New York City, New York

Lorenzo Cifaretto

The citizens of the big apple were very frightened. This was understandable with a killer on the loose. A killer that had not been caught in some time was periodically murdering its population. Many are investigating to find the culprit, some wanting revenge and others wanting justice. Some don’t even know what is going on, mostly concerned about what kind of shoes they want to wear.

Lorenzo woke up to his alarm going off followed by a rather enthusiastic voice speaking on the radio. Blathering about the weather, and something about someone seeing a small creature on people’s backs. The tall teenager got out of his bed performing all of his morning rituals. He and his father lived above his father’s antique store. So by the time he wakes up his father is already preparing to open the store. Walking down the stairs after getting dressed, and eating a quick breakfast.

“I’m going to go out and practice with my friends, will you be okay running the shop alone?” He asked watching his father fiddle with some old relics.

“Im-a going to be okay, just do not get into any-a trouble.” His father smiled but looked quite worried. It was no secret that Lorenzo had gotten into trouble by snooping around. Lorenzo had been investigating his mother’s murder a couple of years ago. This has caused Lorenzo to be escorted by the police back to his father.

“I’m not gonna get into trouble pops. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be okay.” Lorenzo walked over toward his father, towering over his father. Placing a hand on his shoulder, “I won’t get into any trouble with the cops.”

“That doesn’t sound very reassuring. Lorenzo promised me you wouldn’t go to jail, or get hurt. My heart cannot take losing another loved one.” His father suddenly hugged Lorenzo, who reciprocated by hugging his father back.

“I won’t I promise.” After their embrace, Lorenzo quickly grabbed his backpack upstairs before rushing out of the door. “I love you, Dad.” He said before rushing out of the door before his father could say the same thing. From what clues he had found in the last couple of months, he was heading towards a bookstore his mother visited before her death. He hoped that he would be able to find a breakthrough in his mother’s death.

Getting on his motorcycle and heading off toward the bookstore.

The computer screen's glare was the first thing to beam into her eyes, as daybreak encroached. Or... No, rather...

Blearily, Kasumi dragged her face up from the keyboard, grimacing at the indents of the keys she could feel against her skin even without looking. Blinking several times, she fumbled a bit before scrubbing the morning gunk out of her eyes and frowning at the window. The blinds, as usual for any window in her home, were closed and tilted up to maximize the amount of light they could prevent entering the domicile.

What... time was it?

12:34 pm glared out from the corner of her monitor.

Ah. She'd overworked last night. With the blinds closed and her head facing away from the window the way she'd nodded off, she'd been plenty exhausted enough to sleep through the siren's call of the sun. Honestly, she wasn't sure when the last time she'd crashed like this was, never mind the last time she'd woken up at her desk. Maybe she was growing lazy about her internal sense of time? Jen should have let herself in with the hidden spare house key and woken her up by now, as was her-

Her brows furrowed, lip curling in distaste at the mess of random keystrokes filling up the open document on her screen. Clearly, the result of a night of basically rolling her face across the keys. Snorting, she highlighted the mass of nonsense, scrolling up until she felt she had it all and deleted it. Shaking her head, she looked at what she'd been working on last night, and-

Oh.

Right, she was... gathering public police reports, scrutinizing masses of witness statements. All of it. All these efforts...

Useless.

Expression darkening, Kasumi saved the document's progress as it was and closed it, making a quick run through of her computer's processes to double check she hadn't managed to do anything stupid with unconscious button mashing. Seeing none, she shoved her chair back and stood, panning her gaze across a room -a house honestly- that felt emptier somehow. Jaw clenching, her nostrils flared, as she shook her head and marched to the closet to grab a change of clothes.

---

Bathed and spruced up, Kasumi sat at the dining room table, shoving a large "brunch" down her throat. Admittedly, she was barely tasting the food, her gaze focused on the television screen and the news channel. As usual, the host blathering on about the only thing they seemed to want to natter about these days in their prime time hours: "The Killer". They had a couple titles that had been bandied about, among which the most popular seemed to be "The Cobbler", "The Foot Fetish Killer", and "The Night Prowler". Any other time before, Kasumi would have scoffed, brushed off Jen's needling and tuned the nonsense out, perhaps even switched to another channel... assuming all she would find elsewhere wasn't more of the same. It wasn't her problem. Someone else would handle it. Probably. Eventually. Only...

For a moment, she almost imagined her soup tasted like blood and then realized she'd bit her lip hard enough to break skin. Her hand was shaking, as she slowly and deliberately forced herself to put down her spoon before she accidentally bent or crushed it. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a slow, shaky inhale through her nose, held her breath and exhaled long and low. She let the news wash over her, just meaningless noise, as she steadied her pounding pulse in her ears, quieting the bubbling fury that made her want to clench her jaw so hard her teeth would break. She wanted to break something. She wanted to scream, but she didn't.

That would be so very useless.

Opening her eyes, she brushed a finger, briefly encased in spectral gold, across her lip and impassively weathered the itching sting of her lip closing up, as the broken flesh was sealed. Licking her lips did away with the remainder of the bloody residue, as she continued her meal shortly thereafter without further incident. The television had been muted but left running, her eyes occasionally flickering to the subtitles.

In some ways, the return of silence felt even more damning, as she finished her food, washed the dishes and filled the dishwasher a little more. It wasn't quite full yet, so she'd wait to run it till perhaps later tonight.

Closing the dishwasher, she spared the television another glance and then stepped over to the table to grab the remote and unmute it again. They were talking about the latest victims. As usual with the killer's MO, it seemed to be more women in their mid to early 20's, again with a variety of races and builds, and again... with each victim rather distinctly missing their feet. Other than that, no patterns seemed to stand out, or if there were any further patterns, the police weren't letting that information free to the public. The newscaster was talking about the latest victim now, about where they had been found, the estimated time of death, so-claimed witnesses that had seen her shortly before the attack and more importantly... who presumably had that corpse right now, the police.

With a ping, a quarter she had been fiddling with flew into the air and morphed, sprouting antenna, legs and paper-thin wings, and long before it had hit the ground, a butterfly was currently making itself well at home, flittering about the cozy house. Striding from the kitchen, Kasumi turned off the television and placed the remote next to it, as she began making her preparations for departure.

Buttons were double and triple checked on her button-up white shirt. Collar was straightened and black tie was secured, immaculately pressed as always. Smart grey slacks, secured by a belt, accompanied shiny black shoes, as she looked herself over in the full-length mirror of her room. The butterfly occasionally flittering around her head, as she fixed her pink hair into a tight braid. Again, there was that minor spurt of annoyance at what had become her natural hue since the day she awakened to her potential, but it was brushed off as usual. It wasn't like she ultimately hated the color, just the fact that she'd had no control over it, and she really didn't feel like wasting her time dyeing it, especially since her roots would still grow out rather noticeably pink.

Instead, she'd long since decided she would own it. Ridiculous as it was, somehow, she felt like she made it work...

Sitting down at her desk, she went through the task of manually loading several handgun magazines and double-checking the integrity of the weapon they were made for. 17 rounds apiece. Three magazines. One loaded, no rounds chambered, safety on. Securing her concealed-carry holster firmly beneath her left arm, she tucked the weapon into its home and the ammunition with it. Opening her primary closet, she retrieved her current favorite long-coat, a warm black affair with deep pockets. Slipping it over her shoulders, she stepped back in front of the mirror and fiddled with the lapels until she was satisfied with their professionalism, letting a small empty smile reach her face.

Ready as I'll ever be.

The butterfly followed her, as she made her final checks. Watch? Check. Phone? Check. Gloves? Check. Various keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Pepper spray? Check. Lighter... She fiddled with the object in her pocket with a fond caress. Check. With how limited her sources of reliable information were, unfortunately, she could only make so many preparations and assumptions at this stage. However...

She felt the feather-light touch of the butterfly alighting on her fingertip, smiling coldly, as she took back what she'd given it, reverting the creature into an inert quarter once more. Flipping the coin with a ping, she caught it and slipped it into her pocket, as she stepped outside and locked the door of her single-story home.

The beginnings of a plan were forming.

For conventional law enforcement, the killer had left no clues, no real leads or chinks in their armor. Such was more than evidenced by how long they had managed to operate freely in this city. Though, she would grant, perhaps, that such wasn't so unusual, even with how high profile the murderer had become. In all of millions of people, it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. However... she was not conventional by any means, and they had made but one fatal mistake.

She forewent her car, as discretion would be of fair importance here. Only a fool underestimated the might of modern technology's ability to track people the law wanted found, and the fewer trails she left, the better. One hand in a coat pocket, Kasumi set off at a brisk stride towards the nearest bus station, consulting her phone's GPS map system. And upon the screen, her destination was made clear, the place that just about any murder victim's corpse was most liable to be stored, especially in a sensitive case such as this:

The New York State Police Forensic Investigation Center.

The killer may not have left any leads...

But they'd left all she needed to make one.

I could get used to this view...

Alison sipped from her mug as she stared out the hotel window upon the streets below. The people looked so small from so high above, like little ants rushing to their next destination without any deeper thought. No plans beyond the immediate future, no regard of the past, tiny cogs in an ever-spinning machine doing their part. She took another sip as her gaze turned towards the rest of her executive suite. At first she felt a bit guilty for booking this room but it was a necessary part of her plan. Besides: it wasn't so bad staying at the most expensive room of the W Times Square. The luxurious suite was as colorful as it was large, hardly touched in the past two days with a few obvious exceptions.

Firstly, and the most eye-catching, was the large wooden crate leaned against one of the walls. It had clearly been pried open before but was somewhat sealed up again, just enough to keep whatever contents within from falling out should it accidentally be moved. Secondly, and also fittingly, were two black duffel bags lying on the ground next to the master bed. They both appeared to be stuffed full, though one seemed at least slightly less full. Lastly there was an open laptop situated on the glass table by the kitchen area, with a neat stack of papers to its side. These additions to the room were necessary for Alison's "base of operations". Another sip of the coffee and her gaze returned to the street below. Today's the day.

Raven hair twirled behind her as she turned from the glass and made her way across the room to the crate. With a passing touch, barely a caress of her finger, the wooden crate instantly vanished without a trace. Its peculiar location made it extremely unlikely to be accidentally bumped into while invisible on the off-chance that Alison's request to have no room service while she was out was ignored. That crate cannot be found under any circumstances, after all, so the best place to hide it was in plain sight. Once it was hidden she walked over to the kitchen's sink, setting the mug inside and leaving it without so much as a quick rinse. Once next to the bed she crouched down and opened the duffel bag that appeared the least full, exposing the bands of cash inside. Each one of composed of crisp, clean $100 bills and notarized by the paper band. It's crazy every time I think about it, she briefly thought to herself before grabbing two stacks out. She looked them over one last time before they turned invisible, upon which she stashed them in the hidden waistband pocket of her pants. After zipping the bag up she placed her other hand on the second bag, turning both invisible before shoving them under the bed.

