxious was the only other choice.

"...Right. You seem rather calm considering the position you're in," the man observed, lacing his fingers together on the table. "Why is that?"

"Well, I already had my little freak out over being shot at last night, and that kinda shit's exhaustin', y'know? And besides, I didn't kill the guy, so why should I be nervous?" He countered.

"Well, Mr. Magula-" Darnies' smirk sharpened at the stress the interrogator put on his correctly pronounced last name. "It seems that while you have a habit of getting in fights, and even getting reported for them, you've never been properly arrested or charged for any of it. That makes me think that there could be someone in authority willing to...look the other way for you," he hedged, leaning forward. "Willing enough to let you slip into an interrogation room holding a man who tried to kill you, perhaps?"

Darnies refrained from rolling his eyes, but only just barely. "Do you really think that if I had someone in my pocket that they'd even let that shit be on record? It would seem too incriminating in situations just like this," he countered, never changing in his position. If you actually read those reports, you'd see that all the accusers were drunks that later recanted their statements and admitted that they started the fights. 'Sides, a few alley brawls are a long ways away from murder." Not that he'd never killed anyone before, but the officer certainly didn't need to know that. "Can we just get on with the stereotypical questions so I can get outta here?"

The officer glared at him in distrust, but acquiesced. "Where were you between the hours of five and ten this morning?"

"Sleeping in my apartment first, then walking here with Chasa, after that I was in full view of your desk seargant while I waited to make a statement and answer questions about last night."

"Can anyone confirm the first part of your statement?"

"Chasa."

The other man shot him a look. "Ms. Chaim is also under investigation for this, is there anyone else who can confirm it?" Darnies didn't bother hiding his eyeroll this time.

"Well gee, officer, we do live in an apartment building with plenty of nosy neighbors to look out for the comings and goings of other residents, maybe ask one a them?" He replied sarcastically, watching as the man's pen dug harshly into the page of his notebook as he tried not to react to the teen's attitude.

Considering that neither Darnies nor Chasa had been murdered in their own homes and that it would be to confirm their alibi, he was sure both his and Chasa's neighbors would be more than happy to talk about how they'd been in his apartment together in the time between the bar and when they headed to the station. Goddamned gossips.
-
"Hello, Ms. Chaim, I just have a few questions for you today, and then hopefully you can be on your way," the officer that was serving as her interrogator began, and Chase gave the older man a kind smile.

"Of course, officer. I want to clear everything up just as much as you do," she answered honestly, keeping her hands folded in her lap and hunching down a bit, trying to make her size appear less intimidating just like always. He gave a small nod and flipped through a few papers he'd had in front of him before starting.

"Where were you today between the hours of five and ten am, Ms. Chaim?"

"Well, I was sleeping with Darnies in his apartment until about nine. We left around nine thirty to walk here and after that we were just waiting in the station to be...questioned..." she trailed off, confused by the man's disapproving stare.

"You're twenty six, correct?" Chasa blinked at the question, but nodded anyways. "What were you doing sleeping in a nineteen year old's apartment?"

She bristled at the man's accusing tone, shoulders drawn back in offense. "I don't think I appreciate your insinuation, officer, Darnies is a neighbor and a friend and in case the incident that began all this was lost on you, we'd been shot at not twelve hours ago and were understandably shaken. Not to mention he had been hurt in a fight earlier that night and someone needed to get all the glass out of his arm and tend to his wounds," she answered, usually kind tone now cold as ice. "I'm not sure how you take care of your friends after a traumatic event, but if you think anything untowards was going on then that's on you. Don't you dare try and paint me as someone trying to take advantage of him. And even if anything were happening between us, we are both legal adults, and it would still be no business of yours."

The room was quiet as the man looked considerably chastised. The now red faced man cleared his throat nervously before continuing, not meeting her eye.

"Well, can anyone confirm..."
-
Fifteen minutes later had Darnies and Chasa together again and walking out of the station, Darnies giving Chasa's stiff form a concerned look as they turned the corner and headed back to their apartment building. Chasa would be staying there while Darnies made his way out to the Stein Estate to have words with Harry.

"You alright?" He asked, cane tapping the concrete between them with each step.

"Fine," she murmured, not meeting his eyes. "I wonder if the others are ok."

Narrowing his eyes at the obvious change in topic, he decided to let it go. For now, at least; something was obviously bothering his friend but if she was pushing passed it then it must not be as important as the subject at hand.

"Well, they didn't kill the guy so they should be fine. We should find them later and talk. Rebecca won't be able to open Paradise again until the police clear out, and those other two seem a little too inclined to get involved in things. I think it would do us good to actually try and talk shit out, have a plan in case something like this happens again."

"That's a good idea. I don't know how to get in contact with Xayah and Rakan, but I can call Rebecca and tell her you want to meet whenever you get back from Harry's," she agreed, already trying to figure out a plan. Darnies gave her a winning smile.

"I'll call you when I'm headed back so you can give her a timeframe. Now come on, we're still a few minutes away from home."