The Second Victim

[strangerpeople]

THE SECOND VICTIM

[It was getting unbearable. The illness, the stress, the threat of death, either by oneself or by another. The worry about finding a cure for a disease that, in this comparatively primitive world, might not even exist outside of the Depths.

However, on Friday morning - or what the Titled could at least conceive as Friday - all the Titled will wake up with the remnants of a very soothing sensation in their throats. Cool and at the same time almost burning, like someone had dropped liquid menthol down their throat while they were sleeping.

They will also find something else, especially if they had been infected: their perception of time is back to normal. Which means one of two things. One of the Titled actually managed to create the potion needed to cure the disease, or...the Titled might have an Inquisition looming on the horizon.

There is only one way to find out.



((OOC: Just a reminder that, due to the nature of the motive this week, there may be references to self-harm and suicide, along with other possible triggers, during this Inquisition, including during the Investigation, and that potentially triggering comments should (and comments by the mods will) be given a trigger heading on those comments.))]]

Comments

[poorlovefool]

[He looks a bit hesitant.]

Hey wait... Trying to make me hold the murder weapon is a bit...

[Well, at least fingerprinting hasn't been much of a thing in this place so far, so he figures it would be paranoid to really act like this kid's trying to frame him. Eric sighs resignedly and holds it.]

Okay, what do you want me to do with it? Should we go compare it to the victim's wounds?

[carries_war]

Hold onto it for now. I wanna make sure there's nothing else in here before we leave, and I can't slip through these pipes holding something that big.

[And off he goes to slip through these pipes! Continuing to look around the room, is there anything else off?]

[strangerpeople]

[There is something on one of the alcoves, in the corner.]

[carries_war]

[He'll head for that! Climbing up pipes if he has to. What is it?]

[strangerpeople]

[A handkerchief.

It's covered in soot, snot, and seems to also be wet in some places.]

[carries_war]

[...Well. He did say they might find something gross. He'll take that, trying to avoid the snotty bits, and take another look around. Anything else?]

[strangerpeople]

[Nothing else. You're clear!]

[carries_war]

[Okay, making his way back to the entrance, keeping the handkerchief out of sight.]

I found something smaller, if you wanna carry that instead of the warhammer.

[poorlovefool]

Eh, I'm already holding it, so it's not really a big deal anymore... why, what is it?

[carries_war]

[He holds up the snotty, sooty handkerchief, dangling it from the cleanest bit he can find.]

I don't want it.

[poorlovefool]

[Oh. That... sure is a snotty handkerchief. Well then. He just stares at that for a moment, to build up some sarcasm.]

Gosh, thanks... You think I want it?!

[This is why he still thinks all of you kids are little punks. :T]

[carries_war]

It's lighter than the warhammer! And someone's gotta carry it, it's evidence. I'll carry your bottle for you?

[poorlovefool]

Are you sure that's evidence... looks like something a snot-nosed brat would make to me.

[...Well, but if it's all the way in the boiler room. Ugh.]

Fine, fine. Here.

[He holds out the bottle for the trade.]

One thing. I don't care how much training you have, if you put that snot side down I'm kicking you across the room. Deal?

[carries_war]

Yeah, yeah.

[Here, he'll...drop it over the end of the hammer. Ew ew gross. Then he takes the bottle and looks out the door.]

Now we should go check out Harley's wounds.

[poorlovefool]

That works.

[He'll admittedly have to take it back off that end once they start doing the actual comparisons, but for now his hands can be free of grossness, which is good.]