As she left the room, hanging a "do not disturb" sign on the handle, she patted her right hand on the back of her waist. Something invisible was tucked in there, unseen but not unfelt by her hand. With that final item on her list checked she began to walk down the extravagant hallway, immediately passing a concierge leaving a neighboring suite. "Good morning, Miss Stanley," he greeted, topped off with a polite nod. Alison feigned a smile and waved, returning the polite gesture, but she didn't slow her walk in the least. After spending the last two days working on her preparations it was finally time to get to work.

---

It was a rather large yet unassuming building, as Alison would describe most in New York City, but it was where she needed to start. Uniformed and off-duty police were going to and fro about the entrance of the Forensic Investigation Center making an easy way in undetected. But there was a better way. The invisible woman hiked around the building to its parking lot, filled with NYPD vans and a cruiser or two. There were two doors here: one for foot traffic and one serving as a loading dock for moving bodies from vans into the building and vice-versa. No sooner than Alison approached the foot traffic door did it click and open. A single officer stepped outside, keys in hand and immediately heading toward one of the cruisers. He wouldn't notice that the weighted door behind him took but a second longer to close than usual.

Once inside things became a bit more complicated but Alison had nothing but time. She wasn't able to get a layout of the building and wasn't able to ask any passerby for directions so she had already anticipated she would be here a while. Her first task was to find the body of the most recent victim, though if any older bodies were still in the building they would do as well. Not like there was long periods of time between killings anyways so any victims here should still be relatively fresh. Alison walked slowly and methodically, avoiding contact with not only any passing workers or officers but also with any doors. Whenever she encountered a closed door she would bide her time and wait patiently for someone to come by and open it, removing the risk of accidentally opening a door in view of someone she couldn't see on the other side.

This process of navigating turned what would be a two minute walk into a thirty minute journey by the time she entered the morgue. She knew there was a chance that the body would in storage right now since there was no way for her to predict when the autopsy would occur but luck was on her side. The body was lying on a table with two men standing above it; a doctor and an assistant, or perhaps a trainee. They hadn't begun to cut into it yet and were going over the information on the clipboard in the assistant's hands as they prepared to start. The timing couldn't be any more perfect for Alison, as she would get to witness the autopsy firsthand and once they were done she would (probably) have an opportunity to investigate herself. As her gaze turned to the victim's face she felt a brief tug at her heartstrings. It was just a girl, barely an adult. But the sympathy was quickly suppressed as Alison steeled herself and returned to business-mode. Reveal your secrets to me, Night Prowler.

---

---

Applause! A thunderous cheer, a pulsing excitement for the next act, a mass of playgoers all overjoyed by his performance—West McAllister could remember it so clearly. Watching from the sidelines, smiling from ear to ear, on one of the biggest stages in the world… And for a moment, he wants to live only in this part of the memory. The happy part. The part after just isn’t right. Everything had been going so right, why did it turn out wrong?

The leads… two incredible actors, and people he’d grown to consider his friends… murdered. During an intermission, when they were meant to be getting dressed, but had disappeared. The final acts of the play were about to begin, and they were nowhere in sight after that glorious performance. Instead, they were found dead. Feet chopped off, it was sick, it was all so sick—

“West? Hello? Lights?”

West snapped back into the present moment. He was standing on the side of the rehearsal stage as his new director stared at him with a death glare. The actors onstage all looked at him with traces of concern.

“Oh, right—sorry! I’m on it!” West said cheerily, and even in his mistake, all worries about the past slipped quickly behind a smile. He got to work, quickly coordinating with lighting and cueing them for this moment in the play. The director shook his head muttering something West couldn’t hear, and rehearsal continued smoothly.

After that incident on opening night, the play was canceled under controversy and paranoia. The Cobbler was on the loose in New York City, and some folks shared rumors that West was involved in the serial killings, people saying he was some psycho director from a cult coming to NYC to kill. Most people didn’t believe those lies, but superstition was superstition. West’s reputation was tarnished as he went from a Broadway director to an Off-Broadway stage manager… But at least he was still in theater, working his heart out!

These early morning rehearsals had been intense, but thankfully West was a morning person. Besides that one slip-up, he was fully awake, moving quickly behind stage, coordinating with lighting, set, props, and costumes, greeting everyone he saw with a smile and twinkle in his eyes. He moved with grace. Commanding yet always sweet, leading the crew yet still being part of the machine.

“Let’s keep it moving folks!”
“Keep it up Todd, excellent delivery so far on that last scene!”
“That was a hilarious ad-lib, they should really re-write that into the script.”
“Ruth, don’t forget the cue to move the back section of that set piece! … Yes, that one! Perfect.”

It was hard to juggle the role of a stage manager, but he had help. And as he exchanged conversation, a flash of green invisible to the average person’s eye was reaching behind him, pulling things in place. The tentacles of Hierophant Green, his beloved Stand, a helper who let him multitask to the max.

Around brunch time, they had time to take a break. While many of the crew went to grab a meal together at a diner next door, West told him he’d join them next time, and headed down the street. He still couldn’t get his mind off the past and needed to clear his head. He dodged cabs, smiled at cute dogs being walked, and tossed a couple of coins in the hat of a terrible guitarist busking on the side of the road.

“You’re doing amazing!” He said, and the man grinned back at him, continuing to play a bad rendition of Wonderwall. Even though the man on the curb had a lack of skill and other New Yorkers were annoyed by him, West saw that he was still brave enough to perform at all, and West admired that.

There was a bookstore nearby the theater that he’d been frequenting these past few weeks. It was calm, quaint, the perfect place to sit and read and forget about psycho killers in the streets of the Big Apple. He walked in and heard the bell chime. After a few moments perusing the bestsellers, West looked for the bookstore owner, someone he’d had a few polite conversations with before. With his signature smile, West waved and smiled at the bookseller at the front desk.

“Hello, my friend! It’s me again. How are you? I’m looking for a particular book… Something to relax the mind…”

---

He couldn't sleep.

In fact, if we were being more accurate, Kane hadn't obtained a good night of rest for nearly a week, barely able to squeeze out a few hours of rest before his mind would catch up with him, or rather, his heart. He lied on his messy and small apartment bed, staring vacantly up to the ceiling, as if God himself would inscribe a divine message for him to decipher. Of course, things weren't that simple.

He needed an answer, and fast.

With a begrudging grunt of effort, the young man hauled himself off, having to halfway wrestle the sheets from off of him. Still groggy and disoriented from his lack of rest, he bungled around for the lamp on his nightstand, nearly knocking it over in the process. Or, well...In truth, he did actually knock it down, as it careened towards the ground near his feet, threatening to shatter and give him more than a few nasty cuts. However, just before it made contact, a hand lunged forth, grasping it firmly as it placed it atop the stand once more, and opted to light it for the barely awake man as well. "Uh...Thanks?"

That thing again....

It had been a month at least (though probably longer; he wasn't exactly keeping good track of time as of late) since this entity became apart of his life, but he was still just as confused and baffled as to what it was from the start. He knew talking to it was a waste of time; it said nothing, and responded to...Well, not exactly nothing. At that exact thought, he casually had the scuba-like specter trail off into his cramped kitchen to find something for him to eat in the fridge. It didn't speak, but it listened to him on some subconscious level. Not only that, it had far stranger abilities than simply being some kind of creature permanently tethered to his person. Still, that wasn't important right now.

Now on his slightly staggering feet, Kane stumbled his way over to his desk, the laptop still burning brightly into the night. Either he hadn't been asleep for nearly as long as he'd hoped, or he'd finally managed to sleep...Through an entire day, that is. Neither prospect really pleased him, but at the very least he was thankful for the extended leave he'd gotten from work for the time being. It gave him a chance to at least try and collect himself, which also included some personal inquiries of his. That much was clear from what the monitor displayed; an article about the infamous Prowler's latest victim, one Megan Baker, aged 19. As like all the other cases, they were grossly in-depth into the incident (at least, as far as they could with even the police's flagging evidence), and despite claiming their hatred and disgust at the killer, it wasn't too far below the surface that one could tell they were eating it up, if only because these awful acts raked in viewers.

Kane pressed down on the power button. This was the last thing he needed to see right now, and besides, it was information that proved extremely pointless. No, he already knew where his current shot was...His workplace had its perks when it came to looking into these sorts of incidents, as it turned out. He already had done the preparations for his scheme, though what stopped him now was crippling fear. He was about to break the law, and if he got caught, who knows what might happen to him? He'd certainly lose his job if it came down to that, and much worse could happen as well. Hell, he could just get shot on sight as an invader, and that'd bring an awfully quick end to his story here. Overall, the only thing he could rely on was...

"Jesus!"

Kane nearly jumped out of his skin as the apparition-esque humanoid peeked around the corner, a greasy pizza box in hand. Leftovers from yesterday...Or maybe a bit later. Hard to say for certain. Regardless, once he'd caught his breath again, he merely motioned for it to pass the cardboard housing his hasty meal, to which it obliged. And so, rather unceremoniously, the young man sat on his bed, chowing down on a few chilled slices of meat lover's pizza. He probably would've heated it up under normal circumstances, but he already realized he'd wasted too much time when he saw it was well into midnight. This was his best chance...As doubtful as it sounded in his head.

Finishing what was left of the Italian cuisine, he had his personal ghost chuck it into his trash, though the force with which it did so made him startle yet again. This thing was strong, stronger than he probably understood himself. Granted, the tense musculature of its arms and legs hinted towards it. Shaking it off, he got prepared, opening his closet. He put on mostly black; if he was going to sneak into somewhere, he sure as hell wasn't going to be wearing a bright white coat. Beyond that, he took his bag. Normally stuffed with nutrient bars to carry him through a day, it instead held a different payload tonight. It had all his essentials, of course; the keys to his apartment and car, his phone and wallet, and....

He opened the bag, pulling out a silvery pin that he quickly clipped on. It was rather innocuous, with little styling apart of it beyond the emblazoned 'M'. To others, it meant nothing. To him...It was a promise. He had to see this through. Swallowing the fear churning in his gut, he rifled through the rest of the items to ensure his supply. Yup, there they were; a bandana and heavy-lensed goggles. Not perfect, but it was less conspicuous than buying a hockey mask or something. With these, once he was inside, he could cover up most of his identity. And, while gloves should be obvious to someone in his line of work to avoid any fingerprints, he had a trick up his sleeve for that...

With a resigned sigh, he looked towards the entity once more, which stared at him blankly and expressionlessly. To be honest, it sorta gave him the creeps. Still, if there was any chance of Kane figuring out this mystery, it would be with it. Making his steps to the exit of his apartment and out to the big wide world of New York City, he spoke to the figure once more. "We've got a highly secure Forensics building to break into. Let's go....Diver Down."

@scrawls

Lorenzo Cifaretto

The bookstore owner was dealing with a rather annoying kid. Answering the boy as best he could, he was trying to have a hard time trying to remember what happened nine years ago. “Well, all I remember of your mother is that she was looking around the occult section of the store when she was here. She bought a book about tarot cards and astrology.” The owner looked quite annoyed by the punkish kid questioning him.

