Yankee — Roleplayer Guild

There was a soft, steady thumping noise as the tip of one of the detectives' scaly tail rose and fell back onto the tatami mat. After the initial walk through, Barbatos was squat beside one of the flowering victims, his head tilted slightly in thought as he stared at their new petals. He was kind of getting a sense of deja vu, which was weird because he definitely had never seen this before. The dead people, yeah, that came with the job unfortunately, but the flowers were new. If anything it kind of made the horror show... slightly better? 

Barbatos stroked the sides of his chin with one hand, scratching the bristles on his face. You know, all thoughtful-like, like a real detective. He'd been with Section 7 for a few years now, so even without any training he had still managed to pick up a few things. Mostly from cop dramas since his coworkers were all very motley for detectives, but, still. 

He glanced around the room. The other corpses, the blood stains, the state of the room's destruction. Yet his attention kept sliding back to the flowering stiff in front of him. Weird. Was a hunch trying to form? Hm...

Feeling Marty's bulbous eyes on him, Barbatos blinked and looked up at the younger demon. What a nice guy, always making sure Barbatos' opinions were heard! Barbatos gave him a wide, easy smile. 

"About the fear killing minds thing?" See, he had been listening. "Nah, that's good. Good line too. Most of the other stuff you said was just, you know, facts and questions, but I'm picking up what you're putting down with the fear thing."

It definitely looked as Marty had put it anyway. He couldn't imagine that the budding and blooming happened beforehand, with the way everything else in the room was laid out. When Yam spoke up Barbatos pointed at her while keeping his gaze on Marty at first, as if to say to the Beelzebub spawn see, that's a theory. Then he dropped his hand and looked at her properly, nodding along. Yeah, that made sense. And if anyone would know about curses it was probably her.

"I wonder if the flowers mean anything," he said, unknowingly giving voice to one of the woman's own thoughts. "They're all the same kind."

It was also possible that the flower type was pure coincidence, and just a side effect of whatever did all this, not something the perpetrator specifically chose to do. Well, someone else would have to figure that out.

Barbatos stood up, pressing his hands against his back as he did. He dwarfed most of the other occupants of the room, but not all of them. The taller perspective didn't really help at all though. Carefully he shuffled backward, making sure he wasn't blocking the gazes of more seasoned detectives. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, so he didn't mind letting the clue gatherers... gather clues. 

Instead he just internalized what everyone was saying, making sure he'd be able to keep track of everything in his head. And, when the only non-Section 7 individual in the room spoke up and finally introduced herself, Barbatos gave the woman a welcoming smile. The situation was pretty grim and it seemed like maybe they were getting off on the wrong foot with her already, so he tried being friendly. It they were going to work together he'd rather everyone got along.

"Wish we all met under better circumstances Dezzie," he said, scooping one of her hands up in his own and giving it a hearty shake. "Barbatos. That's Marty, Yam, Kelly, Al, Lorelei, and the Chief."

He pointed them all out as he introduced them, if they were gonna be rude and not do it themselves. He released her afterward, putting his hands on his hips as he turned to, sort of, rejoin the discussion. He didn't have much to add except that really annoying sense of familiarity.

"I'm inclined to agree with Kelly, by the way. If a bunch of strange things happened, it's usually a bunch of other things that caused them. Probably more than one method, more than one person that did it, etcetera."

And the fact it was all the same plant, the same apparent circumstances that caused said plants, then it actually could be an artifact reacting in the same specific way: turn the fearful into flowers.

So what else was missing... 

Once again his gaze was drawn to one particular corpse. Then, his tail thumped heavily against the ground and he snapped his fingers.

"I remember now. I know this guy! Sort of. Pre-bouquet." He leaned over toward one of the victims, blinking down at their splintered face. There were barely any features left to see on the demon, but curled around one of the short horns was a gaudy gold bauble. Fragmented pieces of a neck tattoo could still be made out. Barbatos crossed his arms. "He was an asshole, y'know, the aggressive kind." He frowned at the recollection. "Always hassling the girls on the street."

Was that even important? Who could say. But at least he felt better now that the nagging feeling at his mind was sorted out.
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