[indent][right][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjcyLmY3ZDVhNS5TMmwwZEhsaGJpQkxaV3hzZVEuMA/fredericka-the-great.regular.webp[/img][/right][hr][right][sub][i][color=f7d5a5]Mentions:[/color] Everyone
[color=f7d5a5]Setting:[/color] 10:02 AM, Saniwa Family Estate[/i][/sub][/right][hr]
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[indent][indent]Kittyan crinkled his nose.

He took one last peer down the hallway as he stood outside the doorway through which the rest of his team currently gathered. In most circumstances, it was certainly unusual for Kittyan to be bringing up the rear - but he'd found that, more often than not, his efforts to pause and parse whatever it was that he was picking up with the ol' sniffer tended to come in handy in his new line of work. And this scene was certainly not an exception.

There were smells aplenty here. Any of them that had permeated the manor before this incident were almost entirely drowned out by the chaos that had ensued. The newest odors consisted of blood, sweat, rust, gunpowder, char smells- more blood. Being that they were around a good twelve hours old, most of them had begun to diffuse into one another, which made it a bit harder to decipher the scene through that sense alone. But it also made the sheer quantity of some of them more bearable.

Kittyan looked into the room where his comrades were observing the scene and discussing amongst themselves. He tiptoed over the human-shaped stain in the doorway as Marty began offering his ideas on what happened. Immediately, he began taking in the scents of this room as well, the older smells easily dissectible from those of his fellow detectives. He followed a few settled odors, his ears twitching every so often as he picked up key words in the nearby conversation. At the same time, he pieced together his own thoughts on the matter.

Supposedly thirty gangsters, eight identifiable corpses.. there were clearly signs of struggle, yet the only victims left "intact", if you could call it that, seemed to have taken more flighty responses to the slaughter than you'd suspect, given the evidence of a scuffle. Kittyan carefully stepped over a splotch of gore as he began inspecting the northernmost side of the room. Suddenly, he smelt a hint of something.. different.

He stepped forward slowly, sniffing out the source of the new scent as he approached an overturned table surrounded by random trash, beer bottles, and miscellaneous shit. He reached down with his left hand as he stooped down, hoisting the table up and letting it flip haphazardly away from him, causing a few glass bottles to clatter across the floor unceremoniously. It was underneath the table and accompanying curtain of random objects that he found a small, torn plastic bag. The scent that drifted from it was oddly.. sweet? And.. earthy- no, perhaps.. hell-y..? The smell was clearly sourced by a singular, half-crushed tablet left inside the bag.

Kittyan [i]tch[/i]'d at the Section 6 officer's distaste for Marty's colorful description of the scene. Typical, he thought, of a cyber-crime officer to be a bit on the prudish side. He fished around in his pocket as his eye scanned the immediate area around his discovery, ensuring he wouldn't miss any stray tablets that may have fallen from the bag - his ears still tuned into the conversation behind him. He produced a small baggie himself, and carefully began to scoop up the other bag into his own, sealing it safely.

He nodded as he began to stand up, evidence baggie in his clawed hand. With his sniffer having accomplished its duties, he wouldn't have to be so focused now, and could get back to annoying his fellow officers. He crinkled his nose again. [color=f7d5a5]"Could be."[/color] He said, his eye passing over the group. [color=f7d5a5]"With the smells bein' so muddled, and aged as they are, I can't quite tell whether our perp is human or not - but I do think this could [i]potentially[/i] be the work of an artifact."[/color] He continued, eye shifting to Desdemona. [color=f7d5a5]"There's some crazy ones out there, and they can be hard to regulate."[/color] He shrugged. [color=f7d5a5]"Could be somethin' else though."[/color]

He thought again for a moment, his eye shifting to the entrance of the room. [color=f7d5a5]"It could be a combination of things."[/color] He gestured towards the door with his right hand. [color=f7d5a5]"The stains're ones we could [i]assume[/i] fought back.. as thugs're often inclined to do. Maybe their form of death is caused by an artifact weapon of some sort.. and the bloomers, well.. maybe they're the result of an illegal contract, or a curse circumvented. Could be the inverse of that, too."[/color] He crinkled his nose, trying to breath a bit more shallowly now that he didn't [i]need[/i] to take in the aging smell of gore anymore.

He looked to the baggie in his hand before he raised it, holding it up to the light and examining it in front of the group for a moment before stepping towards the kneeling Armand. He produced the evidence baggie towards him, letting it sit on his black palm as he held his hand open. [color=f7d5a5]"Here ya go, Chief. Could be extraneous.. but I don't recall smelling anything like this on the street anywhere.."[/color] He said. [color=f7d5a5]"It's got a rather hellish aroma, though. Literally, I mean."[/color] He added, running his tongue over one of his sharp canines as he tried to itch the scent out of his system. [color=f7d5a5]"Maybe the boys in the lab'll get something from that.."[/color]

He'd always wanted to say that. "Boys in the lab." Honestly, he was a little surprised that it'd taken like six months for him to get the opportunity. But it was finally somethin' he couldn't identify through smell.
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