Lorenzo meanwhile kept asking questions to the bookstore owner, wanting to find out why his mother was here before her death. Conversing with the bookstore owner he found very little information on his mother’s murder. “Why was she looking for books on the occult? Was she acting specious?” The rather tall teenager was towering over the stout owner. A fact that made the owner start sweating a little.

“No, she wasn’t acting strange or anything. All she asked me was where the occult sections were. Although I did notice someone following your mother in the store, and walked followed your mother when she left the store.”

This caught Lorenzo’s attention which made him lean forward on the counter. “What did this guy look like? What were they wearing?” All of his questions were answered by the owner shaking his head.

“I don’t remember kid, All I remember of this person was them wearing a pin with an arrow through a mask. It looked quite strange, they must’ve been a part of some weird group or something.”

Lorenzo thought for a moment about what the symbol could mean. “What did this pin look like?” The owner then doodled what the pin looked like on a piece of paper, before handing it to Lorenzo. “Thanks, where’s your section for occult books?” He asked as the owner pointed to the corner of the store. Lorenzo walked away leaving the owner and West alone.

“Just so ya know this ain’t a library, this is a bookstore. Ya gotta buy something.” The owner yelled out while shaking his head.

The owner took a deep breath before facing West. “Eh, I could be better, been questioned by the cops and wannabe P.I.’s.” The man pointed towards Lorenzo with his head. ‘The self-help books are over by the new age section. Just be careful of the loonies.” He pointed towards the corner of the room where Lorenzo was.

Lorenzo meanwhile ignored the owner and was looking through some books of anything including that particular mask and arrow design.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@j8cob

There were many officers, civilians, and off-duty police officers in the station. Most of them were conducting their business, or being processed for committing a crime. Most of them not noticing Alison infiltrating the station. Inside the cold morgue, the two officers preparing the autopsy were talking about the baseball game last night. “A shame the Yankees lost by ten points.” One of the forensics guys said while walking over toward the slab.

“Yeah it does, but I got a good feeling they're gonna win the world series this year.” The other forensic officer spoke joining the first one at the slab.

“Poor girl, what kinda fucked up person would do this to a person?” The first forensic officer sounded quite saddened by having to work on another Cobbler victim. The second forensic officer nodded in agreement.

“I don’t know, but the sooner we caught this fucker the better. Let me grab the tape recorder.” The second officer walked over to the table near the door, before walking back to the slab. “Today’s date is April tenth twenty twenty-three. The time is five twenty in the evening.” The second officer started the process of the autopsy.

“The victim looks to be eighteen years old, African American with hazel eyes and dark hair.” The second officer was jotting down everything the first officer said. The first officer noted that half of the victim’s body seemed to be cut in a curve but the wound was not made by any sharp objects. The woman’s feet were removed as well, although the fact she was missing half her body seemed to be the cause of death.

“Looks like the time of death was three days before being found by law enforcement.” The first office jotted down what the second just said in a frantic scribble.

Just then a tall Asian man came into the room. “Hello, how are you doing with the autopsy? What did you find?” The man’s voice was very deep and looked to be in his early forties. Wearing a black turtleneck with matching black slacks, and brown leather shoes.

“Well detective, the killer somehow disabled the victim’s movement before killing her. The cause of death seemed to be massive blood loss. The killer must’ve removed her feet before dealing the final blow.” The first officer watched as the Asian man walked over to the tiny tv, which was sitting on a table in the corner of the room.

Placing his hand on the tv set, and breathing deeply. Alison could see long purple veins coming out of his hands towards the tv. The television turns on and flashes images of people talking to make up a sentence. To the other officers, it just looked like the Asian man was flipping through channels very quickly. Alison and the others could hear the words “Help….Me….Alleyway….Bar…clay….Street….Milk….Cheese…Cream…S….T…A…N…D.” And then the tv shut off with the Asian man turned towards the others.

“Did they find the body in Barclay Street near West Street?” Both men nodded to which the Asian man looked to be in deep thought. He could tell just from looking at the body he was dealing with a stand user, something that worried him greatly.

The large man looked over towards the victim and then the forensic officer. “Barclay, that is where the body was found right? And milk, cheese, and crame I wonder what that means.” He rubbed his chin inquisitively. His train of thought was interrupted when he noticed something being knocked onto the ground. At first, he thought it was just the air, but the room was almost airtight so such a harsh gust of wind would be practically impossible.

“Is something wrong Jotaro?” The first officer spoke up looking where the detective was staring at.

“No, it must be my imagination. You can continue with the autopsy.” Jotaro now turned towards the two other officers. But while the autopsy was going on, he would periodically look over his shoulder.

It was mid-evening when she had finally left her domicile, as Kasumi navigated the controlled chaos of New York's bus network. She took her time, pacing herself, not making any indication of her nerves, as she disembarked on the last stop in her mapped bus chain and set off down the sidewalk. The hustle and bustle of rush hour thrummed around her, as she slipped through the crowds of mostly home-goers with practiced ease. She was merely another face in the crowd, hands in her pockets and long coat tugged tight against her frame against the northern evening temperature drop.

The police station was not more than a block from her position now, and her unhurried pace and far from direct route had combined to leave the hour hanging heavy over the 5 o' clock mark in the afternoon. The colors of the sky were starting to shift away from blue, and Kasumi knew nightfall would be swifter to come than many might expect, the looming forest of skyscrapers darkening the streets sooner than later with every degree of elevation the sun relinquished.

Which suited her just fine.

She mentally ear-marked the direction of the police station, as she entered a relatively nearby alley that was nonetheless out of sight of the precinct.

Spectral, golden fingers crept from her skin to touch the alley wall, as she leaned back against it casually, hands in her pockets. On que, her muddled awareness of the life the constantly swarmed and clustered around her sharpened, as the alley was inspected by a far more focused gaze. Glancing both ways and consulting the negative reading upon her senses again (save for several miniscule signatures that could only belong to rodents or insects), Kasumi smiled slightly, satisfied at the lack of witnesses.

A moment later, the alley was empty, as a small hole in the pavement quickly sealed up, writhing plants slowing and fusing, before morphing back into cold, hard stone.

---

Hands splayed out before her, encased in gold, Kasumi strode forward steadily without a moment's pause, soil, stone and brickwork parting around her with every step. Golden light rippled from her body into her surroundings, which obediently shuddered and writhed, assuming forms far more pleasant to an environmentalist's eye, growing in shapes according to Kasumi's designs. Sturdy and thick reddish-hued hickory wood formed a massive tunnel, large enough to walk through without ducking. The smell of sap intensified every moment, as Kasumi crafted a titan of a tree, fit to rival the greatest in the world, from the inside out... horizontally. A sturdy structure not dissimilar to a well-supported mineshaft, there was no real concern of a collapse unless some truly egregious force happened to impact from above, and even then, as a creation of her life-force, there was a high chance that force would be nullified entirely anyway.

The plan was simple. Rather than entering the station where just any shmuck could see her, she would create an infiltration and exfiltration route in one simultaneous fell swoop. The life energy she was imbuing into this area should be plenty sufficient to hold until she was ready to leave, and then she could revert all of it, totally erasing any sign of how she'd gotten in... assuming she was noticed entering at all.

Every couple steps, she counted off another meter in her head, subtracting from the distance she would need to walk to reach her destination until she was relatively certain she should be standing right underneath an area just outside the building. Briefly halting, the golden humanoid figure she had long-since come to appreciate -even in spite of the trouble it seemed to draw to her- phased from Kasumi's back and ghosted into the "ceiling" of her tunnel, cautiously poking a finger up above ground.

Pinching her brows, Kasumi focused on the double vision that always resulted from doing this, as she reached for her Stand's senses, holding steady, until a light breeze and grass tickled across its fingertips. Nodding, she had the being slowly, carefully feel around. A pulse of focused life sensing confirmed there were no humanoid life signatures close enough to likely see the Stand's fingers, but it always paid to be doubly sure. Anyone could be a Stand User, after all. Just using herself as an example, she'd never know it if she walked past herself on the road. Recklessly showing off her ability would just get her noticed by people she'd not noticed in return.

As such, it was only after long, painstaking deliberation that she retracted her Stand's fingers and "hefted" its face up, poking an insectoid eye above the surface, flickering its sight around in a search that thankfully proved ultimately fruitless. Kasumi felt a small note of tension ease from her shoulders as her Stand's vision caught sight of the side of a building she'd already burned into her memory, currently looming overhead and casting shadows from the waning height of the sun.

Yatta, I've made it.

Step one was complete.

Now began the more delicate part.

She extended her tunnel just that little bit more, just far enough to let her Stand reach the building with its optimal operation range of 2 meters. Laying its hand on the wall, Kasumi's lips pursed tightly at the more focused bloom of bustling life within the building, masses of human-sized life forms churning to and fro. As expected. The forensic police station was bustling at this time of day.

She had good reason to believe that it would make little difference when she decided to infiltrate. The police weren't like some regular business institution; they worked around the clock on multiple shifts to uphold law and order. If anything, given the infamy of the Cobbler at large, the police would only be getting even more active at night, not less, as they went on the hunt for the perpetrator of such gruesome murders. Therefore, for Kasumi, the only good time to infiltrate would be during the overall shift change from day to night. And while she unfortunately didn't have details on that, she could make a... relatively educated guess. It probably would have been better to target the night-to-day shift, as there would be that extra combination of demoralization that the Cobbler hadn't been caught for another night and relief that the Cobbler's hunting hours were over. But Kasumi had accidentally slept in, and admittedly, she was feeling… impatient to get this done. For her particular plan, time was likely very much of the essence.

All that's to say, of course, that the building was "lively".

She would have to play this carefully.

---

She narrowed the focus of her life sensing until it encompassed only about a single hallway and waited until the number of life forms within dropped to two to risk sticking her Stand's face through. More specifically, as she had done with the earth before, a single eye. Her Stand peered through the wall and scanned both ways, eying the retreating backs of a pair of officers. Though she couldn't see her target from this position, her Stand did not risk extending further, as she again repeated a mantra she'd come to hold close to her heart: Anyone could be a Stand user, and any belief to the contrary is arrogance. It's not paranoia if you're a living example.

The last thing she needed was to be caught out by a random civilian... much less a police officer with an actual chance of holding her accountable if it came down to it.

Putting thought to action, she carefully maintained that still position, providing minimal line of sight, until opportunity struck: a lone officer with several binders tucked under one arm, talking on a cell phone with the other. Distracted and alone. Perfect.

Another glance both ways to confirm a lack of witnesses, and she acted. Her Stand flashed out, faster than the human eye could see, scraping the edge of her range, as its hands dove across the officer's person intangibly. Two quick pulses of life energy, and the spectral manifestation of will retreated with its prizes, the officer walking away apparently none the wiser. The hallway was empty of crowds now, if only for a moment.

Now or never.

Within her Stand's hands wriggled two grubs, which she carefully positioned out of sight of the camera watching this hall. The footage should be too poor to see any fine details, certainly not something as small as a distant insect, as security footage tended to be mediocre quality at best by convenient necessity. Storing high quality footage would use up way more space than reasonable.

Quickly sliding the two grubs across the hall, Kasumi's Stand returned to expanding her tunnel. She took a moment to morph open and then close a small hole, so the two grubs could be funneled down into her hands and then reverted them into the officer's badge and wallet, neither of which she touched with anything but her Stand's hands, as she affixed the badge to the left side of her coat over her heart and slipped the wallet into one back pocket of her jeans, a place she never stuck her hands which should be free of any risk of leaving DNA evidence.

Sending her Stand back up, she peered into the room beyond the wall of the hallway and found herself in what appeared to be a bathroom. A quick check for a lack of men's urinals (and occupants), and she was making a hole to hoist herself out of, using her Stand as footholds and taking care not to touch anything with her hands. Ah, speaking of. She reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a pair of form-fitting gloves she'd prepared exactly for this purpose, slipping them on and resting secure in the fact that she would no longer be leaving fingerprints if it came down to it.

Now then...

She quickly walked a circle around the bathroom's premises, phasing her Stand's vision through the walls until she finally found it.

The elevator.

Smiling victoriously, Kasumi double-checked that her entrance into the bathroom was sealed up properly and then sent her Stand at the room's ceiling. One quick but firm tap and injection of energy, and a new -if smaller- crawl tunnel of tree wood was opening above her. Grunting lightly, Kasumi hefted herself up, accepting her Stand's clasped hands as a boost, pulling herself into the smaller space. Her Stand pulled up behind her once she was fully inside, and the exit reverted to lifeless inertness behind her. She shook off the brief, irrational feeling of claustrophobia, reminding herself that she was in complete control here, as she began to shimmy forward on elbows and knees.

Contrary to what movies might portray, the sort of tunnels one might see in a spy movie infiltration didn't really exist, not anymore anyway. After all, as the movies showed, they'd be massive security risks if they did. Actual ventilation and air conditioning systems were, by contrast, far more compact and less habitable to human life or -indeed- exploration at all. However, that hardly mattered for someone like Kasumi, who could freely morph and fuse her surroundings as she pleased as long as they were sufficiently conjoined. Since her ability to change inanimate objects into living beings basically gave conservation of mass the middle finger, it was trivial for her to simply... "compact" inanimate mass into the form of much smaller plants, thereby creating more space to move. The only thing she had to be careful to do was avoid making her tunnel large enough that it would be exposed to the floors above and below her.

Thus, her infiltration continued apace, creeping quietly through her self-made tunnel and reforming the building behind her. She occasionally was forced to detour around things that looked like they might screw with the building's electricity, loathe to cause a situation worthy of alarm, but otherwise, her progress was steady, punctuated by occasional peeks down through the ceiling with her Stand's vision to ensure she was on the right track.

And before she knew it...

A rumbling vibration was passing what felt like right in front of her face. And as the final barrier peeled away into a mass of wood, she grinned.

The elevator shaft.

I've made it.

Not getting complacent, she sent another pulse of life energy down the tunnel, inspecting the reading, as the elevator below came to a stop. Two life signs- No, zero. She could hear the sounds of the elevator opening and feel the passengers disembark, as they disappeared from her focused senses. So, a trip had just concluded? She waited patiently for the life signals to be replaced with new passengers, but as the seconds stretched on, the only thing she felt instead was the rumble of the elevator doors closing again, the lift going silent in wait.

Not wasting a second, Kasumi enveloped her body in her Stand and propelled herself from her hiding place, hands encased in spectral gold clasping hold of the thick cords that suspended the elevator. She began to slide down towards the lift at a pace that would have given her truly legendary "rope" burn if her hands hadn't currently been protected by a being that was completely immune to mundane damage. With a short, solid thump, she landed atop the elevator, knees bending to bleed a little of her momentum. The impact probably wouldn't have broken her legs even if they hadn't also been reinforced supernaturally against such a mundane nuisance as "fall damage", but the precaution didn't hurt to take. It wasn't that long a fall. After all, even with a basement level, the police station wasn't all that tall a building.

Somewhere above, Kasumi heard a clanking rumble, as the elevator suddenly shuddered to life and began to rapidly ascend. Someone has clearly called for it, and she had no interest in being crushed... or going that direction in particular.

Flowing into a crouch, Kasumi wasted no time pulsing life energy into the escape hatch of the lift, rendering it into a mass of vines, which she brushed aside and slipped through, landing inside the elevator, as her entrance sealed up behind her again. Another stomp of a foot encased in gold, and energy rippled into the floor, which peeled away into bark, sending Kasumi into a short plummet. She briefly caught herself on the new hole, dangling above the rest of the shaft, before swinging herself to the side to catch hold of the thick chords trailing down from the bottom of the lift and closing the hole behind her, zipping down at a bit of a more moderate pace, as her Stand-encased hands exerted a bit of a tighter grip.

Gradually sliding down until she reached the lowest level, she finally hopped off and trotted over to the closed doorway, sending her Stand up to send a new pulse of sensory energy through the portal. As expected for this floor, however, the returns she received were few and generally far between.

The rumble of the elevator now descending from above at a worrying pace shook her from her inspection, as she began creating a new tree tunnel underneath the ground of the bottom floor, quickly slipping inside, as the elevator rumbled down into the space she had just vacated.

Huffing and shaking her head in irritation at being rushed in such a manner, Kasumi took a few moments to expand her tunnel again. On the bottom floor of the building this time with nothing below her to be concerned about, she no longer quite had to worry about how large it was and could make something sizable enough to comfortably walk inside. She proceeded to do so without hesitation. It could only make both her search and exfiltration faster in the long run.

---

@Eviledd1984@j8cob
A pulse of life scanning rippled into the hallway above, as the retreating elevator again provided backdrop with the rumbles of its passage. Nodding when she received no returns of note, Kasumi maneuvered herself underground into a position to extend her Stand's face into the area above, glancing about to be met with cold, clinical halls. An acrid, medicinal scent assaulted its senses, accompanied by an unpleasant lingering tang of death.

Yeah, I'm in the right place.

The Pathology wing of the Forensic Investigation building yawned above her, as Kasumi settled in for a search, moving as quickly as she dared. She navigated the floor, until she finally located the morgue proper. A scan for life energy, and she could see that three residents currently lingered within the room beyond. Without poking her Stand out to get a visual, she could only guess what was going on, but it looked like she'd be settling in for a stakeout. In the meantime, she'd acquire a better position.

Tunneling underneath and around, Kasumi began forming up a mostly featureless tube of wood that she navigated by using her Stand for footholds, clambering quietly up until she was above the morgue room. She pulsed her life sense again; three returns still. Only now that she had a position humans were infamously inclined not to look at -that is, a higher one, she risked peeking her Stand's eye out from the upper corner of the room located where the door would swing open, partially obstructed behind a security camera it could easily slip behind if any looked that way.

Inside, two forensic officers moved around a slab, where a gruesome sight lay. They were actually about to start an autopsy on the latest victim! What luck! Speaking of which... Kasumi listened with half an ear, as the officers began. Now that she had seen one of the victims with her own eyes, she knew which of the internet's rumors were the ones she should be paying attention to. It was clear now why every victim that was released from police custody so far had been given a closed-casket funeral. This was just... messy.

The corpse looked to have had a chunk taken out of it. Not like it was carved, ripped or even ground away, but like part of the body had just ceased to exist, an impression that wasn't hurt by the fact that this was all they had actually managed to retrieve of the corpse. It was like one, giant conjoined wound, slightly curved, enough so that it took out roughly half the woman's head, torso and left leg without actually severing either the head at the neck or leg. The remaining flesh seemed sufficient to barely hold on, despite the irregular wound. There was basically no blood, which wasn't surprising. Given they had only found her after an approximated three days, with that sort of monstrous wound, she'd have long since bled out and the blood dried up. The officers noted that the wound didn't appear to be the result of a bladed weapon, but for something this clean... What else could it be but something insanely sharp?

Kasumi's brows furrowed, as the door to the morgue opened, retracting her Stand's sight, mulling over what she'd learned. This was obviously a Stand User. There was essentially no question at this point. Such an irregular wound, nothing else could be responsible... The officer claimed the wound wasn't made by a sharp object, so... could that be true? And if so, what the hell sort of power could cause this?!

Shaking her head, Kasumi pulsed her life sense again. Four readings, as-

-usual...?

Hold on.

She pulsed her sense again. No, that wasn't her imagination. Hadn't she detected three returns before the third officer entered the room? But the only ones she'd seen before that had been the pair of forensic specialists... and the corpse. A chill crawled up her spine, as Kasumi chanced another flicker of a glance into the room. Three officers -one significantly more... "built" than the other two- filtered into her gaze. The new officer -identified by his comrades as "Jotaro"- was doing something with a small television, and Kasumi stiffened at the machine suddenly going wild, purple tendrils creeping from Jotaro's hand.

Stand User... No, two.

There's someone else hiding in this room.

She restrained a swallow at the words that trickled messily from the television, a stream of mostly nonsense that sounded like a grocery list. Only... "help me" and... Stand? The words were spoken from... the woman's perspective somehow... maybe? Was this officer's Stand ability one that let him look into the past? Was his ability actually narrating things the woman had said and/or just using others as a scrying medium? And assuming the former... had this woman been another Stand User? For her to have known that term, that seemed the most likely. Had she been another independent investigator of this case that had met her end in the chase? And what the hell were the rest of those words supposed to mean?!

A new sort of cold chill crept down Kasumi's spine. It was tempered by the fury she nursed even now, but she couldn't help it. This investigation was looking even more dangerous by the moment. With that wound on the corpse and how conjoined it was, Kasumi unfortunately had to posit that -discounting the act that severed her feet, the woman had died in a single blow of monstrous power. Kasumi knew her Stand, put up against another, was hardly very resilient. If that kind of attack was aimed her way, unless she could dodge or be certain her reflection ability would work on it, she'd face the same fate.

But conflicts with the monster behind the murders could wait for later. For now, her immediate issue was being able to find them at all, and to do that, she'd need to overcome this trial first. Before anything else, she needed to obtain that corpse for herself!

However...

Her Stand's eye snapped to the sight of an object clattering to the floor. Jotaro too appeared startled, glancing over his shoulder in brief alarm, before momentarily settling down and reassuring his fellow officers that nothing was wrong. Naturally, this was a blatant lie. Given what she knew, Kasumi was certain that, for a brief moment at least, that had been where the other intruder was hiding. She couldn't be certain they hadn't moved, but Jotaro hadn't seen fit to step over there to feel around... So, they might have just frozen in place and avoided making further disturbances… Or they could be relocating unseen at this very moment.

Kasumi swallowed again with nerves, doing her best to steel herself and not act irrationally. Two Stand Users... this was far from ideal but not yet a wholesale deal-breaker for her plan. With Jotaro's hackles clearly raised, he was unlikely to leave until the autopsy was entirely finished, not with the risk that an unknown Stand User -assuming he reached the same conclusion as her- was loitering around to potentially steal the evidence away or otherwise meddle with it. There was no telling how far that Stand User's concealment ability went, what areas it covered. Clearly sight was obscured, but they could still cause physical disturbances. They could also be detected by her life sensing. Beyond that, however? A concerning mystery. More concerning still was their unknowable motives. They could be anyone, chasing any goal. It could be as benign as another independent investigator... or as malevolent as a collaborator of the killer... even the killer themselves in the worst case.

Shaking her head lightly, Kasumi calmed herself. She wasn't looking for a fight. In the most ideal circumstance, the autopsy concludes without further incident. The officers leave. Jotaro leaves. The other infiltrator leaves. And then Kasumi could swiftly slip in to snag her prize and exfiltrate. There was no need to act yet, no need to even try to expose the other infiltrator and set them against the Stand User officer as a diversion. All she had to do was exercise patience and hope for the best. She despised relying on good fortune over a rationally stacked deck, but that seemed to be the way the cookie was going to crumble today.

Unwilling to be the first to rock the boat... just yet anyway, Kasumi settled back in preparation for what could very well be a lengthy stakeout. And all the while, she mulled over her options, preparing for the unfortunate potentiality of this devolving into something markedly less civilized.

The two nerds performing the autopsy were none the wiser of the invisible woman standing mere feet from them, watching over their shoulder to observe the ongoing dissection. She didn't need their commentary on the most obvious damage on the body though. Round, consistent shape. A circular, or perhaps spherical, blow. The parts of the body hit weren't recovered, completely severed. An attack like that could've removed any evidence of the crime entirely, she was surmising, an invisible hand brought to her invisible chin. Perhaps he ha- Her train of thought was interrupted as the door to the room swung open and a new man entered. He was quite large and imposing, as well he didn't look like any cop or doctor she had seen so far. Immediately her sixth sense was tingling. She could already feel it in her bones: this man was a Stand user.

She instinctively took a few steps back from the body as the supposed "detective" briefly conversed with the doctors. It appeared that his allegiance was with the law and he was accessing this morgue lawfully, based on this exchange, but Alison couldn't rule out the possibility that this Jotaro was an enemy. She was already thinking that this killer had an accomplice, possibly multiple, and this could extend to having accomplices in law enforcement. But their conversation added further enlightenment to the situation at hand. If the feet were removed while she was alive and only then was she killed then its likely this Stand isn't ranged. Possibly slow moving, close-range type. While she continued processing the information her way the detective moved over to a nearby monitor and summoned his Stand. Alison wasn't sure if he fully called his Stand or just used one of its abilities but the vines summoned from his arm wrapped around the TV and began to power it. She hadn't seen an ability exactly like this but as the TV played its message she began to work a theory of his power too. An information gathering ability. Some kind of psychic visions, or perhaps communicating with the dead...

The TV's cryptic message was confirmed to not be total nonsense when the lead doctor admitted the body was found at the location the TV played. But if this detective was with the police he'd already have seen a report where they found the body, right? Was he confirming that a report was accurate? Was he concerned that there would be errors on the report? Was he concerned that there were lies on the report? The doctors paid no mind to the strange message, or at least kept it to themselves, but it seemed that Jotaro was at work attempting to decipher his own Stand. Now was an opportune moment to do a few things. First and foremost, just in case this man was still an enemy even after this show of innocence, Alison needed a weapon. None of the men in the room were paying attention to the tray of used utensils, making it an easy swipe to pilfer a scalpel and hide it. Now it was time to-

Just as Alison turned to face Jotaro again she first saw it in the corner of her eye, forcing her attention upwards to the corner of the room. By pure chance from the angle she was standing in the room she could see a golden glimmer upon the ceiling, a purple eye that could belong to nothing other than a Stand peering through the tile. In her surprise she turned reflexively and took a step back, her already outstretched hand bumping the used utensil tray and sending a precariously perched pair of scissors clattering to the floor. The room wasn't exactly quiet, as the two doctors were continuing their autopsy and talking the whole time, but it still drew everyone's attention. Rookie move, Alison, she thought to herself as she took a few more steps back, silently. As Jotaro's eyes looked exactly at her she couldn't help but wonder for a moment if he could see her, even though she knew he couldn't, and gripped the scalpel in her hand tighter. He was now on guard and was no longer vulnerable to being bugged. In her left hand was a small, wireless device (invisible, as should be expected by now) that she intended to plant on him. But there was no way she could get away with it now, or at the very least the risk of exposure was too high to be worth attempting. It's fine, she assured herself as she stowed the device away in her bra, I have plenty of time...

But there was another big issue spying from the ceiling. Another Stand user, this one almost surely unaffiliated with the law. While Jotaro didn't press the disturbance Alison created further that didn't mean that this other Stand user would be so passive. And they, too, were now aware of Alison's presence. Three Stand users in one place can't be good. And I have no clue what this one can do. They already have an edge over me. I can't preemptively strike, and I can't explore for the user without alerting them that I had left the room... I'm trapped. She gripped the scalpel tighter as she moved her free hand towards the back of her waistband. Well, not completely trapped. They already know I was here but may not know if I still am. If their goal was to trap me, specifically, then something would be happening by now. They, too, are observing to see what happens. To feel me out. There's no need to use this yet... Her hand drifted back to her side now as she returned her attention back to Jotaro, who kept glancing in her direction to periodically check. He certainly was acting like he didn't see her. But... he also was acting like he hadn't seen that other Stand either. This third, unidentified Stand user was in the most advantageous position but it was Alison who could change the balance of power between the three.

I've gotten about as much as I can on the killer's Stand from this autopsy, unless there are any hidden gems. I think all three of us have a vested interest in this autopsy concluding or else someone would've made a move. However... Alison flipped the scalpel in her hand, expertly catching it by its blade without a scratch and then pulling her arm back. Let's let fate decide. What will happen first? If the door opens I'll get the hell out of here, but if that Stand in the ceiling makes any funny moves... She adjusted the scalpel slightly. Then I'll force the detective to notice it and pit them against each other. A younger, more callous and bloodthirsty Alison may have smirked and found the notion of this subterfuge to be fun, but this Alison knew she was in a bad spot and this plan was out of desperation rather than being something she had thought of in advance. Calling attention to the other Stand was a big risk and may still fail if Jotaro didn't have the reflexes to turn around faster than the third Stand user could recall their Stand, or even just pull it back further into the ceiling to hide. Surprise was the only advantage Alison ever held and she wasn't so willing to blow it just for a chance at a quick way out. If she threw the scalpel and Jotaro didn't detect the other Stand then he would no longer be second guessing himself about Alison, and likewise the other Stand user would take measures of their own to either find Alison or to preserve themselves. I'd feel a hell of a lot better about this if I just knew where that Stand's user was... she lamented. That's such a good spot to spy from. I'd do the same if I had a different Stand... the user could be anywhere. In the ceiling, in the hall, under the floor, three stories up the building... Well, I've had some decent luck so far. Let's see if I've got some more...

---

---

West didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but as he walked over to greet the bookstore owner, he did hear traces of the young man’s conversation with him. The bookstore owner was facing a tall young man with a large, athletic build in a leather jacket. Y’know, despite the kid’s imposing nature, West did see that he had a sense of style to him, somewhat punk, somewhat 50’s retro, like a greaser. But what had they been talking about? A mother, someone gone now. A… murder? Something… suspicious, a man… something occult? Hmmm, strange stuff. Maybe West had just misheard, or maybe he was being paranoid because the Cobbler murders were still fresh on his mind.

Trying not to draw attention to the fact he was standing there eavesdropping, he simply smiled and chatted with the owner. After the owner told West where the self-help books were, West gave him a half-bow of his head in respect.

“Thanks a bunch sir!” West said, then cheerily walked away from the bookstore owner. Moving deeper into the store, he couldn’t help but glance over at the guy in the leather jacket. The kid seemed stern, somewhat upset. West had meant to walk into this store to find help for himself, but maybe he could turn the tables and help someone else.

“Hey excuse me, sir. I wanted to say, I really dig your style!” While some people would be nervous about approaching a complete stranger—especially one as tough-looking as this guy—West reveled in meeting new people, and quickly began to blabber on before the man could even respond.

“You’ve got quite a retro vibe, very suave I must say. Hey, ever seen the musical Grease? They’ve got outfits just like that, honestly, could see you being a perfect extra—no, a lead! A lead for Grease, you’ve definitely got the build and aesthetic for playing a greaser. Ever thought about acting? Oh, but I guess Grease is kinda out of fashion these days, a bit problematic and all. Not to say that you’re problematic! Haha, but you’ve got slick vibes kid, fit for the stage for sure. Hah, just messing with you…” After this torrent of chitchat, West let out a quick laugh, then cleared his throat, getting bit more serious.

“Well, excuse my rambling, but I came over here because I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the bookstore owner, and just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss… Grief… well, it’s tough. I’ve been grieving a couple of friends who were gone too soon and sometimes life is…

As West thought about the murders, he trailed off for a second, staring back toward the store's front window, a look of sorrow and even perhaps the smallest sense of rage came upon his face. Behind a bookshelf by the front of the store, he saw his ghostly assistant—Hierophant Green—flickered to life for a moment as his fingers tightened into a fist. Then, he released it, and the Stand disappeared.

"Life is hard to keep living when those people disappear and it feels like your fault. And it's hard to go on without asking a lot of questions about what you could’ve done to change things. But what matters is that we keep carrying on y’know?”

West let out a sigh, then gave the stranger a look of earnest respect, and finally shut up for a second, giving the other person a chance to speak.

@scrawls

Lorenzo Cifaretto

Lorenzo was busy looking through some occult books, not noticing a woman who was also looking in the occult aisle. He was immersed in trying to find the origin of a mask or an arrow. He was having a hard time finding what he was looking for. His concentration was broken when a voice spoke to him. Turning his attention towards a man speaking to him. Lorenzo was not sure why a pretty boy was talking to him. He just assumed the guy was trying to make small talk with him.

“Eh, thanks man. I was going for a more Marlon Brando from The Wild One's vibe.” He was not sure if this guy was trying to hit on him on not. But he didn’t want to be an asshole and act rude toward the guy. “Nah I never thought about acting. I don’t think I’d be very good at it. I mostly just play in a band.” Lorenzo was really not sure what this guy’s deal was, but he kept smiling and nodding his head.

“Thanks. Your right we just gotta stay strong and soldier on.” He said as the strange woman put a book away before leaving the store. Lorenzo touched the same book and opened it trying to continue his search, but he was met but a black figure on a motorcycle suddenly appearing out of a book. Hitting Lorenzo in the chin and knocking him on the back. A strong gust of wind filled the store, freezing most of the books in the aisle.

“Fuck, it’s an [ENEMY STAND].“ He thought before quickly getting back up onto his feet. Wiping some blood running down his nose. He was now in fight or flight mode, he stuffed a couple of books into his backpack starting to walk backwards. Lorenzo’s suspicion turned towards the pretty boy that had spoken to him. But he thought quickly and tried to escape. Summoning his stand and making a zipper on the bookshelf behind him.

“STICKY FINGER.” He opened the zipper and jumped through, zipping it behind him. The motorcycle stand revving up its engine before going through the front window.

“Ey, what the fuck is going on over there?” The store owner ran over carrying a baseball bat to where the two men were. Not noticing the stand and only seeing the other male standing in the mess.

Lorenzo meanwhile was in the alleyway and was starting to run out and down the street. Noticing the motorcycle stand starting to come after him. “Shit, the stand user must be around here.” He thought now frantically searching for the enemy.

—--------------------------------------------------------

@Lewascan2 @j8cob

Jotaro watched as the autopsy continued, making note of any injuries that were found on the body. The two forensic officers noted more injured that had occurred before the victim was killed. Jotaro made some mental notes of these injuries before speaking. “This type of injury here could only be done if the killer was above the victim on a high degree angle.” He pointed toward a wound on the right side of the victim with a pencil. This particular injury only made it clear the culprit was a stand user. “The killer could not have disabled the movement of the victim unless they had some sort of bladed weapon on them. But from such an angle that kind of throw would be quite impossible.” Jotaro placed the pencil on the table beside the slab. Infusing a little bit of his Hamon into it.

“Indeed, the killer would have had to be above the victim. Probably standing on one of the fire exits when he somehow disabled the victim. And also if the killer was a pro baseball player or someone with a good throwing arm.” The forensic officer suggested a possible method of attack from the killer.

“It still does not explain how half of her body is missing. Unless the killer had a real working lightsaber. The wounds look cauterized as the injuries were being made. The only possibility I could think would make such a wound would be a superheated blade, but the blade would cool quite easily outside.” Jotaro’s train of thought was interrupted by the sense there were more people in the room.

The large man stopped for a moment before looking around the room for any sign of an intruder. Jotaro didn’t want the enemy to know he knew they were in the room. So while the autopsy was going on, Jotaro would walk around the room speaking to the forensic officers while touching various objects. If one of the intruders touched the objects, then they would be hit with a powerful amount of Hamon. Doing so in a casual manner, making it look like he was supposed to be touching such objects.

“Perhaps the killer had brought tools with him while murdering the victim, A blowtorch could be possible.” Jotaro suggest to which one of the officers nodded.

“Maybe, but that still doesn’t account for how the killer disabled the victim's movement. Again unless the killer had an ultra-heated blade. The killer must’ve been playing with the victim before killing them.” The second officer spoke up before looking over at the first. “Hi, where did my scalpel go?” The first officer struggled but Jotaro looked quite alert.

He didn’t want to scare the officers, nor wanting to let the killer’s accomplices leave the room. And having the other officers hurt was something he didn’t want. “Perhaps you had left it in the supply office? Or it is underneath one of these machines?”

The second officer nodded now looking around the room for the scalpel, “I might have dropped it on the floor somewhere.” The short man was now looking around the machines surrounding the room. The first officer continued the autopsy.

---

---

West nodded as the kid replied with a resilient answer. Stay strong and soldier on. It was a solid mantra, and from the determination in his eye when he had said it, West could tell the kid had been through a lot but had chosen to keep moving forward. But before West could ask anything else, a man on a motorcycle seemed to appear out of nowhere, attacking the kid with a massive punch to the face. There was a whirl of wind that launched books into the air and sent West stumbling a few steps back.

“What the—?!” West yelped, then immediately turned to see the kid bleeding. “Oh my, are you alright? Where did that guy—”

Before his very eyes, he saw the kid in the leather jacket suddenly summon a strange figure of blue and silver. A ghost? An alien? It was… no, it was a Stand, and West instantly realized that the kid had a strange, spiritual helper just like he did. The kid seemingly created a zipper out of thin air, unzipped it, then hopped through, disappearing. Meanwhile, the man on the motorcycle moved through the front window out of the store, seemingly out to get the kid.

West stared agape at the scene but felt his spine tingle. Behind him, Hierophant Green appeared, its tendrils beginning to uncurl, ready for action. It seemed there were others like him in this city, tied to these unseen helpers, these Stands… Fascinating!

The bookstore owner hobbled over with a baseball bat, confused and angry. West gave him a concerned look, seeing that the store was now a mess. The man didn’t seem to have a Stand, as he made no reaction to Hierophant Green right behind him.

“Some dude just tried to rob you! He ran out, I’ll go after him for ya!” West quickly ran to the store door, chasing after the motorcycle. “I’ll be back sir!” he yelled on the way out.

West began to run after the motorcycle, yelling at it. “Hey! You made a mess in there buster!” The motorcycle rider turned into an alley beside the store, and he saw the kid from early back there, emerging from a zipper portal. The motorcycle rider seemed to be continuing his hateful attacks. West needed to help.

“Watch out kid!”

West hadn’t really used his Stand for violence before, but he had used it in his jobs to move heavy items, manipulate controls, or wrap items. He knew he had to do something here. West reached out his right hand and commanded his ethereal assistant. “Stop him!” Hierophant Green flew in front of him in a blaze of green light and allowed its body to separate into a dozen fast-moving tendrils. The tendrils moved quickly down the alley, and all reached out forward to the motorcycle, trying to wrap and constrict the rider, perhaps even pull him off his vehicle.

As the autopsy progressed, Kasumi found her brows furrowing in growing frustration. Admittedly, she hadn't expected this whole affair to be quite so... lengthy. Then again, she'd never attended an autopsy before, and in hindsight, it was pretty obvious it was never going to be a quick or casual thing by any means. Although... she found herself getting annoyed.

Half the things Jotaro was saying must have been nonsense. The injury could have only come from above? How in the fuck could he tell that? A ridiculous assertion, given the variety of angles an attack could be directed from, combined with the victim's positioning being unknown as of the time they received the wound. Something as simple as an overhead swing with a melee weapon could explain it, never mind whether the victim had been standing or not. The idea that the killer had attacked from a fire escape or the like was pure speculation. Sure, she didn't want to recklessly dismiss the possibility out of hand, but the surety they spoke with in regard to it was strange.

Similarly, the conclusions regarding the largest wound were ridiculous. Honestly, sure, most of these officers didn't have much to go on as those presumably unaware of Stand Users, but a blowtorch? Really? There was no way it would have been able to cauterize the wound fast enough to stop the victim's innards from spilling everywhere. The fact that this wasn't messier was a miracle. No, cauterization via blowtorch would have been very little like this. The lightsaber suggestion, by comparison, was somehow more reasonable. And yet, that had the issue of, well...

There were no actual burns.

The wounds may have appeared cauterized in a sense, perhaps, but the flesh wasn't cooked. Even without getting closer, Kasumi could say that for sure. There was no blackening, no heat-scarring, no old smell of cooked meat. This wasn't the damage of a flame or heat-based attack. Never mind considering why the hell there was no sign of the rest of the remains. That wasn't something that happened just because something "cut good". So any serious suggestions about a "superheated blade" or "blowtorch" were patently ridiculous in her mind. Sure, she was certain Jotaro was trying to not give up the Stand game to his fellow officers, but she couldn't believe they were seriously considering buying the speculations he was throwing out. What the hell was this? Some FBI crime show? At least try to produce excuses that make sense!

Jotaro was loitering around the room, seemingly with no particular purpose, and Kasumi's brows furrowed in growing frustration. Honestly, was he even supposed to be here? Hadn't the autopsy already started before he arrived? Had he just invited himself in and the other officers just shrugged their shoulders? What exactly was he supposed to be offering to this autopsy investigation that a pair of trained coroners wouldn't? If anything, he was actively sabotaging it. Honestly, what was the poi-

One of the officers found a scalpel missing.

Oh, now this is getting interesting.

It must have happened when the utensil tray was knocked over, Kasumi figured, scouring the room for a sign of the missing tools. Unfortunately, it seemed her Stand's aerial position wasn't going to reveal anything, especially if it had actually slid underneath something like Officer Jotaro had suggested. The other intruder might even have taken it, and judging by the way there wasn't a random knife floating through the air right now, that would mean they could potentially actively absorb new targets into their stealth ability.

Kasumi's lips pursed in consideration. Should she capitalize on this in some manner? She'd long since learned that preparation time and an advantageous environment were precious things for her Stand, for most Stands really. If a fight became inevitable, perhaps it was better to at least have taken some precautions...

But why overplay her hand? Given Jotaro's fairly subtle attempt to get the other officers to vacate the premises, she quite imagined she shared with him the less than enthused thought of having anyone witness a potential clash. There were things she wanted to do, but she couldn't risk doing them until she was sure there would be no unintended collateral... assuming she wanted to let her impatience get the better of her to begin with.

She started considering her own position, which, she thought, was fairly secure, but she could think of a couple ways the potential foes in the room might compromise it, even with her tube of living wood to act as a reflector for attacks if they somehow sussed out her position. It made her gut curdle in frustration to not be the one taking the initiative when she was clearly in the most advantageous position of those present, but there was no way she could act first without making herself out to be the bad guy here! She had to wait for the preexisting tension to boil over before she took her shot. Otherwise, she'd be the instigator in the court of Stand User etiquette, which -in her experience- tended to be a rather poor position to have.

But if she didn't do anything, this stalemate might persist in perpetuity. The longer this standoff went on, the greater the odds she would lose her chance, that some mishap would deprive her of the opportunity to attain the corpse. Jotaro might never relinquish his guard, or worse, might have some method of guarding the corpse even if not present. And worse still, his Stand clearly had dangerous information-gathering potential. The longer she stayed like this, the more likely he might chance upon the right line of thinking and find a way to reveal her position. And on top of that, there was the wild card of the hidden Stand User and their unknown intentions, an unknown factor and all the more dangerous for it. The more she thought about it, the more Kasumi began to believe that this state of affairs persisting favored her overall endgame the least.

Unless...

Retracting her Stand, she had it begin moving through the overhead area within the ceiling of the autopsy room, spreading its golden life force as it went. Slowly and methodically, she began to create an interconnected hollow of hardwood flora, carefully avoiding anything that looked involved in the electrical system. Her Stand helped her scoot over until she was crouching low atop what would be the edge of the top of one side of the room if the room were a box. Gaping tunnels surrounded her, providing her a network of mobility in her excavated hiding place.

Her brows pinched, hesitating, before she exhaled slowly and committed to her gamble with confidence. Shuffling over to the ideal position, she closed her eyes and shifted her mindset to one she'd not used in a while, shaking cobwebs off those annoying necessities to getting and maintaining working relationship with peers, bosses and customers.

Time to change the game.

Her Stand passed down into the hallway, making a brief misleading detour, before shamelessly phasing through the wall beside the autopsy room's door, straight into what she was sure would be in plain sight of both the visible and hidden Stand Users. Throwing on a shit-eating grin, the golden Stand seemingly took its sweet time observing the room's contents, before leaning back against the wall with one shoulder in a casual manner, arms crossed. It spoke, confident in the fact that only those that mattered would hear it.

"Well now, little Western standoff we got here."

With a glint in its purple, insectoid eyes, its right elbow lightly bumped the door, a small ripple of gold flickering in and fading out seemingly without effect, as it imbued the door with a delayed transformation. Instead, Kasumi played off the act with her Stand tilting its head in faux confusion, clearly eyeing each of the police officers in turn as if counting off in its head, before adding:

"All three of us."

The autopsy continued on fairly normally and the Stand in the ceiling didn't make any moves. At least for a while. When Jotaro began pacing around the room while chatting with the doctors it forced Alison to move as well. Her footsteps were perfectly silent from all the years of practice but she didn't need to move far to avoid being bumped into. She took a few steps towards the door, letting Jotaro pass by her with barely a foot of distance between them. Her confidence that he wouldn't make any immediate wild moves as he passed paid off. Perhaps he didn't think she would let him get close so didn't bother trying anything like that, especially since it would make him look strange to the others in the room. Once Jotaro had passed she returned her attention to the ceiling, confirming the Stand was still there. But, as if nothing could ever go right in this room, one of the scientists noticed the used scalpel was missing from the used utensil tray and grew wary.

Shit! Why would he even be paying attention to stuff like that? Alison thought, tightening her grip on the scalpel. While Jotaro began to ease the doctor of his concern, likely because he wanted to avoid a confrontation with Alison if he could, Alison saw the Stand in the ceiling suddenly retreat. Shit, there went my other chance! Options were tighter now as the other Stand user could be doing anything. They could be leaving, repositioning, preparing their attack, or even actively attacking at this very moment and Alison just couldn't tell yet. She looked towards the door and contemplated her chances at slipping out without encountering the Stand in the hall. If Jotaro was on the other side of the room she could escape and he'd never be able to catch up to her and make the distance back in a sprint, or at least she assumed based on his build, but the other user could already be waiting in ambush. Instinctively she stepped away from the door, making several paces before the golden Stand reappeared. This time it phased through the wall right next to the door, throwing out all stealth and subtlety and directly exposing itself to Alison and Jotaro.

"All three of us."

Yeah, of course they knew Alison was here. It was a big mistake to make in front of people who would naturally be suspicious of strange phenomena. Well, cat's out of the bag. Suppose I should say hello. She flipped the scalpel in her hand around again, once again catching it by its blade and pulling her arm back. The Stand was leaning against the wall, which may indicate that it was tangible at the moment, but Alison already knew its user was smart and wouldn't have the Stand be so vulnerable right off the bat. This was a move of confidence afforded only by having a plan. She knew this scalpel wasn't going to harm the Stand, or its user, but she wanted to get a message through. With a mighty throw she launched the blade, spinning through the air before slamming into the wall next to Gold Experience's head with a resounding thud. The blade, despite being so small, embedded so deep into the wall that if the scalpel were to be visible it would only have half the handle sticking out. Alison knew that she had a supernaturally strong body, a strange and unique gift that her old boss once referred to as a "rarity", and that this display would serve as a meaningful way to mislead the other two Stand users as to her own Stand's capability.

Surely they wouldn't expect a user, a normal human being, to be able to throw something so hard. But with that "greeting" given it had also surely gotten the attention of the two doctors. While Jotaro and the other Stand user might correctly surmise that the sudden impact and hole in the wall was the result of the missing scalpel turned invisible, the two doctors, normal people without even a hint of Stand powers, would surely be confused as to what just caused the wall to do that. It was likely Jotaro would be forced to wrangle them in some way, while the other Stand user might have to reconcile the danger they might actually be in. But if they were confident enough in the first place to pull this stunt then they likely would rationalize their own safety anyways. Regardless, Alison didn't plan on getting any closer to Jotaro or Gold Experience. The two were unlikely to fight, and similarly unlikely to team up to find Alison, but by staking a claim that she wasn't to be dismissed as a mere coward in hiding they might be a bit more willing to dialogue when her jig would inevitably be up.

If the two doctors could leave the room, or otherwise be unable to hear what she had to say, Alison figured that diplomacy would become her best option. This Jotaro guy may be with the law but it appeared that he understood the need to keep people who don't need to be in the world of Stands out of the world of Stands. There was a decent chance he wouldn't try to arrest her or otherwise assail her for breaking in, if that was all he suspected her of doing. Perhaps this encounter can work to my favor, Alison suddenly realized, her eyes widening (if they could be seen) as it occurred to her. Perhaps we all have the same goal and I can use these people to find the Cobbler. If one or both were protecting him then we'd already be fighting. Surely they must be thinking that if I was working with the killer then I'd have ambushed one of them by now and dispatched of them. Once they suss each other out and these doctors go away then I can try to get a bug on them. Buuuut... She reached back behind her waistband, removing the object she had stowed there and brandishing it in her left hand. There's always a chance I'm wrong...

@scrawls

Lorenzo Cifaretto

Lorenzo ran down the street trying to escape from the motorcycle stand. Pushing passed any passerby, getting him a lot of insults thrown his way. “Sorry.” He said while shoulder shoving through the crowd. Hiding behind a store trying to catch his breath,Lorenzo thought of his options and what he could do. His thought process was the stand user had to be a good distance from him, or at the very least close enough to control the stand to chase after him.

Looking around the corner of the street he was on, he didn’t see the stand yet but he felt paranoid that it could be closing in on his position. When he figured the coast was clear he slowly walked out onto the street. Making his way down the street looking around the bookstore, trying to find the stand user.

Meanwhile, the motorcycle stand’s wheel was stuck because of West’s stand. It revved its engine as the back wheel spun furiously, blowing a strong cold wind towards West and Hierophant Green. It looked like the stand was trying somehow to escape so it could continue its pursuit. Escaping by speeding through the tendrils wrapped around the motorcycle. Speeding off towards Lorenzo’s location.

Lorenzo meanwhile was close to West and the enemy stand, noticing the stand starting to come towards him. “Motherfucker.” Cursing under his breath and using his stand to run over towards the stand. Trying to punch the motorcycle stand, but his punches didn’t seem to do much damage. The punk rocker looking quite pissed off decides to use his zippers to try and disable it.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@Lewascan2 @j8cob

Jotaro watched as the autopsy was finishing up, knowing that the others in the room would have to wait along with him. Taking in all the information that was found by the forensic officers. He was thinking this stand must have attacked the victim and somehow cartelized the wound. It looked like to him the killer was enjoying the chase of going after the victim. Perhaps the user’s stand had the ability of pyrokinesis, applying this to a blade and being able to easily cut someone. Although he didn’t think that would explain the distance of the attack.

“No, this stand must have taken parts of the body. As if cutting the body but taking parts that were cut into another place.” He thought touching his chin. “Disregard that thought, there would be no time for the killer to cauterize the wound with a blowtorch or heated blade.” He raised a brow thinking of how to explain the wounds to the non stand users.

“Perhaps the killer attacked the victim with a blade of some kind, and collected the organs carrying it with them. Or perhaps disposing of it somewhere close.” The first officer suggested a possibility.

“Again the killer would not have not time to cauterize the wound in time after collecting the organs. And besides they would have been seen carrying a bag of organs. Although they could have displaced the organs somewhere else.” The second officer responded after getting up from the floor.

“I’m gonna go to the supply room to get another scalpel.” The second officer said walking out of the room. The first officer walked off saying that he needed to fetch some medical supplies for further investigation.

Jotaro was now alone in the room, the tall man standing over the slab of the dead girl. He took off his hat, and wiped it on his sweater. “Yare yare daze.” Jotaro took a deep breath before putting his hat back onto his head. Noticing something moving through the wall of the autopsy room, his eyes darted from the wall toward and then around the room. This made the man become more alert. The purple vines started to appear along his arm and hand, taking a few deep breaths.

He thought now looking around the room. He noticed a sound like a human throwing something as hard as they could. Jotaro then turned toward the person that had thrown the scalpel, using his hamon to throw some hardened formaldehyde toward them. Turning around to use his hamon to throw a hamon infused pencil at the golden stand. "Stop right there." He yelled out.

@Eviledd1984@j8cob

Jotaro seemingly did not care to humor her banter. While her Stand's expression remained unchanged, Kasumi found the tense smile on her own face slipping a bit, as the officer Stand user seemingly completely ignored her opening conversation starters, while the other two mundane officers became frustrated with their lacking tools. She couldn't help but scoff internally at the fact that there weren't spare prepared in the same room. Her smile transitioned into a frown, as the officers began to head for the door.

There was no way he didn't see her, right? What the hell? She was using her Stand to talk. Why wasn't he doing the same? Her brows furrowed, before realization dawned. Jotaro's Stand was those vines, wasn't it? Was it physically unable to talk? Well, that was rather embarrassing, but she could be patient. Now, she understood why Jotaro was waiting for the officers to leave.

Fine, if it took relinquishing a bit of unsaid leverage, she'd do it... but not without taking a little more.

As the two coroners passed right by it, Gold Experience casually side-stepped into their space, letting its selective tangibility do the work of passing its ghostly body through them both while body blocking the doorway from allowing a potential third unseen individual from slipping out with them. She still didn't know the third Stand user's intentions, but she intended to find out by hook or crook... preferably level-headed conversation. Meanwhile, as the door closed behind the Stand-


Her thoughts were interrupted by a whistling noise in the air, followed by something imbedding in the wall next to her Stand's head. Throwing its senses into overdrive, her Stand's head snapped to the wall and then back in a flicker and then back again. For a moment, Kasumi could only stare at the hole in the wall in bewilderment, before her Stand reached out to feel what must have been the still invisible scalpel solidly buried there.

If the Stand could sweat, it would have. It wasn't all that durable, and that sort of attack would have been... bad if it had been a Stand-based damage effect, especially given she hadn't been able to see it coming. Honestly, Kasumi couldn't even be sure the attack had missed on purpose! Terrible precision combined with inhuman strength wasn't an uncommon thing after all. More than that, this absolute buffoon was super lucky! If they had attacked while she had active transformed life forms at her back (as she had considered leading with), that attack would have just been reflected back with a brutal and automatic lack of hesitance. Still... this could work in her favor.


"Okay, rude. Honestly, you don't understand the bullet you just-" Gold Experience's mildly tense joviality was interrupted yet again by Jotaro's impassivity suddenly being clearly wiped from the map by that invisible little shit's impulsivity.

The officer hurled a pencil, sparking yellow, at the golden Stand, and the friendly expression disappeared from its face entirely. Not wanting to gamble on this projectile also being safe to touch, Kasumi refused to underestimate the innocuous nature of the attack. Gold Experience casually side-stepped it, its vastly inhuman speed far outstripping any chance of the human-thrown pencil making contact with it, and just to be safe, it twisted so it could pay attention to where the pencil's flight ended up in the corner of its insectoid vision, just in case it had any more annoying surprises to offer.

Now standing a bit closer to the autopsy table, Gold Experience's tone was flat, as it addressed Jotaro, paying his words to "halt" or whatever about as much respect as he had clearly shown Kasumi's. "Are you about finished... with this." It gestured vaguely in a rather derogatory manner, annoyance oozing from its aura. It's pupilless purple eyes made the fact that it was thoughtfully eyeing a nearby lab coat on a wall rack impossible to discern. "Muda muda... That was so pointless, so useless. I despise putting up with useless things. Are we really doing this right now?" Sure, she was aware the average Stand user was rather trigger happy, but after she'd clearly come in peace, this was a bit much, right? Nonetheless, Gold Experience subtly ensured the repositioning from its side step left itself so that what was behind it from Jotaro's direction was the door to the room.

The two doctors leaving the room was a pleasant surprise, but it was soon followed by an unpleasant surprise. Jotaro, surprisingly quickly, located her approximate position and splashed an acid at her. An untrained person may not have had the reflexes to dodge in time but Alison was no untrained person. She contorted her body underneath the liquid, dancing out of its path with adept swiftness and gaining more distance from Jotaro in the same motion. She didn't immediately recognize that he had done something to the acid until it crashed into the floor as if it were a solid, landing with a thump and holding shape. So his Stand power is more than just spirit vision, she surmised, taking a few more quiet steps in a curve as Jotaro attacked the golden Stand. It, too, was able to dodge his attack. But this time Alison was able to pay more attention to the thrown attack, noticing some sparking on the pencil he threw. Perhaps he can harden or toughen things for combat...

While the golden Stand approached the table, Alison continued silently walking around the Stand until she was behind it. The distance between the two was short, not even two meters, but she was confident that if it tried to punch or kick her she would be able to dodge or counter. It could be faster than its shown but it would have to turn before it could strike, and it couldn't even strike accurately at that. Despite that possibility she remained in a good position to flee, being the closest to the door and both her potential opponents being in front of her. She stood up to full height, dramatically placing her free hand over the lower half of her face and striking a pose. Unfortunately, however, she remained invisible and her stylish pose would remain unseen. "You both only continue to breathe by the fortune of my indifference," Alison finally spoke, revealing her approximate position again. "That is my proof of my intentions here, but if I were to be forced to protect myself then you two would stand no chance against me." The bravado, combined with her earlier display, would serve as a sufficient temporary bluff. She relaxed out of her pose and brought both of her hands together to hold the mysterious object.

"You two can refer to me as Alison. Are we all here looking for something?"

---

---

Hierophant Green’s tentacles stretched and contorted around the motorcycle, feeling the abrasive material of the tires spin against West’s puppet. West held on, trying to focus every fiber of his being into controlling Hierophant Green. But as the mystical vehicle began to rev, a gust of freezing cold wind violently blew back at Hierophant Green and West.

West yelled in complete shock, being knocked over. He tumbled and scrambled to the side of the alley behind a dumpster, trying to avoid the direct harm of this extreme temperature as this sudden blizzard-like breeze began to gnaw at his skin. The feeling was not something he was expecting, it felt like winter had come to NYC too early!

What in the world? This thing can create winter storms out of no where? I’ve never seen anything like it. Are these ghostly beings capable of channeling the elements of nature themselves?

He commanded Hierophant Green to stay strong, but it began to lose its grip on the violent vehicle, several of the tentacles pulling away as the winds pushed the being back toward the entrance of the alley. The motorcycle was straining against his pull, trying to run over the kid. However, a couple of West's tentacles still clamped on. He attempted to have them divide into smaller strands that all began to string around the motorcycle and tried clog up its wheels. Perhaps he could get wedge the tendrils between the vehicle and the rider, to pry him off his seat?! Some of his tentacles reached to try this tactic.

Or if I just work these tentacles and mess up the machinery, I can slow it down and hold it still for good? West grunted as he strained to control Hierophant Green with precision and power… It was getting difficult, especially with the intense winds. He needed to work with that kid. That kid seemed to have control of a zipper-themed ghost assistant!

He peeked past the dumpster and saw the kid trying to punch at the motorcycle. Maybe they could work in tandem, the kid punching the rider, and West trying to pull the vehicle down and in the opposite direction.

“Hey kid! I don’t know what the heck is going on, but maybe get him off his seat! I’ll drag his motorcycle down and you zipper him up and off it!” West screamed over the roaring winds.

Then, he used all his strength to have Hierophant Green try to stretch more tentacles, interweave them into the machinery, and pull the motorcycle down towards the ground to try to slam or topple it.

@scrawls

Lorenzo Cifaretto

Lorenzo ran back towards the bookstore. Noticing the motorcycle stand escaping from some green tendrils. His punches didn’t seem to be doing damage against the enemy stand. “I sure hope I can get this dude off their cycle.” He thoughts to himself feeling the stress building up. Summoning his stand getting into a battle stance.

The tendrils once again wrapped around the wheel of the motorcycle, the stand using its freezing wind against Hierophant Green to try and escape. Lorenzo meanwhile rushed over towards the enemy stand, using his zippers to try and unzip the motorcycle. There was a lot of snow and freezing wind coming towards Hierophant Green and West. Sticky Finger’s attacks making zippers all over the motorcycle. The zippers quickly opened up disconnecting the stand from the motorcycle.

“Fuckin eh, good job buddy.” Lorenzo said pumping his large arm. However his celebration was cut short by the stand standing up, and the motorcycle coming towards the stand. “Motherfucker, i think we have to find the stand user to beat this one. The user has to be somewhere around here.” Lorenzo backed up a little making enough room for him to run again.

“The user has to be somewhere around here. I’m gonna distract the stand, I want ya to go find and kick the shit out of the user.” Lorenzo then started running down the street, with the motorcycle stand chasing after him. The tall teenager headed down the street towards a small park nearby.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

@Lewascan2 @j8cob

Jotaro positioned himself so he could keep an eye on the two intruders. Making sure they would not leave the room, he would need to distract them long enough for the Hamon he put into the pencil to move towards the doorway. Of course, he didn’t know she came in peace, he just assumed she was looking for trouble trying to infiltrate a police station.

He turned towards the golden stand, staring intensely at it. “Why are you here? Are you here to destroy the evidence?” He pointed towards the dead woman on the slab in the middle of the room. He slowly moved towards the slab, positioning himself so he could protect the body. “You can leave now without any incident or you can stay and be sent to jail, your choice.” The large man‘s stand extended out a little bit from his arm. He was not going to let them get their hands on the body, even if it would cost him his life.

Jotaro really didn’t like the way the other person was speaking to them, it was quite ominous. It reminded him of someone he had met in nineteen eighty-eight. But Jotaro made sure to listen to where the voice was coming from. His back was up against the small cart of surgical items and fluids near the slab. The veins on his arm moved to grab a cola can that one of the other officers was drinking. His plan was if the voice was hostile then he would throw it, and hopefully soak them so it would be easier for him to see his target. “The real question is why are you two here?” He responded with his eyes staring at the two invaders.

---

---

The kid managed to disconnect the rider from the motorcycle using his mystical zippers, but the two weren’t separated for long. Hierophant Green heaved, but the rider and the vehicle quickly managed to get back together and start chasing after the kid once more.

West heard the kid yell at him to go after the user, whatever that meant… There was someone else hiding and controlling this motorcycle ghost it seemed?

“On it kid!” West yelled back at the kid running off.

West retracted Hierophant Green’s tentacles and dashed out of the alley looking around frantically, staring through windows and at passersby out on the street. Meanwhile, he sent Hierophant Green scrounging around corners and floating around the vicinity, also searching. Hierophant Green could peer through higher windows, and up on roofs. Surprisingly, this is something West would often do when he needed to find a missing cast or crew member back at the theater, looking with his own eyes, and switching back to Hierophant Green’s wider vision and reach.

He was a people person who worked with actors. He had a sense for people playing pretend, and began to scan his surroundings looking for anyone suspicious, or anyone trying to seem too unsuspicious. Whoever was controlling this motorcycle menace could be hiding in plain sight.

“Where are you hiding, buddy?” West whispered under his breath. This whole situation was so …strange? Fantastical? Bizarre? Yeah, that was the perfect word, bizarre. But it was also quite exhilarating. West felt like he was being a hero, something he’d rarely ever felt before.

@Eviledd1984@j8cob

"Tch," Golden Experience clicked its tongue in annoyance at the voice that range out behind it. "Don't be ridiculous. Those are my lines." With the transformation on the door prepared, this room was already one step short of a death-trap if things went sour, after all, not that she was going to boldly declare as much. Perhaps it was a preemptive assumption but... "I wasn't sure before, but I think I am now." Gold Experience grinned. The invisible Stand user might have had some inhuman strength, but the fact that they resorted to ranged attacks implied they were much less threatening than she'd first feared. Even if they had the element of surprise, their range was clearly short, and they could seemingly only attack with mundane projectiles, useless against a Stand. They would have to use that strength directly in melee, and unless they could ensure their first blow was a total KO, all they would do is reveal their truest position and open themselves up for her superior speed to retaliate. Even if she had to attack blindly, she was sure she could at least make sure the score was even. And only one of them could presumably heal from the results of such gambles.

"Even if you both allied against me, I doubt you'd prevail. That I even bothered to so much as show my Stand's face is proof enough of my own... preferably amiable intentions." Its expression turned fairly dry, as it repositioned to keep in sight both the area containing Jotaro and the place the invisible Stand user's voice had rung out from. "And that I'm the only one here that hasn't attacked first -or at all- for that matter." Because like hell she was going to let that go so quickly. The kind of shitshow they had almost devolved into because of this other woman's actions...

Subtly planting dormant life energy into the floor-tiles as it walked, Gold Experience backed up until it was lounging against the door again, crossing its arms and favoring Jotaro with a huff of amusement. "Destroy the evidence? Don't be absurd. If I wanted to obstruct the investigation, I wouldn't have revealed myself. I'm no fool." It tilted its head, favoring him with a condescending sneer. "What a useless threat. Jail me? In your dreams. No mundane containment can hold me, and unless you've got other Stand users in the force, you've got to sleep sometime..." Gold Experience chuckled. "This, of course, assuming you could even get my actual body in a cell to begin with, but I digress. I will get what I want today." That this would be so whether she had approval or not was left without saying.

Shaking its head, Gold Experience rapped its fingers on its elbows. "As for what I want? A lead on the serial killer, this 'Cobbler' or whatever moniker you prefer. My ability will allow me to create a fairly reliable one, and all I need..." It pointed a finger at the slab of a table. "Is that corpse to make it."